Читать книгу The Best-Kept Secret - Melinda Curtis - Страница 11

“CASEY MENTIONED you’re having pizza for dinner,” Hud said as they pulled up in front of Rosie’s apartment. “I like pizza.”

“Are you trying to come over for dinner? ’Cause my mom says you need to wait to be asked.” Clutching his movies, Casey’s eyes were uh-oh wide at Hud’s transgression. “Besides, those are work clothes. We don’t eat in work clothes.”

Strike one.

“How about if dinner is my treat? There. I asked you to dinner, not the other way around.” He turned, his face inches from Rosie’s and let his gaze drift to her lips. They were incredible, kissable lips. Surely, she knew that.

Without looking at him, Rosie ran her tongue across her bottom lip and shook her head.

Strike two.

Pointing at his mother with his thumb, Casey explained in a whisper, “That usually means no.”

Strike three.

Hud wasn’t much of a baseball fan, but he needed a second chance at bat. As soon as the car stopped, he leapt out and opened his umbrella, then bent over to help Rosie out, taking her petite hand in his. She lifted her head to look at him as they stood huddled together in the shelter of the umbrella, the rain a curtain around them. And there it was—the spark.

“We can’t leave things like this,” Hud blurted. He meant the endorsement of the party, of course.

There they stood, staring at each other as if they were lovers and this was the last time they’d see each other. Her riotous curls had become even wilder during the day and framed her face in a way that made her dark chocolate eyes seem huge. If he hadn’t been holding her hand between them, he might have reached up and brushed a curl off her cheek. All in the name of keeping her off balance, of course.

With a shriek of excitement, Casey hopped out and ran across the sidewalk into the apartment building foyer. He held the door open by leaning at a forty-five degree angle. “Mommy, come on.”

Rosie blinked and let go of Hud’s hand.

“He’s a great kid,” Hud said. He’d always heard moms were suckers for a compliment about their children.

“Nice try, but the answer is still no.” She started for the door, leaving him no choice but to follow with the umbrella.

Hud took over doorman duties from Casey. Rain bounced off the ground angrily. Barefoot, Rosie stood in the foyer clutching her bag containing his file and those shoes of hers she protected like the crown jewels. Casey bounded up the stairs while their gazes locked once more.

“We’ll meet again,” Hud promised.

“I think not.” Rosie turned and headed toward the stairs.

Turn around. If she looked once more, he had a chance. At what, he wasn’t sure.

Turn around.

Rosie hesitated on the fifth step, but she didn’t look back. And then she continued to climb. Hud let the door swing shut and retreated to the car.

“Where to?” Graham asked.

“Home.” To change. It was pizza night and, according to Hud’s source, nobody ate pizza with work clothes on.

LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER, Rosie pounded across her apartment’s hardwood floor in blue jeans and a T-shirt, mumbling, “That better not be Hudson McCloud.” She yanked open the door.

An umbrella with ducklings on it clattered to the parquet floor. Looking like a gypsy with her dark hair beneath a scarf, Selena held up hands splattered with neon blue paint, dropping a leash as she did so. “We come in peace.”

Something big, furry and four-legged bumped Rosie out of its way.

“Wet dog! Wet dog!” Selena ran inside the apartment after him, clumping across the floor in purple plastic rain-boots adorned with leaping frogs. “I’m sorry. I should have held on to the leash.”

Casey was giggling even though Axel had him pinned against the couch and was trying to eat what was left of his cookie. Rosie ran to get a towel. When she returned, Selena was still trying to control the overly friendly beast.

“Here.” Rosie tossed a towel over the dog’s back just as he started to shake the water out of his fur.

Chaos erupted and Rosie ran to get more towels amidst Selena’s apologies.

“Now that Drew is too old for anything that isn’t played with a ball, I brought over the finger-paint set that used to be his. It’s great for rainy days,” Selena explained. Rosie envied the way Selena handled everything with Drew confidently, as if he were her second, not her first and only, child. Selena coaxed Axel into laying down and began rubbing his belly. “I didn’t mean to unleash Axel on you, but he had to go out and I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

“No harm done.” Holding a towel, Rosie scanned the living room for more water to wipe up.

