Читать книгу Her Reason To Stay - Anna Adams - Страница 10

MITCH ESPY CAME around his desk to take a check from Patrick’s hand. Every so often Lisa called Mitch with a request for money. Blackmail. As long as Patrick paid her, she stayed away from Honesty. And Will.

“Don’t worry.” Mitch laid a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “If Lisa comes back, we’ll be ready for her.”

“She’ll be back. Don’t think for a moment she won’t. Just come up with a cogent argument for the day she takes us back to court. I’ll never allow her to be alone with Will again as long as I live.”

Mitch nodded. “I understand, but no judge in his right mind will allow her visitation until she takes care of the problem.” He waved the check. “This will keep her at bay a while. It’s money she wants.”

But Patrick, whose anger at her almost consumed him, didn’t believe that someday she wouldn’t remember how to love Will again.

“She wants the money for drugs, Mitch. I’m paying to keep her high.”

“I can’t argue the morals of that again. Will’s safety has to come first. Besides, if she could admit she’s addicted, she’d be in treatment.”

Talking about it—hell, thinking about it—made him too angry to think straight. “Send her the damn check and add the usual note. After she’s in treatment, she can get in touch.” His skin crawled when he thought how easily she could make her way back to town and into his son’s life.

Moments later, he was out on the sidewalk, hurrying toward his office. He still had an arraignment and a deposition to deal with before he picked up Will from his mother’s house.

Just then a spring breeze gusted across the square, lifting the hem of a printed, pale orange sundress on the woman seated on a bench. Daphne caught her hem and smoothed it over her crossed knees.

He slowed down. Adjusted his tie. Longed not to care so much that her bare legs looked long and smooth and he could imagine the infinite pleasure of stroking her skin.

“Daphne?”

She looked up, her eyes blank as her mind was obviously elsewhere. But when she recognized him, her body seemed to take over. She sat up straighter, lifting her breasts, tightening the cross of her legs.

“Hey, Patrick.”

Her voice was about three octaves huskier than Raina’s, and the sweet tones got inside his head.

“What’s up?” It wasn’t much. It was the best he could manage. “Did you get a new room?”

She looked blank again. “Oh. That.” She scooted aside in an unspoken invitation for him to join her. “I got distracted on my way to the office. The lock’s fine.”

“Are you nuts? You need iron bars, but the chain should at least work. Call the hotel and have them fix it while you’re out.”

Her smile mocked his naiveté. “You saw the place. I’m not sure that guy at the desk could unfasten his a—himself from the seat of his chair. He’s certainly not up to installing hardware.”

“Either change rooms, have him fix it, or I’ll come fix it.”

She stared at him.

“Most women would think I’m overstepping,” he said.

“Uh-huh.”

They stared at each other, and it was like drinking his fill when he was dying of thirst. Finally, he had to look away.

“Why do you care?” she asked.

Good question. One that had kept him awake for the two nights since he’d last seen her.

“Put it down to an urge to run my own patriarchal society. I look after your sister. I’m my mother’s financial adviser. For my ex-wife…” He’d nursed Lisa for years, thinking she was on the verge of death. “I’m tired of being responsible, but it’s a hard habit to break.”

“Okay. Don’t worry.”

“I will if you don’t get it fixed.”

“I can use a screwdriver as well as the guy in the office.” She lifted the paper he hadn’t noticed on her lap. “I’m looking for a job. Do you know a Mrs. Hennigan? She’s so desperate for child care she offered me the chance to look after her boys.”

“Did you accept it?”

“I saw her son Tyler riding their beagle. Tyler’s two, and the beagle must be about eighty-two. I figured I’d have to report Tyler to the SPCA, and that wouldn’t win me any points with his mommy.”

“What about the older one? Drake?”

“He hit me with a spitball in the back of the head before I could escape the house. Mrs. Hennigan says the boys are having separation anxiety since their last nanny left. I’m betting they could find her in the nearest home for child-care providers driven crazy by their charges.”

“What did you do before you came here?”

“Whatever.”

Oh, yeah. He’d already tried that.

“You weren’t boosting cars?”

“I’m not sure you’re joking.”

The suggestion seemed to spook him. “Why?” He shook his head. “Raina was right. I could find something for you in my office.”

“Don’t tempt me.” She pleated her skirt with her fingers, then added, “I upset Raina.”

He tugged at his collar, not wanting to know. “Yeah?” The arraignment, the deposition, his son’s fears, as well as Will’s longing for his mother, all had a place in line for Patrick’s attention. He had enough to do. Walking away from both Raina and Daphne would be the smartest thing to do. “What happened?”

“She told me something.” Daphne scooped her hair behind her ear. “I was shocked, and she got upset.”

“How could Raina shock you?”

Daphne twisted her mouth. “I’m not sure I can say.”

“Did you talk it out with her?”

“She walked out. I ran after her, but I couldn’t find her.” She went back to ironing her skirt with her index finger and thumb. “I’ve tried calling her, but she doesn’t answer. Is she good at holding grudges?”

“I can’t remember her ever holding one. Maybe if you gave me a little more to go on. Was this serious? Do you want me to talk to her?”

Daphne’s spontaneous laugh warmed him like the spring sun at his back. “I think I can handle apologizing myself. If she’ll answer her phone.”

“You matter to her,” he said. “Once you’re more at ease with each other, you’ll be able to argue and make up like normal sisters.”

“You know this because?”