Why Did It Have to Be You?

by Allyson Charles

  He cut her off by placing a finger on her lips. She sucked in a breath, the movement exposing the top edge of her bra beneath her silk blouse. It was purple, and lacey, and looked beautiful against her creamy skin. Just that one glimpse and his whole body tightened. He guessed he wasn’t over his high school infatuation as much as he’d thought he was.

  “Not a bribe. An offer.” Reluctantly, he removed his finger, and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “I’ll take you to lunch, and we can interview each other to see if we want a business relationship after this case ends.”

  He could see the wheels turning behind those big doe eyes. She didn’t want to get into bed with him, metaphorically speaking of course. But Carelli Construction was a plum client. It would go a long way to further her career if she landed his business. He waited patiently for her thoughts to stop at the place he knew they would. The only rational place.

  “Okay.” She nodded slowly. “When would you like to go for lunch?”

  “Now.” Taking her elbow, he led her away from her POS and toward his BMW. He leased, so every two years he got the latest model. He’d never wanted to impress a woman more, and his silver i8 never failed to do the trick.

  “Now?” Connie stumbled keeping up with him, and he slowed his pace. “I can’t go now.”

  “Why? Do you already have a lunch appointment?” If she had a date, he was going to make sure she broke it.

  “No.”

  “And you do eat lunch, right? You’re not one of those women who subsists on celery and bottled water?” He pressed the button for the automatic locks and opened the passenger door, trying to hustle her in.

  “Of course I eat.” She yanked her elbow out of his grasp, and shoved her purse strap higher on her shoulder.

  “Then what’s the problem?” He clenched his fingers into fists, wanting nothing more than to bundle her in and drive away. Something about this woman brought the caveman out in him. Always had.

  He never should have brushed that leaf off her ass the other day. It was like that one act had put a crack in his dam of control. Once he’d felt her curves beneath his hands, he wanted more.

  Connie opened her mouth, and closed it. She was trying so hard to come up with a legitimate excuse, he almost felt bad for her. Almost. “Great. It’s all settled.” With a hand at her lower back, he guided her into the car. She plopped down on the seat with a growl.

  “Watch your legs.” He placed his palm on her calf, to nudge her legs in. She jerked out of his hold, and settled into the seat, her lips a white slash. But not before he felt the definition of her toned muscle. The heat from her skin burned his palm, even through the nylons she wore.

  He slammed the door shut and resisted the temptation to lock it while he walked around the car. If she hadn’t been glaring at him through the windshield, he would have smacked himself in the head. Damn, he got crazy-stupid around this woman. Acting like an idiot. He couldn’t force a woman to like him, trap her away with him. Plus, the doors would unlock from the inside if she pulled on the handle.

  He slid behind the wheel and started driving before she changed her mind and jumped out. “Where to?”

  She shrugged and looked out her window.

  Fine dining options were limited in Pineville. He headed for a little French restaurant he knew, the only place within fifty miles he could get a decent beef tenderloin. They didn’t speak on the drive. But he breathed in her soft, floral scent until it was imprinted on his brain.

  He ushered her to his usual table, pulling out her chair before the waiter could beat him to it. She quietly looked over the menu.

  He couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Have you ever interviewed a potential client before? Because usually you have to open your mouth and ask questions.”

  She snapped the menu shut and raised an eyebrow, looking for all the world like a queen bored with her court jester. Except for the light pink stain that swept across her cheeks. She wasn’t as sure of herself as she’d like to be. This probably was the first time she’d interviewed a potential client.

  “I don’t know of any questions I could ask that would tell me something I don’t already know. Everyone is aware of your character.”

  David shifted forward. “What does that mean?”

  She smiled sweetly at the waiter who approached and ordered a club soda with lime. David waited until the young man left and asked her again.

  “It means, most general contractors don’t have litigators on retainer. Most businessmen are only involved in one, maybe two, lawsuits in their entire lives.” She twisted the thin band of her watch around her wrist. “How many times have you been sued?”

