Wife on Approval

by Leigh Michaels

  "Neither. Not that it's your business."

  "What affects my daughter's happiness is my business. I don't want you to forget what your marriage was really like. If putting my nose into things will keep you from being foolish enough to fall for that man again-"

  "I'm not likely to forget, Mother. Especially as long as I have his daughter right here to remind me."

  "Hmm," Eileen said. "I guess we'll see about that, won't we?"

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JENNIFER was, as ordered, sitting just outside the bungalow's enclosed back porch, atop the flight of steps. Her feet were drawn up under her, and her arms hugged her knees. She looked very cold, Paige thought, and very much alone.

  The child looked up with a frown as Paige crossed the porch. "You scared her away." "Her?" Paige asked.

  "The kitty. I sat here and I sat here, and finally she came out to eat, just when you opened the door."

  So Jennifer had been right; there was a cat, after all. "Maybe she'll come back." Paige settled as quietly as she could onto the step.

  Jennifer leaned against her.

  Paige's heart squeezed painfully. He chose his weapon well, Eileen had said, implying that Austin was using Jennifer for his own nefarious purposes. If Paige fell in love with Jennifer...then what?

  He's just trying to lure me back into bed, no doubt, Paige thought wryly, and shook her head in astonishment that her mother could truly be shortsighted enough to believe that Austin had any such intention. What on earth could he gain?

  Pleasure, of course-there had never been any shortage of enjoyment in their marriage bed, and Paige didn't doubt that Austin remembered that fact just as clearly as she did. But a man in Austin's position could find feminine diversion anywhere he looked. He didn't need to chase after a woman who represented as many bad memories as good ones, one who could only complicate his life, when there were women like Tricia Cade panting to be noticed.

  No, Eileen was dead wrong about that.

  And she was wrong, too, that Austin had set out to insert Jennifer into Paige's life. He was simply a single parent stuck in a bad situation. Once he was home from this business trip, once the school was back in operation, once he'd had a chance to settle in and make some new friends...then he wouldn't need to rely on Paige any longer. And he'd no doubt be as relieved when that day came as she would be.

  Paige would see him now and then, of course. She couldn't possibly avoid Sabrina's parties for the rest other life, even if she wanted to, and he would no doubt be part of the crowd on occasion. She'd probably even see Jennifer now and then, at events like the Tanner Electronics Christmas party. But it wouldn't be like this.

  And, she thought as she felt the trusting weight of the child against her, she'd better not forget it.

  From under the lilac bush crept the scrawniest tiger-striped cat Paige had ever seen. It was hardly larger than a kitten, though it obviously wasn't just a baby but a very skinny young adult. It seemed to be all eyes, ears, and tail.

  "I've never had a kitty before," Jennifer said softly.

  Paige bit her tongue to keep from pointing out that the child didn't have one now, either. An emaciated, wild-eyed stray was hardly a pet. Besides, she suspected, both Austin and the management of Aspen Towers would have something to say about the subject of a cat in the penthouse apartment.

  The cat's ears tipped as if to capture Jennifer's wheedling tone, and then the animal took a last slurp of milk and darted back under the porch.

  "Time to come in," Paige said. "You're trembling from the cold."

  "But she might come back."

  "If she does, there's more milk in the dish."

  "But it'll freeze!"

  "Cats have ways of keeping warm."

  "I mean the milk will freeze," Jennifer said impatiently.

  "You can bring more out after dinner."

  Jennifer's mouth set firmly, and Paige knew the battle line had been drawn. She was contemplating her next move, and thinking about how much that obstinate jaw reminded her of Austin, when Eileen opened the back door. "Phone," she said briefly.

  "I'll be right there, Mother."

  "It's for Jennifer."

  The child's face lit up. "Daddy!" she shrieked, and the cat was forgotten as she leaped up and tore past the wheelchair and into the house.

  A few minutes later, Jennifer was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor with the cordless phone while Paige put the finishing touches on the meal Eileen had started. Much as she tried not to listen, Paige couldn't avoid hearing Jennifer's end of the conversation. Not that it did her much good; the child was practically monosyllabic. Finally, however, she held out the telephone to Paige. "Daddy wants to talk to you," she announced.

