you later. I’ve got things to do.’’ She stalked off.
‘‘There goes Miss Charm School of 1966,’’ Sophie said, low enough so that only I could hear.
I suppressed a laugh. ‘‘You’re incorrigible.’’
‘‘Just one of the many reasons I’m your best friend,’’ she said, tossing her head. ‘‘Come on. We’ve got more exploring to do. I want to find out where the gym is, and if they have an indoor pool.’’
We could have gone back to our suite and consulted the hotel guide there, but Sophie headed for the reception desk instead. Trailing in her wake, I hoped we would be lucky enough to find someone besides Veronica Hinkelmeier staffing the desk.
No such luck. Not only was Veronica at the desk, glaring at a woman and a young man standing in front of it, but Paula was there, too.
‘‘Lorraine, what are you doing here?’’ we heard Paula ask. She stood a few feet away from the woman and the young man, her back rigid.
Sophie and I glanced at each other. What now?
The woman Paula had addressed, an attractive redhead in her late forties, turned slowly and faced Paula. ‘‘Oh, goody, just what I needed to make this joyful day complete. One stupid bitch behind the desk, and the queen of them all here to greet me.’’
Chapter 7
‘‘Mom!’’ The young man, with hair a paler version of his mother’s fiery mane, put a hand on her arm. ‘‘Not now.’’
‘‘Relax, Will,’’ she said. Her gaze softened when she looked at her son. When she focused on Paula again, however, her eyes hardened.
‘‘Just stay out of my way, Paula, and you won’t get hurt,’’ she said. Then, turning her back on Paula, she faced Veronica again. ‘‘I have a reservation, and you’d better stop stalling and let us have our rooms. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to discuss your customer relations with your boss. I don’t think he would be happy to know just how hospitable you are to other women’s husbands.’’
Obviously furious, Veronica stood and stared across the counter at the woman who now smiled serenely back at her. Taking a deep breath, Veronica began fiddling with her computer.
Paula, with an obvious lack of common sense, moved closer to the redhead. ‘‘Now, listen, Lorraine. Everything’s going to be fine. Really, it will be. I’ve asked Avery for a divorce, and you can have him back.’’
So Lorraine was the former Mrs. Trowbridge, the one whom Avery had divorced in order to marry Paula. I glanced at Sophie—she was intent on the scene before us. We really should have left at that point, but we were both far too curious to do so.
Lorraine Trowbridge motioned for her son to sign the paper Veronica had thrust across the counter. With a fierce frown, he did so. A sardonic smile on her lovely face, Lorraine moved closer to Paula.
‘‘Why on earth would I want Avery back now? I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole after he’s been with you.’’
‘‘I don’t want him either,’’ Paula said, her shoulders tensing. ‘‘He’s a bastard, and I just want to be free of him.’’
‘‘My, my,’’ Lorraine said. ‘‘And after you worked so hard to get him. All that time on your back, and now you don’t want him anymore.’’ She turned toward the counter. ‘‘Did you hear that, Veronica? Paula doesn’t want him anymore, so now’s your chance. You might as well put all the time you spent on your back to good use. Avery is obviously up for grabs.’’
‘‘Mom, come on,’’ Will Trowbridge said. He was patently embarrassed by what had transpired. He picked up their luggage, two large bags, and started moving in the direction of the elevator. ‘‘Come on, Mother, now, please.’’
Yielding to her son, Lorraine followed him and the luggage, but not before casting one last nasty, triumphant smile at Paula and Veronica.
Veronica stalked into the office behind the desk and slammed the door. Paula turned in our direction, and she wilted even further right
‘‘There goes Miss Charm School of 1966,’’ Sophie said, low enough so that only I could hear.
I suppressed a laugh. ‘‘You’re incorrigible.’’
‘‘Just one of the many reasons I’m your best friend,’’ she said, tossing her head. ‘‘Come on. We’ve got more exploring to do. I want to find out where the gym is, and if they have an indoor pool.’’
We could have gone back to our suite and consulted the hotel guide there, but Sophie headed for the reception desk instead. Trailing in her wake, I hoped we would be lucky enough to find someone besides Veronica Hinkelmeier staffing the desk.
No such luck. Not only was Veronica at the desk, glaring at a woman and a young man standing in front of it, but Paula was there, too.
‘‘Lorraine, what are you doing here?’’ we heard Paula ask. She stood a few feet away from the woman and the young man, her back rigid.
Sophie and I glanced at each other. What now?
The woman Paula had addressed, an attractive redhead in her late forties, turned slowly and faced Paula. ‘‘Oh, goody, just what I needed to make this joyful day complete. One stupid bitch behind the desk, and the queen of them all here to greet me.’’
Chapter 7
‘‘Mom!’’ The young man, with hair a paler version of his mother’s fiery mane, put a hand on her arm. ‘‘Not now.’’
‘‘Relax, Will,’’ she said. Her gaze softened when she looked at her son. When she focused on Paula again, however, her eyes hardened.
‘‘Just stay out of my way, Paula, and you won’t get hurt,’’ she said. Then, turning her back on Paula, she faced Veronica again. ‘‘I have a reservation, and you’d better stop stalling and let us have our rooms. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to discuss your customer relations with your boss. I don’t think he would be happy to know just how hospitable you are to other women’s husbands.’’
Obviously furious, Veronica stood and stared across the counter at the woman who now smiled serenely back at her. Taking a deep breath, Veronica began fiddling with her computer.
Paula, with an obvious lack of common sense, moved closer to the redhead. ‘‘Now, listen, Lorraine. Everything’s going to be fine. Really, it will be. I’ve asked Avery for a divorce, and you can have him back.’’
So Lorraine was the former Mrs. Trowbridge, the one whom Avery had divorced in order to marry Paula. I glanced at Sophie—she was intent on the scene before us. We really should have left at that point, but we were both far too curious to do so.
Lorraine Trowbridge motioned for her son to sign the paper Veronica had thrust across the counter. With a fierce frown, he did so. A sardonic smile on her lovely face, Lorraine moved closer to Paula.
‘‘Why on earth would I want Avery back now? I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole after he’s been with you.’’
‘‘I don’t want him either,’’ Paula said, her shoulders tensing. ‘‘He’s a bastard, and I just want to be free of him.’’
‘‘My, my,’’ Lorraine said. ‘‘And after you worked so hard to get him. All that time on your back, and now you don’t want him anymore.’’ She turned toward the counter. ‘‘Did you hear that, Veronica? Paula doesn’t want him anymore, so now’s your chance. You might as well put all the time you spent on your back to good use. Avery is obviously up for grabs.’’
‘‘Mom, come on,’’ Will Trowbridge said. He was patently embarrassed by what had transpired. He picked up their luggage, two large bags, and started moving in the direction of the elevator. ‘‘Come on, Mother, now, please.’’
Yielding to her son, Lorraine followed him and the luggage, but not before casting one last nasty, triumphant smile at Paula and Veronica.
Veronica stalked into the office behind the desk and slammed the door. Paula turned in our direction, and she wilted even further right
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