But now she had someone in her life and it astonished her, too. She wouldn’t have talked about it, out of fear of jinxing it. She wanted to wait and see if Douglas was going to stick around for a while before letting Suzanne or Claire know about it. Damn her skin and her tendency to blush. Well, the secret was out now, no sense denying it.
“Yes, um, Douglas stayed. And he’s, um, coming back tonight.” She frowned. “Or at least he said he was. I hope his word is good.”
“Oh, his word is good.” Suzanne’s voice held something. What? Some odd inflection as if she was trying to tell Allegra something without saying the words. “There’s no doubt about that. Douglas is a thousand percent a man of his word. If he said he’s coming back, count on it—he’ll be back. I don’t think grenades or machine-gun fire could stop him. It’s just that…”
“What?” Allegra leaned forward, suddenly anxious and scared. Had she missed out on something? Not recognized something? What if Douglas wasn’t as wonderful as she thought? What if he was hiding something, like—
“Heavens! He isn’t married is he? He said he wasn’t. Or rather,” she frowned, “he implied he was single. It would be just too awful if he was married with a dozen kids.” She clapped her hands to her still-red cheeks in horror. Oh God, she simply couldn’t stand it if her time with Douglas had been a lie. He seemed so steady and—
“No, sweetie, Douglas is definitely not married, never has been. There are no kids anywhere, I can assure you of that.”
Allegra sat back in her chair, relieved. Wow. Maybe she should stop thinking in such catastrophic terms all the time. Not everything was destined to turn out for the worst. Maybe.
“Well, this is a real surprise.” Suzanne touched the back of her hand lightly, letting her know she was there, listening. “I want you to tell me everything. What happened? He accompanied you home and then just walked right in?”
“Mmm, not quite. We had a little…interlude at the Foundation.”
“What?” This was actually fun. Allegra was enjoying the shock and surprise in Suzanne’s voice. Not much knocked Suzanne off course. “At the Foundation? Between the concert and the bad guys? No wait, you were singing when they broke in! Just when did you have time to carry on a romance? This is incredible.”
It was so romantic, Allegra wanted to tell the tale. For just a second, she allowed herself a flash of thought of the future. And since it was in the privacy of her own head, she could think what she wanted. She imagined telling her grandchildren the story. And since it was her head and her daydream, there were lot of kids listening.
Ah, me darlings, gather ’round and listen to when your grandfather started seducing yer grandmother under the podium while bad guys were shootin’ their guns.
“Well, you and Claire weren’t around, so Douglas accompanied me up onto the podium.” She shushed Suzanne, who’d groaned. “And don’t you dare apologize for not being there because if you had, I wouldn’t have had a chance to connect with Douglas. Anyway, he walked me to Dagda and said he’d wait for me to finish, so he was close by. I was halfway through the set when I heard noises from the audience. It was only later that I found out the lights went out. And then—and then there was a huge explosion. Only just as the noise of the explosion hit me, something else hit me—Douglas, flying off the podium with me in his arms. Amazing. He rolled us right under the concert podium. He was on top of me. And we, um, stayed there…for a while.”
Long enough to almost have an orgasm, she thought, and blushed bright red again.
“It was so wonderful, Suzanne,” she said dreamily. “I just can’t tell you how—how wonderful and exciting and thrilling it’s been. Just amazing. I mean, I know perfectly well that there are huge differences between us. Don’t think I don’t realize that.”
“Well,” Suzanne said, her voice kind. “What does that matter? After all, looks aren’t every—”
“I mean,” Allegra interrupted, “I’ll just bet you anything he’s a Republican.”
Suzanne laughed.
“What?”
“Oh, yes, I think you can safely say that Douglas is a Republican. And definitely John and probably Bud, too. It’s okay, your vote can cancel his out. Who cares about politics? There are more important things. Are you—are you happy with him?”
“Absolutely.” With all her doubts about herself and what she could offer, that was a question Allegra could answer without hesitation. “It’s been wonderful—so far, at least. I feel incredibly safe, with him, you know?”
