A Case for Love (17 page)

Forbes didn’t bother hiding his smile. While Meredith wasn’t aggressively competitive when it came to playing, as a spectator, she was a lot of fun to watch.

“So you don’t really feel like you’ve gotten to know her very well?” He persisted.

“Great strikeout, Jonathan. Two more to go.” Meredith took a swig of her cola. “She doesn’t talk about herself or her family much. She’ll talk about all the different places she’s been, about the restaurants she ate in, and her favorite sites, but there isn’t really anything personal in any of it. I’ve seen her around the office for three or four weeks and had lunch with her a few times, but I still don’t feel like I know her any better than I did that first night she came over to the house.”

“So she’s working out of the corporate offices?” Forbes kept his gaze trained on the ball field. Jonathan pitched low and outside to the batter.

“Yeah. Out of the office Rafe used when he was the company pilot.” When Jonathan threw another ball, Meredith turned her golden brown eyes on Forbes. “Why? Are you ... you’re not interested in her are you?”

“No.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick with his denial. Feigning a romantic interest in Evelyn might have been a good way to get Meredith to try to garner some information on the woman. “What I mean is, I’m not sure. I’ve only seen her a couple of times and she was ... well, you said it: closed off. I couldn’t get a good read on her, which is unusual for me.”

A clank from the field drew their attention. The ball sailed toward right field.

“Come on, baby, catch it!” Meredith stood and continued yelling at her husband as if that would help him catch the ball sailing in his direction.

Major must have misjudged exactly where the ball was, because he ended up having to dive for it, bounced it with the edge of his glove a couple of times, and finally got it to fall in for a catch.

Meredith pounded Forbes’s shoulder. “That’s my man.” She grinned and dropped back onto the bench. The entire set of bleachers wobbled. “Of course, I’ve been badgering him for weeks to go get his eyes checked. He’s having trouble with his depth perception, and I think it’s because he needs glasses. He thinks I’m just saying it to tease him because he’s almost forty.”

“He’s not almost forty! He’s only two months older than me, and we both just turned thirty-eight.”

Meredith stuck her tongue out at him. “In my book, that’s almost forty.”

“Yeah, well at thirty-five, you’re not that far away from it yourself, missy.” Forbes couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to just sit and joke around with his next-oldest sibling. They’d both been too busy—and she’d been spending all of her free time in the last six or so months working on her house or with Major, or both.

After Jonathan retired the batters from the other church—giving up only one hit—Meredith picked up their previous topic. “So you’re definitely not interested in Evelyn Mackenzie?”

He thought about fudging, then looked into Meredith’s eyes. He couldn’t. “No. Definitely not.”

“That’s a relief.”

He straightened. “Why?”

“Because I thought you were interested in ... someone else.” Her cheeks looked pinker than usual. But she had been out in the sun all afternoon.

“Someone else?”

She lolled her head to the side. “Alaine Delacroix. Major and I were talking the other day about how well we think the two of you would get along with each other.”

“And what prompted that conversation?” He tried to regain his casual air by once again leaning back on the bleacher behind them and stretching his legs out on the one below, crossing his ankles.

“Seeing the two of you dancing together on her show. I was impressed. I’ve never seen you dance so well.”

“That’s because I was taking a
lesson.
”

Alaine had aired the piece on Wednesday’s show. He’d only watched it four ... maybe six times since then.

“I thought Jenn was going to do that with you.”

Without going into the detail of Jenn’s trouble, he explained why he’d ended up dancing with Alaine instead. “Since Jenn had to back out, I convinced Alaine to be my partner for the remainder of the lessons.”

Meredith jumped to her feet and cheered as Kevin’s pop fly hit the grass between the center and left fielders, and he ran to first base. She sank back onto the seat, and the three people who’d been sitting down below them on the first bench got up and moved their blanket to the grass.

Forbes didn’t blame them. If Meredith got any more enthusiastic about the game, the whole contraption might just collapse.

“Did you know she minored in dance for a year in college?”

“Alaine?”

“Yeah. Before she changed her major to journalism in her sophomore year, she was majoring in art history and minoring in dance.”

A totally new image of Alaine Delacroix started to form in his mind—and a strange one, at that: Alaine, in a long, flowing gown—like the ones they always wore in the movies—swirling around with a paintbrush in one hand, a painter’s palette in the other, her hair up in a cascade of curls the way it had been at the magazine dinner, a smudge of paint on her cheek. He chuckled to himself.

“What’s so funny?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Just picturing Alaine as a dancing artist.” He shook his head to clear it. “What do Mom and Dad think of Evelyn? Do they seem to like her?”

