Until She Met Daniel (23 page)

“Good evening, Daniel.”

Turning, he saw one of the clerks who worked upstairs. “Good evening, Barbara. Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?”

“Wonderful. And you?”

“The same.”

“See you tomorrow.”

There had been a couple of intensive days working with Barbara as they ironed out evacuation procedures for City Hall. The fire in the kitchen had made Daniel wonder, so he'd looked into the matter and found there'd been no procedure updates since long before the place was remodeled. Barbara had proved quite competent as they put a plan together.

In January, he planned to look at the whole community's preparedness. The fire department held regular drills, which sounded promising, and they'd sent him copies of their after-action reports. But he was also interested in personal readiness, wherein each household had emergency kits and a plan. He wondered if they could link up households to check on each other if a disaster should strike, with a central command...oh, he had lots of ideas. Some he'd had for years, but when he'd proposed them at his previous job, he had found little support. Now he had the opportunity to put them into play. It wasn't the same as being the head of emergency services for a large city, but satisfying.

His job at Willow's Eve was proving far more interesting than the work he'd done down south, with the option of going beyond the normal administrative responsibilities. Not that the council had given him authority to do anything he wanted, but they trusted him to engage in what was needed—city planner, emergency preparedness and anywhere else he saw a need.

“That's the perfect kind of job,” Mandy had said when she'd overheard him chatting about it with a group of seniors in the parlor. “It's hard to get bored when you wear a different hat every day, or sometimes every hour.”

She was right.

Mandy
...Daniel sighed.

He had no explanation for Thanksgiving Day—or none that satisfied him. During those moments in the kitchen he'd felt as carefree as in his old bachelor days. Kissing her had seemed the natural thing to do.

As for trying to keep a distance between Mandy and Sam...?

Well, he wouldn't get any support for that from his daughter, who was enchanted with her new friend and talked as if Mandy was a permanent fixture in Willow's Eve. Yet, she was unlikely to stick around, and knowing he was disturbed at the thought of her departure was a sign he'd let Mandy become too important to him. Ironic. A few months ago, it was the last thing he would have considered possible.

Hell.
He'd even started calling his daughter “Sam” part of the time—the way Mandy did—and Samantha liked it. Apparently, she'd always wanted a nickname.

He loosened his coat, despite the evening chill. Celia had arrived earlier in the day for a belated holiday visit. Joyce had hesitantly suggested it might be easier if he gave them time alone, which left him at loose ends for a few hours.
Pizza,
he decided, from the Pirate's Cove restaurant.

But for the moment he'd just enjoy the community tree.

* * *

I
NSIDE
C
ITY
H
ALL
,
Mandy tapped her foot, waiting for Daniel to leave. She could see him through the glass doors. Why had he parked on that side of the building? He usually put his Jeep on the north end, which was why she'd shifted her own space to the south, to minimize contact with him.

She'd thought long and hard about what Daniel had said, finally deciding she would stay in Willow's Eve, at least until the water project was resolved, no matter how hard it got. Making that decision gave an oddly different quality to everything, something she was trying to figure out.

Daniel was still on the steps a few minutes later, so she shrugged and walked briskly through the door.

“Have a nice evening,” she said cheerfully as she started down the steps.

“Thanks.” He smiled. “It was a nice tree-lighting ceremony on Saturday, wasn't it?”

Slowing, she turned. “Yeah, great. What are you doing, hanging around here?”

“I, uh...Celia came to visit and I'm giving her time with Joyce and Samantha.”

Yikes. The guy couldn't go to his own house? “That's nice of you.”

“I don't mind. Being around my ex is tedious, but at the same time, I'm concerned about Sam.”

Damn, he
did
look worried. No wonder—his ex-wife might have her vulnerable moments, but that didn't mean she wasn't shallow and thoughtless.

“Say,” Daniel said suddenly. “Do you want to get a pizza and help me wait it out?”

