Chapter Ten
Somehow I managed to get through a shower and into some decent clothing. Not the dress Pia was hoping for- somehow it's hard to pull off a formfitting cocktail dress with your ribs strapped in two inches of bandaging without screaming. Then Pia attended to my make-up, actually doing a brilliant job in hiding most of the bruising on my face. She fussed with my hair a minute, proclaimed me presentable, and then went to ready herself.
Meanwhile, I headed down to the kitchen where Jaques was already hard at work. Pia might have borrowed his services for the evening with Robert and Dane's blessing, but I only hoped she wouldn't decide to try and hire him out from under them.
"Bonjour mademoiselle," Jaques greeted me. "You look more like ze sirloin steak zen ze ground chuck. Improvement, non?"
"Improvement, yes," I agreed. "So what's for supper?"
He opened up the oven and pulled out a roasting pan to display a rack of lamb. My stomach did a bit of a flip-flop. The way my ribs were feeling, I wasn't certain I was up to partaking of anything else's.
He must have sensed my disappointment because he frowned and said, "Do you not like zees?"
"Oh, no, I like lamb just fine. It's just that, well-" I gestured towards my thickly padded middle with the hand that wasn't bound in the sling.
His eyes dropped to my midriff and you could see the light bulb go on over his head. Nodding vigorously, he said, "So you might have liked ze pork shoulder more, non?"
I laughed. "No!"
Jaques clapped his hands together in excitement. "I have solved ze problem! While ze ozers savor ze succulence of my carré d'agneau, for you, I will make ze ratatouille!"
I eyed him suspiciously. "You don't have a rat under your hat do you?"
"What?"
"Never mind. Don't go to any trouble for me. I'm more than happy to eat the lamb." Although I sincerely doubted I would. My ribs ached at just the thought of it.
He began pushing me out of the kitchen. "Go! Allez vous! Let me work!"
I stumbled out before he could cause me any more harm than I'd already suffered. I wandered around the downstairs rooms until I came upon one that wasn't completely decorated in lavender and feminine poof. This room, unlike any other I had seen in the house, had a definite masculine flair. The walls were lined with bookcases and two wingback armchairs flanked a large stone fireplace. It was here that Bernard found me, sometime later. I was relaxing in one of the wingchairs, staring at nothing in particular, only relishing in the lack of anything feminine in the room.
"Ahh, so there you are," Bernard said upon entering the room. "Pia sent me to look for you. The guests are beginning to arrive."
"The guests?" Suddenly I envisioned more than Jase and the architect Pia had spoken of. Visions of Robert and Dane and Olivia all swarming around had me feeling a bit uneasy. I liked these people, but I wasn't feeling up to it just yet.
"Yes, the architect arrived just a few moments ago. We're still waiting on Jase."
"That's it though, right?"
He chuckled and squeezed my good arm. "I know how you feel. Yes, that's it."
I breathed a sigh of relief and followed him into the living room.
We found Pia and Mike looking closely over the plans he had brought with him.
"You didn't get started without us, did you?" Bernard said in a tone that made it clear he really didn't mind.
Pia looked up from where the two were seated on a sofa, bending over diagrams spread out over the coffee table. "Reid, darling, I was beginning to wonder where you'd gotten off to. Reid, Mike Holbeck. Mike, this is Reid Larson, the artist I was telling you about."
Mike rose from the sofa and stuck out a hand, "Nice to meet you, Reid. I've heard so much about you."
And I about him. And Pia hadn't been lying. He was a hunk. He was a hunk of hunk. The guy was dead hot. Tall, muscular, tanned, with a square jaw and brown hair with glints of gold. When he smiled he showed off a line of straight, white teeth that I half expected to sparkle they were so perfect. He was the stuff romance novels were made of.
I forced myself to take a deep breath and then expelled the air in one, long exhale.
I have to admit I was a little shaky when I took his hand to return the handshake. "Nice to meet you, too."
"Pia says you're a fabulous artist. I'd love to see your work sometime."
I blushed a little. "I'll be glad to show it to you. Though most of what I had has already sold. I am working on a few new pieces though."
"Remind me later, Mike, and I'll show you the piece I bought," Pia offered. "It's fantastic. It's called, 'Ghost of the Manor.'"
"I can't wait." He grinned again.
I turned away and began repeating Jase's name like a mantra in my brain.
Speaking of, where was that man?
We spent several long moments reviewing the various designs Mike had brought. The man was an overachiever- he had brought three different designs with him, all of which were phenomenal in their own way. It was going to be hard to choose one. Although, naturally, I wasn't going to put in my two cents. It was Pia's house and Pia's money. She should be the one to decide in the end.
"The one thing I've noticed, Mike," Pia was saying, "is that all three designs call for digging."