“Woo-hoo, good hit, Jon!” Meredith once again leaped to her feet as their brother’s hit sent Kevin to third and landed Jonathan on second. Rafe stepped up to the plate next, and for the moment, Forbes gave up on trying to pump his sister for more information.

Forbes frowned, observing his brother. “Isn’t Rafe on the wrong side of the plate?”

“How have you never noticed this?” Meredith shook her head. “His high school baseball coach trained him to be a switch-hitter because most pitchers are right-handed and tend to throw fewer strikes against lefty batters.”

The depth of his sister’s baseball knowledge never ceased to amaze him. Of course, the only times he watched anything close to resembling baseball were the several times a year he came here to watch his family members play fast-pitch softball.

Sure enough, the pitcher walked Rafe; and Major entered the batter’s box with the bases loaded—with his own kinfolk, which did not go unnoticed by their entire fan base. A chant of “Guidry grand slam” went up all around them.

“When did Major change his last name to Guidry?” Forbes drawled, hoping to raise his sister’s ire.

“Oh, shut up.” She whistled again, nearly piercing his eardrum. “Come on, sweetheart! Bring the boys home.”

Major swung and missed the first pitch, then the next two hit the dirt in front of the plate. The opposing pitcher looked unnerved by the constant chatter from the three Guidry brothers on base behind him and by the Chapel crowd and their rhythmic chanting and clapping.

Even Forbes could tell that the fourth pitch would be perfect. Major swung ... and sent the ball over the fence behind left field. Meredith and the rest of the crowd yelled their approval. She jumped down off the end of the bleachers and ran around the end of the fence behind the players’ bench, where she threw herself into her husband’s arms as soon as he got back from running the bases. The kiss she gave him drew wolf whistles from the rest of the team.

If Alaine were as enthusiastic a softball fan as Meredith, Forbes might just consider taking up the sport.

Forbes checked his reflection in the visor mirror one last time. He smoothed his thumb over his eyebrows and checked his teeth—and the corners of his mouth to make sure he’d washed off all the toothpaste residue. He hadn’t been this anxious since the first time he stood up to give an opening argument before a jury.

A black Buick LaCrosse pulled into a parking space, leaving an empty slot beside the Jag. Forbes climbed out as if he’d just arrived and greeted Anne with a hug—which kept two other cars from pulling into the empty space next to his baby.

“So, did we miss anything important at lunch yesterday?” Anne slipped her arm through Forbes’s. They joined George on the sidewalk that ran the length of the dance studio building.

“Nothing at all. How’d the Father’s Day wedding go?”

“Went off without a hitch—once everyone in the bridal party showed up.” Anne twisted to exchange a look with George. They both laughed, and she turned her attention back to Forbes. “I didn’t see your folks at church yesterday morning. Did I just miss them?”

“Meredith said they decided they needed a weekend getaway, so they flew up to Boston.”

“Really? On Father’s Day?”

“Apparently Dad thought the best Father’s Day gift he could receive would be to get away from all of his kids. But it’s not like they don’t see us every week, anyway.”

“I wish I’d known they were going.”

“To Boston? Why?” Forbes opened the front door.

Anne dropped her arm from his and proceeded inside. Forbes motioned George to go in ahead of him, too.

“Because that’s where my father was from originally, remember?”

George joined Anne and took hold of her hand. “As soon as we have a free weekend, we shall follow Lawson and Mairee’s example and take a weekend trip up there. It’s especially nice in the autumn.” He lifted Anne’s hand and kissed the backs of her fingers.

Anne’s forehead knit in a worried frown. “I don’t know. It’s an awfully long flight.”

“You did fine from here to London and back.”

Her worry lines melted into a wry smile. “That’s exactly what I wanted you to think.” She gave him a quick kiss when he looked like he wanted to say more. “Besides, you know my rule. I won’t agree to fly anywhere until we go for three weeks without hearing about a plane crash somewhere in the world on the news.”

George looked to Forbes, who just shrugged. The fact that Anne had conquered her fear of flying enough to go to England for their honeymoon was a greater accomplishment than he’d ever hoped for his cousin.

Anne turned the subject. “Is Jenn coming after all? When she didn’t show last week, I thought you might be off the hook.”

“Jenn isn’t going to be able to do the lessons. She lost her restaurant manager, so she has to be there until she hires another one.” Which, since she had accepted Major’s offer to co-interview applicants for his restaurant with him, would hopefully be soon.

“But you’re supposed to have a partner for these lessons, so they could make sure everyone had someone to dance with at all times.”

