What She Really Wants For Christmas Read online

  Liza hid a smile. Poor kid was going to grow up to be like her. Smart-mouthed and always in trouble.

  “You went to college, didn’t you?” Mary Ellen asked.

  Liza slowly nodded, not liking the conversation.

  “You’re so pretty and smart and I don’t understand why you’d be living in a dump like this.”

  Right. Real smart. So smart that she’d put herself in a position to be blackmailed. “Look,” Liza said in a tight voice, casting a brief glance at Freedom, who’d turned to licking her fingers instead of listening to the conversation. “I don’t think you want to start a question-and-answer session.”

  Mary Ellen looked grimly down at her weather-roughened hands. “No,” she said quietly, and then cleared her throat and rose from the table. “Freedom, come on. We need to be going. Thanks for dinner, Liza.” She pulled her daughter along with her, keeping her face toward the door.

  “See you later.” Liza stayed in the small open kitchen and watched them go. She probably should’ve made nice. Mary Ellen hadn’t meant anything bad by what she’d said. The woman seemed to have such a lonely life, likely she only wanted to talk.

  But Liza didn’t have it in her. Not today. Everything had gone wrong. After being decisive all of her life, she’d become as stable as a palm tree in a hurricane. She should never have allowed the blackmail to get this far, but she’d panicked and everything had spiraled out of control before she knew what had happened. Winning the lawsuit would save her ass, if she could only keep her act together.

  She walked to the love seat and sank down, careful to avoid the bad spring in the center. God, was this headache ever going away? She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees and cradled her head in her hands. She needed a couple of aspirin. But that meant leaving to get them. No way. She was staying right where she was to enjoy the peace and quiet while Rick was passed out.

  Going to the station had been a bad idea. She’d known it before she’d gotten in the car. But that was the sort of stupid irrational behavior she couldn’t seem to control anymore. Even though she’d never made it out of her car. Thanks to Evan Gann. People didn’t know how to mind their own damn business.

  If she’d gotten into the studio, she might have learned whether another settlement was being considered. The last offer they’d made, Rick had flatly refused. Although since she’d pumped Zach Hass, the new guy, for information, everyone named in the lawsuit had probably been warned not to talk to her. For all she knew, security wouldn’t even have let her inside. Unless…

  She abruptly brought her head up.

  Evan Gann. He could get her inside. No one could stop her if she was going to see him. Damn it. Why hadn’t she taken his phone number? Grudgingly she pushed to her feet, and got her cell phone. She hoped like hell his number was listed.

  Chapter 2

  At three forty-five Evan took a few minutes away from the set and called his office and then his answering service. Because of the consulting job, he only saw patients three days a week, but inevitably, on the rare occasion that he wanted some personal time, there’d be an emergency that would consume the rest of his day. Fortunately, this afternoon he was free to see Liza.

  What a shock it had been when she’d called last night. As a result he’d been on edge all day. It seemed as if every shot had gone wrong and there’d been so many retakes that he was afraid he wouldn’t be done when she arrived at four fifteen. He’d finally had to pull the assistant director aside and tell her that he was going to be out of here by four, no matter what.

  The truth was, his concentration wasn’t what it should be anyway. He didn’t get why Liza had decided to see him. No sign she’d been interested yesterday. So why the sudden change of heart? And why did she want to meet him at the studio? Strange that she’d want to show her face here at all.

  Even stranger that he was still interested in her. Especially this time of the year. Ever since medical school and the Angela debacle, he had no use for the holidays. So what was it about Liza? He couldn’t quite grasp the attraction. Had to be something chemical. Pheromones, maybe. Or maybe that he was a sucker for a crying woman. He had an annoying urge to rescue them.

  He checked his watch and saw that the AD had noticed. She gave him a small nod and he didn’t think twice before grabbing his jacket and heading off the set. He was early but he kept an electric razor in his car’s glove box. He could barely make it through the day without dark stubble covering his chin.

