Getting Some Of Her Own (25 page)

“You got the lion's share,” she said. “He's been very generous.”

“I'll earn everything I get, Mama. Nothing in this life comes free, and I'm preparing myself right now for some family skullduggery led by Enid Jackson-Moore.”

She shook her head from side to side as if unable to contemplate what had happened. “I know you can take care of yourself, Son. Just watch your back.”

“The wheels of progress move so slowly,” Susan said to Ann Price on a Monday afternoon late in May. “That agency still hasn't acknowledged receipt of my application to adopt Rudy.”

“It's been that way all my life,” Ann said. “People say patience is a virtue, but if you ask me, it's a blessing if you got it. I sure hope they do something soon.” She stopped peeling apples for a pie and looked at Susan. “Not that Rudy's any trouble, but I'm just so worn out lately.”

Susan sat down and leaned against the back of the chair. Ann's sluggishness had worried her for days. “Can't they stay with me?”

“I wish they could. Yesterday morning early, one of the social workers was here claiming she just dropped by. If Rudy hadn't been here, they would probably have taken her away from me. So I guess she can't stay away overnight again.”

“I can at least do the laundry and grocery shopping for you. It won't be much of a help, all things considered, but it's something I can do.”

Unshed tears glistened in Ann's eyes. “I ought to say no, thank you, Susan, but it would be such a relief. God bless you.”

As Susan drove to her shop, she thought of her good fortune compared to Ann's problems. The woman was not well, and yet she had the burden of raising her four grandchildren on a pensioner's income. She had desperately needed the income from Rudy's foster care, but she treated the child as one of her own.
I would give anything for a family with a . . .
she hesitated
—with the man I love. But I can't have a family, so I can't have him. He deserves his birthright. But I have my health and a good life, something that Ann would love to have.

With the tutoring program nearing its end, she wouldn't see Rudy unless she went to Ann's house, and if she did that too often, would she wear out her welcome? But if she didn't have to see Lucas twice a week maybe she would finally get him out of her system
. Foolish thinking. I'll never get him out of my system, and maybe that's the price I have to pay for using him
.

She parked in front of her shop, went inside and checked her mail. Who was Enid Jackson-Moore? She read further. The woman wanted her summer house decorated before hot weather set in, and the house was in Nags Head, on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. She could do that, provided the place wasn't too large. Her priority at present was Hamilton Village. She telephoned the woman.

“Mrs. Jackson-Moore, this is Susan Pettiford. I've just received your letter. I have a commitment, but I may be able to decorate your house if it isn't too large. What do you need?”

“I appreciate your calling. With your reputation, you must be very busy. Jessica Burton is singing your praises, and I saw your work in
Architectural Design
. I'm facing the ocean, almost right on the beach, and I want the house to reflect that. I mean, no reds. I have five rooms.”

“I have to see it. If I decide to do it, we'll sign a contract. I can get over there this coming Sunday.”

“Great.” She gave her the address and her cell phone number. “I'll be there all weekend. I can't tell you how happy I'll be if you'll do it.”

Susan finished the call as quickly as possible and hung up. She'd bet anything that the woman was only interested in staying even with Jessica Burton. “It will cost you,” she said aloud.

She walked into the neat, two-bedroom house that Sunday and stared out at the Atlantic Ocean through the glass wall that was the back of the house, a challenge to any interior decorator. The large deck beyond it put a limit on what she could do with that living room without ruining the setting and the view.

“Well, what do you think?” Enid asked her. “What can you do with that glass wall?”

“Wall-to-wall accordion Chinese screens that stand folded in each corner. When you want privacy, you close them and cover the window.”

“Won't they be too heavy to pull around?”

“They'll be on a track. Not to worry.”

“And you figured that out just like that? Where's the contract? I fixed us some lunch.”

While Enid set the table and served the lunch, Susan looked around the remainder of the house and filled in the blanks in the contract. Enid signed it and motioned to Susan.

