Expecting the Best (Harlequin Superromance)

by Lynnette Kent

  D. Don’t tell her.

  “He’s good-looking and genuinely nice.” her mother continued.

  “And I’m very pregnant.”

  “What does that have to do with anything? Are you swearing off men?”

  Tell her. “Doesn’t that seem like a good idea, considering my track record?”

  “You’ve had bad luck, and you’ve made some bad choices. That doesn’t mean you’re doomed to spend your life alone.”

  “You have.” Don’t.

  “For the simple reason that I loved your father and I’ve never met another man who could change the way I felt. If I had…well, I might have married him.”

  Tell her “How could you still love a man who deserted you and your baby?” On second thought, she wished she’d left that question unasked. She didn’t want to hear her mother’s answer…or her own.

  “Your father never made me any promises. And I always knew he would leave when the time came. I chose to have his daughter in my life, and I’ve never regretted that decision.”

  “Do you know where he is?” Why ask now? What did any of this matter?

  “I don’t keep track. Every so often, I’ll see his name somewhere. But I don’t bother him. He’d come back if he wanted to, if he could.”

  “If he wanted to.” Zach said he wanted to—but wouldn’t the whole situation just be worse if they actually made promises?

  Her mother couldn’t answer a question Shelley wouldn’t ask.

  “He’s the one who missed out,” Dorothy said instead. “But enough of this digression. Are you going to help Zach with his sister?”

  Last petal. Don’t. Shelley flipped the pencil across the room. “I don’t see what I can do.”

  “Talk to the girl, Shelley. Tell her about your business, about high school and college. Let her into your life. You could be a big sister to her.”

  Suspicion reared its head. “She already has sisters. Did Zach put you up to this?”

  “Up to what? I’ve got to run, honey. Call me later this week. Bye.”

  Shelley stared for a full minute at the phone whining in her hand. She had the distinct impression she’d just been outsmarted.

  That feeling increased on Tuesday night when she opened her door to the man outside. “Now what?”

  Zach held up a shopping bag. “Just delivering your videos.”

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or curse. “I didn’t call for videos.”

  “Sure you did. I distinctly heard you ask for Hepburn and Tracy. So here I am.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I brought ice cream.” He held up another bag. “And butterscotch sauce.”

  The laugh escaped. “I give up. Come on in.”

  “I don’t even have to mention the whipped cream?”

  Shelley left him standing on the threshold. “It’s chilly out there. Close the door.”

  She headed for the kitchen but heard him stop a few steps behind her. “What’s this?”

  Without even turning around, she knew what he’d found on the table by the stairs. Relaxing her hands, she kept her back to him and her voice light. “A printout of the sonogram I had done.”

  “This is the baby?”

  “Yes.”

  Zach was quiet. Shelley turned around to see him holding the picture up to the light, his eyes intently focused.

  “You can see arms and legs.”

  She nodded. “And a shadow of the face. Not very clear, though.”

  He studied the photo some more. “Do you—” Whatever the question was, he didn’t finish it. Putting the picture down where he found it, he walked into the hallway. “Amazing what they can do with technology these days, isn’t it?”

  “A little scary, but definitely amazing. Now what about that ice cream?” If he could recover, so could she.

  They watched two of the old movies from seats on opposite ends of the couch, bowls full of butterscotch sundae in hand. Zach got up as the last credits rolled. “Good stuff. Too bad they don’t make many movies like that these days.”

  “There are still a few.” Shelley put her hand over a yawn. “But they’re outnumbered by the action-packed, blow-everything-to-bits contingent.”

  The tape started to rewind. When she risked a glance in his direction, Zach stood by the television, watching her with a question in his eyes.

  Wide awake now, Shelley sat up straight. “What? What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing.” When he came closer, she picked up their bowls and started toward the kitchen. Zach followed, but stopped on the other side of the counter. “Did you talk to your mom?”

