Free The Reckoning by Jana DeLeon Page B

another stab at hooking Holt. Because we all know how that turned out the first time. It’s one thing to embarrass yourself by throwing yourself at a man when you’re twenty, but it’s really pathetic when you’re in your thirties.”
    “But throwing yourself at a much younger man at—shall we be polite and say sixty—is perfectly acceptable.” Everyone in Vodoun knew that Lorraine had taken up with a much younger man after her much older husband’s death. Lorraine claimed he was a business partner, but no one in Vodoun was buying it.
    “Business is a totally different issue.” She narrowed her eyes at Alex. “But then, maybe this is business. I’m sure by now you know Holt’s trust fund was turned over to him when he turned thirty. I guess the fact that he ran off to Iraq to get away from you hasn’t deterred you from your goal.”
    Alex felt the blood rush up her face, causing her temples to throb. “You have the nerve to accuse me of chasing after Holt for his money? You married a man twice your age just to double your holdings.”
    Lorraine laughed. “My husband wasn’t useful for much of anything, really, but making money. Making money was the one thing he did without fail.”
    “That wasn’t the only thing he did without fail, was it, Lorraine?” Her husband’s reputation as a philanderer was also common knowledge.
    Lorraine glared, her face flushing red with anger. “I suppose it takes a whore to know one.”
    Alex slipped one hand from the shopping cart and started to step around when a hand clasped her shoulder and squeezed.
    “That’s quite enough, Lorraine,” Holt said. “I would expect a woman of your caliber to show more class than this.”
    “What do you know about class, Holt Chamberlain? You certainly didn’t learn anything from your father, and your mother’s always been a fool.”
    Lorraine whirled her shopping cart around and took off toward the checkout counter.
    “Why do I let that woman get to me?” Alex asked. “I’m so mad, my hands are shaking.”
    “Lorraine is the biggest bitch ever to walk Vodoun. She gets to everyone. I would apologize for her, but I stopped taking responsibility for things my family did years ago.”
    Alex sighed. “It’s not your place to apologize, although it’s likely the only one I’d ever get.”
    “Likely,” Holt agreed. “How’s Sarah?”
    “Not good. She was painting the garage when I left—with red nail polish. She insisted I buy more because she needs enough to finish the trim.”
    Holt glanced down at her shopping cart. “So you thought you’d burn down the garage once she was done? I’m not sure where the toothpaste fits into that.”
    Alex laughed. “I was thinking the same thing earlier. I’m supposed to be picking up groceries, but my concentration is off.”
    “Let me help.”
    Alex stared. “You?”
    “I make a mean spaghetti sauce. That should last you guys a couple of days.”
    Alex felt a flicker of warmth in her heart and tried to squelch it. “You don’t have to do that. We’ll manage.”
    “I want to. Look, I already feel like I’m not doing enough. This storm will break tonight, and with any luck we can go back to the island tomorrow, but I feel like I ought to be doing more. I’m not made for sitting still.”
    Alex knew she should say no. Every square inch of her body screamed at her that spending a domestic evening with Holt was just asking for trouble. But she found herself nodding, despite every completely reasonable argument to the contrary that she could summon.
    “I’ll meet you there in a half hour,” Holt said, and walked away.
    Alex watched after him, her mind whirling with a million thoughts. Where was Erika? What had happened to Bobby? Who was the man who’d sold Bobby’s guitar and what did Holt know about it?
    Spaghetti.
    Damn. Alex scanned the store, but didn’t see the top of Holt’s head in any of the aisles. What the heck did you buy to make spaghetti?
    * * *
    S ARAH