“Give me details,” Melina demanded. “Is he a great kisser?”
“Oh, honey … Granted, my experience is nowhere near as vast as yours, but he’s the best I’ve ever had.”
“Did he get … you know, turned on?”
Lynda laughed. “Jeez, Lina, what if I said no?”
“I wouldn’t believe you. Were you impressed?”
Impressed. Wowed. Stunned. And just a little bit afraid. God, there was a new sensation. When was the last time she’d been afraid? Probably her first day at college, when her parents had kissed her good-bye, then driven away from her dorm, leaving her all alone in a strange place. So long ago, and she could still remember how it felt—a great deep emptiness opening up in her stomach that felt as if it would never go away, as if things would never be right again.
Exactly the way she’d felt since Wednesday.
“I’ll take your silence as a hearty yes,” Melina said. “Now that you’ve necked with him, what do you think? Is he worth your Jimmy Choos?”
“Um … how about my Jill Sander heels?”
Over her friend’s laughter came the sound of a car door closing out back. The emptiness in Lynda’s stomach filled with butterflies as she headed toward the kitchen. The only people in town who had the code to the gate were Gloria, Sophy, and the man for whom she’d just volunteered to give up some of her favorite shoes. Since there was no reason for either Gloria or Sophy to show up after five on a Saturday afternoon, that meant …
She looked out the kitchen window, and the smile starting to form froze in place. “Oh, my God, Lina, Mom and Dad are here.”
“You weren’t expecting them?”
“No. With Mom on her you’re-going-to-be-an-old-maid kick, I would have gone to Malaysia if I’d known they were coming.”
“Hey, Janice is nobody’s fool. That’s why she decided to surprise you. I’ll let you go. Give your folks my best.”
“I will.” Lynda was lowering the phone when she saw the third figure slide out of the car. “Oh, God, Melina? Melina!”
The line was already dead. She disconnected the phone, let it drop to the counter, and murmured disbelievingly, “They’ve brought someone with them.”
A male someone. Handsome and smug. Looked like an underwear model—and was looking at her property as if assessing its value. Please don’t let him be Anton, Raphael, or Darnell, she silently prayed as she watched them approach the porch.
Janice rapped sharply at the back door. Lynda took a couple of rapid breaths, then hurried over to open it. “Mom! Dad! How wonderful to see you.”
Her mother, looking beautiful and petite and smelling of Chanel, came in, hugged her tightly, then gestured outside. “I see you’re finally getting some work done on this place.”
“Yes, I am—”
“Say hello to your father, dear.”
“Hi, Dad.” She bent to accept a hug and a kiss from her father, Phil.
“You’ve got good help,” he said. “The place looks better. You have any beer?”
“In the refrigerator.”
“Why do you have beer when you didn’t know we were coming?” Janice asked.
“Dad’s not the only person who drinks beer.”
“Hmph. Is this how you dress for company?”
Lynda glanced down at her tank top and pajama bottoms. “No, this is how I dress when I’m home alone and not expecting anyone. Would you like me to go upstairs and change?”
“You can do it before dinner. Come here, darling, we’ve brought someone for you to meet.” Janice linked her arm through Lynda’s and pulled her over to the model-boy. “Lynda, this is Richard Andrews. Richard, our daughter, Lynda. Richard is the youngest partner in the law firm your father uses. You may remember his uncle, George Andrews. He was your father’s lawyer and golf partner for years.”
And the reason Richard was the youngest partner in the firm, Lynda thought as she held out her hand and smiled politely. “It’s nice to meet you, Richard.”
“Likewise.” His handshake was as impressive as his greeting.
Pulling her hand free the instant it wouldn’t be rude, she turned back to her mother. “You guys didn’t drive all the way up here just for dinner, did you?”
“It’s not that far. We thought we’d spend the night, then head back in the morning.”
“Oh, Mom, I only have one guest room that’s livable.”
“Don’t worry. Richard was able to get us rooms at the McBride Inn. It helps when you have connections, you know.”