“I know. I’ll have a partner, don’t worry.” He glanced around at the dozen or so people already in the lobby filling out paperwork—which they’d done last week. Alaine’s story must have drawn in a bunch of new customers. The petite newscaster wasn’t among them. Maybe she was already in the studio. He trailed Anne and George halfway down the lobby, then left them when Anne stopped to speak to her clients who’d come last week.

Only one of the older couples who’d been here last week was in the studio—along with Ruth and Ian. No Alaine. He looked at his watch. She still had almost ten minutes to get here.

He turned when a commotion from the lobby caught his attention. He lost all muscle control in his jaw. In walked Alaine in a snug, black top that displayed her strong, tanned arms, and a black skirt that accentuated the curve—and sway—of her hips and ended in a swirl at midcalf. She wore high heels again, making him wish the skirt showed just a bit more leg.

Stopping that line of thinking, he clamped his teeth shut and considered cutting through the crowded lobby to greet her. But something held him back. Several women fluttered around her, acting as if she were a famous movie star descended among them. And she was coming to him. Maybe not at this very moment, but she was here to be his partner; and everyone would see her come to him, take his hand, and give him her undivided attention for the next two hours.

The chirps of “Miss Delacroix, Miss Delacroix!” quickly faded when Ruth Arcenault stepped into the foyer and announced time for class to start.

So he didn’t block the doorway, Forbes stepped into the studio to wait for Alaine to come to him. He stepped forward when she entered. The flutter of young women—their sullen and bored-looking partners trailing behind—parted, eyes widening, whispering Forbes’s name and coming to the apparently obvious and surprising conclusion that
Bonneterre Lifestyle
’s Bachelor and Bachelorette of the Year were dating. He turned his amusement into a smile of greeting for Alaine, extended his hand, and, once she’d taken it, led her away from the tittering crowd.

“Anne, George, you remember Alaine.”

Anne’s eyes widened slightly at Forbes’s reintroduction. He kept his amusement in check. Unless he was sadly mistaken, the rumor that he and Alaine were dating would be making the rounds in Bonneterre—and his family—by week’s end. And other than serve as a boon to his ego, their fair city’s love of gossip about its highest-profile citizens would give Forbes and Alaine exactly the right amount of cover he needed while he figured out if her parents and their neighbors had a case or not.

Alaine shook hands with Anne and George. Her movement brought a hint of her fragrance to his attention—something both flowery and spicy. Alaine’s scent seemed to whisper, to beckon him to move closer to try to get another whiff. So different from the trumpet blast of Evelyn Mackenzie’s perfume, which announced her arrival before she could be seen, created a distracting noise while she was near, and left a lasting echo reverberating around the room long after she left.

Forbes clasped his hands behind his back to keep from either taking hold of Alaine’s hand again or putting his arm around her, a restraint he’d learned long ago from far too many female acquaintances who got the wrong idea of his feelings and intentions toward them because of his tactile nature.

Ruth Arcenault went through her spiel once again. Good thing Forbes had listened last time, as the occasional enticing whiff of Alaine’s perfume drove him to distraction.

When Ruth called for the couples to take their positions in two parallel lines, Forbes grabbed Alaine’s hand and led her out on the floor before anyone else could move. The sooner they got past this in-line stuff, the sooner he could hold Alaine in his arms again and surround himself with that magical scent—er, the sooner they could discuss any developments since their lunch last Wednesday.

The music started. Forbes counted in his head as Ruth counted aloud and demonstrated the steps.

“Now, you all try it.”

Forbes immediately and confidently stepped forward with his right foot. One. Slid the left out to the side. Two. Brought his right foot over to join it. Three. Back, one. Out, two. Together, three. Front, out, together. He wasn’t even frowning in concentration—okay, not much. He eased his expression with a slight smile. And instead of looking at his feet, he could actually look at his partner without losing the rhythm.

Alaine’s brows arched. “You’ve been practicing.”

He shrugged ... two ... three. “Not really.” Only every morning and evening in front of the mirror ... three. One ... two ... And whenever a three-quarter meter song played on whatever Internet or satellite station he happened to be listening to when in private ... two ... three. One...

“Well, I’m impressed, nonetheless.”

He gave her his most charming smile ... and lost the beat. Alaine’s nose wrinkled when she smiled big enough to show all her teeth. Could she get any more adorable?

Though he’d hoped that the intimacy afforded by dancing together would allow them to talk, Forbes found himself having to concentrate more on his footwork—and keeping his arms up and stiff and in the right positions—which stopped him from being able to keep up a conversation with Alaine.

Finally, though, their taskmasters called for a break. “There are snacks and beverages in the lobby courtesy of the Fishin’ Shack restaurant just up the road.”

“Annie, can you bring us a couple bottles of water?” Forbes held Alaine back from following everyone else into the foyer.

