She stirred her drink. “What's your pleasure?”
He regarded her with amusement for a long moment. “Whatever yours is.”
“Good answer,” Char gushed. She had a big, dumb smile on her face.
Renee rolled her eyes, already tired of her mother and sister's happy family act.
Lourdes, her parents' young, Hispanic housekeeper, slipped into the room. “Mrs. Wright,” she said quietly.
“Yes?”
“The food is ready to serve. I've carved the turkey and the pies are cooling on the counter. If there's nothing else, I thought I'd go home now.” She clasped her hands behind her back.
“Sure, hon. Go on now. Have a nice meal with your family.” Elizabeth faced her guests. “Lourdes tells me dinner is ready. Would everyone please follow me to the dining room?”
Gary Junior and Alyssa ran ahead of the adults, practically knocking Luther over. “Slow down there, kids. Renee, honey, did you see Cleave's car out front? Isn't it a beauty?” he asked.
God, was her father in on this too? “Yes, it's very nice.”
They all sat at the table, making sure Cleave was next to Renee. She felt like she was in a play where she was not only the main character, but the only one who didn't know the plot. Her dad said a sort of prayer about being thankful then they all started passing platters around and chatting.
“I hear you own a beauty salon. Do you enjoy that?” Cleave asked her.
“I do. I love most of my clients. It's great being my own boss.”
“Oh, so you actually work there? Elizabeth didn't tell me that.”
She looked at her mother, who appeared deep in conversation with Char. “I'm sure she didn’t. I think it embarrasses her.”
“Why would it? You're obviously a hard worker with a head for business.”
She glanced around the table. Gary and Luther were having a heated discussion, probably about work. Gary Junior and Alyssa were dueling with turkey wings. “I guess because she was the only daughter of a black lawyer in the days when there were so few of them. Then she married one. She never had to work a day in her life. When I didn't get married right after college, like my sister did, Mama had a fit. I really got on her shit list when I quit before law school. To her, working at a salon puts me in the same category with Lourdes—a service person. She's a bit of a snob, if you haven't figured that out.”
He shrugged. “She's been nothing but charming to me.”
That's because you're not related to her.
“By the way, I think they're trying to fix us up.”
He snickered. “I hope you're not embarrassed. I'm sure no one meant to put you on the spot.”
She touched his hand. “I'm fine. I'm enjoying your conversation much more than I would my family's, trust me.”
“Renee,” Char interrupted. “Gary and I are going on a cruise in May. Remember I told you I wanted to go to Alaska? Well, I booked it. Isn't that exciting? Mama said she'd keep the kids if you could help her a little.”
Renee glared at her mother, who rolled her eyes.
“They'll be in school or daycare five of the seven days. If you could take them on the Sunday, I can keep my sanity.”
Renee stabbed a piece of turkey with her fork in effigy. “Thanks for volunteering me, Mama.” She flared her nostrils. Great. The mere thought of babysitting her niece and nephew would give her indigestion.
“They're really easy,” Gary said. “You'll see.”
“How would you know, Gary? You're rarely home.” She regretted the comment as soon as it was out.
“Gary is a wonderful father, Renee.” Char placed her hand over her husband's.
“I'm sorry. I'm just not much good with kids,” Renee mumbled.
Elizabeth coughed. “That's because they're not your own, honey. Renee wants children, Cleave.”
“Mama, could you be any more obvious?” This was beyond humiliating. She imagined herself on an auction block.
“This one has great, wide childbearing hips,” the auctioneer would boom as he trained his pointer on her thick hips.
Elizabeth's head snapped back.
Cleave cleared his throat. “Can I get you another drink from the bar, Renee?”
“No, thanks. I'm going to take a little walk before dessert.” She pushed away from the table.
“Mind if I join you?” Cleave stood.
“That would be great. Let's go.” She stuck out her chin, ignoring her mother's scowl.
They left through the kitchen door, making their way down to the lake. Two ducks sat on the grassy shore near a wooden double swing. A third floated nearby.
“Want to swing?” she asked when they neared the lake. “I love sitting here listening to the water lap at the beach.”
“How can I refuse such an offer?”
As they sat, the swing creaked under their weight. “I guess I should apologize to Gary when we go back inside. I shouldn't have said that about him never being home. It's not true. I suppose he and Char struck a deal long ago that her job would be to raise the kids, his would be to earn a living. It seems to be working for them.”
“Gary's a great guy. He's quite devoted to your sister. True blue.”
“Yeah, he is. Sometimes he comes off a bit goofy, but he's got a heart of gold.” She turned around when she heard the backdoor slam. Gary Junior and Alyssa darted past them to the swing set across the yard.
Cleave draped his arm over the back of the seat. “So what do you like to do when you're not working at your salon?”
Gary Junior push Alyssa on a swing. He got on the one next to hers and stood up on it. “Don't fall, Gary,” she called to him. “Let's see. I love to shop. It's my all time favorite hobby.”
“Sounds expensive.”
“I’m quite the bargain hunter. But I must admit I carry a bit of debt because of it.”
“What do you like to shop for?”
“Clothes, antiques. I have a real weakness for antique furniture.”
