Project Seduction Page 6

  "All right.” Rick tucked the covers down.

  "Andy was supposed to leave you a note,” Georgina told him.

  "I've got it right here.” Rick held up the crumpled sheet of paper.

  Georgina watched his fist clench around the note. From the corner of her eye, she caught a movement as Andy rolled over to her stomach and buried her face in the pillow.

  "Baby, can you wait here while I talk to Georgina?” Rick asked his daughter. “Then I'll come and get you, and we'll go home."

  Andy didn't lift her face from the pillow. “Sure, Dad.” Her voice came out muffled, and her shoulders heaved.

  Rick straightened in a motion that made Georgina think of an uncoiling predator. He said nothing to her, but pointed silently to the door. When Georgina didn't move, he walked up to her and grabbed her arm. Ignoring her resistance, he pulled her into the living room.

  "I think you owe me an explanation,” Georgina said.

  "No.” Rick's voice was harsh. “You owe me an explanation.” He pushed the crumpled note at her.

  Georgina took it from his hand. The paper rustled as she smoothed it down with jittery fingers. She lifted the note and scanned it, and then she read the words again more slowly. A cry erupted out of her mouth. It began as a squeal of horror, but quickly gained volume and turned into a scream of fury.

  Dad,

  Gone to spend the night with Georgina. Back after breakfast.

  Love,

  Andy

  PS. What's a lesbian?

  Rick took a step closer. “If you've as much as laid a finger on her—"

  "Don't be so bloody stupid,” Georgina yelled.

  Rick glowered at her. “Simmer down. Angelina can hear you."

  "This is my house and I shout if I want to."

  He grabbed her by the upper arms and shook her. “Didn't you hear me? Keep your voice down."

  "I heard you, but that doesn't mean I have to obey you.” Georgina yanked herself loose and began to pace up and down the room. She threw Rick a murderous look, but she lowered her voice. “I knew there are men who can only think with their dick, but this is the first time I've seen a real life specimen. Did you really believe I'm a lesbian out to take advantage of your daughter?"

  Rick shrugged. He looked less fierce now, but the expression on his face remained uncompromising. “I didn't know what to believe."

  "I guess that's because I've not thrown myself flat on my back and spread my legs every time I've seen you,” Georgina ranted on.

  "You thought I was a pedophile."

  "That was different. I saw you grabbing at her. My suspicion was based on evidence."

  "Evidence that you had misinterpreted."

  "But it was evidence that any responsible person should have felt compelled to act on."

  Rick frowned. “And how is this different?"

  "Because your precious daughter is pulling your strings, that's how. She did it on purpose."

  "What do you mean?” A hint of uncertainty crept into his voice.

  "Andy's a smart girl. Her vocabulary is probably bigger than yours. She would know the meaning of the word lesbian. But she would also know that you'd leap into all kinds of stupid conclusions and go berserk."

  Rick lifted a hand and rubbed the flat of his palm over his hair. “I can't believe she'd do that."

  "Of course she would,” Georgina told him. “Didn't you see how she was stuffing her face into the pillow to keep herself from laughing?"

  "But why would she do it?” Rick said in confusion.

  Georgina pursed her lips. Men were such tedious creatures, the way you had to explain everything to them. “Because she thinks she's one smart cookie, and she thinks she has us pigeonholed. I'm the prim spinster, and you are the tough macho man. She likes to toss us in the ring and see who comes out on top."

  When Georgina heard what she'd said, the literal image of the last few words flashed through her mind. Blood surge to her face. “That's what I believe, anyway,” she finished lamely. Then she turned away to hide her embarrassment.

  "I can't believe she'd do something like that,” Rick said, totally bewildered.

  "Trust me. She would. Don't you see how smart she is? She hasn't even done anything you can punish her for. She didn't lie. She just dropped a vague hint. You picked it up and ran with in, just as she intended. You charged into my apartment, ready to throttle me."

  "Son of a bitch,” Rick said, and shook his head in reluctant admiration.