He probably thought a pizza sounded casual enough, and knew Samantha wasn't likely to see them together at the pizza parlor. And it probably
was
best to treat each other that way.

“Sounds good,” she agreed. “As long as you make part of it a Mandy's Special. Let's go.”

They quickly walked the few blocks to Pirate's Cove, chatting about the city's Christmas tree.

When they arrived, Mandy noted Daniel chose a table in the middle of the restaurant—dating couples preferred the back booths where they could whisper sweet nothings and sneak a few kisses. He ordered the pizza and brought a pitcher of ginger ale to the table. Mandy stopped herself from making a face—he was making sure that alcohol wouldn't cloud his judgment. It was best for her decision-making abilities as well, but part of her wanted to throw caution to the wind.

Why was the absolutely
wrong
guy making her so crazy?

“Thanks,” she said as he poured the glasses of soda.

“I should have asked what you'd like.”

“This is fine.” Her hormones screamed “liar.” What she really wanted was to find a bed and see if they could create more heat together. It wasn't the kind of gift Santa could bring down the chimney, but it didn't stop her from wanting it.

As Daniel stared into the bubbles, she wondered what he had on his mind. Then he shook his head. “Did your parents give you a hard time before they left on Thanksgiving?”

“What do you think?”

He made a face. “You have my sympathy.”

“And you have mine. About tonight, I mean.”

“Celia's trying harder than she used to, and it means a lot to Samantha. Truth be told, I'm glad my daughter isn't shallow like her mother. Sam's favorite things are reading and drawing, not Prada and Fifth Avenue.”

Glancing around, Mandy saw no one was close enough to overhear them. “I know it's none of my business, but why
did
you marry Celia? You seem an odd match.”

“Ah, hell,” Daniel said with a rueful face. “Put it this way, if your parents are stodgy, self-righteous pricks, mine are guerilla warriors, at least against each other. They never let up. Not now, not when I was a kid. No violence, just verbal weapons, and they're good at using them. Once I got away from the war zone, I swore I'd never live in one again. Celia was fun and rarely got upset or angry. Those are desirable qualities in a wife, but I was too young to realize they weren't enough by themselves.”

“Did you love her?”

“I thought I did at the time.”

Mandy swirled the ginger ale in her glass. They'd both had lousy childhoods, though Daniel's upbringing sounded much worse than her own. And it was nice that he'd loosened up enough to finally tell her about it.

“Maybe they should have marriage guides for people reacting to their childhood,” she mused. “I thought I loved Vince, too, but deep down, one of the reasons I married him was because it pleased my parents. They were thrilled when we announced our engagement. I thought I'd found the thing that would make me fit in.”

“But it didn't.”

“No, but that's partly why I've felt I messed up his life. I said ‘yes' for most of the wrong reasons, even if I didn't understand it at the time.”

“Well, in my case, Celia and I didn't have much in common from the beginning and we just grew further apart as the years passed. Her lack of interest in Sam didn't help.”

“That must have been difficult.” She sipped her soda. “So now your ex-wife is married to the mayor of the city you used to manage.”

The corner of Daniel's mouth twitched. “Actually, I was the deputy, slated to move into the manager's position. Let's just say that when Celia and Dirk got serious, it became a much less favorable work environment.”

No wonder he'd left Southern California so quickly. Mandy had wondered why someone as careful as Daniel hadn't visited Willow's Eve
before
taking the job.

“Willow's Eve must feel like a step down,” she said.

He shrugged. “I was grateful for the offer and it came at the right time. Besides, I'm discovering very nice things about living here.”

“Willow's Eve is terrific,” she agreed. “I've, uh, decided by the way. I'll stick it out through the water project, no matter what.” Mandy sipped her ginger ale again, embarrassed by the declaration. After all, she hadn't enjoyed the implication she was the kind of person who'd cut and run when things got hard.

