by Various
“Actually, I think I am. I hired him to do some landscaping for me and he’s come over the last couple of weekends. I’ll tell you, that kid is a hard worker.”
“Landscaping?” she repeated, her brow furrowing. And it hit her. Her smile broadened. “You big softie.” She dangled her ungloved fingers in the middle of the box. Wayne’s nose twitched, but he didn’t move from the corner.
“What?”
“Your yard is perfectly fine as is, John, and you know it. You’re inventing things for him to do, aren’t you?”
His answering chuckle sounded sheepish. “Well, I had to figure out some way to keep him occupied. They’ve done studies that kids who have hobbies are much less likely to join gangs—”
“Like I said,” she interrupted. “You’re a big softie.” She pictured John’s self-deprecating grin. “So, you guys are becoming buddies, eh?” She scratched a fingernail against the cardboard. Wayne took a tentative step toward her hand.
“I wouldn’t go that far, but we’re definitely getting to know each other. He feels like my little brother.”
She grinned, happy he was making progress with Brian, knowing how much it meant to him.
After more catching up, he asked, “Are you coming to the game with us?”
She closed her eyes. She wanted to see him, but she didn’t think she could face him and not feel all warm and fuzzy inside. With the way her hormones had been acting up, she’d probably blubber all over him and make a fool out of herself. Until she was sure she could maintain her composure around him, she needed to keep her distance. “I don’t think that would be too smart.”
“You’re probably right.” They were both silent. “This really sucks, Sam.”
She sighed. “Yeah. I know.” But they both knew there was no other way.
“I miss you.”
His words twisted deep into her soul. “I miss you, too.”
She hung up the phone, feeling empty and alone. Something soft brushed her fingers. Glancing down, she saw Wayne had moved from his corner. He stared at her, his nose twitching double time.
Tears stung her eyes. “You know you’re pathetic when the only male in your life is a rat.” Wayne licked her finger.
Chapter 17
She was going to see John tonight.
Her stomach fluttered at the thought. She hadn’t seen his face since she’d told him she was pregnant.
She was attending a fundraiser for the youth center this evening. A Black and White Ball, according to the invitation John sent. She hadn’t actually planned to go and had told him just that when she’d RSVP’d. It was the whole “playing with fire” thing again. But as the event drew near, she realized she wanted to see him. She was an adult and could handle it.
She glanced at the clock on her night stand. The cab would be here in ten minutes. Her mother better not be late. Although Evelyn Rossi drove her nuts more often than not, an elegant night on the town would be good for both of them.
Checking her appearance in the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door, she hoped the low neckline of her dress and the thigh-high slit would distract from the slight protrusion of her belly. She turned to the side. Fourteen weeks along and she was already showing.
Evelyn didn’t bother knocking when she arrived. She swept her eyes over Sam and tsked, tsked under her breath. “A little over-dressed aren’t we?”
“It’s a ball, Mom.” At least she wasn’t wearing a crocheted shawl that had gone out of style when— heck, when had crochet ever been in style except on blue-haired, eighty-year-old grandmothers?
“A black and white ball.” Evelyn pointed at Sam’s dress. “That’s red.”
Sam glanced at herself as if she’d forgotten the color of her gown. “I don’t have a black or white dress that fits. And I didn’t want to shell out good money for something I’d wear only once.”
Evelyn frowned and tugged on Sam’s low neckline. “It’s improper for a pregnant woman to dress so provocatively.”
Sam glanced at the dress again. It wasn’t so provocative. Still, it showed her cleavage, something her mother had never and would never approve of.
“Mom, just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I have to dress like a frump.”
“Your breasts are practically falling out.”
“Oh, they are not.” Well, maybe they were. Pregnancy had increased her bust size significantly since buying the dress.
“As you’ve told me many times, you’re not looking for a man.” Evelyn tugged upward on the neckline again. “That’s why you went through a sperm bank to get pregnant, which by the way, I still do not understand.” She stepped away, sizing up her daughter like a painter would her canvas. “I’ve stopped trying to understand why you dress the way you do, but you’re a pregnant woman now, honey. You should act like one.”