  “Yes.” She rinsed the dishes and opened the dishwasher. “Sounds like I’ve been drafted to deal with your sister.”

  “Well…maybe. Though if you really don’t want to, that’s okay.” He shrugged and headed back to the TV, ejected the tape and put it in the case. “I’d better get home. Tomorrow’s shift starts early.”

  Before she could collect her objections, he’d gone into the front of the house. He would leave, taking no for an answer. Finally.

  Except that she was chasing after him. “Zach? Zach? Zach!” She caught him at the front door as he shrugged into his leather jacket. “You are the most manipulative man I’ve ever met.”

  He turned, with a serious look on his face and a laugh in his eyes. “Really?”

  She didn’t bother to answer. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Well…”

  “Come on. Get it out. And then get out.”

  He grinned. “I had this idea that you could let Carol come to work with you one day.”

  Shelley crossed her arms above the baby. “Of course you did. I guess I’m supposed to act like a mentor, gain her confidence, point out the error of her ways?” As if she had any right to criticize someone else’s mistakes.

  “Nah. Just tell her about how you got started, give her a look at how successful you’ve become. She’ll get the point without being hit over the head. ’Night!”

  He left quickly, closing the door before she could come up with an answer. Shelley went into the living room and opened the curtains on the big picture window in time to see the Trans Am back out of the driveway. Zach gave her a wave as he roared away.

  “I’m the one who should be hit over the head,” she muttered, “for ever thinking I could escape untouched from a relationship with you!”

  THE NEXT SATURDAY, Zach walked in on Carol at breakfast. “You’ve got thirty minutes, kid. Better get hopping.”

  She gazed at him with sleepy eyes. “Thirty minutes for what?”

  “I’m taking you to meet a friend of mine, remember? You’re going to work with her today.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Is this Take Your Sister to Work week?”

  “This is the Come-with-me-or-spend-the-whole-day-cleaning-closets program.” He sat down and grabbed a piece of her toast. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s stupid.”

  “Well, if you like cleaning closets…”

  “I suppose you want me to dress up.”

  He grinned. “You’ve always been a bright girl!”

  She took fifty minutes, but the effect was worth the wait. She came down the stairs in a black suit jacket and black pants, wearing makeup only a little extreme around the eyes, a little too dark on the lips. Her hair had been tamed into a clip on her neck, and she’d washed the green out of her bangs. Though her fingernails were still black, Zach figured he could live with that.

  “You look really nice.” He got to his feet and folded the newspaper neatly, the way his dad had required. “Businesslike.”

  Carol scowled. “Thanks.”

  Their mother bustled into the room carrying a basket of laundry. “You’re sure this person will take care of Carol?”

  “I’m sure, Mom. She’ll be back safe and sound before dinner. Relax.” Zach kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you make this person do her own laundry, like I did?”

&n
bsp; He took the basket and ran it upstairs to the spare room, then came back to find his mother glaring at his sister. “You should have clean hands for work. Go take that stuff off your nails.”

  The teenager stuck out her lower lip. “My hands are clean. I’m not taking off the polish.”

  “Okay, okay.” He stepped between them and gave each a gentle shove, pushing them apart. “Mom, the nail polish will pass. Carol, don’t speak to your mother like that.”

  She looked down at the floor without comment. His mother hmmphed. “Of all my children, the youngest is the most troublesome. If her father knew…”

  “If Dad knew, he’d still be here and maybe you’d have something to do besides pick on me!” Carol spat out the words, turned on her heel and stalked out of the house.

  Zach looked at his mother. “Are you okay?”

  Nodding, she waved him out the door. “After ten of you, I’m used to temper tantrums. We all miss your father. I hope she comes back in a better mood.”

  AFTER A SHORT RIDE, Zach parked on the curb at the front door to Shelley’s office building. Carol stared up at the marble-faced tower with her mouth open. “Wow.”

  “Pretty nice, yes? Her office is on the second floor. Let’s go.”

  She turned his way. “You don’t have to come with me.”

