Читать книгу Baby By Chance - M.J. Rodgers - Страница 10

DAVID LAY IN BED that night thinking over what Susan had told him. When he’d checked into her background and discovered her husband had died, he’d visited the fire station where Paul Carter had worked. A memorial picture of him hung on the wall. Paul was blond, five-ten, slender, with light eyes. That was exactly how Susan had described Todd.

She’d gone to the seminar seeking closure to some unresolved issue that had her dreaming of her dead husband. Instead of a resolution, she had found herself under the lethal influences of a terrible sense of failure and a potent dose of alcohol. And there was Todd, a sympathetic, fellow sufferer, looking enough like Paul to pull all the right heartstrings.

David could understand why Susan had let him make love to her. But what he still wasn’t clear about was Todd’s motives. Was he really grieving? Or was he an opportunist who had seen her pain, plied her with alcohol, and, then, when she was most vulnerable, taken advantage of her?

A man who took advantage of a vulnerable woman was scum. If he found out that Todd had done that to Susan—

David punched his pillow and turned onto his other side. No. No matter what he found out, he wasn’t going to get physical with the guy. This was just a case like any other. She was just a client. And David was a civilized, educated man in full control of his impulses. All his impulses.

When she had asked him what he didn’t like about her, he’d been very tempted to show her how much he liked everything about her. But he’d held back and left without laying so much as a finger on her.

Even if he had stood too close to her and gazed into her eyes a little too long.

David punched his pillow again and turned to his other side. That had been a mistake. He wished he just liked the way she looked. The way she sounded. The way she moved. The way she smelled.

But he also liked the way she spoke her mind and refused to back down when she believed she was right. The way she took such pride in her work. The way she took such loving care of her pet and her home.

David threw the pillow to the bottom of the bed, let out a frustrated breath, rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. No matter what he liked about her, pursuing Susan was simply not an option.

Time to take his brother, Jack, up on one of his double-date offers. Jack’s sojourn into show biz had left him rubbing shoulders, as well as more interesting body parts, with some of the most beautiful women on the TV screen. As David’s dad had so accurately pointed out to him a couple of days before, his body was telling him to get back in the game. With one of Jack’s women, a man didn’t have to worry about holding back.

Tomorrow morning David would concentrate on getting a lead on Todd. Thanks to Susan’s openness and honesty, he had some clues to follow.

Tomorrow night he’d let Jack introduce him to someone who wasn’t a client, who wasn’t still mourning her dead husband, and who wasn’t going to want to see his face over the breakfast table the next morning.

He might be ready to get back in the dating game, but the rules were definitely going to be different. This time around, he wasn’t going to look for emotional entanglements of any kind.

“COME ON, SUSAN,” Paul said, dragging her toward the roller coaster. “It’ll be fun!”

Susan looked up at the big, bright neon sign in front of them that said Death Ride. Nope, this didn’t sound like a whole lot of fun.

“Paul, a roller-coaster ride isn’t my idea of a good time. I have this inner-ear problem. I get car sick on a bumpy road.”

“Suz, you’ve got to come with me,” he coaxed. “This ride is the absolute best. A real adrenaline rush.”

She planted her feet. “My adrenaline is rushing at the right speed, thank you.”

“Is it?” he said as he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her to him. “Maybe I’d better do a quick check.” He bent down to nuzzle her neck. She closed her eyes and leaned into him.

The next thing she knew, he had scooped her into his arms, planted her on the seat and hopped in beside her. The safety harness swooped down to lock them in place.

“That was pretty damn sneaky, Paul Carter,” she complained as she looked over at the satisfied grin on his face.

He laughed. “You’re a sucker for that neck-nuzzling trick.”

The loaded cars had begun to creep up the track toward the top. Susan’s stomach gave a nervous twitch. There was no getting out now. Not that she had a particular problem with this part. But she had seen roller coasters operate. She knew there was a downside.

A real downside. Their car reached the top. Within seconds they were barreling toward the earth at sixty miles per hour, taking hairpin turns that rattled her eye sockets and careening around neck-yanking loops that had Susan clutching the safety harness in pure terror. Her head was pounding, and her stomach was churning, ready to erupt.

But when she looked over at Paul, he was grinning, his face flushed, so happy and so full of life.

