Free Spirits Read online

  In fact—” he looked too crafty for Alex’s peace of mind “—I could ask you to ask him something.”

  “It would never work.” She tamped out her cigarette and stood up. “I have to go over my final sketches before mailing them out.”

  “Where did Fritzi take her victims this time?” Marian asked.

  Alex smiled. “Transylvania. We’re starting with the werewolf s moonlight tour of the forest. Actually, this is a series for the month of October. There will also be an overnight stay in Dracula’s castle and a fix-it seminar with Frankenstein, but I’m calling him Frank N. Stein.” She drew out the name to indicate the middle initial used.

  Patrick chuckled. “I don’t know how you can come up with so many funny ideas.”

  “I’m just glad I’ve resisted drawing a daily strip, because there are times when coming up with an idea for a weekly are bad enough. Holidays are pretty easy, and sometimes ideas crop up. A couple of months ago I drew up a cruise on the refurbished Titanic with the assurance that just because it sank once didn’t mean it would happen a second time.” She headed for her office. “I’ll see you two later.”

  Patrick frowned at the door Alex closed after her. “I can’t believe she truly intends to talk that pompous ass into a marriage proposal.”

  “She might be right, you know,” Marian said softly. “We never did give him a try after that first meeting.”

  “He sat there the entire evening trying to talk me into investing in some South American company that manufactured adult sex toys.” Patrick rolled his eyes. “He kept yammering on how I’d see a large return on my investment within six months. And when I flat out told him no, he implied I didn’t have the assets for such a wonderful investment or the brains to recognize it.” His lips twisted with disgust. “He sat there in his Italian suit and Italian handmade shoes and looked down on me. I’m surprised he wasn’t in on all those junk bonds.”

  “Perhaps he was and got out before it all blew apart,” Marian considered.

  Patrick looked up. “Maybe. I just wish I could talk to my stockbroker.”

  “He’s Alex’s now. She inherited him along with your portfolio.”

  He nodded absently. “Unless…” His eyes widened with horror. “She wouldn’t have handed it all over to that arrogant moron, would she?”

  “You forgot. She couldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “You stipulated in your will that if Alex dared to give her portfolio to anyone other than the four names on your list your broker would end up owning it instead.”

  He grinned at the recollection. “Oh, yes, now I remember. One of my smarter moves. Marian, I agreed we would give the jerk a chance, but that doesn’t mean I’ll like him. My money’s still on Michael Duffy, as soon as we can get the two of them together again.”

  Alex was in the midst of pinning her hair back in loose curls when the doorbell rang.

  “Want us to answer that?” Patrick’s voice was a shade too innocent.

  “No!” She paused to take a deep breath. She’d forgotten her father’s puckish sense of humor. She took another deep breath before walking out to the living room. “Very funny, Dad.” She hesitated at the door as she glanced at her parents standing near the window. “Just give him a chance, okay?”

  “I promised,” Patrick replied, nothing in his face to indicate his emotions.

  She pasted a smile on her lips and pulled open the door. “Jason, right on time, as usual,” she greeted him.

  “Alexis, you look lovely.” He leaned over to brush a light kiss on her lips, careful not to smudge her lipstick. Or have it end up on his mouth.

  “Come in and have a drink.” She stepped back.

  A frown marred his handsome features. “I told you I’d be here at seven-thirty, that we had reservations. I assumed you’d be ready to leave.”

  “I am,” she assured him. “I just thought it wouldn’t hurt for us to relax for a moment.” She gestured to the couch as she sat down, adjusting the folds of her dark red silk dress around her legs.

