The Good Provider

by Debra Salonen

  “Oh, jeez,” Miranda said, groaning. “Dad was right. You can’t do anything right. Now, we won’t get to see Great-Grandpa for another day.”

  Her daughter’s criticism stung, but Daria ignored it. She’d put off making this decision for too long and now she was going to have to pay the price. “Turn off the DVD player, Miranda,” Daria said. “The pilots will need to be able to communicate with the airport control tower. All electronic devices, remember?”

  She didn’t know for certain that included portable movie players, but she’d flown enough to know the drill. So did her daughter, who groused but complied.

  Once back in her seat, Daria let out a halting sigh. She’d done well to keep her emotions under control to this point, and she wouldn’t give in to tears now—even though William’s and Shane’s generosity had created a lump the size of Kansas in her throat. Kindness and compassion hadn’t been a part of her life for a long time, and she vowed to pay it forward as soon as she had the wherewithal to do so.

  She didn’t dare look too far ahead. Life was going to get tougher over the next few weeks and months, and her main goal was to protect the two sweet, fragile souls she loved more than life.

  Would she ever be brave enough to risk falling in love again? Maybe. If, by then, she’d figured out what real love was supposed to be. At least now, she knew what it wasn’t. Love was not abject control over another person.

  And if it turned out that she was some sort of magnet for controlling men who needed to dominate her to feel good about themselves…well, forget it. She’d rather be single for the rest of her life.

  As depressing as that sounded, a part of her brain couldn’t quite let go of that funny flutter in her chest that happened every time she was in William Hughes’s presence.

  I might never marry again, she thought. But I could take a lover. When the girls are older and off at college. Maybe one with an English accent.

  She closed her eyes and tucked the dream in a small, dark corner of her mind. Dreams were a luxury a divorced mother of two could not afford. She’d do well to remember that. Once she had her feet on the ground, they needed to stay firmly planted because, like the big bad wolf, Bruce would huff and puff and try to blow her back into the controlling net of his world, his family.

  Fighting Bruce, fighting for her daughters would take all of her focus. So no more fantasizing about handsome, inscrutable Englishmen. Period.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “GOOD CALL on Durango,” William told his copilot. “The only thing I know about western Colorado is its ski resorts, and I don’t think that’s something that would interest our passengers.”

  “Yeah,” Lucas said, his gaze never leaving the runway that was barely visible in the distance. “Durango’s a college town, but it’s pretty low-key. I haven’t been back for a while. Like I told you earlier, my aunt lives there—I’ll stay at her place tonight, if that’s okay.”

  “Fine with me. Do you know if there’s a car rental at the airport?”

  They discussed the logistics of their destination for a few minutes more, then William keyed the intercom to inform Daria and her daughters to prepare for landing.

  He knew she was worried about the cost of this trip, but he didn’t quite know how to reassure her that the expense would be absorbed by their corporation without sounding like a pompous ass. Pride was a delicate factor that he constantly had to keep in mind when negotiating deals for his clients. If one actress discovered that someone had received orchids in his or her trailer and he or she had only gotten roses, feelings would be hurt and there would be hell to pay. Maybe he should call Libby and ask her to explain the financial end of this arrangement to Daria.

  Bloody coward.

  “We’ll be landing in under five, Daria,” he said. “Lucas is coming back to make sure everything is secure.”

  Lucas glanced at him in surprise.

  “Seat belts. Everything neat and tidy. You know the drill.”

  The young man didn’t hesitate, even though William had made a point of handling all the passenger interaction himself thus far. William needed to keep the goal of this mission clear in his mind. He was providing a service for a woman in need. That was all. The fact that they had several hours to kill in a strange town didn’t mean he had to get too friendly.

  “CAN I SIT on your lap?”

  “I beg your pardon?” William asked the little girl who was tucked in tightly beside him. They were riding in the backseat of the taxi Lucas had procured for them after they’d landed and parked the plane.

