First Date - [Bridesmaid's Chronicles 01] Page 6

  She lifted her face from his palm and struggled for dignity. She had to turn toward him to extricate herself, and this brought them nose to nose, iris to iris, mouth to mouth. His warm breath fanned her cheeks and she fixated on the curve of his lips, the cleft in his chin. Just as she thought, No, don't think it , she did: What would it be like to kiss Alex Kimball?

  She inhaled his scent of sunshine and mesquite and red wine, laundry detergent and a faint sandalwood fragrance that might be aftershave or might be sham-poo. The heat had blended it all with a little male musk that made him smell irresistible.

  Those melted-chocolate eyes of his held definite sensual promise, the black lashes veiling but not completely disguising more than a hint of wicked intent. Was that mouth useful for anything but one-liners and good-natured insults? The moment stretched on.

  Just as she was sure he'd touch his lips to hers, but not sure how she'd respond, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear instead. "Jersey, you've got one hot little body, but you sure do stink!"

  Pure mortification propelled her out of his lap and up the steep tilt of the seat to the passenger door. Her sunglasses dangled by one earpiece, and she fumbled with them, her hand shaking, before she jammed them onto her nose again. Then she grabbed her purse, unlatched the door and leaped from the Suburban.

  "Aw, come on, don't be that way. 1 meant it all in good fun." Alex regarded her from behind his Oakleys, not a drop of perspiration on his forehead, damn him.

  Of course you did. And I wish you the sweat glands of a Budweiser Clydesdale . "Thank you," she said between clenched teeth, "for the ride."

  " De nada ." And Alex's oversized jalopy roared away in a cloud of dust.

  * * *

  Sydney stood in the narrow, beige plastic shower under freezing cold water and soaped herself three times before uncontrollable shivering forced her to shut off the tap and step out. Even then, she enjoyed the way her teeth rattled in the air-conditioning, much preferring being chilled to being steamed and smelly.

  As she dried off with a horrid, sandpapery towel, she made a mental note to inform Marv that if he didn't install rubber stick-ons in his tubs he was endangering his customers and opening himself up to hundreds of lawsuits. Of course he would resist the expense, so she'd have to research the statistics and costs and map it all out on paper for him. Ugh.

  Speaking of Marv, she was going to have to call him on her cell phone and give him some good reasons why she wasn't around. She couldn't betray Julia's secrethe would go nuts and be on the next plane.

  Hi, Dad. I'm on the trail of Betty Lou Fitch and it turns out that she's a dangerous drug lord. The polyester double knit and the off-kilter lip liner were only a disguise, and she can kill a man instantly with an acrylic fingernail through the jugular.

  Yup. So, anyway, she's onto me and I'm hiding out in a Mexican cave after a high-speed car chase during which I barely escaped with my life

  If she managed to catch him right as he was on his usual good tear about the quarterly tax payments, he might actually buy it, since he'd be cussing a blue streak and not paying attention. If Marv ever went to jail for anything, she was sure it would be for tax evasionwhich was another reason she wanted to get the hell away from his books.

  Sydney closed her eyes and sprawled on the cheap polyester bedspreadadorned, of course, with pregnant brown and mustard flowersand channel surfed.

  From her window she saw Julia, looking divine, trip blithely out the door on Roman Sonntag's arm. They disappeared into a navy blue Jaguar and a cloud of Texas dust.

  Today, Syd had "met" the Professionally Nice Roman's sister, Kiki. Julia had actually "introduced" all of her bridesmaids in cyberspace. She was in full wedding-planning mode already, which was very scary. Syd opened her laptop and glared at the e-mail again.

  Subject: MY WEDDING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Date: XXXXXXX

  From: Crownjule

  To: numbersgeek, kiki@misstexas95.com, vshelton@kleinschmidtbelker

  Okay, girls, I PROMISE I won't be one of those super-needy brides that inundate her bridesmaids with every little thing (well, I'll try not to, anyway) but I wanted y'all to meet, even if it's in cyberspace. (Did you notice the y'all? I'm practicing being a Texas girl!)

