Free Nightmare in Shining Armor by Tamar Myers Page B

Just listen.” Presumably he held the machine away from his ear because I heard the din of voices, some of which may have been Japanese. “You hear that?”
    â€œYes,” I said warily.
    â€œI’m at the train station. I’m on a flight that leaves from Narita Airport in two hours. It’s the last direct flight to the States tonight, so I have to make this connection. I would have booked an earlier one, but everything was full. Anyway, I just needed to hear how you are, and to tell you that I’ll be there as soon as humanly possible.”
    â€œThanks.” I didn’t know what else to say.
    â€œOh, and Abby, I’ve called Malcolm and told him to get in touch with you. Whatever you need, you just tell him.”
    With that Buford hung up. I stared at the phone in my hands until the poached guinea eggs on my plate were as cold as hail pellets. I was still staring when Rob rapped softly on the door frame.
    â€œYou have a visitor,” he said.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œA gentleman by the name of Malcolm Biddle. Abby, isn’t that Buford’s junior law partner?”
    â€œHis partner from hell,” I corrected him. “Mr. Satan himself. Where is he?”
    â€œIn the living room. Shall I show him in?”
    â€œNot on your life. I’ll meet him out there.”

10
    Y ou can’t get any lower, if you ask me, than to ditch your wife while she’s in the hospital having a hysterectomy. But that’s just what Malcolm did. He dumped Jenny in favor of a tart named Miranda. And to think this man had the nerve to expect an invitation to my party!
    For any doubters of karma out there, Miranda left Malcolm just three weeks later. The new object of the bimbo’s affection was a Carolina Panther. But apparently the burly ballplayer had chimes Miranda couldn’t ring, because shortly after their tryst began, he was caught soliciting male fans at the state welcome station in Pineville.
    At any rate, I detest Malcolm. I did my best to make that clear to him. I choked down Bob’s breakfast—which might have actually tasted pretty good under other circumstances—took a long hot bath, and dressed slowly. Only when I felt totally in control did I deign to hobble into Beelzebub’s presence.
    He looked up from one of the Rob-Bob’s antique magazines. An objective person might find Malcolm attractive. He has regular features and a solid build. His hair is his own, and while I can’t vouch for the provenance of his teeth, he seems to have a full contingent. Yet, while his complexion isn’t particularly oily, he seems to exude an air of slipperiness.
    â€œHey, you all right?” he asked and arranged his lips in a smirk.
    â€œHey, yourself. You know, Malcolm, I really don’t need you checking up on me.”
    He closed the magazine and tossed it onto the silk hassock. “Buford’s orders.”
    â€œYou’re his junior law partner, for crying out loud. You’re not his errand boy.”
    â€œThat’s easy for you to say. You’re divorced. He still signs my checks.” He laughed. “Come to think of it, I guess he still signs yours, too.”
    â€œNot hardly. If you pulled your weight in the firm you’d know better. Buford played his good old boy card and got out of paying alimony altogether.”
    Malcolm whistled. “Man, that had to hurt. But if you hook up with me, Abby, I won’t treat you that way.”
    â€œWhat?” I couldn’t believe my ears.
    â€œWhat do you say, Abby? Just one date.”
    â€œNot for all the bran in St. Petersburg,” I growled. “You’re supposed to be comforting me, not hitting on me.”
    â€œWhy can’t it be both?”
    â€œOut!” I pointed to the door.
    â€œCalm down,” he had the nerve to say.
    â€œDon’t tell me what to do!” I hobbled forward threateningly. “I said