Not One Clue_ A Mystery - Lois Greiman [82]
“Jeen’s mom thought we should have swans.”
“Are you marrying his mom, too?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember. I just … I just want to be married.”
I stifled my wince and didn’t mention the fact that evidence was, in fact, quite good that she may have lost her mind if that was the case. “To Solberg, right?”
She gave me a look.
“Right,” I said. “Of course.”
“But I want to make Jeen happy.”
“Happy!” I said, and swallowed a chuckle. “You’re the Amazon Queen. You can’t help but make him happy.”
“That’s just the thing. I’m not the Amazon Queen, Mac. I’m not any of the things people think I am.”
“Solberg’s not people,” I said. She gave me a scowl, so I hurried on. “Of course you’re not some half-naked jungle girl, Elaine. You’re better than that. You’re Brainy Laney Butterfield, the smartest, sweetest, most beautiful woman in the world. I’m sure Solberg would be tickled pink if you stood up in front of a justice of the peace wearing a gunnysack and eating a radish.”
“I don’t like radishes,” she said, and pressed her knuckles against her mouth.
“Laney!” I said, and took her hand. “What is it?”
“My life’s a mess. And now I’ve made your life a mess, too.”
“What are you talking about? My life has always been a mess.”
“No, it—”
“Oh, don’t even lie!” I said. “My upstairs carpet is blue. Blue!”
She laughed a little and I smiled, feeling better. “You’re getting married soon,” I said. “For better or worse. Swans or no swans.”
She nodded, then winced a little. “But what about you?”
I looked at her askance. “What about me what?”
“We’ve been a pair for so long. And I always thought you’d get married first.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I mean, I thought you’d find the right guy and live happily ever after so I wouldn’t have to worry about you.”
“Happily ever—”
“Well, you know, grouchily ever after, or whatever. I just thought you’d be … settled.”
“Settled.”
“And now not only are you unsettled, you’ve got some nut job breaking into your cute little house.”
I glanced around. “It is kind of cute, isn’t it? When you can see the floor. Blue,” I mused.
“Get over it.”
I shook my head. “Are you saying you’re worried about me?”
“Of course I’m worried about you.” Tears welled in her eyes again. “You’re the best person I know.”
I stared at her an instant, then glanced over my shoulder before turning back to her. “Me?”
“You know it’s true.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No. I … Oh crap,” she said, and rubbed her eyes with her right hand. It was the harshest language I had heard exit Laney’s mouth in years. “And now I can’t even tell when you’re kidding.”
“You’re just tired. Lots of people don’t think I’m funny when they’re tired.”
“Or any other time.
“I’ve hired you a bodyguard.”
It took a moment for me to realize what she said, at which time I canted my head and asked for clarification.
“I can’t stand knowing you’re in danger, Mac. I can’t. I mean, I have a thousand things going on in my head and I can’t—”
“You hired a bodyguard?”
She took a deep, calming breath. “Yes.”
“For me.”
“Yes.”
“When you’re the star.”
“I’m not a star, Mac. I’m just a … Just a woman on my fourteenth minute of fame.”
“Laney, you’re one in a million. You’ve been a star since the day you were born. Since the second you were conceived. Since—”
“Please accept a bodyguard.”
I stood there staring at her, mouth open. “I had sex for the first time in years,” I said.
“I realize—”
I held up my hand. “In fact, I had sex for the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth time in years. You think I want that to stop now?”
“He doesn’t have to accompany you into the bedroom.”
“Did I say we did it in the bedroom?”
She stared at me for a minute, then, “Ick?” she said.
“I hope you used some heavy-duty cleaner on the kitchen counter.”
“Baking soda,” she said. “It’s environmentally friendly.”
“You might want to dine in your room from now on, then,” I said, and she laughed. I squeezed her hand. “I don’t want a bodyguard, Laney.”
“I ordered a really cute one.”
“Is that the word you used when you called the agency?”
“Yes. I said I wanted a cute buff one.”
“Seriously?