‘‘Yeah, yeah.’’ Jodi had pulled on shorts and a T-shirt, but hadn’t showered yet. Her long red hair lay tangled on her shoulders. ‘‘I wanted to talk to you.’’
‘‘About what?’’ Beth asked with studied casualness, although she suspected the topic. She poured a cup of coffee for herself and juice for her daughter, then sat at the round kitchen table and set the juice in front of the chair across from hers.
‘‘Last night,’’ Jodi said as she stumbled into the seat.
‘‘What about last night?’’
Beth was stalling and she knew it, but she did not want to have this conversation with her sixteen-year-old daughter…or with anyone else.
Jodi tucked her hair behind her ears and took a drink of juice. ‘‘You said you and Todd just had drinks last night. That he offered you dinner and you declined.’’
‘‘Yes, that’s what I said.’’ It was a lie, Beth thought guiltily, but a small one. On the lie scale, it should barely register.
‘‘But you came home in a cab.’’
Beth silently cursed the beveled glass front door that allowed someone in the family room to see down the length of the house to the street. In the dark Jodi wouldn’t have been able to identify a specific car but she had obviously seen enough to know the yellow cab Beth had taken home was nothing like the dark limo she’d driven in earlier.
She drew in a deep breath. ‘‘Nothing bad happened,’’ she began slowly. ‘‘The date wasn’t working, so I left early. It’s not a big deal.’’
‘‘Did he try something?’’
‘‘No. Matt asked me the same thing. What is it with you two?’’
‘‘We’re worried about you, Mom. You haven’t been out with a man before. Well, you dated Daddy, but that’s different.’’ Jodi shifted in her seat. ‘‘You know what I mean. You’re not prepared for what really goes on when men and women date.’’
‘‘Something you’re expert at?’’
‘‘Of course not. It’s just I have friends with divorced parents. The kids tell me what it’s like for their moms. Men expect certain things. You’re not that kind of woman. I just want to be sure that you’re okay.’’
Beth didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically, hug Jodi close and never let her go, or burst into tears. She settled on a sip of coffee.
‘‘I appreciate the concern. Really. And I swear that Todd Graham was a perfect gentleman. He took me to a very exclusive restaurant.’’ Briefly Beth filled Jodi in on the details, including the lack of prices on the menu and offer of bone marrow flan as a side dish for her boeuf du jour.
‘‘That’s gross,’’ Jodi said, and shuddered.
‘‘Tell me about it. All I could think of was that whatever I ordered would be served on plate that had once held bone marrow flan. It made my stomach queasy.’’
‘‘But Todd was nice.’’
‘‘Very nice.’’
‘‘And you guys talked?’’
Beth thought for a second. ‘‘Actually we did, and that surprises me.’’
‘‘Was he having a good time?’’
‘‘I have no idea,’’ Beth said. ‘‘If I had to guess, I’d say yes. We got along.’’
‘‘So why did he let you leave early?’’
Beth sprang to her feet. ‘‘Gee, I wonder if the bread is ready yet?’’
‘‘Mom?’’
Beth hurried to the bread machine. Darn. There were nearly twenty minutes left on the timer. Maybe if she—
‘‘Mom? Why do you have that funny look on your face? What are you hiding?’’
Exposed by her own child. Beth wondered how she was going to talk her way out of this one. Then she reminded herself that she was the adult in the relationship.
‘‘I’m not hiding anything. Todd didn’t say anything about me leaving because I didn’t give him the chance. I excused myself and sent a note to the table.’’
Silence.
Beth cursed herself for raising children who had opinions and were allowed to voice them as long as they were polite and respectful.
‘‘You left him alone at the table and took off?’’
She turned to face her daughter, took one look at Jodi’s outraged face and wished she hadn’t. ‘‘You make it sound awful. It wasn’t like that.’’
‘‘How was it different from what I’m saying?’’
‘‘I’m sure Todd was relieved to have me gone. I’m not his type. He dates women closer to your age than mine.’’
