Until She Met Daniel

by Callie Endicott

  At her coffeemaker, she refilled her cup and loaded it with cream and sugar. Sometimes she took it black, but right now she needed something to cushion her acid stomach. It was close to six and there was no one else in the building. Perhaps she should suggest they pick this up another time. He had a daughter at home, and Joyce shouldn’t have to wait to serve supper.

  Daniel’s raised voice suddenly made its way down the hallway. Wincing, Mandy couldn’t avoid catching every word.

  “Damn it, Celia, you promised her....Don’t you want to see where your own daughter is now living?...No, I don’t....I didn’t say he couldn’t come....It’s her birthday. Can’t you make that much effort?...Hell...Be sure of it.” His voice became sarcastic. “It’s the least you can do, and I mean that literally.”

  Mandy swallowed.

  Not sure what she should do, she picked up her mug and walked slowly back to Daniel’s office. He was standing, looking at the picture of his daughter, which he’d put in a central place along the polished wall of shelves.

  “You heard that, didn’t you?” he muttered.

  “Yeah, but I was trying not to listen.”

  “It was thoughtful of you to step out. Losing control was my own fault.”

  She regarded him with unwilling sympathy, certain he wasn’t the sort of man who easily admitted that he could lose control.

  “I don’t understand,” he murmured distractedly. “I just don’t get it. How can a mother care so little about her own child?”

  “There’s no guarantee a woman will have the mothering instinct, but it must be rough on Samantha.”

  “It is. Celia told Samantha that she’d come to help celebrate her birthday, but now she’s just sending a gift, which I suspect will arrive late, if at all. I don’t know how to explain it to my daughter.”

  Poor kid.

  Mandy hardly knew what to say. In fact, there wasn’t anything to say. Words couldn’t make it better. Even if she was part of the family—Samantha’s aunt or something—she wouldn’t be able to fix it. Mandy’s stomach turned over. It always felt as if she ought to be able to take care of things for people and she felt rotten when she couldn’t.

  “I didn’t push Celia to have a baby,” Daniel continued, almost to himself. “I wanted a child and she seemed to feel the same. But the older Samantha got, the less interest Celia seemed to have in her. Instead, Celia focused on her looks and designer clothing and what the ‘beautiful people’ are doing.”

  Mandy had experience with a disinterested mother. In her own way, Elenora Colson had lost interest in Mandy as it became more and more apparent that her daughter wasn’t going to be a scientist or professor. Mandy had done well in school—she just didn’t want to live in the rarified academic world her parents enjoyed.

  “Was Samantha the kind of daughter your wife thought she’d have?” she asked. “If she isn’t, then Celia might have trouble connecting because of it.”

  He sighed heavily. “I suppose it’s that as much as anything. Samantha isn’t like her mother. She loves to read and draw, and she doesn’t care much about clothing or how her hair is done. Well, except she does enjoy the Disney princesses.”

  “Princesses have a perennial fascination for a lot of little girls, including tomboys. Um, I know it’s none of my business, but has Samantha always been so timid?”

  Daniel sighed. “Yes. I’m not sure why. I’m not even sure I can blame it on Celia’s lack of interest.”

  The clock in the City Hall tower began chiming the hour.

  Daniel cocked his head. “At first I wasn’t sure I appreciated having the clock ringing the Westminster chimes every hour, but I’m beginning to appreciate it.”

  “I like it, too,” Mandy agreed, guessing he didn’t want to discuss his family any longer. He was probably already kicking himself for saying so much; he seemed to guard his privacy. “But I grew up with the Westminster chimes, so I’m used to them. My folks had a wonderful old Swiss mantel clock and if it didn’t ring within half a minute of the university’s tower clock, they rushed it into the repair shop.”

  Daniel chuckled. “Didn’t it occur to them that the university’s clock might be off, instead of theirs?”

  “Apparently not, but I guess you have to have faith in something.”

