“We haven’t had this much excitement since Zeke did the funky chicken in the nude out here on New Year’s Day,” Fanny said, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “That was really something.”
Sue Ellen nudged Skye aside to get closer to her sister. “Leena, why are you having sex with Cole in public?”
“Remember, she did say he was a dead man, so maybe she was going to kill him by having sex with him. You know, like those spiders who eat their mates.” This suggestion came from Fanny.
Several people began speaking at once. Leena put her fingers in her mouth and let out the kind of piercing whistle that could halt cabs on Michigan Avenue. All at once, the babble stopped.
“I heard that!” Fanny said.
“Good. I hope the rest of you heard it too. And hear this. Cole and I did not have sex in my car. Or anywhere else,” Leena added, knowing how Lulu thought. “Aren’t you going to say anything, Cole?”
“I didn’t plan on it, no. You seem to be handling things just fine.”
“Oh, so you were just handling his things, and not going all the way,” Lulu said.
“I give up,” Leena muttered. “You people are all crazed. I’m out of here.” She turned on the car, gunned the engine enough to make everyone back away, and then took off. She was half a block away before she realized Cole was still in her car.
She slammed on the brakes. “Get out!”
He shot her a reproachful look. “Is that any way to speak to your boss?”
“You just told me that you didn’t want to talk to me as my boss.”
“And we still haven’t talked, so I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then neither am I.” She put the car in Park.
“Fine by me.”
“Me too.”
It wasn’t fine by the driver behind them. Sure,
now
there was traffic on Barwell Street. Any other time and the place was dead, even if it was Rock Creek’s main street.
“If you keep blocking traffic, Nathan will show up again and eventually the rest of the crowd will as well.” Cole didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by the possibility, but Leena had had enough for one day. She put the car back in Drive. “Fine. Talk.”
“You don’t seem to be in a good listening mood.”
“Ya think?”
“I wanted to explain about the bet.”
“Go ahead. Give it your best shot.”
“Agreeing to that bet was probably a mistake.”
Probably?
Probably?
Her anger increased. “If that’s your best shot, it sucks.”
They were interrupted by Sue Ellen driving up beside them in her pink Batmobile. “Do not upset my sister!” Sue Ellen shouted at Cole. “She might hurt you.”
“Who do you think she’s trying to protect?” Cole asked Leena with one of his killer grins. “You or me?”
“She’s in the oncoming traffic lane. Sue Ellen, you’re in the wrong lane!” Leena shouted at her sister. “You’re going to cause an accident!”
Fifteen minutes later Leena, Cole, and Sue Ellen were all seated in the sheriff’s office, facing an aggravated Nathan.
“I thought Cole was your best friend,” Sue Ellen said, shaking her head at Nathan. “I can’t believe you arrested his girlfriend and the girlfriend’s sister of your best friend. Plus my sister is a famous model. You better not leak this to the tabloids.”
“I am not Cole’s girlfriend,” Leena’s voice shook with outrage. “And this is all his fault.” She jerked a thumb in Cole’s direction.
“I was merely an innocent bystander.” Cole had taken a straight-backed chair and turned it around so his arms were braced on the top. “You two ladies were the dangerous drivers.”
“I’ll tell you what’s dangerous,” Leena said. “Making bets that you can get me to agree to go out on a date with you.”
“She’s got a point there,” Nathan agreed.
Cole quickly defended himself. “The bet was Algee’s idea.”
Leena waved his words away. “Sure. Try and blame him when he’s not here to defend himself.”
Cole pulled out his cell phone. “I can give him a call and have him come over.”
Leena shook her head. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Because you believe me?”
“No, because I want this farce over with as quickly as possible,” Leena said.
Nathan slapped Cole on the back. “Go ahead and tell her. Algee confessed and you should too.”
“Shut up,” Cole growled.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to say
shut up
to the sheriff even if he is your friend,” Sue Ellen said.
“Tell who what?” Leena demanded.
When Cole remained stubbornly silent, Nathan answered on his behalf. “He likes you.”
