The Other Side - J. D. Robb [152]
“I know I should claim the credit, but I’ll tell you the truth; I searched for you on the Internet. You are the only Maribelle Joy Biderman in the whole wide world . . . as my son would say.”
She sat up straight. “I’m listed on the Internet that way . . . by that name?”
He laughed. “Only in the real official places like birth records, Columbia’s list of graduates, and—”
“How’d you know I graduated from Columbia? That’s not on the Internet, is it?”
“Company profile says you got your MBA there . . . and your mother told me. Every time I saw her, she’d brag about it like there was no one smart enough to be with you.”
“And now you want to prove her wrong, huh?”
She didn’t need the stunned silence on the other end of the line to realize that what she’d just said . . . what had slipped from her lips so easily, so thoughtlessly, so naturally was exactly the sort of statement she’d been making for years to keep most people at bay; to isolate herself just as her mother said . . . but why?
She liked Ryan. Naturally, he wasn’t the first man to ask her out, nor was he the first to ask from someplace other than the more clinical let’s-scratch-our-itch arena that she generally preferred. . . . No, come to think of it, she didn’t prefer it; she simply felt safer and less vulnerable there.
“I’m sorry. I’m . . . That was rude. I—”
“Hey. No. I get it.” He laughed good-naturedly. “You’re a beautiful, successful woman. You must have guys hitting on you all the time. It’s smart to keep your defenses up, but—”
“No. It isn’t. And if you’re still offering, I’d be pleased to go out with you Saturday night. Very pleased.”
She heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Good. I’m glad.”
“I’m . . . I’m here late most evenings, but in case Jimmy gets sick or ...”
“I change my mind?” he finished for her. “It ain’t gonna happen, Maribelle Joy. I’ve wanted time alone with you since I first saw you on the other side of the fence. So, as you were saying . . . barring a catastrophe with my son and the end of the world . . . ?”
Oh yes, she liked him very much. “I was just going to say that this number will patch you through to my cell phone anytime.”
She heard him draw a surprised breath and pressed three fingers firmly against her lips to keep from laughing out loud.
“I still don’t get your cell number?”
“Maybe you need to work a little harder for it,” she said in a remarkably seductive voice that she hadn’t even known she owned. She bit down on her lower lip and grinned so hard her face felt stretched beyond endurance. His chuckle made her giggle like an idiot, and for the first time in her life she didn’t mind feeling like one.
“Maybe I do. And that’s okay. I don’t mind working hard for the things I think are worth it.”
Exactly four days, twenty-two hours, and seventeen minutes later, she was still smiling when she turned the key in the lock at Hedbo House and felt it give. It was early, barely seven, but she needed every ray of daylight she could get.
“Hello? Anybody home?” Immediately she was assaulted with the scents of apple pies, lilies, and baby powder. She watched the gradual manipulation of light and shadow reconfigure itself until the familiar images of her mother and her two aunts presented themselves before her.
“Good morning, darling. You’re very early”—Adeline tipped her head and studied her for a moment—“and very happy this morning. Has something happened? Have you figured it out?”
“Figured what out?”
“What we’ve lost?”
“Oh. No. But don’t worry, we will. We have two weeks to figure it out and one to tear the house down to meet the Smoothie Hut contract, and I intend to.” She spoke with determination to all of them, but it was obvious they’d been searching too long to feel her optimism. “Come on now. Think positive.”
Odelia smiled kindly. “I have pies in the oven, dear. May I think positively in the kitchen?”
She didn’t wait for permission, and M.J.’s eyes narrowed with purpose as