Jennifer Crusie Bundle Read online

  “My guess? The mayor.” Joe picked up his coffee cup. “The word is that the new city building is dead. You cost that man a lot of money. And then there’s Roger Preston who is pretty sure to be indicted on price-fixing.” He frowned. “You really did tell the world you were sleeping with Allie? That’s not like you.”

  “It slipped.” Charlie stared down at the paper. The mayor and Roger Preston were good guesses, but there were also these drug rumors about the station he kept tripping over. Anyone who wanted him fired would figure that bad publicity would make Bill get rid of him. Maybe he had another enemy. “Suppose it wasn’t the mayor or Preston. Suppose it was somebody else who was mad at me. Who else would have this kind of clout?”

  “I don’t know.” Joe stood up and carried his coffee cup to the sink. “I should think the mayor and Preston would be enough for anybody. Why did you tell the world about Allie?”

  Charlie groaned, remembering. “We have a bet. We’re going to be celibate for a month and see who gives in first.”

  Joe snorted with laughter. “That should be a close call. Whatever possessed you to do something like that?”

  “Allie,” Charlie said gloomily. “Ever since I met her, I’ve been doing one dumb thing after another.”

  “A smart man would leave her alone,” Joe pointed out.

  “Well, that’s what I’m going to be doing for the next month,” Charlie said.

  Then Allie shuffled out, her hair all tousled. “You know, it took me forever to fall asleep last night. This is all your fault.”

  Charlie winced. “Thanks, I needed that.” He tossed the paper to her and stood up to go. “Here. Read this. Things just keep getting better and better for us.”

  CHARLIE WAS SLIGHTLY more cheerful when he went on the air that night. “And a great big thank-you to all of you folks who called in last night to say that my significant other has rocks in her head and that men are much stronger than women. And for the other half of you who supported Allie, hey, just wait.

  “I’d also like to thank Allie for wearing the most disgusting bathrobe she could find this morning and for not combing her hair before breakfast. Say what you will about the little lady, she plays fair. And now, just for Allie, here’s the Pointer Sisters.”

  He shoved the slide up and “Slow Hand” began.

  Harry ambled in on his way home. “You might want to keep your joviality level down a little,” he said, passing over Charlie’s coffee. “That way, when you get crazy later in the month, the change won’t be so noticeable.”

  “So, you’re on Allie’s side,” Charlie said. “I’m hurt.”

  “In general, no,” Harry said. “In this case, yes. You’ll never make it.”

  “Hey,” Charlie said. “Look at me. Do I look tense?”

  “It’s only been forty-eight hours,” Harry said. “Give it some time. I got a lot of money on Allie, but I’m not worried.”

  Charlie jerked his head up. “Money? They’re making book on this in the station?”

  “The hell with the station. They’re making book on it on the street.”

  “Oh, great.” Charlie slumped back into his chair. “So how am I doing?”

  Harry shook his head. “You’re a very long shot, my friend. If she gives in first, there are going to be some very rich gamblers in this city.”

  “What if we both make it to the thirty-first?”

  “Practically no one’s taking that one.”

  “A month is not that long,” Charlie said.

  Harry turned to go, grinning. “Tell me that on the thirtieth.” He stopped at the door. “I probably shouldn’t do this, since it might screw up my bet, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to crack. So, if it gets bad, living with her, you can come stay at my place. I’ve got lots of room.”

  “This is going to be no problem,” Charlie assured him.

  “Yeah, well, the offer stands,” Harry said.

  Charlie watched Harry stop to talk to Allie on the way out. She grinned up at Harry and pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, and Charlie felt the old warmth that he always felt when she was around. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t going to see her. It was just sex. He had things to investigate, anyway. He really didn’t have time for her. No problem.

  “No problem at all,” Charlie said to the empty booth.

  AFTER THE SHOW, Charlie went home and tried the couch again, lasting until four-thirty this time before he climbed into bed with Allie again, closing his eyes as he felt her body warm and soft next to his. And waking up with her was doubly painful the next morning when she stirred next to him, and he felt dizzy even though he was lying down.

  You’ve got to get out of here, he told himself as he headed to the shower. Dieters did not live at the Sara Lee factory. He picked up the phone and dialed Harry.

  HARRY LIVED in a split-level in a housing development full of tricycles and swing sets. Charlie dropped his duffel in the living room and looked around at the chintz furniture and flower paintings.

  “You know,” he told Harry. “This is not how I pictured you living. Flowered couches?”

  “Sheila picked them out,” Harry said. “Want a beer?”

  “Always.” Charlie followed him out to the kitchen. “Who’s Sheila?”

  “My wife.”

  Harry opened the refrigerator, and Charlie saw a twelve-pack, cheese spread and a piece of pizza. He spared one longing thought for the glory of Joe’s refrigerator, and then took the beer Harry handed him. “You have a wife?”

  “Well, I used to. I came home one day and found a note that she’d gone to her mother’s.”

  “Oh.” Charlie followed him back into the spotless living room. “Well, she must stop by to clean. The place looks great.”

  Harry stretched out in the recliner. “That’s Mrs. Squibb. Comes by twice a week. Don’t leave anything lying around. She throws it out.”

  “Oh,” Charlie said again. “So your wife is…uh…”

  “Gone,” Harry said. “I waited a couple of weeks and called her, and she said, ‘See, Harry, this is just what I meant. You don’t even notice me.’ And I told her I noticed her. I was just busy. The divorce papers came the next week.” Harry shook his head. “I still think it was a mistake. And who knows, she might be back.”

  “Well, sure,” Charlie said, still lost. “How long has she been gone?”

  Harry frowned, counting back. “Uh, thirteen years.”

  Charlie stared at him for a minute, trying to decide if he was kidding or not. With Harry, it was hard to tell. “No offense, Harry, but if I were you, I’d make a contingency plan.”

  “I’m thinking about it.” Harry stretched out in his chair, obviously a happy man. “What about you and Allie?”

  “What about us?” Charlie said guardedly.

  “You still leaving in November?”

  “Yep.” Charlie drank his beer. “What do you do for dinner around here?”

  “Order out,” Harry said. “You want pizza, burgers, or Chinese?”

  “Not Chinese,” Charlie said. “Anything but Chinese.”

  CHARLIE DECIDED that the only way to stay sane was to stay away from Allie. The bet was an excellent idea since he was leaving in November, anyway, so all he had to do was avoid her for the rest of the month, kiss her goodbye on November first, and leave her with great memories. At least he hoped her memories were great.

  His were phenomenal.

  But that way lay madness, so he deliberately shut her out of his mind and avoided her for the rest of the week, waving to her from the booth and making sure any conferences they had were in public. In his free time, he tried to track down the drug rumor and find out who’d sabotaged his tapes. The favorite for the last one was Mark, and Charlie would have loved to pin the drug charge on him, too—those were awfully expensive suits he was wearing on a DJ’s salary—but he couldn’t see Mark as the brains of a drug ring. Actually, he couldn’t see Mark as the brains of a Jell-O ring.

  Wh