Low Country Liar by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online Page B

capital gains and stock dividends. It's a relief to turn it all over to Slade, I'm afraid I've rather taken advantage of his good nature, though."
    "It must be wonderful to have someone you can trust so implicitly." Lisa thought the real point was who was taking advantage of whom? "It must be an awesome responsibility for you…Slade—" she hesitated a bare second over his Christian name "—to have virtually sole control of someone else's money."
    "Yes, it is," he agreed.
    Lisa saw his mouth tighten and knew her gibes had to be getting close to their mark. She really should keep quiet, but she was deriving such fiendish delight out of antagonizing him.
    Her subconscious seemed to have come up with a daring battle plan. While Lisa Talmadge attacked him boldly head on, Ann Eldridge could sneak up on him from behind.
    "Lisa thinks I'm too trusting," Mitzi sighed in amusement. "But I'd rather be that way than the reverse. And of course, she doesn't know you as I do."
    The invisible darts Lisa had been tossing hadn't escaped her aunt's attention. Neither did she seem upset by them. Yet, in the acknowledgment, there was a hint for a truce, however temporary.
    "You're too trusting," Lisa reaffirmed, but gently and with affection. "It would be too easy for someone you like to take advantage of you."
    Her subtle accusation against Slade Blackwell had been made, but not in a way that he could take open offense. He didn't like it—Lisa could tell by the hardening of his dark features.
    "May I fix you another drink, Mitzi?" Slade rose from his chair, carrying his emptied glass.
    "I don't believe so." Mitzi swirled her drink, ice cubes clinking against the side with the agitation of the liquid. "I still have some left, but help yourself by all means."
    "I think I will," he said grimly, walking to the trolley cart. "In one way or another, it's been a long, tiring day."
    You can say that again, Lisa thought, remembering the chaos in the office that afternoon.
    The telephone had hardly ever stopped ringing, and clients kept stopping in expecting to talk to Slade whether they had appointments or not. It had taken forever to finish typing those letters, or so it seemed. The legal briefs weren't even half-completed.
    "I never did have a chance to ask you how your day was, Lisa," Mitzi turned to her, curious and interested. "You left a message with Mildred that you were going to visit some friends. Did they take you sightseeing?"
    "We were going to go after lunch," Lisa lied again, "but we got to talking. One thing led to another and before I knew it the afternoon was gone."
    "I wasn't aware that you had friends living here in Charleston," Slade commented.
    "College chums," Mitzi inserted.
    "Yes, Susan, Peg and I were roommates in college." Lisa hoped that wherever they were, they didn't mind her using them in her story. "We're planning to make a day of it tomorrow since they're on vacation, too," she said, establishing a reason for her absence tomorrow.
    "You must invite them over some time. I'd like to meet them," her aunt suggested.
    "I'll do that," Lisa smiled. What else could she say?
    From the archway came the sound of someone clearing her throat to attract attention, and Lisa glanced over her shoulder to see the unsmiling face of the housekeeper framed in the opening.
    "If you'd all come into the dining room, I'll dish up the soup," she announced gruffly.
    "We're coming," Mitzi agreed, and Slade was at the older woman's side when she rose from her chair.
    "Did you fix my favorite, Mildred?" There was a teasing lightness to Slade's question.
    Lisa was surprised to see the housekeeper flustered by his inquiry. There was a definite pink in her cheeks, which she tried to hide by turning away.
    "It's she-crab soup, if that's what you're asking," she retorted.
    Not only was her aunt under his spell, Lisa realized, but the housekeeper was as well. Lisa had not thought anything or anyone could pierce that armor of weary indifference that