Pillow Talk by Hailey North

busson rug. Aunt Mathilde had gathered her daughter Amelia Anne to her side and Kinky had joined Teensy at the bar. Iso lde, Amelia Anne's sixteen-year- old daughter, hadn't bothered rising from the chair where she sat curled up, her ears covered by her Walkman, her nose buried in a book.
    Meg half-turned, glancing towards Parker. In that swift instant, he saw a vulnerability she hadn't so far displayed. No female Daniel in a den of wild animals at this moment. Again, he felt himself softening his stance towards her. Perhaps she had married his brother for love, impetuously, but possibly out of pure motives.
    If that were the case, Parker, he said to himself, where were her tears back there in the hotel room when you broke the news to her? She'd been shocked, but he'd wager a month's profit that she'd been thinking of her own welfare.
    She'd taken a step toward him. Some indication of his thoughts must have shown on his face because she halted and gazed at him with a questioning look. Parker, who prided himself on his poker face, forced a smile into place and decided to play along with her game. Shoving himself from his post at the fireplace, he strolled towards her.
    Instead of relief, he saw a hint of nervousness. Good. Let her get a little bit ruffled.
    He'd just reached her side when the booming voice of Dr. Prejean split the room.
    "Ah, there you are!"
    All heads turned toward the doorway. The doctor, one of Parker's least favorite people, stood there, rubbing his hands together. His wisp of a goatee stood almost straight out and his toupee had settled slightly askew on his head. Round rimless glasses winked on his bulging eyes and his red lips formed a pout. His pipe protruded from his coat pocket, so Parker assumed he'd stepped out for a smoke.
    "Teensy, why aren't you sitting down, you naughty patient?" The doctor advanced into the room.
    As Teensy hadn't left her station near the bar at the far end of the room, the doctor first encountered Meg and Parker, who'd just reached her side.
    The doctor paused, teetering on the balls of his undersized feet. Not only had this man made Parker's life hell as he'd insisted on treating him for illnesses Parker knew quite well he didn't suffer from, but Parker couldn't stand any man with the pretensions Dr. Prejean exhibited. The man had attached himself to Teensy years ago and scarcely saw any other patients, other than the acquaintances Teensy foisted on him. He lived high on the hog off the money the sadly scattered, utterly spoiled, and unstable Teensy funnelled to him.
    He held forth both hands, collecting Meg's in his own hammy paws. "You must be Jules's widow." He made a tch-tch sound that set Parker's nerves even further on edge.
    "I prefer to think of myself as his bride," Meg answered, in a spirited tone. Parker lifted his brows. This could prove interesting.
    Evidently the Vegas vamp was a quick study and didn't care for the good doctor, either.
    "Oh, of course," he said, patting her hand. "What a sad loss. Such a young man, in the prime of his life. Taken from us in a tragedy that will live long in the annals of this city's crime-ridden social history."
    Meg pulled her hand from the doctor's. "I thought he died trying to score cocaine."
    All conversation in the room died. Not a sound could be heard as everyone, but everyone, turned to stare at Meg.
    Parker suppressed the smile that wanted desperately to rend his lips. No one, but no one in this room would have acknowledged publicly that Jules had gotten himself into the trouble that resulted in his death. They spoke in platitudes and generalities, murmuring words of sympathy to Teensy and the other family members. For an outsider to call a strike a strike and not dress it up in pretty language shocked them.
    They'd have her for breakfast, of course, but Parker had to admit he did find it refreshing. If someone, somewhere along the way in Jules's life, had been willing to speak straight to him, maybe he wouldn't have