by Regina Duke
Vicky thought for a moment. Then, with a hint of surprise, “He did when he broke up with me, but now? No. Wow. Isn’t that funny? I thought he did, but come to think of it, no.”
“Then what is it?”
Vicky shrugged, but she couldn’t meet Madlyn’s gaze.
“Come on, out with it.” Her eyes grew big. “Are you pregnant?”
“No! No, thank goodness.” She blurted out, “My landlord called me yesterday. I’m being evicted.”
Madlyn put hot toast on a plate and set it in front of Vicky. “Well, that’s nothing. You’re here now, and you have a roof over your head for as long as you want.” She fetched butter and jam from the fridge and cocked her head at her friend. “Still no smile? So what else is going on?”
Vicky ticked items off on her fingers. “One, I missed the competition. They frown on tears all over the keys. Two, haven’t told my mother yet. I know she’ll be furious and accuse me of wasting her money on the entry fee, even though she insisted I let her pay it so I wouldn’t miss out on the chance of making the finals. Three, I have twelve dollars in my purse. Four, I have no car. Five, I hate these competitions!”
The last line came out against her will. She finished with her mouth open. “Oh, my gosh. Madlyn! What am I going to do? I love the piano, I love playing the piano, but I’ll never be a concert pianist if I can’t win a competition. Mother will never forgive me.”
Madlyn sat and buttered toast. “All right, let’s start from the beginning. You majored in music to please your mother?”
“No. I love music. It’s all I wanted to study.”
“Good. You’re trying to become a concert pianist to please your mother?”
“Yes.” Vicky slumped in her chair. “It’s what she’s always wanted. I keep hoping if I can just make it to the concert stage, she’ll finally approve of me.”
“Wow.” Madlyn spooned jam onto her toast. “I am good. I should charge money for this therapy.” She took a bite and chomped noisily.
“Oh, Madz, how am I going to tell her I didn’t even go to the finals?”
“You don’t have to tell her anything. You’re a separate human being, not an appendage.”
“But when she finds out, she’ll be furious.”
“Sounds like a good reason not to tell her, if you ask me. Besides, you can pay her back the money when you get on your feet. Eat your breakfast. Didn’t you see me slaving over a hot toaster over there?”
“Thanks, Madz. You really think I’ll be able to find a job?”
“Hello! You play a killer piano!”
“So I should keep competing?”
“No, silly. If you hate that, don’t do it. Didn’t they talk about employment options in music school?”
Vicky was taken aback. “Actually, yes, they did. I was just so focused on pleasing mother, I never considered them.”
“Well, change your mindset and change your life, that’s what I always say.”
“Really? I never heard you say that before.”
“Shut up, silly goose, I’m trying to be deep here. Eat your toast. You’re coming with me to the shop.”
“Oh, no, I have to practice. My fingers need nine hours a day on the piano. It took too long for me to reach this level to let it slide.”
“Good. Because Mina, my boss, has a piano at the shop, and you’re going to practice there.”
“Like this?” She looked down at her red turtleneck and faded jeans. Or rather, Madlyn’s red turtleneck and faded jeans.
The doorbell rang.
Madlyn got up. “You’re lucky you were saved by the bell, or I would be offended by that remark.” But she didn’t look offended at all as she headed for the front door.
Vicky wondered how she could apologize for her insensitive words as she followed her through the living room.
Madlyn opened the door. “Good Lord! Call me a doctor. I’m hallucinating. There’s a Greek god on my porch!”
CHAPTER TEN
Vicky angled to the side so she could see who was at the door.
“You!”
Jason wiggled his fingers in greeting. “Hello. I brought your suitcase.” He lifted it with one hand and set it inside the house.
“Oh. Thank you.” Vicky met Madlyn’s questioning glance and said, “Madlyn, this is Jason, Her Highness’s driver. Jason, this is Madlyn, my best friend.”
“Nice to meet you, Madlyn.” Jason smiled.
