Low Country Liar Read online

  "But not often enough to wear out your welcome." Her tongue seemed to be running away with her, maybe because she had held it in all day.

  "I hope not." But this time his smile didn't reach his eyes, eyes that had gone blank and shuttered.

  "You couldn't possibly do that, Slade," Mitzi laughed, missing or overlooking the tiny barbs in Lisa's remarks. "Mildred and I love having you here. You couldn't come often enough. I would be delighted if you looked on this as your second home. You should. After all, you're responsible — directly and indirectly — for all that's been done here."

  "Of course, how could I have forgotten?" The words were out before Lisa could check them.

  She seemed bent on a course of self-destruction, making Slade an enemy and arousing his suspicions. Maybe it was true that those who do wrong really want to be caught.

  Lisa only knew she had gone too far to reverse direction now. "Mitzi told me that you persuaded her to reopen the house and supervised the remodeling and redecorating. Naturally you would be familiar with everything, wouldn't you?

  "A house in this neighborhood of Old Charleston is an investment. Besides, it would have been a shame to let this beautiful home become a derelict of the past," Slade replied.

  "I agree with you completely," said Mitzi. "In fact I did the first time you suggested it, Slade, but I would never have attempted it on my own. Not that I couldn't have done it, but it's so time-consuming. You know how I dislike details, Lisa," she laughed at herself. "If Slade hadn't intervened to take charge of the workmen and various trades, I doubt if I would have fixed the old place up simply because I don't like the hassle that's inevitable."

  "Yes," Lisa agreed. "You were lucky to have Slade take care of all that." She turned to him, a saccharine smile curving her mouth. "Ever since Mitzi has moved back to Charleston, all her letters have been singing your praises. You've become quite indispensable to her."

  "I think Mitzi and I have become good friends. The purpose of friendship is to help each other when help is needed." There was a challenging set to his jaw although his voice remained quite calm and steady. "Now that Mitzi's on her own, without a man to look after her, I try to do what I can to help."

  "I'm sure you do," Lisa taunted softly, and his gaze narrowed with piercing thoughtfulness.

  "Believe me, I appreciate it," Mitzi stated. "I'm not interested in business and finances. I don't want to be bothered with investment credits and capital gains and stock dividends. It's a relief to turn it all over to Slade, I'm afraid I've rather taken advantage of his good nature, though."

  "It must be wonderful to have someone you can trust so implicitly." Lisa thought the real point was who was taking advantage of whom? "It must be an awesome responsibility for you … Slade —" she hesitated a bare second over his Christian name "— to have virtually sole control of someone else's money."

  "Yes, it is," he agreed.

  Lisa saw his mouth tighten and knew her gibes had to be getting close to their mark. She really should keep quiet, but she was deriving such fiendish delight out of antagonizing him.

  Her subconscious seemed to have come up with a daring battle plan. While Lisa Talmadge attacked him boldly head on, Ann Eldridge could sneak up on him from behind.

  "Lisa thinks I'm too trusting," Mitzi sighed in amusement. "But I'd rather be that way than the reverse. And of course, she doesn't know you as I do."

  The invisible darts Lisa had been tossing hadn't escaped her aunt's attention. Neither did she seem upset by them. Yet, in the acknowledgment, there was a hint for a truce, however temporary.

  "You're too trusting," Lisa reaffirmed, but gently and with affection. "It would be too easy for someone you like to take advantage of you."

  Her subtle accusation against Slade Blackwell had been made, but not in a way that he could take open offense. He didn't like it — Lisa could tell by the hardening of his dark features.

  "May I fix you another drink, Mitzi?" Slade rose from his chair, carrying his emptied glass.

  "I don't believe so." Mitzi swirled her drink, ice cubes clinking against the side with the agitation of the liquid. "I still have some left, but help yourself by all means."

  "I think I will," he said grimly, walking to the trolley cart. "In one way or another, it's been a long; tiring day."

  You can say that again, Lisa thought, remembering the chaos in the office that afternoon.

