Film at Eleven. Kelsey Roberts
effort, she was able to level her gaze and keep her pleasant smile from slipping. Every cell in her body was screaming, “Yes! Stay! Me first!” but luckily her intellect had returned from its stroll down Chandler Lane. “Tonight is almost over and I have to be at my office by eight. But, thanks, anyway.”
“SHE SHOT YOU DOWN, deal with it.”
Chandler slammed the door of his brother’s cruiser and glared at him by the dim light of the dashboard console. “My offer was sincere.”
Seth snorted loudly. “Sincerely meant to separate her from her panties.”
“I was being nice.”
“Please, bro,” Seth said as he steered out of the small community and turned west, back toward the Lucky 7 Ranch. “I knew letting you come with me was a bad idea. You were practically drooling over the poor woman.”
“She is seriously droolworthy,” Chandler insisted, his mind filling with images of Molly in her silky pink robe. “Did you see the legs? Incredible legs.”
“Leading, eventually, to an incredible mind. Face it, Chandler, the woman is too smart to get involved with a guy like you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. What’s that supposed to mean, anyway?”
“It means you’re out of your league. Molly impresses me as a kind, compassionate woman who doesn’t need you messing with her.”
“When did I become a serial killer?” Chandler muttered. “I’m a decent guy. I’ve got—“
“An aversion to meaningful, interpersonal relationships. Face it, dear brother, you don’t want any part of her. She’s happily ever after, and you’re happily even after.”
“You’re making me sound like a real jerk.”
“I love you, Chandler. I’m your older brother and it’s my job to tell you when you’re about to make a huge mistake. Consider it said.”
“And the mistake would be?”
“Setting your sights on a nice lady who has a serious problem just now. John—or whatever his real name turns out to be—has obviously fixated on her. Don’t you think one stalker at a time is enough?”
“Stalker? Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”
“Okay, but you get the point. You’re probably only interested in her because she’s pretending not to be interested in you. You’re predictable, Chandler. You always want the things you can’t have. And once you get them, you get bored and move on.”
“That’s not true.”
“Allison Janeway?”
He hadn’t heard that name in years but still remembered the months of pleading phone calls and tearful scenes after he’d broken off with her. “She was an exception.”
“Bethany Carter?”
Chandler winced. “She didn’t take our parting well. But you can hardly blame me for the overreaction of those two women.”
“Cynthia Felder.”
Chandler felt annoyance knot in his gut. “Are you spewing these from memory, or did you keep a list?”
“Actually,” Seth’s tone indicated he was amused, “I was listing them alphabetically. Next comes, um, Debbie Gayle. Edie Hanover. Francine Smy—“
“I get it,” Chandler cut in. “So maybe I’m just picky. Or I haven’t met the right woman yet. Ever consider that?”
“Nope. Every one of the women you’ve dated have been great. I think—“
“Some of them were not great,” Chandler argued. “You may have a long memory but it’s pretty damned selective. Remember Shauna Bellows? She was a long way from great.”
Seth chuckled. “But she loved you, Chandler. She desperately wanted to bear your children.”
“Was that before or after she went to rehab for her secret pill habit?”
“Okay, so Shauna wasn’t the best choice for a life partner. Face it, bro. The truth of the matter is you aren’t ready for a life partner. Everything is still all about you.”
“I don’t recall you falling on your sword at your wedding reception. You’re happily married, and no one ever thought that would happen. Look at Chance and Val. Who knew he’d ever succumb to wedded bliss. Hell, look at Clayton! Sam and Callie. We all thought Sam would never remarry after that disaster with Lynn and then he found Callie.”
“Sam almost blew it by keeping his secret.”
Chandler sighed. “Point. But my secret isn’t like Sam’s. And when I told you, you promised you’d never bring it up.”
“I haven’t told a single person,” Seth said, pausing long enough to make a cross over his heart. “But I’ve never met a secret that didn’t come back to bite somebody in the ass.”
DRAGGING was the only way to describe the way Molly moved toward her door at 7:45 that morning. She was twisting the earphone connected to her cell into her ear while balancing her briefcase and a travel mug of hot coffee.
“Dammit!” she cried as the hot beverage splashed out on her hand as she turned the key and locked her door. The morning wasn’t looking up as she might have liked.
As was her practice, Molly made phone calls during her drive. It was efficient and allowed her to make the best use of her time. She knew which of her friends were early risers, which ones got up late, and she selected the calls to return accordingly.
Slipping behind the wheel of her car, she settled all of her things into place, then pressed the preprogrammed button on her cell and laid it on the console between the seats.
“Hello?” Claire Esterhouse’s voice was chipper, perky and just the thing she needed to jump-start a better mood.
“Hi. Sorry I didn’t get back to you yesterday. I was—“
“On the news and everything,” Claire interrupted. “Did you see that poor woman’s torso yourself? Was it as disgusting as I imagine? Was it the guy who called when you were on TV’s mother?”
“Let me know when it’s my turn to talk,” Molly teased.
She and Claire had known each other for years, been roommates for a while, as well. They were close friends separated by life. Claire was now married, had moved to Helena with her successful, pharmaceutical-salesman husband and was hoping to start a family. They got together whenever they could, but Molly still longed for the old days, when Claire was only a bedroom away.
“Stan and I couldn’t believe it when we watched the tape. By the way, I taped the show with the hunky newsman, in case you’d like to see it.”
“Not really,” Molly admitted. She explained how many hours she had spent with Seth and Chandler reviewing the segment and looking for some insight to John’s identity. Then she told Claire about the message John left on her machine.
“Ohmygod!” Claire cried, genuine concern in her voice. “Why didn’t you call us? We could have come down.”
“A hundred-mile round trip? I don’t think so, but I appreciate the thought. Besides, Seth and Chandler came over and—“
“The hunky newsman was at your place? Please, please tell me you stripped naked and had your way with him. Better yet, tell me he stripped naked and you have pictures.”
“Only in my mind,” Molly admitted. “Pathetic, huh?”
“Then we’re both pathetic ’cause I’m getting a pretty intense mental image right now.”
“Claire,” Molly joked with pretend sternness, “remember your wonderful husband.”
“All