  Anyhow, Syd and Viv, you two already know each other. So, Syd and Viv, meet Kiki, Roman's sister and my third bridesmaid. Kiki, I'm dying to meet you in person, too. Roman tells me we'll get along great. I guess we read a lot of the same mags. So you know, Syd's my big sister, and Viv is the absolute best friend a girl could have.

  You guys can do the getting to know you thing later, but right now, we need to get down to business. We're doing this wedding so whirlwind (isn't it exciting!) that I've had to toss out all the bridal guides because the timelines just don't work. So RIGHT AWAY send me your dress sizes and shoe sizes. And any colors you want to veto off the bat (like if it makes your skin look sallowSyd, don't worry, I'll take care of nixing colors for you). And if you have a favorite flower, let me know that, too.

  I'm sure there are a hundred things more that we need to talk about, but I wanted to make this short and just put the three of you in touch with each other. I can't wait until you all get here. Viv, the German food here is to die for.

  Love you bunches, More soon, J

  And now there was a response from the unknown Kiki.

  Subject: Re: MY WEDDING!!!!!!!!!!

  Date: XXXXXXX

  From: kiki@misstexas95.com

  To: Crownjule, numbersgeek, vshelton

  Hi Girls,

  I've heard of quick weddings (Britney Spears and Nicky Hilton come to mind) but this is ridiculous. Of course, I'm happy my brother has found his first wife, but why put such an important day on the fast track? Is there something I don't know? Should I pick up the shower gift from Bergdorf's baby department?

  If I sound bitchy, it's only because the timing couldn't be worsefor me, that is. I'm already in four weddings this summer, not to mention on the audition track to land a new acting gig. Now I have to endure fittings for another bridesmaid dress? How will I get it all done?

  Wish me luck, Kiki

  @

  First wife? Bergdorf's baby department?! Oh, very nice. Syd refused to acknowledge that similar thoughts had run through her own mind. She hadn't put them in an e-mail to everyone!

  Forget about Kiki Sonntag. Her brother was the person concerning Sydney. Who the hell was he, really? Did she need to hire a private investigator, or should she leave that honor to Marv?

  Marv would have a coronary when he heard. Of course, he'd also feel that he had to show Roman a thing or two, like his swagger and his gold medallion, an inch or three of chest hair and his custom Mercedes SL. She groaned inwardly, preferring to focus on Roman rather than Marv.

  What did they know about Roman's past? Nothing. Was he a womanizer or a drunk, no joke? A sadist? A control freak with a jealous streak? Did he lie, cheat, steal? Set dogs on fire for fun?

  What if he was a drug runner, a megalomaniac, a perverse pervert? A bigamist, a bag man, a wife-swapping, pill-popping, bed-hopping horror? Did he possess a secret harem, ties to terrorism, fourteen aliases and a getaway jet?

  The possibilities were endless and hideous. And the specter of a pregnancy

  Sydney didn't want to think about it. Had sweet, innocent Julia taken precautions before tumbling into bed with this creep and his tool belt? Was she pregnant? Was that the reason for all the rush with the wedding? Sydney swung her legs over the edge of the bed and headed for her suitcase and her emergency stash of Doritos. She needed to talk to her sister again, immediately.

  * * *

  Chapter Seven

  Sydney probably didn't choose the best time or place to ask her: in a local Dunkin' Donuts next day. But she had to know.

  Julia actually spit out her coffee and then looked around to make sure nobody had heard. "Are you crazy? No !"

  She fumbled for a tissue to wipe at the tiny dimple on her chin, now pai
nted with Folgers' finest. She stared at Sydney.

  Sydney gripped her own coffee cup. "Have you seen the e-mail from your future sister-in-law? I just thought that might be the reason for the instant engagement."

  "Well it's not! What e-mail?"

  "You'll have to read it. Are you sure you're not pregnant?"

  "Oh, for God's sake, Sydney. What are you really asking?" Julia lowered her voice and hissed.

  "Whether I'm a virgin? Whether we've had unprotected sex?"

  Syd looked away. "I, uh"

  "It's none of your business. Do you get that?"

  "Do you need a napkin, Jules? I think I need another napkin. Maybe some more cream, too." Sydney pushed away from the table.

  "No, I don't need a napkin. I think I might need a hit man. Jeez!"

