Good Girls Don't (13 page)

Lettie frowned. “No one, I’m sure.”

“Well, damn,” Cassie said. “I wasn’t talking about you. Your situation is totally different.”

“How?” Lettie asked. It sure sounded the same.

“You were doing your sister a favor—
and
doing your job. You didn’t know your old high-school flame was going to be on the other end of the phone.”

“He wasn’t a flame; he was a friend. A good friend.”

“If you’d told him about Erika before your date, do you think last night would’ve ended up differently?”

Lettie shrugged. She’d wondered the same thing all morning. “I don’t know.”

Cassie chomped another bite of pickle, chewed and swallowed. “The way I see it, there’s only one thing you can do.”

“Tell him the truth and hope Amy forgives me?”

“Yeah, you’re going to have to tell him before it’s all said and done, but you can’t tell him yet.” Cassie poked her fork in the air with her words. “That’s not what you need to do first, anyway. Hey, you gonna eat that other tomato?”

“Go ahead.” Lettie pushed her plate toward Cass and watched her stab the round fruit and plunk it in her mouth. “Then what do I need to do before telling him the truth? And why should I wait?”

“You have to wait until Amy can get things settled with her friend,” Cassie said matter-of-factly. “The last thing you want to do is let her think she can’t trust you, right?”

Lettie’s head ached. Of course, she didn’t want to jeopardize her relationship with Amy, particularly in the trust arena. “Right.”

“Tell Amy that when Erika gets back, she’ll need to come clean with her uncle. Maybe offer to go with her to talk to him, you know, to soften the blow.”

“Seems like it’d be more of a one-two punch,” Lettie said, pressing her fingers against her throbbing temples. “He’d find out we both lied.”

“He’d see you both made a mistake, but care about him enough to come clean,” Cassie corrected.

Lettie had no doubt he’d forgive Erika; she was his niece. But would he forgive her for her part? And for hiding the truth once she learned he was Erika’s uncle?

“Why shouldn’t I tell him now?” Lettie asked. “After I talk to Amy.”

“You want him, don’t you?”

Like she could deny it. “Yeah, I do, but we’re just getting to know each other again. I don’t know if it’s anything more than—”

“Uh-uh,” Cassie said, waving a pink fingernail toward Lettie’s nose. “The way I look at it, you’ve got a few more days to show him how things could be with the two of you, and Amy and Erika have a few days to figure out how to tell him the truth. Or how to deal with the fact that you’re going to tell him. In the meantime, he’ll see he can’t live without you.”

“But I’m still lying to him.”

“With the intention of telling him the truth as soon as possible,” Cassie added. She placed her empty plate on top of a red plastic carrier, then added Lettie’s leftover salad. “I’ll get this.” Starting toward the trash, Cassie only managed a few steps before a phone in her purse began to ring.

Lettie held her breath and prayed it was Cassie’s personal phone. Or one of her other clients.

Anyone but Bill.

Cass placed the tray on a table and, thank goodness, withdrew a bright blue phone.

Blue. Lettie couldn’t think of a prettier color in the world. Of course, any color but silver would’ve been near perfect.

“National Engineering. This is Cassie. Can I help you?” Cassie held the phone away from her ear as the woman yelled through the receiver.

Rolling her eyes, she brought the phone back and answered, “Yes, ma’am, I’ll be happy to give him the message. Would you like for me to have him return your—”

She shrugged, hit the “end” button.

“What happened?” Lettie asked.

“I’ve got Serial Seth,” Cassie explained, quickly punching in another number. “Evidently, he’s been caught. Again.”

Lettie laughed and watched Cassie call their most notorious client. “Serial Seth” wasn’t a serial killer; he was a serial cheater, and he hired My Alibi as an accomplice to his crimes an average of three times per month.

“Seth, it’s Cassie. You got a call from Tewanda.”

Lettie shook her head. Seth was also known for the wild names of the women he dated, but Tewanda topped the list for most unique.

“Right. She said to tell you her friend Veronica saw you at Provino’s last night, three hundred miles away from the conference you told her you were attending. Veronica also said you had your tongue miles down some bimbo’s throat,” Cassie said, then added, “Her words, Seth. Not mine. Or I should say, her scream, not mine. The woman was pissed.”

