Roadside Assistance

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Roadside Assistance Page 8

by Marie Harte

She should have joined them, but the beauty outside had drawn her. The snow fell in soft flakes, coating the ground and trees and making it look like a winter wonderland. A full moon bathed the grounds in a blue-white cover, and the stars twinkled against the black night sky.

  Even the cold couldn’t detract from the majesty of the quiet moment.

  “Oh, there you are.”

  Crap. Ella had found her. With no one around to provide a buffer on the back deck, Cyn was doomed.

  “Hi, Mom. Great party.”

  “Isn’t it, though?” Ella laughed and came to stand next to Cyn. She wrapped a slender arm around Cyn’s waist and squeezed. “I’m so glad you’ve come home, honey. I missed you.”

  Cyn started to relax. Maybe her mother had changed. It had been some time since she’d been alone with her.

  Yet five seconds in her mother’s presence and Cyn felt like the overgrown teenager she’d once been, uncomfortable in her big body. Taller than all the boys, filling out before most of her friends, and never as thin or graceful as her mother, no matter what she did.

  “Work is going well?”

  Cyn nodded. “It’s great. Along with the other investments I’ve made, the coffee shop is keeping me happy and financially comfortable, for sure. I like working there.”

  “It’s good for you. Helps you to be around people, I’d imagine. I don’t know how you work so alone all the time. All done through computers and with those businesspeople and meetings in tall buildings.” Ella laughed. “But you’ve made it work. I always knew you were smart.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cyn stepped away from her mom and turned so she could face her. “You look good, Mom. Happy.” She did. Ella stood several inches shorter than Cyn. Her face had begun to wrinkle, but with laugh lines from a life well lived. Her black hair now peppered with silver, it still suited Ella’s pixie-thin face and sparkling brown eyes. She had the build of a dancer, all lean lines and tone. Even at sixty, she exercised and kept herself in shape.

  “I am happy. Your father and I are going on a cruise in February to celebrate our anniversary.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Yep. Our fortieth anniversary.”

  “I know. Matt and I are still trying to figure out what to get you.”

  Ella grinned. “I hinted to Nina I wanted a party.”

  “We can do that.” It would be fun.

  “You can bring Tony with you, if you like. I know it’s about family, but you—”

  “Tony’s nice, but I’m not looking for a boyfriend right now.” Best to nip her mother’s machinations right in the bud.

  “What about Al? He’s smart. You like them smart, don’t you?”

  “Mom, I—”

  Her mother took her by the hand and squeezed. “Oh, Cynthia. You heard all my friends inside earlier. You’re such a pretty girl. You just need to lose a few pounds, and the men will come rolling in. You’ll see.”

  Don’t swear at your mother. Not cool at Christmas, Cyn. In a firm voice, she said, “Mom, I’m happy the way I am.”

  “I noticed you eating a lot of cake and cookies.” Ella frowned. “Are you doing yoga yet? Did you get that video I left for you?”

  “It’s the holidays. I had maybe two cookies and a slice of cake. I also had a fabulous piece of your famous lasagna.” Still trying to keep the peace. Complimenting her mother’s cooking should do the trick.

  “Yes, you should have taken a smaller piece though.” Ella chewed her lower lip. “Didn’t you see the big bowl of salad Ida brought? I asked her to bring something you could eat.”

  Cyn saw red but kept her mouth shut through sheer force of will.

  “I’m worried, sweetie.” Ella rubbed her hand, then let Cyn go. She sighed. “You were so happy with Jon, and then he left you.”

  “I left him,” Cyn corrected, but as usual, Ella seemed not to hear her.

  “It was your weight, you know. Jon and I used to talk about you.”

  “What?”

  “I was concerned. I didn’t want you two to end, but I could tell he was losing interest. The phone calls and visits were more sporadic. And the way he stopped looking at you like you mattered…”

  So Ella had interfered. Cyn had wondered. When she and Jon had parted, he’d said things that sounded as if they’d come straight from Ella’s mouth. Cyn deliberately pushed her mother’s words aside. It was either that or choke the woman.

