Читать книгу Hers for the Weekend - Tanya Michaels - Страница 8

PIPER JAMIESON SAGGED against the sofa cushions and rolled her eyes at the phone receiver. It could have been a wrong number, a pushy telephone solicitor, an obscene caller even, but nooo, it was her mother. Piper loved her mom, but all their conversations boiled down to the same argument—Piper’s love life.

She started to put her feet up on the oval coffee table, but stopped suddenly, as though her mother could see through the phone line and into her apartment. “So, how’ve you been doing, Mom?”

“Never mind that. I’m more concerned with how you are,” her mother said. “You don’t feel acute appendicitis coming on, right? You aren’t going to call us tomorrow with a severe case of forty-eight-hour east Brazilian mumps or something?”

Piper groaned. Although she’d bailed out on all of the family reunions in recent years, she’d used legitimate work-related excuses, never fictional medical ones. But this year she’d made a promise to her grandmother.

This year, there would be no reprieve.

“I’ll be there,” she assured her mother. “And I’m looking forward to seeing you all.” Mostly.

“We’re looking forward to seeing you, too, honey. Especially Nana. When I went to visit her at the hospital last week—”

“Hospital?” Piper’s chest tightened. She adored her grandmother, even if Nana did stubbornly insist women needed husbands. “Daphne told me she was under the weather, but no one said anything about the hospital.” As Nana advanced in years, Piper couldn’t help worrying over her grandmother’s health.

A worry her mother was not above exploiting. “You know what would help your Nana? If she knew you had a good man to take care of you.”

Ah, yes—here came the Good Man Speech. Piper knew it well.

“You’ve always been independent,” her mother was saying, “but there’s such a thing as being too stubborn. Before you know it, you’ll wake up fifty, without anyone to share your life….”

Knowing from experience that it did no good to point out she was decades away from turning fifty, Piper stretched across the maroon-and-black-plaid couch. Might as well be comfy while she waited for her mother to wind down.

Though she’d escaped her small hometown of Rebecca, Texas, and now lived in Houston, Piper couldn’t escape her family’s shared belief that a woman’s purpose in life was to get married. Piper’s sole brush with matrimony had been a broken engagement that still left her with a sense of dazed relief—how had she come so close to spending her life with a man who’d wanted her to be someone different? When her sister, Daphne, had married, Piper thought the pressure would ease, that their mother would be happy to finally have a married daughter. Instead, Mrs. Jamieson was scandalized that her youngest was married, now pregnant, while her oldest didn’t even date.

As her mom continued to wax ominous about the downfalls of growing old alone, Piper stared vacantly at the dead ficus tree in the corner of her living room. I should water that poor thing. Although, at this point, it was probably more in need of a dirge than H2O.

“Piper! Are you even listening to me?”

“Y—mostly.”

“I asked if that bagel man was still giving you trouble.”

Mercifully, her mother had moved on to the next topic. Too bad Piper had no idea what that topic was. “Bagel?”

Then realization dawned. Her mother must mean Stanley Kagle, vice president of Callahan, Kagle and Munroe, the architectural firm where Piper worked as the only female draftsman. Make that draftswoman. In Kagle’s unvoiced opinion, Piper’s job description should be brewing coffee and answering phones with Ginger and Maria, the two secretaries who had been with the firm since it opened. Luckily, Callahan and Munroe held more liberated views.

“You mean Mr. Kagle, Mom?”

“Whichever one is always hassling you at work.” She paused. “You know, you wouldn’t have to work at all if you’d find a nice man and raise some babies.”

Piper could actually hear her blood pressure rising. One of only a handful of female students in her degree program at Texas A&M, she’d busted her butt to excel in her drafting and detailing courses, and was now working even harder to prove herself amid her male colleagues. Why couldn’t her family be proud of that? Proud of her?

“Mom, I like my job. I like my life. I wish you’d just accept that I’m happy.”

“How happy could you be? Daphne says you’re underappreciated and that one of your bosses has it in for you.”

And thank you so much, Daphne, for passing on that information.