‘‘But you were on a date, Mom. If Matt or I tried to do something like that, you would ground us for a month.’’
Beth tried to ignore the fact that her daughter was right, just like she’d tried to ignore her own guilt from the night before. ‘‘I had my reasons. I…’’ Her voice trailed off. She returned to the table, sank into her chair and buried her face in her hands. ‘‘Oh, Jodi, you’re right. It was a slimy thing to do and I know better.’’ She raised her head. ‘‘I just couldn’t stand it. The restaurant was so upscale. I felt like some hick from who-knows-where. The women Todd dates appear in the society pages. I didn’t fit in.’’
Jodi still looked shocked, which made Beth feel worse. She hated disappointing her children, not to mention setting a really crummy example for decent behavior.
‘‘I was in the wrong and I’ll apologize,’’ she said quickly. ‘‘I already did in the note, but on Monday morning I’ll arrange to have flowers sent to his office.’’
Jodi’s gaze turned speculative. ‘‘What was he like?’’
‘‘Different than I’d imagined. Nice and charming. I thought he would make me feel that he was hating every minute of the date, but he didn’t.’’ She remembered his teasing comments that he was the expert at dating and that she should let him give her advice. ‘‘He went out of his way to make me feel comfortable with what was obviously an awkward situation for both of us.’’
‘‘So you liked him.’’
Beth smiled at her daughter. ‘‘Don’t even go there. I thought he was a pleasant man, and that was unexpected.
I liked him the way I would like an acquaintance, not the way you would like a boy at school.’’
Jodi grinned. ‘‘Sure, Mom.’’ She stood up. ‘‘I’m going to shower. Can you finish the cinnamon rolls?’’
‘‘Not a problem.’’
When her daughter had left the room, Beth stared out the window at her backyard. But instead of seeing the hedges, plants and grass, she saw Todd’s face. He was a good-looking man with nearly perfect features. His dark blond hair had been conservatively cut, barely brushing the back of his collar. Cool blue-gray eyes added to his air of mystery. He’d had a straight nose, firm mouth and a body that filled out his clothes in a very nice way. Either he had the best set of genes this side of the Mississippi or he worked out regularly.
Jodi’s comment still echoed in the quiet of the morning. So you liked him.
Was that the problem? Had she left her date early because she’d found herself interested in the man? Beth didn’t want to think that was possible. Surely she wasn’t such a coward. But she had an uncomfortable feeling that was exactly what had gone wrong. If she found him charming and attractive, what was not to like? She wasn’t in a position to get involved with anyone—not that Todd would want to get involved with her. She also wasn’t interested in getting hurt. She was thirty-eight years old and she had a bad feeling that like everything else in her body, her heart would take a lot longer to heal than it had at sixteen.
‘‘I did the right thing,’’ Beth said aloud. Leaving him like that had been tacky, but getting out of the situation had been exactly right.
She walked to the front door and opened it. Her newspaper lay on the step. She glanced at the house across the street and for once was grateful that Cindy and Mike were gone for the weekend. At least she had a couple of days reprieve until she had to tell her best friend about her evening. She didn’t want to think about Cindy’s response or how Mike would l
augh when his wife confessed Beth’s transgressions.
As Beth brought the newspaper inside, the bread machine chimed to let her know it had finished. Upstairs she heard Matt stirring and the running water of Jodi’s shower. Her morning was already underway.
She wouldn’t think about Todd any more today, she told herself. First thing Monday, after the traffic died down, she would drive into the city and find a florist close to his office. She would have them deliver a personal note of apology along with a bouquet of flowers and then she would put the whole thing behind her.
*
The scent of roses filled his office. Todd stood staring at the large spray of flowers sitting on his credenza. He’d sent hundreds of flowers over the years but this was the first time he could remember a woman sending them to him.