  “Looks matter, honey,” Ella continued. “You’re smart, but there are smarter women out there. And you’re far from rich. Then add in the fact that you aren’t getting any younger.” Ella sighed. “Your brother has two children—almost teenagers. You’re still not even married.”

  “I could just get pregnant. Why bother with a husband?” Cyn said with false cheer. “Would that make you happy?”

  Ella scowled then said something in Italian Cyn didn’t understand. “What’s wrong with me caring about your future?”

  “Why can’t you be proud of me for what I’ve already done?” Cyn asked her mother as she had so many times over the years. “I’m independent. On my way to being wealthy. I’m happy.” Or at least, I was happy before you cornered me out here. “I’ve got great friends. So what if I’m still single? I don’t understand why my not having a husband is a fate worse than death.”

  “Your aunt—”

  Cyn groaned. “Not Aunt Sharon again. Mom, Aunt Sharon is gone. I know you loved her. But I really don’t think her not having a husband contributed to her death.”

  Her mother wasn’t rational about her deceased sister.

  “Sharon was just like you. She was lonely.” Her mother sighed. “I tried everything I knew to help her. All she wanted was a man, but no man would take her. Then she got sick and had no one to care for her.”

  “Um, it’s a new era, Mom. Women don’t need men to care for them. I—”

  “She had baby fat she never grew out of. So pretty, but so ungainly. Mama tried her best, but so many of the men made fun of her.”

  The perils of growing up in a small provincial town in Italy, even in the twentieth century, apparently. Knowing she was beating her head against a brick wall, Cyn tried again. “All Sharon had to do was move out on her own. Grandma Isabelle was a dictator. You told me that.”

  “I loved her. She was my mother.”

  “Yes. And I love you too.” A hint that her mother and her grandmother had more in common than blood. That overbearing personality had definitely passed through the generations.

  Cyn gave up and leaned down to kiss her mother’s cheek. “I’d better get in and talk to Nina again before I go.” She still had her ace in the hole, and if her mother pushed her too far, Cyn would use it.

  “You really shouldn’t have had that lasagna, Cyn.” Her mother glanced critically at her belly. “But Tony seemed to like you well enough. You should run back to him. What about—”

  “I actually have a date I need to get to.” Her mother’s shock made the revelation worth it. “See you later.” She darted off before her mother could start the inquisition. It had been so satisfying to mention her date with Foley. Telling her Mom made him seem more real. Even if she had no idea what to do about him when they got together. Sex? A relationship? Would he show up tonight, or would he make some excuse not to see her? She could too easily envision him cozying up to some pretty, skinny girl with breasts.

  Only time would tell.

  She heard her mother calling her, dashed through the house for her coat, and ran into Nina. “Nina, I have to go.”

  “Cyn! Honey, hold on a minute.” Her mother was in hot pursuit.

  Cyn chanced a glance back and saw Ella sidelined by her friends.

  “Nina, hold her off for me, would you? I have to go before I do something drastic. Like hang myself from the top of that tree.”

 
Nina commiserated. “Go. I’ll take care of her. Ah, the grandson should do it.”

  Cyn neared the front door after saying good-bye to her dad. She turned to see Nina whispering to Alex, who nodded. He looked over at Cyn, waved, then headed off to hug his grandmother.

  “I love you, Grandma!” he yelled.

  Overdone, but at least he’d taken the attention from Cyn. Nina rolled her eyes and shooed Cyn away.

  She didn’t have to be told twice. Once in the car, Cyn pulled out her phone and texted Foley. Oh, he of the magic hands. Shivering, she typed.

  It was do-or-die time.

  * * *

  When Foley received Cyn’s text, his entire body came to life yet again. He’d been on a roller coaster of highs and lows all night, his time at Ray’s an oblivion as he ignored the guys making fun of him in favor of fantasies about his evening to come.

  “It’s just pathetic.” Lou sighed and downed his beer. “We knew what to expect with Johnny. Lara had his nuts in a vise forever.”

  “I’m going to let that slide.” Johnny tossed a dart and hit the board dead center.

  “Only because it’s true.” Sam grabbed his darts and shoved Johnny aside. Predictably, he didn’t hit anything. “Shit.”

