by Roz Denny
"Mom? Gabe?" Mike came into the room, doing his best to stifle a big yawn. "Is somethin' wrong?" He looked anxious. "Are you guys mad at me?"
Gabe softened instantly. He quickly plucked up the coffeepot and began filling two cups. This was take it or leave it time, he decided. Sarah's choice. He would miss Mike, but the boy wouldn't benefit if the two adults continued to squabble. He was, however, surprised to see his hand shake.
Sarah jumped up and collected the plate she'd kept warm for Mike. "No one's mad at you, honey, but watch those g's, huh? Come and sit at the counter," she said. "I spilled a glass of wine all over the table. That's what happened. Nothing much."
The child obviously felt relieved. He glanced at Gabe. "Good thing it wasn't you that spilled," he said. "Mom has this boring book on manners. She'd read you the whole thing."
Gabe handed Sarah a cup. Their fingers brushed and she jerked her hand back, nearly spilling again.
Gabe couldn't ignore the attraction that surged between them and wondered how honest she was prepared to be.
Sarah averted her gaze.
Feeling both angry and disappointed, he set her cup on the table.
"You gonna read me a story tonight, Gabe?" Mike stopped shoveling spaghetti into his mouth long enough to ask.
Sarah drew a sharp breath. Bedtime was their quiet time together. The look she flashed Gabe said exactly how she felt.
"It's up to your mom, kicker." Gabe shrugged. "It's been a long day. I'll probably leave after I help clean up."
"No need for you to stay," Sarah murmured. "The dishes will keep." She avoided Gabe's eyes and turned to Mike. "Early to bed with you, hon. Don't you remember that we're going to hear Harvey sing in the morning? His quartet's doing a special presentation down at Puck's Alley."
"Aw, Mom, do we gotta?" Mike screwed up his face. "Maybe Gabe needs me to help again at his boat tomorrow."
"A boyfriend?" Gabe asked lightly.
"Yeah," Mike said in a sour voice, "Harvey Denton. He don't like kids."
"Denton?" Gabe snorted.
"You know him?" Mike stopped eating to stare.
Gabe nodded, crossed his ankles and tugged on his ear-lobe.
"Not that it's any of your business," Sarah interjected primly, "but he's a colleague. I work for Lou Page."
"Lou's a nice man," Gabe said. "Denton's a jackass."
"Is that like stuffy?" Mike asked curiously. "Don'cha 'member? I said today how I didn't like Mom's friend, Harvey."
"You discussed me?" Sarah was indignant.
Gabe held up a hand. "It wasn't like it sounds. And this argument is going nowhere. Kicker, tomorrow you spend the day with your mom. I'll see you Wednesday at practice."
He deposited his cup on the counter and gave Mike's arm a light punch. "Sarah, you have my business card," he said. "If you want to settle where this goes from here, call me. For now, I'll say good-night."
His departure was so sudden Sarah was left feeling as if some vital force had gone with him. She went through the motions of stacking dishes and listening to Mike chatter about his great day with Gabe. Long after she had him tucked into bed, she lay awake, vacillating. Perhaps if she let Mike do a few things with Gabe, he'd be more receptive to spending time with Harvey.
After all, Gabe had done nothing wrong. He didn't let Mike get away with bad manners, either. The problem was hers, she admitted after some soul-searching.
She was an adult; she could deal with a small case of lust. She had her friends and Mike had his—which now included Gabe. The two of them, she and Gabe, didn't need to mix socially. From now on, there would be no more cozy little family dinners.
Then why, when it all sounded so logical, did she feel so unsure? Why wasn't her heart convinced? She lay in bed contemplating the shadows of swaying palms that swirled in a ghostly dance across her ceiling until they blurred and faded into daylight.
Sunday arrived before she was ready. Sarah was upset to realize that Gabe held such power over her waking thoughts—and, worse, that he so easily stole her revitalizing hours of sleep. The way she felt now, she'd like nothing better than to call Harvey and beg off.
To keep from acting on that temptation, she assumed a cheerful demeanor and went to awaken Mike. She had to go through with today, if for no other reason than to forget the way her body betrayed her every time she so much as thought of Gabriel Parker.