“Daph caught me after a rough week, and I was just venting,” Piper said. “I love the actual drafting part.” And loved the feeling she got when she was in the middle of a drawing and knew it was damn good, the pride of passing a building downtown and seeing one of her suspended walkways. If things continued to go well, Piper was hoping her next review with Callahan would lead to her first project as a team leader.

But better to argue her point in a language her mom could understand. “I’ll admit to occasional work-related stress, but are you trying to tell me that marriage and motherhood are stress-free?”

Silence stretched across the phone line.

Aha! I have you there.

Then Mrs. Jamieson sighed as though this conversation epitomized her motherhood stress. “Honey, you aren’t getting any younger, and women can’t—”

Recognizing the introductory phrase of her Don’t You Hear Your Biological Clock Ticking Speech, Piper interrupted. “I’d love to chat more Mom, but…” She thought fast, determined to rescue herself from this black hole of a conversation. “I have to run because I have dinner plans.”

“You have a dinner date! With a man?”

Did she really want to lie to her mother? Piper gnawed at her lower lip. She’d already told one white lie. Besides, if it would save her from another round of “you’d be such a pretty girl if you just fixed yourself up,” why not? Her imaginary person might as well be an imaginary man.

“Yes.” Guilt over the uncharacteristic fib immediately niggled at her, but she pressed forward. “It’s a man.”

“Good heavens. I can’t believe you let me go on all this time and didn’t say anything about having a boyfriend!”

Boyfriend? She’d only meant to allude to a dinner date to buy herself some peace and quiet, not invent a full-blown relationship. “Wait, I—”

“What does your young man look like, dear?”

Piper blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Tall, dark and handsome.” Oh, very original! “Dark-haired with green eyes,” she elaborated.

“And you’ll bring him home with you for the reunion, right?”

“Well, no, I—”

“We can’t wait to meet him. I was hoping this weekend would give you the chance to get reacquainted with Charlie, but I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“Charlie?” Piper would invent a dozen fake boyfriends before she let herself go down that road again. “Mom, I don’t want to see Charlie.”

Her mother’s uneasy silence made it clear that it was too late for Piper to avoid her ex-fiancé.

“You’ve invited him for dinner or something, haven’t you?” What did it take to convince people that she and Charlie were over? Not over in the-timing-just-wasn’t-right, maybe-later kind of way. Over in the stone-cold, do-not-resuscitate, rest-in-peace kind of way.

“Piper, he’s like one of the family.”

More so than she was, it would seem.

“And I don’t know why you sound so appalled whenever you mention him,” her mother continued. “Charlie Conway is a good man, and he’s the most eligible bachelor in the entire county.”

That was probably true. Handsome, funny and smart, Charlie Conway had been a fellow Rebecca native and A&M student. He’d been so sought after in high school that Piper had been surprised when he pursued her in college. He’d claimed to love her because she was so refreshingly different from the girls they’d grown up with, and he’d eventually proposed. Their engagement had been strained, however, by his decision to return to Rebecca and carry on the Conway mayoral tradition, and Piper had returned the heirloom diamond ring when she realized that the allure of “refreshingly different” had faded. The longer she’d been with Charlie, the more he’d tried to change her.

“Mom, I don’t care how eligible he is. He’s not right for me.” She’d tried to explain this before, but since she was rejecting the very lifestyle most of her family and childhood friends had chosen, they didn’t quite understand. Piper knew they were fond of Charlie—she had been, too, at one point—but she hadn’t liked the person she’d become when she was with him. “Promise me you’re not going to spend the weekend trying to throw us together.”

“Well, of course not, dear—not with this new young man in your life. We can’t wait to meet him!” her mother repeated.

“I’ll, um, see if he’s available.” Piper hated the blatant dishonesty, but not as much as she hated the thought of an entire weekend explaining why the county’s most eligible bachelor wasn’t good enough for her.

“This is so exciting,” her mom said. “I can’t wait to call everyone and let them know. Oh, and honey, if you’re going out tonight, I hope you’ll think about wearing a dress for a ch—”

Ding dong!

Piper jumped at the unexpected pealing of her doorbell. “Who—” Remembering that she was supposedly expecting a date, she swallowed the last of her question. “Gotta go now, see you this weekend. Love to Dad.”