Madlyn gawked at Jason, then turned with a silent “va-va-va-voom” at Vicky before glancing at her watch. “Nice to meet you, too, Jason. I’m sorry, but I need to get moving. Mina asked me to open today, so I don’t want to be late. Vicky, maybe Jason could drop you off at the shop when you finish visiting?”
“Oh, we don’t have to visit,” said Vicky, coolly.
“Er, actually, there is something I’d like to talk to you about,” said Jason.
Madlyn grabbed her purse from the stand by the door. “Okay, then. Make yourself at home.” She headed out, stopping long enough to give Vicky a thumbs up and pantomime melting from the heat of Jason’s smile. Vicky laughed out loud. By the time Jason turned to see what she found so funny, Madlyn was trotting down the steps to her car.
“Sorry,” said Vicky. “Madlyn has kept me laughing since high school.”
Jason nodded. “It’s good to see you’re feeling better. When I dropped you off yesterday, you looked like your world had ended.”
“I felt that way, too,” said Vicky. “But I guess things will work out, somehow.”
“Are you still homeless?”
Vicky waved an arm at the comfortable living room. “Madlyn says I can stay as long as I want.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Please, sit down. You wanted to talk to me about something?”
Jason hesitated, but finally chose an overstuffed armchair and perched on the front of it. “To tell the truth, I wanted to explain why I wasn’t very sympathetic yesterday. It was obvious you were having a terrible time of things, and I was all wrapped up in myself. You see, I’d just come from my uncle’s funeral.”
Vicky felt compassion welling within. She sat on the end of the sofa. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry for your loss. And thanks for sharing. That does put things in perspective.”
“And I should correct a misperception. I’m not Her Highness’s driver. I’m her grandson.”
Vicky’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “How did you know who we were talking about?”
Jason grinned. “Because when I was a kid, that’s what all my friends called her.”
Vicky relaxed against the sofa arm. “Madlyn was probably one of them. Her mother used to work for your grandmother. That’s why she called her when she needed someone to meet me in Pueblo.”
“At least it’s all in the family,” said Jason. “And, er, frankly, that’s part of why I’m here.” He rubbed his hands together.
Vicky waited. When he didn’t speak, she said, “Go on.”
“I don’t want this to come out the wrong way, but you said in the car that you’re broke and your boyfriend is history, right?”
Vicky stiffened. “Yes.”
“Well, what if I could offer you a job? Something that would pay really well, and even give you the opportunity to show up your boyfriend?”
Vicky was wary. “What kind of a job?”
Jason pulled a fax out of his back pocket and unfolded it. “My lawyers have drawn up a preliminary agreement. The remuneration is negotiable, and so is the time frame, although I think you should expect it to last at least a year, maybe longer.”
Vicky waited for him to hand over the document, but he kept turning it over and over in his hands. She frowned. “What exactly is this job? What’s the position title?”
Jason opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again without speaking.
Vicky drew back, her brow crinkled in confusion. “You’re hiring a fisherman?”
“No. Sorry. I didn’t think this was going to be
this difficult.” He paused and tilted his head to one side. “Did you know you have beautiful hair? It didn’t look like that yesterday.”
“Thanks. I think. Yesterday it was in a French twist.”
“Oh. It has a name. Sorry. Lost my train of thought.”
“Hair,” said Vicky, feeling flattered and embarrassed at the same time. “If it makes you feel any better, you have great hair, too. I—” She bit off the rest of it. No need to tell him she wanted to run her fingers through his gorgeous mane.
Instead she changed the subject. “Were you close to your uncle?”
“Hmm? Oh yes. He was like a father to me. After my parents died, my grandmother sent me to boarding school in California and my aunt and uncle moved to San Rafael to be close to me. He was semi-retired because he had multiple sclerosis, but he volunteered as a coach for my school for as long as he could.”
“He sounds like a wonderful man.” Vicky gazed wistfully over Jason’s head. “I never knew my father. My mother married my stepfather when I was three.” She shrugged, as if that was all there was to her story.
