Читать книгу Bad Heiress Day - Allie Pleiter - Страница 12

Jack practically craned his head out the window to take in the snazzy sports car in Ed Bidwell’s driveway. It was small and shiny—a take-no-prisoners red color—and slick enough for its own Bond movie. “Wow. Getta load of that thing, will you?” Jack had been none too keen on keeping this brunch date, but Darcy smiled to herself at Jack’s sudden change of heart. Evidently Pastor Doug knew just how to get Jack Nightengale’s attention. Or Someone Else did.

Not quite ready to chalk it up to divine intervention, Darcy surmised that all well-to-do men indulged in fancy cars. A testosteronized version of the three-stone, multi-carat ring every well-to-do woman seemed to own. The rings in the magazine and television ads, with adoring husbands shouting their affections in Italian streets and other wildly romantic venues.

Her brain flashed a quick, unlikely scene: Jack, in black turtleneck—unheard of—and leather sport coat—fat chance—and hair with just a touch of gel to make it look truly dashing—possible but not likely—by the Tuscan seashore. Crusty bread and Brie replacing Doritos and onion dip, a deliciously small black velvet box in his hand. Surging waves of violin music filled the air. With an elegant flair and a twinkle in his dark eye, he flips the lid to reveal one of those anniversary rings that are supposed to let you know he’d marry you all over again. Three whopping stones, cuddled next to each other in a bed of gold. Dazzling. Adding elegance to any hand, even one picking Play-Doh off the couch cushions….

“Dar?”

Jack was already out of the car, standing outside her door, hand ready to knock on the window if that’s what it took to get her attention. How long had that little daydream gone on?

“Oh, I get it,” Jack said, “I’m supposed to open the door for you and such now. This is a high-class affair.”

Darcy fumbled with her purse. “No, I just…My mind went somewhere.”

“No kidding.” Jack actually looked a little nervous. Darcy had to admit she felt the same. The whole setup felt odd and unnatural. Jack nudged Darcy with his hip, a gesture he’d done when they first dated. “Can I get one of those?” he said, pointing to the four-wheeled wonder.

“A two-car garage? Sure, hon.” She nudged him back. Wow. She couldn’t even remember the last time they’d done that to each other.

“Very funny.” Jack ran a fidgety hand through his hair as they started up the walkway to the Bidwells’ front door. “This feels weird. I don’t know about this. I mean, we don’t know these people from Adam.”

“I know. But it’s one brunch. Maybe they’re really nice. It couldn’t hurt. Besides, if you behave, maybe Ed will let you near that car….”

Jack rubbed his hands together in a let-me-at-’em gesture just before he pushed the doorbell button. “Think there’s a butler?”

Darcy giggled just a bit. “Jack…”

The door swung open to reveal Ed Bidwell. Or a man who Darcy guessed was Ed Bidwell. He didn’t look anything like she was expecting. He looked more like everybody’s favorite grandfather than a printing magnate. He had a round, jovial face framed by a balding wreath of white hair. Gold wire glasses, hosting a pair of rather thick lenses, gave his water-colored eyes an oversize, magnified appearance. He had on an ordinary-looking plaid shirt and khakis, but Darcy noticed his belt and shoes were of a thick, soft, expensive-looking leather. He held his hands out.

“Jack. And Darcy. Saw you come up the walk. Ed. Ed Bidwell. Come on in. Come on in.” He called down the hall as he took Darcy’s coat. “Glyn, honey! They’re here!”

“I can see out the windows just the same as you, Bid. I’m coming.” Both their voices held the tint of a Southern upbringing, but softened from what sounded like years in the Midwest. Glynnis Bidwell came down the hall, tossing a dish towel on a side table as she did.

She was the pepper to her husband’s salt—all dark but graying hair and wide brown eyes, her skin olive-colored to his fair skin. They were like a pair of ceramic salt shakers, the two of them: same size, same jovially heavy build, same sparkle in the eyes. They looked like the kind of couple you’d ask to play Mr. and Mrs. Claus at the church Christmas bazaar. That is, if Better Homes and Gardens ran your church Christmas bazaar.

“Darcy, so nice to meet you. I’m Glynnis Bidwell.” She reached out a friendly hand. Well manicured, still damp, and boasting a one-stone ring. It was, however, a rather large stone. Darcy chided herself for even looking.

“See you’ve met Ed. And you must be Jack. Glad to meet you, too. Don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing Ed’s baby out there in the driveway. Go on, Bid, show your toys off. I’d much rather have the two of you out of my hair than in the kitchen anyway.” She shooed the men off as if telling her grandsons to go play in the yard.

Ed smiled, not bothering to hide his enthusiasm. “Glyn never misses anything.” He winked at Jack. “Makes it hard to misbehave, but God must’ve known I needed watching, hmm?” Jack shot Darcy a quick you-didn’t-tell-me-they-were-one-of-those looks, hopefully too quick for Glynnis to catch. “Like Coke, do you Jack? I got a thing for Cherry Coke. Keep a whole fridge of it in my garage. Can I stand you a drink, sir?”

Jack put up no resistance whatsoever as he let Ed Bidwell guide him into what must surely be a Man’s Wildest Dream of a garage. Cool cars and Cherry Coke. Maybe Someone had known just how to put those two together.

Darcy looked back from watching them leave to find Glynnis eyeing her with one hand on her hip. Ouch. She had seen Jack’s quick glance. Funny though, she didn’t seem annoyed. More like she’d just received confirmation of a suspicion. “Jack wasn’t itching to come here, was he?”

“Well,” Darcy hedged, thinking she should be polite, but also quite sure no one pulled anything over on Glynnis Bidwell, “all of this has got us rather…baffled.”

Glynnis shrugged a bit in her orange cardigan, fastening the two bottom buttons. “The world’s a baffling place these days. Don’t blame you one bit for feeling like someone’s just shook the inside of your snow globe.” She looked up from her buttons. “If even half of what Doug’s told me is true—and I know he’s only told me the half of it—then you were up to your eyeballs in sticky issues even before the world went on red alert.” Glynnis turned, tucked Darcy’s arm in the crook of her elbow and headed toward the kitchen. “Let those boys drown themselves in sugar water.” She snatched the dish towel as she went past. “I’ve made us some ice tea.”

Darcy wondered if the sugar water remark was a joke as she watched Glynnis dump not two but four spoonfuls of sugar into her own ice tea. “I like life sweet. And I think saccharin is for the birds, even if my thighs might be thinner for it,” she said, catching Darcy’s glance. Man, this woman did not miss a trick.