“Really? You looked like you were going to kill me when you opened the door.”

“She thought you were the mayor,” Casey said, tossing a towel on the floor.

“Oh, wow. Today was the day you met the McClouds. How did that go?” Selena dropped her voice. “Was Hudson as handsome in person as he is on camera?”

Rosie chose to overlook this last question. “I turned them down.”

“Then who were you expecting?” As soon as Selena stopped rubbing Axel’s stomach, the near pony-sized dog rolled to his feet, ready for action.

“The mayor,” Casey repeated as if Selena was missing something obvious.

“Hudson gave us a ride home and told Casey—repeatedly—that I was going to help him get elected mayor.”

“And my mom doesn’t lose.” Casey spoke with pride, making Rosie smile and hug her little champion.

“You know, Rosie,” Selena began, rising to her feet. “A lot of the candidates you take on have a strong sense of ethics and truly want to help people, but just once, for me, could you back someone single and gorgeous, like Hudson McCloud?”

Rosie laughed despite the drama of the day. “How can you expect me to offer you tea after a remark like that?”

“Just because we’re single parents doesn’t mean we don’t date.” Selena paused to smile slyly. “Oh, I forgot. You took an oath of celibacy when you had Casey.”

“What’s sell-basey?” Casey asked with a confused expression.

Selena bent down to Casey’s level. “It’s another word for loneliness—”

“Stop, stop, stop. Don’t you have a dog to walk?” Rosie pointed to the door.

“I’ll go, but remember one thing.” Selena held up a finger. “Because you didn’t back Hunky McCloud, you missed out on the perfect opportunity to date him and for him to introduce your friends to all his single, rich friends.” Selena batted her eyes.

“I don’t want to date him or his friends. He’s not my type or yours, either.” Hudson was off-limits in more ways than one. She hadn’t told her friends who Casey’s father was, so she didn’t expect Selena to understand. “Hudson didn’t pass the criteria for a candidate. What makes you think I’d date a guy like that?”

“The way he looks, I’d let that criteria slide.”

“I’ll see you Thursday at Margo’s.” Thursday night gatherings at Margo’s Bistro had become a ritual for a handful of friends who shared the challenges of single parenthood. Well, at least until recently, when three of the friends—Margo, Nora and Derrick—had found someone special to share love and parenting with. Rosie opened the door for Selena, knowing she hadn’t planned to stop long anyway. “Thank you for the paints.”

“And the advice. Don’t forget to thank me for the advice.” Selena grinned as she dragged Axel out the door and down the back stairs to the alley where she’d parked her car.

“TIME TO PLACE our order, Case.” Rosie dug her wallet out of her purse. Pizza night meant descending the stairs to Chin-Chin’s to place their dinner order.

“All right.” Casey rolled off the couch where they’d been watching a movie together and where he’d contracted a severe case of bed-head.

“Go brush your hair.” Rosie pointed to the bathroom. She’d pulled hers back into a simple ponytail.

“Mrs. Chin doesn’t care how I look,” Casey pouted, dragging his feet down the hallway.

“But I do,” Rosie called after him. When Casey wasn’t presentable, Rosie felt as if every parent judged her and found her lacking.

They placed their order, but not before Mrs. Chin, grandmother of twelve, chastised Rosie for not making Casey eat something more nutritious—“Maybe squid? Or shrimp on his pizza?”—which caused Casey’s stress level to ratchet to Defcon 4, more commonly known as wailing-and-close-to-tears. Drained, they climbed up the creaky wooden stairs with their salads to their apartment with the promise of a phone call when their pizza was ready.

As they began eating their ordinary lettuce with ranch dressing, Rosie started to regret missing her meal at Plouf, which made her think of Hudson once more. The man had hardly left her thoughts all afternoon. Why couldn’t Hudson see he had no future in politics if he didn’t open up and explain his past? And why had Hudson awakened her hibernating libido?

“Mommy, why can’t I have a little brother? Everyone else has one.” Casey blinked in faux innocence as if it was the first time he’d asked.

