by Janet Dailey
He whipped out a bandanna to mop his forehead. “Whew,” he said theatrically. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll play a waltz next and take it easy on you.”
Murmurs of approval rippled through the ballroom.
“I can’t hear you.”
Roars—weak roars—of approval followed.
“That’s more like it,” the fiddler said with satisfaction. “Now please pick up those pens you’ll find on your tables and make your tax-deductible donations and pledges to the Christmas House.”
A flurry of questions.
“That’s right, in the white envelopes with a picture of the House,” the fiddler said. “Checks or credit. This is their first year of funding programs for children in need all over the Denver metro area. Your help can make a difference. Thank you. We’ll be back in five.”
Zach set down his champagne flute. “When they return, Miss Lewis, if you would be so kind—”
She’d calmed down just a little. It helped to remember why they were here in the first place.
“I would be honored to dance with you, Mr. Bennett.”
A nice, sedate waltz actually sounded good. One hand on his shoulder, one hand clasped in his. Twelve inches apart at all times. Stick to the box step, she told herself. And Mrs. Neugebauer never allowed her students to whirl. No looking into Zachary Bennett’s deep blue eyes. Thank God there were no lifts in the standard waltz.
“There you are!” Edith whooped.
This time she reached them with ease, since so many people chose to sit down or wander off to look for refreshments. She snagged a chair from another table on the way, dragging it behind her.
“I saw you leave,” the older woman said in a conspiratorial whisper that carried to the nearby tables. She sat down, catching her breath.
“We saw you dancing,” Zach replied quickly. “Who was that man? Do I have to fight him for your honor?”
Edith laughed. “I might have to fight his wife. Just kidding.” She peered at Paula. “You look different. Now why is that?”
Paula felt her cheeks color. “It’s warm in here.”
“No, that’s not it.” The older woman stared at her. “Oh, your necklace is missing. I hope you didn’t lose it, honey.”
“The clasp came undone.” Zach pulled the glittering black strands from his pocket and handed the necklace to Paula.
Paula held it in her lap. “Thanks. I almost forgot you had it.”
Edith looked at her and then Zach. “I know a good jeweler you can take it to.”
Paula smiled. “That’s okay. I think I can fix it myself.”
“Suit yourself. You two aren’t leaving again, I hope.”
Edith fanned herself. Paula shook her head no.
“I need you to stay here and chat with folks, glad-hand on behalf of the Christmas House, that sort of thing. I know you’d rather have fun and it’s work but someone has to do it.”
“Not a problem,” Zach said after a fractional pause.
“We made out like bandits,” Edith told them when the ball was over and they were waiting to leave outside the Miner Hotel. “The Christmas House board might be able to make an offer for the mansion.”
“Do you really think so?” Paula asked.
Edith’s eyes twinkled over the collar of the white faux-fur wrap she was bundled up in. “Some of the checks were very, very generous. Apparently several wealthy donors have visited the House incognito. They were impressed.”
“You never told me that,” Paula protested.
“I didn’t know who they were myself until tonight. A couple of them stopped at your table to chat.”
Zach looked at Paula.
“When was that exactly?” she asked Edith. “I got a little giddy for a while.”
“Oh, you’re always level-headed,” the older woman replied. “Maybe too much so. Being giddy would be good for you.”
Paula didn’t know about that. “Did I miss anything else?”
“Oh—I almost forgot. The Denver police chief stopped by with the socialite he dates. He was on his way to another benefit but he’d heard about this one. I don’t suppose you know him personally?”
Paula cringed. “No. I don’t.”
“He’s a pretty good dancer. Ask me how I know.” Edith looked at both of them. Neither did. “Of course, I was hoping you would chat with him but—”
“Sounds like he had a great time,” Zach interrupted. “It was a very enjoyable evening.”
The old lady turned to him. “Yes. For one and all.”