  He’d made it halfway through the lobby when he heard the receptionist call out his name. Melinda wasn’t at her usual station but was decorating a Christmas tree in the corner. She was blond, petite and pretty, and she wasn’t shy about making her interest in him known. But she was too young and a little too brazen for his taste. Besides, she reminded him of his ex-fiancée.

  “You’re right on time, Evan,” she said brightly, holding a glittering star and standing on a short ladder. “I can’t reach the top.” She demonstrated by stretching so high that pretty much everyone in the lobby noticed that she wore pink lacy underwear.

  Evan kept his eyes on her face as he stayed en route to the double doors. “Where’s Leroy?” The ex-basketball-player-turned-security-guard wouldn’t even need the ladder.

  “I don’t know,” she said petulantly. “Can’t you help me?”

  “I’m running late.” He hesitated and glanced out the glass doors. “All right.”

  She smiled and handed him the star before slowly descending the ladder, with a seductive sway to her curvy hips.

  The tree had to be eight feet tall and since he was only six-two he didn’t dare try securing the star without using the ladder. He got up a couple of rungs and felt Melinda’s hand near his right thigh. He frowned down at her.

  “I’m holding the ladder for you,” she said with a wink.

  He ignored her, placed the star on the top of the tree and then quickly got down.

  “You’re leaving early.” The woman had no concept of personal space.

  He backed away from her, at the same time glancing out the glass doors. He spotted Liza pulling into a parking space. “I’ve got to go.”

  “You have a date or something?” she asked in a teasing tone.

  “Yeah,” he said, and headed out of the building without giving her a second look. The sky was darker and the air chillier than when he’d come to work midmorning. He buttoned his jacket as he walked, watching for Liza, his gaze staying on the large black SUV she’d parked behind. A second later he saw her, dressed in jeans and a bulky red sweater that unfortunately hid her curves. He waved to get her attention.

  “What are you doing out here?” she asked as soon as she got close enough.

  Evan checked his watch. “Weren’t we supposed to meet at four fifteen?”

  Resentment flashed in her eyes. “Too embarrassed to be seen with me inside?”

  “Never even crossed my mind. I was done, and I walked out here to meet you. Is that a problem?”

  Her gaze flickered toward the station doors. “No.”

  “Shall we take my car?”

  “I guess.”

  He didn’t appreciate her indifferent tone. “Look, if you’ve changed your mind, no problem.”

  Liza shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I’d like to have a drink with you. Anyplace. You choose.”

  Evan tried not to smile. Originally she’d asked him just to go for coffee, which was okay because he’d considered it a nice start. A drink was better. Maybe it would even lead to dinner. “How about we go to Sardis?”

  “That’s a couple blocks away, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  “Let’s walk.”

  “You’re not cold?”

  Liza laughed. Nice husky sound. “It’s only the beginning of December. Ask me next month.”

  Would she still be around then? Naturally he said nothing. He simply walked alongside her, and when they got to the sidewalk, promptly swung around to take the outside position c
loser to the street.

  Her lips lifted in amusement. “A perfect Southern gentleman, I see.”

  He shrugged sheepishly. “My grandfather once made me promise to never let a woman walk on the street side. Do you know how the custom came about?”

  “Ah, no.”

  Evan smiled. He could tell she didn’t care but she was going to hear it anyway. “It started back in the old west. Unpaved roads, puddles of water…you starting to get the picture?”

  She shook her head in mock disgust, but he saw the smile dancing at the corners of her mouth.

  “A gentleman always walked on the outside to protect the women from getting their long skirts splashed.”

  She laughed, making her eyes sparkle. She wasn’t classically pretty but she had an interesting face. Her eyes were small and almond-shaped, and her nose looked as if it had been sculpted by a skilled surgeon. Although she didn’t strike him as a woman who’d go in for that kind of thing.

  He smiled. “And now you know.”

