by Tawna Fenske
“You worry too much,” his sister always told him.
Bethany had a point. He hated when that happened.
He spent the rest of the afternoon trying to keep his body and brain occupied. He took the dogs for a hike along the river and spent an hour volunteering at the Humane Society. Sorted through some bills, played a game of Angry Birds on his iPhone. At five o’clock, Will changed out of his jeans and into—well, a pair of jeans with fewer holes.
Board meetings were one of the few times he made a concession to playing dress-up, but there was no need at a charity function that featured animals defecating in the foyer. Pulling on a faded T-shirt, he straightened it so the picture of two unicorns humping settled squarely in the middle of his chest. He started to grab his slippers, but remembered Bethany’s chiding.
“Sandals,” he said aloud, and stuffed his feet into a pair of old Birkenstocks.
He wandered out to the living room where his three dogs were lined up on the sofa like a furry welcoming committee. Rosco, the German shepherd mix, eyed Will with curiosity and thumped his tail on the couch cushions. Polly licked the end of her stubby pug nose and yawned. Omar lay there like a fuzzy blend of boulder and spaniel.
“How do I look?” he asked them.
Rosco cocked one ear and barked. Polly rolled onto her back for a belly rub, while Omar—deaf as a doornail for longer than he’d lived with Will—kept right on sleeping.
“Excellent,” Will said, grabbing his keys off the peg by the door. “Don’t wait up, guys.”
Rosco barked again and chewed a ratty tennis ball, while Omar snored. Polly hopped off the sofa and trotted over to him with a toy mouse in her mouth. She deposited it at his feet and looked up with buggy brown eyes.
“Thanks, girl,” Will said as he stooped to pick it up. “It’s the perfect hostess gift.”
He drove back to Bed’s house with the stereo blasting Debbie Gibson, his arm hanging out the window in the evening breeze. He sang along with “Electric Youth,” not caring that he was hopelessly out of tune. He pulled up the driveway and hadn’t even brought the car to a complete stop when a uniformed valet came running up.
“Sir, if I can have your car keys, sir.”
“Absolutely,” Will said. “Good idea auctioning it off for charity.”
“Sir?”
Will handed him the keys. “Don’t forget to charge extra for the dog fur on the seats.”
The valet looked relieved to be rid of Will as he maneuvered around the house to the parking area behind the barn. Will took a moment to dust dog fur off the sleeves of his button-down shirt before striding up the walkway.
The front door flew open before he had a chance to knock, and a constipated-looking butler waved Will inside.
“Sir, right this way.”
“Thanks,” Will said, and moved through the door.
He spotted the badgers right away, looking resplendent—if mildly annoyed—at the end of their mauve and green leashes. Darin was leading them around the perimeter of the room, allowing them to waddle slowly past the tipsy guests. A woman in a red dress clutching a champagne flute bent down and tried to pet Floyd, and Darin casually blocked her assault with a smile and a Cheez Whiz brochure about wildlife.
Will turned toward the badger cages, which were decked out with colorful ribbons woven with sprigs of juniper and tiny wildflowers. Marley had affixed mauve and green bows to the corners of their Plexiglas digging display, anchoring each with a bit of desert sage.
Will studied the décor, then Bed’s curtains. Damn if it wasn’t a perfect match.
Darin approached with the badgers and pulled a pair of thick leather gloves from his back pocket. “Hey, Will.”
“Darin, how’s it going?”
“Not bad, not bad,” he said as he yanked the gloves on and began laying down treats to urge Frank up the ramp leading to the cage.
“Didn’t those gloves used to be brown leather?”
Darin grinned and locked Frank in his cage before reaching for Floyd’s leash. “Once upon a time they did. Marley asked if I wouldn’t mind coloring them with pink shoe polish for the event. The hostess wanted everything mauve, and Marley said it would look chic.”
