The Last Groom on Earth (4 page)

“No. I was in my office working.”

“Oh. The new game?” Kelly pulled a soft drink out of the refrigerator and plopped down at the table across from Angela.

“Yeah.” Angela didn’t think it was necessary to add that she had gotten almost nothing done on the project.

“Sorry. I told Bryce you were gone.”

“He wanted to see me?” Angela looked at her sharply.

“He was going to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” Angela’s eyebrows vaulted upward. Something strangely like panic seized her chest. “He’s left? I mean, gone back to Charlotte? Already?”

“Well, just for a few days. He told me what he wants to look at when he comes back, so I’m getting the records printed up for him. In the meantime, he’s gone back to Charlotte to tie up some things there. He said he’d be back here Monday.”

“Oh. Of course.” Angela looked down into her empty yogurt container, busily scraping the remains of the creamy stuff off the sides and bottom of the cup, as she asked casually, “What did he do today?”

“Not much. Sort of familiarized himself with our system. Asked me a bunch of questions about how the business office is run and who has access to what. Internal security sort of things. Apparently he thinks we’re pretty sloppy.”

Angela snorted indelicately.
“He’d
probably accuse St. Peter of keeping sloppy accounts.”

Kelly chuckled. “You’re too hard on him. He seems like a nice guy. Very polite.” She paused, then added, “Not to mention cute.”

“Cute?” Angela wrinkled her nose. “Puppies are cute. Bryce Richards is not cute.”

“All right. Handsome, then. What is it with you two?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you hired him, and he’s a friend of your family’s. But you keep making cracks about him. And he keeps asking questions about you—not all of which are what I would consider business-related—but when I suggested that he ask you some of those questions instead of me, he turned all stiff and wouldn’t do it. So what’s the deal?”

Angela shrugged. “There’s no deal. We’ve known each other since I was twelve, and he is good friends with my mother and father, but the two of us never hit
it off. We’re complete opposites. He’s totally anal and obsessive.”

Kelly laughed. “He said you were—I believe it was unrealistic and impractical.”

“That’s typical.” Angela got up and went to the microwave to take out her cup and plop the tea bag in it. “I guess he’s not bad, really. He’s just so into numbers and things. You know.” She turned and grinned at her friend. “You might like him, actually. At least you could understand what he talks about. I never could. Maybe you could even get him to lighten up a little.”

“I don’t think he’d be interested in me,” Kelly retorted. “I got the distinct impression that it’s you he’s got a thing for.”

“Got a thing for?” Angela repeated disbelievingly. “Uh-uh. Believe me, I am not his type. He’s so uptight and correct he probably wears pajamas to bed—with little paisley patterns all over them.” She paused, then added, “Ironed pajamas. Starched.”

Kelly chuckled and said, “Then why did he keep looking toward your office every time he went out into the hall today if he isn’t interested in you?”

“He’s probably trying to avoid me—like I was trying to avoid him.”

Kelly studied her thoughtfully, then went on. “Okay. Tell me this… why is it necessary for you all to try so hard to do that? Hmm? I mean, I think it’d come naturally to two people who didn’t like each other.”

With that parting shot, Kelly left the kitchen, throwing a last teasing glance over her shoulder as she walked out the door. Angela grimaced as she picked up her cup and followed her. Kelly had been teasing
her, she told herself. There was no basis for what she had said. She and Bryce had succumbed to some strange quirk of passion last night. It didn’t mean that he had any real interest in her. And, certainly, she was not interested in him!

W
ith Bryce gone, Angela’s work progressed more quickly. It surprised her a little since for the two or three weeks before this her brain seemed to have been stuck. Every time she had tried to concentrate on the plot for the new game, her mind had willfully gone back to worrying over their tax situation. Now, however, it didn’t intrude. Reluctant as she was to admit it, she realized finally that she must have confidence that Bryce would find the problem and handle it, and she was able to relax and return to her work.

