Moonlight Masquerade (9 page)

Heather was so startled by his pleasant tone that she dropped her folders to the floor. Betsy choked on her coffee, and Alice's chin dropped by inches.

“Beautiful day, isn't it?” he said. When no one answered, he picked up the appointment book. When he saw that it was blank it took him a moment to remember that he'd been planning to spend the day in Richmond. He looked back at the staring women. “Sophie, my new assistant, is meeting me here at nine and we're going to go over her duties. I want to thank you ladies for making her welcome yesterday. In fact, after you say hello, why don't you take today off?”

They were staring at him so hard and in such deep silence that it was difficult for him to maintain his good humor. But then he remembered Sophie and smiled. She was the first person he'd ever told the whole story of him and Laura. He'd made jokes about the breakup to other people and he'd repeatedly
said he was over her, but last night he'd realized that he hadn't been. Over her personally, yes, but not over the pain of it all. He'd never fully understood why Laura had wanted a man who was so . . . well, less than Reede. His ego, his masculinity, his belief in himself, had been crushed.

But last night it was as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. As Sophie had so wisely pointed out, if he'd married Laura he'd now be trapped in Edilean forever.

“Sophie?” Betsy said at last.

Reede couldn't help himself as he frowned at her. “Yes, Sophie—” He couldn't remember her last name, if Kim had told him, that is.

“Did you like her?” Alice asked tentatively. None of them ever dared to ask Dr. Reede a personal question—at least not after the first time. Scalpels didn't cut as sharply as his replies.

“Yeah, I did,” he said, and again there was that smile. “She's interesting to talk to.”

“Talk to?” Betsy asked. “You met her? In person?”

Reede put the appointment book down on the counter and took a deep breath. What in the world was wrong with these women? “No, I haven't met her in person, but I had a lengthy talk with her on the phone. I would like to know what's going on with you three. Why are you looking at me as though I've met a ghost? Is Sophie not real? Did I make her up?”

The women looked from one to the other, then seemed to settle on Heather to tell him the truth.

But when Heather just stood there, Reede had to refrain from snapping at her, but then she was such a
timid person. His least little comment that could be construed as less than loving-and-caring and she lost it. But Reede's eyes bore down on the young woman with the intensity of a hawk's. It was the look he'd often used in the field to make people get off their behinds and
do
something.

“She threw beer on you,” Heather blurted, then fell into a chair, as though all the energy had left her.

Everything came to Reede at once. The pretty girl in the tavern, beer running down his face, Kim's friend showing up in Edilean at the same time. He'd not thought about it much, but he'd assumed the girl with the beer had been passing through on her way to somewhere else. The tavern was off the main highway; it led to places other than Edilean.

The women were looking at Reede with wide-open eyes, waiting to see what he was going to do. But he had no idea what to say. Without a word, he turned and went down the hall to his office.

Sophie would quit, was his first thought. She'd take one look at him, see who he was, and walk out. Yesterday Russell had called and explained what had happened on the highway.

“You nearly ran over her,” Russell said.

“I did no such thing.”

“Yes, you did,” Russ said. “You came around that long curve, the one five miles east of the tavern, and you were looking down at your papers. The poor girl had to dive into the scrub oaks to keep from being hit.”

“God!” Reede whispered.

“You have the right person,” Russell said. “He must have been looking after both of you.”

“The crunch under my tire . . . ?”

“Her phone. And she had something in an envelope too. You ran over it.”

“And all she did was dump beer over my head,” Reede said. “A shotgun would have been more appropriate. You don't have her name and address, do you? I'd like to send her my apologies—and a new phone.” That's when Russell said he had to go.

Reede sat down in the big leather chair and closed his eyes for a moment. When it came to women he didn't seem able to do anything right. He'd had two serious relationships since Laura, and they'd both—

He ran his hands over his face. This wasn't the time for more wallowing in self-pity. No wonder he felt better when he was swinging from a cable out of a helicopter. Angry oceans were easier to understand than women.

So what was he going to do now? The best thing, the most honorable action, would be to meet Sophie at the door and try to explain himself.

And just how would he do that? Play on her sympathy? Talk of his lack of sleep? Say that he's such a busy doctor that he has to read files while he's driving?

There was no way she'd forgive him—and she shouldn't. He didn't deserve it.

But then, what would be the result of his doing the right thing? At the end of today there'd be no delicious cooked food, the bills would still be waiting for him to pay, and worst of all, there'd be no one to talk to tonight.

Talk, he thought and sat up straighter in the chair. He could still
talk
to her. If she didn't see him, that is,
and if some blabbermouth in Edilean didn't run to tell Sophie who had nearly killed her.

He knew that if he spent another ten seconds thinking about this utterly ridiculous, absurd idea that he'd come to his senses. He'd back out. He'd do the heroic thing and wait for Sophie to show up and he'd take the consequences. He'd be a good employer and write her a severance check, and—Oh hell!

He practically ran to the front office. It was fifteen minutes to nine. “Don't tell her,” he said to the staring women. “And don't let anyone else in this town tell her. I need time to . . . to . . . ” He couldn't think what he was going to do. “Got it?”

They silently nodded in unison and Reede ran out the back door. He had to get his infamous car out of the parking lot before Sophie arrived. His first stop this morning would be Frazier Motors in Richmond to see if he could get a loaner for a while. The BMW would have too many bad memories for Sophie. As he drove he couldn't help but wish he'd listened to his sister when she'd told him about her roommates. Maybe she'd know of a way to appease Sophie.

