Mommy Heiress (Accidental Dads #2)

by Linda Randall Wisdom

  “I’m afraid around here you’ll only find your typical brands. Besides, caffeine restriction is strongly suggested. Just drink decaf,” he suggested, dropping into a chair.

  “Decaf has no kick to get one started in the morning,” she protested, taking the chair across from him. “All right, you may as well tell me all the bad news at once. What else am I going to have to give up?”

  “Cigarettes.”

  “I gave up smoking in high school. I hated having the smell on my clothing.”

  “Salt.”

  “No problem.” She wondered if she could find saltless pretzels at the small grocery store.

  “Alcohol.”

  “My limit is an occasional glass of wine or champagne at a party.” Cori slipped off her sandals and scooted back in the chair. She drew her legs up, sitting cross-legged.

  Ben found himself unable to keep his eyes off the tantalizing length of golden tanned bare leg. Toes polished a bright pink coral peeped out. When was the last time he had ever fixated on toes? Had he ever?

  He dragged his gaze upward. Cori’s gaze was expectant, slightly questioning, as she stared back. But it was the light of amusement in her eyes he found unnerving. As if this form of glazed attention was nothing new to her.

  “I’m not accepting all of this as well as you think I am,” she told him. “Later on, when I’m alone and my thoughts keep returning to the—” she seemed to be reluctant to say the B word “—I’ll suddenly scream with the realization that I’m responsible for a little person who would have been better off with someone else as a mother.”

  “There are alternatives,” he muttered, even hating to say the words.

  “Not as far as I’m concerned,” she said firmly. “For some insane reason those chromosomes came together in my body because they felt I needed to have a child at this time in my life. Let’s just hope I don’t botch it up the way I’ve been botching up jobs.”

  “I wouldn’t say you’ve botched them up.” He searched his mind for the right description, but everything that came up was found wanting.

  Cori shrugged. “I would.”

  “What kinds of jobs did you have while you were in college?” He threw up his hands at the look of disbelief directed his way. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking of.”

  She bestowed on him a sweet smile. “That’s all right, you didn’t know. I carried a heavy class schedule. I’ll have you know I had a very high grade point average,” she said proudly.

  “Don’t worry about tomorrow at Myrna’s. You’ll do fine. You already have champions in Jess, Zeke and Dan.”

  “Terrific, I have my own fan club.” Cori watched him with an unblinking gaze that was unnerving. “Why did you kiss me earlier?”

  Her blurted question was so sudden, it stunned him, even though by now he knew nothing about Cori should surprise him.

  “Because you looked as if you needed a kiss,” he answered simply.

  She uncoiled her body from the chair with the grace only a gold-star pupil from Madame Reshanka’s Ballet Academy would have.

  Cori bent at the waist and looped her arms around Ben’s neck. Her face was close to his, her breath warm on his skin.

  “Dr. Cooper,” she whispered, “would you mind prescribing that medication again?”

  Chapter Five

  Myrna’s Diner

  “Now, darlin’, you tell Ralph I want my hash browns fixed the usual way with the bacon piled on top of them.” Zeke waved his finger at Cori as she stood before him, order pad in hand. “And I like my eggs real runny. Ralph knows that, but I want you to make sure he does ‘em right. He’s got to ladle the grease over them, too.”

  “Mr. Corrigan—”

  “Zeke, honey.”

  She nodded. “Zeke, do you realize how much fat and cholesterol you’re consuming in this one meal? You’re shortening your life by years! And runny eggs? They should be fully cooked to kill any bacteria. If I were you, I’d have a nice bowl of oatmeal and some fresh fruit.”

  Zeke leaned across the table. “Sweetheart, I’m seventy-two and I’ve eaten Ralph’s breakfasts since my Edna died four years ago. My body ain’t complainin’, so don’t you worry, neither.”

  Cori winced at the double negative as she turned to Dan, waiting for his order, which was identical except for a request for ham instead of bacon. “I really wish you gentlemen would think about your diets,” she murmured.