Friday afternoon, Angela again stayed at the office after the others had gone. She often worked after hours, as it was much easier without the noise and distractions of the day. Often Tim or Kelly or one of the others worked late as well. Theirs was a loose sort of business where workers more or less set their own hours.

Tonight Angela was by herself in the office. Kelly had a date, and Tim and his family had gone to the beach for the weekend. Angela’s fingers flew over the computer keyboard as she expanded her ideas. Over the past hour, she had been growing gradually more aware that she was hungry, but she was too deeply involved in the creative process to stop and get something to eat.

Finally, however, a harsh metallic clang intruded on her consciousness, and she looked up from her computer screen.
What in the world had that been?
Her heart picked up its beat. She knew that there should be no one else in the office, especially up here on the second floor, which was primarily her, Tim’s and Kelly’s domain. She thought about burglars. There was never much cash in their office, but they did have lots of expensive electronic equipment—and not just equipment, either; Tim’s office was full of all the games he loved and their paraphernalia.

Angela stood up and tiptoed to the door into the hallway to peer out cautiously. Light slanted out of Kelly’s open door into the hallway. Angela’s heart began to race. She knew that Kelly had left almost three hours earlier. There was no reason why anyone should be in her office—and Kelly’s door was always locked, since many of their records were kept there. That meant whoever was there would have had to break in.

Angela glanced back at the telephone on her desk and wondered if she should call 911. But somehow she could not quite believe that someone had really broken in, and she thought of how stupid she would feel if she called 911 and they came charging in only to find that Kelly’s date had been broken at the last minute and she had decided to come work off her irritation.
Angela stood for a moment indecisively then tiptoed back to her desk and picked up the large piece of mahogany obsidian that she used as a paperweight. Hefting it in one hand, she sneaked out the door and down the hall, careful not to make a sound. At Kelly’s door, she peeked around the doorframe. She could see nothing except Kelly’s desk, the desk lamp casting a golden circle of light over it. Angela leaned farther in, her head craning around to see behind Kelly’s desk.

On the other side of Kelly’s office, hidden by the open door, a file drawer banged against its metal frame as it rolled in. Angela jumped, an involuntary gasp escaping her, and the heavy rock slipped from her hand. It hit the floor with a loud thud.

“What the hell!”

Angela froze. There were footsteps and an instant later, a man’s hand swung the door all the way open. Bryce Richards stepped into the doorway.

“Oh. It’s you,” they chorused.

Angela let out her breath and pressed her hand against her chest, where her heart was pounding cra-zily.

“What the hell did you do?” Bryce asked, and his gaze fell to the rock on the floor between them. “Did you drop that?”

Angela nodded.

He looked at her as if she might be deranged. “What were you doing carrying a rock around?”

Angela stiffened. “I thought you might be a burglar. So I picked up my paperweight before I came to investigate. What do you think I should have done, come without anything to protect myself?”

“If you thought I was a burglar, the smart thing would have been to stay in your office and call the police.”

“Well, then we’d have looked pretty silly, wouldn’t we?” she retorted.

He shrugged. “Better silly than shot by a startled thief.”

He bent and picked up the chunk of dark rock flecked with red and handed it back to her with a mockly formal bow. Angela grimaced and cradled the rock in the crook of her arm.

“What are
you
doing here?” she asked ungraciously. “I thought you were in Charlotte the rest of the week.”

“I was. But I finished early this afternoon, so I thought I’d drive down and get started. This weekend’ll be a good time to work. Nobody around. It’ll take less time away from my business. And Kelly had given me her spare set of keys.”

It irritated Angela that Bryce seemed to view her business’s problem as something to do in his spare time, not his real “business.”

“I take it you don’t believe in taking time off?” she asked tartly.

Bryce cocked an eyebrow and asked pointedly, “And what are you doing here?”

Angela flushed, but said, “It’s easier to work now when it’s quiet.”

“I rest my case.”