The doorbell shrilled again as she hung up, and a familiar male voice called through the door, “Piper? You home?”

Josh. Thank goodness, because a day like she’d had called for one of two things: venting to her best friend or a Chocomel, a chocolate-covered bar of caramel-and-nougat-filled nirvana. Talking to Josh was calorie-free.

“Hey,” she greeted him as she opened the door. Joshua Weber was a co-worker who’d become her best friend after moving into her downtown Houston apartment building two years ago. “Did we have plans tonight and I forgot? I’m sorry, it’s been a horrible day, and—”

“Relax, darlin’.” His lips curved into the sexy smile that had no doubt been instrumental in seducing many women. Luckily for Piper, seduction wasn’t high on her priority list. “We didn’t have plans. I just wanted to see if you were interested in going with me for a bite to eat.”

“What, no date tonight?”

Women flocked to Josh in droves. With his long lean build, square jaw, lionlike green-gold eyes and thick hair the color of rich chocolate, he was easily the best-looking man in the apartment complex. Maybe the zip code. Or the state.

“Dating can be exhausting.” He leaned casually against the doorjamb, his posture matching his informal attire of a faded Astros shirt and jeans going threadbare at the knees. “Sometimes a guy just needs a little peace and quiet.”

“So why not enjoy dinner alone in your apartment?” Piper asked.

It was what she’d planned to do. If she had any groceries. She’d been working so many late nights that she’d once again neglected shopping. Other women in her family were prizewinning cooks; Piper barely remembered to keep her fridge stocked.

“Being with you is even better,” Josh said. “I don’t have to be by myself, but I don’t have to be ‘on,’ either. Besides,” he added sheepishly, “I burned the nice dinner I was supposed to be having alone in my apartment right now.”

She laughed. “Let me grab my purse and put my shoes back on.” As she turned, she patted her French braid to make sure it was still presentable. A few strands fell around her face, but all in all, the braid had survived the day intact.

Good thing she hadn’t yet changed from her tailored blue pantsuit into her comfy sweats. Josh probably wouldn’t think anything of going out in public wearing a sweatsuit, but the casual look worked for him. For instance, Josh’s hair always looked as though it had just outgrown that popular short and gelled style that was slightly spiky on top. Though it was still short, his hair was pleasantly rumpled with no trace of gel. Undeniably handsome when he dressed up for work or an occasionally formal date, he was somehow even more appealing in the rugged laid-back uniform of worn jeans and T-shirts.

The injustice of life. Piper in her oldest jeans was grunge personified, whereas Josh effortlessly resembled a female’s fantasy come to life in any clothes. Probably looks even more like a walking fantasy in no clothes at all.

She blinked. Thoughts like that were trouble she didn’t need, she reminded herself, sliding her feet into a pair of high-heeled navy slingbacks. The shoes were arguably the most feminine part of her wardrobe, but at barely five foot three, she’d take all the help she could get. Especially next to Josh’s six foot one.

Grabbing her apartment keys off the coffee table, she stole a look at her tall, platonic friend. Emphasis on the platonic. She was perfectly happy without a guy in her life, and she’d watched Josh back away from enough relationships to know he didn’t want a woman in his life. Not long-term, anyway.

And short-term’s out of the question. Maybe hot flings with no future worked for some people, but the one impulsive time Piper had flung, she’d found the experience to be more embarrassing than pleasurable. She couldn’t begin to fathom how awkward it would be if she constantly saw the flingee at the office.

Shoes on her feet, purse in her hand and lustful thoughts relegated to the dark mental cellar where they belonged, she strolled back to where Josh was waiting. “All set.”

Once they’d reached the apartment’s parking garage, she turned to ask, “Who’s driving?” But she didn’t know why she bothered.

He’d already pulled out his keys and was striding toward his two-door sports car.

“It’s just as well,” she admitted. “I got another ticket today.”

“Speeding again?” He shook his head. “I don’t know how you manage to even get up to the speed limit with traffic as bad as it is, much less exceed it. Do the other cars just magically part for you?”

