Love's Tender Fury Part 5

"How do you know that?"

"Got her latest novel right in front of me. Cover photo looks like something from Glamour Shots."

He spun away from the window and started pacing in front of his desk.

"Why did you buy her book?"

"Research, oh obsessive one. Don't know how I'm going to wedge this thing into your chart, though. So why'd she come to your office?"

"Ah...I'd better not. I think I need to keep her secret for a while, until I figure out what she's up to."

"Dude, ever heard of doctor-patient confidentiality? I could not be more silent on the subject of La LeFleur if I had been born without vocal cords."

"But I'm not your patient."

"What are you, my pool boy? Spill. Start with, 'Imagine my surprise when Jessica came into my office,' and end with, 'and then my brilliant psychiatrist called, and I told her everything.'"

He grinned in spite of himself. Shrugged. And told her everything.

CHAPTER TEN .

Joe opened the door and she almost dropped her purse. He looked ghastly-eyes swollen and bloodshot, face too pale. He was holding a gla.s.s full of what she a.s.sumed was whisky. The gla.s.s was so big, it looked like a mixing bowl on a stem.

"Uh...I got your message."

He shrugged. "That b.i.t.c.h."

"Do you mean Curtis? Don't tell me, let me guess-he thinks you're too smart for his own good."

"He's thinking about going back to his ex-girlfriend. He's with her right now..." Joe actually shuddered. "Discussing it."

"What a s.l.u.t! Both of them."

He stood back from the doorway. "Come on in."

She followed him in, wrinkling her nose at the state of the apartment. The shades were drawn, there were dirty dishes everywhere, and the television was on.

"Sit," she ordered.

He listlessly complied. She bustled about, throwing open the shades, picking up dishes, making a cheerful racket. Joe, she was annoyed to notice, was unmoved. He was slumped in front of the television, gulping at his whiskey and feeling pretty d.a.m.ned sorry for himself.

She came over and shut off the television. Joe jerked in surprise and glared at her.

"Dammit! Let me die in peace."

"Forget it, pal. Hey, this ought to cheer you up-I have to work here for the next few days. They're painting my apartment."

"After seven years?"

"They finally believed me when I said the walls weren't supposed to be beige."

"Good," he said listlessly. "I could use the company. Especially now that you've pulled out of the pity party you've been throwing forever."

"Which reminds me, let me tell you about my great day! Then you'll realize that even though your life sucks, just being a.s.sociated with me is something to be grateful for."

"I can hardly f.u.c.king wait."

"I went to see the guy, Tony Freeborg, at Mutch and Musch?"

"Try to keep my name out of these meetings, okay? I don't want him to find out I sicced you on him."

"He'd thank you!" she said brightly.

"With a bullet."

"Well, he's going to get me a meeting with his boss, how about that, wise guy? I'm going to pitch her a few novel ideas."

While speaking, Marnie had been rooting through her tote bag, pulling out a T-s.h.i.+rt and shorts, and changing out of her "serious author" costume. She had just stripped down to her bra and panties when Joe sat up straight.

"Oh my G.o.d!"

She froze, startled. It never occurred to her that Joe might be shocked-possibly excited?-by her undressing in front of him.

She smiled tentatively. "What?"

"What the h.e.l.l is that thing on your leg?"

She glanced down and saw the fist-sized bruise on the outside of her thigh.

"Oh. Walked into the corner of a low bookshelf. Then started swearing. A lot."

"Ouch, looks nasty. Anyway...you were saying about meeting Freeborg's boss?"

She stared at him for a long moment. He stared back. His hair was so untidy it was actually standing up in spikes all over his head, but he still looked yummy to her.

Don't do this, she thought.

"Do you feel anything?"

Bad idea, she warned herself.

"What?" he asked.

Stop now. It's still possible to stop. " Right now. I'm in my underwear, and it's expensive stuff. How does that make you feel?"

"Like you must be freezing your a.s.s off. Want a sweater?"

She shook her head and got dressed. Of course, he didn't feel anything. He thought they were friends. She didn't know if that made him the fool, or her.

She cleared her throat. "So...what? Curtis was just using you to get back at his lady love?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"It's so ironic. Men do to you what you used to do to me. They use you for s.e.x, even if they don't feel anything."

