Passion and Peril: Scenes of Passion / Scenes of Peril

Chapter Five

MAGGIE DRAGGED HERSELF up the stairs to her bedroom. The dance audition had been grueling. A sane person would take a hot shower and curl up in bed with a good book. But somehow she’d let Matt talk her into having dinner with him, as they’d planned the day before.

“Nothing fancy,” he’d insisted, with that little smile that could turn her to jelly.

Did he know? Could he tell that she’d finally succumbed to Matthew Fever? That was what Angie had scornfully called it back in high school when one after another pretty young girl had fallen prey to Matt’s charms and followed him around adoringly, sighing soulfully.

“Everyone gets it,” Angie had insisted.

“Not me,” Maggie had said.

Now she wondered if it were like other childhood diseases—much more dangerous if contracted when an adult.

She closed the door to her room and undressed quickly, slipping into her bathrobe.

There was a soft knock on her door, and she opened it cautiously, not wanting to get into another discussion with her mother about the pros and cons of an October wedding.

But it was her little brother, Stevie, who stood there, yawning as if he had just gotten out of bed.

“Morning,” he said, scratching his head, making his short dark hair stand up straight.

“It’s five in the evening. Don’t tell me you slept all day.”

“I cannot tell a lie,” Stevie said, a weak smile on his still-boyish face. “Your evening is my morning.”

“That’s pathetic.” She softened her words with a smile.

“I didn’t get home last night until noon,” he told her. “That is noon, as in this morning.”

“Are you kidding? Are you grounded for the rest of your life?”

“It was prom night.” Her brother grinned. “It was very wholesome. I went to two different after-prom parties, and there was absolutely no alcohol served at either one. I felt like one of My Three Sons. Believe it or not, it was fun. And I’m not hungover. What a bonus.”

“How’d it go with Danielle?”

Stevie rolled his eyes. “Great—if my goal was for her to still not realize that I’m alive.”

“It must run in the family,” Maggie said. “I know what you mean.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You can’t accuse the Brockster of not knowing you’re alive. He wants to marry you. What’s doing, Mag-oid? You got a boy toy on the side?”

Maggie smacked him on the rear with her towel. “None of your business, Dr. Love. Outta my way. I need to take a shower.”

“Be nice to me,” Stevie said. “I came here to warn you. I overheard the ’rents talking, and it sounds like Her Royal Highness, Queen Vanessa, is coming over for dinner tonight.”

“Oh, thank God,” Maggie said. “I’ve already got an excuse. I’m having dinner out with a friend.”

“Lucky you, you’ll miss that magic. Give a shout when you’re out of the shower.”

* * *

AS MAGGIE WAS putting the finishing touches on her makeup, the doorbell rang. It was only 6:18 p.m. She’d never known Matt to be early, but he was doing an awful lot of things differently these days.

She stood back and looked at herself one last time in the mirror. Jeans and a red tank top, sandals on her feet. Who’d’ve thought she’d ever wear something this casual to a dinner meeting with her new boss?

A boss she happened to have the screaming hots for. And that was something she couldn’t let happen. Talk about ways to destroy a friendship. And what would Angie say?

The doorbell rang again, and she clattered down the stairs, throwing the door open.

“Hi.” She smiled, expecting Matt.

Brock looked back at her, his arms filled with suitcases. Vanessa stood behind him, also laden with luggage.

Uh-oh.

Maggie’s sister never traveled light, but seven suitcases for a two-hour dinner...?

“My arms are breaking here,” Vanessa said, and Maggie stepped back, holding the door open for them.

Brock piled the suitcases near the stairs, smiling at Maggie. “Hey, kiddo.” His deep voice boomed in the small foyer. “Bet you didn’t expect to see me tonight.”

“No,” Maggie said faintly. “I didn’t.”

Stevie came down the stairs, his hair still wet from his shower. He stared from Van to Brock to the large pile of suitcases to Maggie. Uh-oh. He was thinking the same thing she was.

