Hot Night. Shannon McKenna
say any more without violating the doctor-patient bond of confidentiality.” Reginald stroked his goatee, a Freudlike gesture.
“Uh, of course. All I meant was, Dovey never even told me that—”
“Ludovic’s former persona often dominates his behavior.” Reginald gave her a knowing smile. “Setbacks, slipups, they’re all part of the process of growth, Abby. As I’m sure you know.”
“But he never once even mentioned—”
“But can one ever plumb the depths of another person? Their dreams, their dark desires? No matter how close we might feel, another person is a foreign country. Even one’s most intimate…beloved.”
She eyed him with mounting alarm. “Uh…”
“But oh, the thrill of the unknown.” Reginald’s eyes fixed on her with what she guessed was meant to be a seductive gaze. “No quest is more compelling than the frontier of the Beloved Other. Verdant jungles…thrusting mountains…precipitous chasms…more wine?”
She stuck out her glass. “God, yes,” she muttered.
“I feel like an explorer tonight.” Reginald filled her glass with an experienced twist of his wrist. “With such an attractive woman.”
“Uh, thanks.” Abby gulped her wine, and persisted in trying to finish her sentence. “But all I was saying is, if Dovey—”
“I can’t permit our conversation about Ludovic to continue, Abby.” Reginald’s tone turned stern. “My professional ethics forbid it.”
Abby closed her mouth with a snap. Reginald reached over to pat her hand. “Sorry to be abrupt, but I would so prefer to talk about you.”
“That’s nice,” she said tightly.
“Oh, yes.” Reginald did not seem to register her discomfort. “Such a beautiful, mysterious woman makes me curious.” He eyed her bosom.
“Oh, really?” She hated her brain dead, two word replies, but it didn’t matter. This guy didn’t need any help carrying on a conversation. He could hold up both sides all by himself. Abby stabbed the last ravioli and stuck it into her mouth. She was going to need all her strength.
“Ludovic told me a lot about you,” Reginald said. “He told me that you had a very, shall we say, colorful past, romantically speaking.”
Abby’s fork clattered loudly onto her plate. “Oh, did he?”
“I was fascinated.” Reginald took a big bite of his steak and eyed her hungrily as he chewed it. “I’m bending my own rules by being here tonight, you see. It’s a bit dodgy, to allow one of my patients to fix me up, but Ludovic had told me so much about you, I just couldn’t resist.”
“I, ah, see,” she said stiffly. She was going to have a stern little talk with Dovey. The very second she got home.
Reginald’s smile displayed large teeth. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he purred. “We all have our dark sides. It’s the shadow play of light and dark, the contrasts, the secret, hidden places, that creates the sizzling heat of sexual attraction between a man and a woman.”
Reginald licked his shiny lips and smiled. He had the smug look of a man who was dead sure he was going to get laid tonight.
She was being slimed. Classy restaurant or skeevy dive, the effect was the same. The prices on the menu didn’t change a thing.
Reginald edged his chair closer and laid his clammy pink hand over hers. “I’m not afraid of your dark side, Abby,” he crooned, lifting her hand slowly toward his lips.
Oh, no. This was one frog she was not going to kiss. Screw politeness. She wasn’t even waiting for the dessert cart.
She yanked her hand away, dabbed at her mouth with her napkin, and sprang up. “Thanks for dinner, Reginald. I’ve gotta scoot.”
Reginald looked blank. “Huh?”
“Bye.” She gave him a brilliant smile and headed straight toward the headwaiter’s podium. “Could someone call me a cab, please?”
“Abby.” Reginald grabbed her arm. “What did I say? Did I offend you in some way?”
She wrenched her arm out of his grip and pushed out the door. “I need to go home,” she said. “I have a headache.”
Café Girasole was on the water. The boardwalk was right across the street. Fortunately, it was crowded with people on this clear June evening, so she was in no danger of repeating last night’s stupidity.
Reginald hurried out after her. “I’ll take you home, Abby.”
“Cab’s fine, thanks,” she said crisply.
“I’m so sorry you’re not well,” Reginald persisted. “You should have said something earlier. I’m expert in several different massage styles, you know. Ten minutes of my Black Serpent technique, and you’d be ready for anything.” He leered as he groped for his keys.
Unbelievably, the guy still had no clue. It boggled the mind.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” she said. “’Night, Reginald.”
“But I…wait a minute.” Reginald dug in his other pants pocket. He tried his jacket. He tried them both again. He peered into the BMW. The keys were still in the ignition. He tried the door. It was locked.
Abby tamped down the giggles. It seemed cruel to have so much fun at his expense. “It happened to me last night. Maybe I jinxed you.”
The laughter in her voice made his head whip around. “Every superstitious belief has its roots in psychological fact,” he said icily. “I conduct the activities of daily living with heightened mindfulness. Locking my keys in my car is a sign that other forces are at work.”
Abby’s mirth faded. “Meaning? What other forces?”
Reginald spoke slowly, as if to a dull child. “Certain people create chaos wherever they go. What an ignorant person might refer to as a jinx is, in fact, just contact with a nexus of chaos and negativity.”
Abby forced her mouth to close. “It was a joke,” she said slowly. “Do you know what a joke is, Reginald? Do I need to explain it to you?”
Reginald frowned. “Sarcasm is unbecoming.”
She could practically hear the clicking sounds as her vertebrae stacked themselves up. “Are you implying that I actually jinxed you?”
Reginald shrugged. “Ludovic led me to understand that your past was one chaotic, unpredictable disaster after another.”
“So it’s my fault you locked your keys in your stupid car?”
“You’re oversimplifying,” Reginald said loftily. “It’s very complex.”
“I have not even begun to oversimplify, you pompous butthead!”
“No need for hostility.” Reginald looked much more cheerful, now that he’d whipped her into a frenzy.
“You call me a nexus of chaos and negativity, and then say there’s no need to be hostile?” Her voice was getting shrill.
Reginald looked down his beaky nose. “You have a problem with anger management, which doesn’t really surprise me. Please control yourself long enough for me to find a professional to open my car.”
She was opening her mouth to tell him exactly where he should stick his anger management when the switch flicked inside her. Ping.
A professional to open my car. A shiver went through her.
Oh, no. She’d be better off going home, turning on the Classics Channel, getting out the Fudge Ripple and a nice big spoon. Being a nexus of chaos and negativity was way too stressful for a working girl.
She