  Keep it light, Paige reminded herself. "You've got great timing, Austin. This phone call got me out of a pinch here."

  "With Jen or your mother?"

  "Your daughter went on strike and refused to come inside."

  "You're kidding. The poster girl for central heating wanted to stay out in the cold?"

  "Well, she's trying to adopt a stray cat. Don't worry, it's about as approachable as a leopard in the wild." She glanced over her shoulder at Eileen, who with lips pressed tight together was laying flatware on the table, while Jennifer watched intently.

  Paige took the phone around the corner into the hall. "Maybe I should release you from your promise," she said. "Mother's looking grumpy at the moment simply because she happened to answer the phone, and the flowers certainly didn't do quite what you intended to soften her up."

  "What flowers?"

  "The ones you -" She paused. "You didn't send flowers?"

  "No. The idea occurred to me, but frankly I thought it would be a little too obvious."

  "I sort of thought that myself," Paige admitted. "But - Oh, well, I guess it doesn't matter. I gave your best to Tricia Cade, by the way, when I went to your apartment to pick up Jennifer's clothes. She seemed disappointed to have missed you when you went home to pack for yourself." She added, with a tinge of maliciousness, "In fact, I got the impression Tricia would have been quite pleased to run upstairs and put your things in a bag with her own little hands."

  "I'll have to remember that," Austin said pleasantly.

  "Just another service Aspen Towers provides to its residents, I'm sure. I had trouble finding any jeans for Jennifer, by the way."

  "That's because she doesn't have any."

  Paige was momentarily nonplussed. "You mean, never?"

  "No, I mean she outgrew what she had, and since she's wearing school uniforms practically every day she hasn't needed play clothes. Apart from the rebellion over the cat, are things going all right? She isn't keeping you from working?"

  "Everything's just fine. How's the trip?"

  Such a casual conversation, she thought. So eminently normal. An eavesdropper who didn't know the circumstances might assume they were still married, the way they were chatting - comparing notes on business, child care, wardrobes, life in general. The only thing missing was the seductive nonsense he used to murmur into her ear.

  And why was she thinking of things like that?

  Because, Paige realized, that was almost exactly what he was doing. The subject matter was different, of course, but the tone of Austin's voice was all the reminder she needed. The mere thought made her muscles tighten.

  What was it, she wondered, which made a man's voice grow sexier when it was disembodied? Austin's, for instance, was always low and deep and warm-except, of course, when he was furious-but somehow on the telephone it was even more so. How paradoxical it was that his voice was even more intimate when he was far away than if he was in the room.

  As she listened to a swift assessment of Tanner's situation, she moved aside for Eileen and Jennifer as they went to wash up, and when he was finished, she didn't comment. Abruptly, she said, "Is there anything else, Austin?"

  The sudden silence on the other end of the line made her realize how taut her voice suddenly so
unded, and she tried to pass it off as unintentional. "It's just that dinner's getting cold, so unless there was something you needed to tell me-"

  "You might let the school know where Jennifer's staying."

  "In case they open again sooner than expected? I already have."

  "That's the only thing I can think of." Austin was studiously polite. "May I call again tomorrow?"

  "Of course. I'll tell Jennifer to expect it." And that should make it plain that I don't have any illusions about this easy chatter leading anywhere.

  She carried the hot casserole dish across the kitchen and stood eyeing the bouquet which Eileen had moved to one end of the table.

  It would be unforgivably nosy to peek at that card, she told herself. But the question, like an allergic rash, gave her no peace. If Austin hadn't sent the flowers, who had?

  She heard the quiet swish of Eileen's wheelchair and stepped away from the table, though it wasn't her mother's approach which had made her squash the temptation to pry. And much as she'd like to, Paige couldn't pretend that it was good old-fashioned conscience which had stopped her, either.

  What had really made her hand drop away from the flowers was the simple fact that the card was no longer there. Eileen must have removed it, along with the mail, while she was setting the table.

