Fancy Pants (Wynette, Texas #1)(152)

“Well, if it isn't Russia's best friend,” Dallie replied.

Gerry lowered the hand he had been extending for a shake. “That line's starting to wear thin.”

“You're a real bastard, you know that, Jaffe?” Dallie said slowly, not seeing any need for preliminaries.

Gerry had a hot temper of his own, but he managed to turn his back on Dallie and begin walking off down the street. Dallie, however, had no intention of letting him get away so easily, not when Holly Grace's happiness was at stake. For some reason she wanted this guy, and he just might be able to give her a shot at having him.

He began to move forward and soon fell in step next to Gerry. It was dark and there were few people on the street. Garbage cans lined the curb. They passed the grate-covered windows of a bakery and a jeweler.

Gerry picked up his pace. “Why don't you go play with your golf balls?” he said.

“As a matter of fact, I was just stopping by to have a little talk with you before I went to see Holly Grace.” It was a lie. Dallie had no intention of seeing Holly Grace that night “Do you want me to give her your regards?”

Gerry stopped walking. The glow from a streetlight fell on his face. “I want you to stay away from Holly Grace.”

Dallie still had yesterday's defeat on his mind, and he wasn't in the mood for subtlety, so he went in for a swift, merciful kill. “Now, that would be kind of hard for me to do. It's just about impossible to get a woman good and pregnant if you're not right there on top of the job.”

Gerry's eyes turned black. His hand shot out and he grabbed the front of Dallie's sport coat. “You tell me right now what you're talking about.”

“She's determined to have a baby, is all,” Dallie said, not making any attempt to get away, “and only one of us seems to be man enough to do the job.”

Gerry's olive skin paled as he released Dallie's jacket. “You f*cking son of a bitch.”

Dallie's answering drawl was soft and menacing. “Fucking is something I'm real good at, Jaffe.”

Gerry ended two decades of dedicated nonviolence by drawing back his fist and slamming it into Dallie's chest. Gerry wasn't much of a fighter and Dallie saw the blow coming, but he decided to let Jaffe have his one shot because he knew damn well he wasn't going to give him another. Righting himself, Dallie started back toward Gerry. Holly Grace could have this son of a bitch if she wanted him, but first he was going to rearrange his face.

Gerry stood with his arms at his sides, his chest heaving, and watched Dallie coming at him. When Dallie's fist caught him in the jaw, he flew across the sidewalk and banged into the garbage cans, sending them clattering out into the street. A man and woman coming down the sidewalk saw the fight and rapidly turned back. Gerry got up slowly, lifting the back of his hand to wipe the blood that was flowing from his lip.

Then he turned and began to walk away.

“Fight me, you son of a bitch,” Dallie called after him.

“I won't fight,” Gerry called back.

“Well, now, aren't you a prime example of American manhood? Come on and fight. I'll give you another free punch.”

Gerry kept walking. “I shouldn't have hit you in the first place, and I won't do it again.”

Dallie rapidly closed the distance between them, jerking Gerry around by his shoulder. “For Christ's sake, I just told you I was getting ready to knock up Holly Grace!”

Gerry's fists clenched at his side, but he didn't move.

Dallie grabbed the front of Gerry's bomber jacket and pushed him against a light post. “What the hell's wrong with you? I'd have fought an army for that woman. Can't you even fight one person?”

Gerry looked at him contemptuously. “Is that the only way you know how to solve a problem? With your fists?”

“At least I try to solve my problems. All you've done is make her miserable.”

“You don't know jackshit, Beaudine. I've been trying for weeks to talk to her, but she won't see me. The last time I managed to get past the guards at the studio, she called the cops on me.”

“Did she, now?” Dallie smiled unpleasantly and slowly let go of Gerry's jacket. “You know something? I don't like you, Jaffe. I don't like people who act like they have all the answers. Most of all, I don't like smug do-gooders who make all kinds of noble noises about saving the world but screw over the people who care about them.”

Gerry was breathing harder than Dallie, and he had trouble getting out his words. “This doesn't have anything to do with you.”

“Anybody who gets tangled up in Holly Grace's life sooner or later runs into me. She wants a baby, and for some reason that I sure as hell can't figure out, she wants you, too.”

Gerry leaned back against the light post. For a moment his head dropped, and then he lifted it again, his eyes dark with misery. “Tell me why it's such a goddamn crime not to want to bring a kid into this world. Why does she have to be so stubborn? Why can't it just be the two of us?”

Gerry's obvious pain touched Dallie, but he did his best to ignore it. “She wants a baby, is all.”

“I'd be the worst father in the world. I don't know anything about being a father.”

Dallie's laugh was soft and bitter. “You think any of us do?”