Belinda (7 page)

Maybe if she apologized—

“Belinda,”
he shouted before she
could even open her mouth. She jumped again. He was making her as
nervous as a cat, and she’d never even quivered at horror
movies.

“About that chair now,” she said. “I’m
sorry.”

God, it was bad enough to be in the state he
was in, without her reminding him of the way her hands had slid
gently along the back of his chair, brushing his neck like a cool
summer breeze. He tried to rein himself in. The first thing he did
was moderate his voice.

“Quincy is going to take you into the
children’s quarters and explain how I like things done.”

Belinda looked at him with eyes as big as
pansies, and her pink tongue flicked her lips. He wished she
wouldn’t do that. It was driving him mad.

Quincy’s coming through the door saved
him.

“You yelled, Mr. Reeve?”

“Sorry, Quincy. Please come in.”

“That’s more like it.” Quincy came into the
room, bringing with her the smell of cinnamon. “With you yellin’
around here, comin’ out of that box on the wall like a cyclone, I
plumb tore the head off a gingerbread boy.” She rubbed her hands on
her apron. “You need to settle down a little. Take life a little
easier before you kill yourself with a stroke.”

He was already settling down some, thanks to
her familiar and comforting presence. With Quincy in the room, life
seemed normal again. Belinda Diamond was just a stranger passing
through, and he was once more a businessman hiring a nanny.

“Quincy, I’ve hired Belinda as temporary
nanny.”

“Saints be praised.” Quincy folded her hands
in a prayerful attitude and lifted her eyes to heaven.

Reeve ignored her antics. “Will you please
escort her to the children’s quarters and familiarize her with
their routine?”

“Why don’t you do it yourself? I got
gingerbread boys burnin’.”

He would never have tolerated such
impertinence in anyone else. But in the Lawrence household, Quincy
reigned supreme. “I’m willing to sacrifice gingerbread boys.” He
stood up. “I’m going to my office downtown, Quincy. I’ll be back
late this evening in time to tuck the children into bed.” He left
the room quickly.

“What about lunch?” Quincy called after
him.

“I’ll grab a bite on the way to the
office.”

He didn’t even stop and turn around, but
called over his shoulder, “Don’t keep dinner for me, either. I’ll
order Chinese.”

The walk down his hall seemed endless.
Fortunately his children weren’t around to hamper his progress. He
didn’t want anything to stop his flight from Belinda Diamond, not
even his beloved Betsy and Mark.

He burst through the door and headed blindly
for his car. It wasn’t until he was behind the wheel that he
realized he had forgotten his briefcase. He’d send his office
manager back for it. Let them all think what they would.

The sound of his engine roaring to life was
reassuring. He was a busy man, driving a powerful car to a powerful
job. He was Reeve Lawrence, a man in charge of his world.

o0o

Belinda followed Quincy to the children’s
quarters, but her mind was still on her new boss. He’d said he
would order Chinese food. Suddenly the big old house yawned empty,
all the furniture rattling around like noisy ghosts. That was
ridiculous, of course. The children and Quincy were there.

“Now this is the children’s bathroom,” Quincy
was saying. “They bathe every night at seven whether they’re dirty
or not. Mr. Reeve won’t tolerate changin’ the schedule.”

Belinda tried to concentrate, but her mind
was still on Reeve. Funny how a house seemed different with
somebody special inside. A hot flush came into her cheeks. Lord
have mercy. Somebody special! Here she was already making a fool of
herself over that man—after telling herself she wouldn’t do any
such thing.

“And, of course, they usually eat meals just
as regular as a clock—breakfast at seven, lunch at twelve and
dinner at eight, with a snack at four in the afternoon.”

“But what if they’re right in the middle of a
game at four o’clock? Or what if they get hungry at three?”

“There’s no changin’ the schedule. But I’ll
tell you a little secret. I got a cookie jar stashed in the kitchen
for just such emergencies. Anytime they get hungry, all they got to
do is sneak by and dig in, and I act like I’m not even
lookin’.”

Belinda and Quincy laughed together. Both of
them were already liking the new arrangement enormously.

