Your Bed or Mine? Read online

  They certainly hadn’t offered to console her. Much less take her out to dinner!

  Alicia shook her head. She wasn’t even sure why she bothered.

  Since her divorce, she’d completely exhausted herself trying to think of ways to keep Jen and Tish from avoiding her. She’d tried to start a book club, with no success. She’d also hosted every type of makeup, home interior, cooking utensil, and jewelry party available.

  Have it and they will come.

  That’s what she’d kept telling herself.

  Alicia sighed.

  I’ve had it, all right!

  She’d had it with playing nice to get their attention.

  I’ll give them a reason to notice me.

  And I’m standing at his front door right now!

  She’d come up with her new Seduce-Rick-Clark plan late yesterday evening when she’d noticed all of the frantic activity going on at the Clark house. All of the running back and forth to the garage, gathering up box after box of Zada’s belongings.

  That’s when she’d realized what was really going on.

  That Rick had won the house in the divorce.

  That Rick, not Zada, was going to be her neighbor!

  She’d been so excited, she’d hardly closed her eyes all night. This morning, Zada’s Lexus was missing from its usual place in the driveway, and Rick’s Hummer had taken its place. This was the reason she was standing at Rick’s front door now.

  The proverbial early bird, worming my way into the Housewives’ Fantasy Club.

  The front door opened.

  Alicia snapped to attention.

  Rick seemed surprised to see her, but he smiled.

  “Hi, Alicia,” he said. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  Alicia smiled back.

  Her best femme fatale smile, to be exact.

  “Actually, Rick,” she said, “I came over to see if there was anything I could do for you.”

  Zada’s dark brown eyes narrowed.

  Alicia’s breathy voice always made her gag.

  Simon growled in agreement.

  She’d clipped the leash to Simon’s collar and headed out of the kitchen after Rick left to answer the door. But she’d come to a screeching halt in the foyer when she heard Alicia’s voice.

  What the hell is she doing here?

  Friends, they weren’t.

  Alicia had always blamed her for breaking up the friendship Alicia had with Jen and Tish before she moved to Woodberry Park, which was absolutely ridiculous. She’d had nothing to do whatsoever with Jen and Tish’s decision to avoid Alicia whenever possible.

  After her divorce, Alicia simply no longer fit into the suburban couples scene. Add that to the fact that men couldn’t keep from falling all over themselves in Alicia’s presence, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why the former Alicia Carlton—now Alicia Greene—was not at the top of Woodberry Park’s married couple guest list.

  Or as Tish put it, “Alicia Greene is what you’d get if you put Anna Nicole Smith and Pamela Anderson in a blender. Except with ten times the class. Old family money. And a freaking MBA from Harvard.”

  In other words, every wife’s nightmare.

  The nightmare said, “I couldn’t help but notice Jen and Tish coming over to help Zada pack up all her things from the garage last night. That’s when I realized you got the house in the divorce.”

  Dammit!

  You just implicated Jen and Tish.

  I didn’t want Rick to know they were here last night!

  “I know how devastating a divorce can be, Rick,” she gushed on, sugar dripping from every word.

  Zada rolled her eyes.

  Please.

  Taking your wealthy neurosurgeon ex-husband for a cool two million dollars does NOT qualify as devastating!

  “That’s why I wanted to be the first one to welcome you back home. After all,” she said, her flirty little giggle echoing through the foyer, “you and I are the minority here in happily-ever-after land, you know.”

  You’re about to be the first FATALITY here in happily-ever-after land!

  “If you ever need to talk to someone who’s already gone through what you’re going through now,” she said, “don’t forget I’m right across the street.”

  I’m sure you’ll remind him on a daily basis!

  “And for you, Rick,” she added, her voice low and sexy, “I’ll always be available. Any time. Day or night.”

  Can the woman be any more obvious?

  She’s a man-eater, you idiot.

  Surely you can see that!

  “That’s really sweet of you, Alicia,” the idiot had the nerve to say. “Thanks a lot. I appreciate the offer.”