  "Not a son. Daughter. You've spawned a mischievous little devil who is far too smart for her own good. I wish you luck for the rest of your life, and believe me, you'll need it. Now go scoop up your precious offspring and get the hell out of my house.” The last few words came out on a distraught cry.

  "Hey, easy now,” Rick said softly. He stepped closer and ran his hand along her arm in a soothing gesture.

  Georgina let out an angry huff and slapped his fingers away. “Could you leave now, please?"

  "Dad, is Georgina upset? I didn't mean to hurt her.” Andy stood at the entrance to the living room, looking contrite. “It was just a joke."

  "I think you went too far this time, honey.” Rick's voice was tired. “We'd better go home.” He turned to Georgina and examined her face. “Will you be okay?"

  Georgina gathered every shred of pride and met his scrutiny. “I'll be fine. As soon as you get out of my sight."

  Rick stared at her for a few more seconds. Then he gave a brief nod. Without another word, he stalked out of the apartment. Andy scampered after him, casting an anxious glance over her shoulder.

  After they were gone, Georgina sank on the living room sofa. She sat there for a long time, completely still. Then she covered her face with her hands and burst into desperate sobs.

  Funny, she thought as her body heaved and her throat burned. I don't even know what I'm crying for.

  Andy gazed up at her father. She tried to hide her fear, but everything inside her was shaking. She desperately wanted to pee.

  "What are you up to?” Rick demanded.

  Andy said nothing. She clamped her lips together, so that they wouldn't quiver and betray her feelings.

  Rick yanked a chair from the kitchen table, turning it around and shoving her into it. Then he hunkered down in front of her, his hands clasping the arms of the chair, caging her in. It felt to Andy as though his eyes were burning a hole right through her.

  On the table behind them, a glass he'd knocked over when moving the chair rolled along the top. The spilled orange juice began to trickle down. Andy could hear the dripping sound. She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined a sticky yellow puddle forming on the floor behind her.

  She really had to get to the bathroom, or she'd pee in her pants.

  "I asked you a question,” her dad thundered.

  Andy's eyes flew open. She swallowed a couple of times. It was a surprise to her that she could speak at all, let alone in a bored tone that sounded as though she didn't care at all. “It's no big deal, Dad. It was just a joke."

  "And what exactly was funny about it?"

  Andy lowered her gaze and kicked at the chair legs with her bare feet, trying to think of something to say. How could she have miscalculated so badly? All she had wanted was to make Georgina and Dad talk to each other again. Instead, they had ended up trying to tear out each other's throats, like a pair of rabid dogs.

  "I thought you were angry at Georgina because she called you a pervert,” Andy said finally, letting her eyes venture upward along his chest.

  "So you decided you'd get me to call her a lesbian?"

  She peered at him through her lashes. “I didn't tell you to call her anything."

  "Don't pull that shit on me. You knew what would happen."

  An inspiration hit her, and she latched on to it, without stopping to evaluate its merits. “I thought that if you called her a lesbian, after she called you a pervert, you would be, like, even. Then you could shake hands and be friends again."


  "Shake hands, huh?"

  "Yes.” She beamed at him, pulling her lips into a crescent that made dimples in her cheeks. “I want Georgina to be my friend, and she can't be my friend if you are fighting with her."

  "You want to be her friend, huh?"

  "Yes.” Andy squirmed in the chair, trying not to let on that she knew she was out of trouble. When her dad started repeating her words back to her, it meant he was amused. And if he was amused, he could no longer be mad at her.

  "Why's that?” Rick asked her.

  "Because she makes tea in cups that are made of bones and have piglets and cows on them."

  "Is that so?"

  "And she told me how her mom and dad both died in a car wreck when she was real small, and she went to live with her grandma."

  "She told you that?"

  "Only because I asked. She sounded sad when she talked about it, but then she told me that she loved her grandma, although I don't think I would have."

  "You wouldn't?

  "Uh-oh.” She shook her head resolutely. “Her grandma made her wear dumb clothes, so that the other kids made fun of her."

  Rick pursed his lips and looked thoughtful.

