KNOCK ME OFF MY FEET

  "I'm fine," Audie said with a sigh. Marjorie had been so supportive this morning, assuring her it was all for the best, telling her things always happen for a reason.

  Audie was suddenly seized by an enormous rush of guilt. She'd been so distracted that she hadn't even told Marjorie about her decision on the column. She owed this woman everything. She owed her the straight story. Homey Helen had been Marjorie Stoddard's life.

  "Marjie? Do you think you could be my lunch date today? I think we need to spend some time together."

  The older woman tapped her temple with an index finger and grinned. "My hunch is you're going to tell me you're through with the column and that you're not resigning with the Banner."

  Audie's mouth fell open.

  "Honey, it doesn't take a mind reader to see how miserable you've been. I'm sixty-three years old. I'm ready to slow down. I was expecting this, really, and I only want you to have all the happiness you deserve."

  Audie still couldn't say anything.

  "We'll have plenty of time to talk. What is most important to me right now is you don't get yourself all riled up about that detective. I'm sure you'll forget about him soon, like all the others." Marjorie had her hand on the door.

  Audie tried to smile. "You think so?"

  "I know so."

  Audie's eyes glazed over. Could she ever forget Quinn? Why would she even want to?

  She couldn't sleep last night. In the dark, she could see his intense green gaze. She could hear his gravelly voice saying, "Come here to me." She could still feel his hands move on her skin and his … his… Oh, crap! Hell! She could still feel him hot and hard inside her!

  This was no way to live!

  "Autumn?" Marjorie grabbed on to her wrist. "What about Sheila?"

  "Right."

  At that moment, Audie did something quite out of character for her. She pulled Marjorie close and hugged her, feeling with a shock how thin she seemed, how delicate. Maybe she really did want to slow down.

  "Thank you," she whispered, stepping back.

  Marjorie seemed too overcome to look Audie in the eye and walked into the front office.

  After taking a few moments to steel herself, Audie peered out to see Sheila sitting quietly on the sofa, nearly dwarfed by the coffee-table floral arrangement. Sheila looked up with those expressive blue eyes and Audie watched as she smiled, obviously in spite of herself.

  Audie had never had many girlfriends—usually just her soccer teammates in high school, college, and the adult leagues. The reason was simple: From what she'd seen, it looked like hard work. The process of finding and keeping women friends seemed fraught with twists and turns and chances for bad mistakes that she'd just prefer to avoid from the start. In fact, it seemed almost as difficult as dating.

  But Sheila's friendship had been so easy, so relaxed. It had been one of the many perks of being with Quinn. And now what?

  As she watched Sheila stand up and walk toward her, Audie went down the list of possible reasons for this visit—she was here to yell at her or to cry or to ask a lot of questions that were none of her business. Or maybe she had a message from Quinn!

  "Hi, Sheila. Come on in." Audie nodded toward her office and offered her a seat in one of the chairs by her desk. She took the other one.

  "Did the maid take the day off?" Sheila asked, one dark eyebrow arched high as she surveyed the room.

  Audie laughed. Maybe this wouldn't be so excruciating after all. "She took the year off. The decade."

  They sat quietly for a long moment, just examining each other as if unsure where they stood. Audie watched Sheila's pleasant face slowly go hard with anger, and she braced herself.

  She knew Sheila was tough, direct, and stubborn as hell. She had to be. She was married to Michael Quinn. She took care of a sick child all day, every day.

  "Where's Kiley?" Audie managed, her voice distinctly strained.

  "With Da." Sheila's month was turned down and trembling. "We need to talk."

  With a groan, Audie let her shoulders slump and her head fall forward into her hands. She'd been sitting like this a lot in the last fourteen hours.

  "What the hell happened with you two?"

  Audie raised up. "That's between me and Quinn."

  A deep frown furrowed Sheila's brow. "You've destroyed him."

  Audie laughed. That was a bit much. "I didn't mean to hurt him."

  "Bullshit!" Sheila's berry-blue eyes bored holes into Audie. "I thought you two really loved each other—no, I was sure of it. We all were."