“I’m
not
a workaholic,” Angela went on defensively. “I simply set different hours from some people. I come to work late.”

Bryce grinned unexpectedly and said, “It’s okay for you to work late. I’m not accusing you of anything.”

Angela glared back at him, annoyed. She was the one who had been acting unreasonably, sniping at him for working after hours as if it were some kind of crime, yet she couldn’t help feeling that for some reason she needed to defend herself. Bryce Richards had that effect on her. She always felt guilty and in the wrong around him. Grimacing, she turned on her heel and started back toward her office.

“Wait.”

Angela turned. Bryce was standing in the doorway of the office, frowning after her. “What?”

“Would you tell me something?”

She shrugged. “I suppose.”

“What is it exactly that you have against me? You asked me to work on this for you, if you’ll remember. I didn’t force you.”

“Of course not.” Angela squirmed mentally. “I didn’t mean to be…well, I’m just a little irritable this evening. I’ve probably been working too long today.”

“It isn’t just today. It’s been the same since I met you when you were twelve years old. You took an instant dislike to me, and you’ve never changed your opinion.”

Angela was at a loss for words. She simply stared at him, guilt washing over her. Bryce was right. She had been terrible to him when she was younger. Even if he had been stiff and rather priggish, he hadn’t deserved all her childish pranks. And her own unhappiness wasn’t a sufficient excuse for the way she had acted.

“I—I’m sorry,” she said finally, her gaze dropping.

“You needn’t apologize. I simply wondered.”

“Yes, I do need to apologize.” Angela raised her eyes to him. “I was a perfect rat to you back when I was a kid. I’m sure you must have hated me.”

A smile quirked up the corner of his mouth. “I was not overly fond of you, no.” He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb and crossed his arms. “But I suppose most adolescents are pests.”

“Not like I was. You probably won’t believe this, but nowadays I’m generally considered a nice person. Back then I was—I don’t know—unhappy, bitter. And I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have.” She smiled faintly. “That’s probably why I’ve been less than pleasant to you this time, too. The minute I saw you, all those old, bad feelings rose in me. As well as guilt for the way I’d treated you. I’m sorry, both for then and now.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Well…” Angela took a deep breath. “I feel better now. Got the monkey off my back. I tell you what. I’m starving. Why don’t I take you out for some food—an olive branch, so to speak.”

Surprise flitted across his face, but he said only, “Sure. That sounds good.”

“Great.” Angela grinned impishly. “Just let me take my rock back to my office and get my keys, and we’ll go.”

She returned a few moments later to find Bryce waiting, the suit jacket, which he had taken off earlier was once again in place, along with his tie.

Angela smothered a grin. Bryce obviously was not in tune with the casual life-style of their office. “We aren’t going anywhere fancy,” she said, reaching over and tugging the lapel of his jacket.

He shrugged. “I’ve worn a suit so many years I guess I feel uncomfortable without it.”

Angela bit back the instinctive biting remark that rose to her lips, reminding herself that she had decided to make peace with Bryce. She was no longer the lonely, bitter girl she had once been. She was mature and could make a new judgment about the man, forget the old prejudices and dislikes.

Bryce followed Angela down the stairs and out into the parking lot. He cast a doubtful glance at her sporty red Miata, but he climbed into it gamely. He even kept his lips firmly closed as she zipped in and out of traffic, driving with her usual speed, verve and skill. Still, he looked relieved when they reached the restaurant and stopped.

The restaurant was in an old house in the University area, and except for the bold peach color of its walls and the green accents of its trim, Bryce would have taken it for a home. There was no sign proclaiming its name in front.

As soon as they walked in the front door, a tall, thin man with a balding head greeted Angela gleefully. “Angela Hewitt! Carrie and I were just talking about you today. Said you hadn’t been in for a month. We thought maybe you’d crossed us off your list.”

“Don’t be a dope,” Angela responded, giving the thin man a hug. “It’s only been a couple of weeks, anyway.”

