Until She Met Daniel (15 page)

D
ANIEL
 
LET
 
OUT
 
a breath. Hindsight was a hundred percent, and he was coming to the conclusion that having dinner with Mandy may have been a bad idea. Which didn't make sense. He'd eaten dozens of pizzas with coworkers over the years—working lunches or dinners weren't uncommon in high-pressure periods.

Mandy shouldn't be any different...except she
was
different. And Willow's Eve wasn't the same as a big city. Perhaps he
should
consider changing his approach to the job. Mandy had tried to suggest it the first day they'd met, and a few other times, as well. But while it was something to think about, he had no intention of abandoning his professionalism to emulate her carefree manner.

Picking up a piece of “Mandy's Special,” he took a bite and chewed appreciatively. It
was
a good combination, though he probably wouldn't have thought of it on his own. His usual choices were simple, plain cheese or pepperoni, because Samantha wasn't adventurous.

He watched as Mandy sprinkled hot pepper flakes on the remainder of her slice.

“I see you enjoy burning your mouth,” he commented.

“Sure. I read something once, about how some people eat the so-called ‘dangerous' foods. You know, basically stuff that in your culture are the last thing anyone would eat. Like frog's legs for some people, sweetbreads or chocolate-covered grasshoppers, or maybe French-fried caterpillars. I couldn't handle those, but hot peppers were a revelation for me once I got out on my own. The spiciest thing on my mom and dad's table was the black pepper shaker, and the pepper in it was at least fifteen years old, so it was pretty wimpy.”

“That sounds similar to the way I grew up,” Daniel said, remembering the tasteless food from his childhood. At some point he'd realized it was a queer revenge on his father. “My mother wasn't much of a cook.”

“My mother is fairly good in the kitchen, and my dad isn't horrible, either. They simply don't venture beyond the kind of thing you'd find on a table in
Leave It to Beaver.
”

“Meat, a starch of some type, a vegetable and salad?” Daniel guessed.

“Right. There was a trend when I was in high school to experiment with foods of other cultures, but my parents firmly resisted. After all, they wouldn't want to be accused of succumbing to peer pressure.” Her eyes gleamed with laughter. In this light, they were a darker green, with glowing depths that hinted at mysteries.

Mandy ate two slices, then sat back in her chair and sighed. “That was good. Now I can concentrate better.”

They worked for another hour, but the items on Mandy's list were still only partially covered.

“We can pick this up next week,” Daniel suggested. “Unfortunately, the issue will still be with us.”

“Yeah. You know, I feel as if I'm chasing a great white whale. I can't stop, but catching it may be just as bad.”

“You're a
Moby Dick
fan?”

“I majored in English lit and spent time with all the classics. My parents were pleased when I chose it, but that's because they thought I'd get a doctorate and teach.”

“Otherwise, it's an interesting area of study, but not very marketable?”

“You must have met my folks,” she replied with a grin. “You've got them pegged.”

He looked at the pizza on his desk and pushed it toward her. “Take that home. Samantha's taste buds aren't any more adventurous than your parents' palates.”

“Tell you what, I'll put it in the microfridge in my office so it's available on Monday for snacks.”

* * *

M
ANDY
 
TOOK
 
THE
 
pizza box into her office and pulled out a plastic ziplock bag to store the leftover slices. As she straightened and stepped back from the refrigerator, her foot rolled on something and she plopped onto the floor.

“Crap,” she muttered. “What a klutz.”

Daniel hurried through her door a second later and saw her sprawled on the wood flooring.

“I heard a loud thump. You okay?”

“Sure, just embarrassed by my two left feet. That's why I'm not a runner. I'd probably fall down a rabbit hole like Alice in Wonderland. Then where would I be? The Queen of Hearts would be chopping off my head.” She groped under her sore rear end, found the pen that had started her foot on its sideways journey, and held it up. “Here's the culprit. Let's have it arrested for unauthorized loitering.”

