“Well that’s good news.”
“And he’s going to step up all outside surveillance, letting the other shifts know to keep an eye out in case Cy doesn’t take the hint.”
She reached over and squeezed his knee, loving the feel of his hard muscles under her fingers. “It’s nice to have friends, isn’t it?”
He blinked. “I, uh, guess it is. I just never realized I did.” He studied the road ahead with a contemplative frown. “After that client of mine went nuts, everything changed… Until you came along—”
“Me and Beletseri,” she interrupted.
He gave a wry laugh. “Okay. You and Bel. But until then I’d only been going through the motions of life. Autopilot, you might say. In the ensuing years, I haven’t been aware of doing anything bad or good. Which is extremely disconcerting in retrospect.” His demeanor turned sheepish. “You want to know what a jerk I am, even now? I, uh, called my receptionist by the wrong name today. Grayson instead of Graham.”
Darby giggled. “Oh, God. You didn’t. How long has he worked for you?”
“A month.”
She wagged a finger at him. “Seriously? Then give yourself a break. You worked with him for what, two days? Three? Then spent the next two weeks in a supposed coma in a hospital bed before rushing to Minneapolis to change my life. You’re not superman, Hutch. Do you know I have customers at Arkie’s who’ve been coming in for years and still call me Darlene, or Darcy?”
He grinned. “And I bet you smile like you’re their best friend and pretend nothing’s wrong.”
“Of course.” She wanted to prolong the light mood. “If they knew my middle name, however, that could be trouble.”
His brows went up, a smirk on his lips. “Middle name? Is it bad?”
“Not bad, just…a conversation starter.”
“Should I guess?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ll never get it in a million years.”
“You might be surprised. Give me a hint.”
“Okay. Think baseball, and the Minnesota Twins.”
“T.C. Bear,” he teased.
She snorted in glee. “I’m nobody’s mascot. Try again.”
“Maybe your father tagged you for his favorite player.” He stroked his chin. “Which narrows down my guesses because I only know two, Rod Carew and Harmon Killebrew. Is your middle name Harmon?”
She erupted in laughter. “No. And you’ll feel silly when I tell you, because I’m sure you know him. He played his entire career for the Twins.”
His forehead wrinkled. “I follow baseball, but I’m a White Sox fan.”
She reeled back, pretending distaste. “That could be a real dealbreaker, you know.”
“Seriously? Socially aloof is okay, but being a Sox fan makes me questionable?”
“A girl has to have standards,” she teased. “But in your case, I’m willing to overlook it as long as you swear allegiance to the Twins for the rest of your life.”
Darby was astounded at herself. When was the last time she felt comfortable talking baseball? And she wasn’t just relaxed, she was happy visiting memories she’d made with her father. She took a deep breath, conjuring pictures of her mom and dad, and for the first time, didn’t feel like she was going to cry.
“What is it?” Hutch asked. Was he always so in tune? No wonder he’d been—and would be again—a good shrink.
“Listen to me. I’m talking about baseball, and my dad, and unlike every time, ever, I’m not bawling my eyes out.”
“That’s good,” he responded softly.
“It’s weird. I just…brought my parents’ faces to mind, and I got sad, but warm, too. Having known two such amazing people, being the recipient of their love, it was such a blessing.” She turned and faced him as they pulled into his garage. “You did this for me, Hutch.”
He shook his head and parked. “No. You did it yourself. You simply needed a safe space where you could remember, knowing someone would catch you if you fell.”
“Knowing you’d catch me,” she corrected.
“Okay. That I’ll take. I’m pleased to be here for you.” He took off his seatbelt, unclicked hers and drew her across the console onto his lap. “And I’ll be here for you for as long as you want.”
Tears pricked the back of her eyes. What had started as a lighthearted discussion had ended up, once again, with Hutch letting her know he wasn’t going anywhere. He hadn’t said the “L” word yet… Well, he almost had, but at the smallest sign from her… Nope. She couldn’t do it. At least not until Cy was out of her life and she could make definite plans for her future. Placing both hands on his chest, she pushed back from him. “You haven’t guessed my middle name yet.”