He laughed. "Well, that's kind of essential if you want me to pour a foundation. And foundations, well they're not just for code, they kind of help hold the room up."
"How much will that slow the progress?"
"Not as much as having the new attachment fall off the existing building."
"Well, that would be most unfortunate, now wouldn't it?" Bernard said.
"Most," Mike agreed.
"Fine, fine," Pia fluttered her hands. "That just means you'll have to stay here longer," she then said to me.
"What?" For the first time I entered the conversation. "What do you mean stay here longer?"
"When I said one or two months, I wasn't considering a complete excavation. That will take much longer. But no worries! While Mike is hard at work, you will be basking in the comfort of my home without a care in the world!"
Somehow, I couldn't imagine myself being overly comfortable living under Pia's thumb for God only knew how long. But I couldn't exactly say that. Instead, what I said was something akin to, "Mmmggfftttt." Or something nearly as intelligible.
Bernard came to my rescue. "Darling, I believe what Reid is trying to tell you, is that she appreciates her privacy. There is such a thing as too much togetherness."
Again with the hand fluttering. "Nonsense. Reid and I get on like two peas in a pod. She's the Watson to my Sherlock."
"Didn't Watson try to shoot Sherlock once?" I said. I didn't know if that were true or not, I was just making it up. But it sounded plausible.
"No. But I believe Sherlock shot Watson's dog. Or something to the effect. I just remember the poor bugger lying there with his tongue hanging out in the movie. I'm not sure that ever happened in the books though."
Way to miss the point, Pia.
"Whatever you decide," Mike rejoined the conversation, "we'll try to make the construction as limited as possible. Should you decide to remain in your home, we will certainly work around that and try to avoid as much disruption as we can."
"I should go check on Jaques," Pia announced, obviously more concerned with the dinner arrangements than any that had to be made regarding my residence. Of course she wasn't concerned. In Pia's mind the decision was made. Pia hath spoken.
Bernard, Mike and I continued to discuss the plans, the two men weighing and measuring the benefits of each until they finally had the decision down to two.
At that time Pia rejoined us, Gloria hot on her heels. I was surprised it had taken her so long to make her presence known.
"Ooohhh, the eye candy returned!" Gloria rejoiced, repositioning herself to bob directly above the architect. "Just look at those shoulders."
I was trying not to.
"And did you get a load of those arms? The man's got biceps
bigger than my thighs!"
I shot her a dirty look, but otherwise made no response.
"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes," Pia announced, quickly followed by, "Bernard, what are you doing with those plans?" She was, of course, referring to the one that Bernard and Mike had ruled out.
"We came down to these two," Mike informed her, obviously not having picked up on the dynamics between Pia and Bernard.
Or Pia and everyone else for that matter.
Pia picked up the cast off design and set it back with the others. "Nothing has been decided yet, so don't deceive yourselves into thinking otherwise. Now, why don't we take a break from schematics and adjourn to the dining room?"
Gloria shifted closer to me for a better angle on Mike as he arose from the sofa and stretched. I looked away as his shirt strained across his very muscular chest threatening to pop at least a few of his buttons.
"Mmm, yummy!" Gloria enthused. "If I was alive, what I couldn't teach that boy! I'd give him a spanking that he'd never forget!"
"What about Jase?" I all but shouted in a strangled voice. Everyone looked at me a little oddly at my sudden outburst. Who could blame them? They had no idea what was going on in my demented brain, not to mention Gloria's even more twisted one.
"All you feeling all right, dear?" Pia fixed me with a concerned stare.
"Oh, yeah. Just wondering what's keeping Jase."
"Oh, I'm sure he'll be along soon. I can't imagine what's keeping him. But I simply cannot hold dinner off any longer. Jaques will have a fit. You know how he is."
I knew exactly how he was. The problem was, I also knew how Pia was.
And my suspicions were confirmed when we sat at the table, 'boy, girl, boy, girl,' per Pia's insistence, with Mike on my right side and Pia and Bernard across from us. I did note that there was another place setting at the end of the table, presumably for Jase, but that didn't settle any of my returning misgivings.
"Pia, you did invite Jase didn’t you? I mean, you didn't forget or something?"
"How on earth could I forget such a thing?"
"Easy," Gloria said from where she was bobbing along the ceiling, a la Mary Poppins' tea party. "She forgot 'cause she was trying to set you up with Mr. Architecturally Pleasing Architect."
"That was a bit of a stretch, wasn't it? I mean you were really reaching for that one."
Everyone was staring at me before I realized I had just spoken to Gloria.
Aloud.
Blame it on the drugs.
"I'm sorry dear, I don't think I get what you mean?" Pia asked completely befuddled. No doubt, she wasn't certain whether or not she had been insulted.