CHAPTER FIVE
By Sunday evening, Sarah wished the day had never happened. She leaned heavily against the kitchen counter and despondently sipped a cup of tea. She'd made it strong but apparently not strong enough to wipe out memories of a day that had started out badly and gotten worse.,
She should have had a clue when she'd managed to wake Mike only after threatening to douse him with cold water. Never a morning person, he'd started out grumpier than usual. She'd known, of course, that he didn't want to go anywhere with Harvey. Sarah groaned and let the steam from her tea loosen her tight facial muscles. If only she could blot out the hours after the concert.
Harvey, always scrupulously prompt, nagged from the outset about Mike's attitude. By the time the three of them arrived at Puck's Alley, Harvey was livid, Mike stubbornly sullen, and Sarah, trapped in the middle, was unsuccessfully trying to placate them both.
The more Mike fidgeted, the more Harvey scowled at him, and the more forced Sarah's smile became.
She took a long swallow of the hot sweet tea and sighed. If only she'd insisted Harvey drive them straight home after the performance. But no, she'd let herself be talked into brunch at the stately old Royal Hawaiian Hotel. Had she really believed luxurious beachfront dining would appeal to a boy who'd been out of sorts since missing hamburgers with his idol?
She groaned again. Apparently she had. And considering everything, Mike really tried. But nothing he did met with Harvey's approval—from squirming too much to being too messy and noisy. And all of that happened before the poor kid spotted some surfers out the window and accidentally spilled a full glass of milk on the pink linen tablecloth. The way Harvey carried on, anyone would think Mike had done it on purpose. Not that she was thrilled about his excitement over the surfers, but she defended him because accidents happened and Harvey's reaction was out of line.
In retrospect, Sarah began to doubt that Harvey Denton could ever relate to children. Although she tried hard not to compare him with Gabe Parker, it was evident Harvey would never measure up in Mike's eyes. And after today, he'd slipped in hers too. A lot.
Her teacup hit the saucer with a whack and she grabbed a paper towel to mop up the spill. The final truth had dawned with Harvey's old-fashioned perfunctory kiss at the door. He had delivered the quick peck on her lips as usual and she realized what had been missing all along—the zing she'd experienced last night with no more than a simple touch from Gabe Parker.
Horrified she could develop such feelings for another surfer, Sarah clung to the sink to keep her knees steady. She felt suddenly drained, exhausted, and emptied her tea down the sink. Then she snapped off the light, welcoming the velvety darkness. She dared the preposterous thought to surface again. Relieved to see it fade, she started for bed, stopping to check on Mike.
He was asleep, snoring softly. One wiry arm was thrown across his ratty old bear. Sarah tiptoed out, closing the door quietly behind her. To her knowledge, he hadn't needed Bear-Bear since Gabe had come into his life. If that wasn't a testament to Mike's bad day, she didn't know what was.
In her own room, Sarah eased out of her dress and into a nightshirt. During the routine of brushing her teeth and washing her face, she paused to study the shadows around her eyes. She wished there was a Bear-Bear to offer her some comforts, too. Because in spite of what her parenting books claimed, she couldn't help thinking everything was her fault.
Farrell's leaving. Harvey's disapproval. The complications Gabe Parker presented. Each came about as a direct result of her actions.
Tears suddenly pressed for release. Sarah struggled to hold
them in, but they slipped out, anyway, when she climbed into bed, soaking her pillow. Hours passed before she slept.
Monday morning came too fast. Fortunately the normal hustle and bustle kept her from dwelling on the weekend. Unfortunately, she was running late—as usual. On the positive side, though, Mike was so busy searching for lost sneakers, he didn't notice her unhappiness.
As this wasn't his Monday for going to school early, Sarah had to drop him off at Mitzi's mother's. When they arrived at the Shinns', one shoe was still untied, he had a half-eaten piece of toast in one hand and the revered soccer shoes in the other.
Either the shoes no longer presented an issue or she was too tired to care. Whichever, this morning the sight of them didn't even spark a reaction. Nothing. Hallelujah!
"Mike," she yelled after him. "Remember to call me at work if Coach is going to bring you home. If he is, I may work late."
"Aw, Mom," grumbled Mike, his words muffled by the last bite of toast as he knelt on the walkway and dealt with his untied shoe. "Jim Cline only has to call his mom if Coach isn't taking us home. Why can't I do that? You make me call for every little thing."
