Lady Be Good by Nancy Martin Read Free Book Online Page B

buttons on his flannel shirt as he surveyed the contents of the fridge. “I can’t go to restaurants much, because I spend half my time signing autographs and getting my picture taken with fans. So it’s sandwiches at home most of the time. Don’t get me wrong, I watch what I eat, but at dinnertime—a sandwich hits the spot. You’re not a vegetarian, are you? I’ve got a really good capicola, some salami, maybe some low-fat turkey, every kind of cheese you can think of. Mustard, mayo—here, grab the pickles, will you? Lettuce, peppers. I love hot peppers.”
    Grace took a peek around him into the large refrigerator. She expected junk food and beer, but it looked as if her host was careful about his diet. The vegetable bin was jammed full, and bottles of juice lined the top shelf. She hefted a large jar of pickles from the shelf on the door.
    He said, “You want rye bread? Whole wheat? It’s there in the drawer.”
    A sandwich sounded marvelous, and soon a mountain of ingredients began to pile up on the kitchen counter. A bag of baby carrots, condiments.
    “What can I do to help?”
    “Plates are in the cupboard. No, not that one. There.” He pointed down the long row of cabinetry, then peeled off his flannel shirt and dropped it on the island. Underneath, he wore a warm cotton pullover. He pushed up the sleeves to get to work. “Yeah, there. And I’m crazy for Lorna Doones. See the package? There’s milk or beer or ginger ale. Or I could make some coffee.” He indicated a gleaming stainless steel coffeemaker with an Italian name printed across it. “What would you like to drink?”
    “Actually, a beer sounds perfect.” If Mama wasn’t watching, why not? Grace laid her borrowed suit jacket over the nearest chair and followed his lead by unbuttoning the sleeves of her blouse to roll them up.
    Luke closed the refrigerator with his hip and turned, the bottle of beer in his hand. He hesitated.
    Grace finished rolling up the right sleeve of her shell pink silk blouse and looked up. Luke was staring.
    He collected himself. “Uh, that’s pretty. I didn’t—I mean, you look different without your jacket. Nice.”
    “Thank you.”
    “I like your hair, too. Not hidden under that wild hat of yours. Maybe I shouldn’t have made that promise about your virtue,” he said with a grin.
    The Chanel suit was one of Nora’s vintage finds--tailored and trim, and probably a bit stiff looking. Nora had taken Grace seriously when she said she needed to be made over into Dear Miss Vanderbine. The pink blouse was her own, though, and comfortable. Maybe even a little sexy. Pale pink was her best color, for it softened the corn silk blondeness of her hair and enhanced her own blue eyes.
    Until now, maybe Luke hadn’t really noticed her appearance at all. As long as he wasn’t looking at her like a sex object, Grace struck a pose, lifting one foot to show off his sock. “The socks make the outfit, don’t they?”
    He smiled, but there was new curiosity in his eyes. “How come you’re not married? You’re what? Twenty-eight, twenty-nine?”
    “Thank you, but I’m thirty-one. I had a close call once.”
    “What happened?”
    Lightly, Grace said, “My mother disapproved.”
    “You always listen to your mother?”
    “She’s Dear Miss Vanderbine. Everybody listens to my mother. And, believe me, it’s hard to say this, but she has an annoying habit of being right most of the time.”
    Grace didn’t explain there had been a few years when mother and daughter rarely spoke. But recently she’d come to appreciate Mama’s many good qualities in spite of her sometimes tank-like approach to parenting.
    Grace finished rolling her other sleeve and took a moment to wash her hands at the tap. “Plus, I’ve been busy.”
    “Yeah, I know how that gets. Busy isn’t always good, though.”
    They stood together at the counter, building sandwiches. Luke made himself a tower of ingredients stacked high with lettuce and cheese,