What She Really Wants for Christmas

He took off his jacket and laid it across the backseat before slipping in behind the wheel. It was cool for a moment, but then he turned the key in the ignition and both the promise of warmth and soft rock filled the air. The radio was too loud, but the volume always was deafening when he first started the car. Funny how it never seemed loud when he parked. Maybe that’s why he never remembered to adjust it.

The sun had recently set, leaving a pink tinge along the horizon, but it was dark enough that he glanced in his rearview mirror to make sure Liza had safely left the parking lot. Her car was still there. He squinted but he couldn’t see her behind the wheel. What the hell…

He grabbed the handle and jerked open the car door. He got out, and she was right there, so close, he nearly knocked her over.

“Liza, what’s wrong?” He gripped her upper arms.

“I’m okay,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Really, I’m okay.”

He didn’t let go of her. It felt good being this close. Close enough to feel her warm breath brush his chin. Close enough to smell the vanilla scent that clung to her hair.

“Evan? You’re kind of hurting my arm.”

“Oh, jeez.” He quickly lowered his hands. “I’m sorry.” He gave her some room. “What happened? Is something wrong with your car?”

“No, no. My car is fine.” She briefly glanced over her shoulder. “Well, other than it looks as if it’s been through a war zone. Can I change my mind about tomorrow night?”

That took him aback. “Sure.”

“Ever been to Simone’s?”

He smiled. No problem. She could choose the restaurant. “No, but I know of it.”

“How about seven?”

“That works for me.”

“Good.” She hesitated, and then took a small step back. “Thanks again for tonight.”

“My pleasure.” Was it his imagination or was she reluctant to leave? “I’ll wait until you start your car.”

She sighed. “Good night, then.”

“Good night.”

She made a sound of exasperation and came toward him. He was only about five inches taller, but she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him down to her mouth.

She hesitated, as if she’d changed her mind. He smelled her fear, and gently coaxed her lips to soften. Then they parted slightly and he readily accepted the invitation, slipping his tongue inside and exploring the tempting fleshy part of the inside of her cheek. She responded briefly. When she pulled back, he didn’t push. That was enough. For now.

4

“D ON’ T WALK AWAY FROM ME, you stupid bitch.”

Liza foolishly hesitated before continuing toward the apartment door. The next second, she felt Rick’s vile hand grip her shoulder. He jerked her so hard she spun around. That was the second time he’d actually touched her in anger.

She took a deep breath and in a low voice said, “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Or what?” His blue eyes were bloodshot, and the long blond hair she used to find so hot was tangled and matted after not seeing a comb for a week.

“Or I’ll withdraw the lawsuit and you can find another meal ticket.”

He laughed uproariously. “Bullshit. We both know you won’t do that.”

“Don’t be so damn sure.” She was so tired of him—the lifestyle, the lies—and she had a feeling he saw it in her face because for the first time, she saw fear in his.

“Come on, Liza.” He went to put his arm around her but she ducked away.

“I mean it, Rick. I don’t want you touching me.” She looked at the dirty clothes piling up on the floor in the corner of the living room. Empty booze bottles and beer cans vied for space with crumpled fast-food wrappers on all available tabletops. She didn’t even want to know what had created the brown stains in the beige carpet.

Careful not to make contact, he stuck a finger in her face. “Better watch your friggin’ mouth. Looks like you’re forgetting who has the diaries.”

She stepped back. Not because she was afraid, but because he smelled so bad. He’d been wearing the same ripped blue T-shirt two days ago and she seriously doubted it had been washed since then. Or whether he’d had a shower in the past week.

Most disgusting of all was the fact that she’d ever found him attractive. A little over a year ago she’d been so damn in love with him that she would’ve done anything to keep him. How pathetically certain she’d been that he was the one. The one man who could make her whole. Heal all the scars from childhood. Show her the love her parents had been incapable of giving. Sure, he’d been attentive and charming at first. Sexy and somewhat dangerous. Turned out he was just another boozing addict like them. How could she have been so blind and stupid?

“Look,” she said finally, “we’re taking the next offer they present.”

“Is that what that jackass attorney is telling you?” Rick threw the beer he’d had in his hand across the room. “You think I can live on half a million?”

With all that stuff he was shooting in his arm, he probably couldn’t. His problem, not hers. “I haven’t even talked to the attorney. This is my decision. I can’t live like this anymore.”

“What do you mean you haven’t talked to the attorney?”

Too late. She remembered that’s where she’d told him she was going when she met Evan yesterday. “I got the date of our appointment mixed up.”

His gaze narrowed in suspicion. “You banging him?” The telltale tic started at the side of his throat. He was going to start losing it. “You better not be banging him.”

“Grow up. I want him to get the money so I can get you off my back.” Again, she headed for the door. He wouldn’t stop her this time. He needed a fix. “And you damn well better have the diaries for me before I hand over a dime.”

A few seconds after she closed the door behind her, she heard something hit it. She hurried toward her apartment, comforted by the knowledge that he’d pass out soon. Truth be told, she was becoming afraid of him. He was getting more agitated and his appetite for heroine more voracious. She just hoped his brain didn’t get too fried before he turned over Eve’s diaries.

Next time she had to give him money she was slipping it under the door. No more stepping a single foot in his apartment. And if he made a scene outside of hers, she’d threaten to call the police. She was pretty certain that would keep him away without jeopardizing exposure of the diaries.

As soon as she locked her own door, she went straight to the bedroom and sprawled out on the unmade bed. She would have to start getting ready for dinner in an hour. But a quick nap would really help. By the time she had to go, Rick would be out of it and she wouldn’t have to worry about him chasing her to the parking lot like he’d done last week when she’d simply planned on going to the market.

She pulled the covers over her body and closed her eyes. Ten minutes later sleep hadn’t come. Not unusual. Sleep was a luxury these days. Something else Rick had stolen from her. When she’d worked as a producer for Just Between Us there had been many long stressful days. But none of them compared to what she’d experienced in the past year.

If she wasn’t lying awake worrying that Eve’s diaries would somehow make it to the tabloids, Liza would be stressing over how she was going to make the rest of the money stretch out until the lawsuit was settled. If she didn’t get awarded anything, that would bring on a whole new set of problems. Rick would blame her, of course.

She had no idea what she’d do then. Other than going to Eve and Jane and explain why she needed the money from the lawsuit. It was also the very last thing she wanted to do. Admitting that she’d deliberately gone against Eve’s wishes and taken Rick to help pack up Grammie’s house after she’d died was the least of it. The diaries Rick has stolen had spanned some troubled years for Eve.

Her parents had tragically died in a car accident and Eve’s charmed life had ended at age eleven, although she’d been taken in by her wonderful, loving grandmother, and in a way Grammie had taken Liza in, too. Home had been such a horrific place for Liza, and Grammie’s house had been a refuge. She even cooked. Real meals. Not mushy frozen stuff. And the stories she would tell. Wonderful, colorful stories that were so real Liza would dream about them at night.

Even after she and Eve and Jane had gone off to college, it was Grammie’s house where they congregated for holidays. The news of her sudden death had been like a dagger to Liza’s heart. Her own father’s death hadn’t hit her nearly as hard. Not even close. That was her only excuse for taking Rick that weekend to Grammie’s. Eve had been so devastated that she was incapable of packing up the old house. She’d asked Liza, who, devastated herself by the woman’s passing, felt she needed Rick’s support to complete the task.

God, how incredibly dumb she’d been.

She dragged the covers over her head. Eve had always been the best of friends, and Liza betrayed her. Life had been hell since then. Justice was definitely being served.