Sarah dredged up a smile. She remembered Mitzi's comment about letting go. "Uh… sure, hon. We'll give it a try. Just call if you need me to pick you up. Otherwise, I'll expect you home by six."
"Really?" He grinned. "All right!" he hollered, loping off toward Mrs. Shinn's front door, his shoestring loose again.
Such a small thing to make him so happy. If only that was all it took for her, she reflected as she drove to Mitzi's. Uh-oh. Mitzi was pacing at the curb, and she looked decidedly annoyed.
"You're half an hour late again, Sarah. How you can get behind on Monday morning is always a mystery to me. I swear, one of these days I'm going to sleep an extra fifteen minutes."
Sarah laughed. "You do, and it'll be the one morning I'm early. But I thought Sam was due back. So how come you're on time? Didn't you fix him breakfast?"
"Breakfast? Chi his first morning back? Sarah, I'm afraid you've been without a man too long." Mitzi fastened her seat belt, then stretched like a contented cat. "We didn't start the day with breakfast—but it was delicious all the same."
"Mitzi!" Sarah blushed.
Dark eyes gleamed wickedly. "Come on, Sarah. Women are allowed to enjoy sex, too. Don't you remember?"
Sarah rounded the corner a little too fast and was forced to brake. "Can't say I do," she said dryly. "If I ever felt that way it's been so long I've forgotten." Except that wasn't true. All too vividly she recalled the rush of desire she'd experienced Saturday night. And Gabe Parker hadn't even kissed her, for mercy's sake. Her ears began to burn.
Mitzi braced an arm against the dash. "I hope you don't think I discuss my sex life with everyone. You're my best friend. You see how miserable I am when Osamu's gone. Honestly, Sarah, I don't know how you cope alone."
"I'm not exactly alone," Sarah pointed out. "I have Mike." Although that was hardly what her friend meant… Abruptly she changed the subject. "This was Sam's last out-of-town match for a while, wasn't it?"
"He has three more this year. But the good news is he'll be home for the Maxwells' party. Last night he suggested I buy a sinfully extravagant dress. If you're going, why don't we give you a ride to the party?"
Sarah pretended to be preoccupied. Mitzi repeated the offer.
"I—I haven't decided," Sarah said. "Lou arranged for me to go with Harvey, but he and I had a…little falling-out yesterday."
"Harvey." Mitzi snorted. "He'd leave you sitting alone while he conducted business. You need to let go a little. Dance. Have fun. I wish we knew some nice unattached man."
"I've almost decided to stay home. It's really a couples thing."
"Nonsense. Maybe you'll meet someone there. Get a sexy new dress. It'll be fun. The three of us will kick back and hang loose."
Sarah coasted up to the curb and parked in the shade of a fat banana palm. She sighed heavily. "Sometimes I think Sarah Michaels can't hang loose, Mitzi. There are times I wonder if I lived under my father's military regimen for so long I can't relax."
Mitzi's gaze narrowed. "The Sarah Michaels I know can do anything she sets her mind to. Now hear this. We are going on a shopping spree. Let's say next week, one day after work. I'll ask Mom to keep Mike. Now, don't object. I won't take no for an answer." She leapt from the car.
Sarah shook her head as Mitzi departed. She watched her skip up the walkway and wondered when, if ever, she'd had that much energy. Yet it was impossible to be around Mitzi and not share some of her enthusiasm.
By the time Sarah reached her building she'd begun to refigure her monthly bills, to see how much she could squeeze out for a dress. It might be just what she needed to lift her spirits.
Imbued with Mitzi's zest for living, Sarah took the stairs, instead of the elevator. Or was it to avoid Harvey, who had a tendency to blame her tardiness on her son? This morning she didn't feel like dealing with one of his lectures.
Good. His door was closed. Sarah went to her desk. Lou and the other lawyers also appeared too busy to notice her late arrival. She turned on her computer and caught the telephone on the first ring, popping a tape into her transcriber with a free hand. All in all, she found routine comforting, Sarah thought, as she got up to pull a file. Which was why she should never have married a spur-of-the-moment man.
And now Mitzi was suggesting she throw caution to the winds again. The notion amused her, even as she listened to Harvey drone monotonously on the tape. She was working on his final brief when a new client arrived for him. Sarah hit his intercom. As was customary, he came out. What wasn't customary was the way he lingered, chatting idly with the petite red-haired woman.
