Bad Boys Over Easy Page 19

  “Nana Joan, you look well.” Derek leaned in to kiss her cheek.

  “I am. Now who is this fine young lady?” Her gaze spun to Amanda.

  “This is Ms. Amanda Dillon. She’s a celebrity of sorts,” he added.

  “Mustn’t be much of one, I’ve never heard of her.”

  Amanda laughed at her candidness. She couldn’t help it. Joan Lansing told it like it was. How refreshing.

  Derek colored. “Just because you haven’t heard of her, doesn’t mean she’s not a celebrity.”

  “Are you talking back to me?” One meaty hand went to her plump hip.

  Derek’s eyes widened. “No ma’am.” He shook his head.

  Amanda bit her lip to keep from laughing again. She hadn’t missed the sparkle of affection shining in Joan’s eyes when she gazed at her grandson.

  “Well don’t just stand there, go into the living room and have a seat. I’ll be in with coffee in a moment.”

  Amanda reached out to stop Joan. “I’m sorry, but I don’t drink coffee.”

  Joan smiled brightly. “Well that’s a shame, dear. It looks like you’ll have to today.” With that, she strode off to the kitchen.

  Amanda snorted. “Is she always like that?”

  Derek grinned. “As I recall.”

  His words slapped sense into her. “Does anything seem familiar?”

  “I know she’s my grandmother and that I love her, but other than that…” He shrugged.

  This couldn’t be happening to her. What was she going to do now? Her gaze followed Joan’s retreat into the kitchen.

  “I’ll meet you in the living room.” Before Derek could respond, she’d strolled off, hot on his grandmother’s heels.

  Panic gripped Derek. He hadn’t gotten a chance to warn his grandmother. He’d wanted to whisper in her ear that they needed to talk, but Amanda stood too close and would have overheard.

  Now she was in the kitchen, saying God only knows what to his grandmother, and he couldn’t think of a thing to stop her. He paced in the hall a moment before growling in frustration. His steps fell heavy across the tan carpeted floor as he strode into the living room.

  Modest brown leather furniture landscaped the room. Nana Joan had two sofas that faced one another with a reclining chair at one end. It had been his grandfather’s favorite. Nana Joan refused to part with the chair, even though it had a rip in the seat. A gas fireplace took up the bulk of one wall, its mantel littered with photos taken of him while he was growing up.

  Derek smiled when his gaze touched on the one where he sat on Nana Joan’s lap. His two front teeth were missing in action, and he and Nana appeared to be having a tickle fight. All his memories of this woman and this house were joyous, full of love and laughter.

  He’d learned what it was like to be a man from his grandfather Pete. The pain of his passing was still fresh in his heart, even after all these years. Derek cleared his throat. He missed him.

  He turned from the mantel and sat on one of the couches. The room reminded him of everything he was missing in his life: family, kids—a wife. All things he’d managed to gloss over until he came for a visit. Now it was impossible to ignore. Not that it mattered much anymore, now that Nana was about to blow his little charade out of the water. How ironic that the one woman he could see himself settling down with was the one woman who’d soon hate his guts.

  Amanda entered Joan Lansing’s kitchen with one thing on her mind—Derek. As much as she’d miss him, she had to get him out of this trance. She wouldn’t be able live with herself otherwise. It wasn’t like she could care for him for the rest of his life, could she? The thought sent delicious possibilities zinging through her head.

  Earlier to Wendy, Amanda had likened Derek to a stray puppy. You’d love a stray puppy if you found one, wouldn’t you? Of course, she would, but Derek wasn’t a puppy, so she couldn’t keep him, could she?

  No!

  She wanted Derek of his own free will and the only way that could happen is if she woke him up.

  “Joan, I need your help.”

  “Yes, dear.” Joan glanced up from scooping grounds into the coffeepot.

  “It’s a long story, but I’ll try to make it short.”

  Joan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, dear.”

