Burning Down the Spouse Part 13

Frankie heard Jasmine's sharp intake of breath and felt her own leave her lungs in simultaneous surprise.

"Ask Nik. Go ahead and a.s.ssk him!" Marco yelped with a weak struggle against Simon.

Nikos's sigh was ragged when he ran his hand through his thick head of hair.

"s.h.i.t," Simon spewed, clapping Marco on the back. "Just shut up, Marco. Shut up and put your head down so you don't hurl all over my sweater. The last time you did that, I had to throw the frickin' thing out."

Jasmine was instantly at Frankie's side, throwing a hand around her shoulder to lead her out of the restaurant, but Frankie shrugged her off. "Hold up! Did I just hear him right?"

Nikos finally turned to her, his beautiful face full of concern, his response slow. "Unfortunately, yeah. You did."

"Care to explain?"

Jasmine shook her head, giving Nikos a warning look Frankie didn't miss, one very similar to the girlfriend glare but not. "Forget it, honey. Let's just go and forget this ever happened, okay? Who cares what Mitch did? He's an a.s.shole."

Frankie's blood boiled. "No, Jasmine. I care what Mitch did. You know why I care? Because apparently Nikos knew Mitch did something and didn't bother to tell me-which would have been the courteous thing to do, seeing as his friend clearly wants my blood for it. Not to mention the fact that Nikos is friends with someone who could've shown up at the diner at any time to read me the riot act, and I wouldn't know why. Now wouldn't that have been awkward?" she ranted, glaring at Nikos. "So pony up, Antonakas!" she demanded, jabbing a finger into his chest, forgetting all about the fact that he signed her paychecks.

He grabbed at it, pulling her hand into his. "You're right, I should have told you, but you were so-so . . ."

Frankie's eyebrow rose when he stalled. "Pathetic. You can say it. Go ahead. Pathetic and fragile, and you were afraid to tell me whatever this is about for fear I might take a swing at your man parts, too, right?"

Simon barked a laugh from the bar.

Nikos frowned. "No. Yes. No . . . Okay, yes. You were in a bad s.p.a.ce when I hired you, Frankie. Marco was off in Botswana, licking his wounds and fixing underprivileged kids' smiles. Obviously, he didn't lick long enough to make him stop this ridiculous bulls.h.i.t over a woman who doesn't deserve to be the s.h.i.t on his shoe. He wasn't supposed to be back until the spring. Either way, I figured you deserved a little time to adjust to being out in the real world again, get your feet under you, so to speak. But I really was going to tell you . . . given some time."

"Just not until you, Dr. Nikos, thought poor, unstable Frankie was capable of dealing with it without going into an uncontrollable fit of woman rage, right?"

Nikos sighed, yet he still held her hand. "Sort of. No. Look, Marco's had a s.h.i.tty time of it. I'm sorry for his behavior. Tomorrow, when he's sober, he'll feel like an a.s.shole. I promise he'll be begging for your forgiveness."

Frankie shook her head, tugging her hand out of Nikos's, refusing to mourn the loss of the steadfast warmth it brought. "I don't want him to apologize. I want to know what the s.h.i.t he means when he says Mitch stole his wife. Mitch was boinking Bamby With A 'Y' last I heard. How exactly does a Carrie fit into all of this?"

Nikos's eyes hardened for a moment, before softening, going dark with sympathy. "I guess before Bamby, well, there was Carrie-Marco's wife."

She shouldn't be stunned that Mitch had been unfaithful on more than one occasion. But here she was. Stunned. "So Mitch slept with Marco's wife?" As if saying it out loud would give it more clarity.

Nikos nodded his head with a wince. "Twice, I think. No, wait. Three times-"

"Shut uuuup, you dips.h.i.t!" Simon yelled at Nikos in disgust. "Christ, you're a Neanderthal, Nik!"

Huh, of all the coinky-d.i.n.ks.

Nikos was best friends with a man who'd also been, in an indirect way, hurt by Mitch's ever-randy, heat-seeking missile of love.

Frankie couldn't move for the one song that kept running through her brain.

It really was "A Small World After All."

CHAPTER EIGHT.