  The telephone had hardly ever stopped ringing, and clients kept stopping in expecting to talk to Slade whether they had appointments or not. It had taken forever to finish typing those letters, or so it seemed. The legal briefs weren't even half-completed.

  "I never did have a chance to ask you how your day was, Lisa," Mitzi turned to her, curious and interested. "You left a message with Mildred that you were going to visit some friends. Did they take you sightseeing?"

  "We were going to go after lunch," Lisa lied again, "but we got to talking. One thing led to another and before I knew it the afternoon was gone."

  "I wasn't aware that you had friends living here in Charleston," Slade commented.

  "College chums," Mitzi inserted.

  "Yes, Susan, Peg and I were roommates in college." Lisa hoped that wherever they were, they didn't mind her using them in her story. "We're planning to make a day of it tomorrow since they're on vacation, too," she said, establishing a reason for her absence tomorrow.

  "You must invite them over some time. I'd like to meet them," her aunt suggested.

  "I'll do that," Lisa smiled. What else could she say?

  From the archway came the sound of someone clearing her throat to attract attention, and Lisa glanced over her shoulder to see the unsmiling face of the housekeeper framed in the opening.

  "If you'd all come into the dining room, I'll dish up the soup," she announced gruffly.

  "We're coming," Mitzi agreed, and Slade was at the older woman's side when she rose from her chair.

  "Did you fix my favorite, Mildred?" There was a teasing lightness to Slade's question.

  Lisa was surprised to see the housekeeper flustered by his inquiry. There was a definite pink in her cheeks, which she tried to hide by turning away.

  "It's she-crab soup, if that's what you're asking," she retorted.

  Not only was her aunt under his spell, Lisa realized, but the housekeeper was as well. Lisa had not thought anything or anyone could pierce that armor of weary indifference that Mildred wore. The more she thought about it, as they followed the housekeeper into the dining room, the more logical it became that Slade Blackwell should cultivate the housekeeper's affection. Plus Slade was the one who had hired Mildred. She would naturally feel a certain sense of obligation and loyalty to him for obtaining this position. He would want an ally in the household to keep him informed. Mildred was being used as surely as her aunt was. The man was completely without scruples. But Lisa was determined that things were not going to go his way any longer.

  The dining room was a formal, yet comfortable room. There were three accesses to the room: a set of double doors that opened into the living room; another set opening into the hallway; and a third door to the kitchen; The rich luster of the woodwork and furniture was enhanced by the subtle pattern of the embossed wallpaper, a shade of peach. The crystal teardrops of the chandelier cast refracted light rays on the high beamed ceiling.

  The leaves had been removed from the carved oak table to seat the three of them comfortably without a long stretch of white linen tablecloth to separate them. As Slade courteously held out the chair at the head of the table for Mitzi, Lisa walked around them to sit on her aunt's right.

  Reaching for the carved wood of the chair back, her hand instead touched the back of his. Lisa drew it back in surprise, as if encountering a hot flame. Slade was directly behind her, an arm curved around to pull out the chair for her. She glanced at him, his dark eyes taunting, and an inner radar system seemed to clang in alarm at his closeness.

  A built-in defense mechanism made Lisa ste
p quickly aside to elude the force of his male presence. "Thank you," she murmured tightly as he held out the chair for her. Her shoulders felt the brush of his hard fingers through the thin material of her dress, her nerve ends quivering in reaction.

  It was purely a physical response, regardless of the fact that she disliked him intensely. Lisa recognized that and hoped that forewarned was to be forearmed. She had never been accused of being a prude. She was well aware that she possessed a passionate nature.

  In the past, she had met men she found physically attractive but for one reason or another had not liked personally, and she had always managed to control her reactions. She could do it again. She would not be ensnared by his sex appeal and lose sight of what he was as a man.

  He was seated across the table from her, and she realized she had been staring at him quite openly, a fact he was well aware of as he watched her with masked alertness. For a panicked second, Lisa thought he could tell what she had been thinking. More than once she had been informed that her expressive green eyes revealed what she was thinking and feeling. Stormy green when she was angry, sparkling with a million tiny lights when she was happy, a murky green when she was troubled, a mysterious clear green when she was fascinated with something or attracted to someone.

