Recovery (12 page)

“We met at Nicci’s publisher’s party,” Dallas said, sounding more charming than I had ever heard. “I fell for her the moment I saw her.” He laughed, his fake-sounding laugh, as he pulled me closer to his side.

Sammy smiled, but the eagerness had drained from her face. She let her gaze linger for a moment on my dress. A flash of recognition registered in her eyes and I could not help but smile.

“Oh, I read your book, my dear.” She patted me gently on the arm. “And I simply loved it. How on earth did you come up with all of those interesting characters?” Her capped white fangs lingered in front of me for a moment. “You are a very good writer, Nicci. I can’t wait for the next one.”

I felt Dallas pinch my arm. “I’m working on it as we speak, Mrs. Fallon.” I frowned at him, not sure what the pinch meant, but he just stood there grinning like an idiot.

“I’m so glad.” Sammy paused and glanced casually about the room. “So how is your father, Nicci?”

“He’s here tonight with Uncle Lance,” I said, knowing Sammy would immediately go in search of him. For years it had been rumored that Sammy’s obsession with Beauvoir Scrap had been the result of her unrequited love for my father.

Sammy’s eyes eagerly darted about the ballroom. “I’ll have to find Bill and say hello. Have fun this evening,” she added and was about to turn away when Dallas stopped her.

“Sammy!” he called out. “I hope you will save me a dance?”

I watched as Sammy’s face lit up with renewed interest. “Why, I would be delighted, Dallas,” she cooed and then her smile faltered slightly as she turned to me. “That is if you don’t mind, Nicci?”

“No, of course not.” I gave her my best well-rehearsed smile reserved solely for the overly curious and generally obnoxious. “What’s one dance between old friends?” I added, sarcastically.

She laughed, gave Dallas another hungry look, and then casually walked away.

“Pushing it a bit,” Dallas mumbled under his breath beside me.

“I owe her.” I paused and eyed him warily. “Be careful dancing with that one. You might catch something.”

“I hope that means you’re getting jealous,” he whispered in my ear.

I let my eyes wander over to the entrance. “No. Just wondering what you’re up to.”

His eyes followed mine. “Let me know when you see Eddie around. I want to make sure he sees me dancing with his mother. That should set off some fireworks.”

“I hope you brought your gun.”

“Time for a drink,” he announced, pulling me in the direction of the bar.

Dallas did not loosen his grip on my arm until we had reached the bamboo-covered bar. We had just ordered two glasses of champagne when Val came up to our side, smiling.

“Heads up,” she whispered to me. “BeBe invited the moron.”

I pretended to look shocked. “Val, no!”

“Thought you should know,” she said, and then she skirted back into the crowd.

I turned to Dallas. “Val just found out about BeBe inviting Michael.”

Dallas stood next to me staring out into the room. “That should spark some interest in this group. They’ll all be waiting to see what happens between you and him.”

The bartender returned with two champagne flutes filled with the golden liquid. I picked up my glass and quickly downed half of the contents in one sip. Dallas watched as I placed the empty flute back on the bar.

“You drink a lot,” Dallas stated.

I glared at him without saying a word.

“In fact,” he went on, “ever since we visited the French Quarter, I’ve noticed you have been drinking quite a bit.” He looked past me to the partygoers filling the ballroom. “Something bothering you, Nicci?”

I sighed into his shoulder. “Yes, this entire escapade is getting to me.”

“Don’t quit on me now.” His eyes focused on something behind me. “Not when it’s just about to get very interesting,” he mumbled.

“Nicci?” a rather high-pitched voice said behind me.

I felt a familiar twinge of dread in my stomach when I heard that childlike twang. I turned around knowing who I would see standing behind me.

“Michael,” I said as I faced his pale blue eyes. “How nice to see you.”

He was exactly the same as I remembered. He stood only an inch or two taller than I was and still appeared bulky, as if he lifted weights in his spare time. His pale skin did nothing to help his square face and thin lips. He was dressed in a rather cheap-looking tuxedo, which hung from his shoulders like a trench coat. He was holding a glass of champagne trying to appear sophisticated, but as usual, Michael only seemed more awkward than confident. His eyes eagerly swept up and down my figure, and I could hear his inner voice berating my choice of dress for being a bit too revealing.

He gave a strained smile. “How are you?”

“I’m well, Michael.” Dallas tugged at my arm and I motioned to him. “Michael Fagles, this is Dallas August. Dallas is an architect from New York in town for the holidays.”

Michael extended his hand. “Actually, it’s Dr. Michael Fagles.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling that familiar pang of distaste swell up from the pit of my stomach. It was the conditioned response I had developed to Michael’s blatant condescension. Then Michael reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. I almost groaned out loud.

Dallas took the card, and I noticed how he tried to contain his smug grin by turning his head downward, pretending to read the card carefully.

“You’re a psychiatrist?” Dallas said, finally looking up and appearing quite serious. He then nudged me playfully. “Did you and Nicci work together? Is that how you know each other?”

I almost reached over and stomped on his foot.

Michael cleared his throat nervously. “Nicci didn’t tell you?”

Dallas feigned ignorance, raising his dark brows and smiling.

Michael cleared his throat again. “Nicci and I were engaged for a time a few years back. Before she became a writer.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize.” A look of dismay erased Dallas’s smile. I observed his performance with a sinking feeling of dread. “So you knew her before that painter…” Dallas turned to me. “What was his name, darling?”

I gulped back my surprise and fought to keep my face composed. “His name was David Alexander,” I replied and waited for Michael’s reaction.

Michael gave an uncharacteristically charming smile. “No. I met her after that painter,” he calmly stated.

