Overheated Page 12

“Are you sleeping with her?”

  “My personal life is none of your business, either.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Take it any way you want.” Larry didn’t need the third degree from his own son.

  “Dad, you need someone your own age. This isn’t going to end well. I’m worried about you.”

  Larry hadn’t been thinking about it ending at all. As far as he was concerned, it had barely begun. Crystal was a beautiful, intelligent, incredibly sexy woman who seemed to enjoy his company. Why did that have to be a problem?

  “You stop to think about what she’s after?” asked Steve.

  Larry glared at him.

  “She has to know you have money.”

  “How the hell would she know that?” Larry didn’t lead a flamboyant lifestyle. His investments were just that, investments.

  Sure they’d done well. He was a mathematician after all. In his second year of graduate school, he’d written an algorithm to predict the stock market. It had worked. But nobody outside the family had any inkling he made any more than a college professor’s salary.

  Steve threw up his arms in frustration. “She researched you, Dad. You’re a Grosso. We’re one of NASCAR’s first families.”

  “I approached her.”

  “The best cons always start that way.”

  Larry felt anger well up from the pit of his stomach. Crystal hadn’t researched him. She wasn’t after his money. She wouldn’t even spend the money Simon left her, because she was too principled to touch it. She was one of the most honest, unselfish, honorable women he’d ever met.

  His voice went cold. “I think you’d better leave.”

  Steve’s jaw clenched tight. “You’re in denial, Dad.”

  “I’m falling in love, Steve.”

  As he uttered the words, Larry knew they were true. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe the age difference was insurmountable. And maybe Crystal didn’t return his feelings. But, there it was.

  It was the reason he was putting Libby into perspective, into the past, in a sweet, warm corner of his heart where she’d stay forever.

  “I can’t believe this,” Steve hissed. “Is it about sex? Is that it?”

  “This conversation is over,” said Larry.

  “What are the odds?” Steve persisted. “You’re a bloody mathematician. What are the odds she’s in love with you-”

  “I never said she was in love with me. I said I was in love with her.”

  “Well, at least you’ve got that part right.”

  “Goodbye, Steven.” Larry crowded his son toward the door.

  “Protect your assets, Dad.”

  “You don’t know a single thing about her.”

  Steve put his hand on the doorknob. “Maybe not, but you can bet I’m going to find out.”

  “Don’t do it.”

  Steve’s gaze bore into his. “Afraid of what I might find out?”

  “I’m afraid you might hurt Crystal.”

  “Dad.” Steve’s sigh was pleading.

  “I’m an intelligent man, son.”

  “On paper, I know.”

  Larry drew back. What the hell did that mean?

  “Your social IQ,” said Steve. “It’s…”

  “Oh, don’t stop now,” Larry urged, his voice a low growl.

  “You know social interaction’s not your strong suit.”

  Maybe not in crowds, but it was perfectly fine with Crystal. “And you genuinely believe, through my social ineptitude, I’d let some gorgeous, young woman get her hooks in me?”

  “You’re only human, Dad. And you’ve been lonely since Mom died.”

  Larry paused for a moment. “You should meet her.”

  It was Steve’s turn to draw back. “Bad idea.”

  “Afraid you might like her?”

  “I’m afraid that’s exactly what she wants. To insinuate herself into your family life.”

  Larry drew an exasperated sigh. “I hope you change your mind. Because I won’t stop seeing her-not for you or anybody else.”

  Steve paused. “This could be an expensive lesson.”

  “I’m betting the lesson will be yours. I have good taste in women, Steve. I picked your mother, didn’t I?”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  A pain flicked across Larry’s chest. But it was weaker than before, less sharp. He was sad now, not devastated like he’d been for so many months and years.

  “It was,” Larry agreed softly.

  “Be careful, Dad,” said Steve, genuine caring evident in his eyes.

  “I will,” Larry promised, feeling the fight go out of him. “See you at Pocono?”