Gloria just giggled.
"What? I mean, it was a bit of a stretch you forgetting anything. You never forget. You’re like an elephant."
Dear Lord, I was digging myself deeper and deeper. If everyone just let me go, Mike wouldn't have to bring in an excavation team for that foundation.
"While I sincerely do not appreciate any comparison of myself to an overly large, wild beast, I'll forgive you as I'm quite certain you're not yourself with everything that you've undergone lately." She finished the statement with a not-so-subtle eye roll that told me she clearly understood Gloria was in the room.
Thank God, for that at least.
"So, Mike," Bernard changed the subject, "I recognize your surname. Haven’t the Holbecks been involved in construction for some time?"
"Yes. My grandfather started the company forty years ago, then it was passed to an uncle before it fell to me. I was lucky in that my uncle continued to run the company while I pursued my degree in architecture before I took over."
"Is architecture something you always knew you wanted to do?"
The two men held the conversation while Jaques began serving our first course of vichyssoise. As usual, I found my appetite instantly and dug in, enjoying my food and allowing the conversation to flow on around me.
We were on the main course, which I was tucking into with the same gusto as I had my soup (I might have scraped the bowl clean if I hadn't thought that Pia would faint dead away at the sight- but I was going to have to see if Jaques had any leftovers), before the conversation was directed my way.
"I love a girl who isn't shy about her food," Mike smiled at me. "I hate those girls who always pick at a leaf or two of lettuce in their salad and say, 'Oh, I'm full.' I find it so false. You just know they're going home and pigging out afterwards."
Now first, let me say, this false platitude is the sort of thing that always annoys me about men. I can even recall having once threatened to dump a plate of spaghetti on Jase's head should he make even the merest mention of an, 'I love a girl with an appetite,' kind of line. It's garbage.
That aside, had Mike bothered to look across the table he might have noticed that Pia was doing precisely what he had described. Maybe not with lettuce leaves, but it was virtually the same thing. He may have just put his foot in it where Pia was concerned.
I waited for the controlled British explosion that I was certain was about to take place and was shocked when several seconds passed without word one from Pia.
Strange. That was not at all like her. Pia was never without words.
Unless, somehow, she hadn't read into the comment the way I had? Maybe I was just being sensitive.
"I hope I haven't insulted you?" Mike said to me then, obviously uncomfortable with the dead silence that had followed his remark.
"No, not at all," I told him.
I was still trying to figure out if I was being overly sensitive when Jase's voice cut across the room. "Well, isn't this cozy?" he said from where he stood in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe. There was a definite sarcastic bite to his tone.
"Welcome to our world," Pia said. "I know our ways may seem strange to you, but soon you'll begin to understand why we cater to such trivial social conventions such as greeting people when you enter a room. These simple conventions bring order and structure to a world that might otherwise dwindle into chaos."
Now she was insulted?
"Huh?"
"She said hello," I frowned at Pia.
She frowned back.
It was Bernard who motioned Jase to the empty seat waiting at the end of the table. "Please, Jase, join us."
"As long as I'm not interrupting. Everyone always hates the fifth wheel." He seemed perturbed. Peeved. Piqued. And otherwise annoyed.
What the hell?
Wait?! Was he jealous?
While I was finding it hard to believe any man would feel territorial about me of all people- me- the accident prone, bad luck jinx, harbinger of doom, newly shorn sheep. Me!
Wow.
"I don't know about that. I certainly appreciate having a spare on my car." Pia said, missing the point entirely. When I looked at her closer, I began to wonder if she was missing the point. Although she seemed to like Jase personally, there was still the fact that he was a police detective to contend with, and Pia didn't hold policemen in general in high regard. Maybe she was still considering Mike as his replacement.
"Pia, my dearest," Bernard said to his wife, in the sternest tone I'd ever heard him use, "could you run to the kitchen and have Jaques bring out Jase's food?"
"Certainly. Would you like to start with the soup course, or just continue from where we are?"
"Don't go to any trouble on my account. Whatever you're having now will be fine."
While Pia went to the kitchen, Bernard performed introductions, which was just fine by me since I was still more than a little rattled by the thought that Jase might be jealous. And that Pia might still be trying to replace him.
"Oh yeah, I can see the green eyes from here," Gloria said. "That man is seething with envy. Positively seething!"
"Here we are," Pia reentered the room with Jaques close on her heels.
"I am sorry zees eez not my best work. Eet ees very hard to keep zee rack of lamb warm wizout overcooking eet." Jaques was almo
st as peeved as Jase seemed.
Jase just looked from the food that Jaques had served him, to my half-empty plate of ratatouille and said, "Why is yours different?"