Sam rolled her eyes and kept quiet. Thankfully, the cab arrived, honking from the parking lot. But the change of venue didn’t deter Evelyn. The lectures continued all the way into downtown Seattle. Sam was admonished about her clothing, her career, her condo, whatever came to mind. She periodically caught the sympathetic glance of the driver in the rearview mirror.
The Yellow Cab dropped them off at the entrance to the enormous Columbia Tower. Sam tilted her head back and looked up. She couldn’t see the top of the tower as it disappeared into the darkening gray skies of this mild June evening.
John was up there somewhere.
A funny tingle flittered through her belly. She told herself it was just the baby, although she knew it was probably too early to feel it kick.
They rode the elevator to the top floor along with two other couples. The men wore the standard black and white tuxedos and the women were dressed in like colors. One was in a sequined black dress too snug for the matronly figure beneath, and the other wore similarly fitted white. Evelyn nudged Sam in the side with her elbow then directed her remarks to the other women. “My daughter’s pregnant,” she said in a loud, conspiratorial whisper. “None of her black or white dresses fit.”
Sam rolled her eyes. Like those women cared. She smiled wanly.
Sounds of a jazz band filtered into the elevator car right before its doors opened. The group spilled into the ballroom. The two other couples disappeared into the large crowd. Sam touched her mother’s sleeve. “Mom, please stop commenting on my red dress. No one cares. Trust me. Besides, there’ll be other women in colors other than black and white. It’s not like it’s a ‘rule’ or anything.”
Her mother made a show of glancing around the ballroom. “Where? All I see is black and white. That’s all I see. Black and white. Nothing else. People will think you wore red on purpose, to attract attention.”
Sam saw that her mother was right — about the color scheme. She wouldn’t tell her mom so, but she was also right about Sam wanting to attract attention. She did have something else to wear, something black. But the red dress looked better on her and she wanted to attract John’s attention. She wanted him to get that lustful look in his eyes when he saw her. The one where his blue eyes turned dark as midnight and his eyebrows took on that sexy, arrogant slant. She wanted to see she still was attractive to him. She already felt like a fat, pregnant woman. She needed to be assured that she didn’t look like one. Yet.
Her gaze searched the crowded ballroom. She saw some faces she recognized, many she did not, but no sign of John. The room was filled to capacity with the glittery presence of Seattle’s elite. Someone had done a superb marketing job. She recognized the mayor, several professional athletes and many other local celebrities.
Noticing the bar on the left wall, she touched her mother’s arm. “Come on, Mom. Let’s get something to drink.”
They wove their way through the crowd and approached the bar. Sam was about to order when her mom blurted, “I’ll have a Chablis and my daughter will have a ginger ale with lime. She’s pregnant, you know, and can’t have alcohol.”
“Mom,” Sam grumbled under her breath.
“Will you quit offering to everyone that I’m pregnant?”
“Why? Are you embarrassed for people to know you’re pregnant and unmarried? Maybe you should have thought about that before you went to the sperm bank.” She said it loud enough for people around them to hear. Sam groaned inwardly. Thank God she hadn’t told her mom the real story. She’d be screaming from the rafters that John was the father.
“No, Mom, I’m not embarr—”
“Hey, Rossi, is that you?”
Sam turned at the deep male voice, thankful for the interruption. She had to crank her neck to look up at Darwin Tooch. “Hey, Dar. I’m glad you could make it.”
The lanky man shrugged. “It’s a great cause. Too many of my friends from the old neighborhood ended up in gangs. This center is a great idea.”
Sam touched her mother’s sleeve. “Mom, this is Darwin Tooch. Dar, this is my mom, Evelyn Rossi.”
Darwin’s huge black hand enveloped Evelyn’s at the introduction.
After some small talk, Darwin started off, walking backward. He said to Sam, “Save a dance for me, hot stuff.”
She smiled and waved him off. She turned to find her mother scowling at her. “What?”