“Yes,” Suzanne said softly, putting her hand over Allegra’s and squeezing lightly. “I can imagine. I know how I feel with John, like nothing bad can happen as long as he’s around. I’m only sorry that on Saturday night I insisted that he and Douglas be unarmed. I was wrong. How wrong was, uh,” Suzanne’s voice turned wry, “pointed out to me very forcefully all day yesterday.”
“Exactly.” There was something about Douglas that made her feel safe, just having him in the room made her feel better. She’d never seen John, Suzanne’s husband. She’d only had dinner with him and Suzanne once, and they’d spoken briefly at the Foundation, but something told her he was in many ways similar to Douglas. Tall and with a deep voice, though not as deep as Douglas’, steady and calm.
You could almost feel the glow coming off Suzanne whenever she talked about her husband.
“That’s the way I feel about Douglas. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing. And, boy, does he.” Blood rushed back to her face. She felt like a stoplight. “Whoa, did that come out wrong.”
Suzanne laughed again. “Uh huh. If he’s anything like John, um, in intimacy, I’ll just bet he knows what he’s doing.”
“Who knows what he’s doing? Hi Allegra, hi Suzanne.” Before Allegra could answer, there was a flurry of air, soft lips kissed her cheek, and Claire’s voice said, “I made it! I left Mr. Impossibly Grumpy for two whole hours and got here! It’s so good to be out of the hospital and,” Claire breathed in deeply, “smelling something besides rubbing alcohol and formaldehyde! It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that Bud keeps trying to get out of bed, though he’s attached to machinery by a thousand tubes. If I hadn’t stopped him, he would have pulled out his IV this morning. I swear, that man survived surgery only to get murdered by his nurses.”
“Hi, Claire.” Allegra smiled. Claire was so sweet. She could just see her with Bud, patient and gentle with a grouchy male. Men could be so impossible. She remembered her father when he’d had gallstone surgery and had morphed right into a cranky old bear who—
A sharp pain flared deep in her head then spread, pounding. Allegra gasped and held her head.
“Hey, sweetie.” Suzanne’s cool hand touched her forehead. “Is something the matter? Do you need something?”
Another head. That’s what she needed. And while she was at it, another life. This happened to her often when she thought of her father, another cruel blow of fate.
“No, no, nothing’s wrong,” Allegra lied. She brought her hand down, forced a smile on her face. “I’m fine. Sorry. So Bud is okay? We were so worried, Douglas and I. But Douglas told me that if a gunshot wound doesn’t kill you immediately, there’s an excellent chance of survival and recovery. And I suppose he should know.”
“Yes, he’ll be fine. I think it’s a sign of recovery that Bud’s threatening to pull his gun on the doctors unless they tell him when he can go home. Preferably yesterday, to his way of thinking. Why, right after surgery…” Claire’s voice trailed off and Allegra could practically hear her head swivel. “Douglas? You’ve got a guy named Douglas? Who’s Doug—heavens! Not your husband’s partner?” This to Suzanne. She sounded shocked.
“The same.” Suzanne’s voice was dry. “Senior Chief Douglas Kowalski.”
Silence. More silence.
“Wow,” Claire said finally.
“Yeah,” Allegra said, feeling the blood rise to her face again. “Wow. You can say that again. It’s been great. Just
great. I’ve never had such an exciting time with a man before. I mean—oh God.” That came out all wrong, all over again. She must be radiating heat from her blush.
Suzanne and Claire laughed.
“Ladies? Your meals will be here shortly. May I take your drink orders?” Allegra wondered if it was the tall waiter who had the demeanor of an undertaker or the short, hairy one who looked like Robin Williams. They each ordered a glass of wine—a Merlot for her, Riesling for Claire and Zinfandel for Suzanne. The waiter disappeared in a cloud of scent. He’d obviously rolled out of bed this morning straight into a vat of aftershave.
”So,” they said all at once, and laughed.
“So.” Allegra turned toward Claire. “I want to hear all about Bud.”
“I don’t,” Suzanne said promptly.
