Authors: Samantha Lovern
“You, me and Randi.” Emma tried to sound upbeat. “The news just winded me. We can do this.”
“Sure we can. Will any of the caterers stay around when the food comes? If they help place everything on the tables that will a big help.”
Emma brightened. “I hadn’t thought of that. That will help, and they’ll be back later in the day to pick up the discards and such. I’m getting too old to deal with disasters like this.”
Ann, feeling revived, rose and went on with her task. “Oh, it’s not as bad as you think. We’ll just need to be coordinated, and if the children become an issue, I have some friends that can come over to help baby-sit and generally keep an eye on things that break.”
“What would they charge?”
“Not much. A few of them can’t get home for the holidays. If you let them eat and have drinks, I can work the rest out. They’re good kids, most of them brainiacs."
“That’s great. You’re a dream. Give two of them notice, and see if they can find something semi-matching to wear, white or black shirts with jeans. That reminds me, we need to change soon before the guests start arriving.”
“I was hoping you would forget.” Ann looked down. “My legs just were not meant for skirts.”
Emma rose from the table and let out a sigh as she turned to look at Ann. “Just wear dark slacks. With everything that will be going on, I doubt if Celia or anyone will have time or inclination to even notice.”
Chapter 49
Water Works
Martin was going to get his chance to face Celia, but he wanted to be wearing more than a towel when he did so. He should have known she would try something like this. It’d been a while since they’d had sex, true, but he wasn’t an animal. Seeing Celia naked or half-dressed wouldn’t be enough to cause him to take her to his bed.
She’d knocked twice already. He’d been wearing the towel ever since he climbed from the shower. In his line of work, there were very few places that one felt enough at ease to be totally naked. You never knew when some maid or some fan might barge in and plaster pictures of you all over the next day’s papers.
Martin was finished shaving, leaving the goatee and 'stache. He bent down, washed off the shaving cream, and then washed his hands. He ran his fingers through his all-but-dry hair, looking at the door. He might as well face her now and get this over with.
He’d gone over the speech so many times in his mind that he knew exactly what he was going to say. He’d rehearsed it and memorized it so that even if his emotions took over he’d be able to tell her exactly, word for word, that it was over, and that it had been for months.
Martin checked the towel at his waist and then placed his hand on the door. He wasn’t sure what he’d find, but the moment was at hand, and he actually felt good about it.
Now, once and for all, he would be free to date Randi, and to talk to her about what had been going on the last few days. He opened the door slowly, not sure where he would find Celia.
He gave the door a push and raised his eyes. He expected to see Celia, in some form or fashion, but instead it was Randi. His mind exploded with shock and the look on her face answered most of his questions. He stepped forward, reaching out to her, but she stepped back.
“No. Don’t touch me.” Her eyes were showing him nothing but anger. He had a feeling she’d like to slap him, but she didn’t seem the type for physical violence.
“Randi? How did you –? What’s going on?”
Instead of speaking, she moved forward a few steps and held out a piece of paper. “Why don’t you tell me?” She started looking him over, around his neck and chest. She was right. Celia liked to mark a man, but he’d not been with Celia.
Martin took the note, trying to understand what was going on, but as his eyes moved over the paper, he knew. Celia had done this. Well, in a way, he’d done it to himself.
He cursed and wadded the paper, throwing it on the floor. “None of it’s true. I didn’t have sex with Celia. I haven’t touched her in weeks. That letter is nothing but a lie, something she fabricated.”
“It doesn’t look fabricated to me. I just made the bed the two of you slept in and picked up the clothes she ripped from your body, and read the note you left on the dresser. You lying, cheating dog! How dare you string me along like this?”
Martin was wrong about one thing. She was the physical type. His first clue was the flower vase she grabbed from the dresser and hurled in his direction.
The second was the wine bottle, but thankfully her aim wasn’t perfect and neither hit their mark. The flower vase and wine bottle both landed to his right and to his left, thankfully falling to the plush carpeting without breaking.
Before she picked up anything more dangerous he rushed her. He recalled a fight scene in a movie he once read a script for, and reacted with haste.
Catching her by her shoulders, he pushed her down on the bed, pinning her legs down. She tried to push him away and almost broke loose but he wrestled her to the bed, holding her wrists holding her down.
“I suppose you’ll call the cops now," Randi spat.
“What? Of course not. I just didn’t want any flying missiles hitting the mark. I’m not wearing protective gear at the moment. Or maybe you didn’t notice.” Martin could tell her mood was changing, her eyes softened and she stopped fighting.
Her eyes moved from his gaze, down his bare chest, to the towel, to his right leg that was about to escape the towel he was wearing. When she managed to look back, it was with a different frame of mind to say the least. She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh.
“I’m sorry. I don’t normally act like this. I promise I wasn’t trying to hit you, or break anything. I wouldn’t hurt you. This is just making me crazy.” At this point she opened her eyes.
“I know the feeling.” He said still keeping a hold on her wrists. “So, you weren’t trying to hit me? You came pretty close.”
“You’re looking at someone who spent most of her summers playing pitcher, quarterback, and center with five of the toughest, roughshod rednecks you’ve ever met. Trust me, if I wanted to hurt you, I could have.”
Martin nodded, trying not to smile, but it was hard. “I’ll take your word for it. And I deserved most of that and more. I should have never have let this go on longer than a day. At first I thought you were joking. I know I’m not Pitt or Cruise, but I couldn’t believe you didn’t know who I was.”
