Drive Me Wild. Gwynne Forster
Читать онлайн книгу.
a frown on his face.
“I’d remember if we had,” Justin said.
“I thought you were her chauffeur, not her bodyguard.”
Justin glared down at the man. “I’m both, so don’t bother trying to intimidate her unless you want to go out head first.” He opened the door. “After you, Mr. Strags.” He followed the man inside. “Mr. Strags forgot something, ma’am. He’ll tell you what it was.”
She sat up straight and laid back her shoulders. “What did you forget, Miles?”
Miles forced a smile. “I didn’t want any unpleasantness between us, so I came back to straighten things out. You know how fond I was of Heddy—” he cleared his throat “—and you, too, of course—and I don’t believe in letting misunderstandings simmer.”
Justin nearly laughed when she leaned back in her chair, made a pyramid of her fingers and narrowed her eyes. “What did I misunderstand?”
“I have your interest at heart, and I don’t think you realize that.”
“I know very well where your interests lie, Miles. Please excuse me, I have a lot of things to get through today.” She looked at Justin. “Would you please see him to the elevator?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Justin left the building with Miles Strags and walked as far as the corner with the man before Miles spoke. “If you’re after her money, forget it. It will never happen.” With those words, Miles strutted across the street barely missing being struck by a taxi.
Now we know where we stand. Miles Strags is after Gina and the Lloyd estate. Hmm. Knowledge is power, and I intend to learn everything possible about that obsequious bastard, including his rights as estate executor.
Justin strode down Madison Avenue until he reached an Italian restaurant operated by a man with whom he occasionally enjoyed a fencing match. The quaint restaurant reeked with the smell of seafood, garlic and tomato sauce. He’d always liked the simplicity of the red-and-white and green-and-white checkered tablecloths on tables that were hosts to Chianti bottles holding lighted candles.
“Where’s Tony?” he asked the waiter. “Tell him J.L. is here.”
Smiling broadly, the handsome restaurant owner approached Justin with open arms. “Hey, man. You’ve been scarce. What’s up?”
“I need a carry out. Lasagna, a nice mesclun salad and a small bottle of red wine.”
“You taking this to a woman, I gather.” Justin nodded. “Trust me, friend, I’ll make it nice for you.”
Meal in hand, Justin hurried back two blocks to Gina’s office. “Let’s see what we have here,” he said, eager to see delight in her eyes. He opened the package and found a large white napkin, a heavy, white, plastic plate and transparent plastic dinnerware. So far, so good. He opened the wine, poured a glass for her, said, “bon appetit” and went back to his desk.
He looked up to see her rim her lips with the tip of her tongue and inhale deeply. “Justin, if it wouldn’t be in poor taste, I’d walk over there and hug you,” she said, and savored the first bite of what he knew was the best lasagna in town.
“You may think it would be in bad taste,” he said under his breath. Aloud he said, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. What time are the movers going to your place tomorrow?”
“Nine o’clock. You can have the day off.”
“You sure?” He needed the time because he’d done nothing on his project, and he had to sort out the information he’d collected so far. Once he did that, he’d know what he needed from Gina. He had already decided not to mention her name or the Lloyd estate.
“I’d appreciate the time,” he told her. It wouldn’t hurt to be away from her for at least one day, either. In the short time he’d known her, he’d already gotten used to her, and it occurred to him that her calming presence did wonders for him. The only stress she generated had to do with his libido, and he didn’t have much hope of that getting better.
“How do you go home?” Justin asked her at five o’clock when they closed the office.
“I usually take the bus up to Forty-second Street and change to the Amsterdam Avenue bus. It takes me right to my door.” When he stared down at her with an expression of disbelief, she felt uncomfortable, almost as if Miles were censoring her. “What is it, Justin?”
His shrug didn’t fool her. “I don’t know. In this traffic, it’ll take you almost an hour to get home, and you may have to stand all the way.” He paused and looked into the distance. “Gina, you have to get used to taking a taxi when you’re by yourself. Someone could kidnap you. You can afford a twenty-five dollar cab ride.”
Without thinking, she put her hand on his arm. “I know, Justin, but it’s not easy reordering my life. I’m sophisticated in many ways, and I like to be independent, but I’m used to a simple life, and I like it. I never asked for all of this money, but I’m delighted that I can use Heddy’s money for the betterment of others. But you’re right. I should take a taxi.” A grin floated over her face. “But mainly because my shoes are too tight.”
She laughed aloud at the look of amazement on his face. “See you day after tomorrow.”
“Right,” he said, “and don’t forget we pick up the car that afternoon.”
“I’ll remember. You have a good day tomorrow.” He hailed a cruising taxi, opened the door for her, and when she got in, he closed it and walked on up the street. “This won’t do,” she said aloud.
“What’s that, ma’am?” the driver asked.
“Just thinking aloud.” She gave him the address, sat back and mused over the day. When she got home, Gina prepared to spend her last night as a middle-class woman. She wasn’t going to stress about her new neighbors or wonder about Heddy’s reason for insisting that she live in the building for at least three years. After all, Heddy hadn’t spent much time with those neighbors, at least not in the last six years of her life. She pinched her arm. Yes, she was alive and sane, and her new life was real.
At home, she phoned her aunt Elsa. “Auntie, I’m moving tomorrow, and here’s my new address and phone number. As soon as you can, come to see me, we’ll shop for some really nice fabrics.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing where you live, but I can’t get up there right away. I have a backlog of orders, and you know I don’t turn my work in late. How you making out?” She told her aunt what she had accomplished so far.
“Looks to me as if you either got a prize in that chauffeur or you made the mistake of a lifetime.”
Chills coursed through her veins. “What do you mean by that, Auntie?”
“So far, he’s a blessing, and it looks as if he’s a good man, though looks can be deceiving. He may be the kinda man you fall for, and if you do, you’ll rue the day. Never go for a man who works under or over you, and for goodness’ sake, don’t go to bed with him. If you do, you gotta swing to their rhythm and play the hand that they deal.”
“But, Auntie, I have this strange feeling that his role in my life was preordained. If you were around us, you’d probably think the same. We don’t seem to be controlling this.”
“No? Well, child, you’d better control it. Human beings are not saints, so no matter how good he is or what you think of him, remember that every cowboy wears spurs on his boots, and only one perfect man ever walked this earth. You get my meaning?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be careful,” she said, but if she didn’t stop fantasizing about the man, she wouldn’t want to be careful. She still felt his arms around her and the gentle caress of his fingers when they stroked her shoulder.
She kicked the carpet until her toe ached. If he