“Sure.” With her grin all lopsided like that, it meant she was thinking something that wasn’t necessarily true, but Forbes didn’t correct her impression.

Alaine followed Forbes to a row of chairs against the end wall of the studio. She tried to write off her shortness of breath to the fact they’d been waltzing nonstop for the past forty-five minutes. Yet it hadn’t really started until she found herself alone with Forbes.

He waited to sit until she lowered herself into one of the molded-plastic chairs. “Have you had a chance to set up a meeting with the Mills residents and business owners yet?”

“My parents are still working on getting something scheduled. They’re thinking it’ll be toward the end of the week—I hope you don’t mind its being last minute like this.”

He shook his head. “No, that’s fine.”

“What have you found out since we last talked?”

“I looked over the last six months’ worth of my parents legal files. There isn’t anything in them that leads me to believe they’ve done anything wrong or unethical. However”—he held his hand up to keep Alaine from interrupting—“I didn’t get a chance to speak to them this weekend as I’d hoped, because they decided to go out of town. My next step is to look into Mackenzie and Son a little further.”

Alaine sat a little straighter. “I did a little digging on them.”

“How?”

“Internet.” Where else would she have started? “They keep a pretty low profile. Other than their own Web site, which didn’t tell me anything, I found a few links to corporate reports where their names were mentioned—but most of them are password protected beyond just a brief, one-paragraph summary of what’s contained in the report. There are scant few mentions of them in any news outlet, either. And I called a contact at the newspaper in Boston to see what he might know about them, and he only knew of the company because he’s seen the name on a floor directory in the downtown office building that his wife works in.” She sighed and slouched in her chair. “I hoped I’d find some message boards somewhere with people posting nasty messages about how horrible they are and how they made a habit of running people out of their homes.”

Forbes leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “I could have told you it wouldn’t be that easy.” He stared at the parquet floor for a long moment.

She’d never noticed before that his hair had a bit of curl to it. Her hand spasmed with her unwilling desire to touch it to see if it was soft or wiry.

“No company that does business on such a large scale could keep
that
low a profile. What about the companies whose corporate reports Mac and Son were mentioned in? Did you look up any of them?”

Why hadn’t she thought of following through on those leads? “No. I didn’t think ... I didn’t have time to think about looking at them to see if I could find anything showing that they do this with every company they act as consultants for.”

He looked at her around his shoulder. “With your work schedule, when do you have time to do all this research?”

When she wasn’t in the film archive trying to find footage on his parents that would put them in a bad light for her story. “In the evenings, mostly. I spent a lot of time on it this weekend—when I wasn’t helping out in the flower shop, that is.”

“What flower shop?” Forbes sat up and turned slightly toward her in his chair.

“My parents’ flower shop. They had to let go of their last part-time employee, and since Mom had a couple of events she had to get flowers to, I helped out by working the shop while she made all her deliveries.”

“Do you arrange flowers?” The corners of his eyes crinkled up in a very nice way when he grinned like that.

She took a deep breath and clenched her teeth to keep from shivering at the tingle that ran up her spine. “I do some arranging. I did grow up there, you know. I spent every summer since I was fourteen working in the shop or the greenhouses.”

“What’s your favorite flower?”

“Lavender. It’s the national flower of Portugal.”

“Portugal?” The little upside-down Y appeared between his brows.

“That’s where my mom’s from. And it’s one of my favorite places to visit.”

The sound of a throat clearing snapped Alaine out from under Forbes’s enchantment. Anne Hawthorne Laurence stood over them, grinning, two bottles of water extended toward them.

“Thanks, Annie.” Forbes took them and handed one to Alaine. She was rather surprised he didn’t open it for her.

To cover her embarrassment at Anne’s knowing gaze, Alaine took a huge swig of the icy water—and inhaled half of it. She wheezed and coughed, throat burning, eyes tearing, and cheeks flaming from complete mortification.

“Take it easy there, girl.” Forbes patted her between the shoulder blades. It didn’t help, but the gentleness with which he did it brought the tingles back. She took a few gulping breaths and finally started feeling normal again.

That was, until Forbes stopped patting and started rubbing his hand in a circular motion on her back. “You okay?”

She pushed out of her chair at Ruth Arcenault’s entrance. “Looks like it’s time to get started again.” She tried to clear the raspiness from her throat with another drink of water. She went back to where she and Forbes had been stationed before, as the two lines formed again.

“To make sure both partners are really learning the steps and one isn’t just relying on the other...” Ruth walked down to the end of the line and laid her hand on Alaine’s shoulder. “Miss Delacroix, I’d like for you to go to the other end of the line, and the ladies will shift up to dance with the gentleman standing to her original partner’s left—your right.”