“Me neither.” Claire tapped Allegra’s hand. “I’m sick of thinking of Bud. I’ve done nothing but care for him for the past thirty-six hours and I’m going back to him when lunch is over, so I’m all Bud-ed out right now. I want to hear about…Douglas.” There it was again, that tone. Suzanne had it too, when she said his name. What was that about? “Come on, Allegra. Tell all. And I mean everything. Every little detail.”
There was a scraping sound as the two minxes actually brought their chairs closer to her, so as not to miss anything.
“Not talking,” Allegra said primly, miming a zip across her mouth. Claire made a shocked sound.
“Not at all?” Suzanne’s fingers tapped impatiently on the wooden tabletop.
Allegra shook her head. Not a peep.
“Nothing? Not the tiniest detail? Ah, come on,” Claire whined. “I told you all about Bud and when we met.”
Allegra shook her head, vigorously, enjoying the suspense. Claire had indeed talked, in shocking, red-hot detail. Well, she had her own red-hot story to tell. Putting on a smug smile, she waited. Let them suffer for it if they wanted dish.
“Nothing for it but to bribe her,” Claire told Suzanne. “But with what? Chocolate mousse?”
Allegra hesitated a moment—chocolate mousse was tempting—then shook her head. She had chocolate mousse, Francesca’s tiramisù and Sacher torte in her freezer. They’d have to do better than that.
“I know what will get her to talk,” Suzanne said slyly. “A secret. A big, big secret. Big, fat, juicy secret.”
“What?” Allegra and Claire said together.
“Wouldn’t be a secret if I told, would it?” Suzanne sounded incredibly smug. “And yet, I’m willing to talk if Allegra is.”
The sound of the serving trolley, then the sounds of the waiter placing their plates on the table. Allegra leaned forward to take in the scent of her order—gnocchi in gorgonzola sauce, a specialty of the house. Her favorite dish at The Garden was onion soup, but soup was too messy for her to eat in public, even with understanding friends like Claire and Suzanne.
Claire dinged her water glass with the spoon. “Okay now, we’ve struck our deal, so who goes first? I vote Allegra.”
“Nope.” Allegra brought one of the gnocchi to her mouth and savored it. The Garden’s chef was fabulous. “I’m not talking until I know that Suzanne’s news is worthy of my news. On a scale of one to ten, mine is a hundred.” She had the upper hand and she knew it. New loves were the atom bombs of gossip. They blew everything else right out of the water.
“How do we know you won’t cheat? Suzanne tells her secret and then you zip up again?”
Allegra sipped her Merlot. “You’ll have to take it on faith.” She smiled and sipped again, waiting. “Take it or leave it.”
“We’ll take it,” Claire said.
“Absolutely.”
“You first, Suzanne.” Allegra smiled. She loved besting Suzanne in negotiation. Suzanne in a previous life must have worked in the Casbah in Casablanca, buying and selling carpets. Getting the upper hand with her ranked right up there with winning the Pulitzer Prize.
“Okay. Well, this is my news.” Suzanne took a deep breath, let it out shakily. “I’m…pregnant.”
Claire and Allegra squealed at the same time, cutlery clattering to the table. Allegra reached over to clasp Suzanne’s hand. “Ohmygodohmygod!”
“This is great! Oh, wow! I can’t wait to tell Bud!” Claire laughed. “He’ll have a cow. Gosh, this is all so sudden!”
The three friends hugged and Allegra heard Suzanne sniffle. Well, that’s why she kept pocket handkerchiefs in her purse, for friends. Suzanne took the proffered handkerchief with a muffled, “Thanks,” and blew her nose. Hormones, Allegra thought. Had to be hormones. Suzanne never cried.
“Whoa, sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying. I mean I’m happy and everything, it’s just—” Suzanne honked in an unladylike and very un-Suzanne-like way into the handkerchief. “It’s all so overwhelming. Everything’s happened so fast.”
And it had. Suzanne only met her husband for the first time a month ago. She’d had wild sex with him the evening they met—Allegra and Claire had dragged that out of her—and the next day she was running for her life, after John shot and killed two men gunning for her.
