Raspberry Crush (14 page)

It was a terrible allergic reaction, and one that was chalked up to carelessness on Ted's part, especially considering that he'd had no EpiPen on him. The death was an accident, pure and simple.

Yet... the tasteless joke Greg Dappaport had made earlier about killing Ted by slipping him pecan pie... it kept echoing in Billy's mind.

Georgette had resurfaced in the middle of all this, apologizing for cutting out on work to go "necking" with a man she'd met that night. Suffice it to say, Billy was too unnerved by everything to care about the bizarre terminology or worse, the image. Too disturbed by another image: Ted Schneider's big, sturdy body lying limp and crumpled on the grass.

Most of the guests had filed out and headed home when Seth offered Billy a ride home. She declined, though, because she had promised to share a cab with Des to Brookline, since Melissa had taken the Aggerdeen wheels when she'd left the jubilee early. So Billy headed home, wishing that Des exuded the same kind of comfort that Seth did, but knowing that he didn't. Listlessly she stared out the taxi window, watching the start of pelting raindrops, watching the city lights float by, and watching the moon. Wasn't it funny the way it appeared to be moving? As if it had a destination. And wasn't that somehow the trick of it all?

* * *

When Billy got to the Bella Donna on Monday morning, she found her coworkers talking about the man who'd died at the jubilee that weekend. Billy shared Katie and Des's confusion, but Georgette remained wholly unapologetic. "I told him what he shouldn't eat; that's all ya can do," she'd stated more than once.

By the early afternoon, everyone had become preoccupied with work. Billy was decorating the bottom tier of a lemon-vanilla wedding cake when Katie ducked her head into the back. "Hey," she whispered, "your man's here."

Billy turned around, pastry bag in hand. "Mark's here?" she said, surprised.

"No, no, your
other
man. You know—
Blondie."

"Oh..." Billy said, feeling the familiar tightening of nerves in her abdomen. "Okay," she said, setting down the pastry bag and wiping some loose strands of hair away from her face with the back of her hand.

When she walked into the front, she saw Seth waiting for her, looking handsome and golden and a little scruffy. He particularly stood out in the crowd of young professionals that had just entered the bakery, all looking like carbon copies of each other: the guys in khakis and blue button-downs, the girls in black pants and pale-colored blouses.

"Hi," Billy said, smiling, as she led him down to the far side of the counter, away from the register. "What's up?"

"Hey... is this an okay time?"

For what?
That was the question. "Yeah, sure. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, but I was wondering... well, I'd love to take you to lunch today. I mean, if you don't have other plans already."

Other plans... interesting concept. Did that include sitting alone in the food court while she stuffed her face with orange chicken? If so, then she had other plans quite often.

"No, I don't have plans," Billy said, smiling. "I'd love to have lunch." And why not? It was perfectly innocent; it wasn't like she was cheating on Mark. In fact, she'd be sure to tell him all about it the next time she saw him—which wouldn't be for five freaking days, anyway.

"Katie, do you mind if I take lunch now?"

"No problem," Katie said brightly. "I've got it covered."

"Thanks," Billy said, and turned back to Seth. "Let me just grab my bag." On the way to the back, she took a few deep breaths and reassured herself that this was fine—it was a nice, friendly gesture on his part, because Seth was a nice, friendly guy. So that was settled. They'd have lunch, make pleasant small talk, and relax.

She just had to make sure there was no hugging involved.

* * *

While Seth was waiting for Billy, a white-haired woman stormed out from the back, flapping a piece of paper in her hand. "Where the hell is Melissa?" she shouted.

"Still not here," replied the blond girl behind the register.

Heaving a sigh, the older woman said, "Well, maybe you can tell me something. Who the hell eats
pears
on a sandwich?" The blonde looked confused, so the woman showed her the sheet of paper. "Look at this list! When the princess said 'sandwiches,' I thought she meant bologna and cheese. Not 'bean sprouts, pears, and Fontina,' " she read, then slapped the paper. " 'Bok choy pesto and mizuna'—who the hell's even
heard
of half this stuff?"

