Wedding Survivor (10 page)

She gaped down at Olivia's bag—who was calling her?
Who
? Her director? Her agent? Her mom? That's who called Marnie all the time when she had a cell phone, which was why she didn't have a cell phone—wait!
What if it was Vincent Vittorio
?

The thought that she had completely lost her mind flitted across her brain somewhere, but it was too late—Marnie had already reached into Olivia's bag and snatched the phone and flipped it open.

"
Hello ? "
she whispered breathlessly.

There was no response for a long moment. Then Eli drawled, "Well, I guess you two have hit if off real well if you're answering her phone."

"She's not here right now," Marnie whispered.

"Why are you whispering?"

"Because she's inside with her spiritual advisor."

"Ah, for the love of—what are you doing, Marnie?" he demanded in that bossy way he had going on.

"
Sssh
," she cautioned him, forgetting for a moment that no one could hear him but her. "I'm not doing anything! We were going to grab a latte and make a list of chefs for her wedding cake, but she needed to see her spiritual advisor."

"A cake." He said it like he'd never heard of wedding cake before.

"A wedding cake," she clarified in a whisper.

"You need a chef for that?"

"Yes, you need a
cake
chef for that."

"And how are you going to get this chef's cake to Colorado?" he demanded a little testily.

But it was, she had to admit, an excellent question. "I haven't thought through everything yet. But I'll think of a way."

"Maybe you better think again, because we didn't budget for a chef to make a cake."

Okay, now the dude was really beginning to annoy her. Her fruit was too big, she wasn't supposed to drive around with Olivia, they didn't have money for a cake chef… "Well, maybe the budget needs to be rearranged," she said pertly.

There was dead silence on the other end of the line, and then a low, throaty chuckle that swirled up her spine. "I think you and I ought to get together and go over what damage you and Olivia have managed to rack up so far," he said. "Maybe rearrange that budget, as you suggest. I'm going to be out of town for a couple of days—are you free for dinner later or are you having some lettuce leaves with your new best friend Olivia?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't recall seeing a clause in the contract you made me sign that said I couldn't be friends with Olivia."

"Olivia doesn't have friends. She has keepers—don't confuse the two."

Now she was just pissed. He probably thought she wasn't up to snuff for Olivia. Single. Living at home. Frumpy clothes. Well maybe she wasn't up to snuff, but she would be by the time this was over. "Thanks for your advice, Eli, but I'm a big girl. I think I can handle it."

"All right, so handle it. Get rid of the cake. Are you free for dinner?"

"I'll have to check my schedule," Marnie lied. "I'll call you later."

He laughed again. "I think Mom and Dad will let you out. I'll swing by and pick you up around eight… all right?"

"Whatever," she muttered.

"See you," he said and hung up. She made a face at the cell phone and tossed it back inside Olivia's bag. She was thinking that he was awfully good-looking to be so bossy when a moan from the back of the room startled her, she jerked her head up and stared at the beads in the doorway, still swinging slightly from Olivia and Ari's push through.

She heard another moan and felt a tingle in her groin. Slowly, she stood up… could that sound be what she thought it was?
Nah
. No way! Ari was her spiritual advisor!

But when Olivia emerged a half hour later, she was smiling that dreamy smile, and her hair was mussed and her little miniskirt was twisted around.

"You should really check out this new kabbalah," she said sweetly as she picked up her bag. "Come on, I could really use a smoke."

Marnie looked back at the beads swinging in the doorway again, then dumbly followed Olivia out, her jaw practically dragging on the floor.

MARNIE'S folks lived in a standard-issue California bungalow that looked like it had been built circa 1930. It had a tile roof, a back alley and garage, and lots of windows. In the drive were a Buick Regal, a Dodge Spirit van, and the smallest BMW they made.

As Eli climbed out of his Z-250 pickup truck, he absently wondered how many times a teenaged Marnie had climbed out a crankcase window in the middle of the night to terrorize the neighborhood, because he could certainly envision it. If her audition was any indication, it was a fortunate thing her house wasn't a split-level, or she probably would have hurt herself trying to climb down a tree.

He actually smiled at that visual image as he walked up the drive.

A man with silver-gray hair and a little taller than Marnie appeared from the detached garage and stood just below the roof eaves, eyeing Eli curiously. He was holding a rag and polishing something in his hand. "Hello there," he said. "Friend of Marnie's?"

"Yeah… Eli McCain," Eli said, striding forward to shake the man's hand.