Belinda stayed busy the rest of the day, and
it wasn’t until nightfall that she had time to notice Reeve’s
continued absence. He was still at the office, she guessed, eating
his lonely meal of Chinese food. She pictured him in another desk
chair big enough for cuddling. If such a man belonged to her she’d
be down at that office in a shake, perched on the edge of his desk
with her shoes off and her feet in his lap, laughing at something
funny that had happened that day and eating bites of Chinese food
off the same fork. Wouldn’t that be just dandy?

She stood at the window of her bedroom,
gazing out. The moon slithered from behind the trees, big as a
yellow balloon.

“Belinda Stubaker,” she whispered fiercely,
“don’t you dare go messing up this job on account of feeling swoony
and foolish over the boss.”

She stayed at the window a while longer,
hoping for a glimpse of his car as he came up the driveway, but it
got late and he never came. Quincy had said he always tucked the
children into bed when he was in town. She guessed she’d run him
off from his own children with all her talk of smooching in a big
old desk chair.

It was bad enough that she was acting under
an assumed name. The least she could do was learn to hold her
tongue.

Sighing, she went upstairs, opened her laptop
and checked her emails.

From: Molly

To: Belinda, Janet, Joanna, Bea, Clemmie,
Catherine

Re: Reeve Lawrence

Daddy says he’s not an ax murderer; he’s a
wealthy, prominent businessman, respected by everybody in Tupelo.
Is he handsome? He sounds like McDreamy! You know, a little older,
but sexy.

Much love,

Molly

From: Joanna

To: Molly, Belinda, Clemmie, Bea, Catherine,
Janet

Re: McDreamy

OMG, I LOVE older men!!! Tell ALL!!!

Big Hugs!

Joanna

From: Janet

To: Molly, Joanna, Belinda, Clemmie, Bea,
Catherine

Re: Cloud Nine

All right. Time out. Belinda is looking for a
job,
not a
man.
Listen, Belinda, I don’t care if
this Reeve Lawrence has a gold
you know what
, I want you
to get your feet on the ground before you go getting starry eyed.
Remember, we’re all
independent women.

Xo

Janet

From: Catherine

To: Belinda, Janet, Molly, Joanna, Bea,
Clemmie

Re: Belinda’s Future

Wait a minute. Aren’t we all looking for a
man? Not now, of course, but eventually. As long as we don’t have
to depend on a man, then Mr. Right will just be icing on the
cake.

Belinda, sweetie, Janet has a point about
getting a job before you go off the deep end over this Reeve
Lawrence. I know how romantic you are, but you don’t want to end up
an old woman of forty having to ask a man for money, even if he is
your husband.

Xoxo

Catherine

From: Clemmie

To: Belinda, Janet, Bea, Catherine, Joanna,
Molly

Re: Mr. Right

If a Mr. Right ever came to Peppertown I’d be
willing to put my Virginia on the line without a wedding ring.
Gracious, this town is so dead they roll up the streets at night.
Hang in there, Belinda! Sounds like Tupelo was a good choice for
you.

Hugs,

Clemmie

From: Bea

To: Belinda, Janet, Catherine, Molly, Joanna,
Clemmie

Re: THE JOB, THE MAN

How
old
is this man? Some old Friday
fart with children sounds too old to me. If I’m going to save it
all for the proverbial Mr. Right, I’m going to find a young stud. I
want whipped cream with my icing. And BTW, girls, in case you have
forgotten the
E word
, jobs don’t grow on trees. In this
economy Belinda will be lucky to land a job this time next
year.

Do you need $$$, Belinda? Just say the
word.

Hugs,

Bea

From: Belinda

To: Bea, Janet, Catherine, Clemmie, Joanna,
Molly

Re: Celebrate

I GOT A JOB!!! I’m Reeve’s new nanny, and
I’ll be making more money than a schoolteacher! Bea, he’s not an
old Friday fart, and Janet, I’m not about to let him pick my plums.
I don’t know how old he is, but he’s really nice, and his kids are
adorable. There’s this great old woman living here – Quincy – who
used to the nanny, I think, but she feels more like family than
anything else. It’s all so cool. And I’m very happy.

