Tempt Me at Midnight by Maureen Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

was a small silence.

    Carlene was suddenly eyeing her pack of cigarettes like a junkie craving a fix.

    Lexi smiled wryly. “If I didn’t know better, I would think something happened to me when I was a baby. Maybe one of the nurses dropped me, or—”

    Her mother’s gaze swung sharply to hers. “Or what? What are you asking me?”

    Taken aback by her reaction, Lexi stammered, “N-nothing. I’m just—”

    “What the hell’s gotten into you tonight? First you accuse me of not being sympathetic enough about your divorce. Now you’re accusing me of, what, child abuse?”

    Lexi frowned. “Of course not.”

    “You’ve never forgiven me for what happened that night,” Carlene fumed bitterly.
    “No matter how many times I’ve apologized for what I did, you’re still holding it against me!”

    “That’s not true!” Lexi burst out in angry disbelief. “If I still blamed you, would I be here? You treat me like crap, Ma, but guess what? I’m. Still. Here. ”

    Resentment darkened her mother’s face. “I know what this is about. You spent the weekend with that bourgeois woman and decided she was a better mother than me because she’s rich and sophisticated and drinks fine wine. Well, let me tell you something. I did everything for you and your siblings when you were growing up. Everything! I have nothing to—”

    Lexi shoved her chair back from the table and stood on trembling legs. She’d had enough of her mother’s diatribes for one night. “I can’t do this. I need to go.”

    Carlene said nothing as she stalked out of the room to retrieve her coat from the hall closet. She jammed her arms into the sleeves, struggling to get her emotions under control before she got behind the wheel to drive home.

    When it became apparent that her mother wasn’t going to see her to the door or even say good night, she sighed harshly and strode back into the kitchen.

    Carlene was already lighting up another cigarette.

    “Good night, Ma,” Lexi said tersely.

    Sucking in a lungful of smoke, her mother gave her a dismissive wave. The same way she’d greeted her when she arrived.

    As Lexi slammed out of the house, she wondered, for the millionth time, what the hell was keeping her in Atlanta.

Chapter 5

    O n the other side of town, Quentin sat alone at the end of a long mahogany bar in Wolf’s Soul, a popular Atlanta restaurant owned by his best friend, Michael. Quentin was hunched over a bottle of beer he’d been nursing for the past half hour.

    Taking a long sip, he looked up at the plasma television mounted above the counter.
    A rerun of Michael’s Emmy-winning show, Howlin’ Good, was on the air. It was one of the
    “macho man” themed episodes, which featured no-frills recipes geared toward “manly”
    appetites. Michael hosted one of these shows every season as an opportunity to invite his father’s old police comrades to fill the studio audience. The men stomped, hollered and cheered their way through the whole taping. And viewers loved every rowdy minute of it.

    Quentin watched in brooding silence, his eyes glazing over the familiar images.

    “Whose funeral was today?”

    He glanced around as Michael plopped down on the stool beside him, dressed in his white chef’s jacket and black pants.

    “What’s up, man?” he greeted Quentin, clapping him on the back.

    Quentin grunted in response.

    A bottle of beer materialized before Michael. “On the house, boss,” the bartender said with a wink and a grin.

    Michael grinned back, raising his bottle in a mock toast.

    The man hitched his chin toward Quentin. “Can I get you another cold one, Counselor?”

    “Naw, I’m good. Thanks.”

    As the bartender moved off to tend to another customer, Michael took a swig of beer and eyed Quentin’s brooding profile. “Seriously, man. Did someone die?”

    “No,” Quentin murmured. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

    “Of course.” Michael nodded. “The trial starts tomorrow. That’s