Tall Tales and Wedding Veils (16 page)

An hour later, Tony was at McMillan’s, stocking the bar, when Heather strode purposefully through the door. Her wild cascade of hair was pulled to the back of her neck in a barrette, but several strands escaped to curl down her cheeks.

She stopped in front of the bar, her fists on her hips, her voice low and angry. “Okay. Where is it?”

“Where’s what?” he said.

“My flatiron.”

Tony shoved a bottle of Johnny Walker Red onto the shelf. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It was in the drawer in my bathroom. And now it’s gone.”

“You must have misplaced it.”

“No, Tony. You may misplace things, but I don’t. It’s gone.”

“And you think I took it?”

“I
know
you took it.”

“Come on, Heather. When would I have had the chance to take it?”

“When I was cooking breakfast and you went to get your address book.”

Tony paused. “Oh, yeah. I guess there was time then, wasn’t there?”

Just then, Kayla came out of the kitchen and stopped short, her eyes going wide with surprise. “Heather. My God. What did you do to your hair?”

Heather spoke through gritted teeth. “This is what it looks like when I
don’t
do anything to it. Tony hid my flatiron. The man is weird. He likes my hair this way.”

“Well, yeah. He’s not blind.”

“What?”

“It’s gorgeous.”

“Oh,
please.
”

“No, really! Do you know how much it costs to get hair that looks like yours? Hundreds of dollars. Believe me, I’ve checked it out. It takes all these weird perm techniques, and you have to sit there for hours.”

“I’ll trade hair with you any day.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Kayla flicked her own hair. “Look at this. It’s thin. Lifeless. I’d kill to have hair with as much body as yours.”

Heather turned to Tony. “You know I’ll just buy another one.”

“And I’ll hide that one, too.”

“I
will
get you for this,” Heather said, and headed for the ladies’ room.

Tony couldn’t get over how different that hair made her look. Instead of uptight and repressed, she looked like the kind of woman who was wild and free and knew how to get crazy. Of course, before she could do that, she’d have to get over being pissed at him.

“She doesn’t see it, does she?” Kayla said.

“Nope.”

“Did you really hide her flatiron?”

“Yep.”

Kayla shook her head. “Bless her heart. She didn’t have a clue what she was getting into when she hooked up with you.”

Tony smiled. And he didn’t have a clue what he was getting into when he hooked up with her.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Heather pulled the elastic out of her hair so she could reposition it to incarcerate as much of it as possible. The instant she released it, curls cascaded around her face and tumbled over her shoulders.

Aaargh.
She
hated
it.

She’d never met anyone as presumptuous as Tony. It took a lot of nerve for him to go into her bathroom and steal something. Particularly something she needed as much as she needed that flatiron.

But as she started to gather it up to put the elastic back in, she remembered what he’d told her.
Mess yourself up, Heather. Do something crazy. Walk in the rain. Roll in the mud. Sing in the shower. Eat a Twinkie.

Well, the Twinkie was out of the question no matter what Tony said, but . . .

She stopped for a moment and stared at herself in the mirror, trying to see herself through Tony’s eyes. Could he be right? Was it really not as bad as she thought? Should she look at it from a different perspective now that she was a grown woman and not a gawky teenager?

She fluffed her hair with her fingertips, then shook her head, watching the curls bounce back and forth.

Nope. It still looked like a wad of tangled yarn.

She dropped her hands to her sides with a heavy sigh. Something was wrong here. Maybe it was all in the attitude.

She slid her fingers deep into her hair, tilted her head back and shook it, giving herself a heavy-lidded, come-hither look in the mirror.
You’re a wild woman. A wild, wicked, uninhibited woman who’s dying to take great big bite out of life.

She dropped her hands to her sides. Nope. Not working.

“Heather?”

Startled, she turned to see Kayla come through the door.

“Tony wanted me to let you know that a big party just came in.”

“How big?”

“I lost count.”

“Who’s on for the lunch shift?”

“Lisa’s at the bar, and Danielle and I are supposed to be waiting tables. And Danielle just called in sick.”

Heather quickly pulled her hair back and fastened the barrette around it, telling herself she’d get a new flatiron on the way home. And to ensure Tony never found it, she’d hide it behind a can of Ajax.