Maggie’s dad came out of the den and shook hands warmly with Brock. “Glad you could join us,” he said, then turned to Maggie. “Van told us Brock was giving her a ride over tonight, so we invited him to stay for dinner.”

“Oh.” Maggie looked back at Stevie.

He shrugged. “I didn’t overhear that part,” he mouthed to her. “Yo, Van,” he said out loud. “You planning to change your clothes between every bite of your roast beef?”

“I’m staying for a while.” Van’s voice sounded brittle.

“Oh, wow.” Stevie looked at Maggie again. They both loved their sister, but it was much easier to love her when she lived under a different roof. “What, is Mitch away on business or something?”

“Or something.”

Uh-oh.

The phone rang.

“I’ll get it!” Maggie and Stevie said in unison.

But their mother picked it up in the kitchen. “It’s for you, hon,” she called to their father.

“I’ll take it in the den.” He disappeared down the hall.

“Help me get this stuff upstairs,” Vanessa commanded.

“Yes, sir!” Stevie fired off a salute as Vanessa and Brock led the way. “She’s staying for a while,” he muttered out of the side of his mouth to Maggie.

“Matt’s going to be here any minute,” Maggie muttered back.

“Matt?” Stevie was delighted. “The friend you’re having dinner with is a Matt. Oh, boy.”

“Dinner’s almost ready,” their mother called from the kitchen.

“I’m going out. I’ve got a business dinner,” Maggie called back, loudly enough for Brock to hear. Except he was leaning close to Vanessa, listening intently to whatever she was saying.

“I can’t hear you with the water running!” her mother called back.

“What are you going to do?” Stevie whispered to Maggie. “I know—you could invite him to stay for dinner, too.”

“Bite your tongue!”

Stevie was laughing. “It’s the only solution. You know, this evening is turning out to be much more interesting than I thought.”

Maggie rammed Vanessa’s suitcase into the back of his leg.

“Ouch!” he yelped.

“Margaret!” their father shouted from the bottom of the stairs. “I want to talk to you. Now.”

Maggie froze, looking at Stevie. Uh-oh.

“God, what’dya do?” he asked, sotto voce.

“I’m almost thirty years old,” she whispered back. “Why do I feel as if I’m thirteen and I’ve left the basketball out in the driveway?”

The doorbell rang.

Uh-oh. “I’ll get it,” Maggie called, desperately trying to sound normal as she hurried down the stairs.

“I’ll help!” Stevie dropped Van’s suitcase and scrambled after her.

They both nearly crashed headlong into their father, who seemed to materialize out of thin air. He had on his fighting face.

“Maggie, that was just Bob Andersen on the phone,” he said. “He just happened to mention that you quit your job this morning!”

“Yo, Mags! Finally makin’ that rockin’ career move?” Stevie said approvingly.

“You did what?” Vanessa came down the stairs, followed closely by Brock.

The doorbell rang again.

“She quit her job at Andersen and Brenden.” Her father shook his head in disbelief.

“Will someone please answer the door?” Maggie’s mom came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“I’ll get it,” Maggie said again, hurrying to reach the door before her mother got there. She took a deep breath and pulled it open.

Matt was standing there, wearing his usual jeans and white T-shirt, his hair loose, looking like a dream date from a music video. “Hey,” he said with that smile that lit his entire face.

She reached for his hand and pulled him into the foyer. His smile turned to surprise as he saw her entire family staring at him.

“Everyone,” Maggie said in her best stage voice. “I’d like you to meet my new boss, Matthew Stone.”

“Oh, my God,” Vanessa said.

“Your new what?” Brock asked as he sized Matt up.

“Intense.” Stevie was impressed.

“Close the door, dear,” Maggie’s mother said, her voice faint with shock, “or bugs will come inside.”

* * *

MAGGIE SAT AT the dinner table, buzzing with nervous energy. How did this happen? She’d thought she’d been in control. She’d intended to stick to her plans and go out with Matt. After all, it was business, right? Instead, they’d ended up here, in one great big, hostile room.

