by E. M. Shea
“I have road service, and I already called. They said it would be close to thirty minutes before they can get out here.”
“Well, between the engine leak and other people swerving to avoid jaywalking grasshoppers, it’s probably not very safe to wait in your car for the tow.”
Dani grinned at his grasshopper remark. Even if it was meant to be at her expense, she could appreciate the humor behind it. “Unfortunately, it’s a bit of a long walk to work. And I’m not exactly wearing my hiking shoes.”
“I can see that.” He peered down at her three-inch-high pumps. “How far is your workplace from here? If it’s in town I can give you a ride.”
“I’m at Schulman, Heinz and Associates in that new office complex downtown.”
Nick’s demeanor instantly shifted. “Seriously? You’re one of them?”
Likewise, Dani’s smile quickly evaporated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Does the name Victor Chobani ring a bell?”
It did … but she sure as hell wasn’t going to admit it.
“He was charged with armed robbery, and your firm got him off on some stupid technicality,” Nick continued with clear disdain in his voice. “Two months later, he shot one of my officers during—surprise, surprise—another armed robbery and nearly killed him.”
“I didn’t handle that particular case.”
“I’m sure you’ve handled plenty of similar ones.”
“You know what? Forget about the ride. I’ll call a coworker to come get me.”
“I don’t think it’s safe—”
“To be honest,” Dani shot back, her whole face now flushed with anger, “I’ll take my chances even if it means getting hit by a Mack truck. Anything other than having to listen to more of your insults.”
Before he could say anything further, she strode determinedly back to her SUV, opened the passenger door and sat sideways on the seat, legs dangling out on the highway shoulder as she called Margaret.
◆◆◆
Nick sighed as he watched Dani animatedly converse on her phone, her free hand moving erratically as if she were screaming about someone. Hmm … I wonder who that could be? He pondered for several moments whether to insist that she stand outside of the vehicle and further away from the travel lane, but surprised even himself by deciding to not push the situation any further. The radiator was no longer steaming now that the engine—unlike her temper—had cooled off, and her car was about as far over on the shoulder as it could possibly be, courtesy of aiming straight at the speeding sign.
Getting into his Explorer and putting the transmission into drive, he looked back once more in his rearview mirror at Dani’s vehicle, wondering if maybe, just maybe, he had deserved to be on the receiving end of her animosity after the comments he made about her law firm. Tell that to Greg Renaud, he reminded himself. The officer who had barely survived a shooting, courtesy of a criminal her colleagues had put back on the streets, was out on disability for nearly three years and had been left with a permanent limp.
Still … there was a part of him that was definitely feeling less than stellar about his own actions. It would simply be best all around if they never ran into each other again. As he began to accelerate forward on the highway, one word nonetheless parked itself squarely in his mind: Right?
Chapter Five
Dani scanned the crowded event room at the Golden Fig Restaurant, a popular venue in the center of Cedarsville. While not exactly a metropolis, the downtown area was in the midst of a renaissance of sorts, having recently been infused with new life in the form of several high-end eateries, a mid-sized conference center and an eclectic mix of hip and quirky shops.
Conversations buzzed and glasses clinked as Dani’s eyes made a third pass across the three dozen tables that were filled to the brim with well-dressed patrons out for a night of shoulder-rubbing and charity. Suddenly, a hand shot up in the air. Relieved, Dani waved back at Margaret as she made her way to the table for two that was tucked into the far-right corner of the room.
“You look great,” Dani said as she slid into a seat across from Margaret, whose curvy body was encased in a clingy fuchsia dress, an equally eye-piercing bright-pink silk flower jutting from the side of her curly updo.
“Thanks. So do you.”
“That’s a surprise, given how quickly I got dressed for this thing.”