That was true in ways Edith hadn’t guessed at. But Paula was exhausted. She’d managed to dance with Zach and not lose her head, and she made small talk with people she didn’t remember and nibbled on hors d’oeuvres and champagne and now she had a headache.
They shouldn’t have gone back into the ballroom. Uncertainty about the best kiss of her entire life had ruined the evening.
She pulled on her black velvet gloves. She’d retrieved them from the alcove just before their departure. Zach had called their driver, who’d said he was on his way.
The older woman peered into the darkness. “I wish Brandon would hurry.”
“When did he get a learner’s permit?” Paula asked.
“Just yesterday. He’s about to turn sixteen, you know. The car’s parked a block away but I get nervous. Especially because I’m supposed to be in there with him.” She quailed under Paula’s stern look. “Don’t blame him. I promise never to do that again. Oh, here he is.”
A small car drove toward them on the other side of the street. Brandon stopped and got out, looking pleased with himself.
His grandmother patted his cheek when he crossed the street and handed her the ignition key. “Well done,” she said. “You’ll have your license in no time.”
Zach waved the limo over as soon as he saw it. The driver eased into a spot at the hotel’s curb, pulling up in front of the four of them.
“Sorry, Mr. Bennett,” he said. “I think there’s something wrong with the engine. I’d like to look at it before we leave.”
“Sure. I’d help you but I can’t get my hands dirty.”
Brandon seemed surprised to see the limo. “A stretch? Way to go, man.” The remark was addressed to Zach.
“I’m not rich,” Zach said. “I just rent.”
“Hi, Brandon,” Paula said. “Congratulations on getting your permit.” She wasn’t going to be tactless and ask him if he’d enjoyed himself tonight. He’d been a good sport about showing up. She could skip the dumb questions.
“Thanks.” He walked with his grandmother to her car, the suit jacket that had belonged to his father flapping against his narrow chest. He took the jacket off before he got in, bunching it up into a ball and throwing it in the backseat.
The Claybornes drove off.
“He doesn’t look too happy,” Paula said to Zach.
“Let it go. Live your own life. You can’t fix what’s bothering him.”
The seriousness of Zach’s tone got her attention. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“He and I talked about a few things just before I came over to give you the invitation.”
Paula had guessed right. She was relieved to be distracted from her thoughts. The excitement of hearing even a bit of news about his father must have ebbed away, especially if nothing had come of it. But Zach wasn’t offering any details.
“It’s good that he can open up to someone.”
“I guess so,” Zach said. “I don’t think I can really help him. But if he wants to tag around after me at the Christmas House, I can find work for him.”
“That counts as help in my book.”
The driver straightened from under the hood, scrubbing at his hands with a rag. “I can’t figure out why it’s stalling,” he called to Zach. “But I think we can make it as far as the lady’s place. Unless you want to go to your friend’s apartment first.”
“Just a minute. We haven’t figured that out,” Zach called ba
ck. He looked hopefully at Paula.
“I have,” she said in a low voice. “You aren’t coming up. Just forget it and forget that kiss, too. We still have to work together.”
“True.”
“Go to Jake’s apartment.”
“I will.”
He didn’t seem inclined to argue. That didn’t sit right with her either. Would he go to Jake’s, or somewhere he could find the satisfaction she wouldn’t give him?
She made a cup of peppermint tea, letting the bag steep as she took off the dress and hung it up carefully. It was after midnight and she had to be at the station by eight on Sunday. Paula set her phone alarm for six-thirty and tucked it in the pocket of her terry robe. Swathed in its warmth, she went back into the kitchen, coming out with the cup and curling up in the pink armchair.
Paula was past thinking. What a night. She looked around her place. It was far from being a love nest. In fact, she’d never brought anyone here after a date. It was tidy most of the time; that was about all she could say for it.
There was no art to look at on the walls or homey knickknacks just for fun. The furniture was basic, bought for eating and sleeping and occasionally turning on a TV she barely watched. The overstuffed pink armchair was about the only piece that had personality. She had no time and no inclination for decorating.