  “Is that true?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “You made it up?”

  “No, I heard it from my grandfather. I imagine he did read it somewhere, though. I remember him always reading a book or newspaper.”

  She looked away. “I don’t remember my grandparents. I was a baby when they died.”

  “All four of them?”

  “Yeah,” she said, showing undue interest in the Santa window display they were passing.

  He got that it might be a sore subject and dropped it. “You look nice.”

  She gave him an annoyed look. “This is a drink, okay? You’re not getting lucky.”

  “No problem. I’m celibate.” As much as he wanted to see Liza’s expression, he had to look away because he had a lousy poker face.

  Fortunately, at that moment they arrived at the bar, both of them going for the door, but he got it first. He held it open for her.

  “Celibate and a gentleman. This is going to be interesting,” she murmured as she proceeded him.

  Evan followed her, disturbed by the new view he was getting. The sweater wasn’t hiding any curves. She’d lost a lot of weight. About twenty pounds that she hadn’t needed to lose. Was she sick? Was that the reason for her sudden disappearance? Is that why she needed the lottery money?

  The light vanilla fragrance of her hair distracted him, and drew him closer than was polite. When she stopped suddenly, he nearly rammed into her. She turned to say something and their eyes met. She didn’t look pleased.

  “There’s a table over there,” he said, discreetly backing up a foot.

  She hesitated, her gaze turning toward the dimly lit room, the walls covered with racing memorabilia and autographed pictures. Artificial garlands interwoven with Christmas lights were draped along the heavy wooden bar. A Christmas tree stood in the corner but it hadn’t been decorated yet. There were a lot of customers for the time of day, talking and laughing or thoughtfully sipping their cocktails.

  Evan only recognized one person who worked at the station—a cameraman from another show that was filmed down the hall. Luckily, he had nothing to do with Just Between Us and he was probably new enough that Liza wouldn’t recognize him.

  “This okay?” he asked close to her ear.

  “This is fine. I could do without all the damn decorations but I don’t think we can get away from that.”

  “Don’t like Christmas, huh?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Me, neither.”

  She looked at him with surprise but a couple came in behind them and since there were only two available tables, he and Liza headed toward the one he’d spotted in the corner. It hadn’t been cleaned off yet from the previous customers and a waitress promptly removed the empty glasses, wiped off the tabletop with a towel and then said she’d be back to take their drink orders.

  After a brief but awkward silence, Evan spoke first. “You can tell me to go to hell, but I’m going to ask the burning question. Where have you been for the last year?”

  Liza leaned back in her chair and stared at him. “Does it matter?”

  That, he hadn’t expected. “I guess not.”

  “Good.” A hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Now I don’t have to tell you to go to hell.”

  “Go ahead. I can take it. I’ve got broad shoulders.”

  “Do you now?” She gave him an obvious once-over. “I see that you do.”

  “Careful or I’ll think you’re flirting with me.”

  She laughed. “I wouldn’t do that to a man in your condition.”

  Now that he thought about it, he was painfully close to celibacy. His nurse thought he was too picky. “How thoughtful.”

  Liza opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again when their waitress appeared. The woman waited patiently while Liza changed her mind twice about what she wanted to drink. Finally, she settled on a tequila sunrise with an extra cherry. Surprising, because he’d expected her to drink something like scotch or beer.

  After he’d given his order and the waitress left, he waited for Liza to pick up the conversation again, but when she didn’t, he asked, “What have you been doing with yourself?”

  She looked uncomfortable, shifting in her seat and feigning interest in the picture of a Grand Prix racing crew on the wall. “Nothing much.”

  “You have a job?”

  “I’m looking.”

  “In the same field?”

  “Why so many questions?” she snapped.

  “Well, let’s see, I suppose we could talk about the weather.”

  Liza sighed. “I really don’t know what I’m going to do yet.”

  “Waiting for the lawsuit to play out, I imagine.”

