by Arlene James
“If he’d have just given the money to me in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to do it!” Tawny wailed. “He’s got plenty!”
Johnson Ward sighed and addressed himself to Darren. “Please accept my apologies, Mr. Rudell. I really thought, I mean, given your reputation, that there was some substance to Ms. Beekman’s claims.”
Darren shook his head. “You’re not to blame. My lifestyle would have given that same impression to anyone not in a position to know otherwise.” His gaze went straight to Charly again. “I’ve made some positive changes in that area.”
“That doesn’t mean we won’t be seeking restitution for legal expenses,” Walter Anselm warned.
“Yes, it does,” Darren contradicted. “It was never about the money.”
“In that case,” Charly said, pleased with this turn of events, “if Ms. Beekman makes a statement to the press that Darren is undeserving of the claims she’s made against him, I’ll recommend we forgo the extortion charges, as well.”
Tawny paled at the suggestion of criminal charges. Johnson Ward got to his feet, saying, “If she doesn’t make that statement, I will.” Deflated, Tawny slumped forward. “The suit will be dropped tomorrow,” he added, hauling her to her feet.
He dragged her from the room bawling, while the partners crowded around Darren congratulating him. Charly stood and looked around, feeling slightly disoriented and ragged with exhaustion. Knowing that she was anxious to get home to Ponce, Helen waved her toward the door with a congratulatory smile. Charly nodded, deciding that it was best to slip away while everyone else was otherwise occupied. She needed to sleep and then to think. She was almost out the door when she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to look up into the face of Richard Pratt.
“Good job, Counselor.”
His was not the face she had hoped to see, but in that quiet praise, she finally heard acceptance. “Thank you,” she said, walking away.
Charly stretched and sleepily ruffled a hand through her hair as she walked through the quiet house in her pajamas. She’d been almost too tired to spend a few moments with Ponce and her grandmother before trundling off to bed for a nap. Three hours later she was feeling somewhat better. She could have slept much longer, but she had promised her son that they’d have lunch and the afternoon together. Charly’s stomach rumbled in anticipation of the meal.
Lunch preparations, however, were not under way in the kitchen as expected, which was as deserted as the dining room, Ponce’s bedroom and the family room when Charly trailed through them, yawning. When she wandered into the formal living room, however, she found someone waiting there.
He was sitting on the couch, elbows braced upon his knees, hands entwined patiently. Charly’s heart thudded as he rose to his feet.
“Delphina and Ponce have gone to the grocery store. I didn’t say anything to Ponce,” he added quickly, “about what’s been going on, I mean. It was good to see him, though.” Darren rubbed his palms against his thighs, betraying a certain nervousness that she found endearing. “He seemed glad to see me.”
“I imagine he was,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. The soft knit pajamas could not be called alluring or revealing by any stretch of the imagination, but they were sleepwear and as such brought the glaring notion of bed, and all that could transpire there, into the moment. Still, she didn’t suggest that she ought to go change.
“Thank you for today,” he said suddenly.
She shook her head. “Helen deserves more credit than I do. She’s the one who came up with the audio tape. I think she said that you mentioned it.”
He nodded. “I didn’t really think anything of it, but when Helen brought up the video I remembered a conversation I’d had with a young couple in the elevator one day about possible audio taping. I never actually dreamed that a recording had been made of my argument with Tawny.”
“Good thing for you that it was.”
He smiled wanly. “Yeah. That’s not why I’m here, though.”
Charly could feel her heart beating. “Why are you here?”
“Because I love you.”
Tears immediately welled in her eyes. “Darren,” she whispered, knowing she didn’t want to fight her feelings any longer.
“Charly, I’d have told you,” he said quickly. “I swear to God, I was planning to tell you my real name when Tawny hit me with that stupid suit. I was planning, in fact, to buy a ring, confess all, and ask you to marry me.”
She was unaware that she was moving until she was within reach. “Tell me again why you lied to me.”
