All or Nothing Read Free Page A

her outfit was expensive, a different league from her office suit of last time. Bright blue lace, skirt too short and showing a lot of––quite good––leg. A little too tight, a touch too obvious. But the guy seemed to like it alright, he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. And she’d bet they weren’t talking business. No pictures of houses on the table this time, just a couple of flutes of champagne. She wondered whether he had bought a house from her and this was the celebration. If so, he didn’t look like a happy camper. Probably thinking about the size of his new mortgage.
    She smiled as she saw Al striding toward her. “Loping” was a better description. He had this shambling cowboy kind of walk, sexy as hell. It was the first thing she had noticed about him at that party. That and his lean, hard body and his total indifference to the Hollywood glitz scene going on around him. Ah, she had thought, a man of integrity. Here in Babylon. How intriguing. She went weak at the knees now, just looking at him.
    Marla was wearing white to set off her newly acquired Tecate tan: an ankle–length silk jersey skirt slit to the thigh, and a tiny white chiffon top embroidered with pale green butterflies. It clung to her narrow waist and nestled on her round breasts, delicate as a breeze. Al thought she looked sensational and he regretted being late. Except he would enjoy getting her going . . . he liked to see her eyes flash when she was angry. Like now.
    “Bastard,” she said by way of greeting.
    He lifted a shoulder, grinning at her. “Got it in one, sweetheart. Though my mother wouldn’t thank you for that description.”
    She raised her face to be kissed. “I’ve not met your mother.”
    “A pleasure yet to come.”
    She glanced curiously at him. “Are you joking? Or did you really mean that?”
    “I meant it. My mom is one of a kind. Brought up six boys single–handed, and somehow instilled moral values into us all––though I admit, with me it was chancy.”
    “A guy who loves his mom.” She squeezed his hand affectionately. “No wonder I love you.”
    “Love? I thought it was sexual chemistry between us?” She lifted his hand to her mouth and bit hard. He laughed. “Ouch. Okay, okay, I didn’t mean it.”
    “So tell me, Mr. Private Eye, is it sex or just plain business between our real estate tycoon and the poor sap who looks as though he’s just realizing he’s paid too much for a house?”
    Al glanced at the couple at the nearby table. “Are they following us?” he asked, surprised.
    “They’re probably wondering the same thing about us. Perhaps we should say hello. I feel as though I already know them.”
    Al stared thoughtfully at them. They were oblivious to anyone else, lost in their own conversation. Or rather
her
conversation. The woman was animated as all get out, smiling, arms waving, crossing and recrossing her––quite good––legs. “Nah. She’s putting on quite a show for him. Doesn’t need us.”
    “Think he’s interested?”
    “I wouldn’t bet on it. The guy looks as though he’s just swallowed a dose of castor oil instead of a mouthful of champagne.”
    “Castor oil?” She looked mystified and he laughed.
    “One of Mom’s old–fashioned remedies for all that ails you. She used it frequently on us when we were kids.”
    “I don’t even want to think about it.” Marla shuddered. “More important, where are you taking me for dinner? And before you answer, remember, I told you that tonight would cost you.”
    Al took a wad of winners’ greenbacks from his pocket, flicking through them with his thumb. “Only the best for my girl tonight.”
    “The best is a full partnership.”
    “Are you kidding?” He was laughing as they wandered back down the terrace, leaving the real estate couple to mull over the too–expensive house they felt sure he had just bought.
    They were both wrong. Steve Mallard had not bought a house. Laurie had shown him a dozen but none