The question was loaded with pitfalls, so Rosie set aside thoughts of Hudson and considered her words carefully. “First off, not everyone has a little brother. I don’t.”

“You don’t count.” Casey was quite good at pouting. If she wasn’t his mother, she might have fallen for that look and felt sorry for him.

“Secondly, you need a daddy around to get a little brother. I’m afraid it’s just you and me.” She’d told Casey his daddy had gone to heaven. Thankfully, he hadn’t ask many questions about Samuel. Rosie dreaded the day when she had to explain she hadn’t known Casey’s father well enough to find out if she loved him or not. Marriage had certainly never been discussed. She wasn’t going to be Casey’s best role model for abstinence.

“Why do you have to be so old?” Casey slumped and fingered a chess piece he’d brought to the table.

Considering Rosie was only twenty-nine, she gave her son the look of disapproval she’d learned upon seeing it so often from her own mom. It was the same look she’d given Hudson earlier.

“You’re not a kid, Mommy.” Casey squirmed, not willing to give up just yet. “I don’t have anyone to play with at home, not even a dog.”

“Oh, so it’s a choice between a dog or a little brother?”

“I’m bored all the time.” Casey caught her gaze as it drifted over to the window sill where the paintings they’d made this afternoon dried, and added petulantly, “And you’re always working.”

That was so unfair. Rosie pushed the lettuce around with her fork, refusing to let Casey see he’d upset her. She’d turned down numerous assignments because she couldn’t accompany candidates on most evening or out-of-state appearances. She tried not to work until after Casey went to bed. Rosie put her son first as much as possible and despite that he was still able to make her feel guilty.

Casey wasn’t about to let up. “Mo-mmy—”

Someone knocked on the door. If they weren’t busy downstairs, Mrs. Chin sometimes delivered.

“That’s our pizza. Why don’t you get out the plates, Case?”

“I hate setting the table.” Casey crossed his thin arms over his chest.

“It’s only two plates. You’d hate it more if you had another place to set…say for a little brother.”

“PIZZA’S HERE.” Hud held up the take-out boxes when Rosie’s face didn’t register a warm smile of welcome. She wore relaxed blue jeans and a short T-shirt that hugged her curves, but Rosie seemed wound up tighter than the curls she’d caught in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. “I ordered breadsticks and noodles, too.”

“Is that the mayor?” Casey peeked from behind the door.

Rosie scowled at Casey’s reference, while Hud’s smile widened.

“Hey, you don’t have work clothes on.” The boy wiggled past Rosie’s leg and took in Hud’s jeans and sweater with an approving nod. “We already watched the videos, so you missed out.”

Given Rosie’s closed expression, the boy was going to be his best bet to get inside. Hud bent his knees to bring him closer to the kid’s level. “I offered to buy you dinner. But when I stopped in downstairs they said you’d already ordered, so I did the next best thing—I delivered it.”

“You shanghaied our dinner?” Rosie crossed her arms over her chest.

Kneeling at her feet, Hud gave Rosie his most charming grin. “I told you we had to talk. I’ll let you have your food if you let me in.”

“Are you someone’s daddy?” Imitating his mom, Casey crossed his twiglike arms over his chest. Hudson recognized the calculating expression on the little guy’s face. “I don’t think you are ’cause daddies don’t steal people’s pizza.”

“I’m not a daddy,” Hud confirmed with a wink. “And it would only be stealing if I ate it all myself.”

“Good, ’cause my mommy’s sell-batey and I don’t have a little brother.” Casey’s long face split into a grin as he gazed up at Rosie. “I like the mayor.”

Hud straightened and tried to look innocent, wondering what “sell-batey” meant in adult speak.

“Casey,” Rosie warned. She seemed more tense than when she’d first opened the door.

The kid stood at attention and tried to tow his mother’s line. “Leave him outside, Mommy. We can call the cops. Stealing isn’t nice.”

“I agree,” Rosie said, reaching for her pizza with a dangerous gleam in her eye. “Hand over the food slowly and no one gets hurt.”