The crowd turned out to be an alumni group from Ohio State that descended on the place to watch the finals of the college World Series. In no time, four parties having quiet lunches turned into a room full of balding fiftysomething men who ate like cavemen and drank like sailors on leave.

Heather grabbed an apron and took care of the sports fiends, leaving Kayla to handle the other customers and Tony to meet and greet and help Lisa keep the alcohol flowing.

Three hours later, the men finally left. Half an hour after that, when everything was cleaned up and only a few customers remained, Heather collapsed on a barstool with a huge sigh of relief.

“Those guys were maniacs,” Tony said.

“Those guys were money in the bank. Pour me a Diet Coke, will you?”

“Coming up.”

Tony set the Coke down in front of Heather, and she took a long sip. “You know, if you contact groups like that one and offer them specials when certain teams are playing, you might be able to bump up traffic during your slow times. Why don’t I check out the sports schedules and the alumni groups who have chapters in the area?”

Tony had already thought about that once he saw the alumni party in full swing. But putting a strategy in place to get it done was another thing entirely.

“Sounds good to me,” he told Heather.

She picked up her glass and slid off the barstool. “Mind if I use your computer to start setting up a customer database?”

“You’ve worked yourself to death already today. Take a breather.”

“Nah. I just need to get off my feet for a little while. My fingers can still stay busy.”

Tony glanced over her shoulder. “Your busy fingers will have to wait. Look who just showed up.”

Heather turned around, and when she saw who was standing there, she considered making a run for Tony’s office and ducking inside until closing time.

Regina was here. And she had her fiancé, Jason, with her.

Chapter 14

H
eather!” Regina said. “How
are
you?”

As she gave Heather a phony smile and a pseudo hug, Heather thought,
There’s not a damned thing that’s real about this woman. Not one.

“Regina? What are you doing here?”

“We came by to see Tony’s place, of course. I was hoping you’d be here and that maybe we could—”

All at once, Regina’s hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes grew big and horrified as she stared at Heather. “Oh, my God!”

“What?”

“You poor thing! Didn’t you have time to do your hair this morning?”

Heather’s hand flew automatically to her head. She’d forgotten. And now it was official: she really was going to kill Tony.

Regina grabbed Heather by the shoulder and turned her so she could see the puffy lump of curls that resulted from her hair being pulled back in a barrette.

“Oh, my,” Regina said. “I haven’t seen it like this since high school!”

High school. You know. Where you were a big, ugly dork with hair like a Brillo pad.

Heather always worked hard not to react to anything her cousin said, but still a tight little ball of nerves gathered in her stomach, the same one she used to feel whenever something happened that made her feel as if she didn’t quite measure up.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a mess today,” Heather said, laughing a little and shoving a strand of hair away from her face. “I misplaced my flatiron.”

Regina turned to Tony, teasing her fingers through her own dark, silky hair. “Genetics is such an odd thing, isn’t it? Would you ever guess that Heather and I come from the same family?”

“Nope,” Tony said. “You two don’t look the least bit alike.” Staring at Heather adoringly, he reached up and opened her barrette. Her heart seized up. What the hell was he doing?

As her hair tumbled down her back, he picked up a strand and let it fall sensually through his fingers. “Heather has all these
beautiful
curls. As soon as I saw what she’d been hiding from me, I made her promise to wear it like this for me from now on.”

Heather held her breath. She knew what he was doing, but anybody with two functioning eyes could see what a mess her hair really was, so it was totally unbelievable that Tony would be smiling at her as if he worshipped her. They were going to be found out right then and there for the great big liars they were.

Heather glanced at Regina, cringing at the triumphant expression that was sure to take over her face very soon. But seconds passed, and all she did was look back and forth between Heather and Tony with a whole lot of confusion.

Then she shook herself out of her bewilderment and pasted her smile back on. “Tony, this is Jason Reynolds. My fiancé.”

The men shook hands. Tony smiled at Jason, but it wasn’t the people-loving grin he usually wore. Heather was pretty sure Tony smelled a rat, which meant he had very good instincts. Jason reminded Heather of those too-rich, too-handsome frat boys she’d known in college, who strutted around as if they owned the world. He wore a starched dress shirt and a pair of sharply creased slacks with his ever-present BlackBerry on his hip.