Darin pronounced it “chick” instead of “sheik,” and Will wondered if he was being facetious or just wasn’t familiar with the word. Either way, Will fought a twinge of annoyance at the thought of Marley making fashion requests of the wildlife staff.
“Mauve is definitely your color,” Will said as Darin latched the cage and slid a piece of carrot through the bars for Floyd.
Darin laughed. “I don’t know about that, but Marley said she’d buy me a new pair when this is over. Can’t argue with that.”
“I don’t suppose you can. Any chance you’ve seen her around anywhere?”
“In the kitchen, I think. She told the hostess she loves antique silverware, so the old lady dragged her down the hall to check out her collection.”
“That sounds… not fun.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Will looked in on the badgers, who had already settled into their cages and appeared to be on the brink of a good nap. “They seem to be having a good time.”
“They fake it well.”
“They aren’t alone,” Will said, then turned and ambled down the hall.
The crowd was thick already, with guests milling about eating expensive hors d’oeuvres and sipping wine. Will said hello to a few people, pausing to shake hands, clap backs, and inquire about the health of peoples’ assorted loved ones, pets, and golf games. He continued his slow progression through the house, grateful he’d been here enough times to know the layout of the house.
He rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped in the doorway. It took him a moment to register details of the scene in front of him: Marley in a low-cut black dress and killer heels, her blond hair pinned up in an elaborate twist. Marley on a stool at the kitchen counter, her beautiful legs crossed with her shin lightly bumping the knee of the woman to her right. Marley with her head thrown back, her pale breasts moving with her laughter. Marley with her hand brushing the arm of the woman to her left in a gesture of… friendship? Shared humor? Something more?
Will realized he was balling his hands into fists and stopped, flexing his fingers gently as he studied the lovely, bare column of her neck.
At last, he took a step into the room. Then another, and another, until he was even with the jovial threesome. He swallowed and pasted on the same stiff smile he’d seen Marley wear just that morning.
“Ms. Cartman, good evening,” he said, and watched her turn to greet him. “I see you’ve met my sister and ex-wife.”
Chapter 4
Marley turned at the sound of Will’s voice and nearly dropped her crystal champagne flute. The ice in his eyes was enough to chill the blueberry tea in her glass.
“Will!” Bethany squealed, grabbing his arm. “Your ears must have been burning just now.”
“We were just talking about you,” April added in the sweet, almost childlike voice that matched the halo of wispy blond pixie curls around her face. Marley had spent the last twenty minutes resisting the urge to give one of April’s cherub cheeks an affectionate pinch. She tore her eyes off April’s cheeks and looked at Will’s face instead.
He wasn’t smiling and didn’t seem particularly delighted to have been a topic of conversation.
“We were talking about you in a positive way,” Marley interjected. “I promise your sister wasn’t telling me about your prom night zit or where you stashed your porn when you were sixteen.”
Will smiled a little at that, but his expression was still guarded. His mismatched eyes looked leery, and his jaw clenched tight.
“Ladies,” Will said, glancing down at his sister’s fingers still affixed to his sleeve. “I trust you’re enjoying y
ourselves?”
“You didn’t tell me the new development director was into mountain biking,” Bethany practically shouted. “The three of us are going out to Phil’s Trail for a ride next weekend.”
“You’re welcome to join us, Will,” April chirped sweetly. “Not this coming Saturday, but the following Saturday. We’re going to have a lovely time.”
“I was unaware Ms. Cartman was an enthusiastic trail rider,” Will said, turning to Marley. “I don’t believe she included that on her résumé.”
Marley smiled and took a sip of her iced tea. “Actually, you’re wrong there. I included it under hobbies, thinking it was important information to list when applying for a position in the recreation capital of the universe.”
Marley uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, and watched Will’s eyes drop to her calves. Okay, so she hadn’t actually ridden a mountain bike in ten years. She’d only put it on her résumé so she’d sound outdoorsy and well-rounded like everyone else in Central Oregon. She had the legs for the sport, thanks to countless hours on the elliptical machine. She could surely build up the requisite bike seat butt callus in time to hold her own along the trail with these two women.