Hud took a step back, his mind racing. He could see the small table behind them with two take-out containers with salad, glasses of milk and a chess piece. Gambling, Hud appealed to Casey again. “Tell you what. If you let me in, I’ll play a game of chess with you.”

“You play chess?” the little guardian asked with interest.

“I haven’t played in a long time, but I still remember how.” Things were looking up. “It was one of my favorite games as a kid.”

Casey tried pushing the door open wider but Rosie held firm. “You can’t con your way in by sweet-talking my five-year-old.”

In spite of the stakes, Hud was enjoying their wrangling.

“What does con mean?” Casey asked before Hud could regroup.

“He’s trying to trick you. I doubt he knows how to play chess.”

With a gasp, Casey shook his finger at Hud. “Lying and stealing aren’t nice. Mr. Stephanopolis at the park is good at chess. He doesn’t lie and he’s better at chess than you.”

“Probably.” Hud looked at Rosie. “I bet Mr. Stephanopolis never stole someone’s pizza.”

Rosie shook her head, but her expression wasn’t as foreboding as before.

“Mr. Quan at the senior center is better than you,” Casey continued.

“Most likely.” This had not been the best of days for Hud’s ego.

“I could beat you in less than ten moves.”

Hud didn’t skip a beat. “You could probably beat me in five.”

Rosie’s little doorman grinned. “That would be so cool.” Taking Rosie by surprise, Casey stepped back and opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

“I’LL GET THE CHESS SET.” Casey scampered down the hall to his room as Hudson elbowed his way into her home and shut the door.

Rosie blocked Hudson’s path to the table. He loomed above her wearing the victorious grin of the devil wrapped in a rain-splattered jacket and blue jeans. “Of all the low creatures on the planet, you have got to be the lowest. Manipulating a little boy like that—”

“Any manipulating was purely on Casey’s part. That boy definitely inherited your political savvy. You didn’t see that coming, did you?” Hudson moved to the left, but she sidestepped.

Rosie didn’t want to think where Casey’s skills came from or fall prey to the impulse to laugh with Hudson at Casey’s cleverness. “Why don’t you just hand over the pizza and make your apologies?” She reached for the box again, but Hudson lifted it out of her grasp. With a glance behind her, Rosie lowered her voice. “He’s sharp, but I’ll look like the bad guy if I ask you to go. A gentleman would leave.”

“I think we’ve already established that you don’t believe I’m a gentleman.” Hudson moved to the right, but so did she. “I didn’t have lunch and I’ve been holding this very tasty-smelling pizza so long, I could eat the box. So if you could save your remarks until I’ve had a couple bites, I’ll be more able to defend myself.”

“I don’t want you to be able to defend yourself.” It was bad enough she was constantly on guard around him.

“Afraid you won’t be able to argue your way out of this? All you’ve done today is run away.”

Rosie was so flabbergasted that Hudson managed to get past her. She followed him to the kitchen. “I had to leave our meeting because I had a lunch appointment. I had to leave my lunch meeting to pick up Casey.”

“You forgot to mention how you fled upstairs instead of standing your ground with me after the video store. See? Running.” Hudson put the food on the counter and began opening her cupboards. “Where are the plates?”

“I’m not getting rid of you until I hear you out, am I?”

“No.”

With a sigh, Rosie admitted defeat and gave Hudson a plate. “We drink milk with dinner. You aren’t allergic by any chance…?”

“No.” His triumphant smile transformed his otherwise stern face. “We’ll talk after I play chess, right?”

“What choice do I have?”

“YOU’RE NOT GOING TO let me win, are you?” Casey scratched his head, sending a lock of hair sticking out as he leaned over the chess board.

They sat at the small oak kitchen table with the undersized living room to one side and the miniscule kitchen to the other. As big as Hud was, he should have felt cramped. Instead, it felt welcoming. Rosie’s home was an eclectic mix of San Francisco’s cultures—from a tie-dyed tea towel in the kitchen to a Chinese calendar on the wall to a large abalone shell on the mantel—set against more traditional furnishings.

“Do you want me to let you win?” They’d only just started the game and Hud wanted to know the rules early. Although Rosie was in the living room reading the paper, Hud could tell she was listening.