  “I wanna see the snow. Our snow is way up in the mountains.”

  “You can sit on my lap, honey,” Daria said, reaching across Miranda.

  “No,” Hailey protested. “You’re too lumpy.” William glanced at Daria, who was holding all three backpacks at her feet and on her lap.

  “You’re supposed to wear a seat belt,” Miranda said, grouchily. William still didn’t have an accurate read on the girl, who was flirtatious one minute and bite-your-fingers snappy the next. She reminded him of a parrot his uncle once had.

  “We’re going slow and there isn’t much traffic,” William said, patting the tops of his knees. “Hop aboard.”

  “Thank you, Mr. William. I like you. Are you our uncle?” Hailey Fontina was as precious and precocious as a young Shirley Temple.

  “Of course not, dummy. We just met him for the first time this morning at the airport. Don’t you think Mom or Dad would have mentioned an Uncle William who flies his own plane, if he were related to us?”

  “Language,” Daria cautioned softly. “We all speak. None of us is dumb.”

  Hailey happily scrambled across his legs to sit with her knees brushing the door panel. He leaned forward and depressed the lock button. “A girl can wish, can’t she?” Hailey responded, pressing her face against the glass as she had at the window of the plane.

  William’s resolve to keep his distance melted like a chocolate bar in the hands of a toddler. “Your daughters could both have careers in Hollywood, if you were so inclined. Brains, beauty and the it factor. In spades.”

  Daria’s eyes opened wide when both girls looked at her excitedly. “Oh, there’s an idea. Your father would have a warrant out for my arrest faster than you could bribe a judge.” She shook her head, grinning at Lucas who’d let out a loud hoot from the front passenger seat.

  William regretted his candor. He’d momentarily forgotten who he was dealing with—not a stage mom who would sell her child’s soul for a big break, but a mother who would give up everything she had for the sake of her children.

  “This the place?” the taxi driver asked, slowing to turn into the lot of a two-story chain motel that had two suites available when William had called.

  “That’s the one,” he said, leaning forward to see the meter. “Sorry, love, I need to move you so I can pay the man.”

  “Can I do it?” Hailey asked, her hand out.

  “What a suck-up,” Miranda said, her tone betraying that she was mad at herself for not taking the initiative before her sister beat her to the punch.

  “Am not,” Hailey returned, big crystal tears forming in her eyes.

  “I will pay the fare. You are both in charge of tipping. As soon as we get out. Agreed?”

  “Okay,” Miranda said, sitting up tall. Hailey’s chin barely left her chest, but he took the slight head bobbing as a yes.

  A few minutes later, William watched with some satisfaction as the two worked together to charm a smile out of their mostly silent driver. “Thank you kindly, girls. Have a good stay,” he called once Hailey and Miranda were standing safely under the tall, open portcullis.

  William picked up his bag and two others, only half listening to the sisters talk.

  “He was nice,” Hailey said.

  “Dad wouldn’t have given him that much,” her sister replied.

  “Why not?”

  “Because of his turban.”

  “Daddy doesn’t like turb
ans?” Hailey asked. “I do. They remind me of Aladdin.” Hailey looked up to find William watching them. “I know the words to the song from the movie by heart. Want me to sing it for you?”

  He couldn’t think of anything he’d rather hear, but her mother intervened. “No singing. Not right now. It’s freezing. Come on, slowpokes. Let’s get inside.”

  Since there were no other guests in the lobby, William was able to get them registered in a matter of minutes. He handed Daria the small envelope that contained her plastic key. “Room 242,” he said. He pointed toward the elevator. “Second floor, turn right. You can go on up if you like. I’m going to coordinate a time to meet in the morning with Lucas.”

  His copilot was standing near the door, cell phone to his ear. He ended the call when he spotted William. “My aunt’s pretty excited to see me. She only lives a couple of blocks from here. I offered to walk, but she said she was just leaving to pick up my uncle from work, so she’d stop here first.”