Whirling around angrily, she stopped short when she made eye contact with Seth. Shit, he hadn't meant to stare.

"Hey, you're the guy from the jubilee," the white-haired lady said, sounding intrigued.

"Yes, hi," he said, "I'm Seth, a friend of Billy's."

"Georgette Walters," she said, reaching out to shake his hand—or to clutch it, as the case may be. "So if you're a friend of Billy's, will we be seein' more of you around here?"

"Uh, I really don't know..." he began, just as Billy came back out with her coat and bag, and suddenly everything was brighter.

"Ready?" she said, walking toward him.

"Your friend Seth and I were just gettin' acquainted," Georgette explained with a wink, squeezing Seth's hand once more before releasing it.

As they walked out of the bakery, Billy whispered to him, "Don't mind Georgette. Apparently she's at her sexual peak, or something equally disturbing like that."
 

"Ah," was all he said, but almost had to laugh. Christ, maybe it had been a while for him, but when he finally broke his dry spell, it sure as hell wouldn't be with Billy's white-haired coworker.

And he had to keep reminding the insane voice in the back of his head that it wouldn't be with
Billy,
either.

Chapter 11

"So what's good here?" Seth said, as they looked over the Cheesecake Factory menu.

"Everything, I think," she replied, resisting the urge to issue the trite reply: "Cheesecake."

As she scanned her menu, Billy swallowed a lump of nervousness and ran her hand over her fluttering stomach. From across the table she could smell a hint of Seth's clean, masculine scent.

"So... thanks for inviting me to lunch," Billy said, sipping her Diet Coke. "That was really nice of you." God, had she ever been more banal?

"Sure, I wanted to do it," Seth said, then leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "So how are you doing after what happened on Saturday night?"

Oh... she'd temporarily forgotten about that. The way Ted Schneider had looked lying dead on the ground.

"What can I get you?" their waitress asked as she approached their table. Billy ordered chicken Romano, and Seth ordered a burger. After they ordered and the waitress left, a silent pause stretched between them. Under the table Billy accidentally brushed Seth's calf with her foot. "Oh, sorry," she said, sitting up more and pulling her legs in.

As she watched his fingers rapping lightly on the table, she noticed how sexy they were... how strong... briefly she imagined how they might feel sliding inside her panties, climbing up between her—
Wait, what was the question again?

"Billy?"

"Huh?"

"I asked what you were thinking."

Well, hell, she wasn't about to tell him
that.
"Oh, nothing," she said, "just wondering about your company. You never really told me the details. What's it called? What do you do? Do you like it? What's a day in the life?"

"Okay, okay," Seth said with a laugh. "Let's see here. It's called Lannigan Consulting. Very inventive, I know. As of August we're finally in the black, which is great. And basically what we do is help start up small companies."

"Wow, that's amazing!"

Seth shrugged as if it were no big deal, but there was a hint of pride behind his modesty. "What about you? Are you looking to get back into Web design? Or do something different?"

"Something different, but I have no idea what," she said with a sigh, feeling like a post-Gen-X cliché. "Part of me thinks I should—I mean, of course I
should
—but... I don't know. I guess what I like about working at Bella Donna is the freedom... the independence. The cake decorating is fun, and sometimes I can really use my imagination—sometimes I'll work in the back on a cake for a couple hours, and I won't even realize so much time has passed." She shrugged. "It's fun. And also, I have more time to myself, when I can just sketch or paint at home...." Suddenly she realized she'd been droning on, so she wrapped it up. "Basically, I'm clueless."

Grinning, he said, "I understand."

The waitress came over and set down their meals; Billy ordered another Diet Coke, and Seth told the waitress to bring some extra lemon when Billy forgot to ask. He actually remembered that?

"Well, whatever you do next, I think it should be something artistic," he said, picking up his burger. "You're such an incredible artist, Billy. Hey, do you still carry your sketch pad everywhere?"

"Yeah, I guess," she said, grinning at him.

"Do you remember that time we went to Starbucks, and there was a drawing class there?"