  Audie watched Sheila shake her head in disbelief, her knuckles going white around the strap of her big straw purse. "What kind of person are you, Audie? How could you do that to him?"

  "Do what to him? Try to be honest with him?" Audie was angry now, too. Sheila was overreacting and it was really none of her business anyway. "Listen, Sheila. I never wanted to hurt him—that's the whole point to this. I let him go because I thought it was the kindest thing I could do for him. I'm just not sure I'm the right woman for him."

  Sheila let go with an ugly laugh. "I don't believe how smooth you are. You lead the guy on. You make him fall in love with you. You make all these nice plans with all of us. And all the while you're screwing Timmy Burke behind his back? Do you do this kind of thing all the time? Is this how you get your jollies?"

  Audie stared blankly, blinked once, and forced her tongue to function. "What the hell are you talking about?" The question came out in a harsh whisper. "What did you just say to me?"

  Sheila stood up and glared down at her. "I said Stacey found out you were sleeping with Tim! They found your letter this morning when they arrested him! God! How could you do that? How do you live with yourself?"

  Audie jumped to her feet and glared at Sheila's hard little face. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

  "Yeah, right." She turned to leave, but Audie grabbed her arm.

  "You're not going anywhere, Sheila. You sit your little butt down in that chair and tell me what's going on! Tim was arrested? For what? What letter? What the hell is going on?"

  Sheila's mouth formed a small round shape and she exhaled the word, "Oh."

  Audie waited, her blood pounding.

  "They haven't called you yet?"

  "Called me? Who?"

  "Oh, Lord. Sit down."

  "I'm not sitting anywhere! Tell me!"

  "Fine." Sheila squinted up at Audie and pulled her mouth tight. "They arrested Timmy Burke this morning for sending you the letters. They found them stored in his computer at City Hall. He's being held at the station right now and apparently it's a huge political mess. Stacey called Da to ask for his advice and told him about what you'd done and Da told me. I got so goddamn mad that I came right up here—even though Da said you weren't worth the trouble."

  The room was spinning and Audie held on to Sheila's shoulders, not just out of frustration now, but out of necessity. She thought she might fall over. Not worth the trouble? Jamie Quinn said that about her?

  The words hit her chest with enough force to knock the wind out of her. The tears were immediate, and they flowed hard. The sense of loss took Audie by storm.

  Sheila continued. "There wasn't anything you could have done that would have hurt Stacey more, but you knew that, didn't you?" Sheila reached out with her purse and whacked Audie on the shoulder. "Let go of me."

  Audie dropped her arms.

  "Stacey is one of the finest men I've ever known, and you … you are the most cold-hearted bitch I've ever met in my life and I can't believe I fell for your act! I'm usually not wrong about people, but…" Tears were falling down Sheila's cheeks. "Boy, did I screw up this time!"

  Audie's shoulder stung and her face was wet and she wasn't thinking clearly, but still, she knew there was one part of this conversation that baffled her more than the rest—the letter. What letter?

  "What letter, Sheila?"

  Sheila just glared at her.

  "Listen to me, Sheila. I
didn't betray Quinn with that scumbag Tim Burke and I have no idea what you're talking about. What letter?"

  Sheila remained silent.

  "I would never do that to Quinn. I—" Audie screeched to a halt, nearly gagging on the words. "I care about him. Oh, my God, I love him!"

  "Bullshit. Again."

  "Please, believe me!" Audie's heart was hammering. Did she just say what she thought she'd just said? She tried to concentrate on Sheila's mean little face. "I'm going over to the station right now and sort this out."

  Sheila shook her head. "Don't bother. Da said Stacey never wants to see you again."

  Audie began to tremble. In a matter of minutes, her world had imploded. It was no longer a matter of pride or hang-ups or mind games between them. Quinn never wanted to see her again because he thought she'd been with Tim Burke! Good God! Quinn had said he loved her and wanted to marry her and now he thought she'd betrayed him with his lifelong enemy!

  Just like Laura did.

  She wanted to scream! She wanted to rip something into shreds!

