Better Than Gold (14 page)

“I have faith in you, honey.”

“The thing that troubled me most is Markham Construction called and bumped me for sure this time, and I can’t talk them out of it. The best I could get out of them is a
maybe
for the following week.”

“Wow. That does so suck,” Monique said as she checked her phone for the time. “What do you need to be ready for them?”

“I just need to get the demo finished.”

“On that note, I’m sorry, but your friend has to bail on you, and you’ll let her because Barbara will have a nervous breakdown if I don’t get back soon and I’ll have to work all day, every day. So go to the church and check the records and report the gossip.”

As Monique walked away, Mia realized she didn’t feel any better. Talking to Monique had always lifted her flagging spirits. Not today.

She picked up her tray. Time to start holding it together.
Oh, Daniel, I wish I could make things better for you,
she thought.
Be safe. Take care of yourself.

When she dumped her trash into the can, her chest felt as if she’d dumped her heart in, too.

* * *

T
HE
VISIT
AT
Eleanor’s took longer than Daniel anticipated when it turned out she had invited three of her friends to share their tea.

The women, all dressed similarly to Eleanor, were duly impressed with the ring and even more so with the mystery of how it might have gotten from a coach in transit in England to the pocket of a colonial the likes of Daniel MacCarey in the twenty-first century.

The women she had invited were all tenured experts in various aspects of Victorian and Regency England, the New England states, or the colonial and the post–Revolutionary War United States. They eagerly agreed to research and see what they could find out about Liam Bailey and to consult with the students. In the process Eleanor Wahl had scored a coup among her friends.

His students were gone by the time he reached the lab and he decided that was just as well.

In his office at last, Daniel wrapped up the paperwork he needed to keep the Bailey’s Cove project moving, more like chugging, along the slow university track. Then he sat back with his feet propped up on the desk.

Thoughts of Mia flowed into the void. They always did. He found if he wasn’t actively working on something, she slipped in and made him want her all over again.

He wanted to touch her, to have her kiss him and caress him, to sit and hold her in his arms. Sometimes when he got like this he started to doubt himself, started to think it was all right to let her in, to tell her. They could figure out a way for the two of them to be together.

But he couldn’t do that to her. Just knowing could change her.

He removed his feet from the desk. He wasn’t enthusiastic about leaving, but he was even less so about staying. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but his car seemed like some sort of refuge these days. It always managed to take him away from places he didn’t want to or shouldn’t be.

He had just grabbed his vest and put it on when a shadow darkened his doorway.

“Glad I caught you, Dr. MacCarey.”

His boss and the department chair, Dr. Gary Donovan stepped into the office. When his boss used “Dr. MacCarey” there was always a want involved.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Donovan?”

“Just looking for an update on our pirate.”

“Not much to tell, sir. The man was most likely from the early part of the nineteenth century.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“He was murdered. Knife in the back.”

“These people will love the intrigue.”

Daniel could see Dr. Donovan loved the idea, not of murder but of the excitement. “The students have started working on clothing reconstruction.”

“Good. I’m having a cocktail party tomorrow night and I need you to attend because the pirate people will be there.”

Daniel regretted he hadn’t left sooner. He hadn’t been asked to attend one of the fund-raising cocktail parties in years. Not since his son’s birth.

“Where? What time?” Daniel asked.

“We’ll be at the botanical gardens, 7:00 p.m. sharp. Black-tie.”

Daniel nodded. Dr. Donovan might be brusque and pushy, but the man had given Mandy and him anything they’d needed without question when Mandy was pregnant and sick and when Sammy was struggling through his short life. Because of that, Dr. Donovan could ask Daniel to crawl on his belly across hot coals and he’d do it.

“And, Daniel, you should consider bringing a date, it will help the matrons keep their minds on donations and not other things.”

“Dr. Donovan, I’d like to release the site in Bailey’s Cove to Ms. Parker. The builder’s project is in jeopardy and the sooner the site is free, the better.”

“Not yet. We need to see what this donor expects, how much they want to be involved. We may need the raw site as leverage. If it’s demolished and plastered over, even if we hang a plaque on it, it won’t be distinguishable from any other site where you have to take people’s word that something significant happened there.”