“Come on, let's eat. It's already one o'clock. I usually spend the entire summer here, straight through the hurricane season and sometimes a good part of the winter. I have a small apartment in Danville, but this is my preferred residence.”

“Do you live alone? As your decorator, I need to know whether anyone lives with you. Comfort for men is not the same as comfort for women.”

Enid rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “My husband and I separated four years ago. I don't need a divorce and don't plan to give him one. I've had my fill of men. My own father just threw a sack of shit in my face.”

Susan's eyes widened at that unexpected descent into street language.

“All of a sudden,” Enid continued, “six months ago he announced that he had a bastard son from a four-year adulterous affair that neither my mother, my sister nor I knew anything about. Two weeks ago, he got us all together—and turned over everything he owns to his son—everything, including his business.”

Susan could only hope her surprise wasn't written on her face. She couldn't believe her new client was Lucas' half sister. “What will your father do now that he doesn't manage his own business?” she asked, hoping to get off the subject of Lucas.

“He told us he's going to see the world, do all the things he's always longed to do.”

“Will your mother travel with him?”

“I can't imagine them doing anything together. They'd kill each other. One of them says something, and the other doesn't even respond. Their marriage is worse than mine ever was.”

“That's a pity.” She looked for a way to end the conversation, for she suspected that if Enid had a listener, she would talk incessantly until midnight. “I'd better be getting back to the airport. I'll e-mail you my sketches, and I'd like you to let me know what you think as soon as you can.”

“All right. It's been wonderful getting to know you. I'm sure I'll be pleased. If you'll wait two or three minutes, I'll drive you to the airport.” When she smiled, she resembled Lucas, Susan realized. “I hope we're going to be good friends.”

“Thanks so much,” Susan said, “and thank you for the wonderful lunch.” She ignored Enid's offer of friendship, because she didn't think a friendship with her possible in the circumstances. Furthermore, she suspected that Enid thought mainly of her own words and needs, and not of anyone's consideration of them or response to them.

When she returned home a few minutes after seven, the light on her answering machine was blinking. She returned Lucas's call first. “Hi. I just got in. What's up?” she asked him.

“Have supper with me,” he said. “Unless you've already eaten.”

She shouldn't do it. Nothing but misery could come of a deepening relationship with him. “I . . . uh . . . all right, but not any place fancy.”

“But I want a decent meal,” he said. “I was thinking of Pinky's.”

“Pinky's in the evening means I have to put on a decent-looking dress.”

“You have to do that anytime of day. Besides, are you suggesting that I'm not worth it?”

She detected the laughter in his voice, but ignored it. “Sweetheart, you're worth far more than a dress.” At his long silence, she added, “Aren't you?”

“You're flirting with me, but I rather like it, and especially since I know you never offer what you won't deliver.”

“You're full of it, Lucas Hamilton,” she blustered. “What time do you want us to meet?”

“I'll be there in forty minutes, and keep yourself in check. I'm in the mood to believe everything you say and do.”

She waited for him just inside her door with her raincoat on and her pocketbook on her arm. “Now, if I can keep him at a distance when he brings me home, I'll pat myself on the back.” Through the dining room window, she watched him dash up the walk with his lips positioned as if he were whistling. She licked her lips as she watched his sexy gait. “He is some man,” she said to herself. “Everything about him screams
man
.” He rang the doorbell and, without thinking, she answered it at once.

“Hi,” he said. “Hmmm. I certainly hope you were expecting
me.”

“What do you mean? Of course I was expecting you.”

He raised one eyebrow. “I'm glad to know it. From the expression of welcome on your face, I'd be happy to stay here and call out for supper.”

She didn't have to wonder what he saw on her face, because she knew what she'd been thinking. “No, thanks,” she said. “I dressed for Pinky's, and that's where I want to go.”

He leaned down and kissed the side of her mouth. “Pinky's, huh? You break my heart. Where's your key? I have a lot to tell you. My life's moving like a spinning top.”

“Mine, too. Which one of us goes first?”