There was a greeting-card-sized envelope tucked in the greens instead of the usual small florist’s card. He recognized the handwriting—after all, he’d spent much of the weekend reading and rereading the note Beth Davis had left him when she’d walked out on their date. So she’d delivered the note herself to—he checked the address on the delivery notice—a florist just down the street.That was a lot of work for a woman who had stood him up less than seventy-two hours before.
He opened the card and scanned the contents. It was all a repeat of what she’d written on Friday night. That she was sorry to have left without saying goodbye. She appreciated his kindness and hoped he would understand why the situation had been so difficult for her.
‘‘Actually, I don’t understand,’’ he said aloud as he walked to his desk and settled into his leather chair.
She’d walked out on him. Todd still couldn’t believe that had actually happened. He liked to think that while he had a healthy self-esteem, his ego wasn’t overly inflated. But facts were facts. She was some middle-aged woman from the suburbs and he was a rich, single man. Women threw themselves at him, fawned over him and generally made it clear that he could have them whenever and wherever it was convenient. How could she have left their date early?
He told himself to let it go. She and the circumstances didn’t matter. Except he couldn’t think about anything else. Although he’d expected to be bored out of his mind, he’d actually enjoyed talking with her. She’d been nervous, obviously freshly divorced and completely out of her league, but she’d charmed him. He liked that she wasn’t impressed by him. Her being unsure of the situation had been because of her inexperience, not his reputation. Her honesty had startled him, but he’d enjoyed knowing she would say what she thought, not what he wanted to hear.
His phone buzzed. ‘‘Mr. Graham, the marketing team is ready for you.’’
He pushed a button and spoke. ‘‘I’ll be right there.’’
He rose from his seat and crossed to the door. Beth Davis had occupied more than her share of his time. His marketing meeting was scheduled to last all afternoon. When it was over, he would give the flowers to his secretary, toss both notes and never think about Beth again. Maybe he needed to get away for a few days. New York? It was April, the weather could be beautiful there. Or even Paris. He could call up one of his on-again off-again companions and make a mini-vacation of it. He would make up his mind when he left the meeting.
That resolved, he headed down the hall, leaving the flowers, and thoughts of Beth, behind.
Two hours later he cursed himself and the confusion of street names that was Sugar Land. He was lost. He hadn’t bothered paying attention when R.J. had driven the limo down here and he’d only briefly glanced at his Key Map before leaving work.
What the hell was he doing? he asked himself again. He’d walked out of a meeting with only the barest of explanations, he’d driven for nearly forty minutes in the middle of the afternoon, and for what? He told himself it was because he wanted to hear Beth’s apology in person. He told himself that it was about being right, and not anything more significant than that. He almost believed it, too.
‘‘She’s not my type,’’ he grumbled as he pulled to the side of the road and pulled out his Key Map. He located the right page, then found the street. Up ahead was a sprawling mall. He should have turned left on Austin Parkway instead of right.
‘‘She’s not my type and we have nothing in common.’’
She was too old, too intelligent and too sincere. The woman had children. He didn’t like children. At least he didn’t think he did—after all, he didn’t spend any time around them.
Todd turned right at the corner and found himself on Beth’s street. Once again he was struck by the similarity of the houses. He studied the address, then pulled up across from the right one.
A young woman stood in front, watering some plants. She was tall and curvy, wearing a T-shirt and shorts. Todd was startled to realize Beth’s daughter was so old. Beth must have gotten pregnant at sixteen.
He got out of his car and walked up the driveway. ‘‘Excuse me,’’ he called over the sound of running water. ‘‘Is your mother home?’’
The girl spun toward him. Todd found himself staring into Beth’s startled blue eyes. Her hair was mussed, her face free of makeup. While she couldn’t pass for someone in her twenties, she looked surprisingly attractive in her casual clothes.
Her mouth dropped open. ‘‘What are you doing here?’’
‘‘I came to see you.’’
She took one step back, then another. Todd glanced down and saw the potential for disaster. ‘‘Watch out for the sprinkler head,’’ he warned.