“I’ll invite the builder to come tomorrow night.”

“Go ahead. Just make sure he dusts his coveralls off first.”

“I’ll do that,” Daniel said, picturing Mia the first time he’d met her.

“I have to go. There is a nice bland chicken breast and dry salad dinner with my name on it.” He patted his spreading waistline and, his business done, scooted out the door.

Daniel drove to his condo, willingly for the first time in a long time. When he got there he kicked off his shoes, poured two fingers of neat scotch and made a phone call to Mia.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

M
IA
TUGGED
THE
QUILT
up under her chin and turned on her side with her phone under her ear. The fire crackled behind the glass doors while she breathed and tried to think of what she was supposed to say.

“Mia?”

“Give me a moment, Daniel.”

She took another breath. Excitement clenched in her chest and caution signs flashed wildly inside her head. All she had to do was be polite and friendly.

Maybe he was...

And make no preconceived ideas about this call.
Breathe
.

“How are things at the university?” she asked when she had some semblance of calm.

“The students are working on dating the clothing and will have a reconstruction of the face soon.”

“Great.” She wanted badly to ask him how he was, but she didn’t want to give him cause to lie.

“I’m not calling about that. I have a favor to ask you and I’m sorry this is such short notice, but would you be able to come to a cocktail party tomorrow evening? It’s a fund-raiser. My department head will be there, as well as some people interested in funding the work I’m doing with the find from Pirate’s Roost.”

Mia studied the fire’s low flame and wondered if she needed to go out and get more wood. Would this funding get them in and out of her building sooner? Would he ask her if he thought her coming to this party would harm her chances of getting them out of her building?

“Mia? Sweetheart?”

Adrenaline rushed through her, speeding up her heart and making her body tense as if ready for something.
Sweetheart.
She took a breath.

“Daniel, I don’t know what to say.”

“I asked to get the site released to you today and the department head turned me down.”

“And if I come to the cocktail party, I can put a face on the situation here in Bailey’s Cove. Make turning me down harder.” She needed to get Markham Construction to come to her place next week, not in September.

“Are you interested? Wait, before you answer, it’s black-tie.”

Daniel in a tuxedo. If she weren’t already on the floor, she would have fallen there. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You are such a guy. Have you never looked at yourself in a tux? I just got a mental picture of you in a black tux and I have to tell you, if I come up there and spend a couple of hours, I cannot, cannot be responsible for what happens after.”

“So will you come?”

She had given up all reservations and she knew it.

“What time? Where? Hold on, I’ll need a place to change when I get there.”

“Come to my place. The party starts at seven.”

“Is 3:00 p.m. all right?”
Come to my place
should be glorious words, but they were somehow frightening.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“Oh, the usual, read records, pray for miracles.” Let him figure out for himself what those miracles might be.

“Come for lunch. Pack a bag.”

She flopped out spread-eagle, flinging the quilt aside. “I am dead. You realize that.”

“Can you use some makeup to disguise that?”

She laughed. Ah-yah, she was in for whatever the man in the city had to offer her. “I’ll come, but only if you’re sure.”

“I am. Are you?”

He hadn’t hesitated even for a moment. He was sure, sure of what, she didn’t know what that was, and she wasn’t going to speculate. But a tux. Really?

“Yes, I am.”

“I’ll email my address. Is noon too early?”

Is 5:00 a.m.? How about right now instead of tomorrow?
“Noon would be perfect.” How hard was it going to be to buy a black-tie cocktail dress and arrive at Daniel’s condo by noon? It would be tight, but she’d die trying.

“I could easily come and pick you up,” he offered and she was tempted.

“Oh, I think I’d rather have my own transportation.”

“In case you need to flee?”

“In case I need to flee. I’ll be there by noon.” She said goodbye and then clutched her phone to her chest.

“Are you freakin’ nuts?” Monique stood in the living room doorway with their after-dinner tea.

Mia sighed and shook her head slowly, wondering if her friend was right. “I might be. How much did you hear and what have you already made up about it?”

Monique brought the tray with the teapot and cups over and put it on the quilt between the two of them.