Daniel extended an arm to help her upright, and Mandy gulped as she lurched against his muscular frame. Man, did she want to know how it felt to be held tight and be thoroughly kissed for once in her life. Her ex-husband didn't count. He'd done everything in a restrained manner, as if he didn't really approve of sex.

She stepped back and tried to smile, only to realize Daniel was looking at her in a way that wasn't at all collegial. Suddenly, he pulled her close and bent down to press his lips against hers. Energy popped and she snuggled into an embrace that was as good as she'd imagined. His mouth was firm, while his hands began checking out her waist, then started for her breasts.

But a second later, Daniel released her so fast she nearly fell again. He stepped a few feet away.

Mandy swallowed. “Well,” she said as cheerfully as she could. “I've thought men and women who work closely should get kissing out of the way as soon as possible. Satisfying any curiosity takes the elephant out of the room.”

His eyebrow lifted and his breathing slowed. “That's hardly a strategy taught in public administration or sexual ethics courses.”

“Naturally. Those are all about procedures and rules, not about real people.” Mandy felt uncomfortable about arguing the point because there were awfully good reasons for those particular rules, even if they didn't apply in this case because Daniel hadn't been harassing her.

“I wouldn't say that,” he argued. “The rules, especially about this sort of thing, are intended to protect people on both sides.”

“Careful,” she warned, “you're sounding stuffy again.”

He stiffened. “I don't take this sort of thing lightly.”

“And I do?”

“I have no way of knowing. And in any case, it can't happen again.”

Lord.
Mandy rolled her eyes. “I agree, but now you're laying down the law as if I'd suggested a nightly snuggle. That's insulting. The under-forty single men in this town outnumber the under-forty single women, so it isn't as if I haven't had my share of offers.”

“That isn't what I meant. Frankly, we aren't compatible.”

Mandy gritted her teeth. “I don't know where that came from. We were discussing sexual ethics, not compatibility. But it's still something we can agree on. I explained to you weeks ago that I don't want to get tied down. If you recall,
I'm
the one who brought the subject up in the first place, to make sure nobody got stupid ideas. But if you still need reassurances, I'm staying footloose and fancy-free. If I wanted to be married, I'd
be
married. I'm not cut out for settling down or doing the domestic thing, so you can just stuff those rules up your...” She stopped, realizing she was about to say something extremely rude.

Daniel stared, reminding her so much of a deer caught in the headlights that she wanted to kick him. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I shouldn't have said that so bluntly. But I'm concerned. Samantha is already intrigued by you and Mr. Spock, and she doesn't need to start thinking you're going to become an important part of her life, only to have her heart broken when you move on again.”

“I understand. I don't live the way you think I should, so I'm a terrible influence on children.”

“That isn't what I meant.”

Ha.

Men were skunks. Look at Chris. He'd walked out on his marriage because Susan didn't agree with him the way he thought she should. Yet even as the thought crossed her mind, Mandy threw on the brakes. She wasn't being fair to the male half of the human race and she was
not
taking sides in the Russells' marital woes; she cared about them both, and their marriage was obviously in trouble because of a lot more than a water issue.

It was so damned depressing. And she couldn't even do anything to help them.

“Let's just drop it, okay?” Daniel said tiredly.

She shrugged. “Fine with me. I'm going home.”

In silence, she locked her office and walked out the north exit, glad she'd parked on the opposite side of the building from where Daniel had left his Jeep. When she got home, she turned on the baseball playoff game and tried not to relive those few moments in his arms.

It had answered one question, though. If Daniel had found her attractive enough tonight to let down his barriers and kiss her, he probably
had
gotten aroused during that one argument.

It didn't change anything. And however annoying she'd found his comments about them being incompatible, she knew it was true. The fact that he was hot as blazes
didn't
make him the right kind of man for her, and it didn't make her the right kind of woman for him.