  “You kids think too much about what you eat and too little about how to enjoy it,” Dan told her as she turned away.

  Cori yelped as a heavy hand connected with her backside. She spun around, staring at the men with blazing eyes. Zeke, Dan and their other two cronies all grinned, daring her to figure out the guilty party.

  “Just remember who refills your coffee cups.” This time she was more cautious when she left the table.

  “That’s telling them,” Charlotte congratulated Cori as she gave Ralph the order. “I tell you, the older these men get the more they get like little boys. Those four are about the worst in town. Unless you count…” Her voice drifted off and her expression sobered as another customer walked in. “I’ll take this one for you.”

  Cori looked over her shoulder and saw a man who could have doubled as a mountain in a dark blue suit seat himself at the counter.

  “Hey, Pudge!” One of the town’s silver-haired marauders, as Cori was coming to privately call them, shouted, “What’s wrong? No one to harass today?” The four men chuckled.

  The man settled for a scowl before turning back to the coffee cup Charlotte set in front of him.

  “Hear you got new help in here.” His eyes tracked Cori with sharp scrutiny. “Considerin’ how careful you are about your girls, I’m surprised you’d hire her.”

  “She’s a friend of the doc’s,” Charlotte explained. “And good people.”

  “Yeah, well, my Marla’s good people, too, but you wouldn’t hire her. Yet you’ll take on this little California blonde here. You know what they’re like out there. Hot tubs. Orgies.” His upper lip curled. “No morals at all.”

  Cori clenched her teeth as she carried a plate over to one of the other tables. It was bad enough everyone could hear him.

  “Is that what you do, honey? Splash around in a hot tub out there in Hollywood? You wear clothes in those fancy hot tubs, honey?”

  Cori walked over to the man with head held high, shoulders back. Posture was always something she excelled in. “You know, most people can call me honey and sweetheart and I don’t mind hearing it one bit. And if they want to give me a bad time about where I come from, that’s all right, too,” she said conversationally, “but I’ve changed my mind. I don’t like hearing it from you.”

  Beady eyes the color of faded chambray looked at her as if they could see through her bright turquoise tank dress. Her leather flats and jaunty-looking silk visor matched the bright pink scarf that doubled as a belt. She had chosen it today with the idea of showing off her waist as long as she had one. Not to mention the bright color was definitely cheerful, and after crawling out of bed and losing all her breakfast twice, she needed all the good cheer she could get. When she had walked into Myrna’s at six, Charlotte had taken one look at her and made her sit down long enough to down two slices of dry toast, some juice and a glass of milk. Once assured her stomach was back to normal again, Cori let Charlotte show her the ropes.

  Luckily, her first customers hadn’t been Dan and Zeke. By the time they ambled in for breakfast and talk, she felt as if she were an old hand at shuttling filled plates to the customers and refilling coffee cups with ease. Her confidence had grown by leaps and bounds. She had found something she excelled in. Until this Neanderthal clumped in and ruined her day.

  The man merely grinned and spat out something obscene.

  Cori’s smile didn’t waver. “You really need to learn some manners,” she commented. “Not to mention, you emit the most atrocious smell. Perhaps you forgot your morning shower. No problem. I can he
lp with that.” She picked up the nearest pitcher and spilled water over his head.

  Pudge’s shocked bellow was punctuated by chuckles and snickers from the other diners.

  “Feel better?” Cori sweetly asked.

  From the kitchen, Ralph stared out at the scene with disbelief. “She’s gone and done it now.”

  Charlotte’s mouth dropped open. For once, words escaped her. “Oh, my,” was all she could finally manage.

  “You little bitch!” Pudge climbed off the seat and advanced on Cori.

  But she refused to back down as she brandished the heavy glass pitcher. “Don’t even think about it, buster. I know how to protect myself.”

  The war was on.

  *

  “GUESS WHAT?”

  Ben looked up. The expression on his nurse’s face said it all. If he hadn’t been with ancient Mrs. Weatherby, he would have muttered the mother of all curses.

