The Accidental Encore (13 page)

Craig took a bite of pizza and glanced around his den. He
tried to see it as Allie did, from the perspective of a woman. She said there
wasn’t any furniture, but they weren’t sitting on the ground. The couch was
ancient, but it served a purpose. They were watching baseball on the big
screen, weren’t they? Couches and TVs counted as furniture.

“Which team are you rooting for?” Allie asked. She’d plowed
through one piece of pizza and was eyeing another, but seemed hesitant to ask.
He plucked up a huge slice and tossed it on her plate.

“The Braves, of course. Who’d you think I’d root for?”

She shrugged and took a bite. “I didn’t know if you were a
Cubs fan.”

“I’ve never even been to Chicago. Why would I root for
them?”

He snuck a glance at her profile as she watched the Brave’s
first baseman come up to bat. She was following the game, not asking a bunch of
stupid questions. “Do you have brothers?” he asked.

“No. I’m an only child…well, I’ve got a half-sister.”

He waved his crust at the screen. “You understand the game?”

“Baseball?” She set her slice down and wiped her hands with
the paper napkin he’d supplied. “You think I’m too stupid to understand
baseball?”

“No. I think you’re too female to understand baseball.”

“I really can’t wait for you to start dating,” she mumbled
under her breath. “I’ve been going to baseball games and football games and
golf matches for years. Hockey, I don’t have a clue except I know the puck goes
into the goal.”

She’d called it a puck, he mused as he threw his crust to
Blackjack. The dog caught it in the air and sunk to the floor to savor it like
a bone. Most women wouldn’t even know that much about a game they didn’t
follow. “I take it you date the jocks?”

“Some, but my dad’s a big sports guy. It was all that was on
at his house.”

“Was?”

She lifted a shoulder and took a bite. He could tell by the
way her eyes darted around the room that she was trying to figure out what to
say. “He’s still alive. We’re not really close.”

Didn’t want to talk about her father. Daddy issues could
explain her problems with men. He tossed his napkin in the half empty box and
sat back, patting his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

“Me too.” She capped the water bottle he’d offered when she
refused another beer. True to her word, she’d finished her first beer without
complaint. “You know, sporting events would be a good first date for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s a good way to figure out if someone likes
sports, and there’s no pressure to talk all the time.”

“Do you have any idea how expensive Braves tickets are?”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to get the best seats
in the house,” she countered.

“But what if she talks the whole time and I can’t watch the
game?”

“Then I guess you don’t go out with her again.”

He scowled at the screen and wondered, for the millionth
time, why he was putting himself through this again. “Where do you go on most
of your first dates?”

“It depends,” she said. “I met a guy for coffee this
morning.”

“I’m not a morning person.”

He wondered if he should offer to make her some coffee when
she yawned. “I’d have been better off sleeping in. It didn’t go so well.”

“Why not?”

“He was an overeducated attorney with a job he felt was
beneath him and a taste of wanderlust combined with a Peter Pan complex. He was
nearing forty, good looking, and had no interest in settling down. I’m not sure
why he’s bothering to date.”

“You figured all that out over coffee?”

“It wasn’t hard when he wouldn’t shut up. I should have run
for the door when he said he was a lawyer.”

“You didn’t know he was an attorney from his profile?”

“Attorneys get a bad—and in my opinion, well
deserved—rap. He said he was a University professional, which apparently
is code for legal department patent attorney.”

“So, you don’t like lawyers?”

“My…old boyfriend was a lawyer, and a liar, and a cheat. I
avoid them at all cost.”

So, she’d been burned by an old lover and yet she put
herself out there time and time again. She was an interesting piece of work,
and she was tired, Craig knew, by the sight of her stifling another yawn. “Do
you want some coffee?”

“I’d be up all night if I had coffee now.”

“Any other suggestions for first dates?” he asked.

“Bowling?”

“Who am I? Archie Bunker?”

Allie laughed. “Are you a late night TV watcher?”

“I’m a man of many levels.”

“Yes, yes, I can see that. What about lunch?” she suggested.

“I work for a living. I don’t sit behind a desk. I’m not
going to run home and take a shower before lunch.”

“Drinks, then? If you don’t hit it off over drinks, you can
part ways and scratch her name off the list.”

He grunted as she yawned again.

“I’m exhausted.” She glanced toward his office. “Do you mind
if we finish up?”

“You go on home, Allie. I think I can manage the rest.”

“But you haven’t done the hard part yet.”

“And I don’t need you critiquing my two to three paragraphs
over my shoulder. I’m not a dunce; I can come up with something.”

“Just read through some of the other profiles to get an idea
of what to put. That’s what I did.”

She helped him carry their dishes into the kitchen, set
aside the bottles for recycling even after he told her he didn’t recycle, and
headed to the foyer for her coat.

“So I just finish my profile and wait for the women to start
calling?” he asked.

She laughed, as he’d hoped she would. “Or you can start
looking, too.”

“What do I do if I see someone I want to go out with? Call
her?”

“No.” She gripped her chest with a hand. “I’d be so freaked
out if someone called me. Just send her an email, or you can nudge her online.”

“Nudge?”

“It’s this little button you can push to let someone know
you like what you see.”

“Why would I do that instead of emailing?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been nudged before and then an email
usually follows. I’m not real sure what the purpose is except maybe to warn you
someone is interested.”

“Stupid.”

“Yes,” she said and slung her purse over her shoulder. “On
this I’d have to agree.”

He opened the door and felt oddly disappointed she was
leaving. They’d shared a meal, some conversation, and he’d probably never see
her again. For the best, he told himself as he caught another whiff of her
perfume. “Well, thanks for your help.”