She didn’t speak, but kept her eyes on him. She didn’t have much of a choice. He slowly moved his right leg from atop her two, because his body was beginning to react in other ways. He shifted his weight.
“Is it safe to let you up? After hearing your last comment I feel kind of vulnerable. I’ve never faced a redneck while I was wearing nothing but a towel.” He tilted his head and raised one brow.
He couldn’t help himself, he smiled, let his eyes trail over her dark hair, and wished he could bend down and kiss her, taste her. He doubted if her mind was on romance at the moment so he didn’t act on his thoughts.
“I never said I was a redneck, and you better not turn loose until you answer my next question. And I want the truth. Did you have sex with Celia?”
Martin shook his head, slowly let go of her hands, and rose from the bed. “No, I didn’t. Somehow Celia found out about the two of us, and she set this little charade in motion. I came to this room to shower, that’s all. She was supposed to be gone. She knows it’s over, and she’s trying to ruin what I have with you out of jealousy.”
Randi sat up, reached for his underwear and pants, balled them up, and tossed them. “Get dressed. It’s hard to stay mad, when you look like -- Just put your clothes on,” she finished rising from the bed and turned her back.
Martin smiled and slid into the boxers and pants. When he was done he tossed the towel on the bed. “Turn around.”
Slowly she did. He was pulling on his shirt, but didn’t bother to button up. He walked to her. “You have to believe me. I didn’t touch her.”
“This is all so confusing. I don’t know what to think. I feel like an idiot. Here I’ve been running off at the mouth about Mr. Taylor . . . How could you let this go on?”
“I didn’t want it to end.”
“I bet you didn’t.” She turned to go. He took her by the wrist, making her turn.
“It’s not like that. I liked being Mike. It was simple. I could be sure you wanted me for me, and not my money.”
“Is that what Celia wants?”
“Maybe.”
“Does she love you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What did she say when you broke it off?” Martin let go of her hand and didn’t speak.
“You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“I don’t need to tell her. She knows.”
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. You need to tell her. You should have already. I recall you saying a few nights ago that you were going to tell her it was over.” Randi crossed her arms. “You wanted her and me both.”
“No I just want you.” Martin started to reach for her again but she shook her head.
“I don’t want to hear it. Did you ever plan on asking her to leave?”
“Yes, I tried last night.”
“You didn’t try very hard.”
“I tried, but she won’t listen.”
“Well, you have plenty of time now--all the time in the world. Matter of fact, the way I see it, she doesn’t need to leave. She can have you, and this fine house, and she won’t have me as completion, because I’m leaving.”
“Randi, don’t go.”
“Why should I stay?”
“Because it’s over between Celia and me. She’ll be out of the house when the party’s over.”
“I doubt that.”
“She will be. I hated to ruin Christmas. It’s just a few more days. If I say anything now it will ruin the party and the kids won’t get a good Christmas. I’m staying downstairs. We’re in separate rooms. Nothing is going on.”
“That’s so big of you,” she said, coming to face him.
“Randi, I know this looks bad.”
“Yes it does. I know I’m not wealthy, but normally when people break up, they move out and move on. They don’t throw stupid parties for their family and pretend that everything is just fine.
“If you really want to prove something, then do it. Tell her it’s over.”
“I will, but I’m not asking her to leave until after the party.”
“Fine. You know Mike, Martin whatever your name is, you are gorgeous as the day is long. You have enough money to make most folks green with envy, but Celia has gotten her claws into you and all but neutered you.
“Make up your mind, and either be a man about it or just sit back and let her lead you around by the . . . nose.”
She started to go and he reached out and grabbed her wrists, pulling her to him. He kissed her . . . hard. Much to his shock, she didn’t fight him, or pull back.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and dug her fingers into his hair. She parted her lips and gave him more than she had before. His desire for her was overwhelming. Her hands slid down his neck to his chest.
The feel of her on his skin was intoxicating, and when she pushed back she was as breathless as he, but there was a look on her face of retribution.
She ran her fingers down his chest to his belt. He knew she was leaving. She stepped back and shook her head. “I just wanted you to get a good taste of what you threw away. Give Celia my best and congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. The two of you deserve each other.”
Chapter 50
Ethan Taylor
Ethan Taylor set his bags down and paid the cabby. He raised a brow at the fair, but didn’t mention it. He didn’t give a tip either. The cabby didn’t even bother to get out of the car to help with his bags. There was no way he was tipping someone that lazy.
He always traveled light and he only had two cases. He bid the cabby a good day and got a weak wave from the man as he turned and left. Ethan walked toward the garage and set down his bags. He wanted to make a surprise entrance for Lillian and was about to reach out to see if the door was locked when he heard voices.
Ethan knew something was amiss from the conversations he had with Lillian. He knew it wouldn’t take the problem long to surface, but he never thought it would surface the moment he arrived. His bags were at his feet and he was about to open the door and enter but stopped when he heard two women talking.
He was never one to eavesdrop, but this time it was hard to stop listening. The first few words had his attention. Instead of opening the door, picking up his bags, and going in, he stopped and hoped he’d heard wrong.
“Mike, Martin, whatever his name is, has been lying to me for days, and you want me to go on working as if nothing has happened?”
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. I have guests arriving, food to be set out, children that needed tending to, and it’s such late notice I’m out of options. If you’ll just agree to stay, I’ll do everything I can to be sure that you don’t have to serve, or even look, at Mr. Taylor.”
“I don’t know if I can. Celia will be gloating, and if she says anything to me I can’t guarantee what I might say.”