rooted through a Dumpster to clothe himself in these twill pants and subtly printed shirt, but he looked as if he’d just walked out of Neiman Marcus or Saks.
“I held off approaching you because I didn’t know how I would be received,” he said.
“Apparently you finally decided to find out. After making me think I was losing my mind every time I caught sight of you.”
“The male ego’s funny. It was one thing when you divorced me the moment the Feds closed in, but the possibility you might slam the door in my face now that I’m out was too much.”
“I could jump up and down on your ego in my spikiest Manolo Blahnik heels and never do the slightest damage.” Tracy reached for two wineglasses, then opened the refrigerator and rummaged for food. Right this minute she was sorrier that she and Marsh had never shelled a single shrimp at Skeeter’s than she was about the fight. CJ on an empty stomach was twice as upsetting.
He changed the subject. “I can’t believe you moved into this place.”
“Where else was I going to go?” She spotted a wedge of low-fat cheddar, and emerged a moment later with the cheese, a carton of fresh strawberries and four oatmeal cookies Olivia had baked last weekend. Olivia had given her a dozen. She was afraid to think where the other eight had gone.
By now CJ was rummaging through her utensil drawer. “I thought you’d sell this quick, move to some resort area and find yourself a brand-new husband.”
“Somebody I could live off after I went through all the millions I was supposed to get for Happiness Key?” Tracy didn’t even pretend to be angry. She was too hungry, and too off-kilter. “Didn’t sound good to me. I went the rich husband route once, without great results. I’ve sworn off rich men and sociopaths.”
“I hope that last doesn’t refer to me.”
“Not while you’re holding that knife, it doesn’t.” Tracy took the cheese knife away from him, then got a plate for the food and held it out to him. “Let’s eat at the table. I’ll pour the wine.”
They were seated, and she was opening crackers she’d found in the cabinet, before it occurred to her how charmingly domestic this looked. CJ home from the wars, fed and pampered by the little wifey. She almost snorted.
“I don’t remember the house being this nice,” he said.
“You mean you actually came inside? Why? You were planning to bulldoze everything in sight.”
“We were renting the cottages, remember? Until we could start? I was just making sure they were habitable until we were ready to demolish them.”
“Apparently you didn’t look very hard. I’ve spent a small fortune making repairs. I did the ones in here myself. I even put down the floor.”
He smiled, disbelieving. The man had a fabulous smile, made more fabulous against his olive skin. Tracy had always thought that without it, he would have been so ordinary, nobody would have taken his get-rich schemes seriously. With an overbite CJ would have been an accountant or a mortgage broker, cheating high school English teachers and veterinarians. Instead, his grin had catapulted him to a position where he’d been able to cheat supermodels, discount store tycoons and trust-fund babies.
“I did almost everything,” she said. “You’d be amazed at what I can do. I found a job running the recreation program in town. I’m everybody’s favorite landlady. Even little kids adore me. The brand-new Tracy Deloche.”
“I thought you were pretty good the way you were.”
Okay. So she was feeling low as a lizard. Marsh was shacked up with his ex-wife and refused to see Sylvia for the schemer she was. His son was so thrilled to have Mommy in the house that he had probably forgotten Tracy’s name. She knew she was ripe for flattery. So why did she let his words make her feel just a tiny bit better?
She didn’t let on, of course. That would be like feeding the local alligators and not expecting them to grab an arm or a leg for dessert. Instead she asked the obvious question.
“What are you doing in Florida? More accurately, what are you doing in my house?”
“Where else was I going to go?”
He had purposely echoed her words, but she wondered if they were true. “What made you think you were wanted here?”
“If by here you mean your life, I didn’t. But as soon as the news broke that I was out, Edward Statler got in touch and suggested I