  “But Foley is made of stronger stuff,” Lou continued. “At least, I thought he was. Hey, lovesick, you’re up.”

  Foley shook off a vision of Cyn wearing nothing but an apron as she posed in her kitchen. He forced himself to calm down before standing to take his turn with the darts, noticed the score sheet on the table, and groaned. “Hell, Sam. You’re killing us, you know that?”

  “Whatever. At least I’m here in the game.” Sam frowned. “Not dreaming about my date with the witch.”

  Lou raised his glass. “To Foley and his bruja. May you make sweet magic together.”

  “That was lame.” Sam drained his glass.

  Foley let fly and hit a double twelve. “That’s twenty-four, losers.”

  “Losers?” Johnny raised a brow. “Math is not his strong suit. Um, Foley? Lou and I are already winning by like sixty points.”

  “So? Twenty-four points is still pretty damn good.” And he couldn’t care less. He had a date with a sexy redhead in a half hour.

  “I hate him in a good mood.” Sam glared.

  “You’re just pissy because Shaya’s gone.” Johnny, brave guy, slapped Sam on the shoulder. “I feel you, man. Let me get the next round.” He left, and they watched him flirt with the bartender—who was not his girlfriend.

  Sam shook his head. “Lara must really love him.”

  “Please.” Foley snorted. “He’s only flirting with Rena because he can get away with it.” Rena, the bartender, was Lara’s best friend. She was also Del’s cousin, and though all the guys had wanted to get with her at one time or another, reason prevailed. Screwing with the boss’s family, literally or figuratively, was a damn stupid way to mess up a good thing.

  And anyway, everyone loved Rena. No one wanted to break her heart. She was pretty, bubbly, and an all-around lovely woman. Way too nice for Foley.

  Unlike Cyn.

  Johnny returned, all smiles, with a full pitcher.

  Sam just grunted while Johnny poured.

  “Thanks.” Lou sat back and stared at Foley.

  “What?” Foley said. “Sorry, Lou. I’m taken.”

  Sam snickered.

  Lou turned to him. “You know, Sam, one of these days you and I are going to go head-to-head. I wouldn’t bet on you standing at the end.”

  “Bring it, Lou. For fuck’s sake, make a move already. You have a bad habit of talking everything to death.”

  Foley glanced at Sam, unsure about his mood.

  Lou, fortunately, took Sam in stride. “Don’t worry. I won’t take your shitty attitude personally. Shaya was good for you. Too good for you.” The guys laughed, and Sam relaxed. “But my pity only goes so far. Doesn’t mean you and Foley aren’t going to have to pay for tonight’s rounds. Face it. You guys lost.”

  They looked at the score pad Johnny had tallied.

  “Hell.” Sam blew out a breath. “We never win.”

  “Next time we split the teams,” Foley said. “I get Johnny. Sam, you get Lou. Johnny and I’ll spot you for the handicap.”

  Sam agreed while Lou swore at him.

  Johnny laughed. “You guys are coming tomorrow, right?”

  Lou nodded. “Yeah. Want us to bring something?”

  “Beer or whatever you want to drink. Oh, and I hope you’re not allergic to dogs.” Johnny made a face. “Lara’s fostering one ugly-ass puppy. I think she’s trying to break me into getting a pet.”

  Sam lit up. “Dogs are cool. I knew I liked Lara.”

  Johnny frowned. “Yeah, well, don’t like her too much. She’s mine.”

  “Why not stamp her forehead so everyone knows?” Foley offered, just to needle the guy. “Or piss around her, like dogs do. Mark your territory, Fido.”

  Lou chuckled. “I would pay money to see that. Johnny pissing around the house to keep the competition away. Woman would kick your ass if you tried that.”

  Foley remembered that not too long ago Lara had put a hurt on her gropey ex-brother-in-law. He had to admire a woman who could open up some whoopass. He could easily imagine Cyn doing the same to some guy not worthy of her time. She’d gut him with those killer heels.

  “Just go.” Sam shoved at him. “You’re killing the mood with that dopey grin. It’s embarrassing. Johnny’s about all I can handle at one time.”

  “Hey.” Johnny scowled.