  Like she didn’t already know the number was high. He ground his molars together. “The type of business I run—”

  “Colt McCoy runs the same type of business,” she said. “But I don’t think his company has ever been sued.”

  “McCoy.” God, he hated that name. For so many reasons. “My contracting business is five times the size of his.”

  She inclined her head. “Yes. But it’s not the size of the business. It’s how you run it.”

  The waiter came back and placed a cup of coffee in front of David and Connie’s club soda in front of her. “Are you ready to order?”

  “Caesar salad with salmon, please.” She sipped at her soda.

  “My usual.” David didn’t take his glare off of Connie, even while the waiter tried to sell them on appetizers. “Just the entrees,” he barked. “Now go away.”

  Connie frowned. Leaning across the table, she whispered, “Do you try to be a jerk or does it come naturally to you?”

  Annoyance, and a tiny bit of shame, lashed at him. He flicked a glance at the waiter’s retreating back. The kid was about his nephew’s age, but obviously in a much better place in life. “He’ll survive. Now let’s get back to us.” He ignored her raised brow. “I would think you’d appreciate my business practices. After all, if I agree to hire your firm, they stand to make you a lot of money.”

  “Money isn’t everything.”

  He snorted. “It’s the only thing. And you’re naïve if you don’t believe that.” It’s what had kept his unwed sister and baby nephew fed and clothed after David’s parents died. Had he wanted to go into business right out of college? No, he wanted to explore the world, maybe play a little baseball with the minor league team that had scouted him the two years he’d played in college. But he had to take care of his family. And that meant making money.

  He was tired of people judging him for wanting to be successful. His sister. His employees. And now Connie. “And don’t tell me it’s not important to you, too. Why’d you go to law school? You wanted to make more than the piddly-ass amount you were taking home as a paralegal.”

  Jaw tight, she said, “I want to help people. Do some good.”

  David rested his forearms on the table, his fingers almost brushing hers. “Ninety-five percent of your clients are going to be assholes, just like me. Don’t kid yourself. But you’ll do the job and you’ll get paid. That’s life.”

  Connie leaned back in her chair. “That might be how you view life, but that’s not how everyone does. Some people actually try their best to lead good lives. Lives that have meaning. It isn’t all about looking out for number one.”

  David unrolled his napkin from his silverware and unfurled the white cloth with a snap. Laying it over his lap, he ignored the tightness in his chest. “It always comes back to Caleb with you, doesn’t it?”

  Her face drained of color, and David wished he could take the question back. But damn it, the man had been dead for three years. Was he going to be the standard bearer against whom she compared all men for the rest of her life? David hadn’t been able to compete with the all-state championship quarterback when they were in high school. He damn sure wouldn’t be able to compete with the ghost of a military hero now.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m s
orry I brought him up. This lunch is supposed to be about business.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Don’t back down now. You’ve always disliked Caleb, ever since I could remember. What was your problem with him?”

  Nothing was wrong with Caleb, except he’d gotten to hold Connie and David hadn’t. Caleb had been the recipient of all of Connie’s smiles, and David only got her glares. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t have a problem with him.”

  “Sure, it’s just Crazy Connie making stuff up again. Crazy Connie who doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” Her arm lashed out, knocking over her glass of club soda.

  Using his napkin, he sopped up the mess. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know.” Her fingers whitened as she twisted her own napkin in her hands. “You gave me that name in high school, and it’s stuck with me all these years. Any time I take a step out of place, all I hear is, ‘There goes Crazy Connie.’”

  “I never…maybe once I told some guys in high school that I thought you were crazy to date a meathead like Caleb.” He furrowed his brow. “You think that’s where your nickname came from? That one-off comment?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Taking her hand, he peeled the napkin from it and held it between his own palms. “If I started that name, I’m sorry. I never intended to hurt you.”