  "Good-bye, Audie."

  "No!" Audie blocked Sheila's progress toward the door. "You're going to tell me what you know. They arrested Tim? He sent me those letters? But it doesn't make sense! What lies did that bastard tell Quinn and why did he believe him?"

  Sheila sighed and closed her eyes. "The game's over, Audie. They found your letter saying how you couldn't get enough of Timmy—in the car, at your place, on the boat—absolutely gross. It was all right there in your handwriting."

  "My handwriting?" Audie whispered.

  "I'm out of here."

  Audie grabbed Sheila's upper arm and shook her. "You're the only real girlfriend I've had in years. Did you know that?"

  Sheila's mouth opened in surprise. "What?"

  "Quinn is the most incredible man I've ever met. I was fantasizing about marrying him someday and having kids with him and putting up a wooden swing set in his backyard."

  Sheila said nothing.

  "When I was a little girl, my dad used to pull me out of school and take me to Wrigley Field for an afternoon Cubs game. He'd buy me a hot dog and a Coke and…" Audie was blubbering and shaking and couldn't stop talking. "…and I'd sit there thinking that I could live with all the emptiness in my life, because I knew there would be a few days like that—perfect days where I felt like I belonged somewhere, belonged to someone."

  Sheila was dumbstruck.

  "The days I had with Quinn and you and your family felt just like that to me! Maybe even better! And Quinn told me I could borrow all of you, and I was seriously thinking about it."

  "Then why—?"

  "Because I don't know anything about the right way to love people and he scared me, Sheila—you all scared me! And I said some things I shouldn't have and backed away. But I didn't do anything with Tim Burke. I can't stand the sight of him. Somebody set me up."

  Sheila shook her head. "I don't want to hear any more."

  "Please don't go—"

  Audie and Sheila both jumped at the sound of a man shouting in the front office.

  "You deserve everything you're about to get!" the voice said, and Audie was at the door, flinging it open on its hinges in time to see Drew rushing into the hallway.

  "Drew?" Audie ran into the reception area just as Marjorie shoved something in her desk drawer. "What's going on, Marjorie?" she shouted. "Are you all right?"

  Marjorie looked up, wide-eyed and pale, then put her face in her hands and cried.

  "I'll be right back." Audie swiveled around to see Sheila standing in the doorway to her office, her face stricken with sadness. "Stay with Marjorie for a minute."

  Audie raced out the office door, down the steps, and out into the bright sunshine of the sidewalk, looking to her right and left for any sign of her brother in the crowds of shoppers and businesspeople. He was nowhere to be seen. He must have run, which would be a first for Drew.

  Suddenly Sheila was behind her, coming out the brownstone's front door.

  "Sheila, wait!"

  She didn't. She pushed her way past Audie and ran across the street. Marjorie flew by an instant later, heading down the sidewalk with her briefcase, not responding as Audie called after her.

  Audie groaned in exasperation and collapsed onto the building's front steps, dropping her face into her hands.

  Was this what it felt like to lose your mind? It wouldn't surprise her if a spaceship suddenly materialized overhead and a little gray man beckoned for her to walk up the ramp.

  With every last bit of strength she had, Audie rose to her feet—and came face-to-face with the alien! No, wait. It was Russell. She'd forgotten their appointment.

  "You look awful, Audie." Russell peered into her face. "Have you been crying or something?"

  She snorted and turned to go up the steps. "Something," she said. "Let's hurry up and get this over with."

  * * *

  "Mind if I smoke?" Audie asked as Russell got settled in his chair.

  "Not in the least. Mind if I have a complete mental breakdown?"

  His sternly handsome face looked haunted today, but she was going to help the guy out. With this one conversation, she'd put him out of his misery once and for all.

  "Did you sign the contract?"

  "No, Russell, I did not." Audie stared quizzically at the stray cigarette she found in her desk drawer and threw it in the trash—it didn't even tempt her. She clasped her hands on the desktop. "Look. My life is falling apart right now and I really need to be on my way, so I'm just going to get right to the point. I asked you to come over today because I've decided not to sign it. I don't want to be Homey Helen anymore."