From the journal of Frankie Bennett: I'm not at all reluctant when I write, Nikos Antonakas is infuriating on more levels than Donkey Kong has! He'd better color himself lucky I've retired my crazy, and that he's so d.a.m.ned gorgeous. Oh, G.o.d. Must. Resist. The. Cute. It threatens my p.i.s.sed-off and, more importantly, my last tenuous hope of keeping myself from begging him to take me heaving-bosomed-slash-rakish-Lord style. That's right. I wrote it.

Frankie didn't bother to look back at the three men, nor did she bat an eye when she made her way to their table, throwing enough cash on it to cover her and Jasmine's bill.

Tears didn't sting her eyes until she hit the sidewalk outside the restaurant, for which she wanted to beat her chest in pride. Jasmine crashed into her, grabbing at her arm to steady herself on heels that sc.r.a.ped against the patches of icy pavement. "Frankie, honey, I'm sorry."

She let her chin fall to her chest, leaning against the lamppost festively wrapped with silver garland. "Is there a v.a.g.i.n.a on the planet that hasn't slept with Mitch?" she mused with dismal humiliation.

Jasmine tightened her scarf around her neck, then squeezed Frankie's hand in her now gloved one. "What upsets you more? The fact that Mitch did this more than once, or the fact that he had you so completely fooled you thought he only did it once?"

Yes. By h.e.l.l, yes. The latter, not the former, was undoubtedly what made her want to yark. "Jesus! If Bamby wasn't the first, how many others do you suppose there were, Jasmine? How could I have been so completely blind?"

Her shoulders lifted when she brushed Frankie's hair from her face, wincing at the brutal wind. "Who knows, Frankie? But ask yourself this-who cares? Do you really care anymore? What Mitch did is done. There's no changing it."

Frankie shook her head, her chest so tight she feared it would explode from the weight of her naivete. "I care, Jasmine. I care because it goes to what a total idiot I am. Nikos and what he knew all along aside, I care that everyone must have thought I was such a blind fool. How many people in Mitch's entourage knew what was going on? People who said they were my friends. People who never once called to see if I was okay after I was tossed out on my a.s.s. What really kills me is while I was slaving away, working my a.s.s off night and day to create new recipes for him, keep his entire world on track for that roving p.e.n.i.s of his, Mitch was off banging who knows how many women! What does that say about my womanly intuition?"

"You're not gonna like this, but I'm going to say it anyway. I think it says that maybe you weren't all that interested in what Mitch did with his free time, honey. I don't mean he should have spent it rediscovering his youth in a barely legal v.a.g.i.n.a. That you'd obviously drifted apart is absolutely no excuse for him to stick his junk where it didn't belong, but I bet you didn't really want to know, or you'd have made it your mission to rekindle your relationship. I think you fell out of love, Francis, and you didn't know it until long after it happened. So you buried yourself in things that kept your mind busy and out of Mitch's line of fire."

A revelation clapped her in the head as sure as thunder had struck. She was dizzy from the knowledge.

Frankie spun around in a circle, pointing her finger to punctuate her realization. "You know what, you're right! I found Mitch less and less appealing in the last years of our marriage. As a matter of fact, I did whatever I could to be anywhere but where he was. If he was coming, I made it a point to be going. My marriage should have ended a long time ago. When I outgrew him. When I no longer needed a father figure. I just didn't know marriage wasn't supposed to be the way ours was. So I let it ride."

"Oh, I get complacency, my friend. I know exactly where you're coming from. It wasn't the money with Ashton. I won't tell you I minded all the luxuries his big bucks brought, that wouldn't be entirely true. But I let Ashton use me as much as I used him-because he was comfortable, and even though I'd fallen out of love, I grew lazy. I knew the score with Ashton until he found a new scorekeeper."

"And look at us now," Frankie commented wryly.

Jasmine smiled into the cold night, her grin filled with mischief. "Yeah. Ain't it a b.i.t.c.h when you find yourself after your life's already half over?"

"I think I'm still in the finding process."

"Well, hurry up. It's d.a.m.ned cold out here." Jasmine rubbed her hands along her arms to emphasize the raw wind blowing down the cheerfully decorated sidewalk.

Yet, discovering she'd subconsciously avoided Mitch, thus totally blocking out any sign of his extracurricular activities when, had she been more interested, she might have been more aware, brought with it the sting of Nikos's admission. "Nikos should have told me."