  She flinched. “It’s not about the money.”

  “Oh?” Jeez, he really was just making conversation.

  She moistened her lips. “Have you heard anything?”

  “You mean, around the station?”

  She slowly nodded, her anxious hazel eyes staying fastened on his.

  He chuckled. “Your name has popped up from time to time.”

  “I know they all think I’m a bitch.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  Her chin went up in defiance. “You don’t have to protect my tender feelings. I really don’t give a damn.”

  “I know. I was talking about the janitor. He doesn’t speak English, so I doubt he has an opinion of you.”

  Liza grinned. “Very good, Dr. Gann.”

  “Why, thank you.” Silly how good it felt to have impressed Liza. But mostly it was about how her face relaxed when she smiled. How pretty she looked.

  “Here we go.” The waitress set the tequila sunrise in front of Liza along with a small white bowl of maraschino cherries. She put a bottle of imported beer in front of Evan, and then another bowl of pretzels in the center of the table.

  “Thank you.” Liza looked at the waitress, an odd expression on her face, almost as if she was surprised by the kindness.

  “I’ll check back with you later,” the older woman said as she took out the pencil she’d stuck behind her ear and then moved to the next table.

  Liza reached for her second cherry, while eyeing the pretzels. “I wonder if the gang still goes to Latitude Thirty-Three,” she said with an unexpected wistfulness.

  “I think they do. If you want we can go there after—”

  “God, no.” She took a quick sip of her drink. “No one from Just Between Us wants to see me.”

  “Why were you in the parking lot yesterday?”

  She frowned. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Name it. I can’t seem to get it right.”

  She tilted her head to the side, her eyebrows drawing together. “I don’t get you.”

  “Me? I’m an open book.”

  “Are you married?”

  That annoyed him. “I wouldn’t be sitting here if I were.”

&n
bsp; Liza shrugged. “Why? This is merely a friendly drink, yes? Plus, you’re celibate.”

  He smiled. “I was ten minutes ago.”

  She shook her head in mock exasperation. “Okay, were you ever married?”

  “No.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You seem like the marrying kind. Kids. The white picket fence. Steady. Stable. You know the type.”

  Evan knew exactly what she meant. Liza was on the wild side, which meant she’d find someone like that boring. The thing was, he pretty much was that guy. He would have had it all by now if Angela hadn’t screwed him. And, literally, two of his friends. “I have the white picket fence. Came with the house.”

  Liza chuckled. “Ah, so you do have the whole house-and-mortgage thing.”

  “Gotta live somewhere.”

  Her expression fell and her shoulders sagged. “I think I’d like a house someday,” she said softly. “With a small yard and garden. Apartment living is getting old.”

  “Where are you now?”

  She looked warily at him. “You wouldn’t know the place. Anyway, I’m not even sure I’m staying in Atlanta. Probably won’t. Too hot and humid.”

  “Great for growing gardens.”

  She gave a shrug of indifference and in just those few seconds she became the old Liza. “I’m not really the hearth-and-home type. I was only making conversation.”

  “Ah, I see.” He didn’t really. Better to let it go, though. “You must have something in mind, assuming you win the lawsuit.”

  She’d just picked up her drink and it slid from her hand. Half the liquid sloshed onto her lap before she could right the glass. “Damn.”

  He rose. “I’ll get a towel from the waitress.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ve got it.” She used both their cocktail napkins but he knew that couldn’t have done much good.

  “I can get a towel.”

  “No,” she said curtly, and then took a furtive look around before staring back down at her lap.

  Only the couple at the next table had noticed, and they’d already restarted their conversation.

  Evan just watched her swipe at her jeans with an angry frustration that went well beyond a spilled drink. She bit her lower lip so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if she drew blood. He wanted to help, to at least say something comforting or funny to distract her, but he knew better. He had this really strong and unexpected feeling that Liza needed to battle her own demons.