“He’s a black man, Samantha.”
“He is?” She did her best duh expression.
“And he’s half your age. It’s not proper.”
“Mom, Dar and I are just friends.” Her mother snorted under her breath. “And by the way, Darwin plays for the Seattle Sharks. I thought you might recognize him. He’s practically a household name.”
Evelyn accepted their drinks from the bartender. “Of course I recognized him. I’m not completely ignorant.”
“Why so hostile?”
“I just didn’t care for him. He kept looking down your dress.”
“It’s hard not to when you’re nearly seven feet tall. Plus he’s twenty-two years old, at his sexual prime. He was probably looking down your dress, too.”
Evelyn’s expression turned horrified and she pulled the ugly crocheted shawl tighter around her chest.
Sam’s gaze wandered the ballroom. Spotting Alex’s shiny bald head in a group of people near the dance floor, she led her mom that direction.
Alex’s back was to them as they approached. He stood with a tall, attractive black woman and a short, stocky older man. Next to them was a group of kids from the SCHS program, including Brian. Sam almost didn’t recognize the boy. The shaved head was gone. His hair was about two inches long and was a light, curly brown. His body had filled out a bit and his face was more relaxed, even though he looked pretty uncomfortable in his tuxedo.
Knowing how long Alex could ramble, Sam interrupted by putting her hand on his sleeve. He turned and peered at her, surprise registering on his dark face. His white teeth gleamed as he smiled. “Sam, hi. I didn’t think you were coming tonight.” He glanced over her head, his gaze darting the room.
“Well, you know what they say about a woman’s prerogative.” She introduced Alex to her mother.
He shook Evelyn’s hand then introduced the people with him. He put his arm around the woman’s waist. “This is Zoey Ward and Hank Hardy. John may have told you about Hank,” he said to Sam. “He’s the guy who turned our lives around at the boys’ home. A real miracle worker.”
Hank Hardy took the compliment in stride and greeted Sam and Evelyn as did Zoey. As Hank shook Evelyn’s hand, he said, “You’re this young lady’s mother? I would never have guessed it if I hadn’t heard it with my own ears.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose. She waited for her mom to guffaw at the corny line. Instead, Evelyn blushed like a school girl. “Why, Mr. Hardy. You flatter an old lady.”
My God. Her mom was flirting. Alex’s voice turned her attention back to him.
“And I believe you’ve met the kids,” he said, nodding to the sullen group of teens, all looking about as uncomfortable as Brian.
Sam greeted them warmly, complimenting them on their handsome attire. Brian blushed and didn’t quite meet her eyes. He was probably remembering their last meeting and the rude words he’d said to her.
She turned an amused glance to Alex. “Has John arrived yet? I haven’t seen him.” She hoped her tone sounded nonchalant.
“Uh, yeah. He’s here. Did he, uh, know you were coming?” he asked, sweeping his gaze across the room again. He seemed a little edgy, which was odd. Every other time she’d seen him, he’d been self-assured and confident, rather like John.
“Alex, is something wrong?”
He met her eyes and looked surprised by her question. “What? Oh. No. I’m fine. Although, I’d rather be wearing sweats.” He laughed his goofy chuckle and tugged at his collar. “These damn penguin suits, you know.”
She saw the way his arm fell from Zoey’s waist. Maybe this was a new relationship and he was a little nervous. She turned to Zoey. “So how do you know Alex?”
Zoey smiled and started on a story about how Alex and John had come to the school where she taught home economics to speak to the kids about staying out of gangs. Sam had a hard time focusing on the woman’s words because Alex was tenser than a lead pipe.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His smile looked stilted. Suddenly his eyes focused on something over Sam’s head. “Excuse me, Zoey, but um, Sam? I think I should tell you something.”