"Yeah, but he's a man. He wasn't thinking long-term repercussions. Hence teenage pregnancy and the clap."

Frankie giggled at Jasmine's joke. "He sucks."

"I don't either," Nikos denied, hauling a limp, pa.s.sed-out Marco out the restaurant door. "I just wasn't thinking ahead."

"Because you didn't think you had to," Jasmine shot back. "You were procrastinating. Very typical. I'm disappointed."

"Grrrrrr," Simon purred, pulling up the rear behind his friends. "I love it when you're saucy."

The roll of Jasmine's eyes was meant to show Simon her irritation, but there was also something in them that said Simon didn't trouble her nearly as much as she'd have everyone believe.

"I promise to bow and sc.r.a.pe accordingly, but first, we have a problem," Nikos stated.

"Oh, you bet you do, Antonakas," Frankie muttered.

Nikos ignored Frankie's comment. "We need a lift, ladies. I walked from the diner. Simon has no wheels, and Marco isn't going anywhere unless it's to detox. Plus, we can't find his car keys, just the keys to his apartment. Can you give your boss a lift? Marco doesn't live far."

"You mean the boss who potentially could have created more drama for me and my fragile instability?" Frankie asked, all sweetness and light.

He rolled his tongue in his cheek in impatience, but his expression turned sheepish. "Yes. That's the one."

Jasmine sought Frankie with her eyes, sending another girlfriend question.

Frankie nodded her head. "Fine. But I want next Tuesday off to Christmas shop, and there better not be a single joke about kelp wraps and seaweed facials or it's on."

Jasmine dug in her purse, pulling out her car keys, and whispered in Simon's ear, "Catch, quarterback." She jingled the keys before lobbing them at Simon, whose hand shot up, following the direction of the jangle of metal. "You drive, superstar," she said on a giggle.

Simon was one step behind her. "I love a woman who isn't afraid to take risks." He cackled, obviously pleased.

Looping her arm through his, Jasmine led him to the edge of the sidewalk. "You break my CRX, and you'll find out just how far I'm willing to go. I saved for a year to buy it."

"You have a C-Rex? Jesus, they're like a thousand years old."

"So am I," Jasmine snickered. "We're a match made in heaven."

Their voices trailed off, leaving Frankie with Nikos and the boozed-out Marco. "Wait here. I'll get the car, and if he unloads his misery in my backseat, then I want Tuesday and Wednesday off."

Nikos grinned. "You just want Wednesday off because Nails by Noreen's having a twofer special. She told me when she was in for lunch and dropped off flyers."

Frankie chuckled her way into the parking lot. "Perfect. I can have my upper lip waxed and get my nails done. It'll be like Christmas and my birthday." She beeped her car, jumping in and cranking up the heat with a hard shiver.

Pulling up to the curb, she got out to help Nikos get Marco into the backseat. He slumped against the door with a drunken murmur. Getting into the driver's side, she shook her head at Nikos, wrinkling her nose. "He's snockered. Tomorrow's going to totally suck for him."

"Among other things," Nikos agreed as she pulled out of the parking lot. "Look, Frankie. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Marco, but it wasn't to protect him as much as it was to keep one more stress off your plate."

She caught a glimpse of his profile in the dashboard lights, angular, sharp, so s.e.xy, and forced her eyes back to the road. "I appreciate your looking out for me, but I don't need to be treated with kid gloves. Was I surprised Bamby wasn't Mitch's first foray out into the land of the infidel?" Frankie shrugged. "I guess not as much as I thought I'd be once I got used to it. But Marco's your best friend. That's way too close for comfort. I can only imagine what you must have thought when Maxine brought me in for that interview."

He pointed a finger toward the windshield. "Turn left here-this is his apartment complex, and truthfully, I forgot all about Marco until after our notorious interview."

"Because I wowed you with my culinary resume? No, wait. It was my serial-killer glam, right? You know, the crazy hair and baggy clothes?" she teased.

His hand brushed hers, making her pulse thump. "It was just you," he said into the quiet hum of her tires.

Frankie's stomach jolted, stupidly wishing he meant her and not just the nuttiness that had been her on that day. "I'm an awesome first-impression maker."