  Alicia?

  Sweet?

  That does it!

  Zada marched forward, pulling Simon with her. Simon growled again when they reached the door. She didn’t know who looked more startled—Rick or Alicia. But Zada definitely knew who she wanted to strangle. It wasn’t the blond bombshell with the low-cut top that showed everything but the nipples of her (all real, dammit) 38DD!

  Rick said, “Alicia just came by to …”

  “I heard,” Zada said.

  She reached out… and slam! went the front door, right in Alicia’s supermodel-perfect smirking face.

  Rick’s mouth dropped open in shock.

  He looked at the closed door, then back at Zada.

  “That was rude,” he said, frowning at her. “Everyone knows you can be ornery as hell when you want to be, Zada, but I’ve never known you to be rude before.”

  “And I’ve never known you to have amnesia before,” Zada said right back. “We had an agreement, Rick. No other women in my house. Remember that conversation?”

  “My house,” Rick corrected. “And if I decide to take Alicia up on her offer, I’ll do what you said you’d do. We’ll hang out over at her place.” His smirk said he knew he’d just made a major coup, throwing her own words back in her face like that. Even worse, the twinkle in his damn blue eyes said he was loving every minute of it.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  Paybacks are such unequivocal bitches!

  “Why don’t you hang out over at Alicia’s place permanently?” Zada told him, refusing to be outdone. “You’d save us both a lot of trouble.”

  “Nah,” Rick said, grinning at her now. “I think I’ll stick around here. It’s good to be back home.”

  “Enjoy it while you can,” Zada warned him. “You’re the one who’s going to be leaving soon. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Oh, I’m not I going anywhere, either,” Rick vowed. “Except to take Simon on his morning walk.” He held his hand out for the leash. “You were right about consistency being one of my golden rules,” he added. He was even smart enough to drop the irritating grin. “We shouldn’t confuse Simon by changing his routine.”

  Zada handed the leash right over. She didn’t even put up a fight. But the perplexed look on Rick’s face?

  Almost worth giving in.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  He sent another suspicious look back over his shoulder as he led Simon out of the foyer toward the kitchen and the nearest route to the jogging trail—a look that said he was still waiting for her to change her mind.

  Zada was waiting, too.

  Waiting for Rick and Simon to leave.

  The back door opened.

  The back door closed.

  Zada hit the front door running.

  She had a more important agenda bleeping on her radar.

  Mayday Mayday.

  Desperate Housewife to Bombshell Control.

  Simon’s morning walk was the least of Zada’s worries.

  Chapter 6

  “Alicia, wait!”

  Alicia turned around when Zada yelled.

  She was already walking up the steps to the most expensive home in Woodberry Park. The house was a sprawling Tudor-style manor, with more money tied up in the landscaping than Zada had made on he
r last book.

  Short of money—or cramped for space—Miss Right-Across-the-Street wasn’t. Nor was Alicia lacking in the men-magnet department. Namely, thirty-eight, twenty-four, thirty-six.

  Zada squared her shoulders and started across the street, but it was Angie’s warning about Rick knowing the one thing that would make her walk out and never look back, that put urgency in her step. She didn’t like to think about Rick with any woman. But Rick romancing Alicia right under her nose was another story.

  Angie was right.

  I’d never survive it.

  I’d walk out the door and never look back.

  Her only choice was to win Alicia over to her side before things got out of control. Before Rick realized what an excellent weapon Alicia would be to use against her.

  I can do this, Zada assured herself.

  She made her way up the expensive flagstone walkway.

  Alicia was standing at the top of the stone steps now, hands on her hips, and an icy glare that threatened to make frost of the early morning dew.

  Zada marched up the porch steps anyway.

  Be nice. Be nice. Be nice.

  Even if it kills me, I have to be nice.

  “I was rude, Alicia,” Zada said when she stepped onto the porch. “I came to apologize.”

  Alicia looked her up and down. “You were extremely rude,” she corrected.