Casey looked up from studying the board. He’d inherited his serious brown eyes from his mother. “No. I can’t get better if you let me win.”

“You need to earn it,” Hud agreed. Still, he hoped the kid was sharp enough to beat him if he played sloppy.

Casey nodded and returned his attention to the board.

After some consideration, Hud moved his queen—in this case the salt shaker since Casey couldn’t find the white queen—out onto the board. He’d already advanced a couple of pawns and a knight. Five moves in and Hud hadn’t lost yet.

“You don’t think ahead,” Casey noted, inching a pawn forward.

“I’m not afraid to put my power pieces into play.” Hud sent his bishop out to take Casey’s pawn.

“That won’t win games.” Casey took Hud’s bishop with his knight. “Check.”

Hud hadn’t seen that coming. Was he going to be defeated in ten moves?

Later, after Casey had beaten Hud twice in less than twenty moves, Hud was that much closer to a straight conversation with Rosie. She poured coffee into mugs and tried to send Casey to the bathtub.

“Just one more game, Mommy.” Casey sat in a chair at the table with his head on his arms, looking up at Hud as if he was Casey’s hero. It felt nice.

“Bath tub.” Rosie put an edge on the command. “This is the second time I’ve asked.”

Casey slid out of his chair and ambled toward the hall, touching the couch, the curio cabinet and the television as if searching for a reason to pause.

“Go,” Rosie ordered. When he was gone, she admitted, “Sometimes I feel like such a bad mom. I’m constantly nagging and worrying and late…” She trailed off.

“He seems like a good kid to me. I haven’t seen him throw himself on the ground in a screaming fit or pick his nose.”

The sound of water thundering into a bathtub was muffled by a door closing.

“Let’s hope you don’t see that.” Her smile included Hud, which was a refreshing change from the dagger-filled expressions she’d given him earlier today. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Black.” She looked worn out, more in need of a glass of wine than coffee. “Should you be drinking that stuff this late at night?”

“Are you kidding? After Casey goes to bed my second shift starts. I work every night until about midnight.” Rosie’s admission came as no surprise. She’d gotten far for one so young. She brought him a mug with a Chinese proverb on it—A fall into a ditch makes you wiser.

Well, he’d already fallen and considered himself bruised, but less gullible.

“You can’t get ahead without putting in the extra time.” Rosie sat across from him.

“I know that.” Here was the opening he’d been looking for. “I’ve spent all week looking critically at the situation in the city. I have several ideas—”

“Before you go any further, let’s go back to the two obstacles you’ll need to overcome—the allegations behind your resignation from the Senate and—”

“If you insist on telling me that I have no personality after the day we’ve had, I may have to call in character witnesses.” Hud couldn’t believe how closed-minded Rosie was being about this.

“You’re missing the point completely.” Rosie covered his hand with hers ever so briefly, but long enough to stir his pulse. “In the public’s mind you’ve become this icon of wealth and power. You’re a myth, a fairy tale.” Avoiding his gaze, she added cream to her coffee. “You lock yourself away in a tower, don’t grant interviews, don’t admit to missteps or misfortunes. Of course, the voters can’t identify with you.”

Hud’s face felt wooden. “So you think Roger Bartholomew is a better choice?”

“It would be more to my liking if Roger switched parties and ran for the Republicans.” Rosie still wouldn’t look at him, paying careful attention to the sugar she was adding to her mug.

Relief deflated some of the fight out of him. Hud sat back in his chair and reached for his coffee.

“What is wrong with getting up close and personal with the public? You’ve been in my face all day, and let me tell you, that was quite a surprise.” Rosie laughed softly, almost to herself. “I had no idea that you were so…”

“Determined? Driven?”

Rosie looked at him levelly then said, “I was going to say creative and ballsy. I wouldn’t have approached a rejection quite the way you did.”

“But it worked.” At least, so far. Promising things were lurking just beneath the surface between them.

She shook her head. “I didn’t think you were like your brother in any way, but you are.”

“You knew Samuel?”

“Mommy, come shampoo my hair.”

Rosie held her coffee mug midway to her lips, as if she realized she’d said more than she should have.