She looked across the table and met Matt’s tranquil gaze.

Well, the entire room wasn’t hostile.

“You have how long to do what?” her father was saying as her mother passed Matt a plate heaped with mashed potatoes, vegetables...and a large slice of roast beef.

And he was a vegetarian. She opened her mouth to protest, but Matt caught her eye and shook his head very slightly, taking the plate with a graciously murmured thanks.

“We have a fiscal quarter,” he told her father. He seemed entirely at ease with the fact that everyone was staring at him. “And I’m not really sure what I have to do in order to inherit the business.” He smiled at Maggie. “That’s one of the things we’re meeting to discuss later this evening.”

“Let me get this straight,” Vanessa said. “You’ve actually hired Maggie to do...what?”

“She’s going to be both my lawyer and my business advisor,” he said.

Maggie glanced down the table at Stevie, who was looking at Matt in something akin to shock. Her brother looked at her, realization in his eyes and a rapidly growing grin on his lips.

Oh, damn. Stevie had figured out that Matt was the man who had come up in their earlier conversation. What was that phrase Stevie had used? Boy toy.

She looked down the table at her brother, promising him with her eyes that the wrath of Satan and the winds of hell would be nothing compared to her if he let this one slip. He smiled at her and made a zipping motion across his mouth.

Yeah, you’d better keep it zipped, junior....

“Maggie, aren’t you hungry? You haven’t touched your plate,” her mother said.

She stared down at her dinner, her appetite gone. Her stomach churned nervously at the sight of roast beef congealing in a puddle of gravy. “Um,” she said.

Brock slipped his arm around her shoulders and he gave her a squeeze. “You know how girls are,” he said. “Always dieting.”

Matt sent Maggie a disbelieving, amused look. She knew what he was thinking. Girls. Brock’s feminist awareness quotient was a shade lower than a Neanderthal’s.

And she really wished he wouldn’t touch her.

“I’m curious as to why you didn’t discuss Matt’s job offer with Brock before you took it,” Vanessa asked. “I mean, you are planning to get married, aren’t you?”

And now everyone was looking at Maggie.

But oh, my God, she was not going to turn Brock down in front of her entire family.

“Um,” she said.

Steve had his glass of milk in his hand, and Matt, who was sitting right next to him, elbowed him.

No one else saw it. Just Maggie.

But the milk went everywhere. “Whoops,” Stevie said as Vanessa jumped up to avoid getting drenched.

“Clumsy me,” Stevie said as Maggie’s mom ran for the kitchen towel.

Matt threw his napkin down to start soaking up the spill. He looked up at Maggie and smiled as Stevie kept on making noise. “Wow, how did that happen?”

No one was looking at her anymore. Thank you, she mouthed silently to Matt.

He blew her a kiss.

Which Vanessa, unfortunately, saw.

“Didn’t you date Maggie back in high school?” she asked Matt after the worst of the spill was cleaned up and they were all sitting back down.

He shook his head. “No. I went out with Angie. You know, Caratelli, off and on for a couple of years.”

“But you wanted to date Maggie,” Vanessa persisted. She laughed. “Date being the euphemism that it is in high school.” She looked at her brother. “Right, Steven?”

“Has anyone seen the new James Bond movie?” Stevie asked brightly.

“Am I right or am I right?” Van asked Matt.

“Van,” Maggie said. What was her sister doing? As if Brock weren’t already prickly enough just at the sight of Matt. “Don’t.”

“Matthew’s not denying it,” she pointed out. She’d had far too much to drink tonight and Maggie’s heart broke for her. Her mother had pulled her aside to report that Van was home because Mitch had made it official. He was filing for divorce.

Maggie met Matt’s eyes again across the table, and the look on his face was...

God, was it actually true? Matt had wanted to go out with...

But...

“I was seventeen,” Matt said to Vanessa. “I wanted to date everyone.”