He inched his head forward and kissed her neck. “You’re right. I haven’t. Because I know it.”
“You do?” Her eyes grew wide.
“Uh, huh. Jim googled you when I asked him for help with the Abernathy mess. I hope you don’t mind.”
She shook her head. She’d told him it was okay to look into her past. “So what is it, smart guy?”
Hutch relented. “It’s Oliva. For Tony Oliva. Golden Glove right fielder, AL batting champ for three seasons, and a three-time coach at the Major League level.”
She blinked back tears. Happy tears. “You are incredible,” she choked out, leaning forward to place her lips on his. He returned the pressure. “I feel so lucky you found your way into my life.”
He breathed her in, just in back of her ear and it tickled. She squirmed.
“Bel deserves the credit for that,” he reminded her, continuing his exploration of her neck. “She knew you were the perfect woman for me.”
“Far from perfect.” She practically purred as his lips found the hollow of her throat. “But if you want to believe it, and it gets me more of this, then yeah.”
“You do know Harvey, or whoever is on duty now, is watching the cameras with extra vigilance. I’m pretty sure if we don’t get out of the car in the next few minutes, we can expect a visit from the police.”
She turned and planted a firm kiss on his mouth before wiggling off his lap and into her own seat. “Then we should take this up to your place. How long before we have to meet your parents?”
He looked at his watch as she tempered her smirk. “Just under two hours.”
“Plenty of time.” She nodded while reaching for her door handle. “I’ve been dying to see if your counter height is correct.”
His brows drew together in confusion before he gasped and sucked in a breath, his eyes growing smoky. “Hell, yeah,” he agreed.
“Why, Mr. Bates, I do believe you swore again.”
“No. Not at all. Just invoking my new place of employment.”
She laughed. “Touché. Now I’m getting impatient. Shall we go?”
“You don’t have to ask twice.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The counter height turned out to be ideal, and despite the cold granite on her bottom, Darby had given it her unequivocal approval. They’d moved from there to his multi-head shower, then on to his walk-in closet where he’d pushed the clothes aside and taken her up against the wall. He may have hit the closet rod one time too many with his forehead, but his hair would cover any red marks remaining when they met his parents.
“I wish I hadn’t agreed to this,” he grumbled, as he expertly knotted his tie.
Darby watched him with avid interest.
“Something interesting over here?”
“I haven’t seen anyone do that since my dad. Whenever there was a banquet, he’d dress up and put on a tie,” she told him. “It seems like magic.”
He laughed. “Not magic. Just habit. Turn off the lights, stand me on my head, and I’ll still make the perfect Windsor. Now come here, gorgeous.” He reached a hand toward her and she went, easily. She was so beautiful in her finery, just the slightest hint of make-up on her face. He turned her around. “Never struggle with your zipper while I’m around.”
&nbs
p; She snorted. “I didn’t want to distract you again since we’re running short on time.”
“More distraction, later,” he told her, raising the tab. He turned her to face him and suddenly looked worried. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? My parents can be…overbearing, and this could go one of two ways. They’ll either love you because they’ve never seen me serious about somebody, or they’ll grill you over your current circumstances and decide you’re not good enough for their only child.”
“If that happens, I’ll just have to convince them.” She reached up, pulling him down by his lapels to land a kiss on his chin. “And if they still don’t come around, will you kick me out?” She joked, but he heard the underlying worry in her question.
“Not even close. I love my parents, but they don’t dictate my life. I’ve chosen you, and they’ll have to understand.”
She sighed and leaned her cheek against his chest, making him wish she’d stay that way, forever. “You’re a pretty special guy, Hutchinson Bates…” Her head popped up. “…whose middle name I don’t know!”