  William was glad the unplanned stop was working out well for someone. “Shall we meet in the morning for breakfast? I noticed a restaurant across the way.”

  They were still deciding on the best hour to leave when a bright red Jeep with oversize tires pulled up. “There’s my aunt,” Lucas said, heading for the door. “I’ll call you in the morning around seven.”

  William made his way up in the elevator, fingering the plastic key card as he walked to his room. Right beside Daria’s, he realized when Daria and Miranda suddenly stepped into the hallway. “Do you know which way the ice machine is?” Daria asked.

  “Directly across from the elevator,” he said. “I noticed it when I got off.”

  Miranda spun around and charged down the hallway without waiting for her mother’s okay. Daria sighed. “Everything is a power struggle with her. Not surprising, I guess. She learned from a pro, but still…”

  William pushed open his door but didn’t walk inside. “Is your room adequate?”

  She seemed surprised by his question. “It’s perfect. There’s even a microwave. The girls are going to make popcorn and watch a movie. We don’t have cable at home, so they’re in hog heaven.”

  Hog heaven. The phrase made him smile. He might have argued that putting a couch in a too-small room and adding a microwave and noisy minirefrigerator did not a suite make, but he kept his opinion to himself.

  A loud, clinking sound from the far end of the hallway told them Miranda had found the machine and was accomplishing her task. Daria brushed back a lock of hair from her face and said, “By the way, I wanted to apologize for jumping all over your lovely compliment about the girls being marketable in Hollywood. I really need to stop responding to every comment by worrying about what Bruce would say. Old habits, you know.”

  “Nothing to apologize for. It simply struck me that both embody an innocence and grace that Hollywood would jump at the chance to exploit. You are wise to avoid going that route, regardless of the reason behind your decision.”

  “Mom,” Miranda called, poking her head around the corner. “The juices are only a dollar. Can’t we each get one, instead of sharing?”

  Hailey burst out of the room, brushing past her mother’s legs like a small animal breaking from the bush. “Yeah, Mommy, can we? I want grape.”

  “I want cran-apple,” Miranda yelled.

  Daria fished a crumpled bill from her front pocket. “Okay, but that’s it for the day. Water with dinner. Don’t ask for anything else. Got it?”

  When they were alone again, William asked the question he had no business asking. “Did you get hold of their father?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet. Ever since we split up, I’ve made every effort to keep personal calls between me and Bruce…um, personal. I won’t talk divorce stuff in front of the girls. It’s not always easy, but…”

  His respect for her grew. “If you’d like me to watch after your daughters while you take a walk, I’d be happy to.”

  She looked down. “You’ve already done so much. I don’t want to impose any more.”

  “Mine’s bigger than yours,” Hailey said, skipping ahead of her sister.

  “That’s because yours has white grapes and high-fructose corn syrup in it. Mine is pure juice. So there,” Miranda responded, juggling both a plastic bottle and an ice bucket filled to the brim. “Hi, William.”

  He was glad to see they were friends again. “Hi, Miranda. Might I ask you something?”

  She paused beside her mother. The resemblance was striking, although Miranda’s coloring was much darker, reflecting her Italian heritage. “What?”

  “Would you and your sister be up for a walk in a few minutes? I thought we might scout around the area to pick a place to have dinner. Your mum said you were going to watch a movie, but I have no idea what you prefer to eat so…”

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll go. And Hailey’s dying to play in the snow. Is that okay, Mom?”

  Daria hesitated. He could tell she was reluctant to let the girls out of her sight, and yet they both knew Daria needed a little alone time. “The fresh air would do you good. I’ll call your dad and let him know what’s going on.” She glanced at her watch. “But don’t pick any place too expensive, okay?”

  “Give me ten to check my messages,” William said, turning to leave. He had his own prerequisites for a restaurant, and price wasn’t on the list. But given the fact she’d agreed to entrust him with her daughters, he’d do what he’d offered and let the girls pick the place.