  Connie bit her lip. After a moment, she nodded curtly and tugged her hand. Reluctantly, he let it slide through his fingers.

  He sighed. “As to Caleb, I really didn’t mind the guy.” Especially when he’d been deployed out of the country, away from Connie. “I just don’t think you should compare everyone you meet to this perfect ideal you have of him. You’re bound to be disappointed.”

  She stared at her hands in her lap. “I know he wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

  She didn’t know how far from perfect Caleb had fallen. However, that wasn’t David’s secret to share. “But?”

  “But he always tried his best to do the right thing. The honorable thing.” Raising her eyes, she pierced him with a look, part disgust, part pity. “I don’t think it’s wrong to expect that from others.”

  Honorable. His sister had used the same word with him. Rage churned in his gut. What the hell did Connie know about tough choices? When had she ever had to choose between doing the honorable thing and keeping a roof over her family’s head? He’d started his business from nothing when he was barely more than a kid himself. Had no help from anyone. And he’d managed to support three people with it. If he had to cut some corners along the way, make some unsavory deals, who was she to judge?

  “Caleb only had to do what the army told him to. He didn’t have to make any tough choices, he just followed orders,” David bit out. “He had no wife”—Connie stiffened—“no kids, and no responsibilities. He was able to do the right thing without having to make the hard decisions. Some people don’t have the luxury of being the good guy.”

  Connie neatly folded her napkin and laid it on the table in front of her, pressing the edges down flat. “He had no responsibility except protecting our country. No tough choices besides whether or not he’d put himself in the line of fire each day or hide.” Standing, she pulled her purse off the back of her chair and slung it over her shoulder. “And he was such a good guy, he had the luxury of coming home in a coffin.”

  David rose as well, his stomach a knot of messed-up emotions. He knew he was right, that most people, including Caleb, didn’t have to face the same decisions he’d had to. But the hell of it was, Connie was right, too.

  He’d wanted to have lunch with her to try to bridge the chasm between them. To try to see if it would ever be his time to be with Connie. But they were further apart now than ever.

  “Connie…”

  “Don’t.” Holding up her hand, she shook her head. “Don’t say another word about him.”

  The waiter sidled up. He held up two plates, looked at the table, and looked back at them. “Uh, do you want these to go?”

  David’s shoulders sagged. He nodded. Removing his wallet, he tossed some money on the table, making sure to leave a big tip for the kid. Someone should have a good day.

  Connie brushed past him and strode from the restaurant. David waited by the hostess stand for their meals, assuming she’d wait by his car. But when he went outside, she was nowhere in sight. Leaving him with two lunches and zero appetite.

  Chapter Six

  Connie tiptoed to the corner of her house and peered around the edge. Hummingbirds flitted around the new feeder she’d hung from a cedar pergola, a fat bumble-bee buzzed nearby, but her prey was nowhere in sight.

  Swishing the butterfly net in front of her, she stalked to the outskirts of her yard. She knew the flimsy net wouldn’t hold Milo, not really, but it should distract him enough while he was trying to chew his way out to give her time to grab him. What happened after that was up to the goat.

  She looked back at the small pile of newly planted petunias lying root-up around the gravel path in her garden, their small red petals scattered on the ground like drops of blood. Hours of back-breaking work, tilling the flower beds, adding new soil, digging snug holes for her new plants, all pulled up by the roots. Luckily for Milo, the rows of lavender had been left untouched. So far. If he’d pulled up her favorite plant, she would have been stalking the goat with a shotgun instead of a net.

  “Come here, you little bastard,” she said in her sweetest, most non-threatening voice. A bush rustled under a large, gnarled oak tree. Connie switched direction. “That’s it, you flea-bitten excuse for an animal. Come to momma.”

  “Did you lose a dog?”

  Connie yelped and spun around, swinging her net wildly. It caught the top of the ostrich feather sticking out of Miss Eugenie’s navy bell-shaped hat, bending it in half.