According to her file, the new client was being sued by her deceased husband's children for a greater share of his estate. Privately, Sarah thought her story didn't quite match the shrewdness of her eyes. In fact, Sarah felt sorry for Harvey and wondered why he didn't refer the case to one of the new staff lawyers.
So she was shocked when he came out at noon and instructed her to make reservations for two at an exclusive restaurant on the bay. The woman clung to his arm and he put on a disgusting display of jocularity so totally out of character that Sarah wondered if it had been for her benefit. Was he trying to make her jealous?
The idea was ludicrous. But right then, Sarah knew she'd never truly considered Harvey a love interest. Almost sadly, she mourned the loss of what apparently had never been— the possibility of remarriage some day.
The telephone shrilled. She reached out absentmindedly. "Page and Associates," she said, her voice a little husky with regret.
"No wonder Lou Page is one of the most successful lawyers on the island," drawled a teasing baritone. "I'd switch firms in a minute for a chance to meet a lady with such a sexy voice."
Sarah's heart rate escalated—until she recalled how, on this very telephone, he had flirted with Sheena Maxwell.
Gabe Parker charmed women as naturally as some men breathed.
"What can I do for you?" Sarah employed her most professional tone. "Everyone's at lunch, but I'll be happy to take a message."
He hesitated briefly. "I'm calling you, Sarah. I'm afraid I have to cancel out on Mike's game next week."
Last week, Sarah had been prepared for such a call. Today, having been lulled into complacency by his attentive-ness, she lacked a ready reply.
"Sarah?"
"I heard." She paused. "You're giving me plenty of notice. Frankly, that's more than I expected."
"Dammit, Sarah, why do you always make it sound like I'm unreliable? I hate doing this, and I want to tell him myself. The reason I called was to ask if I could pick him up from practice tonight and maybe take him out for the hamburgers I promised. Obviously that's not a good idea. Forget it. Handle telling him however you think is best. Goodbye."
"No. Wait. Gabe—" A sharp click met Sarah's belated protest. She frowned at the buzzing receiver for a moment and dr
ummed her fingers on the desk. She'd been unforgivably rude. And if Mike ever found out she'd denied him a burger with Gabe for omelets at home, well…
Digging in her purse, Sarah found the card Gabe had given her. Considering the hour, she took a wild guess and punched out the numbers to the marina.
"Parker," growled a voice at the other end.
Sarah wasn't sure the phone had even rung. Did that rough voice belong to Gabe or another Parker? "Gabe?" she asked timidly. "Is that you?"
"You expected one of my harem, maybe? Sorry to disappoint you, Sarah. What do you want? I'm too busy today for games."
Sarah chewed her lip. "I don't blame you for being cross. I was rude earlier. I called back to tell you that Mike would be in seventh heaven if he got to go out for hamburgers with you."
The silence stretched for so long Sarah tasted blood on her lip. Well, it was up to him. If he didn't want to accept her apology, that was his problem. When it appeared he wasn't going to, she threw his card into her middle drawer and slammed it closed. She'd just started to hang up and almost missed his soft response.
"My offer stands," he said in a weary voice. "I wonder, though, what's behind your sudden change of heart. Did good old Harvey come back and invite you to choir practice? Or with Mike gone, will you and the choirboy make a little music at home?"
"It's a quartet. And he—that is, we…" She gave a sigh of frustration. "Just forget it, Parker. For your information, Harvey took a classy redhead to lunch today and I haven't seen him since."
"Jealous?" he shot back.
"Certainly not," she told him. "Not that it would be your concern if I was. So, are you or aren't you picking Mike up tonight? I'm busy, too."
"Temper, temper. Look, if you're really not tied up tonight, come with us." He said it lightly, but Sarah didn't want to be tempted. Especially after making the decision to keep their social lives separate. She battled temptation for so long Gabe finally spoke.
Actually he laughed. "I thought as much," he said. "I'D have Mike home early—before you call the cops." He hung up, and Sarah slammed her receiver down. For two cents she'd show up at the parking lot and horn in on their outing. Except that Mike would be embarrassed if she did, and after that lunch with Harvey, he deserved some fun.