Kitabı oku: «Burning Up», sayfa 4

And man, she’d adored it. She’d loved the continuity, the regular-kid home life with her relatives, the having a dresser of her own and half a closet in the room she and Janna shared so her clothes had a permanent spot. She’d really loved putting her suitcase in the attic instead of having to keep it handy because after a couple of months—or sometimes even weeks—it would be time to hit the road again.

It hadn’t been utopian, of course. Small schools had the most rigid cliques in the world and were notoriously slow at welcoming outsiders. Still, she’d figured that for once in her life she had time to carve out a spot for herself. And she’d deemed life good.

Then she’d gone and developed a huge crush on Drew Mayfield and everything had turned to shit.

“You gonna just push that around your plate, or are you actually going to eat the damn thing?”

Macy jerked her head up and found Gabe shooting her an irritated look from across the table. “Excuse me?”

“I asked if you’re going to eat your aunt’s salad.” His gray-eyed gaze traveled her long, lean body before raising to meet her own. “Or are you one of those Hollywood anorexics?”

“Jesus, Donovan,” Adam said at the same time that Grace emitted a shocked, “Gabe!”

“Well, look at her plate. She hasn’t eaten more than three bites.”

“What are you, the dinner police?” She looked him in the eye, the easy charm she’d worked to make her default mode on temporary hiatus. “Considering you’ve been at a lot of the meals I’ve scarfed down this week, for all you know I could simply have something on my mind.”

He merely raised a thick, beautifully curved eyebrow at her.

Causing her to expel an impatient breath. “Fine. Here.” Holding his gaze, she shoveled a huge bite into her mouth and chewed. Not as adequately as she should have before she swallowed, maybe, but what the hell. “Happy?” But her taste buds tingled with delight at the textures and flavors and the hint of heat in her aunt’s secret Thousand Island dressing recipe.

“Ooh. That’s good.” She forked up a more reasonably sized bite, but turned to Adam before carrying it to her lips. “Could you pass the rolls?” Then she popped it in her mouth and ate two additional bites before the basket made its way down the table.

Licking a dab of the dressing off the corner of her lips, she shot Gabe a grin as she broke open her roll. Then she turned to Adam to do what she did best when she wanted to keep someone at arm’s length without appearing unfriendly: flirted. Because Gabriel was right about one thing. Pushing her food around her plate while she brooded was a prodigious waste of time.

She wished Aunt Lenore hadn’t invited Adam for dinner, but at least the guy had been one of her few nice dates in high school. Unlike so many other boys in her class, he’d never asked her out expecting her to drop her drawers in the backseat of his car in exchange for a second-run movie at the Majestic and a burger basket at Smokey’s—then regaled his buddies with what a hot number she was after she declined to put out.

The legend of her so-called sexual prowess began with Andrew “Drew” Mayfield, the object of her fervent first crush. He’d been golden to her then-impressionable eyes, everything her young heart considered desirable. Reasonably tall, which meant a guy she wouldn’t be afraid to wear heels with, and fit, he was an athlete revered for his prowess on the football field, confident in the way only a young man with money, looks and outstanding physical ability can be. But she didn’t understand that until later. At the time she took the fact that he rarely laughed for intelligence, and it was the confidence that truly sucked her in, for it had made him stand apart from the usual high school boys.

God, she’d been excited when he’d asked her out. She’d carried a torch for the football star since her first week as a sophomore at Sugarville High, and to have him suddenly focus his attention on her midway through her junior year had thrilled her no end.

The thrill had waned considerably after their date, when he’d driven her to Buzzard Canyon, one of the more popular partying and make-out areas along the wooded draw climbing up from Wenatchee. Not that she’d objected to necking with a guy she’d wanted to kiss for what seemed like forever. But he had quickly pushed for far more than she was willing to give. And for the first time since coming to Sugarville, she’d refused to rein in her time-honored defense against being an outsider—her zero tolerance for taking crap. Instead, she’d fought her way upright and put a halt to the make-out session in no uncertain terms. He’d taken it like a gent, though, and driven her home, so she’d assumed that was the end of it.

Until the following Monday, when sniggers had followed her down the hallways of Sugarville High and she’d discovered her once-idol had told all his friends she was a pushover in the backseat of his car.

And the rush to date her began.