  The older woman frowned and pulled the cloche lower on her forehead.

  “Uh, hello. How are you today?” Connie reached to straighten the feather, but snatched her hand back when the woman glared at her. Miss Eugenie obviously didn’t know about the destruction to her hat, and Connie wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.

  Her neighbor rocked in her orthopedics, a bundle of quivering energy. “I’d be doing better if half of my rose bush hadn’t been destroyed. Someone has cut off every bud and blossom that was less than four feet from the ground. It must be a kid doing this.”

  The bush under the oak rustled again. Stepping between it and Miss Eugenie, Connie tried to lead the woman back toward the house.

  “Yep, that sounds like something a kid would do.” The double-meaning of the word “kid” struck her, and Connie smothered a snort of laughter.

  “So, what did you lose? I didn’t realize you had any pets,” Miss Eugenie said. “It would be nice for Shep to have some friends. This would be a good yard for two dogs to play in. Nothing that could get ruined.”

  Connie rolled her neck. She would have a nice garden, nice enough to make her neighbor eat her words.

  “Nope, no pets.” And she wasn’t going to get any. Once she caught Milo, she’d be calling animal control. “Just thought I saw a stray back here.”

  “Too bad Shep isn’t here; he’d root out the intruder soon enough. But I left him on guard duty at home.” The older woman toed the corpse of a petunia. “Why’d you pull these up, dear? They’re quite pretty.”

  “I changed my mind on the color scheme,” Connie said.

  Miss Eugenie nodded as if that wasn’t bat-crap crazy. But the wanton destruction riled Connie up all over again. The goat hadn’t even eaten any of his ill-gotten gains. Just destroyed her work for the fun of it. Her fingers tightened around the net. She couldn’t wait to see his little bearded face behind bars. Except, with her lawsuit against the shelter, chances were Sue wouldn’t accept her goat from animal control. And if no one would take him, animal control would have no choice but to destroy Milo.

&nbs
p; Her stomach bottomed out. Damn it. The goat was a nuisance, but ruining her garden was hardly a capital offense.

  “Well, thanks for coming over, but I have some work to get back to.” Connie herded the woman around the side of her house. It was an excuse, but it was one that was true. Since becoming an attorney, Connie had lost her weekends. She worked from home, but she had to put in the hours nonetheless. She was the lowest rung on the firm’s ladder, and all the other attorneys passed off their grunt work to her.

  “Girls these days work too much. Don’t leave enough time for family.” Miss Eugenie shook her head. “I don’t know how you expect to ever find a man if you’re working all the time.”

  Said the woman who’d never married, as far as Connie knew. “I like my work,” she said. “Family can come later.”

  A rusted-out Chevy pickup rolled up her drive. The body was pockmarked with small dents, except for the left front panel. Its smooth, matte gray paint didn’t match the chipped and faded red of the rest of the truck.

  “Or family can come right now.” Her neighbor nodded at the vehicle, the broken ostrich feather bouncing on the crown of her hat. “I recognize that heap. You should have told me your father was coming to visit. I would have left you to prepare.”

  Connie’s shoulders knotted tighter with each foot the truck rolled closer. If she’d known her father was coming over, she might have decided to go into the office today.

  The truck shuddered to a stop in front of her porch steps, back-fired, spluttered, and died. Her father stepped out and stretched. His wrinkled plaid shirt rose above his belt buckle, exposing a strip of pale skin.

  Miss Eugenie sniffed. Connie’s father was a wrinkled, shiftless mess—everything the woman stood against. “Afternoon, Joel. I haven’t seen you around town for a while.”

  “Been working over in Clarion Township.” Not a lie, Connie noted. Just not exactly accurate anymore. But her dad did love to save face. He reached into the bed of his truck and came up with a worn suitcase, and Connie’s stomach sank to her toes.