A Bad Boy is Good to Find - By Jennifer Lewis Page 0,21
be hiding from her. “Apparently you’re still living there. I already know you’re a garage mechanic with a juvenile record and maybe an eighth-grade education, but you’re dressed like a stockbroker. Who are you trying to fool? Yourself?”
His dark eyes narrowed slightly, and a glint of humor covered the pain she saw there. “Maybe.” A slight smile played across his lips and an odd sensation crept up her spine.
“Well, I guess if you’ve got even yourself fooled, you must really be good.”
Silence shimmered between them like the desert heat.
She fidgeted in her seat, uncomfortable, battling a sudden urge to take his hand and hold it. To be nice to him. “Can we drive somewhere? All this sitting still is reminding me how my life is going nowhere fast.”
Con started the engine. “You’re a cool chick, Lizzie. You know, I think I like you even more now you’re showing your dark side.”
“That makes two of us. Where’s my lipstick?”
“I think you put it in the glove compartment.”
She fished it out and applied a thick smear of frosted plum. Checked the results in the side mirror and finger-fixed her smudged eyeliner. She even looked like a bitch with all this makeup on. Maybe there was something to be said for dressing the part.
“Where are we going?”
“Anywhere you like.” He looked downright cheerful.
“I like a town. With people in it. All this emptiness is creeping me out.”
“Your wish is my command.”
Con carried their bags as they walked into the glittering marble lobby of the Desert Palm Hotel in Phoenix. He’d muttered about it looking expensive. She’d laughed. What did he expect? He was escorting Lizzie Hathaway, accustomed to only the best. She wouldn’t need to give him the slip. He’d be begging her to get lost by the time she was done.
“My fiancé and I would like a room,” she said in a syrupy voice. “Do you have a bridal suite?” She turned and gave him a loving look. He shot her back an equally fake smile.
“We certainly do.” The receptionist beamed. “And you’re in luck, it’s vacant. It has a lovely view of the Phoenix skyline. Would you like to hear the rates?”
“I’m sure whatever you’re charging will be fine. Won’t it, sweetie?”
“Sure,” said Con tonelessly.
“Your name?” The receptionist’s smile stretched across her face in a crimson arc. Lizzie widened her own to match.
“Lizzie Hathaway.”
“Lizzie Hathaway…” She wrote it in a log. “I recognize you! Your picture was in the paper after that party at the Coco Club a couple of weeks ago.”
It was? Apparently she’d lost a day or two somewhere along the way. Lizzie kept her smile fixed in place. “I’ve been sowing some wild oats, but I’m ready to settle down now. Aren’t I, darling?”
“Um, yeah.” Con seemed to be having trouble keeping up.
“I’m so glad to hear that. When I read about what happened…” She leaned forward conspiratorially until Lizzie could count the individual pores on her heavily powdered face. “With your inheritance.” The last word was a ponderous whisper. She shook her head with a tragic look on her face. Lizzie’s smile wobbled. “It’s a terrible shame. I said to Zelda, that poor girl is all alone in the world, without a penny. She’s probably never worked a day in her life…”
“Actually I’m a graphic design specialist.” She stepped back from the desk to get away from all those pores oozing prurient interest. How did this totally strange woman know enough about her to gossip with her friend over coffeecake? The thought gave her chills that competed with the air-conditioning.
“Zelda will be so tickled that you’re getting married. I can’t wait to tell her! And such a handsome fellow too.” She shot a simpering glance at Con, then gave Lizzie a big, warm smile that made her want to sink right down into the marble floor and disappear. Her little joke on Con had backfired, and now she’d sparked yet another embarrassing rumor about herself.
Her heels clacked on the marble as they followed the bellhop to the room. She cringed at the sight of herself in the mirrored walls of the elevator, her hair the size of a category-three hurricane.
The bridal suite was embarrassingly luxe. Marble glittered on every surface, silver love-birds flew across the walls, and the heart-shaped bed was a cheerful affront to good taste. The city sprawled below the huge picture window, with more of those damn mountains in the distance.
“How do they know about me?” she hissed at Con when they were alone.