In fact, she had only found out about the charity auction—and Leland’s generous contribution on behalf of promoting the law firm—earlier that afternoon, having been out of town for a professional conference when the details first came to light several weeks ago. Fortunately, Margaret had mentioned the event at lunchtime and quickly pleaded with her to join once she realized that Dani had been left out of the loop. But there had been no need to talk her into attending. Dani was more than happy to participate in a charity event, especially since the Southeastern Massachusetts Women’s Center—where she had been providing free pro bono work for the past several years—was one of the regional organizations that would benefit from the auction.
And so here she was now, clad in the requisite little black dress that had been gathering dust in the far corner of her closet, paired with red and black zebra print open-toe ankle boots for a fun kick of color.
The event room now at capacity, Margaret leaned in to be heard over the crowd. “So here’s my plan,” she announced in a conspiratorial tone. “We have five-thousand buckaroos that we can spend.” She picked up the auction paddle that was lying on their table with a large “38” emblazoned in the center and waved it for effect. “So I’ll take one for the team.”
“Hold on a sec!” Dani reached over to grab the paddle, fumbling in the air as Margaret quickly swiped it out of reach.
“Look, you and I both know it’s not going to be Chris Hemsworth strutting his stuff up on that stage.” Margaret nodded in the direction of tuxedo-clad Orrin Pritcher, a portly, thrice-divorced 55-year-old owner of a multi-state car dealership who was making the rounds in the lead-up to his stage appearance. “Do you really want to be canoodling with our boy Orrin over there? It’s one thing to see his mug staring down at you from a billboard every morning,” she said, a reference to one of several such larger-than-life signs that loomed over major roadways in the area. “And another altogether to be waking up to it wheezing two inches from your face. And with soggy, cigar-fueled morning breath, no less.”
Dani laughed and shook her head. “You do realize that this is all in fun and a way to raise money for charity, right? The so-called dates that result from this thing are just a formality.”
“Formality, my ass. I’m overworked and underpaid. Which means Leland owes me, and tonight I plan to cash in.”
“So what you’re really saying is you want to get laid. And for Leland to pay for it.”
“Damn, you can see right through me.”
Dani raised an eyebrow. “With that dress, everyone can.”
Margaret gasped as she playfully slapped Dani’s arm. “Then mission accomplished,” she added, cupping the bottom of her full breasts and heaving them upward.
“By the way, what ever happened to that guy you were dating? What was his name—Ham? Spam?”
“You mean Graham?”
“I knew the name has something to do with food.” Margaret said. To Dani’s quizzical look, she added, “Crackers.”
“Well, that’s a bit of a stretch. But yeah … it didn’t go anywhere.”
“What happened? The last I recall, you were telling me you had met this great guy. And knowing how picky you are, that was a big deal in itself.”
“I’m not picky,” Dani countered. “I’m selective.”
“Oh—big difference.” Margaret’s verbal agreement was instantly negated by an exaggerated roll of the eyes.
“On paper, he seemed perfect.” It was a figurative statement, given that her initial introduction to Graham was on a dating website. “He’s a software programmer—”
“Borinn
gg!” Margaret interjected.
“Smart,” Dani quickly corrected. “And he’s good looking.”
“Very important.”
“Likes cats.”
“Ehh … “
“What do you mean ‘eh’? If a guy doesn’t like Gypsy—or if she doesn’t like him—it’s an automatic deal-breaker.”
“Okay, so cut to the chase, then. What was the problem?”
“There was just no …” Dani struggled to find the right word, finally adding, “… chemistry.”
Margaret cringed. “Now that’s a deal-breaker.” She paused for a rare, reflective moment. “I tell you what. Just to be fair, you can have my leftovers tonight.”
Dani eyed Margaret’s plate of half shell oysters, their innards oozing like a bad bronchial infection. “Uh, no thank you.”
“I’m talking about the grand prize.”
Dani arched an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Girl, for a whip-smart lawyer, you can be awfully slow on the uptake. What I’m trying to say is that once I’m done with Mr. Right Now—who I’ll be choosing as soon as this shindig gets underway—you can take a crack at him.”