“Really? I just bought a house. It's only a mile or so from here. I'm trying to furnish it with some antiques, but I don't know exactly what to buy. Do you think we could go antiquing sometime?”
“Sure, I'd love that. There's a big antique center about an hour north of town, near Mount Dora. Have you been?”
“No, when can we go?”
She studied his face. He wasn't bad looking. He had a gentle smile and kind eyes. Sort of attractive. For a lawyer. So her mother had set her up. She could hardly fault Cleave for that. And it wasn’t as if her dance card was all full. “How about Sunday?”
“It's a date. What's your number? I'll program you in.” He pulled his cell off his belt and hit a few buttons, waiting for her to speak.
“You're programming me in? I think you're moving way too fast for me.” She hid her grin behind her hand.
The smile disappeared from his face. He put his phone down on the seat.
“I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I'll give it to you.”
Relief softened his features. “Oh, okay.”
She told him her number.
A few minutes later they walked back to the house. The adults were still in the dining room eating pumpkin pie and drinking coffee. Elizabeth stood when they came in. “Can I get you two some of Lourdes' famous pumpkin pie? It's the best.”
Renee studied her mother to see if she was angry that they'd left the table before everyone was finished. Luckily, she saw no trace of animosity. “Sure, Mama.”
Cleave nodded.
“Gary, I'm sorry about what I said before.” She touched his shoulder as she passed.
He gave her hand a squeeze. “Don't worry about it. Did y'all have a nice walk?”
“We just went to the swing. But yeah, we had fun.” She smiled at Cleave.
After dessert, Char and Renee volunteered to clean up while the others honored the time-honored tradition of rubbing their bellies and watching college football.
“So?” Char said when they were alon
e. “What do you think?”
“About what?” Renee dried a platter her sister had just washed. “I think this is a pretty platter, don't you?”
“Renee!” Char's pink rubber-gloved hands flew to her slim hips. “You know what I'm talking about. What do you think of Cleave? It's obvious he likes you.”
“I think you're right. You know, you remind me more and more of Mama every day.” She wasn't about to tell Char anything. Knowledge is power, her father liked to say.
“You are infuriating. Why won't you tell me anything?”
“He's very nice. That's all I'm gonna say.” She loved pissing her sister off. Her sister, who had everything in the world, wasn't going to know some juicy little piece of gossip. And it would eat at her.
Char huffed, then went back to loading the dishwasher. “Gary and Dad said he'll be a full partner in a few years if he keeps doing as well as he has been.” She stopped what she was doing to turn toward her younger sister. “Wouldn't your life be easier if you married someone like Cleave and didn't have to work or anything? Wouldn't that make you happy? It does me.”
“In itself, that wouldn't make me happy.” She put the platter in the cabinet over the pantry. “I want to find someone who knocks my socks off. Someone who makes a lot of money or has some fancy car—that stuff just doesn't matter to me. Yeah, it would be great not to have women's feet in my face every day, but I like my job, most days. I guess the white picket fence thing isn't important to me like it is to you…and to Mama. At least not for right now.”
But as she said it, she wondered if that were really true. It would be nice to be taken care of, not to have to worry about things like money. God knew she wasn't any good at managing her finances.
“You're not getting any younger, you know.”
She bristled. “Thanks for pointing that out to me, sister dear.”
“I'll tell you something. This wasn't Mama's idea, or mine.” She pursed her lips and raised her brows like she was holding back the location of Jimmy Hoffa's corpse.
“Daddy?”
Char shook her head.
“Gary?”
“Nope. It was Cleave himself. Daddy said Cleave saw that picture of you he has in his office and started asking questions. Told Daddy he'd like to meet you sometime. That's how he scored this invitation.” She folded her arms, obviously pleased with herself for setting the record straight.
“Really? That's interesting. I think I'm going to head home now. You know how much I hate football.”
“Are you going out with him or anything?”
“With whom?” Her sister was too damn easy to piss off.
“Oh, you…” She balled her fists and stomped her foot, just like she had when they were kids.
“Love you.” She hurried from the kitchen and made her way to the family room where the men were sitting on the couch, leaning toward the big screen TV. Elizabeth was thumbing through the December issue of Southern Living.
“I'm leaving now.” All eyes turned toward her. “Thank you for a lovely Thanksgiving, everyone. Cleave, so nice to have met you.”
He gave her a half nod. “Same here.”
The men turned back to the game.
“Bye, honey. Thanks for all your help.” Elizabeth laid the magazine down as she stood to kiss her daughter goodbye.
“Bye, Mama. Love you.” She drove back home feeling on top of the world. This would be the first weekend in years that she'd have two dates with two different men. But what if they both turned out to be duds? What if she got herself all hyped for two great dates, but they both stood her up? When she thought about her love life, her constant companions were fear and doubt.
The men might find her boring. What if she somehow turned them off? She could trip or stumble, showing them what a klutz she really was. What if they ran out of things to say? What if she was really as much of a loser as she suspected?
Chapter Four
“Extra whipped cream on that chocolate latte,” Renee told the Starbuck’s clerk as the woman fixed her coffee. She sat at a table for two as her phone rang. “Hello?”