  “Cori.”

  Ella nodded. “It seems she dumped ice water over Pudge Mason’s head, then threatened to bean that nasty noggin of his with the pitcher.”

  Ben couldn’t help it. The curse just slipped out.

  “Benjamin!” Mrs. Weatherby fixed him with the same look that had kept him in hand when he was in her fifth-grade class. “You know I do not appreciate that language from any of my boys.”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Weatherby,” he muttered.

  The elderly lady’s faded eyes twinkled. “But it’s understandable you forgot yourself when we’re talkin’ about that nasty ole Pudge. You better go over and make sure that little girl is all right. You know how he gets when he’s riled. The boy never did learn how to handle that temper of his. I kept him after class countless times, but it never mattered. He only misbehaved again the next day.”

  “Great,” Ben muttered, almost running down the street.

  “Heard that girl of yours went after Pudge,” Vivian commented from the open doorway to her dress shop.

  “I heard she shot him!” one of her customers exclaimed.

  Ben mumbled around a smile he didn’t feel like giving.

  “What happened to the nice sane life I used to have?” he asked no one in particular.

  He rushed inside the restaurant and found himself falling backward as his shoes slipped in a puddle of water.

  The scene that greeted Ben was even worse than the other two. A red-faced Pudge loomed over Cori as if engaged in a battle of wits. Considering the combatants, he figured the man was losing. She looked about as cool and collected as anyone could when a man with the proportion of an army tank was trying to threaten one with his size. Ben only had to look at her face to know Pudge’s idea of intimidation wasn’t working.

  “You are, without a doubt, the most arrogant, disgusting, demeaning human being who doesn’t even deserve that description,” Cori coolly stated, looking down her nose at him. Which wasn’t all that easy since he was a good seven inches taller than her. Somehow Cori managed it with style.

  “And you are a slut.”

  She narrowed her eyes, clearly prepared to wage war with a vengeance. “You belong in the Neanderthal period.”

  “You probably do drugs.”

  Cori crossed her arms in front of her. Her posture was ramrod straight, her foot tapping a merry beat on the tile floor.

  “Restaurants carry a right to refuse service,” she reminded him.

  “No one would dare do that to me,” he said smugly, looking around, as if daring anyone to argue with him.

  “Morning, Pudge.” Ben thought it was time to step in. He purposely didn’t look at Cori as he walked up to the man. “How’re you doing?”

  “I was doing better until I was attacked by this insane waitress,” he snarled. “I’ll be pressing charges.”

  “For what? Pouring water on you couldn’t be considered assault with a deadly weapon unless the water happened to come from a toxic waste dump,” she countered. Her upper lip curled. “What a shame I couldn’t find one.”

  “Cori,” Ben said in a low voice. “Not a good idea.”

  “The man insulted me and verbally attacked me.” She turned her ire on Ben. “No one gets away with that.”

  “You better tell her who I am, Ben,” Pudge told him, glaring at Ralph, Charlotte and the other patrons before spearing Cori with a deadly stare. “I don’t put up with the kind of crap she’s dishing out.” He pushed himself off the stool and lumbered his way to the door.

  “What in hell happened?” Ben demanded the moment Pudge was gone.

  “He was rude,” Cori stated. “I don’t care what he says, he deserved getting that pitcher of water dumped on him.”

  “You missed a real sight, Benny boy.” Zeke cackled. “This gal cooled ole Pudge off real fast.”

  Ben groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Why did you have to do it to Pudge?”

  Cori was confused by his question. “Because the slime deserved it!” She looked around to get the others’ reactions. “You all heard him. He made statements that can be considered sexual harassment.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Dan replied. “But I can say that Pudge did say some pretty raw things to the girl,” he told Ben. “I’m surprised Pudge went outta here as calm as he did.”

  “Calm?” Cori threw up her hands. “You all act as if he could put me in jail.”

  “He could, Cori,” Charlotte was the one to tell her. “Pudge has a mean streak and a lot of power in this town. He could put you in jail.”

