her right now, she’d drop-kick him into the next century. If he hadn’t done his voodoo act on Tina, then the Marconis would have a real honest-to-God secretary to deal with Grace. But then, Jo thought wildly as Grace rattled on and on and on, maybe that’s why Tina quit. Maybe it hadn’t had anything to do with Cash’s mysterious sexual hypnotism powers.
Something to consider.
Heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs and Jo shifted her gaze to the doorway between the kitchen and living room. It sounded as if trained elephants were marching on parade. But it was worse than elephants.
It was a giant rat.
Jeff Hendricks stormed down the last of the stairs, across the room, and out the front door like a man on a mission. Jo ran across the kitchen, still clutching the receiver of the ancient blue wall phone to her ear. The coiled blue cord brought her up short with a jolt strong enough to wrench her neck, just before the doorway. But she was close enough to see Sam, right behind Jeff, and she didn’t look good, either. Temper vibrated allaround her like a downed electrical wire jumping and skittering against the street.
Grace was still talking, but Jo had stopped listening. It wasn’t only temper chasing her younger sister. There was something else. Something deeper. Something
big
.
Turning, she walked back across the kitchen, fighting free of the twisted blue cord as it tried to wrap itself around her.
“Right, Grace,” she interrupted the older woman firmly. “I know. Don’t worry. Monday. We’ll be there.”
She hung up, despite the fact that the older woman was still talking. She’d pay for that come Monday, but right now, it didn’t seem important.
“I can’t believe this,” Sam was saying, standing on the threshold and facing her past. “After nine years, you’re still reacting in the same way? You just walk away?”
“Why the hell do you care?” Jeff shot back.
Jo moved quietly into the living room, listening openly. The word “secret” didn’t exist in the Marconi universe.
“You’re
engaged
,” Sam shouted, throwing both hands high and wide before letting them slap down against her sides. She couldn’t even believe this. She’d been feeling like the scarlet letter–bearer for
dating
, for God’s sake, and her
husband
was engaged?
Her brain spinning, she felt the world lurch crazily to one side, then right itself when Jeff started talking again. He stood at the bottom of the front steps and looked up at her. “We’ve been ‘divorced’ for nine years.”
“Yeah,” she argued, knowing that it made no sense,“but now I find out we’re still married and you’re engaged to somebody else all in the same day. Excuse me for needing a minute or two to process.”
He laughed, looked around the empty yard as if checking to make sure they were still alone before saying, “You’re amazing. You don’t want to be married to me and you’re pissed that somebody else
does
.”
Maybe.
Maybe that’s what she was feeling. But it was hard to tell. There were too many emotions crashing around inside her like out-of-control bumper cars. God. She was married. Her daughter was no more than ten miles from her house. And her
husband
was engaged. No doubt to a Miss High Society Perfection 2004.
He had his career, a nice life, and their child.
What did Sam have?
New paintbrushes?
“Dammit.”
“Good answer.”
She scowled at him. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Naturally. Call me when you’re ready to sign the papers.”
He turned for the street and his black Expedition, parked at the curb. She stopped him cold with one sentence.
“I’m not signing, Jeff. Not until we work something out about Emma.”
He stopped and looked back at her over his shoulder. His dark blue eyes shone with some emotion she didn’t even want to identify. His jaw worked and the muscle there twitched violently a couple of times. This was costing him. But she couldn’t seem to care.
“I’ll call
David LaRochelle
Walter Wangerin Jr.
James Axler
Yann Martel
Ian Irvine
Cory Putman Oakes
Ted Krever
Marcus Johnson
T.A. Foster
Lee Goldberg