  He nodded and gestured toward the papers on his desk. “Do you want to continue this now, or wait for another day?”

  “It doesn’t matter to me. Mr. Spock doesn’t care when I come home. Actually, I take that back. Cats are stalwart creatures of habit, but I haven’t obliged, much to his displeasure. You’re the one with family.”

  “It’s a moot point tonight. Joyce took Samantha into Vicksville to find some things she needs for school, and they’re eating there. Why don’t I order a pizza?”

  “Sure. Make half of it a Mandy’s Special.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Mandy laughed. “That’s what they call it down at the pizza parlor. It isn’t on the menu, but it’s what I usually order. Chicken, bacon, mushrooms, olives and artichoke hearts, with extra sauce.”

  “That sounds good. We’ll make the whole pizza a ‘Mandy’s Special.’”

  A short while later, Mandy saw the sign on Shawn’s car and ran out to meet him.

  “Here’s your change,” she said, coming back and dropping a handful of bills and coins on Daniel’s desk.

  He frowned. “I shouldn’t get that much change.”

  “I paid for half. Hope you don’t mind that I tipped generously. Shawn’s father is a pastor, and his family can’t contribute much toward sending him through college, so he’s saving like mad.”

  “That’s fine, but I planned to pay for all of it.”

  “Coworkers are supposed to go Dutch.” Mandy opened the box and pulled out a steaming slice. “Mmm,” she breathed. “I haven’t ordered one of these for weeks.”

  * * *

  DANIEL LET OUT a breath. Hindsight was a hundred percent, and he was coming to the conclusion that having dinner with Mandy may have been a bad idea. Which didn’t make sense. He’d eaten dozens of pizzas with coworkers over the years—working lunches or dinners weren’t uncommon in high-pressure periods.

  Mandy shouldn’t be any different...except she was different. And Willow’s Eve wasn’t the same as a big city. Perhaps he should consider changing his approach to the job. Mandy had tried to suggest it the first day they’d met, and a few other times, as well. But while it was something to think about, he had no intention of abandoning his professionalism to emulate her carefree manner.

  Picking up a piece of “Mandy’s Special,” he took a bite and chewed appreciatively. It was a good combination, though he probably wouldn’t have thought of it on his own. His usual choices were simple, plain cheese or pepperoni, because Samantha wasn’t adventurous.

  He watched as Mandy sprinkled hot pepper flakes on the remainder of her slice.

  “I see you enjoy burning your mouth,” he commented.

  “Sure. I read something once, about how some people eat the so-called ‘dangerous’ foods. You know, basically stuff that in your culture are the last thing anyone would eat. Like frog’s legs for some people, sweetbreads or chocolate-covered grasshoppers, or maybe French-fried caterpillars. I couldn’t handle those, but hot peppers were a revelation for me once I got out on my own. The spiciest thing on my mom and dad’s table was the black pepper shaker, and the pepper in it was at least fifteen years old, so it was pretty wimpy.”

  “That sounds similar to the way I grew up,” Daniel said, remembering the tasteless food from his childhood. At some point he’d realized it was a queer revenge on his father. “My mother wasn’t much of a cook.”

  “My mother is fairly good in the kitchen, and my dad isn’t horrible, either. They simply don’t venture beyond the kind of thing y
ou’d find on a table in Leave It to Beaver.”

  “Meat, a starch of some type, a vegetable and salad?” Daniel guessed.

  “Right. There was a trend when I was in high school to experiment with foods of other cultures, but my parents firmly resisted. After all, they wouldn’t want to be accused of succumbing to peer pressure.” Her eyes gleamed with laughter. In this light, they were a darker green, with glowing depths that hinted at mysteries.

  Mandy ate two slices, then sat back in her chair and sighed. “That was good. Now I can concentrate better.”

  They worked for another hour, but the items on Mandy’s list were still only partially covered.

  “We can pick this up next week,” Daniel suggested. “Unfortunately, the issue will still be with us.”