“Jason is an attorney at Reed, Randall and McCall,” Regina said. “Product liability. I’m sure you’ve heard about that suit against Dutton Foods for mercury poisoning? That’s the case he’s working on right now.” She leaned in and spoke confidentially. “It’s not going to be long before it’s Reed, Randall, McCall and
Reynolds.
”

“Regina exaggerates,” Jason said with a cocky smile. “But only a little.”

He and Regina laughed as if that were funny, never noticing that no one else in the vicinity joined in.

Heather heard a ring tone. Jason grabbed the Black-Berry from his belt and looked at the caller ID.

“Sorry, babe,” he said to Regina. “Gotta take this.”

He walked away a few feet, and Regina gave Tony and Heather a sad smile. “That’s the story of my life. I’m afraid I’ll just have to get used to having a husband who’s in constant demand.”

Why don’t you just go home?
Heather thought.
And take super-lawyer with you.

“So can you two take a break and have a drink with us?” Regina said, glancing around. “It looks as if you have a bit of a lull right now.”

“Uh . . . sure,” Heather said, hoping Tony was okay with it. “I guess we can spare a few minutes.”

“What can I get you to drink?” Tony asked.

“Hmm,” Regina said. “I think I’d like a glass of Pinot Noir.”

“Wouldn’t you know it?” Tony said. “We’re fresh out of Pinot Noir.”

“Oh. Well, a German Riesling maybe?”

“Sorry. No.”

Regina smiled brightly. “Maybe I should just look at your wine list.”

“No need,” Heather said. “I have it memorized. We have red, white, and pink. Which one would you like?”

Regina gave Heather a thinly veiled look of disgust, which pissed Heather off, since Regina was about as knowledgeable about wine as a bum in the gutter. She threw a few buzz words around to sound sophisticated, but she wouldn’t know a glass of Pinot Noir from cup of cherry Kool-Aid.

“Make it a martini instead,” Regina said. “You do have gin, don’t you?”

Yes, and I’d like to pour it directly into your lap.

“Scotch straight up for me,” Jason called out, and then continued his conversation.

“You two find a booth,” Tony said, “and Heather and I will get the drinks.”

As Jason and Regina walked off, Tony and Heather went behind the bar. Tony reached for the gin bottle. “You don’t mind if I add a little arsenic to her drink, do you?”

“No point,” Heather said. “Arsenic would only make her meaner.”

“Maybe I’ll just throw a bucket of water on her. She’ll melt. Problem solved.” He grabbed the shaker and filled it with ice. “I don’t like the way she talks to you.”

“I’m used to it.”

“So she does this all the time?”

“Ever since we were kids. But it’s her hang-up, not mine. She just has an inferiority complex.”

“Looks like a superiority complex to me.”

“Nah. People who know they’re good don’t have to put other people down the way she does.”

Tony stopped and stared at her. “That’s all very logical. But it still bothers you, doesn’t it?”

Heather turned away. “She’s always been the pretty one,” she said, pouring the Scotch. “She had a hundred friends. She was a cheerleader, for God’s sake.”

“And you were valedictorian.”

“Yeah, but there were times when we were growing up that I’d have traded every brain cell I had to look like her. Guess that’s
my
inferiority complex showing.”

“You have no reason to feel inferior to anyone.”

“Yeah, but Regina has a way of making it happen, anyway.”

Tony looked across the room. Jason had ended his conversation, but now he was poking away at that BlackBerry like a woodpecker on speed. Tony narrowed his eyes, and a calculating expression came over his face.

“Is Jason always doing something with that Black- Berry?”

“Constantly.”

“Does it piss Regina off?”

“Constantly. Not that she’d admit it, of course. To hear her tell it, Jason is a very important man. Of course he has to stay in constant communication with . . . you know, all the other important people.”

“So she makes excuses for the fact that he ignores her?”

“Yes.”

Tony put the drinks on the tray. “Let’s go have a chat with them, shall we?”

As they approached the table, Heather saw Regina give Jason a little poke in the ribs, and he set the BlackBerry down on the table. Heather had no doubt he took that thing with him to the bathroom, to bed, and when he died, they’d bury him with it.

Tony delivered the drinks, then stepped aside for Heather to slide into the booth before sitting down beside her.

“My mother was right,” Regina said, her gaze traveling around the room. “This place is so . . . quaint.”

Quaint.
Regina-speak for “ratty little hole-in-the-wall.”