As if on cue, the lights began to dim. “Hold that thought,” Dani said, tempted to add “permanently” to her directive. She took a sip of her white wine, followed quickly by a gulp. Knowing Margaret, things could get out of hand—and body parts out of clothes—real fast, which meant she would need some reinforcements to get through the night.
Anne Turner, a local radio personality, strode onto the stage and leaned into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the third annual Cedarsville Charity Date Auction.” She waited for a solid round of applause to die down. “All the proceeds from tonight’s winning bids will go to support a number of important local charities, so it’s great to see such an enthusiastic turnout. Hopefully, you’ve all had a chance to look over the rules for how tonight will play out. But just a quick recap. I will announce each date as he or she makes his—or her—way to the stage. We have ten fabulous women and ten equally fine men in our lineup, and we’ll be taking turns. By that I mean we’ll start with a female date, then a male date, etcetera. Bidding starts at two-hundred dollars.”
“What do I get for that price?” a male voice from a table near the stage called out amid laughter.
Anne gamefully played along. “You get a G-rated date, all expenses paid for, thanks to local establishments that are contributing to the event.”
“How do I turn it into an R-rated date?” Margaret bellowed, her hands cupped around her mouth as even louder laughter ensued.
Mortified as all heads turned in their direction, Dani shielded her face with her hand as best she could, wishing she could instead slither under the table.
“Well, that’s totally up to you—and your date, of course,” replied Anne, ever the good sport, as some eventgoers began clapping. “But to be clear, we’re just advocating a nice shared dinner, perhaps a few drinks, and of course, great … conversation.” As the cat calls grew louder, she again leaned into the mic. “I think we need to get the show started before things get too heated in here—what do you say?” She waited for the applause to die down before continuing. “First up, we have Eleanor Smythe, owner of Beads and Baubles, a lovely little jewelry boutique right here in downtown Cedarsville.”
An attractive brunette woman in her early 30s walked onto the stage, prompting a number of auction paddles to simultaneously pop up in the air. As the bidding began in earnest, Dani temporarily tuned out the sound and action, focusing instead of an auction pamphlet that had been left on the table.
“Sold!” Anne exclaimed several minutes later, reigniting Dani’s attention. She had just finished reading a summary of the auction and highlights from its past three years, and was about to scan the list of this year’s participants.
Margaret wrinkled her nose as Eleanor’s date, an attractive, athletic-looking man in his late 20s, bounded up to the stage. “Can you believe someone bid two-thousand for her?”
Dani half grimaced. “What do you mean? She’s attractive, and obviously successful if she runs her own business. I’m not surprised at all.”
Margaret wasn’t convinced. “Look how stiff she is.”
“She’s nervous! As I’m sure many of them are. I know I would be.”
“Ssshhhh,” Margaret hushed, raising a hand as if to wave in some silence. “It’s our turn for something stiff.” She leaned forward excitedly as a shadow emerged from behind the stage curtain, growing into a solidly rugged, determined figure as it strode confidently across the stage.
Her interest piqued, Dani leaned forward as well to get a better look. From the angle of their table at the far right of the stage, she couldn’t quite see his face yet. But what she could see … well, she was liking that a whole lot. Casual jeans that were tight in all the right places, a tan V-neck shirt beneath a black blazer—and were those cowboy boots rounding out tonight’s must-have look? Mmmm mmmm …
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Anne began. “Make that just the ladies,” she quickly added to enthusiastic whoops, several of which nevertheless sounded quite male. “Our first bachelor of the evening needs no introduction. That is, for those of you who have a lead foot.”
Dani froze. “I have a very bad feeling about this,” she said in a low voice as the latest contender’s face began to emerge into view. She grabbed the pamphlet to check the list of bachelor names, her heart stopping a quarter of the way down.
“Sergeant Nick Bellamy has been a member of the Cedarsville Police Department for seven years,” Anne continued. “So if you’ve been speeding around town, you may have already been introduced.”