Lynda simply stared at Janice. She had connections. She knew Holly McBride Flynn and had worked with her husband for years. Probably half of Holly’s guests were in town to do business with McKinney Industries, many of them to see Lynda. She could have gotten them rooms. “I wish you’d let me know you were coming. I have plans for dinner this evening.”
“What? A frozen dinner in front of the computer?” Janice rolled her eyes. “We know how you spend your time, Lynda. Work can wait.”
“Actually, I’m meeting someone for dinner.” The lie was out before she could stop it, but the surprised look on her mother’s face was almost worth the deceit.
“A business dinner, of course.”
Lynda shook her head.
“A date? You haven’t had a date in … heavens, since my hair was this color naturally.”
Painfully aware of the lawyer boy—who, she’d decided on sight, wouldn’t be worth giving up a headache for—Lynda smiled uneasily. “It hasn’t been quite that long, Mom.”
“Almost. Well, bring him along.” Janice looked around, spotted the phone on the counter, and handed it to her. “Call him. Tell him you’ll have three guests with you.”
Lynda stared at the phone.
“Well, go on, dear. If he’s good enough for you to go out with, then he won’t mind a little change in plans. Call him. Tell him to meet us at that steakhouse in … oh, an hour. That’ll be plenty of time for you to get ready.” When Lynda still didn’t take the phone, Janice’s gaze narrowed. “There is a man expecting to have dinner with you tonight, isn’t there? You wouldn’t lie to your mother about such a thing, would you?”
“Of course not, Mom.” There were two men expecting to have dinner with her, and they were both standing right there in the kitchen. But Lynda managed a smile as she took the phone. Who could she call? Ross? Her parents had met him and knew he was married. Tom was out, too, for the same reason. There was a harmless VP in Marketing who had clumsily let her know that he was interested, but he was so short that she could look down on the part in his thinning hair. Her mother would never buy him as a date. Maybe the engineer, Gabe, with whom she’d worked on the Spring Valley project, but he was pretty insistent on spending his off-time with his wife and daughter.
Who was left besides the obvious choice? The unmarried man she knew best in Bethlehem. The only man she had much interest in spending an evening with. The only man she could realistically believe might have some small interest in spending an evening with her.
Either him, or admit to her mother that she’d lied.
Thankful she had a good memory for numbers, she dialed, then walked to the dining table while the phone rang. Janice followed her.
“Angels Lodge, this is Bree. How may I help you?”
Lynda smiled tightly at her mother. “Could I speak to Ben Foster, please?” While Bree put the call through, she politely asked, “Could I have a little privacy here, Mom?”
Janice gave her a whole three feet.
Ben sounded drowsy, as if she’d awakened him. “H’lo.”
“Hi, Ben. It’s Lynda.”
“Thanks for the hint, but I would have figured it out.” He was grinning. She could hear it in his voice. “What’s up?”
“About dinner tonight … I have some unexpected company, and I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I brought them along.”
He made a soft mmm sound, as if he were stretching. She could all too easily imagine him sliding up o
n the bed to sit, pillows behind his back, wearing nothing but jeans … or, since she was imagining, nothing at all. All that smooth, warm, tanned skin, all those muscles … Just the thought was enough to make her hot.
“Dinner tonight. Did I know we were having dinner tonight?”
“Of course.”
“Considering how Wednesday’s dinner ended, I can’t imagine how another meal could possibly have slipped my mind. And here I went and made plans for this evening.”
What plans? she wanted to ask. An evening at the Starlite Lounge with someone pretty, flashy, fun? Jealousy knotted in her stomach. “I—I know you’ve been busy. If you need to cancel”—a few feet away Janice made a sound of protest—“it’s all right. I understand.”
“Cancel a date I didn’t know we had? That wouldn’t be polite, would it? Who is this unexpected company?”
“My parents and a—a friend.”
“A muscular, oily type friend?”