  Andy glanced at him and judged the crisis over. It always amazed her how grown-ups fell for the cutie-pie act. Cups made of bones with piglets on them—right, like she was some dumb five-year old.

  It was time to get back to work on her plan, now that she no longer needed to fear that her dad would go nuclear. “She likes you,” Andy said.

  "Who?"

  "Georgina. She likes you."

  "Likes me?” Rick's brows knitted together. “You've got to be kidding."

  "Nope. Her face went all pink when I talked about you."

  "It was hot in her apartment."

  "And you like her too."

  His frown deepened. “What makes you think that, pumpkin?"

  "I saw you ogling at her legs."

  "I did not."

  "You always do that. You always ogle at girls in mini-skirts at the mall."

  "Don't push your luck, honey. You're in enough trouble already."

  "Sorry, Dad. I didn't mean it.” Andy clasped her hands behind her back and crossed her fingers to protect herself against the lie she was about to tell. “I told Georgina you're teaching me to shoot a handgun.” She gave him a crafty look. “You could teach her too."

  "Did Georgina suggest that?"

  Andy took a deep breath before she answered. It was cool that her dad was a cop, but the problem with cops was that they were trained to tell when someone was lying.

  "I promised her that you could. She said I should ask you."

  Rick shook his head slowly. “I'm not sure it's a good idea. I might end up shooting her."

  "Come on, Dad. Do it. It'll make up for calling her a lesbian."

  He reached out and patted her arm. “All right. I guess I could do it. If Georgina wants to, and if it makes you happy."

  "Thanks Dad.” Andy leapt out of the chair and collided into his wide chest, secure in the knowledge that his strong arms would wrap around her and keep her from falling.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Five

  The following morning, Andy tidied up in the kitchen while her dad was still asleep. Then she put on a load of laundry. While the tumble-dryer churned around, she tiptoed up to his bed. “Dad, are you awake?"

  The unintelligible grunt made her smile. He slept on his stomach, one arm tucked under his head, one leg thrown out and bent at the knee. Recovery position. Andy's smile faded as she recalled the countless times she'd arranged her unconscious mother's body in the same way on the floor in one of the hovels they'd lived in, until they were evicted and had to move again, each time to somewhere a little worse.

  Her aunt had shown her how to do it. First check the pulse across her mother's wrist. If there's no pulse, call an ambulance. If the pulse is steady, place her limbs like this and let her sleep it off.

  Shuddering, Andy moved away from the bed. She refused to think about it now. It wasn't fair for a child to have to look after an adult. She'd left it behind. She wouldn't let the niggling guilt of abandoning her mother that she kept hidden from everyone else ruin the happiness of her new life.

  She drifted into the living room. It was much smaller than Georgina's. The hardwood floor was bare of rugs. The furniture was sparse and functional. A black leather sofa with a matching recliner filled the center. Opposite the window, a tall bookcase covered the entire wall. Some of the shelves contained neatly labeled files. The rest were empty, except for a stereo system, and a computer with a monitor that doubled up as a TV screen.

  When Andy first moved in, her dad took her to a department store with a display of flowered bedspreads and frilly cushions. He invited her to pick out a few things to brighten up the apartment. She refused to buy anything at all. She loved everything just the way it was. It was like her dad, strong and safe and reliable. The floor was shiny and clean. Never again would she need to check for pieces of broken syringes before walking around in her bare feet. The shelves were bare of clutter. Never again would she need to shift through piles of trash to find a take-away container with half-eaten food that was the source of an awful rotting smell.

  Andy crossed the room to the bookcase and reached for a file with green covers. She lowered it to the floor. The letters inside were organized by date. Some had little notes clipped to them, carrying comments written in her dad's untidy scrawl.

  'Huston, Skillings, Pendleton’ it said on top of each letter. An ornate line made a box around the three names, turning it into a logo. Andy frowned. Why didn't it say ‘and’ between Skillings and Pendleton? That was the way Miss Chalmers thought them in the English class. What was the point of learning any rules, if the rest of the world didn't follow them?