She’d known better than to think anyone would believe her over a guy who was the high school equivalent of royalty. So, except with Janna, she hadn’t even tried to set the record straight. What was the point? Once an outsider, always an outsider.

But enough with the trip down memory lane. Impatient with herself, she joined in the conversations swirling around her. It had been a long day, however, and given a choice when dinner ended she would have retired to her room in a heartbeat. But Adam was there. Not feeling like dealing with him, however, she quickly offered to help with the dishes. Hey, a girl could always hope Inconvenient Guy would take off if she just stayed busy long enough.

Her aunt dashed that dream by waving her off and her nebulous alternate plan to invite her cousin to hang out with them vanished when Janna said she ached after her afternoon out. Macy didn’t have any real hope Adam would disappear while she helped settle her cousin in their room, and sure enough, he was still lounging against the library/game room doorjamb when she came out a short while later. Sighing, she decided only the direct approach would do and walked up to him.

In the rec room behind him she saw Gabe bending over Grace as he showed her how to line up a shot on the pool table and got a funny pang in her chest.

Irritated, she shoved it aside and, pulling her gaze away from the couple, looked at Adam. “What do you say we go out on the porch?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

On the covered porch that wrapped around two sides of the house, he moved in on her, bending his head with the clear intention of stealing a kiss.

She stepped back. “Not gonna happen, pal.”

He straightened up. “I suppose I didn’t really expect it would. Still, a guy’s gotta try.” He studied her in the dappled light filtering through the wisteria leaves. “You’ve changed a lot since high school.”

“I certainly hope so. It’s been ten years.”

“I think it goes deeper than that, though. And has to do with more than your MTV success. You seem…happier.”

She blinked at his insight, surprised in no small part because she hadn’t expected any from a guy who’d go to his son’s game and flirt with another woman in front of the kid’s mom—a situation she would’ve had no part of, had she realized up front that’s what was going on. But she shrugged. “That happens when you remove yourself from a place where people either hate your guts or treat you like a slut.”

After her reputation went down the loo with a big, resounding whoosh, she’d decided if you can’t beat ’em, give ’em what they expect. She’d discovered the protective covering of a really good costume and in-your-face flirting. She’d also put herself out there on the dating front for a while, hoping that more guys would tell the truth about their so-called experiences with her than the ones who’d lied through their teeth.

That latter thing hadn’t panned out so great. But it’d taught her a lesson that she retained to this day: keep your relationships brief and fun, then move along before they can bite you in the butt.

She shot Adam a genuine smile. “You didn’t.” He raised an inquiring brow and she added, “On our one and only date, you were one of the few who didn’t treat me like a slut.”

“Yeah, well, I had a fairly strict upbringing.” He shot her a wry smile. “I sort of hoped you’d turn out to be one, though.”

The belly laugh exploding out of her felt good, and she was still laughing when Grace and Gabe came out of the house. Wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, she turned to the teacher. “Are you leaving?”

The other woman tended toward quiet and had a refined, good-girl air about her. But she possessed a sweet smile and a good sense of humor and had been ingenuously open about getting a kick out of hanging with her and Janna.

“Yes.” Grace came over and took Macy’s hands in her own. “Thank you so much for including me in your party this afternoon. I had a blast.”

“It was fun, wasn’t it? I really enjoyed getting to know you a little. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

Gabe jingled his keys in his pocket and she gave the teacher a nudge. “It looks like your date is getting impatient. He must have a hot necking session planned down at Buzzard Canyon.” Mentioning the spot, however, dimmed her humor considerably.

It resurrected when Grace turned pink and stuttered, “Oh, no, I don’t think—” while Gabe shot her a look.

“You’ll have to cut Ms. O’James some slack, Grace,” he said coolly. “She has sex on the brain. Must be the L.A. influence.”

“Only with you, sugar,” she said, and Grace and Adam laughed, obviously believing it was just another example of her flirty ways. But she admitted to herself that there was more than a grain of truth to the matter. It had been a fairly long dry spell since she’d thought of having sex with anyone. But every time she clapped eyes on the big fire chief it seemed to be the first thing that popped to mind.

Well, she’d just have to do something about that. One, because she didn’t poach on other women’s turf, and two, the guy was far from a lighthearted player, which was her usual type.

And face it. Being back in Sugarville is challenge enough.