  “Your grandson Derek came to my show a few nights ago. I’m a hypnotist.” Amanda pressed a hand to her chest, trying to still her raging heartbeat. “Anyway, he participated, which called for me to hypnotize him, and I haven’t been able to wake him since.”

  Joan smiled and went back to scooping. With that pile of grounds, they’d probably have cappuccino.

  “There’s nothing wrong with my grandson,” she finally said, looking up long enough to reach for a pitcher of water.

  “What do you mean? I don’t think you understand.” Amanda sounded frantic, even to her own ears.

  “No, dear, you don’t understand. The only thing wrong with my grandson is he’s crazy about you.”

  Amanda’s mouth dropped open for a couple of beats.

  “Close your mouth, dear. I don’t need to see your molars,” she snickered and then went to a Winnie the Pooh cookie jar and retrieved a handful of cookies. “These are Derek’s favorites. He loves oatmeal cookies.”

  Amanda recovered. “Ma’am, I hate to contradict you, but Derek liking me is the problem.”

  Joan shook her head. “You young people these days make love so difficult. Back when Pete was courting me, we went to socials and held hands. When he told me he loved me, we got married.” She wiped her hands on a nearby rag.

  “But…”

  “Has Derek told you he loved you yet?” she asked, picking up the tray of coffee and cookies.

  “No.” Amanda started. “He hasn’t said that.” Was it possible he truly cared for her? Amanda’s heart leapt at the thought.

  Joan smiled. “He will. He probably just hasn’t had time with that big, fancy magazine job of his.”

  Amanda blinked. She’d obviously misunderstood Nana Joan. “What did you say?”

  “I said, he will probably tell you he loves you once he has a break from that demanding job of his.”

  Amanda’s heart slammed in her chest and then shattered. “H-He’s a—a journalist,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “One of the best.” Joan’s chin tilted higher and pride shone in her eyes.

  “Thank you, Nana Joan. You’ve been more than helpful.”

  “You’re welcome, dear.” The old woman paused. “Are you feeling well?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  But she wasn’t fine. Nothing about this situation was fine. He’d lied to her. He’d pretended to be something that he wasn’t. Worse still—he’d pretended to be hypnotized.

  Amanda’s stomach roiled. She waited for Nana Joan to leave the room, before grasping the counter for support. What was she going to do? Hurt coiled around her heart, squeezing until she thought the blood flow would cease. Angry tears moistened her eyes. She didn’t know who she was angrier with, Derek or herself.

  Derek had just about convinced himself everything was going to be fine until he saw Amanda’s expression as she entered the living room. In that moment, he knew he’d been busted. She averted her gaze from his and refused to sit near him when he suggested she take a seat. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the coffee cup.

  “Amanda, would you like a cookie?” he offered, holding the plate.

  “I don’t want anything from you. Forgive me, Nana Joan, but I have to go. I-I-I just have to go.” Amanda stood in a rush and walked to the door.

  Derek raced after her. “Amanda, we need to talk.”

  “You must think I’m pretty stupid right about now.”

  He tried to touch her, but she pushed his hands away.

  “And I suppose I am.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I hope you got a good story out of last night. Is that why you pretended to be
in a trance, to get me into bed?”

  Derek heard a gasp behind him. He cringed at the thought of Nana Joan overhearing their conversation, but he couldn’t allow Amanda to leave in this emotional state without an explanation.

  “You know I didn’t make love to you in order to have a story.”

  “Do I?” Her chin shot up. Pain flickered in her eyes. “Then why did you?”

  Derek glanced over his shoulder one more time. Nana Joan busied herself with cleaning up the dishes.

  “We can’t talk here.”

  She snorted. “Just as I thought. You’ll have to let me know when the issue is due to hit the stands. Good-bye, Derek.”

  The finality of her words shook him to the core. He didn’t want to let her go—ever. But he had no idea how he was going to convince Amanda that the moment they’d slept together everything had changed.

  She pulled free from his grasp and opened the door. He watched her walk down the sidewalk until she reached the curb, her full hips swaying side to side. Pain sliced through Derek. He willed his feet to move, go after her. Instead, he stood frozen in the doorway, his deception weighing him down.

