Married in Seattle

by Debbie Macomber

  She blinked rapidly in an effort to forestall more tears. “I trust you,” she told him, and she knew instinctively that Steve would never betray his wife or walk away from his family.

  “You do trust me,” he said, “otherwise you wouldn’t have let me get this close to you. Just be warned. I intend to get a whole lot closer, and soon.”

  With anyone else Meg would have felt threatened, but with Steve it felt like a promise. A promise she wanted him to fulfill.

  “It’s better that we wait to make love,” he surprised her by adding.

  “It is?” Her head shot up.

  “I want to clear the air with Lindsey first,” he told her. “Get things settled between us. I’d much rather be her friend than her foe.”

  “And I’d like to be Nancy’s friend, too,” Meg said.

  He smiled. “Those girls don’t know what they started—or where it’s going to end.”

  “Exactly where are we going?” Lindsey asked, staring out the car window.

  “I already told you.” Meg was losing patience with her daughter.

  “To see Steve at work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Work release, you mean.”

  “Lindsey!” Meg said emphatically. She’d never known her to be this difficult. “Steve has his own business. We both thought if you could see him at work, you’d know that what he told you about being an ex-con was all a farce.”

  Lindsey remained sullen for several minutes, then asked, “Why’d he say all those things if they weren’t true?”

  Her daughter had a valid point, but they’d gone over this same ground a dozen times. “We wanted you to dislike him.”

  Unfortunately Steve’s plan had worked all too well. And Meg had obviously done an equally good job with Nancy, because his sister didn’t want him continuing to see her, either. What a mess they’d created.

  “Why wouldn’t you and Steve want me to like him?” Lindsey asked.

  “I’ve already explained, and I don’t feel like repeating the story yet again,” Meg said. “Suffice it to say I’m not especially proud of our behavior.”

  Lindsey pouted, but didn’t ask any more questions.

  Meg pulled into the parking lot at Steve’s business and watched as Lindsey took in everything—the well-established body shop, the customers, the neat surroundings.

  There were three large bays all filled with vehicles in various states of disrepair. Men dressed in blue-striped coveralls worked on the cars.

  “They all look like they came straight from a prison yard,” Lindsey mumbled under her breath.

  “Lindsey,” Meg pleaded, wanting this meeting to go well. “At least give Steve a chance.”

  “I did once, and according to you he lied.”

  Once more, Meg had no argument. “Just listen to him, okay?”

  “All right, but I’m not making any promises.”

  The shop smelled of paint and grease; the scents weren’t unpleasant. There was a small waiting area with a coffeepot, paper cups and several outdated magazines.

  “Hello,” Meg said to the man standing behind the counter. “I’m Meg Remington. Steve is expecting me.”

  The man studied her. “You’re Meg Remington?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t look like the Meg Remington who was in here last week.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Never mind, Gary,” Steve said, walking out from the office. He smiled warmly when he saw Meg. Lindsey sat in the waiting area, reading a two-year-old issue of Car and Driver as if it contained the answers to life’s questions.

  “Hello, Lindsey,” Steve said.

  “Hello,” she returned in starched tones.

  “Would you and your mother care to come into my office?”

  “Will we be safe?”

  A hint of a smile cracked Steve’s mouth, but otherwise he didn’t let on that her question had amused him. “I don’t think there’ll be a problem.”

  “All right, fine, since you insist.” She set aside the magazine and stood.

  Steve ushered them into the spotlessly clean office and gestured at the two chairs on the other side of his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

  They did, with Lindsey perched stiffly on the edge of hers.

  “Would you like something to drink?” he asked.

  “No, thanks.”

  Meg didn’t think she’d ever seen Lindsey less friendly. It wasn’t like her to behave like this. Presumably she thought she was protecting her mother.

  “I have a confession to make,” Steve said, after an awkward moment. He leaned back in his chair.

  “Shouldn’t you be telling this to the police?” Lindsey asked.

  “Not this time.” His eyes connected with Meg’s. She tried to tell him how sorry she was, but nothing she’d said had changed Lindsey’s attitude.

  “I did something I regret,” Steve continued undaunted. “I lied to you. And as often happens when people lie, it came back to haunt me.”

  “I’m afraid I was a party to this falsehood myself,” Meg added.

  “How do you know it’s really a lie?” Lindsey demanded of Meg. “Steve could actually be a convicted criminal. He might be sitting behind that desk, but how do we know if what he says is true?”

  Meg rolled her eyes.

  “Who are you really, Steve Conlan?” Lindsey leaned forward, planting both hands on the edge of his desk.

  “I’m exactly who I appear to be. I’m thirty-eight years old. Unmarried. I own this shop and have ten full-time employees.”

  “Can you prove it?”

  “Of course.”

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “Come in,” Steve called.

  The man who’d greeted her when she first arrived stuck his head inside the door. He smiled apologetically. “Sorry to interrupt, but Sandy Janick’s on the phone.”

  Steve frowned. “Are we working on Sandy’s vehicle?” he wanted to know. “I don’t remember seeing a work order.”