Wasn’t that the damn truth. A challenge, squared. The last thing she needed was some sparks in the dark sexual chemistry with a man she suspected just might burn her alive.

When it came to Gabriel Donovan she intended to keep her distance…and then some.

CHAPTER SIX

GABE HEARD WAR WHOOPS and the sound of boys laughing as he let himself out the kitchen door and headed for his car. Tracking the noise, he spotted Tyler and Charlie taking turns stalking each other through the fruit orchard beyond the small parking area. They dodged in and out of the trees and behind the shed at the end of Bud’s enclosed garden, popping out from behind cover long enough to shoot streams of water at each other from long-barreled, pump-action soaker guns. It was over ninety today, so he thought their activity had a helluva lot more appeal than climbing into a car that had been cooking in the sun since he’d stopped home at noon. Opening the vehicle, he watched the boys over its roof as he gave the heat trapped inside a minute to escape.

But in the abrupt that’s-so-last-minute-this-is-now way of kids, Tyler suddenly lowered his gun and, dragging it behind him as if it equaled his body weight, trudged in Gabe’s direction.

It soon became clear, however, that the boy hadn’t noticed him. “Mom,” he said in an aggravated voice before he and Charlie even reached the parking area. “We’ve been waiting forever! When are we gonna go to the pool?”

Gabe hadn’t noticed the women until then, but now he homed right in on Janna sitting in a lawn chair under the oak tree with Macy on the ground at her feet. The dappled shade cast by the broad leaves was fairly deep, so they weren’t exactly in high-def. But they were noticeable enough that he was surprised he’d missed them in the first place.

Macy turned her head to look at Tyler. “We’ll leave as soon as your mom’s toenails dry.”

“I don’t know why you hadda go paint ’em in the first place,” the kid groused.

“Because she has her first physical therapy session in twenty minutes and when a girl’s facing something difficult it gives her a lift to look her best.” She flapped a go-away hand at him. “Besides, by the time you two’ve dried off, so will the polish.”

“Whatta we have to dry off for?” Ty demanded indignantly. “We’re just gonna get wet again at the pool.”

“That’s true,” Janna said, extending her good foot to admire her paint job as Macy gathered nail stuff together and threw it in a little case. “But you’re not climbing into my car like that.”

“We wanna go in Aunt Macy’s car!”

“Not going to happen, Ty,” Macy said, climbing to her feet and brushing off her butt. “My car’s a two seater and there are four of us.”

“That sucks,” he muttered.

“Well, I suppose your mom and I could always take my car and you and Charlie could stay home with Grandma.”

Janna nodded. “That would work.”

“Nuh-uh!”

Macy observed him with a stillness Gabe had never seen from her, since she was usually electricity in motion. “Then quit your whining,” she commanded in a tone that didn’t resemble her usual easy-breezy way of speaking. “Contrary to what you seem to believe today, it’s not all about you. Now, go dry off and don’t forget to ask Grandma for a couple of dry towels to take to the pool.”

“Aw, man!” But he headed for the back door of the boardinghouse, passing Gabe without acknowledging him.

As the screen door slapped shut behind the boys, Gabe watched Macy bend to lift her cousin out of the chair.

He went to help. “Kind of rough on the kid, weren’t you?” he said as he hipped her aside and reached to gently raise Janna onto her feet. Okay, so he actually thought she’d handled Ty dead right. Yet somehow words he never intended to say seemed to come out of his mouth whenever he was around her. He narrowed his eyes at her for once again putting him in that position. “I had drill instructors in the army weren’t as tough as you.”

“Gee, why aren’t I surprised you were a big, bad soldier?” she shot back. “The only shocker here is that you weren’t the D.I. I can see you getting nose-to-nose with some poor, hapless recruit to yell in his face until his ego is paste beneath your boot.”

I’ll show you nose-to-nose. He took a hot step forward, then, catching himself, executed a bigger one in reverse.

Jesus. The woman turned him into someone he didn’t recognize faster than you could clock a cheetah going from zero to seventy. But this was it. He was through falling into that trap. He was getting his Zen back and from now on keeping his mouth shut.

He shot a glance at his watch. What the hell was he doing hanging around here, anyhow, when he’d scheduled a meeting with his volunteer firemen in fifteen minutes?

But his good intentions went up in flames when they all stepped out into the blazing sunshine and he took his first real good look at her outfit. “What the hell are you supposed to be today?” he demanded. “A belly dancer?” Okay, it wasn’t quite that overt. But holy shit.

