Bombshell

“That’s a funny kind of name. Bombshell.”

She fixed Merrick with her gaze, then she dropped her head. “I feel so bad about this,” she began. “I know you said that we’re engaged, but I… I can’t remember your name either.”

He should be explaining that she had heard wrong. That they had never been engaged, that she had been under the influence of pain meds when she’d misheard him. He should have taken that opportunity to set things straight and then work on convincing her to go back with him for logical reasons, such as furthering her career and avoiding a lunatic sheriff. But she seemed so miserable, and so fragile, he couldn’t do it. And when her lips quivered, all he wanted was to kiss them still. Hold her. Never let her go.

He brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, calming her.

“Please don’t worry about that, sweetheart, I understand. My name is Merrick, Merrick Flynn.”

Upon hearing his name, the girl seemed to relax. A tiny smile appeared on her face and almost reached her eyes. “So, that means I’m going to be Bombshell Flynn?”

“Sugar, I’m sorry, Bombshell is just your stage name, not your real name,” Merrick blurted before realizing what that meant.

“What’s my real name, then?” she asked. Merrick had no idea what to say. Why couldn’t she have just stayed Bombshell? Well, it was too late now. He glanced at Joann, desperate for some help. She shrugged, equally perplexed.

Merrick peeked surreptitiously about the room and focused on the mini framed masters. He spotted the Mona Lisa, a van Gogh and a van Dyck. “Uh, your real name is Mona Lisa – Mona Lisa Van Dyke.”

“Mona Lisa Van Dyke,” the girl said. She repeated the name over and over again, rolling it around on her tongue like a lemon drop. “I like it, it sounds rich. Am I rich? Are my parents rich?”

A warning flag snapped in the back of Merrick’s mind. Was she playing him? Did she know he was a billionaire? Was this all part of some elaborate gold digger con and he was the mark? He watched her face carefully. No tells. If she was conning him, he’d have to keep her out of the poker room.

“Merrick?” the girl said, looking at him.

He realized she was waiting for an answer. He forgot her question. Oh yes, she wanted to know if she was rich and if her parents were rich. How would he answer that? If they were engaged, he couldn’t just say she’d never told him. “You’re adopted, honey, you never knew your parents.”

Joann shot Merrick a now-you’ve-gone-too-far expression. Merrick returned his focus to Bombshell, whose full lower lip was sticking out in a sweet kissable pout.

“I was adopted?” she asked. “That’s so sad.”

Her eyes were tearing up again. Merrick felt like a heel. Why did he say that? Did he have to kill her parents?

“Okay, so I was adopted, but surely you can tell me other things about my life. What do I do? Where do I live? How did we meet?”

Merrick squirmed. Was she playing him? He watched her face for any sign of sarcasm. But there was nothing. He couldn’t think of any way to answer her questions. He gulped.

To his relief and gratitude, Joann came to his rescue, motioning for Merrick to get off the couch and then taking his spot.

“Bombshell,” she said as she took the girl’s hands in hers. “That’s enough talking for now. You need more rest. Sleep another hour or so, and then we’ll get you dressed and take you up to your fiancé’s cabin. Then the two of you can get reacquainted and you can have all your questions answered.”

“That’s right,” Merrick said, standing up to go. “I’ve got some work to do. I’ll see you later.” He leaned down to kiss her lightly on the top of her head, then walked out the front door, the smell of honeysuckle and cinnamon lingering on his lips.

When he got back to the cabin, he used the house phone and called Tony.

“Tony, were you able to book the bird?”

“Nice to hear your voice, too, bro.”

“Sorry – I’m a little preoccupied.”

“I bet. Rescuing damsels in distress, and avoiding work.”

“Are you coming anytime soon or not?”

“Not. Can’t come until tonight.”

“Good, then we can be back in Atlantic City before midnight.”

“What? Hell, no. Merrick. No pilot is going to fly in those mountains after dark. You better have a room for me and the pilot – ’cause we’re spending the night. And besides, I want to see that legendary fishing creek of yours.”