Maggie stood up. Enough already. “We have to get to work.”

“For the record,” her father said. “I’m not happy about this job change.”

“For the record,” Maggie said, “I am.”

* * *

MATT LEANED AGAINST the Maserati, watching Maggie say good-night to Brock, who was going to stay and keep Vanessa company for a little while longer.

He clenched his teeth as he watched the other man kiss Maggie. True, she turned her face away so that first kiss landed on her cheek. But Brock was a persistent bastard, and...Matt had to look away.

He jumped slightly, surprised to see Stevie leaning next to him. He hadn’t heard the kid approach.

“So. You’re a millionaire.”

“Not quite.” Matt glanced at Maggie. She’d pulled away from Brock, but he still held her hand.

“Answer me honestly,” Stevie said. “Are your intentions toward my sister honorable?”

Matt looked at Stevie in surprise. The kid was already as tall as he was, but he was lanky with that big-boned pony look that teenage boys so often had. He wore his dark hair buzzed at the back and sides, with a long lock of curls in the front that flopped down over his eyes. His face was just starting to lose its boyish prettiness as he began to fill out.

“I guess that’s not really my business, is it?” Stevie continued with a shrug. “You know, she’s as much as told me that she’s not going to marry the Blockhead.”

“She did?”

Stevie smiled. “Yeah, well.” He imitated Brock’s deep voice. “You never know with girls. They’re always changing their minds.”

Matt laughed. “God, he’s a jerk.”

“Who’s a jerk?” Maggie said, joining them.

“No one,” Matt and Stevie said in unison.

“Oh, great,” Maggie said, looking at their matching Cheshire cat grins. “That’s all I need. You two as cohorts. As if I didn’t know who you were talking about. Come on, Matt. Let me grab my briefcase from my car, then we can go.”

“Have fun,” Stevie said. With his back carefully to Matt, he dropped her a wink that was loaded with meaning.

Maggie let her own smile drip saccharine. “You have fun, too, Stevie-poo. Maybe if you’re lucky you can get Vanessa and Brock to play Monopoly with you.”

“Sounds real neat, but no,” Stevie said. “I’ve got plans. I’m going to go drive past Danielle’s house, oh, twenty-eight, twenty-nine times.” He glanced at Matt. “Unrequited love.”

Maggie got into Matt’s car as Stevie leaned over to look in the window. “Maybe you can offer me some advice,” he said to Matt, “you know, with the wisdom of your great age and all. There’s this girl, see?”

“Danielle,” Matt clarified, looking up at Stevie.

“Check. She’s the most fabulous, beautiful, wonderful... Well, you know. But she doesn’t think of me as a guy. We’re friends, that’s all.”

Maggie leaned forward to look out Matt’s window at her brother. “Just go knock on her front door and tell her that you love her, for crying out loud!”

“Oh, no way,” Matt said.

“God!” Stevie reeled back in shock. “That’s very uncool.”

“Yeah, and potentially humiliating,” Matt said. “If I were you, I’d take my time. Go slowly. You know, don’t scare her away.”

“Meanwhile the captain of the football team takes the more direct approach and ends up taking her to the prom,” Maggie said.

“Oh, no.” Matt cringed.

“Oh, yes.” Stevie nodded. “Pathetic, but true. And on that cheerful note, I’ll bid you good night.” He vanished into the shadows.

Matt glanced at Maggie. “Your little brother isn’t so little anymore.”

“Scary, huh?”

He started the car, shaking his head. “Sometimes I wish I could be eighteen again. Man, what I’d give to be able to go back and do it over.”

Maggie groaned. “Not me. Once was enough, thanks.”

He pulled out of the driveway. “There are definitely some things I’d do differently.”

“Like what?”

“Like, I wouldn’t start smoking. I wouldn’t drink or do drugs. I would’ve taken better care of myself.” He glanced at her. “I would’ve asked you out.”

