outrageously handsome and infuriatingly relaxed. Damn. How can he be so cool when I’m in such a turmoil? He almost looks…amused! She slammed the lid on the pot filled with corn. “Aunt Edna, tell him to leave.”
Edna studied the gravy she was making as if it were incredibly fascinating…almost spellbinding. “Well, he did pay his rent.”
“Aunt Edna, you’re siding with him. How could you?”
“I’m not siding with anyone. I’m just being fair.”
“All right. I’ll give you your rent money back.”
Edna cleared her throat. “That could be tough. I don’t think we have it, what with paying bills and buying Christmas presents…and I already ordered our Christmas turkey.”
Chris and Ken exchanged horrified stares at the mention of a Christmas turkey.
“I don’t know why you don’t want him around, anyway. I like him.” Edna waved the gravy spoon at Ken. “What did you do today to screw things up? Everything looked hunky-dory until you took her out to see that house of yours this morning.” She turned on Chris. “What’s wrong with his house? Why did you give his ring back?”
Chris didn’t know what to say. She didn’t exactly know what was wrong with his house or why she’d given the ring back. She just felt uneasy. She didn’t want another marriage that lasted six weeks. She wanted a marriage that lasted forever, and the brooding executive on the cover of Newsweek didn’t seem like the home-and-hearth type. And the fact that she’d started out as a lark to him still rankled in her mind. Despite all his assurances, she wasn’t sure that the lark had ended. Chris carried the mashed potatoes to the table. “His house was fine, Aunt Edna. I just need a little time to make sure I’m doing the right thing, and I thought I could make the decision better if he wasn’t living here.”
Ken lit the green Christmas candles on the table. “You spent three weeks living with Ken Callahan. I think you should give Ken Knight equal time.”
Edna stood in the doorway, hands on hips. “Who’s Ken Knight? This isn’t anything kinky, is it?”
Sunday morning Chris was drawn to the kitchen by the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Edna stood at the counter, rolling out a pie crust. She was in flour up to her elbows and humming happily. Chris looked cautiously around before reaching for the coffee pot.
“If you’re looking for Ken,” Edna grunted as she rolled, “he’s already gone.”
A rush of emotion that smacked of disappointment passed through Chris’ stomach. “Gone?”
“Don’t worry, he’ll be back. He said he had some things to take care of in Middleburg.” Edna looked at Chris. “You don’t really want him to move out, do you?”
“I don’t know what I want.”
Edna returned to her pie. “What a ninny.”
Chris spent the day puttering around the house. She went to the regional library with Lucy and took her to the playground down the street. At four o’clock, they went out to the shopping center and had their pictures taken with Santa Claus. Ken still hadn’t returned home by suppertime so the three women of the house decided to make sandwiches and eat them in front of the fireplace and television downstairs before retiring to bed. It wasn’t until eleven-thirty that Chris heard the key click in the front door and knew Ken had returned home.
She looked at her naked ring finger and felt a sweep of sadness for the beautiful diamond, all alone in the coffee cup in the kitchen. Maybe Edna was right. Maybe she was being a ninny. She went to the bedroom window and pulled the curtains aside, looking for the reassurance of the blue truck parked at the curb. “Oh, peas and carrots,” she whispered. There was no blue truck. In its place sat a sleek, gleaming black Mercedes sports car. “Kenneth Knight,” she said. “That sucker belongs to Kenneth Knight.”
After a restless night, Chris took extra care with her makeup, applying a slash of eyeliner and a coating of black mascara. She pulled on a brilliant yellow sweatshirt over a black unitard, then stepped into a pair of calf-high soft black leather boots and looked at herself sternly in the oval mirror over her bureau. “Good heavens,” she complained, “I look like a bumblebee.”
“Chris,” Edna called sharply from the foot of the stairs. “You’re ten minutes behind schedule. Get a move on, or you’ll be late.”
Ten minutes late is fine with me, Chris thought as she ambled down the stairs. I can grab a cup of coffee and skip the egg and my chances of running into Kenneth Knight will be enormously lessened. She stopped short at the sight of the man standing in her dining room. Nothing in the past three weeks had prepared her for Ken Callahan Knight in a suit. His lustrous black hair had been cut and perfectly coiffed. Blue-black eyes dominated a clean- shaven face that was set in calm determination. He wore a custom-tailored, European-cut suit that accented his trim waist and narrow hips. The cast had been removed from his arm, compounding the feeling that this was not Ken Callahan at all.
His eyes raked her from head to toe. “That outfit is sexy as hell, but you remind me of a bumblebee.”
“Oh sh-” Chris saw Aunt Edna turn from the stove and look at her sidewise.
“Shelled peas!” Chris ground out.
“You’re gonna be late,” Edna told her. She handed Chris a plateful of egg and a cup of coffee.
“She can eat it in the car.” Ken steered Chris to the front door. He slung her skate bag over his shoulder and held the egg while she shrugged into her jacket. “I have to catch an early flight to New York,” he said, shoving her out the door. “I’ll drop you off on the way.”
Chris slid self-consciously into the plush interior of the Mercedes. Please, she prayed to herself, don’t spill any egg.
The engine purred to life. Chris watched, fascinated, as Ken eased the powerful car into traffic. She had never noticed before how beautiful his hands were. Perfectly manicured nails and long tapered fingers that were adept at driving expensive cars and wielding the reigns of corporate power. “What happened to the cast?”
“I had it removed. It was a little early, but if I’m careful it should be okay.” He stopped for a traffic light and motioned to the glove compartment. “Open the glove compartment and take out the envelope.”
Chris turned the manila envelope over in her hand. A set of keys fell out.
“I’m going to be gone all week. I’m leaving this car at the airport, and that leaves you with no transportation.”
“Bitsy will-”
“Bitsy is very nice and a good friend, but there’s no reason to impose on her. Our deal was that I rent a room from you, and you get to use my truck. I’m trading the truck in for a more practical car. My caretaker said he’d have the car brought out to you this afternoon.”
“The truck was fine.”
“It was a pain in the…bananas. I tried to take Edna shopping once and thought I was going to need a forklift to get her into the front seat. And it doesn’t hold a week’s worth of groceries. You have to put them in the back, and they roll around.”
But it was our truck! she wanted to shout. Dammit, that truck belonged to Ken Callahan. She glared at the man sitting next to her as if he were a murderer.
“Good Lord,” Ken whistled, “why are you wearing your Lizzie Borden look?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
He pulled off Reynolds Road into the rink parking lot and parked the car. He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. “Are you sentimental about the truck?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Hmmmm.” He dabbed gently at her eye. “Then how about telling me what this great big tear is all about.”
Chris sniffed. “It’s about nothing. My eyes always water when I don’t have time for coffee in the morning.”
“And your voice gets husky.”
“That’s right.”
Ken smiled and kissed her. The kiss was soft and warm. It said hello, good-bye, and I love you. He sighed and looked at the slim gold watch on his wrist. “I’m sorry, but if I don’t hurry I’ll miss my flight.”
Chris grabbed her bag from the back and bolted from the car. “Have a nice trip,” she called crankily. She pushed through the glass doors and when she was sure she was alone in the vestibule she kicked the trash receptacle, sending it sprawling into the lobby. She stood horrified for a moment before picking the can up and returning it to its proper place.