  But that wasn't the case this time, she remembered thankfully. The smoke blue sunglasses hid her thoughts. He didn't know of her vulnerability to him physically. But it was something Ann Eldridge would have to watch, since she didn't have the benefit of sunglasses.

  "You were saying you had a rough day at the office, Slade," Mitzi commented, making the opening gambit of table conversation. "You were busy?"

  "No more so than usual," he replied, and Lisa didn't think that augured well for tomorrow. "It's just that both Bob and Mary Lou are gone, which puts an extra workload on the rest of us."

  "Vacation?" Mitzi leaned back in her chair as an unhurried Mildred began serving the aromatically steaming cups of soup.

  "No, Mary Lou's parents were in an auto accident," Slade explained. "Her father was killed outright and her mother is in very serious condition in the hospital. So I'm stuck with a temporary girl as my secretary, which louses up the office routine even more."

  "That's hardly her fault." Lisa instinctively defended her own inadequacies in the position.

  "I didn't say that it was her fault," he corrected with dry sharpness. "But it would have been considerably easier on all of us if I could have obtained some trained help instead of this secretary who's virtually a novice."

  "Trained help?" Lisa bridled at the term. "You make it sound as if she's supposed to be a trained dog that jumps through hoops on your command. You should give her credit for doing the very best she can."

  A dark brow quirked in arrogant speculation. "Are you always so quick to defend people you've never met?"

  Lisa realized she had been too vocal in her defense of the supposedly unknown secretary. She quickly dipped her spoon in the soup to conceal the intensity of her interest.

  "Let's just say that I always support the underdog, especially if she's a woman." But the words came out sharp and argumentative despite her desire to sound casual and offhand.

  "Are you one of those feminists?" There was dry laughter in his voice and the glitter of mockery in his eyes.

  Stiffening, Lisa returned his look coldly. "Are you one of those chauvinists?"

  "I guess it was too much to hope for that you two wouldn't clash," Mitzi sighed, glancing from one to the other. Her expression was a mixture of regret and amusement.

  "We aren't clashing, exactly." Lisa regretted her challenging outburst, but only because it had been issued in front of her aunt. "We simply have different points of view."

  "Perhaps not as different as you think." His tone suggested some mysterious message that Lisa was supposed to understand, but she didn't.

  And she said so. "I don't think that's true."

  "You indicated that you don't believe I'm giving this temporary girl a chance, when the opposite is true, especially if she continues to show a willingness to learn. But I certainly can't be blamed for saying that it's inconvenient in the meantime to have inexperienced help," Slade concluded, so reasonably that it set Lisa's teeth on edge.

  Lisa doubted that he really meant a single word he said and had only made the remark for Mitzi's benefit. Chameleonlike, he would change his stand on anything to one that her aunt would approve.

  "Tell me about Mary Lou's replacement," Mitzi requested, "What is she like? She seems to have impressed you even though you claim she's a novice."

  "She's young." His gaze flicked briefly to Lisa, and she held her breath, knowing he was making a fleeting comparison between herself and her alter ego, Ann Eldridge. "In her early twenties, about Lisa's age, I would guess. She has bright red hair, very attractive and eyes the color of —"

  "Isn't that typical?" Lisa rushed to interrupt him, fearful Mitzi would make a comment about her own green eyes if Slade mentioned Ann's. "You ask a man to describe a woman and immediately he gives a physical description, judging a woman on her looks instead of her ability. They'll forgive a lack of brains if a woman is beautiful."

  "Lisa!" her aunt admonished softly.

  "That's quite all right, Mitzi. I understand what Lisa is saying." Slade dismissed the need for reproof. The look he gave Lisa was one of an adult indulging in the temper tantrum of a child, which did little to improve her disposition. "This new secretary happens to have brains as well as beauty. The reason I didn't boast about her skills is because she doesn't have any. I would be surprised if she can type thirty-five words a minute."