  “Yeah. You know, I feel as if I’m chasing a great white whale. I can’t stop, but catching it may be just as bad.”

  “You’re a Moby Dick fan?”

  “I majored in English lit and spent time with all the classics. My parents were pleased when I chose it, but that’s because they thought I’d get a doctorate and teach.”

  “Otherwise, it’s an interesting area of study, but not very marketable?”

  “You must have met my folks,” she replied with a grin. “You’ve got them pegged.”

  He looked at the pizza on his desk and pushed it toward her. “Take that home. Samantha’s taste buds aren’t any more adventurous than your parents’ palates.”

  “Tell you what, I’ll put it in the microfridge in my office so it’s available on Monday for snacks.”

  * * *

  MANDY TOOK THE pizza box into her office and pulled out a plastic ziplock bag to store the leftover slices. As she straightened and stepped back from the refrigerator, her foot rolled on something and she plopped onto the floor.

  “Crap,” she muttered. “What a klutz.”

  Daniel hurried through her door a second later and saw her sprawled on the wood flooring.

  “I heard a loud thump. You okay?”

  “Sure, just embarrassed by my two left feet. That’s why I’m not a runner. I’d probably fall down a rabbit hole like Alice in Wonderland. Then where would I be? The Queen of Hearts would be chopping off my head.” She groped under her sore rear end, found the pen that had started her foot on its sideways journey, and held it up. “Here’s the culprit. Let’s have it arrested for unauthorized loitering.”

  Daniel extended an arm to help her upright, and Mandy gulped as she lurched against his muscular frame. Man, did she want to know how it felt to be held tight and be thoroughly kissed for once in her life. Her ex-husband didn’t count. He’d done everything in a restrained manner, as if he didn’t really approve of sex.

  She stepped back and tried to smile, only to realize Daniel was looking at her in a way that wasn’t at all collegial. Suddenly, he pulled her close and bent down to press his lips against hers. Energy popped and she snuggled into an embrace that was as good as she’d imagined. His mouth was firm, while his hands began checking out her waist, then started for her breasts.

  But a second later, Daniel released her so fast she nearly fell again. He stepped a few feet away.

  Mandy swallowed. “Well,” she said as cheerfully as she could. “I’ve thought men and women who work closely should get kissing out of the way as soon as possible. Satisfying any curiosity takes the elephant out of the room.”

  His eyebrow lifted and his breathing slowed. “That’s hardly a strategy taught in public administration or sexual ethics courses.”

  “Naturally. Those are all about procedures and rules, not about real people.” Mandy felt uncomfortable about arguing the point because there were awfully good reasons for those particular rules, even if they didn’t apply in this case because Daniel hadn’t been harassing her.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” he argued. “The rules, especially about this sort of thing, are intended to protect people on both sides.”

  “Careful,” she warned, “you’re sounding stuffy again.”

  He stiffened. “I don’t take this sort of thing lightly.”

  “And I do?”

  “I have no way of knowing. And in any case, it can’t happen again.”

  Lord. Mandy rolled her eyes. “I agree, but now you’re laying down the law as if I’d suggested a nightly snuggle. That’s insulting. The under-forty single men in this town outnumber the under-forty single women, so it isn’t as if I haven’t had my share of offers.”

  “That isn’t what I meant. Frankly, we aren’t compatible.”

  Mandy gritted her teeth. “I don’t know where that came from. We were discussing sexual ethics, not compatibility. But it’s still something we can agree on. I explained to you weeks ago that I don’t want to get tied down. If you recall, I’m the one who brought the subject up in the first place, to make sure nobody got stupid ideas. But if you still need reassurances, I’m staying footloose and fancy-free. If I wanted to be married, I’d be married. I’m not cut out for settling down or doing the domestic thing, so you can just stuff those rules up your...” She stopped, realizing she was about to say something extremely rude.