  Jason stood over her, a handsome man in his late forties with sleekly styled iron-gray hair, brown eyes that could never be described as puppy-dog brown and the lean figure of a man who indulged in daily visits from his personal trainer. He’d risen in his field due to his sharp business sense, cold, calculating mind and an unerring sense of what to do when. And once he’d gained that top rung, he’d done everything possible to remain there. Now he felt it was time to move on to another phase in his life, that of acquiring a suitable wife. In his eyes, the lovely Alexis Cassidy was the perfect choice. Especially once he had her in hand and weaned her away from drawing that deplorable comic strip. His smile revealed expensive dental work and nothing else, because it didn’t reach anywhere near his eyes.

  “I spoke to Leland McKinley today. He’s flying out from New York next week, and if I have any say in the matter he’ll be handing over all his investments to me before he leaves Los Angeles.” His voice was heavily laced with satisfaction and confidence as he went on to tell her about another one of his pending deals.

  “Doesn’t he ever ask you about your day?” Patrick grumbled, glaring at the younger man.

  “Of course,” Alex hissed, then jumped as Jason looked at her strangely.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  She offered him a bleak smile. “Sorry. Something came to mind. Something that happened today.” She waited for him to question her about it.

  He merely nodded and continued with his own tale. This unsettled Alex. That and the glare her father was directing at Jason. A glare she remembered well. Patrick had glared at most of the men she dated. Craig headed the list. She looked down to hide her smile. She reached for one of the cigarettes she kept in an inlaid box on the coffee table when the lid suddenly dropped smartly across her knuckles.

  “Ouch!” She looked up wide-eyed to find her mother standing over her. “Cute, real cute,” she mumbled.

  “Alexis.” Jason’s voice was sharp.

  She looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

  “I said we should leave now if we’re to make our reservations.” He glanced at his watch with impatience.

  She nodded as she stood up. “I’ll get my purse and wrap.”

  As they walked out the door, Alex spared a quick backward glance that said it all. We’ll speak of this later.

  “I hope you don’t mind if we wait up for you,” Patrick called out cheerfully.

  What might have been a gasp was quickly smothered by Alex’s hand.

  “Are you certain you’re all right?” Jason asked as he ushered her into his dark blue Mercedes sedan. “You don’t seem to be yourself this evening. Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. After all, you did say you took a nasty blow to the head only days ago.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. “Actually, I’m glad we have this evening together.” She reached out to caress his arm. “We seem to have so little time together.”

  “We would have more time if you had more evenings free. Perhaps you should arrange your work time more efficiently, so you wouldn’t run into these little scheduling problems.” His voice was tinged with just the right amount of censure meant to make her feel guilty.

  It worked.

  “Jason, you know how crazy things get when I’m up against a deadline,” she explained, suddenly angry with herself for even bothering to explain. “Sometimes, my ideas don’t come easily and I have to work harder at smoothing out my strip. It isn’t as if there haven’t been evenings when you needed to work. I never feel slighted when you have to cancel a date because of business.”

  “That’s different.”

  She bristled. “Different? Why?”

  When he stopped at the red light he reached out, taking her hand and offering her a warm smile. “Darling, we haven’t seen each other in over a week. Let’s not argue, shall we?”

  Alex’s first impulse was to disagree and insist they clear the air. Except she already knew that Jaso
n didn’t believe in arguments. He once told her a disagreement was a waste of time because there could only be one person who was right. And naturally Jason was always right. She ignored the little voice inside her brain taunting her that she was acting like a wimp. This was not the normal Alex Cassidy; she was acting like Alexis Cassidy. Jason didn’t like nicknames, along with fast-food restaurants, horror or science-fiction movies and most especially, heaven forbid, any kind of clothing off the rack. She bit down on her lower lip to forestall any words that might begin a disagreement she would surely lose. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, but deep down she knew it did.

  She mustered up her gracious Alexis smile, although it felt stiff on her lips. “You’re right, darling. Now tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  From then until they reached the restaurant, Jason talked animatedly. They were greeted by the maitre d’ before he guided them to their table, a journey that was frequently interrupted as Jason was hailed by clients and co-workers. This wasn’t unusual, since Jason frequently chose restaurants where he would run into people he knew and people he wanted to know better. He once explained to Alex that being seen in the right places and appearing to be easily accessible was good business. She learned early on that Jason didn’t mind letting their dinners get cold while he chatted with people who stopped by their table. Not as long as he was able to follow up on a hot tip, nab a new client, or do anything else that would build up his investment business.