She turned toward Bryce, saying, “Max, here’s somebody I want you to meet—Bryce Richards. He’s here from Charlotte. A friend of my parents. Bryce, this is Maxwell Janco, the owner of this fine establishment.”

“Co-owner,” the man corrected. “Eileen’d rip your heart out if she heard you slighted her.” He reached out and shook Bryce’s hand firmly. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Janco.”

“Hey, call me Max. Everybody does.”

Max beamed at Bryce. He reminded Bryce of a crane, with his tall, thin frame, and the jeans and old white T-shirt that he wore only accentuated his thinness. His bony, pale feet were laced into sandals that looked as if they’d come straight out of the Bible. Perhaps in compensation for his incipient baldness, he wore his dark hair long in back, catching it up in a pony tail in the back of his head. He had twinkling dark eyes, and the lower half of his face was dominated by a long, luxuriant, old-fashioned handlebar mustache, waxed into an amazing upward curl. He was, Bryce thought, one of the oddest-looking creatures he had ever met, certainly nothing like how he envisioned the owner or host of a restaurant.

“You want a table on the patio?” Max asked Angela, picking up a couple of menus and beginning to amble toward a door in the back wall.

“You know me,” Angela replied. “I love the patio.”

“You’ll have it all to yourself tonight,” Max said, agreeably.

Personally Bryce had little enthusiasm for eating outdoors; he saw no reason to have to wave away bugs and listen to traffic on the street while eating his food. However, he held his tongue. He wasn’t about to spoil the fragile peace between him and Angela tonight.

And when Max led them onto the small wooden deck, tucked away from the street behind the house
and further protected from noise by a high wall on one side, Bryce had to admit that it was a cozy and charming place to eat. There was greenery all around the small, intimate tables. Flowering plants hung from the overhead latticework, and ivy cascaded down the protective wall. On the two open sides, small shrubs edged the patio, and low lights scattered through the side yard gave one a view of a dainty garden, complete with goldfish pool. Discreet lighting placed here and there around the poles and latticework ceiling lent the patio a soft, romantic air.

“Very attractive,” Bryce said politely as Max left them.

“I think so. It’s my favorite restaurant. And the food is simply wonderful.”

Bryce opened his menu and began to skim down the selections. He had been growing hungrier by the second as they drove over here. His eyes ran the list of salads, pastas and vegetable casseroles. He stopped and looked more carefully at each section. There were no steaks, no roast beefs, not even a hamburger, unless one counted the Soyburger Eileen. He looked back up at Angela warily.

“Is everything here vegetarian?”

Angela nodded. “Yes. They have dishes with eggs and cheeses in them, though.”

“But no meat.”

“No. But it’s great…it really is. The Greek salad is scrumptious.”

‘Actually, I had something a little more substantial in mind.”

“Well, they have heartier meals, too. This vegetable and brown rice casserole is really filling. Or the veggie fajitas.” She paused and asked tentatively, “I’m
sorry, I didn’t think. Are you very opposed to meatless dishes?”

“No. I can live.” A wry smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “I should have known you were into health food.”

“Well, actually, I’m not a vegetarian. I even eat hamburgers, which drives Eileen crazy.”

At that moment the door onto the patio opened, and a large woman rushed out, followed more sedately by a waitress carrying a water pitcher and order tablet. The woman was tall; Bryce judged her to be close to six feet, and she was built like a Valkyrie. She wore a loose patterned dress that fell to her ankles and shoes similar to her husband’s. Her hair was black and shot through with a single dramatic streak of white, and she wore it fastened into a long, thick braid hanging almost down to her waist. A necklace of tiny bells jangled on her ample bosom.

“Angela!”

“Eileen.” Angela jumped to her feet and went forward to greet the other woman. Eileen hugged Angela enthusiastically.

“I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Two weeks,” Angela protested faintly.

The other woman waved her words away. “You came to eat here. But you haven’t been to the house in at least two months. Judy and Bean miss you.”