Cassie nodded her head as Seth responded, then ended with an “Okay, so we’ve still got one out there, right? Got it. Fine.”

Lettie grinned.

“You’d think he wouldn’t need me for this assignment anymore, wouldn’t you?” Cassie asked. She slid a pink-tipped finger in the top of her shirt to straighten her bra strap.

“But he does?”

“Oh yeah.” Cassie finished fiddling with the strap, then continued her trek toward the trash can with the tray. “He gave
two
of them this alibi, believe it or not.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Cassie said, returning to the table. “He’s a real prize, that one.”

“You ever seen him?”

“No, he books over the phone and pays with a credit card. But he’s got a great voice. If the body matches, he’s a looker. Then again, from what Tewanda said, if she ever sees him again, he won’t be much to look at by the time she’s done.”

Lettie was about to ask what Tewanda said she’d do, but she was halted by another shrill ring, once again from Cassie’s purse. To her dismay, this time Cass withdrew the silver phone. The phone she easily recognized, because she’d had it two days ago.

Frowning, Cassie punched the “send” button and started lying to Bill.

“Integrated Solutions, this is Cassie.”

Bill gazed in admiration at the image on the screen. For two weeks, he’d been at a standstill on the Bentwood campaign, but after one night with Lettie, his brain overflowed with ideas. Damn good ideas, he’d say, eyeing the resulting product of her inspiration. The detail was still rough and required fine-tuning by the graphics department, but the concept was perfect.

A shiny black sedan sat front and center of a modest brick home at dusk on a summer night. With her hip nestled against the hood, a sexy blonde wearing a vibrant red dress lounged seductively. The long, smooth length of one leg was revealed by an intriguing slit to her thigh. She peered at the man, her man, keys in hand, walking toward the car. Electricity bristled off the pair, in their late twenties, the picture of youth and vitality.

They eyed each other with unabashed interest. Tempting. Desiring. Craving.

Bill turned his attention to the caption, hovering in the lower right corner:
Why Wait for a Midlife Crisis?

He’d have the car altered to red, the dress to black, and that’d be that. Bentwood would love it. A new twist on an old idea, precisely what the man said he wanted in this campaign. And precisely what Lettie Campbell’s inspiration had generated.

It’d been pure torture driving to work this morning, with the scent of their lovemaking lingering in his car. On his car. Hell, how long could he go before washing it?

Then again, they could wash it together. He imagined Lettie, her clothes sticking to every generous curve, every subtle indention. Suds sliding between them as they made certain no spots were missed.

They sure hadn’t missed any spots last night.

Bill chuckled, low and deep in his throat. The scent would fade, but that didn’t matter. He’d have it again. Tonight, in fact. And many nights after, if he had his way.

She’d been so responsive to his touch, her body on fire and ready for everything he offered. He leaned back in his chair and remembered finding that hidden spot. The way she’d come so hard, so intensely. She’d trembled all over. And screamed his name.

His
name.

He’d always suspected there’d been a reason he hadn’t given his heart over the past few years, and it didn’t have to do with the teenager living in his home.

Although Erika’s presence kept him from having an overly active sex life, he’d still managed. In fact, he’d experienced several intriguing females, many of whom wanted nothing more than to share his bed, his home and his life forever. But Bill had never been drawn to any of them. Now he realized why, with exact certainty.

He’d never had the one he wanted. The one he’d found, so many years ago, when she’d taken the small town of Sheldon by storm. And somewhere in the process, captured his friendship, and now was capturing his heart.

Last night, they’d confirmed what he’d always suspected. The two of them together were unsurpassed sexually. He was amazed his Camry hadn’t burst into flames from the heat. But tonight, he needed to show her they could have more than exceptional sex. In fact, he planned to remind her that he was the friend she’d connected with so many years ago. To show her they could be everything to each other—friends . . . and lovers.

He’d made another reservation for dinner, bought tickets again for the show. Tonight—come hell or high water—he’d take her on a real date. No matter how much his dick begged to differ. Sure, he knew they’d end up hot and heated before the night was over, but first, he wanted to set her heart on fire.

