Bouquet of Lies Part 9

"Open up!"

He opened the door and she barged in without invitation.

"Surprise!"

"Uh."

"Uh, what? Why am I here? Got my car back." With the door wide open, she motioned toward the street. He saw the Spyder at the curb. "Paid the impound fees. So see. Just what did you accomplish?"

"I knew you'd get your car." He closed the door and headed for the kitchen.

She followed. "Smells good. What are you cooking?"

"A pork chop." He turned the heat off. It was cooked.

"I came for our date."

Was she kidding? He put the chop on a plate.

"Oh, that's right. We wait for Wednesday next week. Lunch, during the day. I might turn into a zombie at night."

"What?"

She crossed her arms. "Want to know how I found you?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact."

"It'll cost you a pork chop."

He stared at her. She motioned at the refrigerator with her head.

He grabbed another chop and started the fire under the skillet again. "I'm not a fancy chef."

"Neither am I."

He eyed the salad. It was big enough for two. Maybe they needed a baked potato. He took two from a plastic sack and began scrubbing them.

"Now we're cooking," she said.

He stabbed the potatoes with a knife.

"I hope those aren't voodoo potatoes."

"Huh?" He whipped around, the knife in his hand up in the air like some murderous fiend in a horror movie.

She put up her hands. "Whoa. Settle down there, Dan-the-Man." She took a step back.

He looked at the knife and put it down. "That was not how it looked." He shoved the potatoes in the microwave and set it for four minutes. They were small potatoes.

"Good. Because you're as uptight as my sister and I'm just trying to break the ice."

"You mean my b.a.l.l.s."

She laughed. "That, too, I guess."

He couldn't decide if she was mad or not. She was a little edgy perhaps.

He watched her open cabinets until she found where he kept the dishes. She grabbed a plate for herself and then hunted for silverware.

"Okay. Since that pork chop is on its way, I'll tell you. I waited by the station until you finished your shift. I saw you go in. I waited until you came out. Then I followed you home."

"I've been home for half an hour. What took you so long to come to the door?"

"Adrenaline. I needed to calm down. I'm calm now. Can't you tell?"

"I'm not sure."

She divvied up the salad then grabbed dressing from the fridge. "Well, rest a.s.sured. I needed a test run before I decided whether or not to keep our date."

She fell silent. He could see she was thinking and waited for her to continue.

"Now here's the thing. That left turn I made was a little close for comfort. And I was sort of driving like a maniac today. And I should have registered my car. So there. Now you know something about me. I can admit when I'm wrong."

"Impressive."

"That better not be sarcasm, because I'm being genuine here. Most people don't admit when they're wrong. You know that, don't you?"

"I never thought about it."

He watched her get the b.u.t.ter and sour cream and then clear newspapers from the table so they both had room. She moved quickly, not overly concerned with how neat the papers looked or how the b.u.t.ter was placed. Her methods were nothing like Sally's.

He plopped the pork chop onto her plate.

She squeezed the potatoes and declared them done. Her eyes fell on the open bottle of Cabernet and she poured each of them a gla.s.s.

He took hers away before she even sat down.

"Just testing." She gave him a sly smile.

They sat together and he lowered his eyes while he said a silent prayer. When he was done he saw that she was watching him.

"So I've made my decision," she said. "Next Wednesday is on. And you're coming to my costume party. There will be alcohol and you are not going to go around asking for ID. Everyone, mostly, will be over twenty-one anyway."

"You aren't."

"I'm like three months away. Do I need to postpone the party?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm kidding. But not about you being there. You need some fun in your life. You scowl too much."

Dan pressed his lips together to stifle a grin. He did scowl too much. Ever since Sally had died. But now that he'd met Lacey he had a feeling that was about to change.

He caught his breath. Wait a minute! They were going on one date. One.

"And if things get crazy, you might even get to arrest someone. Would that make you smile?" She tasted the chop. "Mmm. Master chef. This pork chop is good. Sure would go great with a nice gla.s.s of red wine."

She walked two fingers across the table toward his gla.s.s. He slapped her hand away and she laughed.

He took a sip of the Cabernet and peered at her. He had never met someone quite like Lacey. Beautiful, spoiled, rich, and a good sport.

"I've never met a cop like you," she said.

Their thoughts were running parallel. He smiled inwardly. "Had a lot of run-ins with the law, have you? I guess with the way you drive-"

"No . . ." She made a face of bogus disgust.

"You mean someone charming and devilishly handsome who puts mushrooms in the salad?" He was starting to feel relaxed around her.

Okay, this was not good. He did not need a party girl in his life. Not that this girl would seriously allow him into her life in any meaningful way.

Maintain your distance. Maintain.

"Charming? You think you're charming?" She pointed her fork at him. "The jury's still out on that one. No, I mean someone so young, smoking hot, and uptight."

He felt his face grow warm. Smoking hot?

"You know who you remind me of? Xavier Samuel with really short hair."

"Who?"

She laughed again. "Okay. Time for you to get out more. And we'll start with my party this Sat.u.r.day night."

"I don't think-"

"Good. Don't think. Just do. If you don't show up, I'll send my man Henry to look for you."

"Your man?"

"Our chauffeur."

She was hard to resist. Hard to say no to. Especially with those s.e.xy eyes focused on him . . .

"I'll take your silence as a yes."

What could it hurt? A party. There'd be lots of people. It would really make his lie to his aunt and uncle the truth. He would be sharing her with a lot of people though.

He frowned. Share her? He suddenly realized he wanted to go and he didn't like the idea of lots of people around.

"Okay," he said.

"That's my little Xavier."

"Only don't call me Xavier."

"Okay, Dan-the-Man."

His stomach muscles tightened. What happened to maintain his distance? Maintain.

Ten.

DRESSED IN FISHNETS, a low-cut red leotard, royal-blue tails, and red, white and blue top hat, Lacey sat on her father's bed facing the door. The costume party was picking up momentum and before she joined her guests in the ballroom she had one last thing to do. Invite Daddy to the ball.

He wouldn't come, but it would annoy him that she wasted his time asking. She hadn't so much as pa.s.sed him in the house in days. It was time for an encounter.

Voices carried from down the hall and she leaned forward to listen.

"I can't believe you let her do this." That was Edward.

"It's her house, too. I can't stop her." That was her father.

"Tell her no."

"I did. You see where it got me."

"Slow down. I want to talk to you."

"Make it snappy. I have a meeting in half an hour and I have to pack. I fly out tomorrow morning."

"What? Now? Are you out of your mind?"

"What's wrong with now?"

"You know what's wrong!" Edward voice was tinged with fear.

"That? You should have thought-"

"Don't lecture me."

"Actions have consequences," Harper lectured. Lacey smiled.

"What's done is done. I can't unring the bell."