Nikos's laughter made her tingle. "First building straight ahead. And you definitely made a first impression."

Frankie swung her car into a slot and shifted into park. "Do you need help?"

He turned to her, his eyes a deep black. "Nah. I got him. If you don't want to wait, I can always call Cos to come get me."

She gulped at the thought of her and Nikos in the close confines of her car-alone. All alone. "No, don't wake him. Chef Boyardee's cranky enough. When he's tired, he's the pits. I'll wait."

Nikos slid from the car, popping open the rear door and grunting when he dipped his head inside to pull Marco out and launch him over his shoulder, fireman style. "Be right back." He kicked the door shut with his foot and made his way into the complex, walking with an easy gait despite the fully grown man on his back.

She flipped on the radio while she waited, settling on a station exclusively playing Christmas music. Her head fell to the cushioned headrest as she closed her eyes and pondered the loyalty Nikos showed not only his family but his friend, broken by the end of his marriage. Maybe he wasn't as much like Mitch as she'd first thought. Maybe his magnetic charisma sprang from genuine feeling.

Maybe.

The questions she had about the where and when of Mitch's hooking up with Carrie drifted off when she sank farther down in her jacket, comforted by the strains of "Silent Night" and her Nikos musings.

A hand, callused and warm, flitted across her cheek. "Frankie?"

A small sigh escaped her lips when her name was called, breathy and content. "Hmmm?"

"Do you want me to drive?"

Her eyes popped open, her hands gripped the wheel. "No. I'm okay. How's Marco?"

"Trashed. I put him to bed and left him a note. He'll be fine."

Frankie started the engine as Nikos clicked his seatbelt into place. "Sounds like you've done this a time or two," she said, backing out of the parking s.p.a.ce, fighting to forget Nikos's fingers on her cheek and the tremble it wrought. Composure, composure, composure. Find some, girlie.

"Like I said, he took the breakup pretty hard. He's been boozing it up off and on ever since."

Her nod was of understanding. She knew all too well the acute pain a betrayal of trust created. It hurt your bones to move. For her, it had stripped away every shred of her ident.i.ty. Took her purpose and smashed it to smithereens. "I get it. Some people drink the depression away. Some people, like me people, sleep it away. Whatever it takes to dull the pain."

Nikos's jaw hardened, but she caught a glimpse of his eyes, and they were soft. "That doesn't excuse his behavior, Frankie. He can't keep this up. He'll lose his partnership at the practice. I really thought a few months away from here would help."

"I'm not saying that to excuse how he behaved tonight, Nikos. He behaved badly in a public place, and that's not okay, especially because he's sort of a public servant. Riverbend's a small town. I'm saying it from a place of understanding, from sympathy. I'm also thinking if Maxine can drag me out of bed and make me suck it up, maybe Marco should call her and see if she can help him, too. I know he wasn't a trophy wife, but there must be a male version to the 'suck it up, princess' technique."

His jaw relaxed, and his tone took on a smoky quality. "You're a really good person, Frankie Bennett."

She chuckled with a nervous twitter, pulling into the diner's parking lot to come to a stop. "This from a man who watched my kitchengadgetry meltdown. It takes guts to label me anything but certifiable."

Nikos turned in the pa.s.senger seat to lean into her, placing one arm on the dashboard. His eyes were no longer playful, but serious. "I mean it, Frankie. Marco made a real scene in there tonight with you right in the middle of it. To find a common thread with him because he's in self-pity mode instead of flattening him with a good right hook makes you a decent woman."

Frankie's throat tightened, but she couldn't tear her gaze from his. "Contrary to the impression I created during my last television appearance, I'd never hit anyone."

His smile lit up the interior of her car, the grooves on either side of his mouth deepening. "You kinda suck at accepting compliments."

"Looking the way I do, they're pretty few and far between these days," she quipped, low and shaky, unable to move away from the draw of his luscious lips, the tangy scent of his cologne. Her hormones awakened with a fierce flame in her lower belly.

"I was complimenting your character."

"Which could be the only thing I have left to compliment."

"That's not true," he responded, his voice suddenly a whisper, a whisper that left her mesmerized, transfixed on their close proximity. The car became nothing more than the two inches of s.p.a.ce between them.