Lonely Millionaire (17 page)

"That s a strange question for a man who's about to be married to someone else," Adam observed, stepping around his friend to get to his desk.

"That's the funny thing. My mine is producing. I am a millionaire, or I will be as soon as I get my check. I sold out to a consortium up there. Now what do you think?" he demanded with a broad smile.

"You know why. You told me I had to see her, you said she was the one. Kind, caring, warm, sensitive, eight on a scale of one to ten," Jack prodded.

"I said that?" Adam asked, stalling for time. He had to keep Jack from seeing that Mandy was a ten-plus, from throwing himself and his million dollars at her. Why? Because it wasn't fair. To whom? To Mandy, of course. Mandy, who was on the rebound from Jack and who just might rebound right back to Jack. He had a duty to protect Mandy from Jack, who was bouncing from one woman to another like a rubber ball.

Adam watched while his friend dug a small address book from his shirt pocket and then dialed her number. She wouldn't be there, Adam hoped, and she wasn't. But he was forced to listen while Jack left a lengthy message telling her who he was and that he was on his way over there to see her. Adam bored holes through Jack with his eyes, but it didn't do any good, he just kept talking. On his phone. In his office. Finally, he reminded Jack in a hoarse whisper that he had work to do and business calls to make. Jack wound up his message and hung up.

"Just because you don't have to work anymore." Adam said, watching Jack walk to the coffee machine.

"It’s a great feeling," Jack admitted, filling a cup. "You ought to try it. You seem tense and irritable. You need a vacation."

"Well," Jack said, draining his coffee cup, "I guess I'll mosey on over to the Miramar Inn. I picked me up a map at the gas station and got directions just in case I couldn't find you.'' He patted the pocket of his shirt.

Adam watched helplessly as Jack went out the door and got into a shiny new red sports car. Short of throwing himself across the hood, Adam couldn't think of any way to stop him. He just stood there in the doorway, staring at the place where Jack's car had disappeared from view, feeling as if he was sinking into the icy waters of the North Sea.

The worst part was that it was his own fault. He was the one who had praised Mandy to Jack. And Jack to Mandy. What would happen when Jack arrived at the Miramar Inn? Would Mandy come running to the door and fling out her arms in a warm welcome the way she'd done for Adam?

Would Jack help her wallpaper, get breakfast in bed, and take her sight-seeing? She'd be too busy for that, wouldn't she? Too busy to notice that Jack was a damn nice guy. Adam didn't know why he'd been so short with him. He was his best friend, an almost-millionaire, and all he needed to make his life complete was a wife. Mandy was available. She had a wonderful house and no one to share it with. Jack had a million dollars but no house. They needed each other. They deserved each other. And to stand in their way was the height of selfishness.

Adam was able to keep to that line of reasoning for three days, then he broke down and called the inn. It was ten o'clock in the morning and instead of the answering machine, he reached Mandy herself. He sucked in a deep breath and forgot what he was going to say.

He ground his teeth together. Still there, after three days? Well, what did he expect? Maybe he could change the subject, now before he heard any more disturbing news. But he was gripped with an insatiable curiosity. "Really?" he asked.

"Really. He didn't get married, after all. It fell through. You could have knocked me for a loop," she said with a little giggle.

"Nice to hear from you, too," he muttered after he'd hung up. What was going on there? Couldn't she have told him what she thought of Jack before she'd hung up? Not that it mattered. Objectively he'd have to say that Jack was a decent, good-looking guy with a million dollars—the kind of guy any woman would fall for.

But was Mandy just any woman? Adam got no work done that day, thinking about that. He finally wait home and asked Elvis what he thought, but the bird was strangely noncommittal. The only advice he offered was not to step on his blue suede shoes.