Daniel suddenly chuckled and lifted his glass. “Here's to awkward childhoods and painful life lessons.”

Her laugh echoed his as they clinked the glass cups.

When Daniel's attention was caught by a news report banner running across the pizza parlor's television, Mandy settled back to watch as well, though she couldn't help thinking of what he'd revealed about his childhood. He hadn't wanted to talk about it before, so he was probably getting more comfortable with her now...thanks to the buddy relationship he seemed to be trying to cultivate.

Her lips curved at his description of her parents. Self-righteous pricks. And her mother and father hadn't liked Daniel in return, something they'd made clear after returning to her place on Thanksgiving. In the half hour before they'd left for the airport, they'd sniped several comments about him. Of course, they'd resented Daniel's chiding over the whipped cream incident, but it was probably more than that. Since they'd come to Willow's Eve hoping to patch things up between her and Vince, it wasn't surprising they had objected to a guy they might suspect was an obstacle.

Could they have sensed her relationship with Daniel hadn't been entirely professional?

Not that they had to worry about it. If Daniel ever considered marriage again, he would look for a woman who didn't get passionate or excited. There was no way in hell that description would ever apply to Mandy Colson. She'd have to be in a coma to stop getting stirred up about things. Worse, she would have to stop caring, and she couldn't do that.

Their pizza was delivered to the table and Mandy started munching.

“Do you remember your very first taste of pizza?” she asked.

“No. Don't tell me you do.”

“Sure. My folks don't believe in eating casual food. They aren't even crazy about finger food appetizers.”

“That explains why they didn't eat any hors d'oeuvres on Thanksgiving Day.”

“Right. Finger food is too bohemian for them. When I was a kid, I thought they might have time-traveled out of the nineteenth century. Or that maybe they were refugees from a 1950s-family black-and-white TV show...kind of a
Pleasantville
in reverse.”

“Joyce said you'd mentioned they weren't the sociable type. That's a major understatement.”

It was interesting that Daniel hadn't liked her parents. She had assumed they would have plenty in common.

Mandy brushed her hair away from her face with the back of her hand. “I hope they didn't make things too uncomfortable for everyone else. It's why I told Joyce we'd go to a restaurant.”

“It was fine,” Daniel assured. “I mostly felt bad because they were so hard on you.”

Shrugging, Mandy sprinkled Parmesan cheese on a slice of pizza. “I'm used to it. Besides, I'd seriously disappointed them just before we arrived at your place, so they were probably reacting to that more than anything.”

Daniel's eyebrows lifted in surprise. “How could you disappoint them in such a short time, seriously or otherwise?”

“Easy. I said I wasn't interested in getting back together with my ex-husband. Vince is my dad's special protégé. I think he's grooming him to take over someday as head of the classical studies department, and when a guy is sedately married, it looks good to a small, conservative college.”

Mandy got the feeling Daniel's logical brain was cataloging what she'd said and examining it in detail.

“What about
your
happiness?” he asked finally.

“They're convinced I'll only be truly happy once Vince and I are back together again.”

“You and a professor of ancient history?” he asked, his voice incredulous.

“Hey, it's the only interest we have in common. I actually enjoy that stuff. I'd met him before, but we really got to know each other on an overseas study arranged by the college—ten weeks retracing the journey of Odysseus. And there were great side trips to places like Pompeii and Herculaneum, or maybe they were part of the tour, I don't remember—I was twenty-one and thrilled to see so many amazing things.”

Daniel swallowed some ginger ale and nodded. “So the romance of the past got mixed up with Vince and made you believe you'd fallen in love with him.”

She stared at Daniel in surprise. “I should have thought of that. For years, I've tried to forget Vince was even
part
of the trip. He sure acted different over there from when he was back in Connecticut. We arrived home and got married almost before I knew it. But then I discovered he rarely had a conversation without quoting my father. And he lived in books instead of the real world. Everything I'd thought was so great about him wasn't there any longer.”