  “Are you saying he’s a cop? Is this how bad off your town is? That you have to put up with someone like him?“

  “He’s not the sheriff, Cori, he’s the district attorney.”

  A wave of cold passed through Cori’s body. “District attorney?” she parroted, blindly reaching behind her for a chair. She dropped onto it in an ungraceful heap. “A district attorney is a lawyer with the county, isn’t he?” Heads bobbed up and down in agreement. “And he would be mean enough to have me arrested.” Again, they nodded. She looked at Ben. “I blew it again, didn’t I?”

  His nod was a great deal more solemn.

  Cori blinked furiously. “But he was disgusting.”

  “That’s just the way Pudge is,” Charlotte explained. “We’ve grown to ignore him over the years.”

  Her chin wobbled. “But he called me a slut.”

  Ben closed his eyes. He knew Pudge was a sleaze, but he had no idea he would deliberately insult a woman he didn’t even know.

  “Pudge likes to tromp on people before they tromp on him,” he muttered. “Come on, Cori.” He cast Charlotte an apologetic look.

  “But I haven’t finished my shift yet,” Cori protested.

  “Honey—” Charlotte clamped her lips shut. But the sad look in her eyes said it all.

  Cori was stunned. “Do you allow your customers to come in and say those things to your waitresses?”

  “Pudge can.”

  “But it’s not right.” She dug in her heels.

  Ben tightened his grip on her hand and pulled harder. “Come on, Cori.”

  Her eyes blazed deep navy fires. “No.”

  He could feel a burning sensation deep down in his stomach. He feared a few days’ exposure to Cori was giving him an ulcer. He kept his grip on her hand as he turned back around. He leaned down, putting his face next to hers.

  “Cori, do not make a scene,” he said between clenched teeth.

  “I am not going to leave here without having my say,” she whispered fiercely.

  “Yes, you are, because I think you’ve said more than enough.” He yanked on her hand. He was stunned when she didn’t budge an inch.

  Cori freed her hand and turned back to the waiting audience. She swept her arm across in a dramatic gesture.

  “A person who allows another person to rule them by intimidation doesn’t deserve to call themselves a human being,” she declared in ringing tones.

  “Oh, hell,” Ben muttered. He stepped forward, bent down and picked up Cori, flippi
ng her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Goodbye, all,” he shouted over her screams of outrage.

  “You bastard, put me down!” she yelled, pounding her fists against his back.

  “Not yet.”

  “You can’t carry me all the way back!”

  “Oh, yes, I can,” he stated, nodding pleasantly at each and every person he met along the way.

  “How come a refugee from the Cro-Magnon period can say horrible things to me and get away with it,” she shrieked, “but if I deliver one little protest I’m punished?”

  He shook his head. “Honey, you’re getting off easy.”

  “I’ll go to the public defender! He’ll see what an atrocity of justice this man is.”

  “That’s Yale Pearson and he’s as scared of Pudge as everyone else is.”

  “Just like you?” she jeered, pummeling his back with her fists.

  “Sorry, but I’m very secure with my inner self,” he quipped.

  Before she had a chance to utter a comeback, whispered voices reached her ears.

  “There’s that girl living in Doc’s cottage! I wonder what she did now.”

  It was followed by another comment from a group of shoppers on the corner.

  “Did you hear she poured some horrible concoction on Thalia’s head and turned it purple?”

  “I heard it was green.”

  “I heard that she tried to perm her hair and burned it all off!”

  “Don’t forget she also attacked Elliott.”

  “You heard that, too? Maybe she needs psychiatric help.”

  Cori moaned as the comments flowed fast and furious around her. “Do something,” she shouted at Ben.

  “They’ll talk no matter what. Don’t worry. Eventually, the real story will get out. Thing is, they don’t feel it’s as interesting as what they’re coming up with now.”

  Cori was grateful when Ben approached the clinic. But she couldn’t help remembering the last time they walked down this path. He had kissed her then. This time, he held her like a sack of oatmeal.