  “Oh, don’t push it, Alicia,” Zada said, forgetting all about her be-nice speech. “How did you expect me to react? You were trying to seduce my husband!”

  Alicia’s eyebrow arched. “Don’t you mean ex-husband.”

  “No, I mean husband,” Zada assured her. But she added, after a long sigh, “At least for the next ninety days.”

  “Well, excuse me,” Alicia snipped. “I thought your divorce was final yesterday.”

  “Look, Alicia,” Zada said, “I’m in a real sticky situation where Rick is concerned right now, and I need your help. Until we’re divorced, I’m asking you woman to woman to stay on your side of the street. I’m serious, Alicia. Will you do that for me?”

  Up came the eyebrow again.

  “Maybe,” Alicia said. “If you tell me what’s really going on.”

  Common sense warned Zada Alicia couldn’t be trusted. But desperation whispered: Keep your enemies close. Zada opted for the latter.

  A quick two-minute rundown later, Zada said, “So that’s the whole story. Now do you see why I’m asking that you not make the situation any more complicated than it already is?”

  Alicia’s pink-painted lips curved in a catty smile.

  “I’m not stupid, Zada,” she said. “If you really wanted Rick out of the picture, you’d be delighted I was in the mood to take him off your hands. You’re obviously not through with him, yet. And even if you were, we both know the last person you’d want Rick to end up with is me.”

  Busted.

  But Zada said, “Be careful, Alicia, I can go from zero to bitch as fast as you can.”

  Alicia smiled again.

  Hiss-like this time.

  “I don’t doubt that for a minute,” Alicia said.

  Zada said, “So, what’s it going to be, Alicia? Are you willing to back off, or aren’t you?”

  Alicia said, “I could be persuaded to back off. If you’ll tell me the truth about something else.”

  “Name it,” Zada said.

  “Tell me what really goes on at your Housewives’ Fantasy Club meetings.”

  What?

  Zada laughed.

  It had all started over a silly conversation they were having with the guys about why men couldn’t just tell the truth about whether or not a woman’s butt looked fat in whatever she was wearing.

  “You can’t handle the truth,” Rick had joked, doing his best Jack Nicholson imitation from A Few Good Men.

  “I agree,” Zada had said, laughing. “Forget the truth. Give me a fairy godmother!”

  After that, the guys had started calling them the Housewives’ Fantasy Club, teasing them that only a fairy godmother could ever make their butts look skinny enough to suit them. Zada, Jen, and Tish had laughed themselves silly over the outrageous rumors that quickly spread through Woodberry Park after the nickname got out—everyone putting their own twist on the true meaning behind why they were called the Housewives’ Fantasy Club.

  But Zada wasn’t going to admit that.

  Not to Alicia any-time-day-or-night Greene!

  “Well?” Alicia said.

  “What do you think goes on, Alicia?” Zada asked.

  The catty smile was back.

  “What do I think personally?” Alicia asked.

  Zada nodded.

  “Nothing,” Alicia said smugly. “Absolutely nothing.”

  Busted. Again.

  “You’re wrong,” Zada lied.

  Alicia tossed her shimmering (naturally blond, dammit) hair over one tanned shoulder. “Then the rumors about the three of you sharing your sexual fantasies are true?”

  Zada only nodded. The foot in her mouth wouldn’t let her speak.

  Alicia said, “Invite me to your meeting tonight and prove it.”

  Life’s a bitch.

  Then it has puppies!

  “I can’t do that,” Zada said.

  Alicia looked pointedly at Zada’s house.

  Zada frowned.

  “No invitation,” Alicia said, “no backing off.”

  Zada was tempted to give in, but only for a second.

  Invite Alicia so she can expose us as frauds?

  Not one of my fairy godmother wishes!

  “Maybe you’re right,” Zada lied. “I should be glad you’re in the mood to take Rick off my hands. Go for it, Alicia. You’ll be saving me a lot of trouble.”

  Zada whirled around and started down the steps.