But he was too late. Beth’s bare heel came down on the edge of the metal. She shifted immediately, stumbling as she did so. The hose bounced wildly and a stream of cool water danced across the front of his pants, dousing his thighs and his crotch.
Chapter Four
Beth looked horrified. Todd hoped her expression came from her spraying him with water and not because he’d shown up unexpectedly, but he had a feeling she wrestled with both facts.
She dropped the hose to the ground and hurried to the tap. When the water was off, she brushed her hands against her shorts and turned back to face him. ‘‘You’re here.’’
‘‘I know.’’ He sighed and pretended distress. ‘‘I thought things would be different in the suburbs, but I’m not sure I approve of your welcome ceremony. Given a choice though, I guess it beats a baptism of fire.’’
Her gaze drifted from his face, down his body to his soaking trousers. She swallowed. ‘‘I’d offer to toss them in the dryer, but I’m guessing they’re not made out of a wash-and-wear fabric.’’ She shook her head. ‘‘I really didn’t mean to do that. I’m so sorry, Todd.’’
‘‘No problem.’’ Now that he was here, he was more interested in seeing her again than angry by the accident. ‘‘Although I wouldn’t mind being able to towel off some. I’m dripping.’’
‘‘Oh. Yes, of course you’ll need a towel.’’ She glanced at the house, then down the street. Two women stood about a half block down the street. They were talking to each other and obviously interested in the goings-on in Beth’s front yard. ‘‘We’d better go inside.’’
He could feel the cold water running down his legs and pooling in his shoes. No doubt his trousers were ruined. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Beth led the way to the rear of the house. As she held open the back door, she sighed. ‘‘Payback,’’ she murmured. ‘‘I’m not the least bit surprised.’’
He was about to ask her what she meant when he stepped into the house but she disappeared, leaving him standing in the kitchen. On Friday he’d spent about thirty seconds in the foyer. He’d formed an impression of smallish spaces and average decorating. But everything looked different from his new vantage point.
The back door led into a bright kitchen, and he could see a family room beyond that. A baseball cap sat in the center of the round kitchen table. Books lay scattered across a wet bar. He could see a bike helmet, a letter jacket from a local high school and textbooks. All proof that Beth had children.
The information wasn’t news, and if it was, it should have sent him running for cover. Instead, he found himself wondering about her kids. How old were they? How many? What were they like? He’d never much thought about having children of his own, nor had he been interested in other people’s. But the thought of her children made him curious.
Beth reappeared carrying several towels. ‘‘I guess you can blot yourself dry, then take a couple of these with you to protect your car seat.’’
‘‘Thanks.’’ He took the towels from her and began patting himself down. He thought about offering her the job, but figured she would probably faint at the idea.
She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. ‘‘Um, you don’t want coffee or something, do you?’’
‘‘What a gracious invitation. I would love some coffee.’’
She flushed. ‘‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just…’’ She waved helplessly. ‘‘You’re here. I soaked you with a hose. It’s not my finest hour. I’ve been praying for the earth to open up and swallow me whole, but we don’t get many earthquakes here in Texas, so I guess I’m going to have to see this through.’’
‘‘Is that so horrible?’’
Her blue eyes darkened. ‘‘That depends on why you’re here.’’
‘‘How about that coffee?’’
‘‘Would you settle on iced tea? I just brewed some.’’
‘‘Sounds great.’’
While she poured him a glass, he settled into one of the wooden chairs at the table. Beth offered him sugar, which he declined, then reluctantly took the seat opposite his.
She tried faking a smile and failed miserably. Todd almost found it in himself to feel sorry for her. Almost. ‘‘What did you mean when you said this was payback?’’ he asked.
She cupped her hands around her glass. ‘‘It just is. For years I was so smug and happy with my life. I wanted exactly what I had—no more, no less. I felt sorry for women in unhappy marriages, I teased my suddenly single friends and never once thought that my turn would come. Here it is, whether I want it or not. Now people are talking about me. I’m one of the single friends.’’
Beth and the Bachelor Page 4