She could write a book on the hazards of working too much and living alone. The trouble was she wouldn’t want to read it.
Paula sipped her tea and set down the cup on the floor when she was finished, burrowing into the armchair.
When she woke up, the room was filled with rays of sun. Her phone alarm was chiming, louder and louder. Stiffly, she extended her legs, letting the feeling come back into them. Her bare toes touched one of the wine-colored high heels she’d kicked off.
Paula pushed herself up out of the armchair and took the phone from her pocket, shutting off the alarm. Her routine never varied. Shower, dry and braid her hair, put on her uniform and shoes and heavy jacket, and get out.
She was at the station ahead of time for roll call. Paula took a detour through the cubicle area, greeting a few of her colleagues who’d moved up from the rank and file to their own little low-walled forts. A few heads lifted as she walked by. Whether they’d partied last night or policed the streets, they all had that weary Sunday-morning look.
Levi Sarton, a friend from her academy days, jerked his thumb toward the sergeant’s office. “He wants to see you.”
Paula looked toward the closed door, debating whether to stop by her locker first or just go in.
“Get it over with,” Levi added.
She was running through the possibilities in her mind. Had she and Zach been spotted making out? Was there security-camera footage from the scene?
Zach Bennett, a cowboy and a gentleman, lifting her up. Nuzzling her cleavage. Kissing and more kissing. Police Officer Paula Lewis enjoying every second of it. The city blogs would have a field day.
“Okay, okay.” She took off her jacket and hat and strode to the door, knocking on it. “It’s me, Paula Lewis,” she called.
“Come in,” a gruff voice commanded.
The sergeant, a large man with beetling gray eyebrows and a crew cut, looked sternly at her as she crossed the threshold. Paula quailed inwardly as she stood in front of his desk.
“You wanted to see me, Sergeant Meltzer?” She didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Relax,” he barked. “It’s good news.”
Her knees wobbled inside her uniform pants. “Oh.”
“Sit down.”
Paula did, wondering what on earth was going on.
Sergeant Meltzer folded his huge hands on the desk. “Had a call from the chief first thing this morning. Said he heard about your work at the Christmas House.”
She waited for the sergeant to say something about the benefit ball. He didn’t.
“Oh. Yes,” she answered vaguely. “I volunteer there between shifts.”
“Yeah? When do you find time to sleep?”
“Real police officers never sleep, sir.”
“Ha-ha. That’s my joke. You can’t use it.” He picked up a pencil and tapped his desk blotter. “Anyway, he said to give you a paid day off today.”
Paula’s eyes opened wide. “Excuse me?”
“I said, loud and clear, you have the day off.” Sergeant Meltzer’s gray eyebrows went up as his voice got even louder.
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Paula stood again, bundling up her jacket. “And thank the chief for me if you talk to him again.”
“Get out of here. And enjoy yourself.” He pointed the pencil at her. “That’s an order.”
Paula drove home and changed. The day was clear and sunny, although it was freezing. She couldn’t think of what to do with a whole day to herself. Although—for the first time—she didn’t feel like spending it at the Christmas House. They wouldn’t be expecting her until much later, during the evening rush of families doing weekend things together.
She’d leave it at that. The thought of Zach entered her mind. She dismissed it. He and Jake would probably throw together a guy-style enormous breakfast and watch sports.
It would be fun to stroll around the shops on 16th Street and not be walking the beat. She could window-shop and check out the decorations, maybe get some coffee and a sandwich. That seemed like enough of a plan for now.
A half hour later, she was walking down the wide thoroughfare. Bare trees glittered with a touch of frost, their limbs and twigs outlined with fairy lights that weren’t on during the day. But she could imagine it.