“Uh, uh.” He shook his head, laughing. “You’re not getting that one out of me.”
She spun around and grabbed a small hand-purse—another thrift shop purchase—off the bed, before heading to the door. “Then I’ll have to make your parents love me, so they’ll tell.”
He picked up his phone and hit a button. “Reminder to self. Call attorney and change middle name.”
She laughed all the way to the elevator.
Once in the car and on the way, he remembered his appointment in the morning. “I forgot to tell you. Bel is sending someone over at nine tomorrow with my contract.”
“That Marduk fellow, the god?” she asked.
“You heard?” He hadn’t known if she’d been awake or asleep for that part of his discussion with the goddess.
“I heard,” she confirmed. “And I have to say, I’m curious. What does a god look like, anyway?”
He paused, giving it some thought. “Well, if Bel is any indication, deities are extraordinarily beautiful, but otherwise very human in appearance.”
“You think she’s beautiful?” Her posture stiffened.
Was Darby jealous? He hoped so. “And very happily married with a young son. Did I mention that?”
She sat back, seemingly pleased. “No. You didn’t. I’d like to meet her. Will she be at the meeting tomorrow?”
He frowned. “No. She said something about tele-communicating.” So why was the god, Marduk able to meet in person when Bel could not? “I’m not sure what her deal is. Maybe I’ll have to ask a few more questions.”
“She may not like that.” Darby shook her head.
“Yes, but once our contract is complete, she’s stuck with me. I wouldn’t mind knowing a little more about her.”
“Just be careful, Hutch. Dealing with gods from Hell,” she shivered. “It’s all a bit unsettling.”
He’d seen Hell, and purgatory, and had to agree. “Don’t worry. I won’t rock the boat…too much.”
He could tell Darby was nervous as they drove up to the well-appointed club, ensconced in one of Chicago’s older, more ornate buildings. “We can turn around right now. I’ll call and tell them something came up.”
“No. I’m good.” She smoothed her dress down with twitchy fingers for the hundredth time. “It’s not necessarily your parents. It’s… I’m just not used to…all this.” She waved her hand around and stopped as it landed on the attendant at the door. “Ohhh,” she groaned. “Seriously? Valet parking?”
“It’ll be fine, Darby. There’s lots of valet parking in the city. Even at the hospital ER.”
“Which is where we’ll be later, if my heart doesn’t slow down,” she griped with a wryly funny edge.
He pulled up, got out and handed the attendant his keys, coming around to open Darby’s door. “Shall we?” He held out his hand.
“Now or never.” She heaved a breath.
Walking inside, Hutch looked around, wondering what Darby would see. Funny, he’d been here hundreds of times, and had never taken in the opulent décor. It was tasteful, but at the same time screamed “old wealth”. He glanced at the woman by his side and was proud. Her posture was erect, her head held high, and a confident smile played about her lips. No one looking would ever think she didn’t belong.
He spotted his parents at their accustomed table by the far wall, and led Darby toward them. His father stood up. A fit man still, at sixty-five, he wondered if Darby could see the family resemblance.
“Your dad is very handsome,” Darby whispered to him. “I’d know he was related even if we weren’t headed in that direction. And your mom…? Intimidating.”
Because her face was set. She was a daunting presence until her personality came to the forefront, only then exuding warmth with her brilliant smile.
“Give her a minute,” was Hutch’s advice. He hoped he was right.
“Mom, Dad,” he called as he approached. He hugged his dad, then leaned down to peck his mother on the cheek. “This is Darby Peltor, a special friend.”
Darby didn’t wait for their response, but stepped forward and offered her hand. “I’m so pleased to meet both of you. Hutch has told me so many wonderful things, your love and support growing up and during his latest illness. I’m only sorry I couldn’t make it to Chicago to be with you throughout that frightening time.”
They all shook hands, and his mother thawed a little. “Hutch said you couldn’t get away from your job.” She indicated they should both have a seat, and Hutch pulled out Darby’s chair for her. She sat down.
