But she wasn’t excited about the thought of her car being parked in his driveway. Not now. Not when-
Her cell phone rang. Wary about who could be calling at this hour, she let it ring twice more before answering with a cautious, “Hello?”
“It’s Riley. Did I wake you?”
“No. I haven’t been to sleep yet.”
“Did you see the paper?”
They spoke at the same time. Gracie sank onto a kitchen chair.
“I can’t believe it,” she moaned. “This is horrible. What’s going on and who’s behind it?”
“We have a whole list of suspects,” he said, sounding grim. “Everyone from the mayor to Pam.”
She processed that information. “I agree Pam could have something to do with it, having lured us to that motel in the first place, but why would she bother?”
“Haven’t a clue. Maybe she’s secretly hated me all these years. Yardley has to be annoyed I’m up in the polls. Of course after this morning, that may change.”
The mayor? Gracie didn’t know anything about him. “Are you saying the mayor could have convinced Pam to drive to that motel, then turned the lights out and while putting a photographer in place, all the while hoping we would follow her, get out of the car, walk around and be in exactly the right place for an incriminating photo?”
There was a moment of silence followed by a chuckle. “You’ve cut right to the heart of the matter. That sounds pretty improbable.”
“Of course that doesn’t leave us with many theories.” She grabbed the paper and smoothed it out on the table. “I can’t believe this happened. I’m involved in a sex scandal. Do you know what my mother is going to have to say about this?”
“Somehow I doubt that’s the worst of your problems. Did you read the description of me?”
“No.” She quickly scanned the short article. “Riley Whitefield, a man who wears an earring. Are you kidding? There’s no mention of you running the bank or anything nice. I’m guessing the newspaper editor isn’t a fan.”
“Apparently not. Plus the ‘Gracie Chronicles’ dig up the past. Anyone who didn’t know the story does now.”
“This can’t be good.” She propped her elbows on the table and rested her forehead on her free hand. “Do you have any idea of how people are going to run with this?”
“What do you mean?”
“This town.” She felt her stomach start to churn and looked around for her bottle of Tums. “Everyone is going to think we’re getting together after all these years. Don’t forget, I’m a legend.”
“Which makes me what?”
“The object of my affections. Oh, God, this is so humiliating.”
“Tell me about it.”
FRANKLIN YARDLEY enjoyed his mornings. The quiet, the perfect cup of coffee and the fact that his wife, Sandra, rarely came downstairs before ten.
This morning, however, had been particularly invigorating. The picture on the front page of the paper had put a bounce in his step.
“Good morning,” Holly said as he entered the reception area outside of his office.
She rose, took his coat and briefcase, then followed him into his office where a fresh pot of coffee awaited.
“Did you see the paper?” he asked.
“Yes. What was Whitefield up to? I read the whole article,” she said. “Gracie Landon was one scary teenager.”
“I know.” Franklin rubbed his hands together. “An odd girl. But she very well may turn out to be an unexpected asset. With the ‘Gracie Chronicles’ reprinted, everyone will want to take her side in whatever happens with Riley.”
Holly frowned. “She sounds mentally unstable.”
“It doesn’t matter. She’s recently returned to town, she and Riley have become an item. I’m going to have to think how to use this to my advantage.”
He settled into his custom-made leather chair. Holly perched on the desk, the skirt of her navy suit sliding up to the top of her thigh. He allowed himself a moment of distraction as he rubbed his hand against her smooth, young, warm skin.
“Lunch?” he asked.
“I’d like that.”
So would he. Not that either of them would be having a meal.
She picked up the paper. “If this Gracie person had a thing for him and she’s a legend, does that mean people won’t like him if he isn’t interested in her?”
Franklin leaned back in his chair and let the moment of contentment wash over him. Of course. It could be just that simple.
“You’re even more intelligent than you are beautiful,” he said sincerely. “I’m a lucky man.”
“You can use that?”
“Absolutely. I can challenge Riley Whitefield to a debate and insist we discuss the family values that are so important to the good citizens of this town.”
GRACIE SLID the cake into the oven and set the timer. She’d barely begun collecting her dirty utensils when she heard someone knocking on the front door.
Her hormones immediately sent up a “yes” vote for it to be Riley. Most of her body agreed. But the sensible part of Gracie’s brain knew that seeing him again so quickly after last night would be nothing but a mistake. She needed time to come to terms with what had happened. She needed to put it behind her, to focus on her future and not on a dark, handsome, former bad-boy who made her toes curl.
Fortunately, when she opened the door, she realized that worrying about Riley wasn’t going to be a problem. Unfortunately, the visitor was her mother.
Lily Landon stood on the wrong side of fifty, but she had great genes and a fabulous hairdresser who kept the gray at bay. She worked hard and worried, which showed around her eyes, but the rest of her could easily pass for a much younger woman. Gracie thought about mentioning how great her mother looked in her trim jeans and brightly colored T-shirt, but the other woman’s forbidding expression told her to keep her compliments to herself.
“Grace Amelia Louise Landon, how could you?” her mother asked as she stomped into the house. “I’m speechless. I’ve had the entire morning to figure out what I was going to say to you and I still can’t think of a single thing.”
Gracie hated the disappointment in her mother’s voice more than the actual words themselves. She was still feeling frail about the whole not-being-asked-to-be-in-the-wedding thing and she didn’t need this.
“It’s not what it looks like,” she said, knowing it sounded totally feeble.
“I see. You
Gracie closed the front door and led the way to the kitchen. “We were, but it was because of Alexis. Have you talked to her? She’s convinced Zeke is having an affair with Pam and asked me to help find out if it’s true.”
“What does that have to do with anything? Alexis has been crazy about what Zeke does with his time since they got married. So don’t use that as an excuse.”
“But I…She didn’t…” Gracie felt like a fish gasping on a dock. “Are you saying Alexis made it up?”
Her mother dismissed the question with an impatient shrug. “I don’t know. She’s always been overly concerned. Zeke adores her, although sometimes I question how he can stand her, what with her dramatic proclamations.”
Gracie sank into the nearest chair and tried to take it all in. This couldn’t be true, could it? “I’ve been running around like a crazy person in a misguided attempt to help my sister and you’re informing me that she’s making the whole thing up?”
“That isn’t my point.”
“Maybe not, but it’s mine. The picture in the paper, trying to follow Zeke…” If this was her new life, she wanted a chance to exchange it for someone else’s. She clutched her suddenly churning stomach. “Riley’s going to kill me
