Lorna’s small eyes were darting back and forth between Nick’s complacent grin and Laurant’s earnest expression.
'I’m going to quote you.' She made it sound like a threat.
'That’ll be just fine,' Nick told her as he turned toward the car with Laurant still tucked against his side.
Fortunately the car wasn’t parked far away. Nick opened the door for Laurant and then went around to the driver’s side and got in. Lorna stood on the sidewalk, watching them with a malevolent glare.
'I get the feeling Little Lorna doesn’t like you much,' Nick said, glancing back at the society editor in the rearview mirror.
'I can see why the FBI wanted you. You’re very observant.'
'My article’s going to be in the Sunday paper,' Lorna shouted 'Please try to stay in love until then.'
Infuriated because the woman wouldn’t believe her, Laurant hit the button to roll the window down and then leaned out. 'I’m telling you for the last time, Lorna. This is true love. It’s the lasting kind.'
Lorna stepped off the curb. 'Really.'
'Really,' Laurant repeated.
'Have you set a wedding date?'
It was a challenge, and it didn’t go unanswered. 'As a matter of fact we have,' she said. 'We’re getting married on the second Saturday in October at seven o’clock.'
'Is there a reason the wedding’s so soon?' she asked.
'We don’t want a long engagement. Besides, everything’s planned. Honestly, Lorna, everyone knows about this. You really should keep up, shouldn’t you? I mean, you are the society editor after all.'
Lorna’s response was a loud snort. 'Still… planning a wedding in so little time. You don’t have to get married, do you? Is that the reason for the rush?'
'That’s it,' Laurant snapped as she reached for the door handle.
Nick grabbed her arm and hit the door lock. He was trying not to laugh, but he was dying to ask her what she would do if he let her get out of the car. Was she going to deck Little Lorna?
It suddenly occurred to Laurant that she was acting like a complete lunatic. She slumped down in her seat and rolled the window up.
'Will you please start the car. I want to get out of here.'
Neither one of them said another word until they had driven away from the town square and were heading for the abbey. Then Laurant exploded in a tirade. 'Lorna Hamburg is the most opinionated, gossipy, nasty-spirited woman in Holy Oaks. I can’t abide her. She’s mean and cruel, and she loves to stir up trouble. How dare she not believe me,' she cried. 'I’ve never, ever lied to her before. Never. But she didn’t believe me, did she? You saw the look on her face. She thought I was lying.'
A minute passed in silence and then Nick glanced at her.
'Laurant?'
'What?' she asked, sounding downright surly.
He pointed out the obvious. 'You were lying.'
'But she didn’t know that, did she?'
'Apparently she did.'
'Drive, Nick. Just drive.'
He laughed. He simply couldn’t help it.
She ignored him and stared out the window while she struggled to get her temper under control.
'You aren’t being very logical,' he pointed out. 'What’s going to happen when this is over and I go back to Boston? Are you going to make Lorna print another retraction, or are you just going to admit that you lied to her?'
'I’m never going to admit I lied. Never. I won’t give that vile woman the satisfaction of knowing she was right. I’ve got a horrible reputation with the men in this town because of her lies.'
She folded her arms and stared down at her lap. She knew she wasn’t being reasonable, but she was too angry with the Gorilla to care.
'Lorna doesn’t have any ethics. None at all. I swear I’ll go to any lengths to avoid admitting I lied. I’d even marry you,' she exaggerated. 'And you’re totally unsuitable.'
Nick slowed the car. 'What do you mean, I’m unsuitable? What’s the matter with me?'
'You aren’t safe. That’s what’s the matter with you. You wear a gun, for heaven’s sake.'
'I told you before, it goes with the job.'
'Exactly.'
'There aren’t any guarantees in life, and there’s no such thing as completely safe, at least not the way you mean it. Bus drivers can be killed while they’re doing their job.'
'Oh? How many bus drivers do you think get involved in shoot-outs?'
He gritted his teeth. 'I don’t know all that many FBI agents who get into shoot-outs, as you so quaintly put it,' he muttered. 'You’re being completely illogical. You do know that, don’t you?'
Her spine stiffened. 'Maybe I don’t want to be logical. What’s wrong with that?'
'Let me get this straight. Even though you know it’s illogical you’d still marry me just to spite Lorna?'
Of course she wouldn’t do such a thing. And of course she wasn’t going to admit it to Mr. Always-logical- know-it-all. 'What’s your point?' she asked
'Nothing. If you don’t see anything wrong with it, then I don’t either.'
She folded her arms and gave him a belligerent nod. 'Good. October fourteenth… seven P.M… Pencil it in.'
Chapter 22
One man’s trash could become another man’s treasure. That was Laurant’s hope, anyway, as she sorted through a dozen mildew-infested boxes of old, moth-eaten linens and broken knickknacks someone had stored in the attic over fifty years ago. By the time she stopped for the day, she was covered in a layer of dust, her white slacks were gray, and she was sneezing every other second from the moldy cardboard. Unfortunately, she didn’t find a priceless van Gogh or Degas painting tucked in with the trash. In fact, she didn’t find anything she didn’t consider old junk, but she refused to lose heart. She’d only just started the job, after all, and there were over sixty boxes still sealed for her to sort through.
Nick helped her haul the trash down four flights of steps on their way to the car.
'Do we have time to stop by the seamstress to pick up my bridesmaid dress?' she asked.
'Sure, if we hurry. We’re supposed to pick up Tommy and Noah in an hour. That’s enough time to shower and change.'
The minute they arrived home, she ran up the stairs, passing Joe on his way down.
'Just made the rounds and everything’s locked up tight,' he assured her.
Nick carefully draped the dress over the dining room table and headed for the kitchen to grab a cool drink.
Laurant rushed to get ready. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice and come out of the bathroom wearing an ugly, old ragged robe, and so she gathered up everything she would need including her sling- back shoes.
Twenty-five minutes later she decided she was as good as she was going to get. She was pulling out all the stops tonight, and so she wore the dress. It was short, it was black, and it had just enough spandex in the material to make it cling in all the right places. The flattering square neckline showed only a hint of cleavage. She’d worn the dress only once since moving to Holy Oaks, and that was when she had taken Michelle and Christopher out to dinner to celebrate their engagement. Michelle had nicknamed the outfit 'the killer dress,' said it was indecently decent, and insisted that it was the sexiest thing Laurant owned. Christopher had been emphatic in his agreement.
Laurant stood in front of the mirror primping. She even curled her hair, but because she was so out of practice, she burned her ear in the process. She stared at her reflection and let out a loud groan. Why was she