  Daniel stared, reminding her so much of a deer caught in the headlights that she wanted to kick him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that so bluntly. But I’m concerned. Samantha is already intrigued by you and Mr. Spock, and she doesn’t need to start thinking you’re going to become an important part of her life, only to have her heart broken when you move on again.”

  “I understand. I don’t live the way you think I should, so I’m a terrible influence on children.”

  “That isn’t what I meant.”

  Ha.

  Men were skunks. Look at Chris. He’d walked out on his marriage because Susan didn’t agree with him the way he thought she should. Yet even as the thought crossed her mind, Mandy threw on the brakes. She wasn’t being fair to the male half of the human race and she was not taking sides in the Russells’ marital woes; she cared about them both, and their marriage was obviously in trouble because of a lot more than a water issue.

  It was so damned depressing. And she couldn’t even do anything to help them.

  “Let’s just drop it, okay?” Daniel said tiredly.

  She shrugged. “Fine with me. I’m going home.”

  In silence, she locked her office and walked out the north exit, glad she’d parked on the opposite side of the building from where Daniel had left his Jeep. When she got home, she turned on the baseball playoff game and tried not to relive those few moments in his arms.

  It had answered one question, though. If Daniel had found her attractive enough tonight to let down his barriers and kiss her, he probably had gotten aroused during that one argument.

  It didn’t change anything. And however annoying she’d found his comments about them being incompatible, she knew it was true. The fact that he was hot as blazes didn’t make him the right kind of man for her, and it didn’t make her the right kind of woman for him.

  She needed someone who could accept her as she was and not try to change her. And that wasn’t likely to happen.

  So that was that.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE HOUSE WAS empty and silent when Daniel arrived home, which did nothing to distract him from thinking about the mistake he’d made with Mandy, and the even bigger mistake his body was clamoring to make.

  Hell. A long cold shower would help...he hoped.

  By the time Joyce and Samantha had returned, Daniel had quelled the worst of his body’s inconvenient cravings.

  “Hi, honey,” he greeted as Samantha jumped onto his lap and told him about the hamburgers they’d eaten.

  “And Grandma says she thinks we can get cool Halloween cat napkins and plates for my birthday party. Mandy told her
about a store with all kinds of neat stuff. Is that okay, or should I be Cinderella? Mama would like Cinderella.”

  “Halloween cats are great,” he told her, swallowing painfully and deciding it was best to break the news about Celia right away. “Your mother called me this evening.”

  “She did?” Samantha had been twisting the fringe on her coat into spirals. Now she dropped it and stared at him.

  “Yeah.” He exchanged a glance with Joyce. “I’m sorry, honey, but she can’t come after all.”

  “Oh.” Samantha’s lower lip trembled, then grew still again. “I’m gonna go upstairs now.”

  Samantha slid off his lap and she trudged out of the living room, her shoulders sagging.

  “I don’t understand my own child,” Joyce said softly. “I never have. Maybe if we’d had her when we were younger. We’d given up hoping for children, and then all those years after we were married, Celia came along. Perhaps I overindulged her as a consequence.”

  He spread his hands noncommittally. This was the most awkward part of having his ex-mother-in-law live with him—when her daughter came into the conversation.

  * * *

  DANIEL WAS AT City Hall by seven-thirty the next morning and found Mandy in the hallway, redoing the community bulletin board.

  “Good morning,” she said. “Do you need to post anything on the board?”

  Apparently, she was pretending nothing had happened. And after all, nothing significant had occurred aside from his lack of diplomacy.

  So what if they’d shared a kiss? Maybe she was right and now that any curiosity had been satisfied, they could go on as simply neighbors and coworkers. She had her goal of being commitment free and able to move on when she wanted. He had his plan for taking care of his family and moving into big-city government. A kiss didn’t have to be invested with any meaning.

  “No,” he said. “Nothing at the moment.”

  “Did Joyce get everything done for Samantha last night?”