  “I know, but I will anyway.” He wanted to make sure Carol went where she was supposed to. And he wanted to see Shelley.

  She was standing by the reception desk and looked up as they walked through the door. “There you are. I was wondering if I should send out the cavalry. Hi, Zach.”

  “Hi.” Did the lady ever look less than great? His blood pumped faster at the sight of her. “Let me introduce my sister. Shelley Hightower, this is Carol Harmon.”

  Shelley put out her hand. “Hi, Carol. I’m glad to meet you.” Her smile was friendlier than professional.

  “Me, too.” Carol had flushed a bright red. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  “No problem. I’m just finishing up here. I’ll be right with you.”

  Zach saluted Carol and executed an about-face. His sneakers squeaked on the marble floor.

  “Zach, wait a minute.”

  He turned around again. Shelley had stepped forward, away from the desk. The book she held against her chest and the drape of her bright blue dress emphasized the increasing roundness of her figure. His mind flashed on to that sonogram picture—the little arms and legs, the barest impression of a nose and eyes and lips. A baby. His baby.

  Zach took a deep breath. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’ll bring Carol home. What time should I have her back?”

  “Mom’s expecting her for dinner, if that’s okay. If not, just call her and let her know when you’ll be there.”

  “Sounds good.” She changed her right hand for her left on the book she carried. The damn wedding ring winked at him.

  “Great” He bit his tongue on everything else he wanted to say. “See you later, Carol.”

  Shelley lifted her eyebrows in surprise. Zach knew he was being too abrupt, but rudeness was preferable to losing his cool over a stupid ring. Maybe taking the stairs to the ground floor would help.

  Not much, unfortunately. Behind the wheel of the Trans Am again, he sat for a minute, tapping out a drum riff on the steering wheel with all ten fingers and both palms. He had three hours before work. He’d thought about shooting some hoops in the meantime. But now…

  Instead of heading home, he pulled into the parking lot of a small downtown jeweler.

  “Zach, my friend!” The owner came around the end of the counter. “Great to see you. What can I do for you today? Pearls? I’ve got some beautiful earrings in pearls. A nice brooch for your mother—her birthday’s soon, isn’t it?”

  “You’re right, Louis. Just a few weeks. But that’s not what I’m here for today—or at least, not right now.”

  “What, then?”

  “Rings, Louis. I want to look at wedding rings.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  HALFWAY THROUGH HIS Saturday night shift, Zach took an early dinner break and stopped in at the Indigo.

  Jimmy looked up from polishing the bar. “Did I call the cops?”

  Zach slipped onto a stool. “I keep tabs on the lowlifes in this area. That’s my job. Can I have a sandwich?”

  “Sure.” Jimmy disappeared around the corner into the kitchen. “Roast beef and smoked cheddar,” he said when he came back. “And fries.”

  “Sounds good.” The place was empty, except for the two of them. Zach twirled the icy glass of soda Jimmy had poured, watching circles of water form on the shiny wood of the bar.

  Eventually, Jimmy said, “How’s it going?”

  The truth or just…the usual? Zach opted for truth. “Pretty good. Town’s been kinda quiet lately. Not that I’m asking for an exciting crime, you understand. I like my evenings free.”

  “You still seeing Shelley?”

  “Yeah, some.” He drew designs in the circles of moisture he’d created.

  “How’s that turning out?”

  His wet fingertip traced a lopsided star on the bar. “Not as good as I hoped.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Zach realized he could use exactly what Jimmy offered—a friendly ear. “She’s had some back luck. Her defenses are pretty strong.”

  “My impression of the lady tells me she’s worth the extra effort.”

  “Sure. But there are complications.”

  Jimmy chuckled. “Aren’t there always? Like what?”

  “A baby.” He put a square around the star.

  “A—” The other man ran a hand over his hair. “That’s a hell of a complication.”

  “Tell me about it. Then try convincing a gun-shy divorcée that you’re Mr. Dependable.”

