Overheated

CHAPTER NINE

AS CRYSTAL MUNCHED HER WAY through her morning cereal, she couldn’t decide which to put on the top of her worry list: her sister, her niece and nephew, or her burgeoning feelings for Larry.

She’d spent the weekend with a man.

She’d made love with him, and she’d have done it again had the date not ended abruptly. He was fun and funny, attractive and intelligent. And his sex appeal was off the charts. The men in her future were going to have one heck of a time measuring up.

If there were any men in her future.

At the moment, she couldn’t imagine herself with anyone other than Larry. Which led to an interesting question. Where did they go from here?

Since her disaster of a marriage with Simon, she hadn’t thought much about the future with any individual man. She’d had a generic fantasy in the back of her mind of a husband and children, a picket fence and a dog.

Her gaze strayed to Rufus where he was snoring on the living-room mat. He wasn’t what she’d pictured for the dog, but he was growing on her. And now she, astonishingly, had trouble imagining any other dog.

Just like she had trouble imagining any other man.

But Larry might not want more children. She knew Dean was in his late forties, so Larry must be fairly close to the same age. She hadn’t asked, because asking made it seem like it mattered, and it really didn’t. Except when it came to the tricky question of children.

Steve was completely grown up. He had a great career. He was engaged and about to embark on his own life. Heck, Larry could become a grandfather in the next few years. Why would he want to become a new father?

And, really, why on earth was she obsessing about this? They’d slept together one time. They’d had, technically, three dates. And here she was planning their happily ever after. Larry would probably break out in hives if he had the slightest inkling of the direction her thoughts were taking.

There was a shuffling noise on her porch as somebody reached the top of the stairs.

Rufus’s ears perked up, and Crystal rose in anticipation of a knock. Maybe it was Larry. And maybe she should wipe this stupid, dreamy expression off her face and behave like an adult.

“Crystal?” her mother called through the closed door.

“Hey, Mom.” She quickly wiped the expression off as her mother turned the knob to enter.

“You coming down to work today?” her mother asked without preamble.

Crystal nodded. “Sure. Something going on?”

Stella closed the door behind her. She was dressed in no-nonsense charcoal slacks with a pale-blue, Softco Machine Works collared shirt tucked into the waistband. She’d always tended toward stocky, but she was solid and healthy and still full of energy, even though she was in her fifties.

“Just the usual,” she said. Then her gaze went to Rufus, and she wrinkled her nose. “I came up on Saturday, but it looked like you were away.”

“I went to the race at Dover.” No sense beating around the bush. Amber had met Larry last night, and word would be out in the family by the end of the week. “With Larry Grosso.”

Her mother’s expression tightened. “I thought he was helping you with your cookbook.”

“We’re also friends.”

“Friends?”

“We like each other. We enjoy each other’s company.”

Stella’s face pinched in suspicion, but she didn’t voice the obvious question. “Your father and I wanted to talk to you.”

Crystal’s first thought was about Amber. Or maybe it was Larry. Then she had the horrible thought that one of her parents could be ill.

“Is everything okay?”

“Pretty much,” said Stella.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I want to talk to you later, with your father and Amber.”

“Mom.”

“You’ll just have to be patient. This curiosity of yours has always been a problem.”

“I’m not curious.”

Her mother frowned at her.

Crystal wanted to press further, but Stella was as stubborn as they came. Stella wanted a family conference, and she’d wanted to pique Crystal’s interest. She had.

“What time?”

“Six.”

“For dinner?”

“Of course for dinner.”

So much for her date with Larry. “Did Amber say yes?” On the bright side, at least it would keep Amber away from Zane tonight.

Then Crystal had another thought. “Are the kids coming?” She didn’t want any more marginal babysitting situations.

“I haven’t talked to Amber yet.”

“Make sure she brings them.”

Stella stared at her with a probing curiosity. But Crystal wasn’t about to crack. She could play things equally close to the chest.