  “You make a lousy liar, Zada,” Alicia called after her.

  Frack!

  Zada didn’t even bother calling out an answer. Fists clenched, she stomped back across the street. And she cursed desperation with every step she took.

  Unleashing Alicia on Rick was just plain stupid!

  Alicia waited until Zada was out of sight before she went inside the house. The second she closed the door behind her, Alicia did a wild Snoopy dance all around her foyer. Her dancing came to a screeching halt when she looked up and saw her cleaning lady, who was standing at the top of the stairway, staring at her as if Alicia had suddenly gone mad.

  “Is there a problem, Roberta?”

  Roberta shook her head, then went about her business.

  To hell with Roberta!

  Let the woman think she was crazy. Alicia was too excited to care. She wasn’t interested in Rick Clark. Never had been. Rick had only been the means to an end. The end of her being treated like the piranha of Woodberry Park.

  Alicia smiled to herself.

  All she had to do now was make Zada think she was pursuing Rick. Within the week, she’d have that invitation. Most likely served up on a freaking silver platter!

  And what a relief not having to throw herself at Rick. Rick had been cordial enough to her, sure, but Alicia knew he wasn’t interested.

  Alicia laughed out loud.

  It was the first time in her life another woman seeing her as a threat might actually work to her advantage.

  And women had always seen her as a threat.

  Or as her twin brother Alfie had told her more than once, “Face it, sis. All you have to do to piss other women off is walk into the room.”

  Well, dammit, she was tired of women acting pissed off. And even more tired of getting pissed on! Her famous ex-husband quickly came to mind. What a laugh her marriage to Edward Carlton had been. Except “tragic” was a better word.

  And as for her big two-million-dollar settlement?

  Nothing but Edward’s hush money.

  As if she had any interest in telling the world she’d caught the charming neurosurgeon—not with another woman—but going at it with their twenty-somet
hing Latino pool guy!

  She’d accepted the money only because she’d known how Edward agonized over parting with a penny. And though his betrayal screamed for revenge far exceeding a measly two million dollars, she was simply a better person than he.

  What Edward had done to her was unforgivable, but he was still a gifted neurosurgeon who saved people’s lives daily. Even her own wounded pride and her shattered faith in men, didn’t, in her opinion, justify ruining his career.

  She had to believe Edward would get what was coming to him in his own good time. She just hoped she lived long enough to see it happen.

  Alicia sighed.

  The brunt of everyone’s joke; that’s what she’d always been. Too smart. Too pretty. Too rich to fit in. And obviously too stupid to realize Edward was gay.

  Well, dammit, she was over it! It was time she stopped feeling sorry for herself, and took control of her life.

  Too menacing NOT to be included!

  From here on out, this was going to be her new motto!

  Rick looked up to see Charlie Marshall and Joe Jones heading down the path in his direction. Simon’s head came up instinctively when Rick stopped walking, his nose sniffing the air. The dog wagged his tail when he picked up the scent.

  When Charlie and Joe walked up and stopped in front of them, Charlie said, “Good to have you back, Rick. How does it feel to be home?”

  “Ask me later,” Rick said, “after I haul all of Zada’s junk out of the living room and back to the garage.”

  He shook hands with Charlie first.

  Then with Joe.

  That people often mistook them for brothers when they were together, was understandable. They were both around six feet tall, both had dark hair, dark eyes. Like him, they both worked out regularly and kept in shape.

  The three of them had formed an instant bond from the first day he and Zada moved to Woodberry Park. It had been the same for the wives—best friends on sight.

  Charlie said, “Yeah, I heard about Zada’s welcome home present.”

  “What present?” asked Joe.

  Charlie looked at Joe. “Didn’t Tish tell you?”

  Joe shook his head. “Tish gave me a rundown about the whole Survivor scenario, but it was late when I got home last night. She didn’t mention any present.”

  Rick said, “The girls trashed the living room last night. Zada’s way of letting me know what I’m facing if I try to stick it out over the next ninety days.”