  Steve nodded, opening the door.

  AMBER WAS LATE ARRIVING FOR dinner. But when the kids bounced through the front door, Crystal breathed a sigh of relief.

  She was in the dining room with her mother, setting out stoneware plates and gold-tinted water glasses. Arms out, a whining engine noise sputtering from his lips, David rounded the brown, brocade couch, zipped past the magazine-covered oak coffee table and nearly careened into the china cabinet that straddled the dining room and living room.

  “Hi, Grandma. Hi, Auntie Crystal.”

  “How are you, David?” asked Crystal, happy to see him looking more carefree. Maybe she was blowing the Zane situation out of proportion.

  “I’m a fighter jet. One of the Blue Angels.” And he was off through the kitchen and down the hall.

  “We saw them on sports day,” said Jennifer. “They were flying over the football stadium at State.”

  David appeared in the living room again. “They went straight up in the air,” he whooped. “I’m going to be a jet pilot.”

  Crystal could almost hear Larry telling her there was a lot of math in flying fighter jets. She glanced at her watch, then surreptitiously checked the stove, wondering how long it would be before dinner got started.

  “Do I smell baked ham?” asked Amber, appearing in the dining room, a smile on her face. She looked a lot better than she had last night. Her eyes were clear, her hair was loose and freshly washed, and her makeup didn’t look as harsh as it had last night.

  “Grandma baked a chocolate cake!” Jennifer called from the kitchen.

  “Did I forget a birthday?” asked Crystal, wondering why her mother was pulling out all the stops. At the same time, she felt a little guilty that her mind was wandering to Larry when her mother had gone to so much work.

  Stella wasn’t normally the Susie-homemaker type. She had a cleaning service on Fridays, usually offered cold cereal for breakfast, ate lunch at the local diner, and was known to pop frozen entrées in the microwave several times a week.

  “Chocolate is your grandfather’s favorite, Jennifer,” said Stella.

  Crystal caught Amber’s eye, and they exchanged a curious look. Stella hadn’t spent a lot of her life doing little things for their father, either. It was more the other way around.

  Just then, Harold Hayes came in through the back door.

  “And how are my girls?” he asked heartily.

  “Grandpa!” Jennifer called, rushing to hug him.

  David zoomed in from the hallway, arms still out like airplane wings. “I’m not a girl,” he informed his grandfather.

  Harold rustled his hair. “Of course you’re not.”

  “I’m going to be a fighter jet pilot.”

  “Good for you.”

  “What’s in your pocket, Grandpa?” Jennifer sang.

  David bobbed his head up and down, eyes shining up at his grandfather.

  Harold made a show of searching through the pockets of his work pants. “Let’s see. Well, lookie here. Is that a…”

  “What is it? What is it?” the children cried.

  “Chocolate panda bear?”

  “Our favorite! Thank you, Grandpa, thank you.”

  “After dinner,” came Stella’s warning voice.

  “Can you put them beside your plates?�
�� asked Harold.

  Hands outstretched, the children eagerly nodded, and he handed them each a cellophane-wrapped chocolate panda.

  They scampered to their usual chairs at the dining-room table.

  “How are my big girls?” Harold asked Crystal and Amber, as he moved through the kitchen.

  “Fine, Dad,” said Crystal, giving him a peck on the cheek.

  “Fine, Dad,” Amber echoed. “How are you?”

  “Feeling great,” he beamed, giving Crystal yet another moment of confusion. Her father had always been the most easygoing of her parents. But he seemed almost unnaturally jovial tonight.

  Maybe they had good news. A big contract? An expansion of the business? Or maybe they’d finally decided to redecorate the house. Her father had wanted to close in the garage for years. Her mother had insisted it was a waste of time and money.

  “Will you open the wine now, Harold?” Stella’s tone implied it wasn’t really a question. “Crystal, the ham can be carved, and Amber can drain the vegetables. Kids, don’t forget to wash up.”