  When Sydney returned to the table, Julia gestured her close. With her head almost against her sister's forehead, she said, "Syd. I know you think you still have to wipe my nose for me and help me tie my shoes, but here's a news flash: No, I am not a virgin. Yes, I know how babies are made. Okay?"

  A woman with orange hair was staring at them from across the place. Sydney ignored her. Julia gave her a polite smile.

  Syd asked, without moving her lips, "Are you on the pill?"

  Julia's pretty mouth tightened. "Again, so none of your biz! Can you admit that?"

  Sydney hesitated, but then nodded. "I'm sorry. But I'm your sister. I worry about you."

  "Thank you, but there's no need. And yes, I'm on the pill, okay?"

  "Did you know that it's not one hundred percent effective?"

  Julia threw up her hands, knocking over her coffee in the process. They both jumped up to mop up the spill.

  Over the napkin dispenser, Syd continued to push the issue. "Did you know that?"

  "Yes!"

  "So are you positive you're not pregnant?"

  "Oh, why won't you leave me alone?"

  "You should get a test done."

  "Aaaaarrrggghhh!"

  "Will you get one?"

  "No!"

  "Come on. I'll go buy the kit, if you're too embarrassed."

  "You know what? Fine. If it'll make you happy, you freak, then I'll do it. Now let's get back to the InnI need to get some work done. Go act like a tourist or something. Try on cowboy hats. Drink some beer. Just go away!"

  Sydney had won. After ducking the spiked Jimmy Choo Julia threatened her with, Syd left her in peace.

  She walked over to Main Street and poked into some of the shops, hunting vaguely for a baby gift. Speaking of being pregnant, she still couldn't quite believe her friend Donna wasDonna the junk-food addict who drove like a bat out of hell and was never functional without at least two quarts of coffee in the morning.

  This same woman, whose body had now been snatched by a small human seedling that directed her to eat horse-sized vitamins, had become a scarily chipper caffeine-free morning person, and craved not ice cream but raw bell peppers. Bell peppers! She now ate them by the truckload, sometimes smeared with dressing or cream cheese.

  All Sydney knew was that this was one very strange child sprouting in Donna's womb, and she missed her old friend. But two months from now, she'd become a three-letter word: MOM, and never sleep soundly again.

  Sydney wanted to buy her several adorable outfits that she could coo over for at least thirty seconds before the tot drooled on them, puked on them or worse.

  She found a yellow outfit with ducks on it, and a white one with little jungle animals in primary colors. Both came with tiny matching socks. Sydney had them gift wrapped and continued walking. Even at ten in the morning, heat blanketed Fredericksburg and seemed to toast the tops of her toes. She passed a custom boot place and couldn't resist going in.

  Boots of every color and size greeted her, from pink with embroidered yellow flowers to bright turquoise with peridot green shanks; from burgundy with brown inlays to black studded with silver. She liked a pair in soft, supple chestnut brown, and found when she looked at the price that they cost a great deal less than Julia's Manolos. But she pictured herself, bowlegged and boot-clad, walking into the dry cleaners or A&P in South River, New Jersey, and saying, "Hi, y'all." Nope, probably not a good look for her.

  She took a last, wistful look at the boots and exited the shop. A few doors down stood a hair salon that seemed to be frequented by an older clientele.

  The last voice she expected to issue from the open door was Alex Kimball's.

  "Please, Mama. Put them on."

  "I don't want to."

  Sydney looked in to find him, his back to the door, with a beautifully coiffed older woman. She'd obviously just had her hair done. She stood barefoot in white capri pants and a black-and-white embroidered blouse.

  "I don't want to," she repeated. "It's hot."

  "Yes, it is," Alex agreed. "And if you don't put your shoes on you're gonna burn the soles of your feet. Plus it's dirty out there on the pavement. You don't want to step in somebody's gum, do you, Mama?"

  "No." She said it vaguely, looking past him at Sydney.

  "Okay, then. Let's put them back on."

  "No."

  Alex sighed and picked up her mules, prepared to carry them.

  Sydney stood there awkwardly. "Hi," she said.

  He'd been entirely focused on his mother, and hadn't seen her. He turned and stiffened immediately. "Hi."