“What?” She swiveled around and saw John’s shock of dark blond hair bobbing through the crowd, moving toward them. In another moment his whole body came into view. A wave of pleasure coursed through her. He looked great. His tuxedo was perfectly cut to accentuate his physique in such a way that she felt funny little quivers in her stomach. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed seeing him. She’d almost forgotten how powerfully handsome he was. She smiled and lifted her hand in a wave as he glanced their way. His face registered surprise and something else she couldn’t quite interpret. He didn’t look at all happy to see her. In fact, he looked—
Her smile froze. Clinging to John’s side like a blood-sucking leech was an attractive blond. And his arm was around her. No wonder Alex was so uncomfortable.
John had a date.
Chapter 18
Queasiness swept through Sam. Somehow she controlled her smile. Beside her, Alex murmured, “That’s what I wanted to tell you.”
She glanced up at him, purposefully puzzled. “What? You mean that John’s here with someone?”
“Well, yeah.” He tugged on his collar. “I, uh, thought it might be a bit awkward, you know, since you and John were— I mean, since you guys used to—”
She forced a laugh and touched Alex’s forearm. “I have no claim on John. He’s free to go out with whomever he chooses.” She turned to greet John and his date. “Hi,” she said, glad she sounded so pleasant and calm.
She did a quick once-over of the woman: young, tall, blue eyes, pretty face, fabulous figure, bleached blond hair, fake tan, fake boobs. The kind of woman that made men loony and women gag. John probably got her name from a bathroom stall at his gym.
“Sam,” John said, stopping in front of her. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
Obviously. “I changed my mind.”
He nodded and cleared his throat. He motioned to the woman at his side, the woman who looked like she had halved grapefruits inserted under the skin at chest level. Did men truly find those kind of implants attractive? “Sam, this is Dusty O’Hara. Dusty, this is Sam Rossi.” He cleared his throat again. “Sam writes for The Statesman. She’s given the center some great press with her articles.”
Dusty openly appraised her, her steely blue gaze sweeping Sam’s figure. The smugness of her gaze when she finished said she apparently didn’t see Sam as much competition. Yeah, well, at least my boobs are real! And what kind of a name was ‘Dusty’, anyway?
John asked Sam, “Did you come here alone?”
“No.” She was pleased to see his eyes darken with what might be jealousy. “I came with my mom.” His mouth relax
ed into an easy grin. Sam motioned to Evelyn, who was still speaking with Hank Hardy. “Mom, come over here a sec. I want to introduce you to someone.”
While her mom and John made polite small talk, Sam couldn’t help noticing how Dusty had wrapped both tanned arms around his waist underneath his jacket, all the while glaring at Sam with daggers in her ice blue eyes. Sam felt sick to her stomach. Did the woman have to hang all over him? This wasn’t a high school prom. Of course, John must not mind too much as he wasn’t extracting himself from the leech’s grasp.
Sam’s breathing shallowed. She was going to hyperventilate if she didn’t get out of here soon, away from the lovebirds. She may not have claims to John, but she certainly couldn’t stomach seeing him with another woman. She tried to think of a graceful way to extract herself from this cozy group. She glanced around for Darwin. She’d promised him a dance, but she didn’t see him. Alex had a date. Who else could she dance with? Hmm. Brian! He stood alone a few feet away. She excused herself from the group, making no eye contact with either John or bimbo, and headed toward the young man.
Stepping in front of him, she asked, “How about a dance?” His eyes blinked wide. “That is, if you’re not embarrassed to dance with an older woman.”
His lips twitched into a half smile. “Okay, but I’m not a good dancer,” he mumbled.
“Neither am I,” she said, grabbing his arm. She ignored his slight resistance and pulled him toward the dance floor. The poor kid would probably rather do anything besides dance, but she didn’t care. She needed to get away from John. She blinked away the burning sensation behind her eyelids.
Once on the dance floor, she showed Brian where to put his hands and made sure their bodies were a respectable distance apart. He was a teenager after all.
“You’re right,” she said after a few strains of the music. “You’re not a good dancer.” At the boy’s startled look, she giggled. “I’m kidding. You’re doing just fine.” A few moments later, she said, “John tells me you two have been spending a lot of time together.”