Close To The Edge

She tilted her head back to look at him. “Why not? I know of some dog groomers who work that way. They go to the customers’ homes and provide the service in the back of their vans. You might even want to offer some of the same services they do—I’m sure some of the ‘clients’ you’d acquire could benefit from a good flea dip.”

Lucky’s chuckle joined her laughter, even as he lowered his face to hers to growl in mock menace, “You’re a cruel woman, cher, to trample a man’s dreams that way.”

“Dreams? Don’t you mean fantasies?”

“Oui, and now I have a far different fantasy in mind, one that involves…” He broke off as he heard a sound in the outer office. In the next moment the door to Jacey’s office was pushed open, and a man filled the doorway.

Time stilled for an instant as the three of them froze. In the next second Jacey straightened abruptly, in a move designed to dislodge Lucky’s hands. He was just contrary enough to keep them in place. “Brummond.” His fingers resumed their kneading motion. “Haven’t seen you around for a while.” His grin was as careless as his words. “Can’t say I’ve missed you.”

Peter Brummond stepped into the office, his gaze first taking in the placement of Lucky’s hands, then the bottle in Jacey’s hand.

“Jacinda.” The word was stiff. “I apologize if I’m interrupting.”

“We just finished a working dinner.” Jacey tried to rise, but Lucky’s placement behind her chair prevented it. She turned and shot him a telling glance. “It’s after five, Lucky. Lock up on your way out, will you?”

As a dismissal it was fairly obvious. There was no reason for it to burn the way it did. “Are you sure?” As far as he could tell, dropping Brummond a few months ago had been one of Jacey’s smartest moves. “We really weren’t finished here.”

Her smile was tight, but her eyes held a plea, one he couldn’t help but respond to. “I’m sure.”

He didn’t have to feign his reluctance. He didn’t know what Brummond’s presence here after all this time meant, but he was pretty damn certain it couldn’t be good. Slowly, he let his hands drop from her shoulders and rounded the table. The other man stepped aside, allowing him room to pass, then shut the door behind him.

“What was that all about?”

If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought there was a note of jealousy in Peter’s voice, but that was ridiculous. Peter was getting married. He’d made his choice. Both of them had.

“Please sit down.” The graciousness in her voice would have made her mother proud. “I must admit I’m a bit surprised to see you, though.”

The man had the grace to flush. He lowered himself to a chair opposite Jacey’s. “Believe me, I know I’ve handled this badly. I wanted to talk to you a dozen times, but I just…I didn’t know what to say. Or how to say it.”

“I understand congratulations are in order. Have the two of you set a date yet?” She had the distant realization that she’d never seen Peter Brummond so discomfited. It would have been satisfying if she weren’t so intensely uncomfortable herself.

“We’re…it will be a small ceremony. Private. That’s why Mother insisted on the engagement affair. You know how she likes a party.”

What Audrey Brummond loved most, Jacey recalled, was having the spotlight on her and her family. She couldn’t imagine that a private wedding ceremony had been Peter’s mother’s idea, hence the engagement party.

Peter fidgeted in his seat. His blond good looks were just as polished as she remembered, saved from conventional handsomeness by a chin that was a shade too weak. “This thing with Celeste…well, it took me by surprise, too. That is, it all happened so quickly…”

“You and I were no longer seeing each other,” Jacey put in smoothly. “You had a right to date other women.”

His expression eased a fraction. “That’s true. I still felt though, that as a courtesy I should have informed you, but there never seemed an opportune moment.”

“The announcement did take me aback,” Jacey conceded in masterful understatement. Never had Miss Denoue’s deportment classes come in so handy. She was hardly tempted at all to brain the man with the paperweight on the desk behind her. “But we’ve known each other a long time. I’m happy for you, Peter. I’ll be there at the engagement party with the rest of your friends wishing you and your fiancée all the best.”

For some reason his face grew pained. “About that…Mother told me that she’d sent you an invitation. And of course I want you there, you have to believe that. But it’s bound to be a trifle awkward, don’t you think?”

Little bubbles of anger fired through her veins as comprehension washed over her. Jacey’s fingers tightened on the bottle in her hand. The insufferable jerk hadn’t come to apologize at all. Oh, he’d done an excellent job with the downcast eyes and contrite expression, but the man had always been a master of getting what he wanted.

And it was obvious that what he wanted was for her to stay far away from his engagement party.

Because the temptation to use the bottle on him was growing too strong, she set it aside. The polite thing to do, of course, was to agree. In their world, appearances were everything. Her absence from the event would certainly ease things for him and his fiancée.