  “No, she’s that friend your sister was trying to set you up with. Remember?”

  “Tell her I’ll call her back,” Steve said without hesitating.

  Meg bristled. He’d admitted that his sister had been playing matchmaker. So Nancy had set him up with another woman. Probably one without a troublesome teenager and a bunch of emotional garbage she was dragging around from a previous marriage. Meg tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat.

  “Gary,” Steve said, stopping the other man from leaving. “Would you kindly tell Lindsey who owns this shop?”

  “Sure,” the other man said with a grin. “Mostly the IRS.”

  “I’m serious,” Steve said impatiently.

  Gary chuckled. “Last I heard it was Walter Milton at Key Bank. Oops, there goes the phone again.” He was gone an instant later.

  “Walter Milton,” Lindsey said skeptically. “So you really don’t own this business.”

  “Walter Milton’s my banker and a good friend.”

  “So is Earl Markham, your parole officer,” Lindsey snapped. “A high school friend, correct?” She shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t believe you, Mr. Conlan. If you were trying to get me to change my mind about you seeing my mother, it didn’t work.” Then turning to Meg, she said, “I wouldn’t trust him if I were you. He’s got a look about him….”

  “What look?” Meg and Steve asked simultaneously.

  “You know—a criminal look. I’m sure I’ve seen his face before, and my guess is that it was in some post office.”

  Meg ground her teeth with frustration. “Lindsey, would you please stop being so difficult?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to date a man who lies.”

  “You’re right,” Steve surprised them both by saying. “I should never have made up that ridiculous story about being a felon. I’ve learned my lesson and I won’t pull that stunt again. All I’m asking is that you give me a second chance to prove myse
lf.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Meg resisted throwing her arms in the air.

  “You know what really bothers me?” Lindsey went on. “That you’d involve my mother in this stupid scam of yours. That’s really low.”

  “I don’t blame you for being angry with me,” Steve said, before Meg could respond. “But don’t be upset with your mother—it was my idea, not hers.”

  “My mother wouldn’t stoop to anything that underhanded on her own.”

  Meg’s eyes met Steve’s and she wanted to weep with frustration.

  “I was hoping you’d find it in your heart to forgive me,” Steve said contritely, returning his attention to Lindsey. “I’d like us to be friends.”

  “Even if we were, that doesn’t mean I approve of you seeing my mother.”

  “Lindsey,” Meg began. “I—”

  “Mom, we can’t trust this guy,” Lindsey interrupted. “We know how willing he is to lie. And what about that phone call just now?” She pointed at Steve. “Another woman calls and he can hardly wait to get back to her. You saw the expression on his face.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Steve snapped. “I’m crazy about your mother. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world.”

  “Yeah, whatever. That’s what they all say.” Lindsey had perfected the world-weary tone so beloved of teenagers everywhere.

  “I’ve had enough, Lindsey,” Meg said sternly. “I think you’d better go wait in the car.”

  Lindsey leapt eagerly out of her chair and rushed from the office, leaving Steve and Meg alone.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, standing.

  “I’ll try to talk to her again.” Steve walked around the desk and pulled her into his arms. “All she needs is a little time. Eventually she’ll learn to trust me.” He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles. “But one thing’s for sure….”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m through with sneaking around meeting you. I’m taking you to dinner tonight and I’m coming to the front door. Lindsey will just have to accept that we’re dating. In fact, I’ll ask her if she’d like to join us.”

  “She won’t,” Meg said with certainty.

  “I’m still going to ask. She may not like me now, but in time I’ll win her heart, just the way I intend to win her mother’s.”

  What Steve didn’t seem to understand was that he’d already won hers.

  At seven that night, Meg was humming softly to herself and dabbing perfume on her wrists. Steve was due any minute.

  The telephone rang, but Meg didn’t bother to answer. There was no point. The call was almost guaranteed to be for Lindsey. She heard the girl racing at breakneck speed for the phone, as if reaching it before the second ring was some kind of personal goal.

  “Mom!” Lindsey screeched from the kitchen downstairs, reaching her in the master bath.

  “I’ll be right there,” she called back, checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror one last time.

  Lindsey yelled something else that Meg couldn’t hear.

  “Who is it?” Meg asked, coming out of her bedroom and hurrying downstairs.

  “I already told you it’s Steve,” Lindsey said indifferently as she passed her leaving the kitchen.

  Meg glanced at her watch and reached for the phone. “Hello.”

  “Hi,” he said, sounding discouraged. “I ran into a problem and it looks like I’m going to be late.”

  “What kind of problem?” It was already later than her normal dinnertime, and Meg was hungry.

  “I’m not sure yet. Sandy Janick phoned and apparently she’s got a flat tire….”

  “Listen,” Meg said with feigned cheerfulness, “why don’t we cancel dinner for this evening? It sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “I’m hungry right now. It’s no big deal—we’ll have dinner another night.”

  Steve hesitated. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” She was trembling so badly it was difficult to remain standing. Steve and Sandy. She suspected Nancy had arranged the flat tire, but if Steve couldn’t see through that, then it was obvious he didn’t want to. “It’s not a problem,” Meg insisted.