  Amanda raised her arm and hailed a cab. Within seconds, she’d been picked up and driven out of his life.

  Six

  The next day the phone rang at five-thirty in the morning. Amanda answered on the second ring, since she’d spent the night wide awake. Her heart sank a notch when she realized it was Wendy.

  “Amanda, you are never going to believe who you have staying in your house,” her frantic voice squawked.

  “No one,” Amanda sighed.

  The silence tolled as loudly as any bell on her frazzled nerves. Several times during the night, Amanda had turned over half expecting to see Derek’s smiling face, but he hadn’t been there. His appearance, his act, everything had been an illusion. A con orchestrated to get him close enough to her so he could write an article.

  “Derek Armstrong is a reporter for Mode Times Magazine. He’s the reporter who’s been after the interview. The same one who sent you all those flowers. I thought maybe he was faking it, but I had no idea he was a reporter.”

  “You what? You mean to tell me you knew he wasn’t under a trance and you let me take him home with me!”

  Wendy whimpered. “I wouldn’t have if I’d have known who he was. I thought meeting a nice man would be good for you.”

  “Oh, Wendy…” Amanda didn’t know how to feel. Derek was good for her in so many ways, but she couldn’t get past his deception. Not that it mattered, since they wouldn’t be speaking ever again.

  “I’m sorry, Amanda. I truly am. If you want to fire me I’ll understand.”

  Amanda could hear Wendy crying softly into the phone. “Fire you. Are you kidding? I wouldn’t fire the best assistant I’ve ever had. Besides, you’re my friend. You were only looking out for my best interest.”

  “Amanda,” she hiccoughed. “I don’t deserve you as a boss.”

  “No you don’t, but I’m afraid we’re stuck with each other.” She laughed.

  Wendy sniffled. “Funny. Real funny. So what are you going to do?”

  “About?”

  “You know who.”

  Pain sliced through Amanda, even without the mention of Derek’s name. In a few short days, she’d actually fallen in love with the louse.

  “There’s nothing I can do. He’ll probably come out with some pithy article about the real Amanda Dillon, telling the world about our bedroom escapades.”

  “So you did sleep with him! I thought so.”

  It must be the lack of sleep that pried Amanda’s lips open enough to spill that bit of information. She supposed it didn’t really matter if Wendy knew about it or not, because soon the whole world would know.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does. Do you love him?”

  Amanda groaned. “Wendy, that’s a stupid question, even for you.”

  “You didn’t answer me. Do…you…love…him?”

  She sighed. “I thought I did, but…” She shrugged. “Can I go back to sleep now?” Like that’s going to happen.

  Wendy winced. “I’m sorry. I was so excited. I forgot what time it was. I’ll let you go and call you later this afternoon.”

  “Sure.” Whatever. It didn’t matter. She’d still be sitting in the same position on the couch.

  Derek Armstrong sat at his desk staring into space. He’d perused the file on Amanda’s parents and now understood her reluctance to speak with the press.

  Her father had been ruined by a newspaper reporter’s article when she was a child. He’d been accused of bilking money from a retirement fund and was later acquitted when it was discovered the president of the company had been behind the thefts.

  By then though, it had been too late for him to recover his once sterling reputation; magazines and newspapers across the country had run with the story. Randall Dillon had been labeled a thief. From what Derek could gather, he’d died a broken man, leaving his wife and daughter in dire straits.

  That explained why every dime she made from the show went into a savings account for her and her mother.

  Hell, no wonder Amanda didn’t give interviews.

  For the first time in Derek’s life, he knew what heartbreak was. And he didn’t like it one bit. After Amanda had left, Nana Joan had scolded him, shaming him over his deceptive behavior and for breaking the poor girl’s heart. Her heart? What about his?

  Had he broken Amanda’s heart? Did she care enough for him to allow him to do so? Derek didn’t know, but he felt as guilty as the time he’d lifted candy from the dime store and Nana Joan had made him take it back. Like then, this was a lesson he would not soon forget.