  The grinning, wisecracking bastard of yesterday had vanished. Sydney had never seen a grown man look so lost, so helplessespecially not a man who looked like Alex. His aura of power and command had taken a hiatus, and dark shadows hung under his eyes, black crescent moons in the constellation of his face.

  He dangled the mules by two fingers, looking from her to them and back. He shrugged and dredged up the ghost of a smile. " A sale. I couldn't resist."

  Sydney smiled back. "They're you."

  "Hot," his mother sighed. "It's unbearable." She began to unbutton her blouse and Sydney's eyes widened. She'd had a gut instinct that something wasn't quite right with Mamathat she wasn't just eccentric. Now she was pretty sure what was going on. She'd been all too familiar with erratic behavior in her grandmother before she'd died two years ago of Alzheimer's.

  Alex whirled just in time to see his mother's lacy violet bra wink from between the plackets of her blouse. "Mama, no !" He put out his hand to stop her, but she smacked it away.

  The salon's clientele looked on with great interest as Alex tried to hold his mother's blouse together with one hand, restrain her with the other, and not hurt her in the process.

  "Mrs. Kimball," Syd interceded.

  Alex shot her a black look born of humiliation and dark pride. "We're fine," he told her.

  "Mrs. Kimball," she said again. "That is such a beautiful blouse you're wearing!"

  The woman stopped struggling and peered at her as if trying to remember her name. Alex did his best to button one-handed, but she elbowed him in the chest, making it difficult. "Nell," she said finally.

  Sydney nodded, still operating on her hunch: that Mrs. K had early-onset Alzheimer's. If so, then frankly, it wouldn't be kind to correct her, and it was likely she'd forget the information within five minutes anyway. "The embroidery on your blouse, Mrs. Kimballwas that done by hand?"

  "Oh, this?" She twisted out of her son's grasp and looked down at it.

  He stood helpless and mortified and not pleased to have an audiencenot the salon customers, not the staff, not Sydney.

  "It's so intricate. Such tiny stitches. Do you embroider yourself?"

  Mrs. Kimball nodded again.

  "Is that your work?"

  She beamed. "Yes. I made a matching skirt, too,

  Nell. But I decided it was too much pattern, worn together."

  "It looks so nice with your capris and black shoes."

  "Thank you, honey. It's been such a while since I've seen you"

  "I've been traveling," Sydney told her, not missing a beat.

  "Well, that would explain it.
You've been away so long that Alex is all grown up now! Alex, say hello to Nell."

  Though clearly taken aback, he reluctantly stepped forward and kissed Sydney on the cheek as if she were an old friend. She restrained herself from asking him if she smelled better today.

  The dark stubble along his jaw scraped her skin, plucking tiny nerves like guitar strings and dispersing goose bumps along her neck and shoulders. Though the contact was brief, she detected the same sandalwood essence of yesterday. It had to be his aftershave.

  Jerk or not, the fragrance made her want to weave herself through his legs like a cat. But at the moment, they were busy playing accidental roles on a strange stage. They were thespians in his mama's alternate reality.

  Sydney smiled again at Mrs. Kimball and made small talk for a few moments before addressing the problem at hand. "Oh, lookyour top buttons have come undone by accident. You know, I have a blouse with silly buttons like that." She reached out and touched the woman's shoulder. "Can I help you with those?"

  "Oh, dear. Yes, thank you. I don't know how that happened."

  "Most likely," Sydney said, buttoning away, "the holes here are just a little oversized. There! Now you're all decent."

  "Yes." Mrs. Kimball winked. "We wouldn't want to get the boys excited, now would we?"

  Alex looked horrified, but the muscle at his jaw stopped jumping and his shoulders relaxed visibly.

  The overly made-up girl behind the reception desk looked disappointed, and Sydney disliked her for it. She hadn't moved a muscle to help, just sat there chewing her bubblegum like a Holstein with highlights.

  "Where are you two going next?" Syd asked, just to make conversation and transition them out the door.

  "Well, this is Mama's Saturday morning out," said Alex. "We get her hair done, and then we go and have coffee and a Danish, and we might do a little shopping. Then I take her to Mrs. Baumgarten's for a swim and lunch."

  "How nice."

  "Nell, would you like to come and have coffee with us, dear? We'd love to have you." Mrs. Kimball patted her hand.