  At the deli where the partners met for lunch each Wednesday, the usual crowd was waiting in line. In the choicest corner booth, Cassie and Sabrina were already deep in conversation, the curly red head and the sleek dark one close together. Paige set her tray down on the table and handed Jennifer the basket containing her sandwich and chips.

  "Sorry you've had to wait for us," Paige said sweetly. "No need to apologize," Sabrina said. "You're right on time."

  "Really? Then you must have been very early, to snag this booth. Have I missed much of the conversation?" Paige thought Cassie looked a little chagrined, which only confirmed her suspicion that the subject of the conversation had been Paige herself, and the early meeting deliberate.

  "We were just discussing Ben Orcutt," Sabrina said airily. "He called Cassie this morning."

  "He can't possibly be out of clean dishes already." Paige took a bite from her turkey sandwich. "So does he need his checkbook balanced, a couple of buttons sewed on, or his refrigerator cleaned out?"

  "He never mentioned dishes, checkbooks, or buttons," Cassie said. "And his refrigerator hasn't been too bad ever since Sabrina taught him the fine art of putting leftovers down the garbage disposal instead of stashing them till they turn into antibiotics. I didn't even have to throw away my rubber gloves after the last time I cleaned it."

  "Then what did he want?" Paige asked.

  Cassie toyed with her soda. "He told me he has a Rent-A-Wife gift certificate he wants to spend - but where he'd have gotten that is beyond me."

  "Especially," Sabrina chimed in, "since we don't have them. Not that gift certificates are a bad idea, but-"

  Paige used her forefinger to gather up a few stray bread crumbs. "I was going to mention it. I thought, with the holiday coming up, it might be a good promotion. So I designed a certificate-"

  "But where did Ben get hold of one?"

  Paige very carefully rubbed the crumbs from her fingertip, letting them drop into a discarded paper napkin. "I gave it to him as a sort of bonus. I was trying not to lose a client."

  Sabrina's eyebrows soared. Cassie said, "Lose Ben? How in heaven's name could we do that?"

  Jennifer, who had been looking around the deli and apparently paying no attention to the conversation, said suddenly, "He was mad at Paige. At least she said he was, but he didn't look mad to me."

  "Thank you very much for that clarification, Jennifer," Paige said. "It's a long story, and since I think I have the trouble smoothed over, why go into the details? So why did he call you about the gift certificate, Cassie?"

  "Because he's obviously still mad at you, and he's too smart to call me," Sabrina said irrepressibly, "since he wants someone to cook for him."

  "Better judgment than I expected from Ben," Paige agreed. "But he gets most of his meals delivered from the senior citizen service, doesn't he?"

  Sabrina shrugged. "Maybe he's tired of their menus."

  "Or maybe he's taking my advice and inviting the neighbors in for cards and snacks."

  "He's not quite sure what he wants," Cassie said. "And it was no fun trying to pin him down."

  Sabrina's eyes lighted. "Maybe he's in love! Dinner for two, candlelight-"

  "Perhaps that's why he wasn't furious with me, after all," Paige mused. "If he was thinking about his party instead of the way I messed up-"

  Cassie and Sabrina exchanged a look, and Sabrina said, "Look out the window, Jennifer-it's started to snow. Are you finished with your sandwich? Let's go out, and I'll teach you to catch snowflakes on your tongue."

  "Don't be long," Paige said. "Remember we have to make a quick stop for cat food, Jennifer."

  "Cat food? Who's that for?" Sabrina asked.

  Jennifer looked at her as if she'd slipped a cog. "My cat."

  Cassie said, "I thought the leases at Aspen Towers don't allow pets."

  "I'm sure they don't." Paige pushed her sandwich aside. "But this is not an ordinary pet, believe me." She waited till the two were out of hearing range. "Go ahead, Cassie. By the way, how did you and Sabrina decide which one of you would distract Jennifer and which would have a little chat with me? Did you draw the short straw?"

  Cassie sighed. "We're just concerned, Sabrina and me. You've been acting really strangely lately."