Susan awoke and instinctively reached for Paul. But her hand rested on a ball of fur. Then she remembered.

Paul was gone.

Why was this happening to her? She had faced the loss of the wonderful man she had married. She had allowed herself to feel the pain of his passing. She had accepted the need to get on with her life. She had gotten on with her life. Why was she having these vivid dreams of Paul?

SUSAN WAS AT HER light table carefully looking through the negatives of her morning shoot, when Barry Eckhouse interrupted her concentration.

“I picked up your prints from the darkroom while I was getting mine,” he said.

She sent him a look of gratitude as she took the prints from his outstretched hand. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for these. Thanks, Barry. I’ll hug you later.”

“That makes three hundred and seventy-two hugs you owe me.”

She knew Barry wasn’t really keeping score, nor did he expect to collect. They had been promising each other hugs for years.

He was a good-looking guy who wore the “I’m so bored I’m cool” expression that only he and the guys on the cover of GQ seemed able to pull off.

He was also one of her favorite people. Because of his strong urging and recommendation three months before, Greg had promoted Susan to one of the three coveted senior photographer slots. Barry had never said a word about having stood up for her, which was one of the things she liked most about him.

She took a moment to glance at the prints he’d handed to her. “I requested these two days ago. Why is the darkroom always so backed up?”

“Their turnover is worse than a Burger King,” he said. “They got another new trainee today. Can’t wait to see how long before this one disappears. Speaking of disappearing, have you seen Ellie? I stopped by her cubicle to deliver her prints, but she wasn’t there. Matter of fact, I haven’t seen her all day.”

“She’s probably in the coffee room making an espresso.”

“Which can only mean she’s broken up with her latest loser,” Barry said, shaking his head.

Susan concentrated on shifting through the prints, saying nothing.

“Relax, you didn’t give anything away. I know that Ellie always hogs the espresso machine for days after one of her lovers screws her over.”

She should have known Barry would figure that out. He was smart and observant. When she had first seen Barry looking at Ellie, she’d thought he had a thing for her friend. But however attractive Barry thought Ellie, he was always so negative when he spoke about her that Susan had given up hoping for a romance between them.

“Be nice to Ellie,” she told him. “She’s going through a rough time.”

“She’s always going through a rough time,” he said, the disgust thick in his voice, “because she always asks for it.”

“Of course, you’ve never made a mistake in the romance department,” she said with light sarcasm, knowing perfectly well just how bad a mistake he’d made in the selection of his ex-wife, who everyone at the office called “the psycho.”

Not that he wasn’t absolutely right about Ellie, of course. But Susan was loyal to a lovelorn friend.

“Not fair,” Barry protested. “I was barely twenty-five when the psycho did her number on me. Did I tell you she violated the restraining order her third ex-husband got on her?”

“That the one in Texas?”

“No, Florida. Her second husband filed the restraining order on her in Texas. Anyway, she picked the lock on her third husband’s house after he’d gone to work and spray painted everything black. She’s a genius at lock-picking. Her old man is still doing time for a decade of breaking-and-entering raps.”

“Now, remind me again what awful thing her third ex-husband did to deserve this?” Susan asked.

“He married her, against all my warnings, I might add, just like husband number two. Not that I totally blame them. The psycho’s got legs that go on forever and these big blue eyes and full lips—”

“So what you’re telling me,” she interrupted, not caring to hear any more about his ex-wife’s physical attributes, “is that a man doesn’t really care if a woman is psychotic as long as she’s sexy.”

He shrugged. “No one said we were the smarter sex. But I have learned from my mistake, unlike Ellie.”

Barry quickly looked around, then leaned closer. “You’re her best friend, Susan,” he whispered. “I know you can spot these losers she keeps getting involved with. Why aren’t you setting her straight?”

“Only time I ever tried to set Ellie straight, as you call it,” she whispered back, “I ended up hurting her feelings, and she didn’t talk to me for two months.”

“You tried to warn her about that married guy she was mixed up with a few years back, didn’t you?” he asked, his face alight with the revelation.

Susan didn’t answer. She’d already said more than she should have.

He straightened and resumed his normal tone. “So that’s why things were so strained between you two then. And all the time I thought you were fighting over me.”