  “It’s always so lovely here,” Alex murmured, accepting her menu. She opened it, scanning the offerings that changed every day according to the chef’s whims. Naturally there were no prices listed on her menu. The first time she came here she had dreaded what the prices might be. She looked over the top of her menu, idly scanning the room for possible comic-strip subjects. Suddenly her attention stopped and shifted to a comer where two wisps of smoke floated upward and hovered in midair. She uttered a curse she only used under great duress.

  “Alexis?” Jason frowned, looking up from his menu. “Is something wrong?”

  She snapped to attention. “No, nothing. I just thought I saw someone I knew.” She hid behind her menu and when she figured Jason’s attention was diverted she sneaked a glance toward the same corner. The wisps were still there, and as the restaurant didn’t allow smoking, the smoke had no reason to be there.

  “They can’t be here,” she whispered to herself. “There’s no way. Is there?” She racked her brain for any hints of what exactly her parents could and couldn’t do. All she could recall were those two words she’d grown to hate—trade secret.

  “Alexis, are you ready to order?” The impatience in Jason’s voice indicated this wasn’t the first time he’d asked her.

  “Oh, I can’t really decide. Why don’t you choose for me?” Her gaze strayed involuntarily toward that corner. The wisps of smoke were gone. She breathed a sigh of relief. She must have just imagined them.

  The wine steward poured wine for Jason, waiting for his approval before pouring some for Alex. She smiled at the man before picking up her glass.

  “A belated happy birthday, darling.” Jason tapped his glass against hers. “I’m only sorry I was unable to attend your party.”

  Alex thought of the male stripper her friends brought in as a joke. She knew Jason wouldn’t have thought it amusing. “Oh, you probably wouldn’t have enjoyed it very much.”

  “To be honest, I don’t feel entirely comfortable with your friends. I’ve always felt you could do much better than many of the people you associate with,” he went on in the tone of voice that meant what he said was for her own good.

  “Jason, I don’t care to have this discussion again,” she said firmly but gently. “You are talking about people who have been my friends for years. Perhaps you don’t feel they’re appropriate for me, but they’ve been there for me during the good and bad times. I’m certainly not going to cut them off.”

  His eyes cooled. He drew back in his chair. “I’m only thinking of you, Alex. Of our future.”

  “I realize that….” Her attention was diverted by what appeared to be…no, it couldn’t be. It was just her eyes playing tricks. Could that spoon be floating across the room?

  “Alexis.” Jason’s voice sharpened.

  She tore herself away from the intriguing sight. “Jason, did you see… ?” She stopped when she saw the expression on his face. He was not amused. “Never mind.”

  His lips tightened with anger. “I’m beginning to think you still haven’t fully recovered from that concussion. You don’t appear to be listening to one word I’ve been saying.”

  Alex was never so grateful for an interruption as when the waiter appeared with their food. By now it was only too clear. Somehow, her parents had employed their “trade secrets” to sneak into the restaurant and sabotage her dinner with Jason.

  “If they weren’t already dead, I’d kill them with my bare hands!” she muttered, cutting into her meat with savage strokes of the knife. Then she looked down, horrified by the contents of the plate set in front of her. The meat facing her was white with a cream sauce. “Is this halibut?” she whispered.

  He didn’t look up from his meal. “Of course. You eat far too much red meat. You should keep an eye on your cholesterol.”

  Alex was never very picky about her food, except for one thing. She hated halibut with a passion. In fact, she hated most members of the fish family. She knew she once told Jason that, but he merely brushed it off, saying all she had to do was eat more fish to become accustomed to it.