  “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

  “Sure…. That would be great.” She barely heard the rest of the conversation. He kept talking and Meg hoped she made the appropriate responses. She must have, because a couple of minutes later he hung up.

  Closing her eyes, Meg exhaled and replaced the receiver.

  “Mom?”

  Meg turned to face her daughter.

  “Is everything okay?”

  She nodded, unable to chase away the burning pain that attacked the pit of her stomach and radiated out.

  “Then how come you’re so pale?”

  “I’m fine, honey. Steve and I won’t be going out to dinner after all.” She tried to sound as if nothing was amiss, but her entire world seemed to be collapsing around her. “Why don’t we get a pizza? Do you want to call? Order whatever you want. Okay?”

  She was overreacting and knew it. If Steve was doing something underhanded, he wouldn’t tell her he was meeting Sandy Janick. He’d do the same things Dave had done. He’d lie and cheat.

  “I’m going to change my clothes,” Meg said, heading blindly for the stairs.

  She half expected Lindsey to follow her and announce that she’d been right all along, that Steve wasn’t to be trusted. But to Meg’s astonishment, her daughter said nothing.

  “I knew if anyone could help Sandy with her flat tire it would be you,” Nancy said, smiling benevolently at her older brother.

  Steve glanced at his watch, frustrated and angry with his sister—and himself. She’d done it again. She’d manipulated him into doing something he didn’t want to do. Instead of spending the evening with Meg, he’d been trapped into helping these two out of a fix.

  Leave it to his sister. Not only had Nancy and Sandy managed to get a flat, but they’d been on the Mercer Island floating bridge in the middle of rush-hour traffic. Steve had to arrange for a tow truck and then meet them at his shop. From there, they’d all ended up back at the house, and Sandy had made it clear that she was looking for a little male companionship. There was a time Steve would’ve jumped at the chance to console the attractive widow. But no longer.

  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help,” Sandy told him now. “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome.” He looked pointedly at his watch. It was just after nine, still early enough to steal away and visit Meg. Lindsey would disapprove, but that couldn’t be avoided.

  The girl was proving to be more of a problem than Steve had expected. She was downright stubborn and unwilling to give him the slightest bit of credit. Well, she was dealing with a pro, and Steve wasn’t about to give up on either of the Remington women. Not without a fight.

  “You’re leaving?” Nancy asked as Steve marched to the front door.

  “Yes,” he said. “Is that a problem?”

  “I guess not.” His sister wore a downtrodden look, as if he’d disappointed her.

  “I have to be going, too,” Sandy Janick said. “Again, thank you.”

  Steve walked her to the door and said a polite goodbye, hoping it really was goodbye. He wished her well, but wasn’t interested in becoming her knight in shining armor. Not when there was another damsel whose interest he coveted.

  He closed the door as he went to retrieve his car keys from the hall table and grab his jacket.

  Nancy got up and followed him as he prepared to leave. “Where are you going?” she asked.

  Steve glared at his sister. “What makes you think it’s any of your business?”

  “Because I have a feeling that you’re off to see that…that floozy.”

  “Floozy? What on earth have you been reading?” Shaking his head, he muttered, “Meg isn’t a floozy or a woman of ill repute or a hussy or any other silly term y
ou want to call her. She’s a single mother and a businesswoman. She owns a bookstore. She—”

  “That’s not what she told me.”

  “Listen. I’m thirty-eight years old and I won’t have my little sister running my love life. Now, I helped you and your friend, but I had to break a dinner date with Meg to do it.”

  “Then I’m glad Sandy got that flat tire,” she said defiantly.

  Steve had had enough. “Stay out of my life, Nancy. I’m warning you.”

  His sister raised her head dramatically, as if she’d come to some momentous decision. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’m really sorry, Steve.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t?”

  “I can’t stand idly by and watch the brother I’ve always loved and admired make a complete fool of himself. Especially over a woman like that.”

  Steve’s patience was gone. Vanished. But before he could say a word, Nancy threw herself in front of him.

  “I won’t let you do this!” she said, stretching her arms across the door.

  The phone rang just then, and Steve knew he’d been saved by the bell. Nancy flew across the room to answer it.

  Hoping to make a clean getaway, Steve opened the door and dashed outside. As he’d suspected, Nancy tore out after him.

  “It’s for you,” she called from the front porch.

  Steve was already in his car and he wasn’t going to be waylaid by his sister a second time.

  “Tell whoever it is I’ll call back.”

  “It’s a woman.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Lindsey,” she called at the top of her voice. “And she wants to talk to you.”

  Eight

  The last person Steve expected to hear from was Meg’s standoffish teenage daughter. He climbed out of his car and ran up the porch steps. He walked directly past his sister and without saying a word went straight to the phone.

  “Lindsey? What’s the problem?” he asked. He was in no mood for games and he wanted her to know it.

  “Are you alone?” Lindsey asked him.

  Steve noticed that her voice was lower than usual. He assumed that meant Meg wasn’t aware of her daughter’s call.