She climbed into the passenger side. “Hey, you’re supposed to be sympathetic about my bad day.”

“That’s right. You said it was horrible.” His low voice was full of teasing mischief as he turned the key in the ignition. “There are ways I could help take your mind off your troubles, sweetheart. You just say the word.”

Piper’s breath caught, a quiver of expectation in her abdomen. Josh’s flirting was nothing new—it was his default mode—but tonight, after her earlier wayward thoughts, there was a split second where she forgot that he meant nothing by it.

Then he spoke again, his tone genuinely sympathetic. “Kagle being a chauvinistic creep?”

Although Stanley Kagle was too business-savvy to do or say anything overt she could formally complain about, his attitude was a constant reminder that she was the youngest and shortest on the drafting team. And the only one with ovaries, which he apparently viewed as some sort of handicap. Thank God for Callahan and Munroe to counter his presence, or she might actually have to brave the job market.

Piper sighed. “No, it’s not one of our bosses making me crazy, it’s one of our colleagues. If Smith doesn’t get me those dimensions for the Fuqua building, my blueprints will be late, and you know who Kagle will blame. Then, of course, the traffic ticket on my way home today. And on top of everything, my mother called and…”

She’d been about to say that her mother was driving her nuts, but it seemed insensitive to complain. At least she had a mom. Josh’s mother and father had both been killed in a car accident when he was very young. He didn’t discuss his past much, but Piper knew it involved a lot of foster homes and very little stability.

“Grazzio’s okay with you?” Josh’s rhetorical question was an unnecessary formality. Even as he asked, he was steering his car into the parking lot of their favorite pizzeria.

They ate here an average of five times a month. On nice days, it was close enough to walk the few blocks between Grazzio’s and their apartment complex, but on this rainy October night, she was glad for the warm shelter of the car. They hurried through the falling rain to the restaurant, where Josh held the door open for her.

Inside, the leggy brunette hostess greeted them by name, with a special smile for Josh. “Hey, handsome, when are we going out again?”

Josh winked at the woman he’d taken on a couple of dates back in August. “Ah, Nancy, I’d like nothing more than to sweep you off your feet here and now. But you know George from the sports bar is crazy in love with you. I just can’t break the poor guy’s heart like that.”

The hostess shook her head, laughing. “Well, if you change your mind about being noble, you have my number.”

Piper thought Nancy would be wise to give up on Josh and give George, the bartender at Touchdown, a call. All over Houston, from the corner sports bar to the Astros’ stadium, Piper and Josh ran into women who had briefly been part of his life and wanted to repeat the experience. Piper had been on the receiving end of more than a few envious glares from women, who, unlike Nancy, didn’t know Piper had no interest in dating.

Her last relationship, the only one worth counting since Charlie, had ended when her boyfriend gently complained that her work was more of a priority than he was. She suspected that his intent had been for her to change that, but she’d encouraged him to find someone who would focus on him the way he deserved.

Piper and Josh were shown to an elevated booth with blue padded seats, and she stepped up to slide in across from him. An olive-skinned waiter with a mustache and faint accent took their drink orders and left them with a basket of warm bread. The buttery smell reminded her of her mother’s kitchen, where something was always baking, and the upcoming weekend. Piper should be thinking of a way to get out of her impulsive lie, but the more she considered it, the more she liked the idea of a human buffer between her and Charlie. Piper knew from her sister that Charlie had most recently dated the town librarian, but he’d broken things off a few months ago, apparently deciding he wanted a more outspoken woman. Specifically Piper, the outspoken woman he hadn’t valued enough when he’d been with her.

On her last birthday, he’d sent her jewelry that was too expensive to be justified by their growing up together. She’d returned the gift, but he’d still called her a few weeks later to let her know he was going to be in Houston. She’d told him truthfully that she was too busy trying to meet a project deadline to meet him for dinner and had hoped the reminder of her nontraditional priorities would dissuade him. If it hadn’t, she could be in for a very long weekend.

Josh grabbed a roll. “I’m starving.”

Lost in her own troubles, she barely heard him. She needed to be ready for her family, and she could think of only one way to do that. “Josh, I need a man.”