“I’m pretty sure it was her Wonder Woman Underoos back in the fourth grade that set her on the path to all things dress-up,” Janna said with a fond smile at her cousin’s animal-print bikini top and the crocheted bronze scarf tied low on her hips, its long, silky fringe shimmying with every breath she took.

“Hey,” Macy said. “Do not mock my Wonder Woman underwear. I’ll have you know I have fond memories of the white stars on those little blue pants and that great winged W on my chest.” Her lips curled upward. “I totally rocked those undies.”

Then she turned and pinned him in place with a level gaze. “As for what I’m wearing today, Donovan, it’s called a bathing suit and cover-up. Women in the new millennium wear them when they go to the pool. Deal with it.”

“Or an almost-cover-up, anyway,” he murmured, taking in the long, smooth stretch of skin between Macy’s forehead and toes, broken only by the strings and two tiny triangles of the giraffe-skin fabric that almost protected the modesty of her high, sweet breasts and that peek-a-boo scarf that bared her stomach and one boyish hip before showcasing glimpses of those yard-long legs. Crap. Was he drooling?

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Well, hey, you’re a big girl and you’ll wear what you’re gonna wear.” He turned to Janna. “Good luck with your first PT session.”

He walked away to the sound of Macy muttering, “For God’s sake. Was there anything you didn’t eavesdrop on?”

There wasn’t enough time in the drive between the boardinghouse and town for the AC to catch up with the heat in his car, and his khaki shirt was stuck to his spine by the time he pulled up in front of the one-engine firehouse.

His six volunteers were already there, and he strode into the mini kitchen and joined them at the table where they were drinking coffee. “Sorry I’m late. I stopped off at the boardinghouse after my meeting with the mayor and got hung up.”

Johnson, a strapping blond farmer, shrugged as he reached for the sugar container to add a heaping teaspoon to his cup. “I’m impressed you made it at all. I’d be hard-pressed to drag myself away if I had the opportunity to hang out with Macy O’James. Did anyone else see her in Burn, Baby, Burn?”

“Oh, yeah,” Bundy agreed fervently, while Solberg said, “That one was hot, no question. But she was off the hinges in Ain’t No Talkin’. Who can forget her in that little satin nightielike thing?”

It was touch-and-go for a second, but Gabe managed not to take his exasperation out on his men. But Jesus, wouldn’t it be nice if he could go just one day, or hell, even a couple of hours, without having to listen to everything Macy? This was a small town, however, and apparently once word that O’James was featured in the provocative videos had gotten around, the entire town had started tuning in to watch.

Ignoring the comments, he nodded his thanks to Kirschner, who handed him a mug of coffee. Then he looked around the table at his men.

“I asked you to meet me here,” he said, “because the upshot of my meeting with the mayor this morning was more budget cuts in the works. It won’t affect your pay per fire, but there’s no money for the non-emergency support person I’d hoped to hire. So I’d like to run something past you that I brought up with Mayor Smith.”

“You actually got something past Mayor Tight-wad?” one of his men demanded.

“Yeah, since it won’t cost him much and has the potential for a big return. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Fire Corps, but it’s a volunteer program that provides support personnel, saving fire departments across the nation time and money. We’re too small to have a branch in our area, but I’d like try recruiting for one. So if you all are willing to take a dunking for the cause, I did get Smith to unclench his wallet long enough to get us a booth and a dunk tank at the county fair in August. People seem to love those things, and with the chance to knock us into a tank of water comes an opportunity for us to raise some money, hand out literature and talk up the benefits of volunteering for the fire department.”

“I’ll do it,” Johnson said, as others at the table nodded their agreement. “What the hell, it’s a chance to meet chicks—something I don’t get off the farm often enough to do much of. If you really want a turnout, though, you should talk Macy into being part of it.”

His first inclination was to snarl, “Enough about O’James, already!” But applying cold-blooded logic to the suggestion, he had to agree the guy had a point. The way she’d laughed that night on the porch with Westler popped to mind, as it had way too often. And picturing a wet Macy, laughing like that even once? Hell, they’d have men lined up the length of the fairgrounds, ready and willing to lay down their hard-earned cash for the opportunity to make her do it again.