Dani groaned at about the same moment that Margaret’s hand shot up with the paddle firmly in her grip.
“Hold on!” Dani urged, grabbing Margaret’s arm back down to the table.
“Are you crazy?” Margaret thrust the paddle back up even higher than before. “He might be the first one out on stage, but I can already tell he’s by far the best thing on the menu tonight!”
“Look, before you get your panties in a knot—”
“I’m not wearing any—”
“This is the cop I’ve been telling you about! You know, the speeding ticket and the accident when you had to come get me the other day!”
Margaret’s paddle arm faltered just long enough to slap her free hand against her mouth. “No!”
“Yes!”
“You lucky dog!”
“Four-hundred dollars!” a female voice called out from the back of the room. It was quickly followed by a succession of bids, each topping the one before.
“Three-thousand dollars!” came an ear-piercing screech. That it had rolled out of the mouth of an otherwise refined-looking 60-ish-year-old woman only added to the surrealness that had left Dani’s own mouth fully agape.
“Five-thousand dollars!” Margaret yelled as she stood up from the table and then climbed onto the chair, her paddle now dwarfing the sea of wooden signs waving vigorously in the air.
Hands covering her eyes as she tried to shield herself from the nearly out-of-control spectacle that was fast approaching, Dani spread apart several fingers to peek up at the stage. Nick appeared equally thrown off kilter by the melee in his midst, dodging as a large pink bra was flung at his head.
Margaret looked down at Dani from her perch on the chair. “It’s not mine!” she exclaimed, as though reading Dani’s thoughts. “Besides, it’s two cups too small.”
“Oh my goodness,” Anne said into the microphone, followed by a nervous laugh. “I think we need to scale things back a bit before we all get thrown out of here!”
“Five-thousand dollars!” Margaret yelled again as Dani grabbed her leg and squeezed hard. She was two seconds away from yanking her clear off the chair when Anne pointed at Margaret and then scanned the crowd with her index finger. “We have five-thousand dollars. Do I hear any more bids?”
“I’m tempted to take ou
t a loan,” said one of the top bidders loud enough for all to hear. “But unfortunately, I can’t go any higher.”
“Same here,” seconded another, as previously eager bidders dropped their paddles in dejected defeat.
Anne pointed to Margaret again. “Sold to the woman in the pink dress! Come on up here and meet your date!”
“We’ll talk about this later,” Dani said through gritted teeth.
Margaret stood up and straightened out an imaginary crease in her clingy, wrinkle-proof dress. She flashed Dani an exaggerated smile. “Actually, we’ll talk sooner than that.”
Too flustered to try to decipher her cryptic response, Dani held her breath and watched as Margaret sidled up to Anne and Nick.
“Thank you,” Margaret said, nearly shoving Anne aside in an effort to hog the microphone. “I just want to add that I was actually bidding on behalf of my good friend and colleague, Dani Scott.”
Dani did a double-take. “What?”
Following Margaret’s line of vision until it landed on Dani, it was Nick’s turn to do a double-take. Make that a triple.
“Can you come up here please, Dani, and say ‘hello’ to your date?” Margaret asked over the microphone.
Dani silently mouthed, “No,” with such vigor that it still registered louder than a scream.
With a not-so-discreet nudge that nearly knocked Margaret off her stiletto heels, Anne reclaimed her spot in front of the microphone. “Oh, come on now, be a good sport and come up here for just a minute.”
I’m going to puke, Dani thought as she stood up from her chair on wobbly legs. She could feel all eyes on her as she made her way up to the stage, positioning herself to the left of both Anne and Margaret—and furthest most from Nick.
“Come on over here, Sergeant,” Anne said as she motioned to Nick with her hand.
“This wasn’t my idea,” Dani whispered as he was hustled next to her.
“Sure it wasn’t,” he whispered back with ventriloquist precision, his mouth plastered in a frozen half smile for the audience.