  Selecting a letter halfway down the pack, a short one with no comments stapled into it, Andy flipped the file open and carefully detached the single sheet of paper. Then she returned the file on the shelf and glanced at her watch. It was a hand-me-down from her dad. It was wider than her wrist and chafed her skin, but she'd refused his offers to buy her something different.

  Almost nine. She'd give Gina another fifteen minutes. Nine o'clock wasn't too early, not even on a Saturday morning. Clutching the letter in her hand, Andy burrowed down in the recliner and waited.

  * * * *

  The sound of the doorbell tore Georgina out of her fitful sleep. She opened her eyes. They stung, and when she swallowed her throat felt like sandpaper. Slowly, she pushed herself up and made her way out to the hall.

  "What do you want now?” She shouted the words through the door without bothering to open it.

  "It's me. Andy. I've got the letter for you."

  Georgina rubbed her puffy eyelids. “What letter?"

  "A letter from the lawyer. With the address."

  "Oh.” Georgina fumbled at the lock. “Here. Give it to me.” She opened the door a few inches and stuck her hand out through the crack.

  "Can I come in?” Andy didn't hand over the letter.

  "It's not a good time."

  "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine."

  "You sound croaky."

  "I've got a sore throat.” She'd be damned if she told the nosy child that she'd been up half the night sobbing over something she couldn't even understand.

  "It's the dry air,” Andy said. “Your heating's on too high."

  "I've turned it down. The air conditioning is supposed to be on."

  "Sometimes the dial gets stuck. I might be able to fix it for you. Do you want me to come inside and take a look?"

  "Oh, all right.” Georgina sighed and stepped out of the way. It had been a wasted effort trying to hold off the girl anyhow. Andy had a talent for wearing down resistance.

  "Here's the letter."

  Georgina took the sheet and glanced at the logo on top. The name sounded familiar. She had hoped for that. Pacific Ba
nk specifically targeted SMEs, small and medium sized enterprises. It had been a good bet that the law firm Rick Matisse used might be amongst the bank's clients.

  She folded the letter and slipped it into the side pocket of her briefcase. Her face grew hot when she saw the Project Seduction flowchart. Damn. Was this going to be the first time in her life she'd have to give up on a goal she had set? Not only set, she recalled with dismay, but documented in writing, and announced out loud to Annabel.

  Georgina shoved the briefcase out of the way. It bounced against the table leg, making her keys rattle in the ceramic bowl on top. Andy was fiddling with the heating controls mounted on the hallway wall. “Can you fix it?” Georgina asked.

  "Maybe.” Andy shot a quick glance over her shoulder. “I'm real sorry about last night. And my dad is sorry, too."

  "Forget it,” Georgina muttered. She tried not to think about the way she'd yelled at Rick, suggesting that he expected her to fall on her back and spread her legs every time he came near her. How could she have made such crude remarks? Recalling them made her blush.

  "My dad says he wants to do something to make it up to you,” Andy said.

  Georgina's heart jolted. This was it. The opportunity to put her project back on track. Perhaps your father would like to take me out to dinner one night next week. That was all she needed to say. The words formed inside her head but refused to come out past her lips.

  Andy gave her another cautious glance. “My dad's been teaching me to shoot. I said that perhaps you'd like to come too."

  "Shoot?"

  "Yeah.” Andy stepped away from the wall and dropped all pretense of trying to fix the temperature dial. “It's cool. You get to hold a gun and shoot at a target that's in the shape of a man. Then you press a button to bring the target back to you, and you can check where the bullets have hit."

  "Your dad lets you do that?"

  "He hovers over me like a mother hen,” Andy admitted. “And in the beginning he made me practice for ages with an unloaded gun."

  Georgina pursed her lips. She pictured herself holding a gun in her outstretched hands, with Rick standing behind her, steadying her grip, murmuring instructions into her ear. Their bodies would be close. A little stumble would have her losing her balance and falling into him. It would only be natural to be startled by the impact and the noise when she pulled the trigger.