“I’ll distill it. Tux. Your mother’s little black dress. Daniel MacCarey won’t know what hit him.” Monique stood and snatched the tray up from the floor. “In fact we need to go now if we’re to get your mother’s dress.”

“She and Dad will be watching their show. If they are in the middle of one of their shows, we’ll have to sit quietly in a corner.”

“Don’t be their kid. The shows are recorded. They can press Pause for their daughter.”

“You know she’ll be speechless when I ask to borrow a dress.”

“She’ll just think you’ve finally decided to grow up and give you that noncommittal
how nice
.”

“Speechless, I’ll bet you a buck on it.”

They smacked palms to seal the bet.

At her parents’ house, Mia’s mother smiled tentatively when she saw who was on her doorstep. Marianne looked as if she needed an appointment at the hairdressers. Her overly large blond hair didn’t have its usual puffy shine.

She held the door open and let them into the house. The first thing Mia noticed was the TV wasn’t playing, and then that there were no lights on except in the kitchen. When Marianne Parker led them into the gleaming well-lit room there was, oddly, a crossword puzzle half-worked on the kitchen table.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Mom, are you all right?”

“Of course, I’m fine.” She pushed at her hair. “You must have come for a reason, dear.”

“Mom, I need a dress.”

She nearly dropped the package of cookies she was about to pour onto a plate to serve to them, with milk, of course. “I’m trying to guess whatever for. You meet your bankers dressed in khaki slacks, you come to church dressed in the same manner, you...”

“Mom, I need your black cocktail dress.”

Her mother’s expression changed to confused as she pulled three glasses from the cupboard. “It will fit you, yes, very nicely, but whatever for?”

“I’m going to a cocktail party, a fund-raiser.”

Her mother’s face softened. “I can’t remember when you last asked me for anything, Mia. You’re so independent.”

“I learned from the best, Mom.”

Her mother shook her head and lined up the three glasses on the table. Marianne Parker was going to eat milk and cookies. Mia had never witnessed such an event.

“I’m afraid you did learn from me, dear, and sometimes I’m sorry about that. Of course you can borrow the dress.”

“I’ll be careful with it.”

“Of course you will.”

“We’ll take really good care of it, too,” Monique added because Marianne Parker trusted the dry cleaners where Monique worked to take care of her exquisite vintage clothing.

“It’s important to me, you know,” Marianne said as she looked from one girl to the other. There was a frightening sadness in her mother’s voice.

“Yes, Mrs. Parker.”

“I’ll go get the dress.” Her mother hurried away and Mia followed.

“Mom, it’s Thursday. Why are you sitting at the table working a crossword puzzle?” she asked when they were in the spare bedroom. Her mother had opened the closet and seemed to be trying to mentally bury herself in the contents. “Where’s dad?”

“Your father huffed off somewhere. He does that more and more often.”

“Why?” Mia knew the single word was an accusation and she could see by the set of her mother’s jaw, she did, too.

“Your father’s and my business is not yours.”

“Hey, you’re my parents and I love you.”

Marianne let a breath out slowly as she rubbed her hands down the front of her knit slacks. “Your father wanted to do something different tonight and I don’t see that there is anything wrong with what we always do.”

Then her mother reached into the closet and pulled out the dress encased in a plastic bag, but did not hand it to Mia.

“Mom.” Her mother seemed not to hear her and she took hold of the sleeve on her mother’s sweater to get her attention. “Mom, I learned something and I’m going to pass it along. You can use it or not. Try treating him like a friend.”

“I don’t know what you mean, dear. He’s my husband.” She lifted the plastic and ran her hands over the lightweight chiffon with black crystal beads sewn along the V-neck bodice.

“That’s just it, Mom. What if Maxine said she didn’t want to go to Mandrel’s for breakfast on a Sunday morning?”

“Why would she? Where would we go?”

“Maybe she decided to learn to cook and she invited you to her house.”

“I guess, if she had it all planned, I’d go, of course. She’s my friend.”

“So when Dad does something like that, try pretending it’s Maxine asking and react accordingly. Be his friend, Mom. It might be reciprocated.”

Her mother handed the dress to her and then reached into the hanging zipper bag and pulled out shoes and a purse. “You’ll need these.”