Maggie looked back at him, but now his eyes were firmly on the road. Vanessa had been right. Matt had wanted to date her in high school. Date. Right. Wow, she’d never known. “Why didn’t you?” she asked.

He glanced at her with a smile. “Would you have gone out with me if I had?”

“No.” Her loyalty to Angie had been too strong. She never would have risked that friendship. Even for... “Matt, to be honest, I never thought of you as anything but a friend.”

Ten years ago. Now she was aware of him to the point of distraction.

He smiled at her again. “That’s why I never asked you out. I wasn’t a big fan of rejection.”

They rode in silence for a few miles, then Maggie said, “I’m sorry about dinner. Are you sure you still want me to work for you? It’s obvious that insanity runs rampant in my family.”

He just laughed. “And it doesn’t in mine?”

He was pulling into the parking lot of Sparky’s, the town watering hole. “What are you doing? Why are we...? You don’t drink anymore. Do you?” she asked.

“No, I don’t,” he said. “But you do. And after that dinner you definitely need something with a kick.”

“Roast beef,” Maggie shook her head. “I can’t believe my mother served roast beef to a vegetarian. Why didn’t you let me say something?”

He pulled her out of the car. “Because people tend to feel embarrassed and rejected when you don’t take what they offer for dinner. I took the plate and didn’t hurt your mom’s feelings.” Still holding her hand, he led her across the parking lot and into the dimly lit bar. “But I didn’t eat the meat. It’s an old trick I learned in California. Cut it up and move it around the plate and no one notices that you didn’t eat it. Everyone’s happy.”

Maggie hadn’t been inside Sparky’s in close to seven years, but the place hadn’t changed. It was dark and it smelled like a frat-house basement.

Matt pulled two stools out from the bar, then stepped back so Maggie could climb up. He sat next to her, pulling his stool so close that his thigh brushed hers. He caught the bartender’s eye. “Coupla drafts.”

The touch of his leg against hers was making her crazy. Matt had never been careful with her personal space, constantly draping an arm around her, often coming up behind her to massage her shoulders or braid her hair.

His casual, friendly touch had always been part of the package. True, Maggie had heard tell that a friendly backrub had at times led to far more friendly activities, but she had never been subject to his amorous advances.

Or had she? Maybe she’d been too naive to realize....

He leaned against the bar and his shoulder grazed hers and she nearly jumped off the stool.

The bartender slid two foaming mugs of beer in front of them, and she gratefully took a long swallow. And risked a look at Matt.

His elbows rested on the bar and his T-shirt was pulled tight across his strong back. He was watching her, his face shadowy in the weak light, his eyes reflecting the yellow of a neon sign. It made him look otherworldly and alien, reminding her that he was in some ways a stranger, after all that time away.

Ten years ago, she never would’ve dreamed of kissing Matthew Stone. Tonight, she was having trouble thinking about anything else.

Maggie remembered her own words, spoken only minutes before to Stevie, realizing how impossible her advice had been. There was simply no way on earth she’d ever be able to turn to Matt and tell him that she was falling in love with him.

But she was.

But she couldn’t. What would Angie say if she knew? What would Matt say?

She stared morosely into her beer, taking another sip and feeling its coolness and accompanying warmth course through her.

Matt drew lines in the frost on the outside of his glass of beer. His glass of beer? What was a guy who’d been in a detox center three years ago doing with a glass of beer?

“You’re not going to drink that, are you?” she asked.

“No.” Matt laughed. “I’m not an alcoholic, despite what you heard from Dan Fowler today. I don’t drink because I choose not to, not because I can’t.”

He met her gaze steadily, and she felt herself blush. “I’m sorry.”

What had happened to him three years ago? She wished he would talk about it, but he didn’t. And she was afraid to push.

He reached over and pushed her empty glass toward the bartender, then slid the full glass in front of her. “I ordered this for you. Let’s go play pool.”

“I thought we were going to talk business.”

“I’d rather play pool. We can talk business tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” she said. “I’m having dinner with Brock.”