“My pleasure.” She patted Blackjack on his head. “Thanks for
the pizza.”

He watched her amble down the sidewalk and get into her car.
She gave him a smile and a wave before she drove down the street toward the
entrance to the neighborhood. He felt…unsatisfied.

He was full, he’d accomplished his goal for the weekend, and
yet something didn’t feel settled. It was nine-thirty on a Saturday night, he’d
just had dinner with a beautiful woman, and hadn’t even considered making a
move on her. Well, he’d thought about it when she was relaxing on his couch,
her feet tucked under her, her hair inches from his fingers where they rested
against the back of the couch. Of course he’d thought about it. He wasn’t dead,
or married, or otherwise engaged. But something about her made him keep things
on the up and up. Her connection to Mark, he wondered? Leah? “Leave it alone,”
he mumbled before stretching out on the couch. He turned his head into the
pillow where her scent lingered.

Yep, definitely unsettled.

Chapter 15

Leah tiptoed past her dad’s closed bedroom door and tried
not to wince when she heard voices from inside. They’d been back for three days
and she dreaded every morning when she woke up and Carolyn was still there.

She didn’t hate her stepmom, not exactly, but she sure
didn’t like having to share her dad and her home with another woman. And
Carolyn was changing everything. Normally, Leah would come home from school,
grab a yummy snack, and do her homework at the kitchen table. Yesterday when
she got home, Carolyn had a healthy snack prepared for her and expected her to
eat it and talk about her day.

Carolyn didn’t know any of Leah’s friends. She’d never been
to her school or to her lacrosse games. How was Leah supposed to tell her about
the things that happened during the day when Carolyn didn’t know anything about
her? Leah was forced to do her homework in her room because Carolyn always had
the television on. She’d asked Leah if she wanted her to turn it off, but Leah
knew the silence would be worse than listening to the news, and she sure didn’t
want Carolyn hovering as she tried to do her homework.

Leah had just poured Frosted Flakes into a bowl when Carolyn
came into the kitchen with a fuzzy pink bathrobe wrapped around her tiny waist.
“Good morning, Leah,” she said and poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot
she’d set to brew the night before. “Would you prefer eggs?”

“No. I’m fine with cereal.”

“I can make some waffles or pancakes if you’d like.”

Leah tried not to roll her eyes. If she wanted pancakes or
waffles, she’d have made them herself. She wasn’t a baby and she didn’t need
Carolyn treating her like one. “I’m fine.”

Carolyn turned on the news and sat at the table with Leah.
“Do you have anything after school today?”

“Lacrosse and piano.”

“I’ve enjoyed listening to you practice. When’s the
recital?”

“In a couple of weeks. Dad has the schedule.”

Her father breezed into the kitchen, so handsome in his suit
and tie. “Here are my two favorite girls.” He kissed Carolyn on the cheek and
ruffled Leah’s hair on his way to the coffee pot. “What do you girls have on
tap for today?”

“Well, Leah’s got school, and I’m going to try and make a
dent on moving my stuff in the house from the garage. I won’t have much of a
chance next week when I start my new job.”

“Just leave the heavy boxes and I’ll bring them in tonight.”

“I’m not a weakling, Mark,” Carolyn said with a flirty tone
in her voice.

“I know you’re not, sweetheart, but it’ll make me feel
strong and useful.”

Leah got up and dumped the rest of her cereal down the sink
before she threw up. God, this was even harder than she thought. “You picking
me up from lacrosse tonight, Dad?”

He looked at Carolyn with his brows raised in plea. “Honey,
would you mind? I’m swamped at the office, and if you pick her up, I could be
home in time for dinner.”

Carolyn forced a smile at Leah. “I’d be happy to. Where do I
pick you up?”

“At the school,” Mark answered and winked at Leah. “Five
o’clock. She hates it if you’re late.”

“Then I won’t be,” Carolyn said.

“Have a good day at school,” Mark called to Leah as she
bolted up the stairs.

Leah could hear her dad and Carolyn kissing and giggling in
the kitchen before she shut her door and flung herself on the bed. She didn’t
want Carolyn picking her up from lacrosse. She didn’t want Carolyn making her
breakfast, or leaving her snacks, or preparing dinner. She wanted Carolyn to
move out of her house and back to Chicago where she belonged.

Leah crawled over her bed and picked up the picture of her
mother from her nightstand. “Why did you have to die?” she asked the smiling
Becca. “Why did you have to leave us?” Leah ran a finger over her mother’s deep
brown hair. “I don’t want a new mom,” she said to the picture before setting it
down and staring up at the ceiling. Truth was, she didn’t want anything but her
dad back all to herself. Just the way it was before.

***

Allie rushed up the walk to Mark’s house and took a deep
breath and straightened her scarf before ringing the bell. She wanted to make a
good impression on Mark’s new wife, and being on time for Leah’s lesson was the
best way to start off on the right foot. She wasn’t late, but Timothy Beven’s
mom liked to talk, and leaving their sprawling home on the other side of town
and maneuvering through traffic had taken a while.

A pretty woman with shiny black hair and honest brown eyes
opened the door and greeted Allie with a haggard smile. “Hi. You must be
Allison.”

“Allie. And you must be Carolyn.”

“Must be,” she said and stepped back so Allie could enter.
After closing the door, Carolyn stuck her hand out for Allie to shake in an
oddly formal manner. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Allie. Leah is very fond of
you and Mark can’t say enough.”

“Well, they’re very special, but I don’t have to tell you
that.”

“No,” she said on a sigh. “You don’t.” Carolyn moved to the
base of the stairs. “Leah? Ms. Allie’s here.”