Leena frowned. “Who likes me?”
“My cat Tripod,” Cole said with a warning speak-and-you-will-regret-it look at Nathan.
“Come on, Sue Ellen, let’s leave these two alone for a few minutes to work things out,” Nathan said.
Sue Ellen was reluctant, her expression concerned. “What if things turn violent?”
“Cole would never hurt your sister,” Nathan reassured her.
“I was referring to Leena,” Sue Ellen said.
“They’ll be fine. Come on.” Nathan guided her out of his office.
Once they were alone, Cole quickly lowered his head to rest on his arms across the back of the chair.
Leena felt guilty at his seemingly dejected body language. He seemed more vulnerable without his cocky attitude. She was incredibly tempted to run her fingers through his hair.
“I’m sorry,” she heard herself saying. “I know you’ve had a long day and so have I. Plus it’s no help that people keep thinking I’m going to beat you up.” That had to dent a guy’s confidence, even someone as sure of himself as Cole. “I probably shouldn’t have said you’re a dead man.”
Leena watched as Cole’s shoulders shook.
Oh no! Had she made the guy cry?
Scrambling to her feet, she moved closer to rub his shoulder reassuringly. “It’ll be okay.”
He shook his bent head.
“Yes, it will. It’ll be okay. This incident is just a minor speed bump really.”
When Cole lifted his head and dashed away the tears, Leena felt lower than a glob of dirt on a glob of gum stuck on the sole of one of her Naughty Monkey shoes.
Then she heard a sound. Was it a muffled sob?
Wait a second. That was no sob. That was a choked laugh.
Which meant those tears weren’t caused by emotional upset at all. The man was laughing at her.
Leena barely restrained herself from socking his shoulder in retaliation. She
hated
people laughing at her. They’d laughed at her when she was a fat kid. Called her names. Made fun of her. Lard-faced Leena. Big Bottom. Fat Pig.
Tears unexpectedly stung her eyes. And they weren’t tears of mirth.
“Hey.” Cole leapt to his feet and came toward her.
She retreated until her back was up against the wall holding a bulletin board of wanted posters.
“This isn’t turning out the way I planned at all,” Cole muttered.
“Do
not
laugh at me.”
“I wasn’t. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Oh hell . . .” He kissed her. Tender and sweet, hot and healing.
Her anger should have protected her from him, but he slipped past her defenses. As he always did. She melted, as she always did. She responded, as she always did, her lips parting and her tongue greeting his. She wasn’t surrendering as much as becoming totally submerged, drowning in the pleasure he created within her.
Leena moaned her approval as Cole slipped his hand beneath her white T-shirt to caress her breast. Her silky bra amplified his touch, making each brush of his thumb across her nipple even more exquisite.
Leena didn’t hear the door open, but she sure heard Skye saying, “When I told you guys to get a room, I didn’t mean the sheriff’s office. Sue Ellen,” Skye called over her shoulder, “your sister is making out with the vet again.”
Chapter Twelve
Leena managed to escape the sheriff’s office with some small scrap of dignity left. But even that was torn away when she bumped into Sister Mary right outside.
“I heard you got my nephew arrested,” the nun said.
“We weren’t arrested. We were—”
“Making out in the sheriff’s office,” Skye said, joining them. “And I thought
I
was a bad girl. Here. You forgot this.” She handed Leena her Coach bag.
“Making out in the sheriff’s office?” Sister Mary repeated. “And you chose that location because . . . ?”
“They can’t seem to keep their hands off one another,” Skye said.
“Because of the bet,” Sue Ellen said as she joined them.
Sister Mary frowned at this latest bit of information.
“They can’t keep their hands off each other because of a bet?”
Leena couldn’t blame the nun for being confused. She was confused too. What had possessed her to let Cole kiss her that way?
She hadn’t merely
let
him kiss her, she’d kissed him back. Avidly. With parted lips and merging tongues. Mega French kissing. His hand caressing her breast.