But first he had to call his mother and get the gossip line started—or rather stopped. He called her by using the hands-free phone—no more looking down to punch in numbers while driving! “Mom?” he said when she answered.

“Well, well, if it isn't the Beer Boy of Edilean.”

Reede grimaced and wished he were back in Namibia, but he said nothing. It was better to let her get it out of her system.

“Kim said her friend Sophie wouldn't last long with
you,” Ellen Aldredge said. “Between your bad temper and your attempt at murdering the poor girl, Kim was more right than even she imagined. So what did Sophie say when she found out her employer was the hit-and-run driver?”

“Nothing,” Reede said. His mind was working hard as he tried to think of how he could get Sophie to forgive him.

“I don't blame her for not speaking to you,” Ellen said. “Did she throw things at you? I hope everything sharp was locked up. Roan stopped by and told me the details. He was absolutely delighted and he's going to go after her. He said he likes her spunk. Isn't that a lovely old-fashioned word? As for you, a pretty girl, unattached, was practically handed to you on a platter but you messed it up. Roan said—”

“Mother!” Reede said loudly. “Don't let her know it was me.”

“Sophie? Don't let pretty little Sophie know that it was you who nearly killed her, then drove off as though nothing had happened? You who—?”

“Yes, exactly. I'm going to try to make her forgive me.”

That news so startled his mother that for a moment she was silent—something that didn't happen often.

“If I introduce myself to Sophie now,” Reede said, “she'll run away screaming. But if I have some time maybe I can . . . ” He trailed off.

“Maybe you can what?” she asked.

“I don't know,” he said honestly. “I'm sure it's just a pipe dream, but Mom, I
liked
her. I told her about Laura.”

“You did what?”

“Last night I talked to her on the phone and I told her about Laura and me. Sophie said that if it had happened as I'd planned, that now I'd be living in Edilean forever and I'd never have been anywhere.”

“True,” Ellen said cautiously. “But then, if I remember correctly, several other people said that same thing to you.”

“Maybe they did, but last night I was full of Sophie's food, a bottle of wine, and . . . I don't know, maybe I've reached my limit of misery. If I'm to be here for another two and a half years maybe I should try to make the best of it. What do you think?”

“Yes,” Ellen said in a voice with a quiver in it.

“Mom? Are you crying?”

“Of course not!” she said quickly. “But I do admire your spirit. I'll talk to those silly women in your office and do whatever I can to keep Sophie from finding out the truth for as long as I can.”

“This weekend. If you can give me these three days I'd appreciate it.”

“Don't forget the big party tomorrow night. Everyone we know will be there. I ordered your costume months ago, and Sara's almost finished with it.”

“How about if I wear a stethoscope and ask everyone to remove their clothes for an exam?”

His mother didn't laugh and Reede started to say he had to go, but he stopped. “Why are the women silly?”

“Because they prefer Tristan over
my
son.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Grinning, he clicked off the phone. But the next minute his mind was full of asking himself what he could do in just three days.

Reede was standing
in the big office at Frazier Motors, waiting for a salesman. His hands were in his pockets and he was staring out the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. Below him was the huge showroom full of sparkling cars, salesmen hovering about, ready to destroy any speck of dust that dared touch one of the vehicles.

Behind him the door opened, but he didn't turn around.

“What is that saying about ‘Physician, heal thyself'?”

Reede turned to see his cousin, Colin Frazier, in the doorway, blocking the light with his big body. He'd recently married and his wife was going to have a baby. “How's Gemma?” Reede asked. She was going to an OB/GYN in Williamsburg.

“Great. Healthy,” Colin said. “She outeats my little brother. Is that normal?” Colin's youngest brother was a
very
large young man.

“Perfectly,” Reede said. “Why are you here?” Colin was the sheriff of Edilean. There'd been some shock in his family and even in the town when Colin decided that he didn't want to go into the family business of wheels. Anything that had wheels on it and the Fraziers were involved.

“Front end alignment on my truck,” Colin said. “The guys told me you looked bad, so they sent me up here to hold your hand.” He motioned for Reede to take a seat on the chair along the far side. Colin sat down on the couch, and his big body nearly filled it. Leaning forward, he stared at his cousin. They'd grown
up together and knew each other well. “Is your gloomy face because of the girl you nearly ran over?”

Reede nodded.

“And I take it you've found out that she's your employee.”

Reede nodded again.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“So far, I've turned tail and run away. Mom's bawled me out. Kim has left me three voice mails and those women who work for me—” Reede threw up his hands in exasperation.

“You should fire them,” Colin said. “They belong to Tris. They used to give Gemma a hard time when she went in there.”

A bit of light came into Reede's eyes. Colin had been very jealous when the woman he loved was friends with Dr. Tris.

“The best thing for you to do,” Colin said, “is to come clean to the girl and tell her the truth. Grovel. Apologize. And get her another car.”

“You're right,” Reede said as he stood up and looked out through the glass. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets. “What happened to her car? She didn't have a wreck, did she?”

“Naw. It just died of old age and neglect. I don't think the oil had been changed in years. Dad sent a rental over to her last night.”

“Sure,” Reede said without much interest. “Send me the bill. It's the least I can do.”

“And what about you?” Colin asked. “Dad said you wanted to change out your Bimmer?”