Ain’t She Sweet?

They didn’t.

Sugar Beth overslept the next morning. Cubby and his cronies had shown up again last night-two nights in a row-and kept her awake with their hooting.

“Sugar… Sugar… Sugar…”

She hurried to dress, and when she arrived at Frenchman’s Bride, she found a note from Colin saying he had business in Memphis and wouldn’t be back until evening. At the end, he’d written, I’ve made a dinner reservation for us tonight at the Parrish Inn. I’ll pick you up at seven.

Of all the dimwitted notions… He had a death wish. Why else would he want to do something so lamebrained? It was one thing for her to work for him-people liked that-but quite another for them to be seen together socially. She’d be leaving Parrish soon, but he’d planted roots here. And no matter how famous he’d become, he was still an outsider. If people realized he’d stopped dedicating himself to making her miserable, he’d lose all their hard-won respect.

She rose and tossed the note in the kitchen trash where it belonged, then gazed down at Gordon who’d just finished his breakfast. “I’ve been doing a con job on myself, haven’t I? Nothing about this affair is going to work.”

He paused in his postmeal stretch to give her his I-told-you-so look.

She grabbed a sponge and attacked the counter. Colin would refuse to sneak around like any sensible person. From his permanent mount on that moral high horse, he’d view the concept of seeing her only for sex as sordid. But who said sordid was always a bad thing? Sometimes sordid was simply practical.

She worked feverishly all day-stocking up on his groceries, cleaning out the refrigerator, straightening the closets. As she went into his office to sort through the household mail, she wished she’d told him yesterday that she’d taken a job with Jewel.

She also wished she’d been able to find a manuscript of Reflections. When she’d asked him if she could read it, he’d told her he didn’t have a fresh copy. She’d said any old copy would do, but he’d put her off until she’d finally told him straight out that attacking Diddie after she was dead wasn’t her idea of fair play. He’d ignored her, and all her snooping since then hadn’t unearthed the manuscript, not even in his computer files. She spotted a printout of the first few chapters of his new book sitting on top of his desk. The red ink staining the pages reminded her of her senior year when that same critical handwriting had streaked the margins of every paper she’d written for him.

She returned to the kitchen and began making casseroles to freeze, just like all the other smitten single ladies in Parrish had done. Finally, she couldn’t postpone it any longer, and she punched in the number of his cell phone.

“Frances Elizabeth here,” she said when he answered.

“I did not know that was your name.”

“Tell it to your shrink.” She settled next to Gordon on the sunroom couch. “Where are you?”

“Almost home. How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Why?”

“Your cramps?”

“Uh… all gone.”

But he’d heard the hesitation, and he was smarter than the average bear. “You lied to me! You didn’t have cramps at all. I won’t have it, do you hear me?” He sounded deliciously pompous and decidedly miffed.

“Sorry,” she said, “I was tired last night, and I didn’t want to bruise your ego by rejecting you. Men can be so sensitive. And don’t forget that I have a long history of taking the easy way out.”

“Why am I becoming increasingly apprehensive about this phone call?”

It was hard to put one over on Yogi Bear. “As a matter of fact, I do have a little news to share. But it’s good news so don’t worry. You might even want to pull over to the side of the road so you can do a happy dance.” She stroked Gordon’s fur, not feeling much like doing a happy dance herself. “As of tomorrow morning, I’m not working for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jewel hired me. She doesn’t pay much, but neither do you, so the money’s pretty much a wash. Not that I’ve forgotten about that two-thousand-dollar guilt check you wrote me, which, by the way, I tore up.”

She waited for the explosion. It wasn’t long in coming.

“This is completely unacceptable!”

“Why? You fired me, remember?”

“We renegotiated.”

“When?”

“You know very well what I’m talking about.”

“Don’t tell me that you regard what we did in bed on Sunday morning as a labor negotiation.”

“Stop being obstinate. Working at the bookstore will make you vulnerable to whoever walks in the door. You’ll have no way of protecting yourself against whatever nastiness your old enemies decide to unleash on you. Jewel should have more sense.”

“Quit it, Daddy, you’re scaring me.”

“Mock all you like. As long as you’re working at Frenchman’s Bride, you’re protected. At the bookstore, you’ll be a sitting target.”

“I’ve known some unreasonable men in my time, but you just shot to the head of the cafeteria line. You want to get rid of me, remember?”

Predictably, he ignored her. “Why didn’t you discuss this with me?”

“No time. She didn’t offer me the job until yesterday morning.”

The slow, ominous monotone that rumbled over the phone line told her she’d made a strategic mistake. “You’ve known this since yesterday, and you’re just getting around to mentioning it?”

“I had some distractions. Thanks, by the way, for being so nice in the attic. I should have thanked you yesterday, but you might have noticed I have a problem expressing gratitude.”

“You have no problem at all expressing gratitude. And I’d very much appreciate it if you’d stop trying to control every conversation that makes you in the slightest bit uncomfortable by throwing out your imaginary character flaws.”

He was a dangerous man, and she quickly changed the subject. “Don’t you think it’s about time you did that happy dance?”

“One of us has to look out for your best interests. Call Jewel immediately and tell her you’ve reconsidered.”

“No.”

“We have an agreement. I don’t plan to let you back out.”

“Hold it right there. The only agreement we ever had was that you intended to make me as miserable as possible, and I intended to courageously make the best of an intolerable situation like valiant Southern women have always done.”

“We’ll talk about this over dinner,” he snapped, clearly reaching the end of a very short rope.

“As to that-”

He broke the connection before she could say more.

Colin was in a foul mood that night as he got dressed to take Sugar Beth to dinner. In her typically reckless fashion, she’d only made her life more difficult. By accepting the job at the bookstore, she’d be at the mercy of everybody who still held a grudge against her. He slipped his watch on. Her yowling admirers had shown up again last night. He’d been reading in the second-floor study, so he hadn’t heard them right away, and by the time he’d gotten downstairs, they’d driven off, robbing him of the satisfaction of driving them off himself.

He gazed around at his bedroom. She’d made sure he had clean laundry, fresh sheets, and a supply of his favorite toiletries. He’d started to get used to having someone looking out for his comfort, even though he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. Still, the smaller touches tended to escape him, like the polished red apple resting on a white cloth napkin next to his bed. One apple. Maddening woman. He frowned and shot his cuffs.

As he made his way to the carriage house, he chastised himself for not specifically telling her she’d been rehired, but he doubted it would have made a difference. Sugar Beth liked to muck about with things. She’d been on