Xo

Belinda

She turned off her email, but she was too
wound up for sleep. For one thing, she felt a little guilty that
she’d neglected to tell her friends that the job was just
temporary, but then they’d get all worried again, Janet and
Catherine would start in about college and Clemmie would want to
drive from Peppertown and get her.

Belinda went to window and leaned her head
against the glass. Miraculously, she found herself thinking not
about her job but what it would be like if Reeve came up the
driveway, got out of his car, and then stood there in the moonlight
looking up to catch a glimpse of her.

A girl can dream, can’t she?

Reeve got up the next morning before anybody
in the house was stirring. He went quietly down the stairs,
carrying his suitcase and telling himself how much he liked
early-morning solitude. Nobody around to muddle his thinking.
Nobody around to clutter the tidiness of his house. Nobody around
to distract him.

Downstairs he tiptoed into his children’s
bedrooms and kissed their sleeping faces. Always when he flew out
before they awakened, he left chocolate kisses on their pillows. In
each bedroom, he pulled the kisses out of his pockets and placed
them gently on Mark’s and then Betsy’s pillows. Then he went
outside and got into his car.

He sat behind the wheel, letting the engine
warm up and gazed back at his house. Something drew his attention
upward. There was a face at the window, a lovely face surrounded by
bright shiny hair. Belinda Diamond.

The engine idled while he continued to stare
at the face in the upstairs window.

Suddenly the window flew open, and her
delicate hand fluttered toward her bow-shaped lips. Like a small
bird, her hand floated gracefully downward, dropping the kiss in
the direction of his car. Unconsciously he caught the kiss and
pressed it against his own lips.

The engine idled louder, catching Reeve’s
attention. What was he doing? Had he lost his senses?

He tore out of the driveway as if the hounds
of hell were barking at his heels. Belinda was still at the window.
He didn’t have to look back to know; he could
feel
her
there, watching him with her big dark eyes, waving that lovely
expressive hand.

He touched his lips again.

An image of Sunny floated up before him—Sunny
with her bright hair and her bright laughter, Sunny with her charm
and her laughing eyes. She had always seen him off. She used to
walk down the staircase with him, arm in arm. At the doorway she
would stand on tiptoe and kiss him goodbye. It was a ritual he’d
cherished.

Her image began to fade, and in its place
came the face of Belinda with her impertinent mouth and her
mysterious eyes, Belinda with her rhinestoned stockings and her red
spike-heeled shoes. She was outrageous and unconventional, a woman
whose education had been on the back roads and in the beer joints
and the cheap rooming houses of the world. And yet... twice she had
blown him kisses in a manner as eloquent as any finishing-school
lady, kisses he foolishly coveted and secretly longed for.

What was happening to him? It was a damned
good thing he was going to San Francisco. As soon as he got back,
he would drive Belinda Diamond to downtown Tupelo and let her out
on Main Street, just as he had promised. With the money he was
planning to pay her, she would be set for a long time, certainly
long enough to find a decent job.

And then she wouldn’t be his concern anymore.
Once again she would be a stranger to him, and his life would go on
as it had before she came, its carefully structured schedules
hiding whatever flaws there were in the fabric of his daily
routine.

o0o

After he had checked into his hotel in San
Francisco, the first thing he did was call home. It was a part of
his routine. The children needed to hear his voice and he needed to
hear theirs. It would be mid-afternoon back home, almost time for
their snack.

He dialed his home number and waited.

“Hello, there. I mean, Lawrence
residence.”

Reeve’s hand tightened on the receiver.
Belinda’s voice brought her into his room as plainly as if she had
made the trip to San Francisco with him.

“Where’s Quincy?” He knew he was being rude,
but he excused himself by claiming flight fatigue. His lack of
manners had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that he had
hoped a thousand miles would take Belinda Diamond out of his life,
at least temporarily.

“She’s a dragon.”

“She’s a what?”

“Well, you see, it started raining along
about noon, and I decided to build a castle in the den. So we set
up the card table and draped it with a sheet, and Betsy decided the
castle needed a dragon, and since I was the queen and she was the
princess and Mark was the dashing knight in shining armor, Quincy
had to be the dragon.”