What She Really Wants for Christmas. Debbi Rawlins
His eyebrows drew together. “I don’t know the details—”
“You wanted something?”
His mouth curved in an annoyingly tolerant smile. “I was surprised to see you. Look, you want to have a drink sometime?”
“Why?”
He chuckled. “Because you’re attractive and I like you?”
It took Liza a moment to collect herself. Was this guy nuts? He’d probably be banned from the station just for talking to her. She frowned. Except he really wasn’t nuts. He was this straightlaced, normal kind of guy. “I’ve got too much going on right now.” She reached for the knob to roll up the window, and when he didn’t move, she said, “Do you mind?”
“Why don’t you take my number for when you have some time? I’ll buy you dinner.”
“Look, Evan, you’re a nice guy but—”
“Thought you didn’t remember me?” His slow, teasing grin did something to the inside of her chest.
She almost smiled. “See you around,” she said, and this time when she attempted to roll up the window, he let go and stepped back. She started the engine, reversed out of the parking spot and drove off without looking back.
E VAN REACHED INTO his slacks’ pocket for his car keys and used the remote to unlock the doors. His silver Camry was parked right next to the spot Liza had vacated. That was the only reason he’d noticed her, sitting behind the wheel of the small white compact, crying. Wisely, he hadn’t mentioned it. From what he knew of her, she wasn’t the type of woman who indulged herself with tears. In fact, from what he’d heard around the station, she’d been more prone to express her anger or pain with a few choice words.
Still, the lawsuit she’d launched didn’t add up. Until a year ago, Liza, Eve and Jane had been inseparable. He’d admired their loyalty and friendship. The show was really taking off, thanks to Eve Best’s charismatic personality and Liza’s creative genius. And then suddenly Liza disappeared. No one seemed to know why she left or where she went, and he had to admit, he was a bit curious.
Mostly because he’d liked Liza from the first time he’d met her. He’d been on his way to the set of Heartbeat when he’d bumped into her. Literally. She’d been talking to someone over her shoulder and hadn’t seen him come around the corner. Abruptly she’d turned and plowed right into him. Unfortunately for him, she’d been holding a cup of coffee.
He smiled when he thought about how she’d tried to right the wrong, using her napkin to blot his suit, regardless of where the coffee had landed. When she’d finally realized that pressing the napkin to his crotch might not have been the wisest move, she’d looked him in the eye, apologized and asked to be given the cleaning bill.
No nervous twittering or inane remarks. She wasn’t like so many of the women he met, either on the set or at dinner parties hosted by his well-intentioned friends, who were determined to find him a wife. Liza was straightforward, to the point, and he liked that. Normally he preferred petite blondes, which made his attraction to her all the more curious, since she was tall with long, unruly brown hair.
Not that it mattered. He’d asked Liza out to lunch once, and in her no-nonsense fashion, she’d turned him down flat. No excuses, no little white lies to let him down easy. Just a frank refusal that told him not to ask again. After that there was the occasional exchange of greetings when they passed each other in the lobby or parking lot.
Realizing he was still staring after her long-gone car, he opened the door of his Camry and slid behind the wheel. Eve had walked out of the building ahead of him, but obviously she wasn’t the reason Liza had been here. So why was she here? More importantly, why did he care? She’d just shot him down again.
I T WAS SO LATE by the time Liza got home that there wasn’t a single parking spot left in the complex and she had to park a block away from her apartment. Sighing, she cut the car’s engine and then grabbed the bag of burgers she’d picked up from a drive-through. She really hated parking on the street, especially in this crappy neighborhood. Hopefully, any thieves would go for the nice new black sedan parked in front of her.
Not that she loved her secondhand lemon of a car. But if something happened to it, she couldn’t afford to buy another one. Rick had naturally insisted on buying a brand-new Harley-Davidson for himself. With her money. Amazing he hadn’t cracked it up yet. Not that it would hurt her feelings if he had. In fact, in her more stressed-out moments, she’d actually wished he would. He didn’t have to die or anything, just end up in a coma for a good five years.
Her steps slowed as she thought about how he lived in the apartment right next to hers, and that if he happened to look out of the window he’d see her walk up the stairs. Inevitably he’d come outside and grill her about where she’d been. His language would be foul and he wouldn’t give a damn about who overheard. But if she was lucky, he’d be passed out and she wouldn’t have to deal with him until tomorrow.
Sighing, she took the first few stairs, her daze darting toward Rick’s door, praying, hoping she’d have an evening of peace and quiet. So far, so good…
“Hey, Liza, what you got in the bag?”
The sound of her new neighbor’s high-pitched voice made Liza cringe. She waved for Mary Ellen to keep it down and then, with one eye on Rick’s door, she hurried the rest of the way to the third floor.
Leaning over the railing, which was decorated with a string of large colored Christmas lights, Mary Ellen waited, dutifully keeping her mouth shut until Liza joined her. “I think he’s passed out,” the younger woman said in that strange drawl of hers.
She claimed that she and her kid were from Mississippi but Liza had her doubts. The apartment complex’s residents weren’t exactly members of mainstream society. At least once a week Liza heard a shot fired nearby, or watched the police drag away an abusive husband or boyfriend. But the rent was cheap and since she had to fork out money for both her place and Rick’s, this was the best she could afford.
Rick thought it was stupid to have separate apartments, mostly because he wanted complete control over her. But that was the one thing she wouldn’t negotiate with him. She didn’t care that she’d end up broke, but as threadbare as it was, her sanity wasn’t something she was ready to give up. Bad enough that he tried to keep track of her every move, she sure didn’t need him in her face.
She reached the third-floor landing and furtively peeked into Rick’s open window. Sure enough, he lay flat on his back on the tattered brown corduroy couch that they’d picked up at a thrift store. An empty bottle of vodka sat on the end table, but she knew he’d consumed more than booze. Good. Maybe she could have a quiet meal with Mary Ellen and her daughter.
“Told ya.” Mary Ellen inclined her dirty-blond head toward Rick’s apartment, but her gaze stayed on the fast-food bag.
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“I bought extra burgers for you and Freedom.”
Mary Ellen broke into a wide grin that displayed a missing back tooth, which wasn’t usually noticeable since she didn’t smile much. “Oh, goody. I thought we were gonna have to eat macaroni and cheese again.” She turned around, put two fingers into her mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle.
Liza cringed. With dread, she took a step back and squinted into Rick’s apartment. He was still out cold. However, Freedom heard her mom’s whistle and came bounding up the stairs.
“Hi, Liza.” The eight-year-old tomboy was covered with dirt. She pulled off her red ball cap and dust flew everywhere.
“Time for dinner?” she asked her mom, her hopeful blue eyes going to the bag.
“Liza bought us burgers.”
“Yahoo. Fries, too?”
Liza