Then she and John holed up in some cabin in the mountains, which she said was very dingily furnished. Man, woman, alone in shabby mountain cabin—well, you have some baby-making ingredients right there.
Then the FBI had taken her away for four days until the bad guy had providentially ended up dead. The next day she and John were married.
And now she was expecting. Talk about the pace of modern life.
“I was on the Pill,” Suzanne said, and honked again into the handkerchief. “I know how to take care of myself. But things got so muddled there. I must have skipped a day or two. And then John and I—” She stopped abruptly and Allegra wished she could see her, see whether Suzanne could blush. She had a very good idea of what she and John had been doing. “It’s really early, I’m only a few days late but somehow I just knew I was pregnant. So I bought the kit and took the test this morning. I was a little shell-shocked. I still haven’t told John.”
“Do you want a child?” Claire asked gently.
“Yes.” Suzanne’s voice was clear. She sounded like her old self. There was a rustle of clothes as Allegra imagined her sitting up straighter in her chair. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t have chosen to get married and get pregnant quite so quickly, but there it is. Now I just have to screw up the courage to tell John.”
“You don’t think he’ll want a child?” Allegra asked. How sad. This had happened to several of her girlfriends. The husbands or boyfriends hadn’t wanted children, hadn’t wanted the burden or distraction. It was a shame because Allegra couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than bearing a child to love. She herself wanted a big family. She’d always suffered from the fact that she was an only child.
“No, he wants it. He was saying just the other day he thought we should start a family. I just didn’t think it would be so…soon.” Her voice wobbled at the end. She drew in a long breath and her voice steadied. “The truth is, I wanted to come up with a sure-fire John Management Technique before having a child. I still haven’t figured out how to keep John on the other side of the line as far as arranging my life is concerned, and this is going to send him over the top. John tends to go wildly overboard in the protection department.”
“Tell me about it,” Allegra and Claire said at the same time, then laughed.
“Well, you see? Maybe they all studied at the same School for Overprotective Men. I swear, it was a struggle to be able to drive here today. I mean, there’s maybe a quarter inch of snow on the sidewalks, the streets are clear as anything, but John kept insisting that he have one of his men drive me here. His men are not what you’d call great company. They sit at the wheel like great lumps of protoplasm and scowl at each passing car and pedestrian as if they were terrorists just waiting to whip out a gun or a bomb. It’s so totally annoying. And of course his men are supposed to be working, and I don’t want to keep them away from it for too long, which means I
have to calculate when I’ll leave and when I come back. That’s really annoying, too. I won today because I really put my foot down, but once John knows I’m pregnant, well I can kiss my steering wheel good-bye.”
Allegra had a sudden vision of Alpha Security International, John and Douglas’ company, turned into a glorified chauffeur service.
“I’m going to have to fight now to get to the big Home Decoration Exhibit in Savannah in March. I so look forward to it every year. I love meeting colleagues from all over, catching up on new trends, and now I’ll bet you anything John’s going to insist on coming with me. He’ll stick by me like glue. Can you imagine chatting with Willard Sykes of Textiles Ink about the new damasks out of China with John there, glowering?”
Wow. Allegra tried to imagine it—Suzanne and a colleague talking textile shop with a very large, bored, armed man sitting right next to them. It would put a damper on things, that was for sure. Not too good for business, either.
“And afterwards,” Suzanne continued, and Allegra could practically hear her roll her eyes. “Can you imagine how protective he’s going to be with a child? And I’m expecting a girl, I just know it, I can feel it in my bones. She’ll be lucky if he’ll let her out of the house before college.”
Silence as all three mulled over Suzanne’s little girl trying to date when she reached her teens with John running interference.
“Well,” Allegra ventured softly, “he’ll love her, that’s for sure. Like he loves you. That counts for a lot.”
Suzanne heaved a great sigh. “I know. I know how lucky I am. John’s a wonderful husband and he’ll be a loving father. I’m delighted about the child. I just wish I felt a little less…off balance about it.”