  Russell went perfectly still, except for a slight tremor at the left corner of his down-turned mouth. "You're fucking kidding me, right?"

  "I've never been more serious about anything in my life. I want out. It's over. I'm not sure exactly what comes next, but please do whatever it is you have to do to sell it. Drew won't be taking over. That I can tell you. Just take care of it, please."

  His words came out dreamily. "But we just sent out your new publicity shots. You looked so good with your hair down."

  She sighed. "Keep it together, Russell. I've made my decision. I'm going back to my old job."

  "You're going to do what?"

  "Coach. Teach. I'm going to do what I enjoy—what makes me happy. Uptown has agreed to take me back starting in the winter semester, and I'm putting the Lakeside Pointe condo on the market. I've already started house-hunting in Wrigleyville."

  He began nodding absently and let his eyes scan her office. "You're insane."

  "Not anymore, I'm not."

  Russell whipped his head around and gave her his best look of disapproval. "So you're going back on your word to your mother?"

  This wasn't an unexpected tactic, but Audie couldn't hide the weariness she felt. She was barely holding on to rational thought—all she wanted was to find Quinn. Talk to him. Make him listen.

  "My mother is dead, Russ. She's been that way for over a year and I think it's safe to say she doesn't give a crap what I do. The only person I need to answer to is myself."

  "But the Banner reception is tomorrow night! The column—"

  "I'll go to the party and I'll do the column until the last day I'm obligated, which is October first from what I can tell. Your firm will be compensated for everything related to tying up the loose ends."

  "But, Audie—"

  She reached for the file folder on top of a teetering stack of newspapers. "Here's the contract, with my letter of resignation attached. Just think, Russ—you won't have to deal with me anymore. Maybe your ulcer will go away."

  Russell took the folder from her, staring blankly, then placed it back on her desk. "I'm not doing your dirty work. You can give your resignation to Malcolm yourself." He turned to leave but glanced over his shoulder. "You know, I just can't believe you're throwing all this away—the fame, the TV spots, the money. I don't understand yo
u at all, Audie."

  She smiled sadly. "I know you don't, Russ. That's OK."

  Russell's eyes suddenly narrowed. "I won't let you do this. I'll find a way to make you stay."

  "God, don't go there, all right? Think this through a minute—my mother made you an obscenely rich man, but the party's over. Besides, I was a public relations disaster waiting to happen, and you know it, Russ."

  Audie stood up behind her desk to make her point. "How long before somebody found out I don't own a vacuum? That the one year I tried to roast a Thanksgiving turkey I left the plastic bag of giblets inside and the whole thing tasted like a trash can liner? That I wouldn't know silver polish from Polish sausage? So think of this as me doing you a huge favor, and just let it go. Let me go."

  Audie saw his face brighten, as if he'd had an epiphany.

  "This is your way of getting back at me because I slept with Megan Peterson, isn't it? I apologized for that, Audie. I really did want it to work out between us—I still wish it had."

  She was stunned, and it took her a moment to realize she was hearing the sound of her own laughter. Since she really could use a rip-snorter right about then, Audie threw her head back and roared.

  Unfortunately, Russell stalked out before she could say good-bye. When she'd stopped laughing, she poked her head out of her office, suddenly remembering that Marjorie was gone. That was bad—because she had no idea why Marjorie had been crying.

  Besides, she needed Marjorie's help cleaning up the enormous mess her life had suddenly become.

  Who wrote that letter on Tim's desk? Why? How could she convince Quinn to talk to her? Had Tim really been threatening her? What did Drew say or do that upset Marjorie so? And why did he run off like a crazy man?

  What the hell was going on?

  * * *

  Well, he'd made a debacle of that, hadn't he? It was the shock of seeing her, he supposed. He hadn't laid eyes on the crone for over a year, since she'd stood stiff as a two-by-four at Helen's funeral, the tears running down her face.

  He shouldn't have run off like that. His calves were still cramping from the three-block race from Chestnut Street