Cry Uncle by Judith Arnold Read Free Book Online

Kitty answered her own question.
    “ Thank you.” Pamela didn’t
agree that she looked gorgeous, but if she said so, Kitty might
think she was referring to the make-up job and not the face behind
it. “Actually,” she said, turning from the mirror and following
Kitty out of the cramped room, “I didn’t come here for you to
attempt to make me pretty. I came to get directions to Jonas’s
house.”
    “ That bum! He invited you
over and he didn’t tell you where he lives?”
    “ He did tell me,” Pamela
defended him. She pulled out her cocktail napkin and showed the
blurry diagram to Kitty. “He gave me this, but I can’t make heads
or tails of it.”
    Kitty took the napkin, squinted at it,
rotated it a hundred and eighty degrees, then shook her head.
Without having to be asked, Pamela supplied her with the Chamber of
Commerce map. “Ah, here we go. See, here’s Leon Street. You’re
going to head down to South Street and hang a left, and then you
just keep going till you get to Leon Street and make a right. Easy
as pie.”
    “ What does his house look
like? Have you been there?”
    Kitty’s laugh was just a tad too knowing.
“Sweetie, there isn’t a woman on this island who wouldn’t want to
call that house home.”
    “ What is it, a
palace?”
    “ No—but a prince lives
inside. Go get him, Pam. Be the first one to reel him
in.”
    Pamela might be the first, but she wouldn’t
be the last. This was a marriage with a built-in conclusion. And as
far as reeling Joe in, the only reason he was biting on her hook
was because of Elizabeth. Lizzie Borden. Lizard.
    Pamela shrugged back her shoulders and girded
herself to meet the maniac. “Okay,” she said, tucking an errant
strand of hair into her ribbon. “Here goes nothing.”
    “ Here comes the bride,”
Kitty sing-songed as she ushered Pamela to the door. “You’re going
to love being married, Pamela. Trust me—I’ve done it plenty of
times myself.”
    Done what? Pamela wondered as she waved and
departed from Kitty’s disorderly apartment. Marriage, or the part
of marriage she and Joe weren’t going to do? Last night he had
promised her that she would have her own bedroom. Without separate
beds, the deal was off.
    Pamela wasn’t a prude—and, tribal sacrifices
to the contrary, she wasn’t a virgin. But she wasn’t going to get
involved any more than she had to with Jonas Brenner. This was a
business arrangement. Safety for her, a custody judgment for him.
Sex would only complicate matters.
    Besides, he was much too grungy to appeal to
her in a romantic way. Torn apparel, unshaven cheeks, the mop of
hair, the absurdly blue eyes...the taut, lean body...the firm,
powerful grip of his hand around hers and that sly, seductive
dimple punctuating the corner of his mouth...
    Definitely not her type.
    She gave a final wave to Kitty, who was
watching her from the window with a go-get-’em grin plastered
across her face. Then she descended the steps to the parking lot
adjacent to the building. The asphalt felt sticky in the
late-morning heat; the warm, damp air wrapped around her like a
compress. Hers was the only car in the lot with out-of-state
plates. She’d have to change the registration.
    Right after the wedding, she
resolved—assuming she and Joe went through with the marriage. She
would get Florida plates and a license under the name Pamela
Brenner.
    Pamela Brenner. Would that ever sound
anything less than bizarre to her?
    It’s only temporary, she reminded herself as,
after instinctively checking the back seat to see if a hit man was
hiding there, she unlocked her car. A gust of scorching air slammed
into her when she opened the door, and she gingerly lowered herself
onto the steaming seat. The first time she’d gotten into her car
after it had baked for a while in the Key West sun, the steering
wheel had nearly given her second-degree burns.
    Pamela Brenner.
    What if she ultimately discovered that she
couldn’t stand Joe? What if they were