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Midnight Valentine(63)

By:J.T. Geissinger


She laughs. “You want to think about that for half a millisecond?”

“God and I have our differences.” It’s impossible to stay friends with someone after he kills the love of your life. “My mother once said if the shadow of the cross fell on me, I’d turn to ashes. I don’t think she was joking.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Fun? Church and fun have never gone together in the entire history of religion. I think it’s actually against the law for church to be anything but total misery.”

She laughs again. For some reason, my foul mood seems to delight her. “Whoa, there’s some major baggage behind that statement! But this church is different, I promise.”

“Pfft. Do they hand out joints on your way in the door?”

“Ha. We should be so lucky. No, they’re just cool.”

I make a noise that indicates how much I believe her church is anywhere near the vicinity of cool.

Suzanne giggles. “Are you living with some kind of large, disgruntled animal? Because that sounded a lot like a warthog.”

“How would a sophisticated urbanite like you know what a warthog sounds like?”

“You’d be surprised by the things I know,” she says, sounding mysterious.

I can tell that’s a loaded statement. “Okay, I’ll play. Like what?”

“Like Theo Valentine put Coop in charge of Hillrise Construction…” She pauses dramatically. “And left town.”

My surprise is so total, I almost drop the phone. “Left? When?”

“Friday night, according to what I heard.”

“Where did he go?” My voice is so loud, it echoes off the walls.

“Like Coop would tell anyone.” She chuffs in annoyance. “He’s almost as tight-lipped as Theo. Those two are like brothers. But from what I hear, Coop held an emergency meeting with Hillrise’s crew yesterday and told them not to expect Theo back anytime soon.”

Too shocked to continue standing, I plop down onto the lid of the toilet and stare at the floor. I’m blinded by images of Theo’s tortured expression when he looked at me on Friday night, at his expression of fury when he looked at Craig.

“What else did you hear?”

Her voice turns businesslike. “Nope, you’ve gotta pay to play, babes. Otherwise mum’s the word.”

My sigh is aggravated but also resigned. “Fine. What time are you picking me up?”

“In an hour. And don’t wear jeans and a T-shirt.”

“Why not? Since when does God give a shit about fashion?”

“It’s a house of worship, sweetie, not a dorm party. Show the Lord some respect.”

I mutter darkly, “Tell him to earn it,” and hang up.





19





By the time Suzanne rings the bell, I’ve paced the floor so much, I’ve almost worn a groove into the wood. When I open the door, she gives me a quick once-over, nodding in approval at my conservative black slacks and ivory cashmere sweater.

“You look great.”

“I look like someone’s secretary.”

“No one’s secretary looks like you, bombshell. Stop complaining and get your ass in the car. We’re going to be late.”

I lock the front door, and then we’re off. I make it all of two minutes into the drive before I start pestering her for more information. “So? What else did you hear about Theo?”

She looks sideways at me. I can tell she’s trying not to smile. “Why’re you suddenly so interested in Theo Valentine anyway?”

“I wouldn’t call it sudden.” When she purses her lips, I add, “Let’s just say he’s been growing on me.”

“Huh. Like a mold.”

“Suzanne, please!”

“No, seriously, I find this interesting. You went from thinking he was an asshole to begging me with big Bambi eyes for more deets about why he left. Obviously, there’s something going on.”

Her pause is filled with expectation. I realize I’m not getting any more out of her until she gets what she wants from me. I slump down in the seat and stare out the window. “Fine. Yes, there’s something going on.”

She hollers, “What?” so loudly, I jump.

“Jesus, Suzanne, shout a little, why don’t you!”

Cackling, she pounds her fist on the steering wheel. “I knew it! I knew someone would eventually get to him! I want all the details. Are you sleeping with him? Are you in love with him? Wait, no, answer me this first—is he hung?”

She turns to me with an eager expression, her eyes alight. I want to punch her in the face.

“Number one, you’re demented. Number two, we aren’t sleeping together. Number three, no one’s in love with anyone. We’re just…kind of…circling each other warily.”