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She laughed. “Unconventional maybe. Smart even. But not crazy.”
“It is crazy. And it won’t work. You heard him yesterday—his mind is made up.”
“People can change their minds. Even men.”
“Not men like him.”
“I guess you’re an expert on change, Mr. How-Many-Girlfriends-Is-It-This-Week?”
He stuck out his lower lip. “I have every intention of being faithful, as soon as I find the right woman.”
“So you’re saying the right woman will convince you to change your tomcat ways?”
He nodded. “When I’ve found the right woman, I won’t need anyone else.”
She laughed. “That’s what I love about you, you’re such a romantic.”
His expression relaxed. “Speak for yourself, Miss I-Want-To-Be-Swept-Away-By-A-Knight-In-Shining-Armor.”
“That’s a pirate. I want to be swept away by a pirate.”
“Whatever. I don’t think Mitch Landry has ever been within sight of a sailing ship.”
“Don’t be so sure. My point is, if the right woman can make you mend your ways, then the right woman can make Mitch Landry change his mind about closing Just 4 Play.”
“And you think you’re the right woman?”
“Let’s just say I’m a woman who always gets her man.”
“Hmm. Well, if I were a betting man, I’d put my money on the man getting you. I think you’re in over your head this time, Jilly girl.”
She shook her head and walked away, ignoring the doubts nudging at her. For a moment with Mitch, she’d almost forgotten the rules of the game. Rules she’d established. Fun was the object. A mutually satisfying, sensual experience. A good time had by all. No need for messy complications.
Mitch’s talk of “connections” and “life-changing experiences” had shaken her. Sure, those things were for some people, but not for her. What did Mitch know? Maybe he thought he’d seen some secret longing in her eyes, but he was wrong. She was attracted to his body. To his mind, even. But that was as far it went. Anything else was just his imagination.
5
MITCH SAT IN HIS CAR, trying to calm nerves that felt as if they’d been filed with sandpaper, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so vulnerable and out of control, so exposed while fully clothed, or so incredibly aroused.
It was more than being caught off guard and tied up. More than the props Jill had used in her little “product demonstration,” more even than the admitted excitement of knowing that at any moment, they might be discovered.
No, something about Jill herself made his temperature rise and his mind lose track of where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. Something in the contrast between her innocent looks and her seductive words fired every synapse and sent common sense running for cover. The way she made him feel was based on instinct, not reason. The thought that anyone could reduce him to that sent a new tremor through him.
“Damn it, this is crazy!” He hit the steering wheel hard with the heel of his hand. He wasn’t some pimply teenager ruled by hormones. He was a businessman—and he had no business getting involved with a woman he scarcely knew. A woman who had the power to distract him so much.
Thwarted desire replaced by a more garden-variety frustration filled him as he started the car and pulled out into traffic. He’d intended to head over to Qdoba for lunch, but he found himself driving up University Hill, toward the only apartment building he still owned, where his sister, Meg, lived with another premed student.
Meg answered the door dressed in scrubs, holding a can of soup in one hand. “Hey, Mitch!” She stood on tiptoe to hug him, then stepped back and held up the can. “You’re just in time for lunch.”
“How about I take you out instead?”
She tossed the can over her shoulder. It landed on the sofa and bounced twice before coming to rest against a pillow. “Let me put my shoes on and you’ve got a date.”
Fifteen minutes later, they sipped iced tea on the patio at Qdoba. “So what’s up?” Meg asked, reaching for a tortilla chip.
“Nothing’s up.” He rearranged the salt and pepper shakers. “I remembered you don’t have classes Tuesday and Thursday mornings and I thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”
She shook her head. “Since when do you leave work in the middle of the day to socialize? Especially with your sister?”
He pushed the salt and pepper aside and contemplated his hands, palms down in front of him on the table. They were plain, unremarkable hands, no rings, nails clean and neatly filed. No scars or calluses. Hands with no character at all.
“Earth to Mitch.” Meg snapped her fingers under his nose. “C’mon, what’s up? You look like you lost your best friend.”
He sighed and looked up at her. Strands of her dark curly hair fluttered in the breeze from the ceiling fan overhead. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and she looked about sixteen. He couldn’t imagine her ever delivering a baby or performing surgery on anyone.