“Uncle Jerry was the best.” Jason fell silent. He studied the back of one hand.
Vicky broke the silence. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I? Let me start again.” He began by biting his bottom lip and trying to find somewhere to settle his gaze.
Vicky turned a hand over. “You were about to offer me a job.”
“Yes.”
“Doing what? Because I could certainly use one.”
Jason blurted, “I need a wife or my grandmother’s going to choose a different heir.”
Vicky sat dumbstruck and stared at him.
“Sorry,” said Jason. “It sounds terrible when I put it like that. I—”
Vicky raised a palm. “I think you should leave now.”
“But I need to explain.”
“No, I don’t think so. You figure you can compliment my hair and expect me to hop into bed with you? I’m broke, so you assume I’ll sell my body for money? Go. Get out, before I throw something.”
“I swear to you, that’s not what this is about. I’m not explaining myself very well. You don’t have to—”
Vicky stood up and strode to the door. She held it open. “Out.”
“At least let me leave this fax. You can go over it at your leisure. I’m trying to make a business deal.”
“Oh, yes, I understand. Too bad for you, I’m not in the business you think I’m in.” She waved an arm at the open door. “Goodbye.”
Jason lay the fax on the coffee table. “If you change your mind, just call me. My number is on the paper. I need to act fast to save my inheritance, but I’ll wait twenty-four hours before looking elsewhere. It’s not for me. The inheritance, I mean. I’m trying to—”
“I am counting down,” said Vicky coldly. “When I get to one, I’m calling the police. Five.”
Jason stood up.
“Four.”
He moved to the door, then paused. “Please read the fax.”
“Three.”
“My lawyers created a working draft, but we can negotiate.”
“Two.”
“It’s all on the up and up.”
“One.” She pulled her phone out of her jeans pocket.
“I’m going.” He turned and descended the stairs.
Vicky closed the door. She didn’t know whether to be horrified or amused, insulted or flattered. Then she remembered that Madz was expecting her at her shop. How the heck was she going to get there now?
Before she could think about what to do next, her cell phone rang. She checked the ID and groaned. Oh, well. She would have to talk to her sooner or later.
“Hello, Mother.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jason sat in the Jaguar for a few moments, wondering what his problem was. If he’d frozen like that while flying, he’d never have earned his pilot’s license. He shook his head and started the car. If only she hadn’t worn her hair down. All those wheaten tresses, framing that face and her perfect rosebud of a mouth. Seeing her smile had made him warm all over. And those emerald eyes made his pulse race.
They also made him jabber like an idiot, when he could talk at all.
Maybe he’d be better off looking elsewhere. He didn’t need to get into an arrangement with a woman who could leave him speechless. He needed to be in control of the situation at all times. He’d wait twenty-four hours like he promised, then he’d call her and tell her he had to find someone else.
Yes, that was the plan. He’d find someone plain and very desperate. Maybe he should place an ad. Damn. There just wasn’t time. He told his grandmother in the heat of the moment that he’d be at her stupid party with his fiancée.
Jason glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. “You sound like a tenth grader,” he said, “not a grown man. For God’s sake, she’s just a woman. You’ve had girlfriends before. She has no real power over you.” But deep inside, he worried that she did.
He found himself driving in circles around the neighborhood. Maybe he should go back to the hotel, or drive to Pueblo and check on his father’s plane. Dolores had never mentioned selling it. Did his inheritance include that airplane? That would mean more to him than all of the money in the world. He decided he needed to regroup. Maybe coffee would help after all. His thoughts were racing, returning every few seconds to Vicky’s perfect lips.
Coffee. Definitely. And something to eat. Something sweet. The Muffin Man. Was that bakery still open? It was close to the hotel, too.