She needed someone who could accept her as she was and not try to change her. And that wasn't likely to happen.

So that was that.

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

T
HE
 
HOUSE
 
WAS
 
empty and silent when Daniel arrived home, which did nothing to distract him from thinking about the mistake he'd made with Mandy, and the even bigger mistake his body was clamoring to make.

Hell. A long cold shower would help...he hoped.

By the time Joyce and Samantha had returned, Daniel had quelled the worst of his body's inconvenient cravings.

“Hi, honey,” he greeted as Samantha jumped onto his lap and told him about the hamburgers they'd eaten.

“And Grandma says she thinks we can get cool Halloween cat napkins and plates for my birthday party. Mandy told her about a store with all kinds of neat stuff. Is that okay, or should I be Cinderella? Mama would like Cinderella.”

“Halloween cats are great,” he told her, swallowing painfully and deciding it was best to break the news about Celia right away. “Your mother called me this evening.”

“She did?” Samantha had been twisting the fringe on her coat into spirals. Now she dropped it and stared at him.

“Yeah.” He exchanged a glance with Joyce. “I'm sorry, honey, but she can't come after all.”

“Oh.” Samantha's lower lip trembled, then grew still again. “I'm gonna go upstairs now.”

Samantha slid off his lap and she trudged out of the living room, her shoulders sagging.

“I don't understand my own child,” Joyce said softly. “I never have. Maybe if we'd had her when we were younger. We'd given up hoping for children, and then all those years after we were married, Celia came along. Perhaps I overindulged her as a consequence.”

He spread his hands noncommittally. This was the most awkward part of having his ex-mother-in-law live with him—when her daughter came into the conversation.

* * *

D
ANIEL
 
WAS
 
AT
City Hall by seven-thirty the next morning and found Mandy in the hallway, redoing the community bulletin board.

“Good morning,” she said. “Do you need to post anything on the board?”

Apparently, she was pretending nothing had happened. And after all, nothing significant
had
occurred aside from his lack of diplomacy.

So what if they'd shared a kiss? Maybe she was right and now that any curiosity had been satisfied, they could go on as simply neighbors and coworkers. She had her goal of being commitment free and able to move on when she wanted. He had his plan for taking care of his family and moving into big-city government. A kiss didn't have to be invested with any meaning.

“No,” he said. “Nothing at the moment.”

“Did Joyce get everything done for Samantha last night?”

“Yes. There were a few school things that went missing in the transition. Naturally we're still figuring everything out.”

He couldn't explain how odd it felt. Though he'd always liked Joyce, they were now living in the same house, and that changed things. So far, they were a bit awkward with each other. That would ease, he was sure, but it would take time. They all had to learn each other's habits and how to best communicate.

“I'm sure you'll work everything out,” Mandy said, still sounding politely formal. “Do you—”

As the door clanged, she cut off her words and turned to see who was coming into the building. “Hi, Elva. What are you doing here so early?”

The elderly woman eased her cane along the hallway. As she hesitated a little, Daniel leaned forward, planning to offer an arm to help. Then he noticed a slight warning shake of Mandy's head.

“I came to peel vegetables for the stew,” Elva explained. “Carrie suggested I could sit at the table and work.”

“She'll be grateful for the help. Jennifer called in sick today.”

Elva nodded and continued down the hallway. Mandy pointed silently to her office and Daniel followed her inside and she closed the door.

“Thank you for picking up on my signal,” she said. “Elva is stubbornly independent. Seniors aren't expected to volunteer, but she comes in once a month to do her part anyhow. There are others, too, but it almost hurts to see Elva pushing herself to do it.”

He'd noticed the elderly woman's fingers were twisted from arthritis. “It's probably better to be active.”

“And it's good to be her kind of stubborn. Offering too much assistance is tempting, but Elva sat me down my first week and made it clear that getting old isn't for sissies and that she'd rather risk falling and breaking a hip than be wrapped in cotton wool and forgo her independence.”