"Elvis," Adam said, offering him a plum. "I know where you're coming from, but I've got to see them together before I leave. Then I can go to the North with peace of mind, knowing I've done the right thing. If I don't, I'll never know. I'll always wonder. So tomorrow I'll hang an out-to-lunch sign on the door and mosey on over to the Miramar Inn, as Jack would say. It won't take long. With my perception I'll know right away if they're right for each other. After all, I'm a scientist," he assured the colorful bird.

But the next day before he could even leave the house, Adam got a call from their installation in Saudi Arabia. There was an emergency and Adam had to go through the files and get on the phone. Afterward he threw a change of clothing in his leather overnight bag just in case, but it was five o'clock before he got away from the office.

On the way down the winding road, he prepared himself for the worst. He might not even go into the house. He might just look through the front window and if he saw them together he might just turn around and go home. After all, there was just so much a man could take.

But when he got there it was dark and Jack's red sports car was not out in front. There were two other cars parked there. Through the window he could see strangers drinking sherry and eating hors d'oeuvres. The house looked warm and inviting and Adam felt a tightening in his chest, a longing for the home he'd never had, the family he'd missed. If he leaned forward, he could even see Mandy's family pictures on the wall. But neither Mandy nor Jack was anywhere in sight.

Adam opened the front door without knocking. The guests greeted him warmly, mistaking him for a fellow guest, no doubt. He asked for Mandy, they pointed to the kitchen. He opened the kitchen door to find the room filled with smoke and every surface covered with pots and pans. In the middle of the room Mandy was standing with a cleaver in her hand and an apron wrapped around her body. Her nose was red, tears were running down her face, and she looked absolutely beautiful.

In two seconds he'd crossed the room and stopped just short of crushing her to him and kissing away her tears. "What’s wrong?" he asked hoarsely.

She looked up and gave him a watery smile. "Nothing," she said, "it's the onions. What are you doing here?"

He blanked out. His mind reeled. To say he was just in the neighborhood wouldn't be believable, and he couldn't say he was there to see Jack without admitting he knew him.

"Never mind," she said, wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron. "I'm trying to make that chicken dish you fixed. But I keep messing up. I should have paid more attention. The night when you, the night when I..." she trailed off.

He knew what she was going to say, the night when he'd kissed her, the night they'd eaten by candlelight. "I thought you didn't do dinners."

"I don't want to. But sometimes I have no choice. And I realize I've got to expand. I can't afford to turn anyone down. I thought I could make it, but so far all I've made is a mess." She paused and wiped a tear of frustration from her eye. "I'm glad to see you," she said softly. "Can you stay for dinner?" Then she looked around the kitchen and hiccupped loudly.

"You mean, can I stay to make dinner?"

She put her cleaver down and laid her hands on his shoulders. "I can't let you do that. Not again. Just sit down and keep me company. Keep me from going crazy."

"He's fine." She looked up at Adam for a moment. "I thought he'd be more like you," she said reflectively, her gaze lingering on the angle of his jaw, the way his hair slanted across his forehead.

"It must have been a pleasant surprise to find he wasn't," Adam said, throwing the onions into the pan.

Mandy laughed and he grinned at her. Their eyes locked and held, and Adam's grin faded. Mandy felt a pressure building inside her, a tingling in every nerve end. Adam filling the room with positive ions, filling her with a longing she couldn't deny. Her heartbeat accelerated every time he brushed by her on his way to the counter, every time he touched her hand when they traded utensils. He was everywhere, in the pantry, behind the stove, and he was bigger than she remembered, better-looking, more irresistible, more everything.

With Adam here she almost forgot about Jack. Adam lifted a spoonful of sauce for her to taste and she met his gaze as the rich, thick sauce touched her lips. For a long moment she couldn't move, couldn't swallow, couldn't think, could only feel the earth shake and the sky rumble.

She nodded. "I thought I knew him so well from his letters. But I feel like I don't know him at all. It’s funny. Well, he'll be back soon and you can tell me what you think of him."

He turned back to the stove. "I might not have time to hang around. I've got to get back. Elvis hates to be alone too long."