Suddenly a bright tuft of red hair peeked out over Michael’s shoulder. Eddie’s red face moved out from behind Michael. Eddie was dressed in a form-fitted black tuxedo that screamed the benefits of good tailoring against Michael’s ill-fitting rental. Eddie and Michael both stood there staring at me.

Now I know what hell is like
, I thought to myself.

“Eddie!” Dallas called out as he reached out happily and shook Eddie’s stubby hand. “You must know Dr. Michael Fagles.”

I could not help but stifle my grin when I heard Dallas accentuate the word “doctor” just as Michael had done.

Eddie and Michael eyed each other tentatively but did not shake hands.

Dallas unexpectedly removed my hand from his arm and handed me over to Michael. I glared at him, wondering what in the hell he was up to.

“Why don’t you two take a turn out on the dance floor, for old time’s sake?” Dallas waved to the vacant black and white floor. “I’m just going to go over to the buffet table and grab some of that enticing food.” He turned his gaze to the long white linen-covered tables off to our right. “The smell is driving me mad,” he added as he clapped his hands together.

I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could say anything, Dallas put his mouth over mine and smothered me with a long kiss.

When he finally came up for air, he winked at me. “Go have some fun, sweet cheeks.”

He then quickly scurried away, moving past Eddie and heading for the buffet tables.

“How have you been, Nicci?” Michael asked. “I heard you were back in town and…” He looked over at Eddie staring at us and then he took my hand. “Let’s go dance.”

Leaving a bewildered Eddie behind us, Michael led me to the dance floor. But right before we stepped out onto the black and white floor, I saw Dallas coming toward us with Sammy on his arm.

I glanced back over my shoulder to see Eddie’s green eyes all over his mother and Dallas. I silently prayed Dallas knew what he was doing, and hoped nobody ended up in the hospital before the evening was done.

My body flinched as Michael placed his arm about my waist, and when the smell of his heavy cologne hit my nostrils, a wave of revulsion rose in the back of my throat. I reined in the flood of unhappy memories cascading through me like toxic waste and tried to focus on the task at hand.

“I thought you would have been married to a nice little girl by now,” I said to Michael as the music slowed in the background.

Michael pulled my body closer to his. “None of the women have been you, Nicci. You’re not an easy woman to get over.”

“How is your family?” I asked, repressing an urge to slap him.

He shrugged. “My sister Kathy finally got married to her longtime fiancé, George. You remember him. They have a little boy on the way.” He paused and rolled his eyes playfully. “And my mother is still trying to set me up with just about every single girl she meets.”

That made me laugh. I remembered how his mother and my aunt plotted shamelessly to push Michael and me together.

“How is that cousin of yours? I heard about her divorce from Eddie.” His face became somber. “I have to tell you I was rather relieved when she left him. I’ve heard a lot of bad stories about Sammy’s son since you left.”

“Colleen is doing well. She’s dating some boy she met at Tulane. She has Eddie’s money and her freedom from my aunt so I guess she has finally found some happiness.”

“And does she still stand out in a crowd?” Michael asked, almost laughing. “I recall the first time we saw your cousin’s transformation from a demure, rather chubby, debutante to a Sammy Fallon look-a-like. At the time we were celebrating your graduation from nursing school and,” his eyes met mine, “our engagement.”

Out of the corner of my eye I spied Dallas and Sammy dancing not far from us.

“Colleen’s here tonight and you should see her dress,” I said casually. I felt myself becoming easily distracted by Dallas’s shameless flirting with Sammy.

“That dress…” His voice faltered for a second. “You wore it the night of our engagement party. The night David came back in your life.” His fingers pressed firmly into my skin as we danced.

I looked back up into his eyes and couldn’t help but wonder if he had been the last person to see David alive.

“It must have been hard for you losing him like that. I am sorry.” He sighed. “Actually, I’m sorry for a lot of things. I realized after you left that I may not have been what you needed. And then I read your book.” He paused. “I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between the internist in the book and me. I was an over-controlling ass who never allowed you to have your own life. Your book helped me realize that I destroyed our relationship just as much as David did.”

I wondered if I should feel touched or concerned by his words. “Michael, I don’t know what to say, but thank you. I know how angry you must have been after I called off our engagement. But I’m glad you understand what David meant to me.”

“Yes, but when you agreed to marry me I thought you had forgotten about him.”

I kept my face composed while my mind rapidly searched for the right words to appease him. “I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am over everything that happened between us.” I gazed once more into his pale blue eyes and, for an instant, I yearned for the mischievous twinkle of David’s gray eyes before me. “I hope one day you can forgive me.”

“You are forgiven.” He pulled me closer and whispered, “So why didn’t you call me after David died?”

A ripple of disbelief made its way down my spine. I recoiled away from him. “Call you?”

His rough, calloused hand tightened over mine. “I could have helped you work through your grief, and after all we had been through together, you could have used a friend.” He paused. “I know things ended badly between us, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t be there for you. Can’t two people who loved each other once, still be friends?”

I stopped dancing and studied his face, trying to judge the depth of his sincerity. “I never thought you would want to see me again after everything that happened.”

He laughed and reached for me again. “Nonsense, Nicci. I always hoped at some point we could put the past behind us.”

A rush of suspicion overtook me and I tried to pull away. “You want to be friends? I don’t understand, Michael. Is business so bad that you need me back on your arm, to what, hand out more business cards?”

His eyes worriedly darted about the dance floor as he held me in his arms. “Nicci, lower your voice. You’re taking this the wrong way. I didn’t mean…” He frowned and shook his head.

I struggled to free myself as I searched the dance floor for Dallas. “Perhaps you should be dancing with Sammy instead of me. She’s better connected and knows a lot more screwed up people than I do.”