Looking into Mandy's green eyes, filled with concern for one of her friends at the Senior Center, Daniel could imagine how hard it had been for her to learn to respect Elva's independent streak. She might flit from one job and town to another, but she
did
care about people.

“Do you have elderly relatives who gave you a feel for this work?” he asked.

“No. I mean, my grandparents are getting along in age, but they were still working most of the years I was growing up and I never spent much time with them.”

“You seem to have an instinct for it.”

“Thank you.”

Exhausted by the tension between them, Daniel squared his shoulders. “Well, I'd better get to work. By the way, I'm going to send you a bunch of reports and stuff by email. They might help answer some of the questions people have.”

* * *

M
ANDY
 
KEPT
 
HER
 
tongue firmly in her mouth, instead of sticking it out the way she was tempted. Okay, so maybe Daniel wasn't sending the reports so he could avoid spending time with her, but it felt as if that was his motive.

She tried to shrug it off. That morning she'd gotten out of bed with a vague melancholy dogging her heels. Things were getting so complicated. What had happened to the sense of comfort she used to have in Willow's Eve?

It was hard to believe how much things had changed. The time she'd spent in the small town had seemed almost idyllic. Well, not perfect. She'd had to deal with Margaret, and that hadn't been easy. And she didn't enjoy paperwork, which the job required. But compared with what was going on now, all of that had been terrific. Now people were getting angry—and she was dealing with Daniel, all of which made her jittery and oversensitive. Of course, if things didn't ease out, she could look for another place. She'd done it plenty of times before and could do it again.

Sighing, she printed a complete list of the seniors taking the driving class that would start the next afternoon, and also emailed it to the instructor.

Mandy was pleased when Joyce came for lunch that day. She introduced her to Jane, Dorothy and Lou Ella. The four women happily sat down after the meal and worked on a new jigsaw puzzle until Joyce left to get Samantha at school.

“I want to thank you,” Daniel said when he stopped by later.

“For what?”

“Making Joyce feel welcome. She's made a big change on Samantha's behalf, leaving her friends and her home behind. It couldn't have been easy—she must have lived in Ladera Heights for forty years.”

“I guess that would be hard. I'm glad she's getting acquainted with some of the folks here. She seems really nice and I think she hit it off with some of the others. It's important to make friends, whether you're six or sixty.”

He nodded and left, and Mandy pressed a finger to her temple, remembering the old saying about being careful of what you asked for. She'd wanted to be thoroughly kissed, and now she was paying for that wish.

Since she'd started so early in the day, Mandy went home midafternoon, heading onto the patio to enjoy the pleasant weather. An hour later, the doorbell rang.

It was Joyce, Samantha beside her, holding Mr. Spock, who was so big he hung to her knees on both sides.

Mandy smiled. “I see he's been over there again.”

“You don't mind?” Joyce asked.

“Heavens, no. He's a free spirit, the same as me. Say, I was just about to have some lemonade and a snack on my patio. Would you like to join me?” The invitation was a little defiant with the memory of Daniel's disapproval still ringing in her ears.

“What do you think, Samantha?” Joyce asked. “Would you enjoy that?”

“Yes, please.”

Mandy appreciated the way Joyce didn't agree for her granddaughter. She led the way into the patio, pulling a third chair into place, then brought out lemonade and a plate of cookies and crackers, with sliced cheese and hummus on the side.

“What's that?” Samantha asked, staring at the hummus.

“It's made from a kind of bean. You eat it with crackers or things like that. But it's okay if you just want the cracker or the cheese.”

“Mmm,” Joyce said. “I'll have hummus.”

It was one of Mandy's favorite snacks, but she knew it might seem odd to a child. Samantha plopped down on the patio and played with Mr. Spock while her grandmother visited. After a few minutes, possibly thinking no one was paying attention, Samantha dipped a cracker into the hummus and tasted it, then ate some more.