She looked like their mother—a small, helpless woman. Except Meg wasn’t helpless. She pointed a tortilla chip at him. “You might as well tell me, ’cause you know I’m going to worm it out of you, or else I’ll nose around behind your back until I find out everything. You can’t keep secrets from me, big brother.”
“Did you know Uncle Grif funded a foundation to educate the public about mental illness? And he named it after Mother.”
“I think I remember hearing something like that. Why?”
He sat back, shoulders slumped. “I just found out. I never knew that about him. Why would he do something like that?”
“I think he had a soft spot for Mama. And I know she was fond of him. She always looked forward to his visits when she was in the hospital.”
“I always thought he was just a loudmouthed playboy who spent all his money on gin, girls and golf.”
She tilted her head to one side, her expression sympathetic. “And now you’re beating yourself up because you were wrong.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Hey it’s okay. Even you are allowed to screw up sometimes. It proves you’re human, like the rest of us.”
“Great bedside manner, Doc. I feel all better now.”
“You’ll get over it. Grif must not have held it against you, since he left you his business.”
A business Mitch hadn’t even known existed until the will had been read. Maybe this was Grif’s way of having the last word.
Their lunch arrived and conversation stalled as they focused on their burritos. Mitch had found that even big problems looked smaller when considered in the aftermath of any meal that included plenty of hot sauce and melted cheese.
“So how did you find out about the mental health foundation?” Meg asked just as he’d taken a bite of burrito.
He swallowed and reached for his tea. “I was going through his files at…at the business he left me.”
“Oh, yes. The mysterious business.” She speared a forkful of beans. “Just what is this business, anyway?”
“Nothing important.” He ignored the scowl she sent his way and poured hot sauce onto his plate. “I’m going to close it and open a restaurant on the site.”
Meg shrugged. “Sounds like a lot of work to me, but you’re the big businessman.”
He looked away, pretending great interest in his meal. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake with this restaurant. He’d had the idea for over a year now, ever since he first met Chef Ping. When he found out Uncle Grif had left him a prime piece of downtown real estate, it had seemed like a sign he should go ahead with the project. Now he wondered…
“How’s Lana?”
“Lana?” He looked up, startled. “Uh…she’s okay. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. I just haven’t heard you say much about her lately. I wondered if you were still seeing each other.”
“We’re still seeing each other.” More or less.
“I’ve heard more enthusiasm for the daily special at the student union. Has some of the bloom worn off the romance?”
“Why would you say that?” He stabbed at a piece of tortilla. “Just because I’m not raving about her every minute doesn’t mean I don’t want to continue dating her. A relationship doesn’t have to have fireworks all the time.” He scowled at her. “There’s more to life than sex, you know.”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down there.” She put up her hands. “Who said anything about sex?”
He opened his mouth to protest, but she shook her head. “No, if you and Lana are having problems in the bedroom, I don’t want to know.” She dunked a chip in hot sauce. “But you might want to think about seeing other people for a while. I mean, I’ll admit I’m prejudiced, but I think you’ve got a lot to offer a woman, and I’m not sure Lana really appreciates you.”
He was trying to come up with a suitable retort when his phone rang. Still frowning at his sister, he jerked the phone from his pocket and flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Hi, uh, Mitch? This is Sid.” The manager’s voice sounded strained. “Uh, sorry to bother you, but you need to get back to the store, right away.”
“What is it? Is something wrong?” Mitch’s stomach clenched. Had they been robbed? Was some fundamentalist group staging a protest?
“I’m not sure. Uh…there’s this woman here. And uh…she keeps asking for you.” He lowered his voice. “She’s kind of upset.”
“Oh, hell.”
“What is it?” Meg leaned toward him, her eyes questioning. “Is everything all right?”
He covered the phone with his hand. “It’s the manager at Uncle Grif’s store. There’s a woman there demanding to see me.” He put the phone to his ear again. “What does she want?”
“I don’t know. Uh…she says her name is Lana. Lana Montgomery.”
MEG HAD HEARD OF PEOPLE turning green, but she’d never actually seen it before—until now. Actually, Mitch’s face went through an alarming array of colors, from ashy-white to fiery-red, before settling on this green-tinted phase. He snapped the phone shut and shoved up from the table so hard his chair almost fell over behind him. He grabbed the chair, saving it from crashing to the floor and signaled the waiter for their check. “I have to go,” he croaked.