Luckily Jaques hadn't heard him as he was already bustling back into the kitchen, otherwise he might have offered to make Jase the same thing, but thrown a fit all the while he did it. Quickly I explained about my disinterest in ribs lately and Jaques' generosity in accommodating me.
"You seem to have all the men wrapped around your little finger, don't you?" was all Jase said before beginning to eat.
I was helpless and it was Pia who came to my rescue, attempting to change the subject. "So what was it exactly that kept you, Jase?"
He looked over at her. "Nothing much, just the hazards of the job. Crime doesn't stop just because you have dinner plans."
"No, naturally not. Still, I'm sorry you hadn't an opportunity to call. We might have been able to put off the dinner a bit longer. These cell towers are flighty things though, aren't they?"
It was definitely a challenge. Pia had thrown down the gauntlet.
I glared at her.
I was fairly certain Bernard kicked her under the table as she suddenly jolted and slightly winced, an aside from a gas pang I could come up with no other explanation for it.
Jase cocked an eyebrow at her. "You know, in all honesty I couldn't tell you if I had a signal, I never even checked my cell. The force frowns on my handling personal business on company time, as it were. For some reason, they think investigating crime is more important than any dinner party I might be attending."
Pia returned the cocked eyebrow. "Touché. Still, I'm glad you could make it."
One had to wonder.
"Thank you for having me."
"Ah, he's beginning to learn our ways."
"We've been discussing the plans for remodeling the guest house," Bernard interrupted.
"Actually," Pia frowned his way, "we were taking a break from that."
"You're remodeling?" Jase asked.
"Oh, I thought you knew. Well, no worries. Pia wants to add a room to the guest house. A studio. Something more suitable for Reid to pursue her painting."
"Reid never mentioned it."
"Well, to be fair, I kind of had this whole car-crushing-me-into-a-building thing going on, so it just sort of slipped my mind."
Mike dropped his fork. It clanged heavily off the table and onto the floor.
"Should I pick it up for him?" Gloria floated closer to the table.
I tossed her a 'Don't you dare!' look, but otherwise held my tongue.
"I'm sorry," Mike flushed a little as he apologized for the ruckus he had made. "Did you say you were hit by a car?"
"Car-me-building." I performed a little show and tell by clapping my hands roughly together. It hurt. But it was worth it judging by the blanching of Jase's face.
Slipping my arm back into the sling, I continued, "I just got out of the hospital a few days ago. Which is why I failed to mention the remodel. Not really on the top of my list of priorities."
Mike gave a low whistle. "I'd guess not! Well, I'm glad you're okay. You are okay?"
"Couple of fractured ribs, some bumps and bruises and a little shoulder damage. But, on the bright side, only a mild concussion."
At this everyone at the table laughed, but Mike. His confusion was palpable which led Pia to explain. "You don't know our dear, Reid. She's taken more blows to the head than a heavyweight boxer, so the concussion thing's kind of a running joke."
"Oh I see," he said, even though it was evident that he did not.
Jase warmed to me a little then, and slipping a hand across the table to cover mine, he said, "Reid keeps me on my toes; that's for sure."
Either Pia's comment about Mike not knowing me had assured him there was nothing untoward going on, or, my deliberate guilt trip reminder of my recent crisis had brought him around. Whatever it was, I was happy to have him acting normally again.
We finished our meal, topped with a divine dessert of chocolate mousse (I would never tire of the stuff) and returned to the living room where they were back at the plans once more. I was sitting beside Jase on the sofa and at some point I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Jase and I were in the living room alone.
"I was wondering when you were gonna wake up," he murmured.
"Sorry," I yawned, pulling myself to a sitting position from the more comfortable one I'd had leaning against his shoulder.
"S'okay."
"Where'd everybody go?"
"Mike the mechanic went home," Jase's expression of distaste could not be more pronounced if he'd tried.
"He's an architect. And a contractor."
"Whatever. Pia and Bernard went to bed about an hour ago."
"How long have I been asleep?"
"About two hours. Give or take."
"God, I hope I didn't snore."
"Nope. And the drool was minimal."
I frowned.
"He ain't kidding. It was like looking at a Mastiff," Gloria piped up pointing at the small wet spot on Jase's shoulder. "Way to mark your man." I shot her a dirty look.
Why was she still hanging out if Pia had gone to bed? Wasn't she supposed to be haunting Pia? I would have told her so if it hadn't been for Jase. Instead I said, "Oops. My bad."
"No problem." He stretched and rose from the couch. "But I do need to be heading home. Work in the morning."
I followed him to the door, shared a few goodnight kisses, and headed upstairs to my bedroom. Or at least what was going to be my bedroom until the remodel was done, if Pia had her way.
And let's be real. She would.