Film at Eleven

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“Actually,” Seth’s tone indicated he was amused, “I was listing them alphabetically. Next comes, um, Debbie Gayle. Edie Hanover. Francine Smy—“

“I get it,” Chandler cut in. “So maybe I’m just picky. Or I haven’t met the right woman yet. Ever consider that?”

“Nope. Every one of the women you’ve dated have been great. I think—“

“Some of them were not great,” Chandler argued. “You may have a long memory but it’s pretty damned selective. Remember Shauna Bellows? She was a long way from great.”

Seth chuckled. “But she loved you, Chandler. She desperately wanted to bear your children.”

“Was that before or after she went to rehab for her secret pill habit?”

“Okay, so Shauna wasn’t the best choice for a life partner. Face it, bro. The truth of the matter is you aren’t ready for a life partner. Everything is still all about you.”

“I don’t recall you falling on your sword at your wedding reception. You’re happily married, and no one ever thought that would happen. Look at Chance and Val. Who knew he’d ever succumb to wedded bliss. Hell, look at Clayton! Sam and Callie. We all thought Sam would never remarry after that disaster with Lynn and then he found Callie.”

“Sam almost blew it by keeping his secret.”

Chandler sighed. “Point. But my secret isn’t like Sam’s. And when I told you, you promised you’d never bring it up.”

“I haven’t told a single person,” Seth said, pausing long enough to make a cross over his heart. “But I’ve never met a secret that didn’t come back to bite somebody in the ass.”

DRAGGING was the only way to describe the way Molly moved toward her door at 7:45 that morning. She was twisting the earphone connected to her cell into her ear while balancing her briefcase and a travel mug of hot coffee.

“Dammit!” she cried as the hot beverage splashed out on her hand as she turned the key and locked her door. The morning wasn’t looking up as she might have liked.

As was her practice, Molly made phone calls during her drive. It was efficient and allowed her to make the best use of her time. She knew which of her friends were early risers, which ones got up late, and she selected the calls to return accordingly.

Slipping behind the wheel of her car, she settled all of her things into place, then pressed the preprogrammed button on her cell and laid it on the console between the seats.

“Hello?” Claire Esterhouse’s voice was chipper, perky and just the thing she needed to jump-start a better mood.

“Hi. Sorry I didn’t get back to you yesterday. I was—“

“On the news and everything,” Claire interrupted. “Did you see that poor woman’s torso yourself? Was it as disgusting as I imagine? Was it the guy who called when you were on TV’s mother?”

“Let me know when it’s my turn to talk,” Molly teased.

She and Claire had known each other for years, been roommates for a while, as well. They were close friends separated by life. Claire was now married, had moved to Helena with her successful, pharmaceutical-salesman husband and was hoping to start a family. They got together whenever they could, but Molly still longed for the old days, when Claire was only a bedroom away.

“Stan and I couldn’t believe it when we watched the tape. By the way, I taped the show with the hunky newsman, in case you’d like to see it.”

“Not really,” Molly admitted. She explained how many hours she had spent with Seth and Chandler reviewing the segment and looking for some insight to John’s identity. Then she told Claire about the message John left on her machine.

“Ohmygod!” Claire cried, genuine concern in her voice. “Why didn’t you call us? We could have come down.”

“A hundred-mile round trip? I don’t think so, but I appreciate the thought. Besides, Seth and Chandler came over and—“

“The hunky newsman was at your place? Please, please tell me you stripped naked and had your way with him. Better yet, tell me he stripped naked and you have pictures.”

“Only in my mind,” Molly admitted. “Pathetic, huh?”

“Then we’re both pathetic ’cause I’m getting a pretty intense mental image right now.”

“Claire,” Molly joked with pretend sternness, “remember your wonderful husband.”

“All I have to remember is not to yell out ‘Ohh Chandler, baby,’ when I’m having a perfectly appropriate and normal fantasy during my next sexual encounter with my husband.”

Molly laughed, and her mood lightened. “You are so bad.”

“Forget me, tell me all about him. Is he as cute as the billboards and posters all over the place? And when are you going to see him again?”

“Yes and no.”

“Good and fool! Jeez, Mol, the man is a walking, talking invitation to wild passion. Take a walk on the wild side, my friend.”

“The last time I took that walk, I tripped and fell flat on my face,” she said.

“So your last few relationships haven’t worked out. That doesn’t mean you stop trying.”

“I haven’t stopped,” Molly insisted. “I’m just taking a leave of absence.”

“Boring. You don’t have to marry the guy. But as a fully qualified, board-certified therapist, I’m strongly urging you to have mindless sex with him.”

“Because that’s always a great way to approach a relationship,” Molly returned easily. “Besides, he’s a Landry, Claire. Of the Landry Family. Of the wealthy and privileged Landrys. Forget being out of my league. He’s out of my universe.”

“What? You don’t think you can love and be loved by a rich guy? Didn’t I teach you anything during our years together?”

“He’s a public figure, Claire. And I’m the Queen of Private. And this conversation is completely silly because I’m probably not going to see him ever again.”

“Chicken.”

She heard the click and bleep of an incoming call, then said, “Gotta run, I’ve got another call.”

“Cowardly chicken.”

Molly was still grinning when she tapped the button to catch the incoming call. “Dr. Jameson.”

“Molly, dear, you didn’t return my call last night.”

“I’m sorry, Gavin,” she said with genuine emotion. “Things got a little strange.” She proceeded to fill him in on the details of her long night. As always her mentor and friend listened patiently as she told him everything.

Well, almost everything. She didn’t share with him that Chandler had her libido on high alert. Nor did she intend to. Not that Gavin wouldn’t have gladly listened, that was a given. He wouldn’t have cared that she found Chandler mind-alteringly appealing. Gavin was the most polished man she’d ever known, with the social graces of royalty. They’d been colleagues and friends since her residency, but she wouldn’t feel comfortable telling him about her fantasy love life. She pulled into the parking lot of the strip medical center where she kept her office.