  Jason looked up, a frown marring his handsome features. It was clear he wasn’t happy with her this evening. “Is there something wrong with your fish?”

  She opened her mouth, then quickly closed it. “No, it’s fine.” She speared a piece and quickly put it into her mouth, chewing rapidly. “Just fine.” She snagged her wineglass and downed the contents, swallowing the fish at the same time as if it was nothing more than nasty medicine. Right about now, that’s what it tasted like.

  Jason carefully set down his fork and half leaned across the table. “Alexis, that’s wine you’re drinking so enthusiastically, not water.” His tone carried a warning. “I don’t think you want people to assume you have too much of a fondness for alcohol.”

  She offered a stiff nod. “I’m sorry. It appears not to be my evening.”

  “Not when you act as if the wine is more important than your meal.” He lowered his voice. “The Gladstones are just over there at the next table, and if I play my cards right, he’ll be handing over three million dollars to me. But he won’t be impressed if he sees my date drinking wine as if it was water.”

  His officious statement irritated Alex. Just as too much had irritated her this evening. She was already positive her parents were somewhere in the dining room. She looked around, surveying the area, fearing what might happen next. It wasn’t difficult to miss. The drapes twitched, a waiter halting to rearrange them. They promptly returned to their earlier folds. The next time, a glowering maitre d’ moved forward to fix them. The moment he turned his back, the drapes twitched back. Alex stifled a moan.

  I just bet they’re now sitting with the Gladstones, she thought to herself. Get a hold of yourself, Alex. They ‘re just trying to ruin your dinner with Jason and if you keep acting like this they will have accomplished their objective. Don’t let them win! She took several deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down.

  “Gladstone. Is he the one who bought that plastics firm you spoke about?” She lowered her voice to the pleasant tone Jason always appreciated. The sudden warmth in his eyes told her he was pleased.

  He immediately launched into the story of his machinations and meetings to persuade Isaac Gladstone to hand over a small fortune for investment purposes. It was clear to Alex that Jason was confident he wouldn’t fail.

  Except her attention couldn’t remain on his talk. Not when she happened to look across the room and saw those wisps of smoke again. And they look
ed as if they were moving toward her table! Luckily, before she could do anything further to embarrass herself they disappeared again. Fortunately this time Jason didn’t notice her inattention.

  She cut another tiny bite of halibut and raised it to her lips. She chose a sip of water to wash it down. It was the only way she could finish her meal.

  By the time their plates were whisked away, Jason had relaxed. “I ordered something very special for dessert,” he told her, expectation lighting his dark eyes.

  Very special turned out to be Cherries Jubilee, which a beaming waiter presented to them with a theatrical flourish.

  “Oh, Jason,” Alex breathed, pleased he’d remembered her favorite dessert. She watched eagerly as the waiter lighted the brandy-soaked cherries, the flames whooshing upward. “This is wonderful, Jason.” She viewed the treat before her with delight.

  “I wanted this evening to be very special for us,” he told her, picking up his spoon. “And not just because we’re celebrating your birthday.”

  This is it. He’s going to propose. His birthday gift to me is an engagement ring.

  So why didn’t she feel the excitement she had expected? It was almost anticlimactic, now that she’d led him down the garden path to exactly where she wanted him.

  “We’ve known each other a long time, Alexis,” Jason began. “And I feel during that time we’ve had an excellent chance to know how compatible we truly are.”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  He reached into his jacket pocket. “Therefore—” Whatever he was to say was halted when his dish somehow slid right off the table and onto his lap. Choking back a curse he leapt to his feet, wiping at his slacks with his napkin. Within seconds several waiters swarmed over him and the maitre d’ clucked, murmuring assurances that all would be taken care of by the restaurant’s management.

  “But it wasn’t their fault,” Alex mused, watching the scene unfolding before her like a horror movie. She fully expected to see a monster’s hands rise up from the dishes and pull her down into the depths of a nasty creature’s lair.