  “Anything I can do?”

  After another long pause, Zach took the plunge. “Actually, I need a favor.”

  “You got it.” Jimmy hung a stemmed highball glass in the overhead rack and picked up another one to polish. This time he didn’t look Zach’s way, which made things easier.

  “I’d like you to keep this for me.” Zach took the ring box out of his pocket and slid it down the bar. “That safe of yours is better than Fort Knox.”

  Jimmy finished polishing the glass before he picked up the box. “Sure thing. I’ll be right back.” His uneven footsteps echoed through the quiet room.

  Even after he returned from the club office, bringing the roast-beef sandwich with him, Jimmy didn’t ask questions. Zach knew he didn’t have to volunteer an explanation. If he left it like this, his privacy would stay intact.

  He’d almost made up his mind to say something, though, when his radio squawked against his hip. “All units, report of a disturbance, 322 Eighth Street.”

  Zach responded with his number. “On my way.” He grabbed a last bite of his sandwich and slid to his feet. “Gotta go.”

  “Watch your back,” Jimmy advised.

  “Sure.” But at the doorway, he looked over at the man who was closer, in many ways, than a brother to him. “If something happens to me…”

  Jimmy kept polishing.

  “Would you take that box to Shelley? The ring is hers, I just haven’t gotten around to…giving it to her yet.”

  Shaking his head, Jimmy eyed an imaginary speck on the glass he held. “No problem. Won’t be necessary, but…no problem..”

  “Thanks, man.” Zach put on his cap and left the bar. Four minutes later he crouched behind the door of his car outside an empty warehouse, listening to gunshots and getting orders on breaking up a gang fight. Between saving his own skin and dealing with injured crazies, he didn’t have time to worry about rings, or women, or babies.

  That simplicity of thought and action was just one reason he really did like this job.

  SHELLEY’S SATURDAY clients loved the first house she showed them. She suggested they view the others on her list, in case they saw an even better fit. But the couple
remained convinced that they’d found their dream house on the first shot

  They all drove back to the office to write up the contract. Carol waited in the reception area while the financial details were discussed. Two hours later, the excited buyers left. Shelley saw them out, then turned around to face her charge, who was curled up in one of the armchairs, paging listlessly through a magazine.

  “I’m sorry about this.” She sat in the chair beside Zach’s sister and put a hand on the girl’s arm. “You’ve had a really boring afternoon.”

  Carol sighed. “That’s okay. You’ve got neat magazines.” She sounded completely disinterested.

  Which was not what Zach intended. Shelley tried again. “I’ve put in a call to the owners of the house but they aren’t at home, so we’ve got some time. Want a tour of the office?”

  “Sure.” Not exactly raging excitement, but it was a start.

  The tour didn’t help much. With most of the agents showing properties, the fax machine and phones did the work. Shelley showed off their Internet web page and the countrywide real-estate search function. Carol watched and listened politely, played around some by herself, but showed little true enthusiasm.

  Desperately, Shelley racked her brain for something to interest a bored adolescent. All she could come up with was, “Shopping?”

  Carol smiled, finally. “I like to shop.”

  Carrying her cell phone, she showed the girl some of her own favorite stores. At the boutique where Shelley bought her cosmetics, Carol agreed to a makeover.

  “I like that purple shadow.” Shelley said, as they left the store. “Your eyes look huge.”

  “Yeah.” Carol studied her reflection in a window. “Not bad.”

  Shelley checked in with her receptionist and her message machine. “They haven’t called back. Let’s look at clothes.”

  A few minutes later, the teenager surveyed herself in the mirror wearing a purple leather micro skirt. “I don’t think I can sit down in this.”

  Shelley laughed. “Not many people can. And driving is a real challenge.”

  “You have a skirt this short?”

  “A couple, actually. Whether I’ll ever get into them again is the question.” At the last minute, she wished she could call the words back. So far, they’d done a great job of pretending the baby didn’t exist.