but now I have proof.”
Louise stood up on unsteady violet platform heels.
Harry cocked his head sideways. “Are those little toy cars in those heels?”
“Oh yeah.” Any weird-assed thing Mitzi had decreed the company made. Needless to say, Princess Mitzi shoes never made it into Vogue magazine.
“I saw the way Mitzi looked at you.”
“She can barely remember my name.”
“She loves you and doesn’t even realize I’m alive,” Louise wailed and belched once more.
“Ah, I see,” Harry mused as he gently pushed Louise back from him.
Well, duh. “It was you who sawed off the heels and then stole the shoes to get her attention.” Louise loved Mitzi. Go figure.
“I wanted her to need me.”
“Love isn’t about that, Louise. It’s about faith, trust and honesty. If those gifts cannot be given freely then it’s not meant to be.” Ashbea felt Harry’s arm wind around her waist. And I have all those things. “Go to Mitzi and tell her the truth.”
“What if she hates me?”
“I don’t know or care. Just get the hell out of my room.” Ashbea had dealt with more than her share of Princess Mitzi staff problems. “Hell, Louise, you have the balls to sell shoes at funerals. If you can do that then you can do anything.” In some ways Ashbea would have liked to be a fly on the wall during that conversation.
“What if she says no?” Louise stumbled but managed to catch herself as practiced drunks did.
Ashbea ran a hand through her hair. “Maybe she will. Maybe she won’t. You have to take a chance.”
“But what if—”
“Push off, Louise. I want to be with the man I love.” Ashbea smiled up at Harry. It felt so good to say those words. “Do whatever you have to.”
Louise weaved passed them. “I left the stolen shoes in your closet.”
Ashbea sighed. “Of course you did.” She would deal with those tomorrow.
“By the way, you have horrible shoes.”
“Get out, Louise.” Ashbea pushed her out the door. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do letting a drunken woman wander the corridors. But then, even drunk, the Barracuda was a survivor.
Harry started laughing loud and long. “I never knew.” He caught her in his arms.
“What?”
“Real life until you came along.”
Chapter Seven
A week later she was back in Brisbane, alone. Princess Mitzi shoes was no more and Ashbea was unemployed. Realistically she knew she had to look for a job. There were bills to be paid and mortgages waited for no one. However since her return, Ashbea had sat and stared at the phone. It hadn’t rung once. The last time she saw Harry at the airport kept playing over and over in her head. Had she missed some clue? Had she misunderstood what he had said?
“I promise I will call you. I love you. Ashbea .”
“Harry, what if this is just a holiday fling. What if—” He words had been cut off by the sweet passion of his kisses.
“I love you and I promise I will come for you. Nothing will stop me.”
It was everything Ashbea had wanted to hear. “But—”
“Do you love me, bumblebee?”
“You know I do.”
“Then trust me.”
A week later that trust was on shaky ground. Ashbea could have called him but she had her pride. The horrible feeling that she was the rebound girlfriend kept her from dialing the hotel to talk to Harry. How pathetic would that be? Chasing after a man who had moved on. In her heart she wanted to believe all that Harry had said. In her mind she was calling herself a fool.
“It was just a moment in my life. I need to move on and get over him.” The words made perfect sense when said out loud. “So I will get a job. But first things first.” Ashbea needed to buy more chocolate. Any woman worth her salt knew chocolate was the antidote to all problems. In the last couple of days she had consumed what seemed like her weight in chocolate trying not to think about Harry.
Ashbea scooped up her car keys and purse. “Though I probably should walk. Hmm. But then if I do