  He had a feeling Daria wasn’t going to have much of an appetite once she got off the phone with her ex.

  EXCEPT FOR THE BLINDING HEADACHE, which was slowly subsiding, dinner had turned out to be a rather pleasant interlude, Daria thought to herself a few hours later.

  The pizza joint was festive, noisy and anonymous. She liked that. For a few moments, she could pretend her life was normal—that the charming man across from her was something other than her conduit to safety, and that she wasn’t mid-jump between the frying pan and the fire.

  “I believe I saw an arcade in the enclave across the room, if anyone’s interested,” William said, magically producing two stacks of tokens and placing one in front of each girl.

  “Cool,” Miranda cried.

  “Yeah, cool,” Hailey echoed. “Can we, Mom?”

  Daria smiled her okay, but the minute they were gone, she looked at William and asked, “Where did you get the tokens?”

  “I bought them when I paid for the pizza. I was hoping to linger over this fine wine with a tiny bit less chatter.” He held up a hand. “Not that your daughters aren’t delightful. They’re most charming and very easy company, considering their ages. But I can only handle so much talk about teen pop stars.”

  Daria laughed for the first time in what felt like eons. “Me, too. Thank you.” She took a sip of wine. “I seem to be saying that an awful lot.”

  He emptied the carafe, topping off each of their glasses. She knew that this sort of wine was not his usual fare, but he’d been a good sport about the kid-friendly place. “Then, let’s make a deal,” he said, lifting his glass to hers. “Gratitude extended and accepted. End of story.”

  She lightly clinked her glass to his, knowing the challenge would be next to impossible to meet. She was thankful—more than he could ever know. Her phone conversation with Bruce had been the most vicious to date. She was beginning to think something else was going on with him—business pressures from his brothers or party pressures from National. Who knew? But he seemed very close to the breaking point.

  “Tell me about your life. How long were you married?”

  “Too long,” she said, only half joking. “During the early years, when Bruce was in business with his brothers—they own an import-export company—and was traveling all the time, we got along great. I loved being a stay-at-home mom with Miranda. The problems started when we couldn’t conceive a second child.” She shook her head. “Bruce had this image of himself as the patriarch of a big Italian
family, like his father. I had a miscarriage and, although he tried to be supportive, I truly felt as though he blamed me.”

  Now, she looked back at that as a huge red flag, but she’d minimized their difficulties at the time. In part because her mother had passed away about then, and she was dealing with grief and issues of her own.

  “We separated for six weeks. Miranda and I spent some time in Santa Barbara with my dad after my mother died. I was seriously thinking about moving there, until Bruce showed up, tearful, sincere, begging for a second chance. His brother was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. Doctors gave him six months. The family decided to back Bruce to fill his brother’s seat in the legislature.”

  She could still remember his pleas. “I can’t do this without you, Daria,” he’d begged. “I need my family behind me. Please. Please, come back. I promise to do better.”

  If only Dad hadn’t found someone to replace Mom so fast, Daria thought, not for the first time. Bitterness and confusion were two things that didn’t facilitate clear thinking. “I succumbed to pressure from both families. And Miranda, too. She loves her father, and she missed her cousins and friends. I gave it a second try. Hailey came along a year later, and Bruce was elected, fair and square, to his own term. He didn’t have to stand in his brother’s shadow anymore.”

  “So, when the legislature is in session, he lives in Sacramento?”

  “Yes. Those three hundred miles are probably the only reason I’ve stayed married as long as I have. Once he left for the week, I could pretend I was a single mother…more or less. Shocking, huh?”

  He shook his head. “Not to me. My parents have lived separately for most of their married lives.”

  “Really? You’re not just saying that to be nice?”

  He took another drink of wine then shook his head. She really liked his hair. It seemed determined not to look as neat and fastidious as he wanted to appear. “I’m not that creative.”

  “How did they meet? I’ve read a lot of books on relationships recently, and I’m fascinated by how much fate seems to play into things.”