So he nodded. “Good thinking,” he agreed, congratulating himself that it didn’t even sound grudging. “I’ll run it past her.”

“YOU MIND THE LIFEGUARDS now!” Janna called after Tyler and Charlie as they tumbled from the car and raced for the gate to the town pool.

Macy raised an eyebrow at her cousin, causing the other woman to make a face in return. “I know, I know.” Janna said. “Wasting my breath.”

“And so unnecessarily, too. Unless things have changed dramatically since my time, those lifeguards keep an eagle eye on the kids and expel anyone foolish enough to give them lip.” Reaching across the console, she gave Janna’s thigh a comforting pat. “That’s one thing you don’t have to worry about. I’ll head back to supervise as soon as I get you situated with the therapist and make a quick stop at the Shop and Save to pick up some TP for Auntie.” She glanced down at her pool wear, then shot Janna a sly smile. “Think the patrons there will be as scandalized as the fire chief was over my display of skin?”

“You know this town. Some will, some won’t. But Macy, about Gabe—”

She grimaced. “I know, be nice, he’s a good man, a righteous, upstanding member of the community, yadda, yadda, yadda.”

“I’m sure he’s all those things.” Janna’s lips tilted in a wry smile. “But what I was going to say was, what’s with all the verbal foreplay between you and him whenever you’re together?”

“What?” She pulled her gaze from the road to stare at her cousin in shock. “No verbal foreplay! We don’t do that.” Then, directing her attention back to the traffic, she admitted, “Well, at least he doesn’t. He seems pretty into Grace. And if that shouldn’t halt me in my tracks, I don’t know what will, since I’ve never poached another woman’s guy in my life. But man.” She shook her head. “There’s just something about him. He opens his mouth or, okay, just stands there giving me that cool, judgmental look and it’s like he’s catnip and I’m the cat, he’s Mad Dog and I’m the wino, he’s crack and I’m the—”

“I get it, Mace.”

“Well, I wish I did. I’m not sure I even like him. But I sense all kinds of heat beneath that outer chill, and boy, am I attracted to him. I’ve never felt anything quite like it.”

“I’m thinking he’s pretty attracted to you, too.”

“But don’t you see? If he is, that makes him a pig. And me a guy-rustling pigette. Because there is Grace.”

“Who is a sweetheart,” Janna said.

“Yeah, she is,” she agreed trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “I really like her.”

“So do I. But I gotta say, Macy, when it comes to sparks between her and Gabe? I see zip. Nada. None.”

Not particularly liking herself for the satisfaction that hearing that gave her, she said as she wheeled the car into the clinic’s parking lot, “Maybe their fascination with each other is something they prefer to keep private. They’re both pretty contained.”

“I suppose.” But staring at the blue-and-white County Seat Sports and Spine sign, Janna didn’t sound convinced.

Or even as if she were actually still paying attention to the conversation. Macy touched her arm. “You nervous?”

“Big-time. Which no doubt makes me a big fat baby.”

“No, it doesn’t. You’ve been through a lot, and this is something new added to the mix. But first times in everything are always the hardest. I think it’s that going-into-the-unknown thing. I bet your progress will grow in leaps and bounds with the therapy, though.”

“If it doesn’t kill me. I’m tired of hurting and I bet this is gonna be painful.”

“There is that possibility.”

Janna’s head snapped around and she laughed. “That’s one of the things I love about you, Macy. You never sugarcoat stuff or try to placate me with false promises.”

She shrugged and climbed from the car, circling the hood to help Janna out. “Not much point in promising you something I have zero experience with. But I’m hoping for the best for you, Janny.”

She was thinking about her cousin ten minutes later when she strode into the Shop and Save and headed for the paper-goods aisle, her flip-flops slapping against the linoleum floor. Between her rat-bastard ex and the accident, Janna’d had an extremely rough six months, and Macy hoped like crazy the therapy would at least start her on the road to regaining her health.

It likely helped that Sean and his barely legal new squeeze had recently moved to Spokane. No longer having to risk running into him whenever Janna went out had to make things a little easier. She still had to deal with his parents, but the elder Purcells, who wanted a relationship with their only grandson and were embarrassed by their son’s actions, treated her with scrupulous politeness.

Macy was hunkered down in front of the multiroll packages on the bottom shelf when a voice she could have gone the rest of her life without hearing drawled from behind her, “Toilet paper, Macy? How appropriate. You always did turn everything to shit.”