He lifted his hands to her shoulders. “I was afraid. I knew you’d run from a man like D. K. Rudell, and I was tired of him, Charly, so tired of him. I didn’t realize how much. Deep inside, I wanted a chance to be different, and somehow I knew that you were my chance, maybe my only chance.”
“Why me?” she asked. “I’m not like those other women, Darren.”
“No, you’re not,” he said. “You’re real. Your beauty is real, everything about you is real. You’re the best person I know, Charly, the sweetest, dearest, most conscientious. You’re a good lawyer, Charly, a good mother. You’ll be a good wife.”
“My first husband didn’t think so.”
“That loser was outclassed, and he knew it, Charly. I suspect even you know it. I talked to Delphina. She says you settled for him because you wanted a family. I want a family, too, Charly, but I’m not willing to settle for anything but the best—whether I deserve it or not—and that’s you.”
Charly bit her lip to keep from answering his crooked smile with one of her own. “I don’t honestly know if I have time to be a good wife, Darren,” she admitted. “My law practice is important. Maybe it doesn’t bring in a lot of money, but that doesn’t matter to me.”
“I know that, sweetheart. Believe it or not, it isn’t particularly important to me, either, but it just so happens that I’ve managed to make a lot of it, and money does solve some problems. It can do a great deal of good in the right hands, and I’m thinking those hands belong to a certain crusading-lawyer-hot-shot-soccer-coach who already holds my heart. Texas is a community property state.”
Charly chuckled, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I know.”
He cupped her face. “Marry me, sweetheart. Give me a son and as many more kids as you want. Fight your good wars and champion every lost cause that comes our way. But, uh, leave the coaching to me. I think your talents are best used on the sidelines. You’re the ultimate soccer mom, you know.”
She laughed and, blinking away the tears, quipped, “How do you feel about T-ball?”
“I love T-ball,” he said, putting his forehead to hers. “How does our son feel about it?”
Our son.
She closed her eyes and said shakily, “I do love you, Darren Keith Rudell.”
He slid his arms around her. “Does that mean what I hope it means?”
She opened her eyes and speared him with a certain look. “It means that I am going to rescue you from a wasted life of beautiful women, empty sex and outrageous behavior.”
He grinned. “You have my eternal gratitude, Ms. Bellamy, or will have as soon as I can call you Mrs. Rudell.”
“Shut up and kiss me, you fool.”
He was doing just that and a very commendable job of it, too, when a cleared throat warned them that they were no longer alone. Charly turned within the warm confines of her future husband’s arms to find her grandmother smiling and Ponce literally bouncing up and down.
“Well?” he squeaked, raising his eyebrows at Darren. “Did she say yes?”
“She did,” Charly answered.
“So did I,” he told her proudly.
“So did you?” she responded in some confusion.
“Sure,” he said, folding his arms in satisfaction, “he asked me to marry him, too.”
Charly tilted her head back to look up at Darren.
“How else is a guy supposed to be sure he’s getting the wh
ole package?” he asked with a wink and a shrug.
“Quite right,” she said with mock severity as Ponce ran toward them.
“We’re gonna be a whole fam’ly now, aren’t we?” he said, throwing his arms around their legs. Darren stooped and lifted him up.
“We sure are,” he said.
“We was a real fam’ly before,” Ponce explained, “me and Mama and Granna Pheldina, but now we’re a whole one, isn’t that so, Granna?”
“That’s exactly right,” Delphina said with a pleased laugh.
“Whole and growing,” Charly said, turning to lay her head upon Darren’s shoulder and take her son’s hand in her own. Darren bowed his head and found her mouth with his. Her doubts—about all of them—were forever put to rest, and her every dream was finally coming true. Who would have predicted that this wealthy playboy could fall in love with the ultimate soccer mom? Her mind flew back over that day she’d walked into Dave’s shop looking for a handout, and it occurred to her with a large degree of mirthful wonder that she was actually kissing that brilliant person who had thought up Retail Staff Appreciation Day, just as she’d wanted to. And she always would.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-5337-0
THE MAN WITH THE MONEY
Copyright © 2002 by Deborah Rather
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*This Side of Heaven