“Actually, I never saw your résumé,” Will said. “I wasn’t part of the hiring committee, so I didn’t get a chance to review it.”
“Would you like me to send a copy to your office?”
Bethany laughed and slugged her brother in the arm. “I like the idea of Will in an office. That’s almost as funny as the idea of Will in a tie.”
Will smiled, though Marley noticed the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll have you know I wore a tie just this morning.”
April nodded, her blond pixie curls bobbing a little as her head moved. “The blue tie? I always loved your blue tie. Or the gray one. Or even the green was lovely.”
Marley was wracking her brain for a suitable subject change when Bethany beat her to the punch. “Have you seen Aunt Nancy around anywhere?”
Will shook his head. “Not yet. I just got here.”
“So you still have time to hide.”
Will smiled at that. “I take it she already found you?”
“Within the first five minutes she described a research project on triorchidism, told April her lipstick was too pink, and asked why Marley was drinking on the job.”
“Triorchidism?” Marley asked.
“Males with three testes,” Bethany supplied.
Will shook his head. “I didn’t need to know that.”
“Marley’s drinking iced tea,” April announced, and offered a sympathetic smile. “She brought her own from home, and it’s lovely.”
Lovely, Marley thought, and considered making a drinking game of April’s speech patterns. If everyone drank on the word lovely, the whole room would be tipsy in ten minutes. It was a good thing she’d brought her own tea.
Will quirked an eyebrow at Marley and nodded toward her champagne flute. “You travel with iced tea?”
“Blueberry.” Marley smiled and took a sip. “Would you like some?”
“Maybe later.”
“It smells absolutely lovely,” April sang.
Marley nodded at April and tried to imagine this sweet, soft-spoken woman being married to Will. It was a challenge, not only because their personalities seemed so different, but because April’s tiny, French-manicured fingers rested lightly on Bethany’s knee.
“I’m sure Aunt Nancy was just having a rough evening,” Marley offered.
“Nope, she’s always a bitch,” Bethany said cheerfully. “And she never lets anyone forget she was a sex therapist who authored three bestselling books and did groundbreaking research on deviant sexual behavior. Richer than God, though, so you’re going to want to get to know her.”
Marley winced, hating the way that sounded. “I’m always eager to meet any of the wildlife sanctuary’s supporters.”
Bethany eyed her and took a sip of wine. “You’re single, Marley?”
“Yes.”
“Straight?”
She hesitated, then realized this was a dumb answer to consider fudging in an effort to relate. “Yes, I’m straight.”
Bethany nodded. “We should introduce you to Todd Thomas. He’s cute, eligible, and rich. He’s a plastic surgeon. Not much of a supporter for the wildlife sanctuary, since he tends to donate to medical charities, but I’m sure you could be very persuasive with him.”
Will quirked an eyebrow at Marley. “See? Your ability to handle donors is legendary.”
“The two of you would make a lovely couple,” April chirped. “You and Todd, I mean. Not you and Will. Todd is a very nice man. Not that Will isn’t a nice man—”
“Actually, I’m not really interested in dating wealthy men right now,” Marley said. “But I can certainly talk with Todd about getting involved with Cascade Historical Society and Wildlife Sanctuary.”
“Cheez Whiz,” Will supplied.
“Not interested in dating wealthy men?” Bethany laughed. “That’s a new one.”
Marley flushed and glanced from Bethany to April to Will, worried she’d said the wrong thing. “I have nothing against people with money, of course. It’s just… well, I’m ready for a change.”
“A change?” Bethany asked.
“Something different from most of the men I’ve worked with or dated or been raised by,” she clarified.
“Ah, daddy issues—got it.” Bethany nodded. “I hear you, sistah.”