  Within minutes, dinner was on the table and the dishes were being passed around. Amber filled the wineglasses, while Crystal made sure the children didn’t drown their salads in dressing.

  “Kenny Carmichael’s son joined Softco as an apprentice,” said Stella, referring to their shop foreman.

  “He’s old enough?” asked Crystal. Last time she’d seen Wesley Carmichael, he was in junior high.

  “Graduated top of his class in pre-apprenticeship.”

  “That’s great,” said Crystal.

  “Nice to have some young people interested in a good career,” Stella harrumphed.

  Warning flags went off in Crystal’s head. Surely tonight wasn’t going to be a lecture about her joining the company. She’d make a terrible machinist. And she sure wasn’t going into sales or accounting.

  “How are things at Wendals?” Harold asked Amber. Wendals was the discount ladies’ clothing store chain where Amber was a shift supervisor.

  “Good,” said Amber with a nod, polishing off her glass of wine and reaching for the bottle.

  Crystal automatically checked other people’s glasses, finding most of them still full. She watched fatalistically as Amber refilled hers to the top.

  “Mr. Laity is still being a jerk about holidays,” said Amber. “And the new clerk is lazy, but at least they fixed the lunch-room fridge.”

  Her father’s gaze went to Crystal. “And how’s the book coming along?”

  “Three more interviews to go,” she told him. “I should see the cover design next month.”

  “Are you expecting any money from it?”

  “Not much,” she admitted. If she was lucky, it would pay out decently over the long term. But it wouldn’t be the kind of royalties that paid the rent.

  His lips compressed. “Hmm.”

  “At least she has Simon’s pension and life insurance,” her mother put in.

  Crystal didn’t say anything. Her parents had no idea she wasn’t touching that money. If she told them, they’d ask why. And that would open up an entire can of worms.

  Her parents exchanged a look.

  “What’s going on?” asked Crystal, glancing from one to the other.

  Her mother took a deep breath. “Your father and I are selling the business.”

  Amber froze, wineglass halfway to her mouth.

  Crystal gave her head a little shake, certain she couldn’t have heard properly. “What business?”

  “Softco, of course,” said her mother. “Kenny and a group of investors made us an offer. And what with Wesley joining the team and all…”

  Were they bluffing? Was this blackmail? Was it some kind of convoluted plot to get Crystal and Amber to become machinists?

  Her parents would never sell Softco. It was their lifeblood. Without it, well, they barely had an identity. They didn’t have interests or hobbies, or friends outside the Chamber of Commerce.

  “Our lawyer is working out the details this week. There’s a deposit in escrow, and-”

  “Wait a minute,” Crystal interrupted, setting down her knife and fork. “You’re serious?”

  Both her parents stared at her. “Of course we’re serious.”

  “But-”

  “We have our eye on a little bungalow in Florida,” said Harold.

  “You’re retiring?” Crystal felt compelled to confirm, feeling as though something had just tilted the earth off its orbit.

  Her family without Softco? It was almost incomprehensible. And what did that mean for her? She didn’t want to get selfish, but would Kenny keep her on as a parts driver? Would he let her stay in the apartment?

  “We’re retiring,” said her mother. “It’s been a lot of years of hard work. We had high hopes for you girls, but since that doesn’t appear to be-”

  “What your mother means,” her father put in, “is that now is a good time to sell. You girls don’t want the business, so we’re better off with other investments.”

  “What kind of investments?” asked Amber, her second wineglass now half empty.

  “Amber,” Crystal jumped in. “That’s none of our business.”

  Amber cocked her head, giving Crystal a glassy-eyed stare. “I’m just wondering what it means to us. Are we part of this windfall-”

  “Amber!”

  “Well, I’ve got kids to put through college.”

  “We’ll be making provisions for their college educations,” said Harold.

  Amber gave her a saucy sneer, and Crystal wished she could crawl under the table.