“No, Cole and Algee made a bet . . .” While Sue Ellen tried explaining, Leena felt the top button of her pants pop off. She watched it roll across the cracked sidewalk and fall down the sewer grate.
The fat girl within her cringed.
That was it. The last straw.
Without saying a word, Leena headed for her car parked a few feet away and retrieved the Ding Dongs, aside from her half-eaten one, and the Sara Lee cakes.
“Here.” Leena handed the food over to Sister Mary. “For your food bank.”
Sue Ellen stared at her sister in amazement. Leena couldn’t blame her. She’d been acting irrationally. That ended now.
Sue Ellen owned the irrational title in the family. Leena was the one with dreams. Emma was the smart one.
That’s how it had always been. Until Leena’s dreams had come crashing down around her head.
Pride was a painful thing. So was feeling like a loser. Failure hurt.
Using food as a crutch wasn’t going to help anything even if it did make Leena feel better in the short term. She needed to stay focused on the long term, to remember what her goal was here.
Yeah, right. And what were the chances that a twenty-nine-year-old washed-up plus-size model could make a comeback?
Leena almost snatched the Sara Lee cakes from Sister Mary’s hands.
Instead she returned to her car and drove away. She wished she could just keep driving, right out of town, out of the entire state. But the loser state she was in would travel with her.
Losing was a state of mind. One she couldn’t seem to rid herself of no matter how hard she tried.
Fake it till you make it
just wasn’t working very well.
So here she was, driving her used Sebring with less than a quarter tank of gas in it, with no place to go. Back in Chicago she would have gone shopping. Or would have gotten an essential well-being massage-and-facial combo at her favorite spa. She’d lived the good life, spending her money the instant she got it. Then her career slowed down and she was spending the money
before
she got it. Then she wasn’t getting any money in. Or a mere trickle compared to where she’d been at the height of her career.
And okay, she’d never earned the megabucks that supermodels made, but she’d made good money.
Very
good money. Where had it all gone? On clothes and shoes and massages and pedicures?
Yeah, pretty much. And it had gone really fast.
Regrets. Leena had lots of them. She regretted that those days were gone. She regretted not being more careful about her finances. She regretted being forced to come home with her tail between her legs like a vagrant mutt.
But that was only the beginning of the list. She regretted being the laughingstock of this stupid town. She regretted making out with Cole.
Did she really? Did she really regret him kissing her?
She sure should. She had enough on her plate without falling for a charmer with commitment issues and a short attention span. Cole was the guy who signed her paycheck. A paycheck she desperately needed for now. And she was damn good at the job. Her organizational skills were still something she could be proud of. At least she was still good at something. She’d turned the chaos of his office into an efficient operation.
So why couldn’t she do the same with her own life? Why couldn’t she organize the chaos?
Maybe because she didn’t rule the world.
She couldn’t even rule her tiny corner of the world. She couldn’t even rule the Regency Mobile Home Park.
She saw Bart sitting out on his deck as she pulled in. When he waved and called out a greeting, for some reason she stopped to talk to him.
Not just rolling down her window and saying “hi” but getting out of the car and sitting down on the empty chair he patted beside him.
“You look like you could use some cheering up,” Bart said.
“Your specialty, right?”
“It is what clowns do.”
“Did you always want to be a clown?”
Bart nodded and poured her some ice tea from the pitcher on the table. He had a small stack of plastic cups as if he were expecting company.
“Were you waiting for someone?” she said.
“Yes. You.”
“Why?” she asked suspiciously.
“Relax. I just wanted to pick your mind a little. But to get back to your question, yes, I always wanted to be a clown. How about you? Did you always want to be a model?”
“Yeah, but I never thought it would be possible unless I miraculously shrank in half. I’m tall but I’m not tiny. Then I heard about plus-size modeling. Even that is a strange title. Plus size. What is that? The average woman in this country is a size fourteen. We’re not plus. We’re normal. I think the skinny models should be called minus-size models.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“It’s not good. You have no idea how difficult it is for young girls who don’t meet those unrealistic standards. They never have a good self-image because their ideals aren’t healthy.”