Paula just walked. Her unbraided hair was kept under control by a knit cap with a pom-pom on top, but some still brushed against her rosy cheeks. The strong wind barreling in from the Front Range got stronger as it blew through the buildings facing each other along the street.
She almost didn’t hear her cell phone ring at first, then reached into her pocket for it, looking at the number. Edith.
“Hello,” she said happily. “Guess what? I have the day off.”
“Hey. That’s great.” The voice that replied was a boy’s.
“Brandon?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Is your grandmother all right?”
“Yeah. She’s still asleep.”
“Oh. Well, nice to hear from you. What’s up?” Paula hoped Brandon hadn’t wrecked the car. She didn’t hear sirens in the background, which was reassuring. An unexpected call from a teenager wasn’t usually good news.
“Um, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Sure. Go ahead.” Paula stopped in front of a shop window display of four-poster dog beds. Not something she needed but fun to look at.
He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I want to get a Christmas present for my grandma and I don’t know what to buy. You know her pretty well. Any ideas?”
Paula smiled. “I’d have to think. Actually, I’m downtown right now.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I got a surprise day off,” she added.
“Cool. So maybe . . . could I meet you?”
Paula was taken aback. “Sure. Leave a note for your grandmother, though. I don’t want Edith worrying.”
“I’ll tell her I’m meeting Grace.”
“Who?” It wasn’t any of Paula’s business but she asked anyway.
“Grace Finn. She’s the baby-sitter who came in with those two little boys? The night I first worked as a doorman?”
The face of the pretty girl who had asked for Brandon’s name came back to Paula. She had seemed so sweet. And responsible. She’d managed those kids just fine. She was Brandon’s age too.
“Yes. I do,” Paula said warmly.
“Well, she looked me up online. So we, uh, got together last week. Just to hang out. My grandma likes her.”
“That’s great. So leave a note. But don’t lie.”
“I’m not,” Brandon said defensively. “I’m just leaving out the part about you. Me and Grace ar
e going to meet near downtown later today.”
“All right.” Paula named a time and an intersection where she would wait for him, and went into a cozy-looking place for a scone and coffee.
He was at the meeting place on the dot, engulfed by a heavy parka with a hoodie inside it.
Paula saw him first. “Hi, Brandon,” she teased, lifting the hood a little. “Are you in there? I can barely see you.”
His loopy grin made her laugh. Whatever his problems were lately, he was still just a kid.
“Yeah. I’m way too hot,” he said.
“My car isn’t far away. You could leave the parka in it and we could go to an indoor mall.”
He agreed. It wasn’t long before they were exploring the first level of a pleasant shopping space that wasn’t crowded with Sunday shoppers yet. He didn’t see anything he liked and neither did Paula.
They rode the escalator up to the second level. Paula spotted a girl she recognized on the down escalator as it moved by them before she remembered her name. Fair hair, thin, heavy eye makeup.
Oh yes. She remembered.
Tabitha Greene ignored both of them, her narrow nose in the air. Paula looked at Brandon, worried that he would be upset. He only shrugged.
Easy come, easy go. Paula breathed a sigh of relief as they got off, deciding not to mention it.
“There are more jewelry stores up here,” she said to Brandon. “One or two ought to have something she’d like.”
“I’m just glad you’re with me,” he replied.
They browsed the windows, comparing items and trying to get a peek at the tiny price tags, which were turned to the blank sides.
“How about that one?” Brandon asked. “She loves that color.”
He was pointing to a turquoise turtle pendant set in silver and strung on a silver chain.
“That’s really nice. Bet she’d love that.”
Tactfully, she didn’t make a guess as to the price. Paula knew Brandon worked odd jobs occasionally, depending on his grades and getting Edith’s permission. If the turtle was too expensive, Paula would make up the difference. Her friend didn’t have to know.
“Let’s go in,” Brandon said, opening the door and holding it for her. He seemed to have already made up his mind. They went to the counter and he made eye contact with the sales associate, a blond woman with a stylish angled haircut.