After her mother left, Crystal went straight to the phone, dialing Larry’s number, which had mysteriously lodged itself in her brain. Funny, it usually took her weeks or months to memorize a number.

“Larry Grosso,” came his clipped greeting.

“Larry, it’s Crystal.”

His tone immediately softened. “Hey, Crystal.”

“Sorry to bother you.”

“What makes you think it’s a bother?”

She found herself unaccountably nervous. “Well, you weren’t expecting me to call…”

“I love it when you call.”

“You do?”

“Yes. What’s up?”

She cleared her throat. “My mother just invited me for dinner tonight.”

Silence.

“It’s some kind of family conference. Something big, or at least big in her mind. Amber’s invited, too.”

“Then our date is off.”

She sighed. “Afraid so.”

He was silent again.

“I’m sorry,” she quickly told him, putting all the sincerity she could muster into her voice. “Really sorry.”

“How late will it go?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Call me after?”

“Yeah?” She couldn’t help the almost breathless tone of anticipation.

“Yeah,” he assured her. “Call me as soon as you’re done.”

LARRY DIDN’T BELIEVE IN LUCK. He believed in hard, cold facts as proven out millions of times a day through the laws of physics and mathematics. But it sure seemed like fate was throwing a lot of roadblocks in his way when it came to Crystal. Given how anxious he was to spend time with her, and how interested she seemed in spending time with him, the law of averages said they should have gotten together more times than they’d managed so far.

If he was a superstitious man, he might be getting a little worried. But he wasn’t, and he wouldn’t, and he was going to finish redecorating the bedroom.

As usual, he’d been up since four. He’d hauled the guest bed down to the basement, moved Libby’s brass bed into the guest room, and was busy reallocating her touches to the living room and dining room.

She’d loved watercolors, where he preferred oils. The mauve and pink floral painting that had hung above their bed was now at one end of the formal dining room. He’d taken a pair of seascapes from the living room and put them on the wall of the bedroom. He’d found a massive, dark oak four-poster in an Internet catalogue this morning. It was being delivered from a local store at noon.

Libby had chosen a French provincial loveseat for their bay window alcove. Larry was replacing it with a pair of hunter-green leather armchairs. The dressers were fine, but the doilies and cut glass perfume bottles could be put away. And right now, he was heading for the hardware store to find a light fixture that would suit his new vision of the room.

“Dad?” Steve’s voice drifted up from the downstairs entry, and there was the sound of the front door closing behind him.

Larry quickly headed out of the master bedroom, hit with a sudden flash of guilt.

“On my way down,” he called over the railing.

He trotted down the stairs to see his son in the entry hall in a blue golf shirt and a pair of navy slacks.

“Where’s Heidi?” he asked, surprised to find Steve alone so soon after their romantic reunion.

“She’s at the vet clinic.” Steve frowned. “What’s this I’m hearing about you and Crystal Hayes?”

Larry slowed to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. “What is it you’re hearing?”

“That you spent this past weekend together.”

“Where are you hearing that?”

Steve took a step forward. “What does it matter?”

“It matters a great deal. I don’t like people gossiping about her.”

“About her? That’s what you’re worried about? What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you having a midlife crisis?”

“What the hell kind of a question is that?”

“You want a sports car, Dad? Because I can get you a sports car.”

“I don’t want a sports car,” Larry growled. He hated that his own son could write off his feelings as nothing more than some statistical hormone grasp at youth.

“You do know she’s younger than I am,” Steve accused.

No. Larry hadn’t known that. Quite frankly, he’d been afraid to ask. It shouldn’t surprise him. It didn’t surprise him. But, damn, it would have been nice if she was a respectable thirty-five.

“I want to know who’s gossiping about her,” he told his son.

“Everybody.”

“Well, everybody ought to get a life. We’re friends. We’ve been on two or three dates.”

“Dates?” Steve snorted his disbelief. “Uncle Dean thinks you’re sleeping with her.”

“My personal life is none of Uncle Dean’s business.”

“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.