  He’d been a fool. An arrogant, self-centered, asinine fool. How could he convince Amanda that he understood her pain and fear? And that he’d changed. Hell, she’d been the one to change him.

  Derek considered every way of approaching Amanda. None seemed acceptable. She’d called him a liar. Perhaps he was, but he’d never lied to her about his profession. She’d just never asked what he did for a living. If she had, he would have told her.

  Fingers laced behind his head, he rocked, tipping his chair back, while balancing with his foot. There had to be some way back into her life. That’s what got you into trouble in the first place, his conscience warned. He ignored the warning. He was just miserable enough to be desperate.

  A loud knock sounded on Amanda’s door. She jumped out of her half-conscious state. What time was it? The clock over the stove blinked twelve. Someday she was going to have to figure out how to set that stupid thing.

  The sound came again, only this time louder. “I’m coming.” Amanda padded barefoot across the hardwood floor and unlocked the door.

  “You should check to see who it is before you open the door,” Derek snapped.

  He looked as disheveled as she felt.

  “I had a pretty good idea who it was. Besides, getting mugged wouldn’t make my day any worse.”

  He shouldered the door, almost as if he expected her to slam it in his face.

  Amanda ran a trembling hand through her tangled hair and turned to walk back into her apartment. She didn’t have the energy to argue with this man. She just wanted to crawl back into bed and go to sleep for a week.

  “Derek, I don’t want to fight. You got what you wanted, so can’t you just leave me alone.”

  “No.”

  “Why?” The question turned into a plea.

  “Because I didn’t get what I wanted.”

  His words stopped her cold.

  Amanda spun, newfound anger curling in her belly and awakening her senses. “Let me get this straight, you pretend to be in a trance, you lie to me about your identity, and then you have the nerve to come back here expecting more. Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”

  Derek listened to Amanda seethe. She looked so beautiful, glowing from her anger. From her crumpled sweats to her mussed hair,
it was more than obvious she hadn’t slept. Her normally vibrant blue eyes were now tinged with red. Guilt swamped him. He shouldn’t have deceived her by pretending to be in a trance, but he wouldn’t accept responsibility for lying.

  Derek shut the door behind him and locked it before turning to face Amanda. “Give me one instance where I lied to you.”

  Amanda’s nostrils flared and she clenched her jaw. “You lied about who you were and what you did for a living.”

  “I never lied to you.”

  “You didn’t tell me you were a reporter,” she snapped.

  “You never asked.”

  Derek closed the distance between them. “You’ve been so worried about being burned by me, you didn’t stop to think that just maybe, I’d fallen for you,” he said. “Damn it, I love you. Get it?”

  Amanda stood in stunned silence. She hadn’t asked what Derek’s profession was because she’d been too concerned over the fact that he wouldn’t come out of induction.

  “It’s probably just the trance talking,” her voice squeaked out.

  His gaze slid over her body and his eyes narrowed. “No, it’s not the trance. I never was under and you know it. You couldn’t put me under.”

  “I-I could too.”

  He smiled lethally. “Go ahead. Try.”

  “Sit down!”

  Derek did as she commanded. Amanda retrieved her coin and went through a simple induction. When she was finished, Derek looked relaxed with his eyes closed and his breathing deep and even. His wide chest rose and fell with each exhalation.

  So she couldn’t induce him, eh? She just showed him.

  Amanda’s fingers itched to touch him one more time. Against her better judgment, she reached out to touch his chest. His heartbeat was slow and steady. Amanda smiled to herself. She was about to pull away when his eyes flew open, emotion shimmering in their gray depths. The second their gazes locked, Derek’s heart rate skyrocketed.

  Amanda gasped. She could feel her eyes widen as she snatched her hand back. It wasn’t possible was it? Did he love her? She scrambled to her feet to get away, her heart slamming in her chest. Before she could make a clean break, Derek caught her upper arms, effectively halting her escape.