Swallowing a sigh, she selected a twelve-pack, rose to her feet and tossed it in the basket. Stooping, she grabbed another and added it, as well. Then she turned to face her old high school nemesis.

From their first encounter Liz Picket had disliked her, but in the beginning it hadn’t been personal. As the school beauty, a cheerleader dating Macy’s crush, football star Andrew Mayfield, and the only child of one of the wealthiest men in town, Liz had been the undisputed female leader of the most popular group in school. Her sense of entitlement made her an equal-opportunity bitch to anyone she felt was her social inferior, which since Sugarville was largely a farming community, had pretty much meant all but a select few. What surprised Macy was how everyone had kept their heads down and let her get away with it.

Being the new kid in school too many times to count had taught her that allowing people to walk all over you simply invited them to trample you some more. So when Liz pushed her, she’d pushed back. But not nearly as hard as she would have if she hadn’t been trying so hard to fit in in Sugarville.

Apparently no one had ever returned any of the crap the princess of Sugarville dished out, however, so when Macy did Liz went ballistic and what had been generic trash talk became personal. Then Andrew asked Macy out, after telling her he’d broken up with Liz. That turned out to be as true as the tales he wove of Macy’s easiness, but had Liz blamed him?

Hell, no. She’d declared all-out war on her.

So here they were ten years later, apparently about to play out the same ol’, same ol’.

Or not. Maybe, just this once, she’d take the high road and refuse to engage.

“Liz Picket. Long time, no see.”

“Not long enough.” Liz tilted her chin and shot Macy a supercilious smile. “And it’s Picket-Smith now. I’m married to the mayor, you know.”

Her good intentions dissolved. “Of course you are. You always were one for riding on a man’s coattails instead of carving out a place for yourself on your own merits.” She raised an eyebrow. “But then, I forget myself. You don’t have any of those.”

Liz flipped her expensively cut, exquisitely colored long-layered bob away from her face. “Unlike you, you mean, who makes her living in sex videos?”

She couldn’t help it, she cracked up. And every time she attempted to regain her composure the ridiculousness of Liz’s statement made her howl all over again. When she finally got herself together, she said, “Oh, God, thanks for the laugh.” Swallowing a couple of snickers that still wanted to escape, she dabbed beneath her eyes with the sides of her fingers and shot Liz a grin that was likely a little demented around the edges. “You must be the only twenty-eight-year-old in captivity who equates rock videos with porn. You really are provincial, aren’t you?”

The other woman’s perfectly made-up face mottled with fury, and Macy realized she had inadvertently issued the ultimate insult. Because she remembered now the way Liz had always prided herself on being so much more worldly than the rest of the girls in their class. Back then it had even been true. The rest of them had gone to Long Beach or Ocean Shores for family vacations or spring break. Liz had gone to Paris.

The other woman leaned into Macy’s space and said in a low, vicious tone, “I wonder if your aunt and uncle know you blew the entire football team?”

Fury drove a spike up Macy’s spine, but applying the discipline she’d taught herself years ago, she stepped back from both it and Liz and gave the other woman a cool assessment. “I doubt it, considering that was always more your style than mine,” she said mildly. In truth, it had been neither of their styles. But wherever girls gathered in a small-town high school—in locker rooms and restrooms—Liz could be found bragging of every sexual act she’d ever taken part in with her boyfriend of the moment.

“Tell you what, though,” she said. “Why don’t you trot over to the boardinghouse and ask them? I’d really enjoy hitting you with a slander suit. Wouldn’t His Honor the Mayor love the publicity from that? Especially when it comes out—as these things have a tendency to do—that, while you were busy ridiculing me as the school whore, you were the one committing sexual acts I never even dreamed of. What was it you used to tell all the other girls? ‘I may be a slut…but at least I’m a rich one?’ That oughtta play well in court.”

Then she moved closer and her voice lost its easygoing equanimity. “Get this through your head, Elizabeth. I’m no longer a kid without resources. And I’m only going to say this once. If I hear so much as a hint of that rumor making the rounds, I will have your ass in court so fast you’ll make Linda Blair’s little pre-exorcism head whirl look like an ordinary event. It doesn’t matter if the whispers originate with someone else. I have lawyers who live for tracking false rumors back to their source.”