One Hot Mess Part 31

"Christina?" he said.

"Usually at this point someone tries to kill me," I said.

He grinned a little. "See any likely suspects?"

"Not-" I began, but suddenly Rivera appeared in my peripheral vision. I think I actually did a double take. I mean, what were the chances? I'd seen him just a few hours before, but now, unlike earlier, he was dressed in dark dress pants and a smooth, body-hugging jersey that highlighted the s.h.i.+ft of every sensuous muscle. His midnight hair was combed back, and his eyes were as intense as a hunting falcon's. It wasn't until he leaned toward his companion that I realized he was with anyone at all.

"Thea," I breathed, barely able to force out the name.

"What's that?" Archer asked.

They looked like an L.A. version of Ken and Barbie. Him dark. Her fair. Both so beautiful it made my insides hurt. I turned to Archer, breath held.

"You like me?" I asked, voice barely audible to my own ringing ears.

He didn't bolt for the hills, but he did step back half a stride. "I think so. But-"

"You find me attractive?"

"Like I said, I can't-" he began.

"Is there someone you'd give your kidneys to make jealous?"

One thing about Archer: He wasn't stupid. He didn't look away didn't so much as glance to the side. "Does he have a good view of us?"

"If he were any closer we'd be standing on him."

"How do you feel about French kissing?"

"Right about now-" I began, but he was already pulling me into a full-body hug and locking his lips to mine like a starving man at an all-night banquet.

24.

Some people say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. In actuality, you have to make an incision through his skin, both dermis and epidermis, then carefully sever and separate the sternum. Only upon viewing the exposed thoracic cavity can you reach the heart-if indeed the male of the species actually possesses such an organ.

-Dr. Sarah Kaminsky, Chrissy's psych

professor, who displayed a strong

interest in medicine and perhaps a

little bitterness toward men

"AC. MAC!"

I came to slowly. Archer might be overweight and undera.s.sured, but he could kiss like a drunken sailor.

"What?" My voice was mumbly I turned toward Laney like a woman in need of smelling salts, but she only tilted her head toward the front door. I careened my attention in that direction and discovered that Senator Rivera had also arrived.

Neither Rivera was looking at me-they had their gazes locked on each other. The elder was smiling, but it was the kind of carnivorous expression that belied his perfectly tailored suit, his urbane manner.

I couldn't hear the words, but I could imagine them. "May I have a word with you, Gerald?"

Gerald's answer would not be so congenial, but the supermodel with the hair was standing right there, watching with the wide eyes of an ingenue. What could he do but ease away from her? The two men stood together now, looking like fuming GQ models. We watched the way one would focus on a train wreck, but it didn't come to blows. The conversation was short, terse, and packed with enough animosity to blow the roof right off the restaurant. At the finale, the lieutenant leaned in and growled something in his father's face. Then he stalked off, glanced down at the poor supermodel with the hair, and led her off to their table.

He never once glanced toward me but kept his gaze glued straight ahead, his jaw set like a recalcitrant pugilist's.

"Holy s.h.i.+t." Archer's voice was close to my ear. "Is that Lieutenant Rivera?"

I nodded. His private investigator must have been pretty thorough when ferreting out information.

"Is that his old man?"

I'm not sure I even managed a nod that time. Rivera and the supermodel were just being seated.

"Do you think he saw us kiss?"

I swallowed, and at that second, like the devil himself, Rivera lifted his gaze to mine. I could swear fire shot from his eyes, devouring me, consuming me. I felt my knees buckle, but Archer caught one arm. Laney caught the other. In a moment they were shuffling me toward the front door.

Outside, the air felt heavy.

"You okay?" Laney asked.

I wobbled a nod.

"Holy c.r.a.p!" Solberg was jittering like a June bug. "What do you suppose that was about?"

"Do you want to sit down?" Archer asked. There was a garden only a few yards away. He herded me in that direction and eased me onto a park bench. Then he sat beside me as Laney and Solberg took seats opposite us.

"What just happened?" asked Solberg, still jumping even though he was seated.

"Who's the girl?" Laney asked.

I swallowed a lump of unidentified emotion and glanced back at the restaurant. "The supermodel with the hair?"

"I guess."

"Her name's Thea Altove."

"Why was the senator so p.i.s.sed?" Solberg asked, then apologized for his scalding language.

I closed my eyes for a second and blew out a breath. Such unsteadiness was ridiculous, of course. "He doesn't want Rivera to date her."

"How do you know that?" Laney asked.

I tried to refrain from telling the truth, but resistance was futile.

"Maybe I eavesdropped."

"Where?"

"Caring Hands."

She was still staring at me, so I continued. No one can resist Laney and her lie-seeking gaze.

"In the office next to the senator's."

"And?"

I shook my head. "I didn't hear much, only the senator warning Rivera not to date the supermodel."

"So he brought her here, to the senators favorite spot?"

"This is the senators favorite spot?" Solberg asked.

Laney ignored him. "Why?"

"Did you see her?" I asked.

"You think the senator wants her for himself," Laney said.

"No s.h.i.+-No kidding?" Solberg's tone was raspy. "She's... like ... twelve."

"Time-honored tradition," Archer said.

We turned toward him. Some of us may have forgotten he was there. I'm not proud to admit I might have been one of them.

He shrugged. "Wealthy men. Young women," he explained. All eyes were on him now. "My current stepmother is the same age as my shoelaces."

I made a face.

"Has the senator been wooing her?" Laney asked.

"Wooing?" I said, still a little disoriented.

"Don't think too hard," she warned.

I nodded dimly, recognizing good advice when I heard it. "Not that I know of."

She was scowling. "Then why not let Rivera have her?"

"She's a hottie," Solberg said. "The old man's probably working up his nerve."

We turned on him as if he'd lost a few brain cells.

"The senator once called the Speaker of the House a yellow-bellied turncoat," Archer said.

We turned on him.

He cleared his throat, a little uncomfortable under fire. "I'm just saying, I don't think he lacks nerve."

"What, then?" Laney asked, but I had a sneaking suspicion she might already have forged her own theories.

Archer shrugged. "If he wants her, he's sure as h.e.l.l not going to want his son to have her, even if he doesn't claim her for himself."

"But would that be worth making a public scene?" Laney asked.

"Sometimes men don't make a lot of sense when their egos get involved," Archer said.

We stared at him.

He grinned a little. "Just an observation."

"It seems like the old man would have more important things to worry about," Solberg said.

"Like what?" Archer asked.

It was silent for a second, but after the kiss it seemed like my unfortunate date deserved to know the truth. I gave him the abbreviated version about the deaths and how they involved the good senator.

"So there have been three bizarre deaths related to Rivera," Archer said.

"Loosely related," Laney reminded him. Of the present company, she was probably the person least wanting to get me killed.

"How do we know that?" Solberg asked.

I turned toward him with a scowl.