“Yes. I realize it’s short notice—”
“Let me see if I’m awake enough to understand. Your parents showed up without warning, and they brought a man with them, and the man is for you. Huh. I’ll bet it never crossed Emmaline’s mind to give me a woman.”
The amusement in his voice would have been charming if it were at someone else’s expense. As it was, she felt foolish. She shouldn’t have called him, shouldn’t have lied to her mother, shouldn’t even have opened the door. Her mom had the code to the gate, but not a key to the house. They would have gone away after a while.
Oh, who was she kidding? Locked doors weren’t enough to keep Janice Barone from her goal. “Only because you already had so many of your own,” she said, teeth clenched, tone impeccably pleasant, even friendly. “One more would have been superfluous.”
“You could just say ‘too many.’ ”
“I knew you’d understand. So … if it’s not a problem for you, we could meet at six-thirty at McCauley’s Steakhouse.…”
“And what am I supposed to be?”
She turned her back to her mother and lowered her voice, but heard the floor creak as Janice came closer. “On time would be nice.”
“Am I your date? Your boyfriend? The man in your life?”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am. You know, if I’m saving you from an evening with one of your mother’s pretty boys, I think the least I deserve is a sweet, husky ‘darlin’.’ ”
“I don’t think so.”
He yawned again. “You know, I might go back to sleep.…”
She drew a deep breath, turned, and found her mother too close and law-boy studying her kitchen with an intensely critical look as if he could already envision it done over in stainless steel and phony space-age surfaces, and she smiled. “Then we’ll see you there at six-thirty, darling. Take care.”
Carefully she replaced the phone on the table and included her guests in her smile. Before she could think of anything to say, her mother did.
“Tell me about this Ben Foster.”
“You’re going to meet him in less than an hour. Wouldn’t you prefer to judge him for yourself?”
“How old is he?”
“About my age.” Actually two years younger, according to the birth date he’d given her, but she wasn’t about to quibble.
“What does he do?”
“He works in construction.”
“You mean he owns his own company.”
“No-oo.” It was hard to read her mother. Some days she thought any son-in-law at all was better than none—hence the recommendation in favor of unemployed boy toy Raphael—but most days she was holding out for a man who could provide. Lynda had tried to explain that she earned more in a month than most of the doctors and lawyers Janice had tagged as good prospects did in a year, but it didn’t sink in. Oh, her mother knew she made very good money. It was just that in her marriage, her friends’ and their parents’ marriages, the man provided the money and the woman did everything else. It had worked just fine for all of them, and she saw no reason why it shouldn’t work for Lynda, too.
“Well, if he doesn’t own his own company, then …?”
“For heaven’s sake, Jan,” Phil said impatiently. “She means he works. He’s got a job, like a real schmuck. Like her old man.”
Lynda smiled broadly at him. She loved her mother, but she related to her father. All he’d ever wanted was for her to be happy. If that meant going to college, and then into business, fine. Working nonstop and traveling so often she couldn’t remember what country she was in, great. Making a fortune and having no need for a man in her life, that was okay, too. In fact, the only part of Lynda’s dream he hadn’t liked was the moving-away-from-home part. He missed her, and she missed him. “You’re not a schmuck, Dad,” she disagreed.
“Sure I am. But I’m the schmuck she loves.” He indicated Janice with his beer, then slid his arm around her waist.
“I’d better get changed if we’re going to make it to the restaurant on time. Why don’t you go in the living room and have a seat?” Without waiting for a response, she started up the back stairs. She was halfway to the top when her mother’s voice floated up after her.
“Oh, stop that, Phil. We’ve got an audience.” Then, “Did she mean this Ben is a carpenter? What would she want with a carpenter?”
“Maybe she likes him,” Phil replied. “Or maybe she’s got dry rot.”
Dry rot of the brain, Lynda thought as she closed the bedroom door behind her. Why else would she subject herself to dinner with her mother, law-boy, and Ben to avoid having dinner with only her mother and law-boy?