Mia put a kiss on her mother’s cheek. She’d have hugged her if her hands weren’t full.

Her mother shooed her back out to the kitchen and Mia knew that meant shut up, subject closed.

Monique looked up from where she sat at the table filling out the crossword.

“It was good to see the two of you.” Her mother picked up the three clean glasses and put them back in the cupboard. The cookies followed.

Mia and Monique filed out like schoolchildren during a fire drill. When they got into Mia’s car Monique snapped her seat belt on and turned toward Mia, who was securing the dress, shoes and handbag safely in the backseat. “What the heck was that?”

After they were rolling down the road, Mia replied, “They’re in trouble.”

“’Cause they’re not watching their shows?”

“Did you see that? She was going to have milk and cookies with us.”

“Ah-yuh, that’s bad. So what’s going on?”

Mia drove on silently, thinking about the rituals her parents lived by, like watching recorded game shows. If those fell apart, they may have nothing else. What if they had one of those shell marriages because neither of them believed in divorce?

“She said dad wanted to do something different tonight and she refused. And I think I learned something really important from my friendship with Daniel. Be a friend.”

Be a friend. A real friend like Monique was there for life, glitz and warts notwithstanding. Cocktail dresses and tuxes. TV shows and breakfasts.

“And you told her... Come on, I’m pulling teeth here.”

“And I asked her, what would she do if Maxine wanted to change their routine?”

“What did she say?”

Mia did a quick shrug. “She threw us out.”

“Hey, no matter who else does what, you’ve got me.”

“You’re the M to my M. I love you, Monique. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I wish I could fix your world, Mia.”

“The Parkers. Experts in creating messy lives.”

“Listen, you can’t take on your parents’ troubles.”

Mia knew her friend was right. She had so much on her plate and now she had taken on a cocktail party.

“I know, but I’m still concerned.”

“Of course you are.”

Mia laughed. “You want me to drop you at home, or do you want to help me try on the dress?”

“The dress, of course, and we can also try to do something with all of this.” Monique picked up a lock of Mia’s hair.

“Do you suppose weddings and baptisms, and movies with cocktail parties, have been enough to prepare me for facing university-patron types?”

“You will break hearts and open even the most secure wallet.”

* * *

M
IA
SAT
IN
her car in a parking spot outside Daniel’s condo, fifteen minutes early. The little black dress on its hanger in the bag draped over the backseat. On the floor behind her seat sat a bag with everything else, including a few condoms. Heaven help her, just in case.

She had spent the entire two-hour drive wondering how she was going to look Daniel in the eyes, those gloriously rich, dark diamond eyes, and kiss him on the cheek and then...

But that was her problem. Daniel wanted to be friends.

She could do that. Soon. She could do it soon. She got out of the car and hurried up the sidewalk and then up the stairs to the second floor.

Calm and relaxed, yeah, right, she rang Daniel’s doorbell.

Breathe, just breathe. Everything is under control.
If he looked too tempting, she’d remember she was his friend. She’d come to get her construction project underway and chat with a friend.

He opened the door. What he was dressed in hardly mattered. All jeans and sweaters looked the same on him. Devastating.

Oh, wow, if she had to be a good friend to this she was dead.

She shoved the dress bag at him and then her small suitcase.

He took everything and smiled. Dead. She was so dead. No one would ever want to be her friend again.

“Daniel.”

He dropped everything and reached for her. His mouth descended over hers, stopping any breath, any thought except to have him.

She broke away and kicked the door closed. “I’m a bad friend.”

“I love having a bad friend.” With his hands at her waist, he rained kisses on her face, her neck, her mouth, and when he lifted her sweater and tossed it aside, rained more kisses on her chest, over her new bra. “Lace.”

She pushed him backward out of the foyer.

He wrapped his arms around her, turned her back to front, kissing her neck, her ear and her hair. Nearly overcome with pleasure, she dropped her head back against his shoulder and panted for air. Then he swept her off her feet and carried her, through the living room and down a hallway, kissing the hollow at the base of her neck, then her lips again.

In his bedroom, long desperate seconds passed as they stripped off their clothing. “Wait,” she said as he was about to toss her jeans aside. “Pocket.”