Then he’d do the same everywhere else.

His envelope icon flashed, and his message box identified new mail from Alvin Bentwood. He’d only sent the rough draft an hour ago, which meant his client’s response was either very good. Or very bad.

Bill opened the e-mail and grinned:
You nailed it. Go with it.—A.B.

A man of few words, but the words he’d typed spoke magnitudes. Two 3-word sentences, and Bill was learning more and more how very much he appreciated the impact of three words.

Particularly when they were uttered from red-glossed, strawberry-flavored lips.

“Make me come.”

“Do me here.”

Yeah, his dick still pumped up the volume when he remembered her commands. But his true goal was to hear three new words from Lettie Campbell. Three words that, he suspected, she’d never said to a man before, but words he totally planned to hear.

She’d loved getting hot and sweaty in his car, but he’d seen her eyes, glistening in the moonlight after they’d made love. The complete trust, the unwavering admiration, the look of absolute awe—toward him. Then, when he’d walked her to the door, he’d seen more.

Lettie let her guard down, and he’d jumped at the opportunity to take advantage. She’d melted against him, losing herself in that intoxicating kiss. And then, as he walked away, he’d heard her sweet sigh of contentment.

Content and happy.

With him.

His phone pierced the silence of his office, and he brought his mind back to the here and now. Back to the ad on his screen, the one that effectively advertised the automobile, while blatantly advertising a night he’d never forget.

He took a deep breath, focused on the scope of the campaign, since Alvin Bentwood could very well be on the other end of that line. While at work, he had to stay centered on his current project—which, at the moment, meant centered on Bentwood Motors. After work, he’d stay focused on his life-long project.

Winning Lettie Campbell.

“Brannon,” he answered.

“Hey, Uncle Bill. How are you?”

“Erika,” he said, smiling. Not Bentwood, and he couldn’t be more pleased. He’d missed her.

His eyes moved to two framed photos on his desk. One of him and Ginny at the beach, with bright blue water licking their ankles and their bare feet nestled firmly in the sand. She, the gorgeous black-haired teen beauty, and he, the grinning, admiring little brother. She looked so happy, so excited, so full of—life.

Sadness squeezed his heart, and he turned his attention to the other photograph. Erika, a near-exact image of the sister he had adored.

Erika was Ginny made over, with that long cascade of ebony silk falling down her back, the pixie face complete with dainty turned-up nose, and those dark eyes, like huge black marbles in the midst of a forest of lashes. Plus her gung-ho attitude, the determination to get exactly what she wanted, truly classified her as Ginny’s heritage.

“The message service said you called. I’m afraid my cell phone doesn’t pick up when I’m inside the conference area. Did you need something?”

“Just wanted to make sure everything was going okay. You learning plenty?” he asked. Damn, he was proud of her.

“Definitely. More than I had anticipated,” she said, her excitement pulsing through every syllable.

“Wonderful. It’s not easy for a young woman to find her place in the world, but you’re doing it, and I couldn’t be more thrilled.”

Silence echoed from the other end.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. But this is the first time you’ve headed out on your own, and I’m really pleased. How many girls snag the first job they apply for right after high school? And you didn’t bother going for slinging fast food. No, indeed. A computer job, from the get-go. Your mama would’ve loved this.”

He looked back at his smiling sister in the photo. In truth, Ginny would’ve turned flips. She always wanted the best for Erika, better than what she’d had. Ginny left Sheldon with Roy Collins after graduating high school and returned pregnant five months later. Erika’s father stuck around long enough to give his daughter a name, then promptly divorced Ginny and left town.

Naturally, Ginny had been afraid her little girl might inherit her not-so-wise genes when it came to the opposite sex. But Erika had been smart in her dating. She’d told Bill numerous times that she wanted to get through college first; then she’d think about finding Mr. Right.

Sure, she dated, but no one special. Not until this new fellow, whom Bill had yet to meet, had she even gone out with a guy more than a few times before moving on. She hadn’t wanted to get too serious, too quick.

With the new fellow, she seemed somewhat serious, as far as Bill could tell. But the fact she left him here while she went to Tampa for her training session spoke volumes. Her education and work ethic still came first.