“Good morning. Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?” Joe asked.
She smiled as his voice seemed to caress her right through the phone line. “The usual, you know, turkey, stuffing, family, guilt.”
“I can relate. Heading out to the mall?”
“Yeah. I'm starting with a caffeine IV.”
“Don't steal anything, now.”
She huffed. “You're so not funny. How was your turkey day?”
“Good. I went to my dad and stepmom's. It was quiet, but nice. So, are we on for tonight?”
She closed her eyes, relieved he wasn't canceling. “I'm looking forward to it. What time do you want to pick me up?” She took a long sip of her coffee, unsure if it was the joe or the Joe that had caused the warmth making its way through her body.
“How's six? I have to work until four-thirty.”
“That'd be great.” This was going to require a new outfit.
At a boutique she frequented, she found a long sleeved leopard print turtleneck. A black pencil skirt completed the ensemble.
“How's that working for you, Renee?” the salesgirl called into the dressing room.
It was kind of embarrassing that she and the saleslady were on a first name basis, but it did help when she was searching for something specific. The girl even had her cell number for when new merchandise came in that she thought Renee might like. And she always held a size twelve back for her.
“I love it, Robin.” She stepped out from behind the curtain. “What do you think?”
The girl gasped. She had a flare for the dramatic. No matter what she tried on, Robin said it was fabulous. “That looks fabulous on you. Aren't you fortunate the skirt is thirty percent off today?”
“Lucky me.” She charged her new outfit, then went on a search for Christmas gifts for her family and a Hanukkah present for Becky. When she got home, she took a power nap, then a long, hot shower. In her closet she found the suede boots she'd been dying to wear for a year, but never could find the right outfit to match. Her new one was it. With a suede drawstring purse, she was ready for whatever Joe had in mind. Well, not anything although if he made the right moves it was going to take all her willpower to resist jumping straight into bed with him.
At six-ten she opened her door to find that her policeman looked even better out of uniform. “You sure clean up nice, mister.” She stepped aside to let him in.
His gaze swept over her as he walked past and wolf whistled. “Wow. You look…absolutely gorgeous.”
She could get used to this. “Would you like a drink?”
“Nah, I'm fine.” He looked around the apartment. “Where's Apple? I love cats, you know.”
“Yes, I remember. Apple…here kitty, kitty.”
The feline came running in from the bedroom.
Joe bent down to rub her head. “She's a beauty. Did you name her Apple because of her red coloring?” The cat rubbed against his legs and sniffed at him. “She must smell Law and Order.”
Or maybe you smell so good that she wants a whiff, like I do.
“I named her Apple because I got her at a bad time in my life. All my friends and my sister were getting married and I had recently broken up with a guy I thought I might marry. I saw this adorable orange and white ball of fluff in the window of a pet store and I had to have her. She helped me through that rough patch. From the first day I had her, she was the apple of my eye.” She grabbed her purse and keys. “Ready?”
“Sure.” He took a long look around the living room. “I like your apartment. You've got good taste.”
“I'm going out with you, aren't I?”
He grinned and raised an eyebrow as they headed downstairs. When he took her hand, her breath caught. Something felt so right about the way their fingers intertwined perfectly like long lost puzzle pieces.
But she stopped in her tracks when she saw the police cruiser. “Te
ll me we're not riding in that.” She glanced around the parking lot to see if anyone she knew was around. Thankfully, none of her neighbors were outside. They might think she was being arrested. Her mother would have an IBS attack for sure if she knew.
“That's my chariot. The sheriff's office gives us the car for personal use too. I have no need for another. If it makes you uncomfortable, we can take yours.”
“No…no, that's fine. I get to ride up front with you, though, don't I?”
He glanced sideways at her, flashing his dimples. “Yeah. I'll even turn on the siren if you're real good.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, that's okay.”
He drove them to a tiny restaurant in a strip center called Sebastian's. The hostess recognized Joe and called him by name. Renee wondered if she was imagining that the woman flirted with him as they made their way through the restaurant to their table.
She seated them in a booth next to the window as she flipped her hair and batted her lashes at him.
Nope, not my imagination.
But she couldn’t really blame the hostess. Joe was beyond hot.
A strolling violin player making his way toward their table. She opened her menu to quickly decide what she wanted, so when the serenader arrived, she could give him her full attention.
She gazed into Joe's eyes. “I think you made a good choice, taking me here. I like it already.”
He leaned against the padded seat back. “I knew you would.”
“How did you know that?” She raised her eyebrows.
“I can spot a romantic a mile away.”
Her stomach flipped. “I am a romantic. And obviously, you're one too. So, tell me all about yourself, Joe Morton.”
He met her gaze and the air between them sizzled with the electricity of mutual desire. “There's not much to tell. I'm a boring guy. I go to work, catch a few bad guys, help out a damsel in distress or two, then go home and watch a baseball game while I eat cold pizza.”
“Oh, come on. Where are you from? Tell me about your family.” As she asked the question, she realized her family wouldn’t approve of her dating a cop. Her mother was a snob who wasn’t even aware that she looked down upon anyone who worked a blue collar job.
Wrong Way Renee Page 6