It was nine-thirty by the time he settled with his coffee and a cinnamon roll at a table in the corner. The place was bustling. Three people were in line waiting for service, and all the other tables were occupied. It made him feel good to see a local business doing well. Dan Daniels was as jovial as Jason remembered him, rotund and merry, with pink cheeks and a purple tinged nose, in his white shirt, pants, and apron. Jason wondered if the man’s shoes were white as well. When he was a kid, his friends used to sing, “Dan, Dan, the Muffin Man” every time they passed the store.
The memory made him smile.
“Well, well, someone is feeling good today.”
He glanced up to find his grandmother’s party planner standing by his table. She had a coffee in one hand, a croissant in the other, and no place to sit. Jason motioned for her to join him.
“Hello, Dee. How’s it going?”
Dee was five-one, middle-aged, and very tidy in her tailored suit and sensible flat heels. Her short brown hair and sparkling blue eyes never seemed to change. She’d worked for his grandmother for as long as he could remember.
“Dolores told me you were coming home for the party. It’s going to be huge.”
Jason nodded politely. “I’m happy for you.”
“I think you’ll enjoy it this year. I know you feel these huge parties are a waste of money, but they make your grandmother happy. And this year,” she leaned in conspiratorially, “I’ve taken a page out of your book.”
Jason used a fork to cut a manageable bite of cinnamon roll. “Oh, really? How so?”
“I convinced your grandmother that the party could serve a community function by encouraging guests to donate to the local school arts program. I was amazed when she agreed, to tell the truth. She has that new personal assistant who tries to butt in on all of her decisions. I managed to talk to her alone about the party. Considering the combined annual income of the guest list, a fundraiser seemed appropriate.”
Jason was impressed. “That’s a great idea.”
Dee beamed with satisfaction. “I’m so glad you like it. If it goes over well, the fundraiser could become a permanent fixture.”
“I’m glad, Dee. It’s good to give back to the community. And frankly anything that pleases my grandmother is a good thing.”
Dee gave a little shrug. “You mean, since you managed to displease her within the first ten minutes of you
r visit?”
Jason frowned. “How did you know?”
“I called this morning and talked to Mrs. Johnson. She filled me in. Did you see Dolores while you were there this morning?”
“No, I just popped in and the suitcase was in the foyer. You and Cook are dangerous,” said Jason, teasingly. “What am I going to do if I end up living here and running the family interests? Will I need a cone of silence for every visitor to the house?”
Dee giggled like a little girl. “Oh, Mr. Darby, you are so funny.”
“Since when am I Mister Darby?”
“You’re not a little boy anymore. It feels strange to call you Jason now.”
“Well, forget that nonsense. You keep calling me Jason, okay?”
Dee looked pleased. “Thank you.” She focused on her croissant for a couple of bites, then spoke again. “It’s just amazing how much you look like your father. When I saw you sitting here, it carried me back to your parents’ wedding. That was my first job for your family, you know. I planned their wedding. Your mother was so beautiful.”
Jason sipped his coffee. The aroma of baking bread filled the shop with comforting yeasty smells. It seemed like none of the customers wanted to leave. He remembered his flashback to cookies baking in his grandmother’s home.
“Dee, I’ve been trying to remember more about the time before the accident. Dad used to take me flying in his Husky over at Pueblo Memorial. Did grandmother ever sell that plane?”
“Oh, no. It’s still there. I know because Mrs. Johnson told me Dolores nearly fired her personal assistant Gloria when she suggested getting rid of the plane and all the hangar fees and maintenance costs. You know, to save some money. It’s not cheap to keep a plane. And it’s not like Dolores was ever going to use it. But she said no, the plane would be yours someday.”
“Really?” Jason was touched that his grandmother had taken his wishes into account about that, at any rate. “I must admit, that’s good news. I was thinking of driving over there today and looking for it. Nice to know I’ll actually find it.” He let his mind drift back to his childhood. “I used to know a girl named Gloria,” he said. Then he shuddered. “Not my favorite memory. Say, when I was little, who was it who used to bake chocolate chip cookies?”