"Bob Banks," he said, wiping his hand before taking Eli's. "She's inside with her mother and the book club. Just knock on the door there, and if they don't hear you, go on inside. I'll warn you, it's a gaggle of geese—they can't hear one another speak because they all talk at once."

He said it with a grimace that Eli understood very well. "Thanks for the warning," he said with a grin, and walked on, to the front door.

He hadn't even reached the porch before two women appeared behind the glass storm door to peer out at him. They were wearing tight tank tops and short skirts. Both of them were holding tumblers with a suspicious-looking, tea-colored liquid.

One of them said something to the other, and they both lit up like twin Christmas trees.

The woman with dark red hair flung open the glass storm door. A huge, lumbering mutt came bounding out and launched himself and his nose at Eli's crotch. "Well, come in, stranger!" the woman insisted, while the other woman laughed unabashedly at the dog's sniffing of him. "Bingo! Stop that!"

That laughter, as it turned out, was the call of the wild, for three more women suddenly appeared behind them, all dressed in short pants or tight skirts, and all holding identical tumblers with a drink that was most definitely not tea.

"Don't be afraid," the woman with yellow hair called out. "It's not like we're going to eat you."

That prompted another howl of laughter from all the women. Eli stopped midstride. The woman with the dark red hair instantly stepped outside and smiled at him—Marnie's smile.

"Mrs. Banks?"

"How could you tell? Come on in, Eli, and don't mind us. We're just having a little fun. It's not often we get such a handsome man at the door, you know. Girls, this is Eli.

Now Eli, don't call me Mrs. Banks, that makes me sound so old! I'm Carol, just call me Carol. And this is Linda, she lives next door and has for thirty years, and that's Alicia who lives in the cute blue house right over there, and Bev who lives behind me—you can't see her house, but if you come in, we'll show you her pool, and last but not least, that's Diane, who moved into the brown ranch house four years ago. We weren't looking to expand our group, but we let her in the day she showed up with a margarita machine."

The five of them howled again.

Eli really wished he'd had the presence of mind to have Marnie meet him somewhere. "Ah… pleasure to meet you, ladies," he said uncertainly. "Is Marnie in there anywhere?" he asked, gesturing to the house. "Or did you eat her?"

The women looked at one another for a moment of surprise, then laughed uproariously again. "Bring him in here, Carol!" one of them demanded. "Let us play with him a little before Marnie gets him!" And before Eli could react, he was being ushered inside to a front room with a full view of the street as the dog pranced excitedly along with them.

In the room was a round card table littered with full ashtrays, coasters, a couple of overstuffed handbags, and a couple of paperbacks. The women all took a seat around the table—Eli had the impression they took the same seats each time they were together. Mrs. Banks insisted he take her seat while she went to fetch Marnie. The dog, Bingo, collapsed next to Eli's boot with a grunt.

Sitting there with four middle-aged women giggling at him made Eli more uncomfortable than a visit to a doctor. He tried not to squirm in his seat, but they just kept watching him. And giggling. And two of them had assumed provocative poses, so that their cleavage was clearly displayed to him.

"Bev, is there anymore Wahoo left?" one of them asked sweetly. "Maybe our guest would like a Wahoo."

"I don't know, sugar, but I'll look," Bev said, and hopped up, grabbed the empty pitcher from the table, and swished out of the dining room in her denim miniskirt.

"So!" the one named Alicia said. "Are you and Marnie dating?"

"Ah, no," he quickly corrected her. "No, we're not. Just a business arrangement."

"Oh!" she said brightly. "Then are you available?"

"Alicia!" the one named Linda said, slapping Alicia's shoulder. "You know if there are any leftovers, I get them."

Eli could feel the heat building under his collar.

"Oh don't worry, hon. We're not going to do anything that you wouldn't beg us to do," she said slyly. "So what sort of business are you in?"

He forced a smile. "It's boring."

"Guess who Marnie's friends with," Alicia said, leaning across the table so that her cleavage was even more clearly displayed. "Olivia Dagwood, the actress."

"Is she?"

"Have you seen her movies?" the third one, Diane asked. "I loved
The Dane
, but I thought she was so lame in
The Goodnight Girl"

"Diane,
please
!" Alicia cried to the ceiling. "She was brilliant in
The Goodnight Girl
! She got a friggin' Golden Globe for it, hello!"

"Who cares about a Golden Globe? It's the Oscar that counts, and she didn't get the nomination there, did she?" Diane said. "So what does that tell you? Her acting sucked."

"I liked it!" Bev shouted from the kitchen. "I'll tell you who sucked in that movie, and that was that English guy, Damian Reese. He's so faggy he makes my skin crawl."