Not One Clue_ A Mystery - Lois Greiman [51]
“Then give it to him,” I said.
“And how the hell am I going to do that? I work fulltime. My apartment’s the size of your …” He waved wildly. “… shoe. And …” He laughed. “… I just shot someone.”
“Not to mention the fact that you’re kind of whiny.”
“Jesus, woman!” he said, turning toward me, aghast. “Do you drive everyone this crazy?”
I thought about avoiding that question, but the answer seemed so obvious. “I believe I do.”
He stared at me for several seconds before his mouth quirked up a little. “Want a ready-made family?” he asked.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, and he laughed.
18
The good thing about dating an ex is that they already know you’re a moron.
—Donald Archer (Mac)—a
man who has never been
particularly adept in social
situations
Later that afternoon, I sat alone in my diminutive kitchen. Laney and the Geekster had gone to extinguish yet another wedding fire. Elaine had, in fact, passed up the opportunity to attend the afterparty for Jungle Heat to do so. It wasn’t exactly the norm for a television spin-off to have such an event, but this party was expected to be quite a blowout, mixing financiers, minor celebrities, and shining stars into one intoxicating brew. Laney, however, had opted to see to her wedding instead. Sometimes I don’t know where I went wrong.
As for me, I had expected to put in a full day at the office, but my last two clients canceled, which meant I had time to go for a run … or to eat a supper rich in saturated fat and fall into a lipid-induced coma. After some nasty internal warfare, I lost my mind and chose running, but as I slipped out of my business clothes, I noticed my bridesmaid dress. It was a thing of rare beauty. Made of a coppery fabric that caressed every curve, it was the equal to anything seen on the red carpet. In fact, it would look great at the Jungle Heat party, the party where Laney’s peers would be gathered, where people like Colin Farrell and Gerard Butler might well stroll past in tuxedos while sipping intoxicating beverages. There was a rumor circulating around town that Colin had gotten smashed at the last shindig and danced the jitterbug wearing nothing but a cummerbund.
My imagination reared like a wild stallion, but I reined it down because, obviously, Colin wasn’t the reason I was interested in Heat’s party at all. It was because Laney had been receiving threatening mail and it was conceivable that the author of that mail would be commingling with the likes of Colin Farrell and Gerard Butler, who would stroll past in tuxedos while sipping …
I closed my eyes and tossed my skirt on the bed. Insanity. That’s what it was. I was not going to crash some party just because there was a mermaid dress hanging on the back of my closet door. I was more mature than that. Besides, I didn’t have any passes … and after a fairly exhaustive search, I realized Laney must have taken hers with her. Which was just as well. I was going to go for a run, get to bed early, and never tell Elaine I had entertained any idiotic thoughts to the contrary.
I was set on that course for all of thirty-four seconds, but the temptation of seeing Colin in nothing but a cummerbund and a burr was more than I could resist.
“Mac?” I was gripping the receiver in both hands.
“Christina?” said the voice on the other end of the line.
I closed my eyes for a minute and wondered if I was out of my mind. “Yeah. How are you doing?” I asked. I had met Donald Archer while investigating a murder. He was his father’s heir apparent and would someday inherit a boot manufacturing company called Ironwear. Originally I had thought he might also be a murderer. Now I believed him to be a genuinely nice person. Does it seem odd that a licensed psychologist can’t tell the difference?
“What’s up?” he asked.
I cleared my throat and reminded myself that although Mac was extremely wealthy and undeniably sweet, he had always been more interested in me than I was in him; I had no right to play with his emotions, but I needed a favor and told him as much.
He