He parked across the street from Pinky's Restaurant, got out and headed around to the passenger door, but she had it open when he got there, held out her hand to him and eased out of the car only slightly hampered by her short, narrow skirt. “You tell your story first,” he said. “Mine will probably last all evening.” They followed the maître d' to their table.

“I dunno,” she said. “My story may be your story. I just left Enid Jackson-Moore.” His eyes widened and a frown replaced the smile he'd worn seconds earlier. “She wrote, asking me to decorate her house on Nags Head, so I went to see it. I'd just left there when I returned your call. I didn't know who she was until she began complaining about her father, and his having given you ownership of his business. Lucas, that sister can talk. She told me all about the family meeting, her parents' relationship over the years, and how her father feels about you.”

Lucas leaned back in the chair. “And how did she say he feels about me?”

“That you're special to him, and she said any fool could see that that's because your mother is his one great love.”

“I suppose that should make me feel great,” he said, “but it doesn't. Both of my parents have been miserable ever since mama told him she was expecting.”

“Enid suggested that she'd like the two of us to be friends, but I don't want that. I don't want a running account of her fights with you and her attitudes toward you and her father. She's a bitter woman, refuses to give her husband a divorce although they've been separated for four years, and I got the impression that she's developed a negative attitude toward men in general. So, I'm going to keep her at arm's length, as my dad used to counsel. I don't want a personal relationship with her.”

“How will you avoid it?”

“What? You're not serious. If I don't want to associate with her, I won't.”

“If you tell her we're lovers, that ought to nip it in the bud.”

She glared at him. “We are not lovers.”

“Don't be silly, Susan. You're the most wonderful lover I've ever had. If you don't remember the first time—and considering how . . . er . . . impassioned you were, I don't see how that's possible—you've
got
to remember what you did to me the second time. I'm human. Are you trying to destroy my ego?”

“Don't make jokes, Lucas. Nothing I say will affect your ego.”

He reached across the table and grasped the fingers of her right hand. “I was joking a minute ago, but I'm serious now. You are the only woman who can take the edge off my ego, so be careful, will you?”

She hadn't been prepared for that. “Look, I . . . hadn't we better order?”

He tightened his hold on her hand. “Why are you afraid of me now? I was a guest in your home and in your bed when you didn't know one thing about me other than that I wore pants and was a few inches taller than you. Susan, I can solve E=mc
²
. You intrigue me far more, so you can bet that I will figure you out, too.”

She withdrew her hands and searched for another subject, anything that would remove his focus from her. She should not have agreed to have supper with him, but she had wanted to tell him of her contract with Enid Jackson-Moore before he learned it from someone else.

“Thank you for the lovely presents that Nathan and Rudy gave me. I was flabbergasted. How did you know that I love amber?”

His facial expression told her that she hadn't fooled him and that he would question her again about her reason for making love with him that first time. He explained how he happened to take the children shopping. “Nathan fell in love with that necklace, and I helped Rudy select something that matched it.” He reached into his pocket and handed her a small box. “This is from me.”

She opened the box and looked at the oval shaped amber earrings that matched the children's gifts. She hardly trusted herself to look at him. “You're . . . these are beautiful.”
Why would he do things like this to me? I'm not going to get weepy
. “I'll wear them often. Thank you.”

“You started to tell me something about myself. What was it? I need to know, Susan.”

She shook her head. “I—”

“May I have your order now, sir?”

After they gave their orders, Susan asked Lucas to excuse her and ignored his raised eyebrow as she left him to go to the women's lounge to collect her presence of mind.
He can do things like this, things that endear him to me even more, and I lose my resolve to get him out of my life. I won't cry. I won't. I swear it!
She reached for the box of tissues that rested on the marble-top counter in the lounge and put a wad of it into her mouth, dampening the impulse to give in to her feelings. Calmer now, she applied some eye drops to clear her eyes, dabbed beneath them with a tissue and went back to the man who could upset her, electrify her, and put her on the defensive as no one else could. He stood when she returned to the table and walked around it to seat her. She would have preferred to seat herself without any assistance, but if she had so much as hinted at that, she would have incurred his annoyance.