  "You're right. It's not like me to offend a client. I can only say that I've had a lot on my mind lately, and-"

  "A lot? Are you sure it's not just one specific thing that's causing the trouble, Paige?"

  "You mean Jennifer?"

  "No, I mean Jennifer's daddy. For a woman who just a few weeks ago didn't want to have anything to do with Austin Weaver when he came to town for his interview, you certainly have got chummy with him in a hurry."

  "Who says I want to have anything to do with him now? I didn't ask for this complication in my life."

  "Didn't you? You didn't have to take on Jennifer. You could have told him to call Sabrina or me."

  Paige blinked. It was a perfectly sensible option; why, she wondered, hadn't it occurred to her? She said defensively, "Sabrina's wedding is less than two weeks off and you're up to your ears in work."

  "So are you," Cassie reminded. "I'm worried about you, Paige. You're the most home-minded of all three of us, and despite your attitude about men, I suspect you're the most susceptible. Especially where there's a child concerned - and a child who could clearly use a mom, at that."

  "Cassie-"

  "Honey, for a guy who's got a kid, Austin isn't exactly the most domesticated creature I've ever encountered. And his track record isn't very good, either."

  Paige shrugged. "It's not his fault Jennifer's mother died."

  Cassie's eyes widened. "What? Is that what he told you? He's divorced, Paige. His employment paperwork says so."

  Oops, Paige thought.

  But that made no sense. Why would Austin have mentioned his failed marriage? There would have been no need to list anything but his current, official marital status.

  Cassie's voice was taut. "If he told you he's a widower-"

  "Jennifer did. She told Sabrina, too, as a matter of fact," Paige added almost triumphantly. "And when she announced that her mother had died, Austin was right there."

  "That's odd." Cassie bit her lip. "I suppose it's possible she died after they were divorced, and rather than upset the child unnecessarily by going into detail..."

  "Does it matter, Cassie?" Paige pushed her sandwich aside. "Anyway, how do you know what's in his personnel file? Those things are supposed to be confidential."

  Cassie had the grace to color a little. "Jake let it slip. He's worried about you, too, Paige. If Austin isn't telling you the truth-"

  Paige took a deep breath. Sh
e'd let this go on too long, hoping it wouldn't be necessary to ever confess what an idiot she'd been. But she couldn't lie to her partners, even by omission, any longer. "As long as we're talking about truth, Cassie-"

  Before she could gather her courage, Jennifer burst through the door and came to a screeching halt beside the booth, holding out both mittens to display the enormous snowflakes which had caught against the bright red wool. "Look, Paige!"

  "I see, darling. How wonderful." She couldn't confess now, of course, with Jennifer listening in; if the child was ever to know of her father's marital misadventure, the news would have to come directly from him. Paige, guiltily aware of a tinge of relief because of the reprieve, looked straight at Cassie over the child's head and said, "Don't worry, I won't get confused. And believe me, I'm not in the least susceptible where Austin's concerned."

  Cassie, she thought, did not look convinced.

  The snow fell heavily for the rest of the afternoon, as if Mother Nature was setting out to clothe the city for Christmas. Jennifer was ecstatic; Paige was torn between enjoying the child's excitement and being annoyed at how the weather impacted her job. Every errand took twice as long, with the streets clogged by snow and slow-moving traffic. And every senior citizen on the client list seemed to be calling for extra help because of the storm.

  When Sabrina had first suggested adding another partner to Rent-A-Wife, Paige hadn't taken her too seriously. But she thought now that perhaps she'd been a littie too quick to dismiss the notion. One more set of hands would come in very handy indeed, and not only when the first real storm of winter set in. Not only was Rent-A-Wife growing, but the pressures on the three of them were increasing at an even faster rate than the business was.

  It had been different when all of them were single, able to arrange their lives around the job and willing to work extreme hours some days because they knew other days would be correspondingly relaxed. But now Cassie was a wife for real, and Sabrina soon would be-and they had other demands on their time. Paige couldn't blame them for wanting their working hours to be more predictable, or for wanting their evenings and weekends free.