“That, and transportation is difficult since I don’t currently own a car.”
“Oh?” His mother’s well-drawn eyebrows went up.
“Mother,” Hutch warned, using a specific tone of voice. “You promised you wouldn’t judge.”
“I’m not judging,” she said, haughtily. “I’m merely wondering why someone her age has no transportation.”
The waiter came and took their drink order, relieving a little of the tension.
“It’s a long story,” Darby allowed. “But it’s who I am. So if you really want to hear it…”
He covered her hand with his. “You don’t have to. I’m okay one way or the other if they don’t warm up.”
His father made a disgruntled noise in his throat. “I think you’re reading us wrong, Hutchinson. We’re just cautious where our only son is concerned. Give us a chance to get to know your girl.”
Their drinks arrived and they all placed their orders, although when Darby told the waiter she’d have what Hutch was ordering, he wasn’t sure she knew what it was. Clearly she was contemplating her next move.
“I want your trust, which is why I might as well tell you everything.” Darby picked up her napkin and ran the fine, damask material through her fingers.
“We’d be honored to hear it,” his father replied.
She took a deep breath. “Right now, and for the past five years, I’ve been a clerk at a convenience store…”
Hutch watched his parents’ faces, his mother’s in particular. Tight. Disapproving. But after the twenty minutes it took Darby’s story to complete, his mom went from hard and implacable to near tears. He saw the minute she became a fierce advocate for Darby against the Abernathy’s grasping crimes.
“You poor thing. Those despicable people! We’ll have our attorney look into them first thing tomorrow,” she said angrily.
“Not to worry, Mom. I’ve got Jim on it, already.”
“Well, we want to help, too. To lose your parents like that, and have vultures taking advantage of you.” She picked up her wine glass to hide the tears Hutch saw in her eyes. “You never mind all that, now. You have us. And we take care of our own.”
Before Darby could respond, his dad spoke up. “I remember your father,” he said.
Hutch couldn’t hide his surprise, and neither could Darby, who jerked her head back as if her world roc
ked. “You do?” she whispered.
He nodded. “I’m an investment broker, and our firm did business with the Twins and their farm teams. Back in those days, I was involved on a more personal level, and on several occasions had the opportunity to meet with the players and coaches, giving them investment advice. Your father was quite astute.” He shook his head. “I remember being saddened by his death, but also thinking his estate at that time held a fairly tidy sum.” His dad looked up and blinked at Darby. “You look a lot like him,” he said.
Darby sniffed back tears. “So I’ve been told.”
His father put on a stern, but caring face, hiding his own turbulent emotions. “If you don’t object, I wonder if you’d mind me digging into his past investments. It might help clarify things for Jim.”
Hutch saw Darby nod, choke up, and answered for her. “That would be wonderful, Dad. I’m sure Jim would love your help.”
Darby covered her face with her hands.
“Are you alright, dear?” his mother asked. “Can we do something for you?”
She raised her head and blinked the moisture away, smiling through her pain. “You’ve already done it.”
CHAPTER FORTY
Darby stretched, watching Hutch. The first thing he’d done when they got home, was call Jim, asking if he’d be able to meet in the condo at 8:30 the next morning. Once that was settled, the second thing he did was take advantage of her little black dress…in some very creative ways.
After exhausting themselves, they lay in bed where she snuggled up under Hutch’s arm. “I love your parents,” she told him. “They’re formidable, yet so kind.”
She felt him chuckle under her cheek. “You’ve got them pegged. They put on a good, aristocratic show, but underneath it all, they’re extremely caring.”
“They adore you, too.”
He shrugged and laughed again. “I’m their only child. They have to.”
She became somber. “No, they don’t. In the world I inhabit, I’ve seen people treat their kids despicably; use them as pawns in ugly divorce situations, or take on foster children just for the paycheck. It’s awful.”
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