The fact that it would almost certainly worsen things for her wasn’t a matter either of them were supposed to discuss.

“Awkward? Do you really think so?” She hoped the smile she sent him revealed none of the smoldering anger she was experiencing. “I tend to think we’d do a better job of quieting the gossips if people see us together. Then they’ll realize we remain friends and the rumors will die down.”

One of his hands went to his jacket pocket, a sure sign of his nerves. She could hear the faint jingle of keys. “Of course, that’s logical. And that’s exactly what I’ve told Celeste. But she’s a bit on the shy side, and she’s afraid the whole matter will become uncomfortable. She’s not as adept with these situations as you and I are.”

“Oh, dear.” She hoped her tone sounded appropriately sympathetic. It was difficult to summon real empathy for a man she could quite cheerfully push in front of an oncoming bus. “I wouldn’t distress your fiancée for the world, but I really think it’s best if I made an appearance. You know how pesky the rumor mill can be. And while your marriage will end the talk about you, I think my absence from the party will fan the flames of gossip about me. And I’m really not willing to undergo it, Peter. I’d hope you’d want to spare me that.”

There was a sort of remote pleasure in watching the man squirm. Quite literally. “Of course not. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

“Good.” She smiled at him, rose. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could maintain this charade. “So I’ll see you…when was the date again?”

“This Saturday.” He was slower to get to his feet. Having failed at what he’d come here for, he was clearly not anxious to leave. But he was too much of a gentleman to press his point. A shallow, weak-willed, stuffy mama’s boy, but a gentleman, nonetheless. “You’re certainly welcome to come. I hope I didn’t give the impression that you weren’t.”

The man couldn’t even manage to imbue the words with a scrap of sincerity. That made it almost easy for Jacey to nod and say, “Wonderful. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Five minutes later when Lucky stuck his head in the door, his eyes widened comically when he saw her drain the bottle of now-warm beer and slam it on the table. Catching his gaze, she lied, “Delightful. Too bad you didn’t bring a few more. Did you lock the front door?”

“About ten minutes too late, but yeah.” He came into the room, his face quizzical.

“Good.” She pushed away from the table and went to her desk. “I’m going to stay a while longer, but there’s no reason for you to hang around. You’re always whining about me working you too hard. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She looked down sightlessly at the file folders arranged in neat piles on her desk. What she needed right now was to get lost in her work. There were still numerous details about the Garvey case to work out. It would probably work best if she and Lucky divided up the four potential heirs and then consulted daily on their findings. Although perhaps it would be smarter to…

With two arms braced on her desk, Lucky leaned toward her. She hadn’t even heard his approach. The man moved like a cat. “What happened?”

Striving to recapture the insouciance she’d managed with Brummond, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “You mean with Peter? Nothing at all. Why do you ask?”

But unlike the other man, the cool tone didn’t seem to fool Lucky. His dark gaze intent, he said softly, “Don’t lie to me, Jacey. You don’t want to tell me, then say that. But no lies. I think we owe each other better, n’est ce pas?”

Feeling a bit ashamed, she gave up the pretense of interest in the files and met his gaze. “Peter is getting married. Soon. As a matter of fact, there’s going to be an engagement party for him and his fiancée this weekend.”

His face was watchful. “He came here to tell you that?”

The knots were back in her shoulders. She leaned back in her chair, suddenly weary. “I would have found out for myself if I had opened the invitation that came to my house. As it turns out, I learned from my mother last night.” She made a face. “She’s not happy that I let him slip through my fingers.”

“So…what was he doin’ here?”

She gave a humorless smile. “Well, that depends on your interpretation, I imagine. Since I’m not in a particularly charitable mood, I’d say he was dispatched by his fiancée to make sure my appearance didn’t mar her special night.”

Pushing away from the desk, he rounded the corner and propped his hips against the side. Arms folded, he inquired, “And you told him…what?”

“That I wasn’t willing to give the gossips more fuel. Damn.” Lucky’s eyes widened a fraction as the unfamiliar curse passed her lips. “I’d rather face a ten-inch needle than put myself through facing all those people at his party.” Every one of them would be watching, judging her every expression and word. Just the thought had dread snaking through her belly.

“So don’t go.”

“I don’t have a choice.” Hearing the words, she corrected them. “I mean, I have choices, but I don’t like either of them. When it comes down to it, I refuse to allow myself to be the target of speculation. I’ll go, hold my head up and put on the show of my life. And I’ll detest every minute of it.” She met his gaze. “I guess that means I have more of my mother in me than I thought.”