Joyce's eyes crinkled in humor at Mandy, who grinned back.

“I so enjoyed my first visit to the Senior Center,” Joyce said. “It's smaller and more friendly than the one I've gone to down south.”

“This is a great place,” Mandy replied. “Right now, things are a bit messed up because of the water problem, but there are good people here.” She bent down and offered the plate of cookies to Samantha. “How do you like your new house, Sam?”

The girl's face lit up and she stopped resembling a worried little mouse. “I love it. I got a bedroom with a...a kind of a round room in the corner.”

“You mean the tower bedroom. That's the one I'd like best, too. And it has a window seat so you can curl up on it and watch the rain or read a book and cuddle with your cat.”

“I don't have a cat.”

“Well, if Mr. Spock comes to visit, you can borrow him to have up there. Or maybe you have a stuffed animal that would like it,” Mandy said, mindful that Daniel could have decided against getting his daughter a pet. No matter what he thought of her personally, she would never do anything to hurt or disappoint a child. “There's a stuffed monkey I've had since I was five. His name is Tagus.”

She studied Samantha's face, trying to decide if she had her father's looks. Her hair was the same dark color as his, and maybe the shape of her cheekbones were like Daniel's. She had blue eyes and was neither plain nor an unusually pretty child, though she was cute. She looked timid, though, and it tugged at Mandy's heart.

Samantha bobbed her head. “I have a stuffed bunny called Coco.”

“That's a great name.”

Mandy hadn't had been able to visit with Joyce at the Senior Center and found her enjoyable company as they discussed
Galileo's Daughter,
a book they'd both read fairly recently, though it had been out for ages.

“There's Daddy,” Samantha suddenly said. She jumped up and ran through one of the gaps in the bushes.

Joyce checked her watch. “My goodness, I've been here for over an hour.”

Samantha came back in sight, pulling on her father's hand.

“It's called hummus, Daddy. It's real good.” She looked at Mandy. “Can Daddy have some?”

“Of course.”

Mandy picked up the plate and offered it to Daniel, who gravely took a cracker, dipped it into the hummus and popped it into his mouth.

“Delicious,” he declared. Mandy thought he was avoiding looking straight at her.

“I'm sorry you had to come looking for us,” Joyce said. “We were having such a nice time that I didn't realize it was so late.”

“Nothing to worry about,” he assured.

Joyce stood. “Mandy, thank you for the lovely visit. I adore what you've done with this patio, making it such a comfortable place to sit.”

“Come over whenever you like,” Mandy invited, this time avoiding Daniel's eyes herself. “And there's no need to come to the front door. The gap in the bushes works just as well.”

After they'd gone, she idly finished the snacks, deciding it might as well serve as her supper. Mr. Spock yowled and she put the towel over her jeans, so he leaped up and settled down with a sigh.

“What would you say to us moving?” she mused out loud. “Would you mind dreadfully? Of course, I
was
hoping we could stay here. I didn't even think about moving again until recently and...well, maybe it will work out. I'm sure it will.”

Mr. Spock settled his chin on his paws and didn't appear to be impressed with her declaration.

* * *

C
HRIS
 
TWISTED
 
ON
 
the office couch, which had started out comfortable, but as each night passed, became more and more torturous. So far he hadn't found anyplace else to live. As he'd feared, the kind of housing he needed was in short supply in Willow's Eve.

In the morning, he surrendered and drove to City Hall. It was early enough that there weren't many people around, and he found Mandy frowning over a sheaf of papers on her desk.

“Hi,” he said.

She glanced up and swept the papers aside.

“Chris.”
She got to her feet and came around the desk to give him a hug. “How are you?”

“Not so good. I almost called, but...well, I wondered if you would do me a favor.”

“Whatever I can.”

“Would any of the seniors you work with have an extra room they'd be willing to rent to me?”

Mandy seemed disappointed. “Oh, Chris, I was hoping...never mind. I can ask around.”