  “About this Florida house-” Crystal tried to steer the conversation away from Amber.

  “What about now?” asked Amber. “The kids have needs now.”

  “Don’t you mean Zane has needs now?” As soon as the words were out, Crystal regretted them.

  “Zane?” asked her mother.

  “Zane’s back,” Crystal said. “You can’t give Amber any money while he’s in town.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that,” Amber growled.

  “Jennifer,” Harold quickly put in, “Why don’t you and David go into the den. I’ve got a new DVD there for you.”

  “Which one?” asked Jennifer.

  “Can we take the chocolates?” asked David.

  “You can take the chocolates,” said Harold. “The movie is on top of the player. It’s a surprise.”

  The kids jumped from their chairs and scampered down the hall.

  Amber polished off her wine. “Zane’s changed,” she stated, with a frown for Crystal.

  “There’ll be some money in a trust for each of you,” said her father.

  A satisfied smile came over Amber’s face, while Crystal’s dinner turned to lead in her stomach. Amber would never get rid of Zane if there was money in the offing.

  “You can access it when you’re thirty-five,” Stella finished.

  Amber’s face fell. “What good does it-”

  “That’s very generous of you,” Crystal quickly put in, relieved on at least one front. On every other front, her life had just taken a hairpin turn.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I T WAS NINE-THIRTY BEFORE Larry’s cell phone rang. He had the new bed set up in his bedroom, along with crisp new sheets and a copper-colored comforter that brought out the wood grains in the oak bed.

  “Larry Grosso,” he answered out of habit.

  “Hey, Larry,” came her sweet, melodic voice.

  He smiled. He loved that voice. “Hey, Crystal.”

  “How’re you doing?”

  “Better now.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Dinner’s over.”

  Great. “Where are you?”

  “I’m in my car.”

  “On your way here, I hope?”

  “I’m on Springford, crossing the overpass. Your directions are perfect.”

  “Where’s Rufus?”

  “He’s with me.”
<
br />   “Good.”

  There was a thread of laughter in her tone. “You missed Rufus?”

  “If he’s here, we know he’s fed and walked.” They also knew Crystal wouldn’t have to leave early. In fact, Crystal didn’t have to leave at all.

  Her voice was husky over the phone link. “You read my mind.”

  “Oh, I hope so.”

  “Be there in ten minutes.”

  He didn’t want her to sign off. There was no reason they couldn’t keep talking. “How was dinner?”

  She gave a sigh.

  “What?”

  “My parents dropped a bombshell.”

  “Yeah?”

  “They’re selling the business.”

  “What business? Softco?”

  “That’s the same question I asked. Yes, they’re selling Softco. They’re moving to Florida.”

  Something twisted in Larry’s chest. “You going with them?”

  “No. I’m not going with them. I’m twenty-eight years old.”

  Damn. There it was. And it was worse than he’d thought. “You’re only twenty-eight?”

  “That’s plenty old enough to leave my parents.”

  He paused. “Crystal?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m fifty.”

  There was silence at her end, just the rumble of the motor and hum of the tires.

  “I guess it’s about time we stopped dancing around that,” he said.

  She still said nothing.

  “You have a problem with it?” he asked.

  “I’m still driving toward you. Why? You got a problem with it?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got a big problem with being the luckiest guy on the planet.”

  “I’m turning onto Alder. The light’s green. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

  Larry’s heartbeat deepened in anticipation. “Is Rufus going to need anything right away?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “I bought a new bed,” he told her. “Moved the old one into the guest room. Spent the whole day redecorating.”

  “For me?”

  “For you.”

  “I’m passing number three-fifty,” she told him.

  “Can you see my car? Under the streetlight?”

  “I see it. Three houses. Two.”

  Larry headed for the door and opened it. “I can see your headlights.”

  “I’m turning in.”

  “Watch out for the hedge.” He heard a scraping sound.