"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, the memory hitting her like a bolt of lightning. How could she have forgotten? A group of students who'd come into Starbucks to sketch customers and attempt to capture the local culture. Each seemed to zero in on one person as their subject, and the girl who'd sketched Billy had ogled her relentlessly, making it extremely obvious that she was drawing her, and then didn't even have the decency to draw something flattering.

"She made me look like a big Weeble," Billy said now.

Seth laughed, shaking his head. "It was only because you were wearing that big wool sweater and you had your hair all pulled up." So he remembered that, too.

"You're just trying to make me feel better," she said with an almost flirty tilt of her head.

The way Seth smiled at her touched her heart; it was casual, like he knew her well, like they were really friends again. Suddenly her palms felt itchy and clammy, and, unwittingly, she rubbed them on her thighs, burning up the denim but barely noticing. He was too tempting. But she just had to remember two little words:
Mark Warner.
Synonymous with two more little words:
future potential.

"Listen, Billy," Seth said, setting down his burger. "I... well, I asked you to lunch for more than just catching up." He looked like he was struggling for the right words. "Well the truth is... it's just so great to see you again and... I wanted you to know that I'm really sorry about the way things ended."

"It's okay," she said quickly, anxious to segue to a new topic.

"No, really, I just want you to know that..."

God, what?
That he regretted the past? She did, too, but the past was done so why bring it up now? Their breakup was old news, and even though they'd dated only a few months, it was
painfully
old. "Seth, it's ancient history."
Hint, hint.
"Don't even worry about it. How's your burger?"

"Well, I just wanted you to know that it was really hard to leave, but I felt it was the opportunity of a lifetime—"

"Of course," Billy piped in. "It's totally understandable. Let's just be friends and move on." Of course that sounded lame and trite, but she was a desperate woman. Getting dumped gracefully was one thing; having to talk about it was another. Besides, there actually was some truth to what she was saying. She
did
want to be friends with him now, whereas four years ago she couldn't deal with that prospect. In fact, after one or two e-mails, she'd stopped keeping in touch altogether because it was the only way she felt she could get over him.

"Okay," he said, smiling, and touched her wrist affectionately. Breath hitched in her throat at the contact. He didn't let go. Her heart picked up speed as Seth's fingers lingered on her skin. Slowly, his thumb applied gentle pressure, then began rubbing back and forth, almost seductively.

Wait a minute, what was going on here? Did he want to be friends or not? If she wasn't mistaken, Seth was charming her now—working her, arousing her—in a way that seemed anything but platonic.

"Billy..." he said, circling his thumb on her wrist with a maddeningly slow rhythm. Braving a glance up at him from under her lashes, Billy found his gaze locked on her, hungry and potent, and she blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"I have a boyfriend."

Inevitably, this was the guilt talking. For Pete's sake, she was having a clandestine lunch with her ex, and getting turned on at the table. And the really frustrating part was that this wasn't like her at all. She was fiercely loyal by nature, and she
liked
Mark; she didn't want to jeopardize anything there, even if he did occasionally annoy her with his social-butterfly routine.

"Oh," Seth said, sounding caught off guard. Withdrawing his hand, he sat straighter in the booth. "I mean, that's great that you have a boyfriend. I'm not surprised—you're a catch, Billy," he added lightly—casually—and went back to his burger. "I'm glad things are going so well for you," he threw in.

Uh-huh.
Well, this lunch had just taken a bizarre turn... but then, who was she kidding? Practically every moment since Seth came back had been off-puttingly surreal.

* * *

Ten minutes later, while Billy was asking the waitress for a third Diet Coke, Seth was sitting there feeling like an asshole. Who the hell did he think he was? Of
course
Billy had a boyfriend. The girl was sweet, smart, fun, and lusciously sexy. Her eyes were pale blue and guileless. Her personality was warm and inexplicably magnetic. Christ, what on earth had he been thinking?

But he
hadn't
been thinking. Just acting on instinct. Just going with the moment. It seemed like every time he was with Billy, his body raged out of control. His cock throbbed, his balls ached, and he lost all common sense. Hell, it was stupid anyway; he had a life and a business in Seattle. He was only going to be in Massachusetts a couple more weeks—why was he so fixated on being with her?