Maybe because dinner with Ben would be worth a few hours with Janice and … what was his name? Ryan, Rick? No, Richard.
She stopped short, one hand poised to remove a silk tunic in a rich deep coral hue from its hanger. When was the last time she’d forgotten somebody’s name? Ever? Never. The realization made her slightly giddy … and more than slightly uneasy. She’d never been so distracted that she couldn’t remember names. In fact, she never forgot anything. She was single-minded and purposeful to a fault … at least, she had been until a handsome green-eyed stranger had come to town.
She’d added ivory pants to the tunic, done her hair up in an intricate roll, added earrings of Mexican fire opals that glowed the same color as her top, and was about to put on her shoes when a tap sounded at the door. “Come on in, Mom.”
Janice came to stand in the doorway leading to the dressing room. “You look beautiful, dear, but … you’re not planning to wear those shoes, are you?”
“No, Mom, I’m putting them on just to admire them, then I plan to take them off and put on my running shoes.”
Janice’s smile was affectionate. “Don’t you smart-mouth me, young lady. You may be a foot taller, but I can still turn you over my knee.”
“You’ve never turned me over your knee.”
“You never gave me a reason. You may not have noticed, but Richard’s only five-eleven.”
“Ben’s six-two, and he likes me in heels.” Not that he’d ever actually said so, but what was one more lie?
“You know I’m not a snob, dear.”
Lynda got the second shoe on, then stood up to check her appearance in the full-length mirror. She looked fine … though for one crazy moment, she wondered how the sleeveless coral silk top would look tucked into the snug-fitting jeans in the darkest corner of her closet. Would she look as silly as she thought she would feel? Would Ben appreciate it? Would her mother survive it? Lynda wasn’t quite sure, especially coming so soon after the my-daughter-is-dating-a-carpenter shock.
“No, Mom, you’re not a snob,” she said dutifully, then waited for the But …
“You and your brother weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouths, and heaven knows, your father and I certainly weren’t. But … a carpenter? You once dated a senator.”
“We went to dinner twice. It hardly qualifies as ‘dating.’ ”
<
br /> “You were engaged to a lawyer.”
“Whom you never liked. You celebrated when he dumped me, remember?”
“You go out with CEOs. Politicians. Actors.”
“One actor, Mom, and it was because I was trying to close a deal with him for some property.”
“But a carpenter … darling …”
“Mom, your only problem with this man whom you’ve never met is his occupation. I think that might be the very definition of a snob.” Laying her hands on Janice’s shoulders, she turned her toward the door. “Let’s hold off on passing judgment until you’ve at least had a chance to meet Ben. Come along. We don’t want to be late.”
Chapter Ten
McCauley’s Steakhouse was located on a side street in downtown Bethlehem. It was casual and crowded, with booths along the walls, tables in the middle, and customers waiting in the small lobby. When Ben reached the hostess, he automatically returned her smile. “I’m meeting a party that may already be here. Lynda Barone?”
She checked her list, then shook her head. “Maybe she left your name … No, no Ben. How many are in the group?”
“Four. Two men, two women. One of the women is …” He thought of all the superlatives he could use, then settled for simple. “Tall.”
“Oh, like …” The hostess raised her arm above her head, waving her fingers in the air up high. “I didn’t seat them, but I remember her.” Stepping into the dining room, she scanned the room before gesturing toward a distant booth. “Is that your party?”
At the same time Ben saw them, Lynda saw him and left the booth. She moved so gracefully, and she looked so damn beautiful that he simply stood there and watched. Beside him, the hostess was watching, too. “Wow,” she murmured admiringly.
Wow, indeed. Then Ben glanced at the girl—short, chubby, with braces, glasses, and enduring a bad-hair moment. Someday the braces would be gone. Weight could be lost, glasses traded for contact lenses, and bad hair fixed. Someday she would be very pretty … but not a wow. Not like Lynda.
Getting Lucky Page 16