“Don’t you wish,” she said, smiling. “I’m glad you’re concerned about Ellie. Why don’t you ask her out?”

“Hell, no,” he said with feeling. “I told you. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Ellie’s no psycho.”

“Yeah, but she’s got another serious problem. Incredibly bad taste in men.” With that Barry waved and left.

She knew he was right. Put Ellie in a pitching boat in heavy seas and she could not only instantly determine the precise knots that two dolphins were swimming and how many feet away they were, but also the exact F-stop, shutter speed and fill-in flash required to perfectly capture them on film.

But put Ellie in a room full of eligible men, and her brain would inevitably malfunction and she’d pair up with the worst possible choice.

Susan’s thoughts were interrupted when her telephone rang. She picked it up and answered distractedly. “Susan Carter.”

“David Knight.”

She sat straight up in her chair, every cell in her body vibrating to attention.

“I…uh…” Oh, that was erudite, Susan. Could you sound any more brain dead?

“Can you talk?” David asked.

“Apparently not,” she said with a small chuckle.

“That wasn’t a jab at your verbal skills, Ms. Carter. I was attempting to ascertain if you were in a private place that would enable you to discuss personal matters freely.”

He was cordial, but clearly all business. The gentle warmth that had imbued his voice the night before was nowhere in evidence.

She had thought a lot about David after he left her home, and those thoughts had been disturbing. Her preoccupation with them seemed kind of foolish now, in light of his formal manner. Maybe she’d been so tired after her long day that she’d imagined what she’d seen in his eyes. Maybe she had imagined her response, as well.

“Ms. Carter, did you hear my question?”

“Sorry. My mind was on something else. Just a minute.”

The four-foot partitions around her cubicle did nothing to mask conversations. She rose from her chair and stretched so as to camouflage her real reason for getting up, which was to see who was sitting on the other sides. As she had suspected, all around her cubicle were fellow employees frantically clicking their computer keys, getting articles and captions ready for the next issue.

“The answer to your question is, not really,” she said into the phone as she sat back down and scooted her chair closer to her desk.

“Probably just as well we meet. I’d like to show you something. Can you be outside the front of your building in five minutes?”

She checked her watch. Four-thirty already? She needed the rest of her contact sheets from the guys in the darkroom. She also needed to select and crop the photos that would have to be printed. “Will this be a quick meeting?”

“Should be. I’ll drive by and pick you up. Bring your coat and umbrella. The rain is coming down cold and hard.”

Before she could respond, the dial tone blared in her ear. She shook her head as she hung up the phone. David was back to his all-business self, all right.

She was relieved. This was not the time to be getting sidetracked by a man.

Grabbing her shoulder bag, coat and umbrella, she made a dash for the rest room before heading down to the lobby. Exactly five minutes later, his silver truck slid alongside the curb in the front of the building. She used her umbrella as a shield as she dashed for the truck.

He had the passenger door open by the time she got there. She hopped in sideways and pulled the umbrella closed, dropping it to the floor once she was settled on the seat. The moment she’d closed the passenger door and buckled up, the truck was rolling.

“Are you always so punctual?” she asked as she looked over at him.

He wore a brown leather jacket over a silver-blue dress shirt, brown dress slacks, and leather boots polished so brightly she could see the chrome beneath the brake pedal reflected in them.

His eyes remained on the road when he answered. “Promptness is simply a part of keeping one’s word.”

“What do you say to all the people who accuse you of being too rigid because you live your life by the clock?”

“Probably the same thing you say to such people.”

She wasn’t surprised that David had surmised she also was a “promptness freak,” as so many of her friends liked to call her. Not after all the other things he’d been able to deduce about her.

“Okay, Mr. Detective, tell me what I say to those people.”

“You say you’ll be somewhere at a particular time, and you are there at that time, because you care about them and wouldn’t think of wasting their valuable time by making them wait for you.”

She chuckled. “Well, I may not have said that before, but I’m certainly going to say it from now on. Where are we going?”

“Someplace private where you can look at a picture and answer a few questions.”

The private place proved to be a parking facility located next to a nearby park. The heavy rain had driven away the park’s occupants, leaving the garage empty. David selected a space on the upper level with a view of the gray landscape but far enough within the structure’s overlapping roof that the rain wouldn’t pound on the truck.