“No, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” April said, giving Marley’s knee a sympathetic pat. “We know plenty of perfectly lovely, single men who aren’t wealthy.”
Marley smiled and glanced over at Will. He was gritting his teeth so hard she heard them clack together.
“You’re probably smart,” Bethany said. “Most rich men are pricks. Present company excluded, of course.” She grinned at her brother, clearly goading him.
“My prick and I thank you for excluding us from the insult,” Will replied evenly.
April looked uncomfortable, and Marley wondered if it was the crudeness of the discussion, or the mere mention of her ex-husband’s genitalia.
Fortunately, they were all spared from continuing the conversation when Darin approached, leading one of the badgers on a mauve leash. “We’re getting ready to start the digging in about twenty minutes.”
Will looked at Darin and shrugged. “I really think the badgers would do a better job, but I do have a trowel in my car.”
Marley rolled her eyes at Will before turning to smile at Darin. “I’ll get everyone’s attention in just a few minutes and direct them all into the other room. Does it seem like they’re having a good time?”
Darin quirked an eyebrow. “The badgers?”
Will glanced down. “Floyd looks a little depressed, actually. Maybe he prefers Shiraz to Pinot Noir?”
Marley gave Will a playful slug in the arm. “I meant the guests.”
“The guests seem to be enjoying themselves,” Darin said. “We’ve already raised some nice funds charging people to have their photo taken with a badger, though I keep having to fend off guests who want to pet them.”
Marley hopped off her stool and gave Will a gentle shove. “Why don’t you come help me round people up for the badger digging?”
Will slid off his barstool with maddening ease, his mismatched eyes flashing with amusement. “At your service.”
***
Will had lied about one thing—he actually had seen a copy of Marley’s résumé.
Nowhere in the document had she mentioned a history of assisting big rodents in displacing large quantities of soil.
But as Will watched Marley work the crowd—and the badger—like a champ, he had to admire her ability to leap with ease into new circumstances. Her smile was broad and g
enuine, and she had easily coaxed the crowd into wagering large sums of money on how long Floyd the badger would take to dig to the bottom of the Plexiglas cube.
“Fourteen-point-two-three seconds!” Marley shouted as Floyd emerged at the bottom of the cube with his tawny fur caked in dirt. Marley dropped the treat in front of him, and he snatched it quickly and sniffed for more. Darin stooped at the base of the badger-sized off-ramp and clipped the leash back onto Floyd’s harness as Marley stepped around them and reached for a black notebook on the corner of a table.
“Let’s take a look at our list of wagers here,” she called as she held the notebook up for the crowd. “It looks like Marcia Arbol had the closest badger bet with fourteen-point-three seconds. Congratulations, Marcia! You’ve won—”
Will tuned out, not particularly interested in whether Marcia had earned a Cheez Whiz membership or a plaque on a bench as a reward for her thousand-dollar bet on Floyd’s digging skills. It never ceased to amaze Will what gimmicks would prompt people to give generously at charity events. As long as other people saw them forking out large sums of cash, people were willing to donate to just about anything.
At least it’s for a good cause, he reminded himself. Stop being a dick.
It was true; Marley had raised a lot of money for Cheez Whiz tonight. That’s what mattered.
What didn’t matter—at least that’s what Will kept telling himself—is that he’d stopped at Cheez Whiz earlier in the day and asked Susan for a copy of Marley’s résumé.
He’d tried to act casual, leaning against the file cabinet as Susan rifled through the drawers and explained how the hiring committee had narrowed the field from more than a hundred applicants to the top five finalists, with Marley at the head of the pack.
“You probably recall we gave the board of directors a chance to review the finalists’ résumés before we made a decision,” Susan said as she pulled out a file and began rifling through the contents.
“I remember that,” Will said. “I trusted the hiring committee’s judgment one hundred percent, so I didn’t feel a need to review their documents. But now that Ms. Cartman is here, I feel it’s in my best interest to make sure I know a bit more about her background.”