Body Language. Millie Criswell

eyes widened, even as her stomach took a dive south. “Will’s gay? Are you sure?” He sure didn’t come across as gay. Not that it was all that easy to tell. But some homosexual men were swishier than others.

      The blonde smiled. “Yeah, pretty sure. He’s out in the lobby kissing some dark-haired guy. Apparently they had a tiff this morning.” She shrugged. “Oh well. Doesn’t mean he’s still not a great trainer. Just a sad loss to the female population at large, if you know what I mean.”

      Ellie did. All the really cute men she’d dated or contemplated dating were either gay, married, or had commitment problems.

      That was Joey Fratelli—thirty-four and still living with his mama, who did his laundry and cooked and cleaned for him. Rosemary had adored the dentist, which was reason enough for Ellie not to see him again, even though Joey had been very good with a drill.

      Robert Lipscomb liked to dress up in women’s clothing, and the hell of it was, he’d had a better wardrobe than she did. Then there was Brian Pomeroy, who harbored an unreasonable hatred of dogs, especially ones who peed in his shoes.

      And last, but certainly not least, was Michael—the man she had foolishly given her heart to, the man she had loved and the bastard who had dumped her.

      Numb with the news that her trainer was now out of the picture, as far as dating was concerned, Ellie proceeded to dress, wondering if her bad luck was permanent.

      ARRIVING BACK at her apartment a short time later, Ellie surveyed the mess that Barnaby had made of the remaining packing paper and boxes—which she should have disposed of properly, but hadn’t—scolded the animal half-heartedly, because he was so darn cute—okay, reasonably attractive—then hit the button on her telephone to retrieve her messages.

      Brian’s deep voice boomed out of the phone’s speaker as he demanded in a very impolite manner that Ellie return his “damn key, immediately if not sooner.”

      “Like I really want the damn thing,” she shouted back, wondering what had ever possessed her to live with such an unreasonable, dog-hating man in the first place.

      The second message was from one of her girlfriends, Stephanie Marco, who was calling to see if Ellie wanted to go clubbing this evening. Like Ellie, Steffie was between relationships and had declared that Saturday night was a very good night to get laid.

      “Hard to dispute that, Barn.” Not that she was into casual sex, mind you, but her flirting techniques could use a bit of brushing up. And after seeing Michael, Ellie’s ego needed a boost, as well.

      Too bad someone hadn’t invented breast implants for egos, so you could make them larger when you needed to.

      Ellie needed a 46DD boost right about now.

      Just as she’d deleted the last message, the phone rang, and she thought about not answering it. Sometimes her boss, Mr. Moody, called on the weekend to ask her to come into work, and she wanted to avoid talking to him.

      And did she really need more bad news?

      But deciding it might be Steffie with last-minute details about their night out, she finally picked up.

      She wished she hadn’t.

      Actually, Ellie wished she was dead.

      It was her mother, and Rosemary was crying.

      And the thing is: Rosemary Peters never cried.

      “Never trust a man who doesn’t like dogs.

      Dogs are loyal; men are not!”

      CHAPTER THREE

      “MOM, WHAT is it? Why are you crying? Is something the matter with Dad?”

      “I’ll say there’s something the matter with your father,” Rosemary said in a voice that spewed venom. “Theodore Peters is a bastard. I hate him. He’s a sick man, that’s what he is.”

      Ellie was stunned by her mother’s vehemence, and not because Rosemary’s sharp tongue couldn’t flay the skin off an adversary from twenty paces. But her venom was seldom directed at her husband. Rosemary didn’t believe swearing was appropriate behavior for a woman, no matter the upset.

      Ellie wasn’t certain she could speak in complete sentences without swearing.

      “Could you be more specific?” she asked, unsure if her father was actually sick, as in dying, and her mother hated him for that, or if there was something else wrong, like they’d argued over money. Not an unusual occurrence. But still, her heart raced at the thought that her father might be seriously ill and hadn’t told anyone.

      “I hardly know where to start, Ellie. This isn’t something I want to discuss with you over the phone. I’d rather wait and tell you in person. The shock might be too much for you. I nearly fainted when I found out.”

      Rosemary’s voice cracked, and Ellie’s heart began to pound in her ears. “Dad’s got cancer, doesn’t he? He’s dying, right?” Tears filled her eyes. “Omigod! When did you find out? How long does he have to live? I’ll book a flight, and—”

      “He doesn’t have cancer, but that bastard will wish he was dead when I get through with him.”

      Breathing a deep sigh of relief, she tried to calm herself. It was clear that her mother was distraught for reasons known only to her and Ellie knew she needed to have patience in dealing with the distressed woman. “Calm down, and tell me what happened. You’re scaring me. And start from the beginning, okay? I’m sure whatever the matter is, we can work it out.”

      “Remember how I told you that your father has been spending all of his time on the Internet, and that he didn’t want to do anything else but fiddle with his computer?”

      Ellie started to get a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach that no amount of Zantac could touch. “Yes,” she said cautiously. “You mentioned that the other day when we talked.”

      “But what I didn’t mention was that he’s always so secretive when he’s online. He moved his computer into the spare bedroom several months ago and he stays in there for hours on end. When I complained Ted told me he was working on client accounts or getting his stock quotes updated. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I feel like such a fool.”

      Ellie’s head began to hurt. This was starting to sound like a nail-in-the-coffin alert.

      “Anyway, I went on the computer a little while ago, to find the cruise rates, like you suggested. Your father went to the barbershop to get his haircut, like he does every Saturday morning, so I thought it would be a good time to look for the prices and surprise him with the information when he got home.

      “But I was the one who got surprised. What I found out broke my heart.” Rosemary started sobbing again. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it. How could Ted do this to me? After all these years of marriage…”

      “It can’t be as bad as all that, Mom. Please don’t cry.” Rosemary’s tears were as foreign to Ellie as not eating chocolate. It just didn’t happen.

      Her mother sucked in her breath, blew her nose, then blurted, “Your father is having an affair! There, I said it. It wasn’t easy, but I said it.”

      There was a moment of stunned silence while Ellie digested what her mother had just said. “What? What do you mean…an affair?” Surely her mother was mistaken, overwrought….

      Insane?

      “You know, the kind that older men have on the Internet.”

      “Oh, you mean he’s been visiting porn sites?” She felt a rush of relief. That wasn’t as bad as the other, though it was still out of character for her father.

      “Probably. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I think it’s called a cyberaffair. I found e-mails from another woman, some bimbo named Michelle.