  "Then why keep her on?" Lisa challenged. It was pure bravado since she might be providing him with the thought of firing Ann Eldridge and that would be cutting her own throat.

  "Because she has a remarkable ability to handle several things at once without ever becoming distracted or flustered. That's a valuable asset," he stated. "When Mary Lou does return, she'll probably have a backlog of correspondence to type, but at least I don't have to be out there holding the new girl's hand."

  "If she's as attractive as you say," Mitzi teased, "maybe that's unfortunate."

  "Sorry," Slade smiled, "but she's married. Very happily, I understand."

  "That's a pity," her aunt responded. "It sounds as if that was one girl who might have kept up with your many and varied interests."

  "I guess that's something I won't find out." He shrugged. "How's the new novel coming along?

  "Marvelously!" her aunt declared enthusiastically, and the topic of conversation was switched.

  As far as Lisa was concerned, the dinner was spoiled by Slade's presence. She took little part in the discussion, a fact that Mitzi didn't seem to notice as she warmed to the subject of her latest book. Slade pretended to concentrate on what her aunt was saying, but Lisa was intensely conscious of how often his piercing gaze was focused on her. It was disconcerting, like being under a microscope.

  "Mildred, we'll have our coffee in the living room," Mitzi informed the housekeeper when they had finished dessert. "That way Slade can add a little brandy to his." She laughed briefly, and changed the subject, hardly drawing a breath in the transition.

  "I wanted to show you the review of my latest book, too. It's in my study."

  "I'll get it for you," Lisa volunteered quickly, eager for a few minutes alone.

  "Would you mind?" The absent question by Mitzi was answered by a shake of Lisa's head. "It's in the pile of papers on the right-hand side of my desk. Somewhere in the middle; I think."

  "I'll find it," she assured her aunt, hastily retreating while Mitzi and Slade started for the living room.

  Study was a loose term since there wasn't anything about the room that resembled a study with the exception of the abundance of books. In this room, the creative side of Mitzi's personality surfaced amidst a clutter of papers, notes, books and magazines. Yet it was definitely a feminine room, painted a bright, cheery yellow. A flowere
d sofa repeated the color. In a corner by a window sat a small, round table, painted white with a white cane-backed chair beside it. It was where Mitzi had her coffee and noon lunches.

  There were no shelves of books, as such. They were stacked in every corner and scattered on every piece of furniture, along with scraps of paper. A typewriter was on a long counter-style table. The table's surface was buried beneath papers, pencils, carbons and more books. There was a desk in the room, but its use seemed to be confined to being a catchall for more material,

  There were three stacks of papers in all shapes and sizes on the right-hand side of the desk. Naturally Lisa found the newspaper clipping in the last stack she went through. Restoring the stack to its former ordered disorder, she turned to leave.

  The study door opened as she made her turn and Slade walked in. For an instant, Lisa was too surprised to react. She stood in front of the desk, holding the paper and staring.

  The click of the door latch closing seemed to suddenly isolate them from the rest of the house. Her pulse rocketed in alarm. The muscles of her throat constricted and she couldn't speak as he pinned her with his gaze.

  "Did Mitzi send you in here?" She swallowed tightly, not certain why she was afraid.

  "No, I came on my own." There was hardly a crack in his granite-hard features as he spoke.

  "There was no need." Lisa raised her chin in a gesture of defiance, her shattered poise beginning to piece itself together. "I found the clipping finally."

  "So I see," Slade nodded, his gaze darting indifferently to the paper clutched in her hand.

  A nervous hesitation quivered through her in the ensuing silence. There was something ominous in the crackling tension that made her doubly uneasy.

  "Now that I've found it, I'd better take it in to Mitzi." Lisa realized she was rattling on like a clucking chicken, but she couldn't help herself.

  Slade stood in front of the door, barring her way, but Lisa took a step forward anyway, expecting him to open the door for her. He didn't move.

  "You aren't leaving yet," he told her in no uncertain terms.