"This is fun. You should come over more often when I'm depressed. Are you implying I deserve this treatment?"

"No. I'm implying that it's ironic."

"Is that what you think I did to you?"

"That is what you did to me. I was your experiment, your 'Hey, maybe I'm not gay' attempt to fit in." She coughed, surprised at how anger surged up at the thought, even after all this time. "Your token woman."

"You're n.o.body's token anything. And we were seventeen...that hardly qualifies you as a woman."

"It doesn't qualify me as a trout!"

He put his arm around her and hugged gently, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She submitted sulkily.

"For what it's worth, you really confused me. You were the only woman I was ever attracted to.

You know, besides Tom Brokaw."

"Well, you really confused me. You were the only man who had s.e.x with me and then decided he preferred men."

"I dunno...maybe you should have switched deodorant...or something."

She stared at him incredulously, then realized he was teasing. She seized a couch pillow and let him have it right across the face. He retaliated with a couch cus.h.i.+on. They fell to the floor, shrieking and wrestling.

CHAPTER ELEVEN .

Tony knew he would have a tough time convincing his boss, Robbie Todd, Editor-in-Chief, to see a best-selling author who was pretending to be a n.o.body. Not because Marnie was pretending to be a n.o.body. No, it would be tough because his boss was completely out of her mind. Since book publis.h.i.+ng was a tough business, Tony didn't know if Robbie being a nutcase worked for her or against her.

But he had his theories.

He had a hard time believing he was even doing this...if only he wasn't so d.a.m.ned mixed up! He liked Marnie a lot, and he'd sure love to get her between the sheets, but when it came to how she felt for him...total blank. He had no idea. In fact, he strongly doubted she was aware he had a p.e.n.i.s at all.

Which was annoying, to say the least.

f.u.c.kit. He could do this for her, regardless of how he felt. And he wasn't the sort of man who did favors with strings attached.

While he tried to convince her, Robbie was lining up her daily dose of medication and vitamins on her spotless desk blotter. There was exactly one piece of paper in her in-bin. Her out-bin was empty. The office was as barren as a cell, and she appeared to be caught up with her work-a near impossibility in the publis.h.i.+ng business.

"I'm telling you, Robbie, this is a great writer."

"How's Dial-A-Shrink working out for you?" Robbie asked without looking up.

"It's the biggest waste of company funds since you decided we needed bi-weekly physicals."

Humming, she said, "A healthy staff is a productive staff." She suddenly straightened, and her eyes went wide with alarm. "Is there a bee on me?"

"No. Listen, cancel Dial-A-Shrink, will you? I don't need to tell Jorenby all my deep dark secrets."

"Dr. m.u.f.fy Jorenby was a child prodigy."

"m.u.f.fy?"

"She's published dozens of academic papers, and is making quite a name for herself in the field."

"I've been baring my soul to a m.u.f.fy?"

"Lucky b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"If she's so great, why is she working at Dial-a-Shrink?"

"Right now her youthful appearance puts patients off."

"Ya think? She sounds like a cheerleader coming down from acid-I can't imagine what she looks like. Look, I'd rather talk about this new writer."

"No ma.n.u.script, no meeting."

She put her head down on the desk, her cheek against the blotter, and flicked the first in a long line of pills into her mouth, then sat up straight and chewed placidly, like a cow.

He was so used to his boss's oddities, he barely noticed. "She's had some experience. And she's brilliant, Rob. Intense and brilliant. Ten minutes of your time. Let her pitch."

"She knows we're small and she wants us anyway. She doesn't have a ma.n.u.script but she expects a meeting with the Queen."

"That's an honorary t.i.tle. You aren't actually royalty."

Robbie flicked two more pills into her mouth in rapid succession, then crunched them up and swallowed them. "Let's keep reality out of this for a moment, shall we?"

"Don't we always?"

"I say this woman has something up her sleeve. Is there a bee on me?"

"No."

"She's hiding something, and you know what it is, and for some nasty reason, you're keeping it from me, the greatest editor who ever lived. Ergo, it's probably something I don't want to get anywhere near."

Flick. Crunch. Swallow.