Meg tossed aside her napkin and stood also. “I’ll go with you.”
He shook his head. “No. You stay here and finish eating.” He tossed a twenty on the table and headed toward the door.
She followed. He stopped at the exit and glared at her. “Meg, you can’t come with me.”
She ignored him and headed for his car. He hurried after her. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The minute he unlocked the car, she opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. “Something’s going on and I intend to find out what it is,” she said.
He fit the key into the ignition and scowled at her. “Get out of this car.”
She fastened her seat belt and returned the scowl. “Make me.”
He growled and started the car. “All right. But you’re staying in the car.”
She turned to look out of the window so he wouldn’t see her smile. Men were so predictable. Even her brother.
Mitch negotiated Boulder traffic with reckless speed, and screeched to a halt in a No Parking zone in front of a pink brick building. Meg looked up at the marquee over the building’s door. Just 4 Play. Her smile broadened. She’d heard of this place. In fact, one of her girlfriends had recommended it. When Mitch jumped out of the car and went inside, she laughed out loud. So this was his secret inheritance. Oh, that was rich. Her straight-arrow brother had been saddled with a sex shop. This she had to see.
When she walked through the door, Mitch was leaning over the counter, deep in conversation with a petite blonde. The blonde pointed toward the back and he took off.
Meg walked over to the counter and picked up a penis-shaped key chain. Now there was a conversation starter. “May I help you?” the blonde asked.
She laid aside the key chain. “I’m Meg Landry. Mitch’s sister. We were having lunch when you called.”
“Oh, I didn’t call. The manager, Sid, did.” She held out her hand. “I’m Jill Sheldon.”
They shook hands. Meg looked around, at the candy-colored condoms, the blowup dolls, massage oils, how-to books and what looked like a belly dancer costume. Her grin widened. Oh brother, what are you into now? She turned to Jill. “So what’s going on? Why did Mitch rush over here in the middle of lunch?”
Jill made a face. “A woman came in here this afternoon, took one look around and started hollering for Mitch.”
“A woman? Who?”
“One of those society types. You know, fancy suit, fancy hair, fancy attitude.” Jill’s expression said Miss Fancy had left her singularly unimpressed. “She said her name was Lana Montgomery.”
Meg shaped her mouth into a perfect O. “I take it Mitch hadn’t gotten around to telling her about this place.”
Jill leaned across the counter, ready to dish dirt. “Who is she?”
“Mitch’s girlfriend. Or maybe ex-girlfriend now.” She picked up a jar of body paint and studied the list of suggested uses. “Something tells me Lana’s not the type to approve of a place like this.”
Jill straightened. “I suppose she thinks there’s something wrong with healthy sexuality. With helping people to improve their relationships and learn about their bodies—”
“Hey, I didn’t say I didn’t approve.” Meg set aside the body paint. “To tell the truth, Lana’s always struck me as somebody laced up a little too tight.”
Jill glanced toward the closed office door. “Like Mitch.”
“Well, yeah, big brother can be a little…intense. But he’s really a great guy.”
Jill raised one eyebrow. “You wouldn’t be a little biased, would you?”
She grinned. “Not at all.” She nodded toward the office. “So what happened before I got here?”
“Sid took this Lana chick back to the office. I think he was going to fix her some tea. If we’re lucky, he slipped a tranquilizer into it.”
“That would probably help.” She walked over to a vibrator display and picked up a bright green model. No sense letting this shopping opportunity go to waste. “I’ve been thinking about getting one of these. What would you recommend?”
“We have some really nice models.” Jill emerged from behind the counter and joined her at the display. “We have every color, size and shape you can think of.” She began opening drawers and taking out boxes. “Somewhere in here is your perfect BOB.”
Meg picked up a bright purple model. “Bob?”
“Your battery operated boyfriend.” She glanced toward the office door. “Let me tell you, sometimes they’re a lot less trouble than the real thing.”
MITCH DIDN’T HAVE TIME to worry about Meg right now. He had to deal with Lana. What the hell was she doing here? How had she found out about the place? And what was he supposed to do with her now?