“The beer posters are nice,” she said, crinkling her nose. “And what’s that above the bar? A boar’s head? Wearing a Ranger’s cap?”

“It came with the place,” Tony said.

“A dead animal,” Regina said, curling her lip to match her crinkly nose. “I suppose your customers like that kind of thing?”

“Yep. It’s a real conversation piece.”

“So tell me. How’s business? I’ve driven by a few times and seen quite a few cars in the parking lot.”

“So far, so good,” Tony said.

“The restaurant business is difficult. I’m glad to see you’re making a go of it.”

“To tell you the truth, Regina, I’d have fallen flat on my face if not for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Heather.”

“Oh, really?”

“See, I’m just the guy who smiles and shakes a lot of hands.” He turned to Heather with that same adoring look he’d given her earlier. “She’s the real brains behind the business.”

Regina blinked with surprise. “Well, then. I suppose it was fortunate you met her.”

“Yes. It was definitely my lucky day.”

All at once, Regina looked relieved. “Oh! So you needed somebody smart to help you run your business. That’s what drew you to Heather.”

“Oh, yeah. I do love smart women. But I’m a man, Regina. I hate to admit this because it makes me sound shallow, but it takes more than brains to make me look twice at a woman.” He gave Heather a smoldering look. “I have to feel the chemistry.”

Even though Heather knew it wasn’t real, Tony sold it so well that she felt a twinge of that chemistry herself. The question was, was he selling it
too
well? To the point where nobody would believe it?

“I’m sorry,” Regina said, laughing a little. “But that seems a little odd.”

Heather felt a quiver of apprehension. It was coming any minute. The accusation.
You two are in love? I don’t think so.

“Why does it seem odd?” Tony said.

“It’s just that I always imagined Heather marrying somebody a little more . . . well . . .”

Ugly? Average? Ordinary? Boring?

“Traditional. After all, she’s an
accountant.
”

“Yeah,” Tony said, staring at Heather again. “She is, isn’t she? And the first thing I thought when I saw her in Vegas was, ‘Sweetheart, you can check out my financial statements anytime you want to.’”

Oh, God. Now he’s taking this right over the top. Pretty soon this whole thing is going to come crashing back to earth.

But every word he spoke only seemed to cement their status as soul mates in Regina’s mind. She glanced at Jason, possibly hoping he’d practice a little adoration of his own. But judging by the way he was looking longingly at his BlackBerry, it was clear that to Jason, PDA stood for “personal digital assistant,” not “public display of affection.”

Tony draped his arm around Heather’s shoulders and pulled her up next to him, until they were tucked together like two little lovebirds, her thigh pressed against his, the back of her head against his shoulder. And Regina’s confounded expression said she was buying every bit of it.

“So you two met in that hotel in Vegas,” Regina said, “and you were married just hours later. Imagine that. Heather, where in the world have you been hiding all this spontaneity?”

“She didn’t have to be spontaneous,” Tony said. “I just had to be persuasive. I’m a man who knows what he wants. And when I see it”—he turned again and looked at Heather like
that—
“I don’t let
anything
stand in my way of getting it.”

“That’s exactly the way Jason felt about me,” Regina said quickly. “The moment he saw me, he wanted me.” She turned to Jason. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

“Uh . . . yeah,” Jason said. “Sure.”

Actually, there was some truth to that. Heather had heard from one of Regina’s other bridesmaids that she met Jason when he stumbled up to her at Chantal’s, told her she had a nice ass, and asked her if she’d go to bed with him. Regina told him to go to hell. Then somebody told her he was an associate at Reed, Randall & McCall making almost six figures, and suddenly he wasn’t nearly as crude as she’d originally thought.

“Oh! Heather, did I tell you we finalized our honeymoon plans?” Regina said. “We’re cruising from Miami to the Bahamas. Seven glorious days in the sun. We’re getting a suite with a balcony and a whirlpool tub, and . . .” She looked back and forth between Tony and Heather. “Oh, you poor things. I guess you two didn’t have much of a chance to take a honeymoon, did you?”

“We’ll take one eventually,” Tony said. “But it certainly won’t be on a cruise ship.”

“Oh, really? Why not?”

“Waste of money. We’d never leave the cabin.” He turned to Heather. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“But we could order chocolate-dipped strawberries from room service.”

“True. Think they’d send up a can of whipped cream to go with it?”