  Foley stood, threw down some bills, then wished everyone a good night. He had some time to kill, but hell, even he realized he was not good company. He couldn’t stop thinking about Cyn. Weird, because he’d dated his share of the ladies over the years. He’d often anticipated a night of good hard fucking. No biggie. It excited him, sure, but not to this degree.

  Lately, because of Cyn, he found it hard to focus on anything but her. His appetite wasn’t what it should be, and he wanted to smile all the time. Definitely unlike him and his cool-as-a-cucumber approach to dating.

  On the drive to her place, he told himself to relax. To try not to act like he was so into her. A woman like Cyn would use anything to her advantage. While he respected that, the very strength that made her so attractive urged caution.

  He pulled up in front of her house and saw the lights on. With nothing but his wits to lose, he locked up his car and stood on her front doorstep. Before he could ring the bell, the door opened.

  “Come on in.” Cyn stepped back, obviously waiting for him.

  Pleased, he entered and felt his nerves return. Get a handle, Sanders. He handed her his jacket and removed his boots, all the while studying her.

  She wore her beautiful hair down, and it lay in straight waves, curling around the tops of her breasts. The button-down green shirt she wore practically begged him to unbutton it, but he told himself to wait, to let her make the moves tonight. She wore a pair of flannel pajama pants with the shirt, as well as fuzzy red-and-green socks. Cute, and not at all the attire of a woman out to seduce a man.

  Maybe tonight wasn’t going to be about sex. Though he should have been more bummed out about that, he was happy just to be with her. A glance into her eyes showed her own wariness. Good to know he wasn’t the only one unsure about things.

  “So do I get to turn in that rain check for the cocoa tonight?”

  Her slow smile warmed him. “Sure.”

  He followed her into the kitchen, unable to help remembering the last time they’d been there together. Shoving his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to jump her, he leaned back against the counter and asked, “So how was the party?”

  She groaned. “We might need something stronger to talk about that.”

  “Th
at bad?”

  “You could say that.” She took out some cookies and placed them on the counter. “Nina made them. Enjoy.”

  “Gingerbread men. Awesome.”

  “Hope you like the decorations. My nephews did them.” Her smile showed she clearly cared for the boys.

  “How old are they?”

  “Alex is ten. Vinnie’s eleven going on twenty.”

  “Coming up on the teenage years. Yikes.”

  “Yeah, and my sneaky brother blackmailed me into watching them one day next week. God help me.”

  He laughed. “Tell me about the party. What was bad about it? I thought you said you were close to your family.”

  “I am. It’s a mother thing. I love her, but she drives me to drink.” She sighed. “My mom’s always been supercritical of me, but she only says or does stuff when no one’s around to hear it.”

  He frowned. “That’s not cool.”

  “She means well, but she doesn’t understand the stuff she says is hurtful. My family thinks I make too big a deal about it.” She shrugged. “Maybe they’re right. She and I have been butting heads since I was little.”

  “My mom and I are tight, but I’m her little boy.”

  “Little?” Her once-over made him laugh.

  “To her, always. Mothers and sons share a special bond. Like fathers and daughters, or so I’m told.”

  “That’s true. My dad is awesome and supersweet to me, while my mom definitely has a soft spot for Matt. She’s also big on marriage and babies.” Cyn made a face. “And pleasing men. I’m a disappointment because I didn’t marry at eighteen and have fourteen kids by now.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I know she loves me, but the woman drives me nuts.” Then she changed the subject so fast she about gave him whiplash. “Look, Foley, I’m always going to be big. Six feet tall, and never mind about my weight.”

  He’d learned his lesson on that score. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She huffed. “I’ve starved myself. Exercised to death. Gone on a bazillion diets. Nothing works. This is me.” She waved at her body, her tone aggressive. “I’m not going to change.”

  “I get it.”

  “Do you?” She ran a hand through her hair, and he wanted to comfort her, to tell her he didn’t give a rat’s ass what anyone said. She was beautiful. But she’d obviously been dealing with the issue for a long time. “I’m telling you this because my last boyfriend heard the same lecture, then proceeded to try to change me. And before you ask, I was the same at the beginning as I was at the end of our relationship.

 

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