Until She Met Daniel (26 page)

Susan shut the door behind her, looking excited. “I am
such
a dope not to have realized it before. You've got the hots for our new city manager.”

“Don't be ridiculous.
And keep your voice down.
”

“Come on, fess up,” her friend urged in a much quieter tone. “I did about Chris and me.”

Mandy slumped into her desk chair. “That's different,” she grumbled. “He's your husband and you guys are in love, even if you've got problems right now. Daniel and I barely tolerate each other.”

Susan raised an eyebrow. “Really? The undercurrents between you guys practically swept me off my feet.”

Resigned, Mandy sighed. “Okay, I have feelings for him. But that doesn't mean anything. He wants someone even-tempered and unexcitable, a woman who never argues or gets uptight...or something of the sort.”

“You mean you've actually discussed what type of woman he's looking for?”

“N-no, not exactly. It came up in connection to some other stuff.” Mandy didn't feel right telling anyone what Daniel had revealed about his childhood, though it was also the description of his ex-wife that had revealed his feminine preferences. He'd said Celia rarely got angry or upset, and that it was a desirable quality.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Susan demanded, then held up a hand. “Never mind. I know. I was too buried in my own troubles. Sorry.”

“It's okay. Besides, it doesn't matter and he really isn't that important to me.”

“Liar.”

“A harmless prevarication at best. Let me take a cruise down the river of denial. It's no weirder than my parents trying to fix me up with my ex-husband again.”

Susan's mouth dropped open. “Lord, I've missed some good stuff. Did they really?”

Mandy nodded. “Supposedly he's willing to overlook the past eight years. I said it was noble of him, but as usual, the sarcasm sailed way over their heads.”

With a laugh, Susan poured more coffee for herself and picked up another scone. “Okay,” she said, “the financial reports can wait. Start from the beginning and tell me every gory detail.”

* * *

A
N
 
HOUR
 
PASSED
 
and a second pot of coffee was brewed before Susan was satisfied. She gave Mandy a hug before heading out to her office at the paper mill.

Mandy checked the parlor and kitchen. It was still early and none of the seniors were there yet. Some of her best volunteers were coming in to cook the lunch, so she'd have a fairly light day. It should have pleased her after spending the previous evening at City Hall. Instead, she would have preferred being busy so she wouldn't have time to think.

Susan hadn't offered any wisdom in turning off feelings for a guy who was completely wrong for her. After all, she'd fallen head over heels in love with Chris, and they hadn't been compatible, either. But Chris had loved Susan, and now, finally, they were trying to address their problems.

It wasn't the same for her and Daniel.

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

T
HE
 
NEXT
 
DAY
, Mandy couldn't resist trying to tame her hair and dress in sober, responsible-looking clothing.

“Good morning,” said Carl Lombardo when she arrived at the Senior Center. He was the custodian and worked harder than anyone at City Hall.

“Hey, Carl.”

“A new look?”

“Maybe. It was a gift from my parents and I thought I should wear it at least once.”

Her gray suit and cream blouse caught a number of second glances that day; most people seemed to think her regular clothing was better. The only one who openly approved was Margaret, who eyed her from head to toe and said, “Fine suit, Mandy. You could run for public office.”

“I feel as if I'm at a masquerade ball.” Mandy struck a pose. “Don't I remind you of Kim Novak in
Vertigo?
”

“Don't be silly. It's an excellent style for you.”

Of course, Mandy's hair was slipping out of its clips by midmorning, and again an hour later after being redone, so she finally gave up and let it hang free. Daniel had seen it already and he'd merely nodded a pleasant good morning.

When she went home, melancholy hit.

Convincing Daniel she could change into the right woman for him wasn't the answer. She'd already tried changing herself for Vince and knew it didn't work. Admittedly, the changes had been as much for her parents' sake as her ex-husband's, but it had worked out the same. She'd finally realized that if Vince didn't love who she really was, then it wasn't love in the first place.

Oh, well. Vince didn't matter anymore. It was time to chuck him along with the gray suit. And now she could honestly tell her mother she'd worn the gift they'd sent a few months before. Mandy grimaced, recalling how uncomfortable it had been, decked out with the sobriety of a corporate CEO.

Mr. Spock leaped into her lap, meowing. She petted him and a purr boomed from his chest.

“At least
you
approve of me.”

He head-butted her chin, prompting a small smile. Mr. Spock was an excellent friend.

Missing the warm summer and fall days out on the patio, Mandy put the easy chair back and Mr. Spock perched on her chest, gazing contentedly into her face. Suddenly, his ears pricked up and he looked at the front door. Mandy realized there'd been a soft knock, which now came a little louder.

Jumping to the floor, Mr. Spock strolled to the door, yowling. Mandy peeked through the curtain and saw Daniel standing on the front porch.

“Hi,” she tried to say brightly as she opened the door. “Don't tell me you have another flood over there.”

“No, everything is fine. Can I come in?”

It surprised her, since she'd figured he would have wanted to keep some distance.

“Sure.”

As he stepped inside, she thought he was avoiding looking at the couch, but that was probably just wishful thinking. It would be nice if he was as hung up on her as she was on him.

“Want some coffee?” she asked. “It's decaf.”

“Your coffee is always welcome.”

She poured a cup in the kitchen and brought it out to him.

“Something on your mind?” she asked, fairly certain he was trying not to start anything intimate.

“I was wondering what today's getup was for. You looked like a candidate for Congress or something.”

Mandy frowned. If anything, she'd thought he would approve of the conservative outfit, but he actually sounded as if he found the whole thing distasteful. “My folks sent me the suit when I got the job here. It seemed only right to wear it once. You know, before getting rid of it.”

“Then it wasn't for my benefit?”

Her throat choked. “Why would I do that?”

“I don't know. It's probably egotistical, but I wondered.”

Shrugging, she bent to pick up Mr. Spock. “Okay, so I thought I'd try looking sober and serious. But it was silly.”

“You think I want you to be a different kind of person?”

“Maybe. I don't know. But even if you did, I went home and realized it's a useless exercise. If someone doesn't like the person I am, then...it hurts too much to either try and be someone I'm not, or forever know I'm lacking in their eyes.”

Daniel shook his head. “You're not lacking in my eyes, and I don't want you to change.”

“Right, I'm a great accidental lover. After all, I'll move on and won't be here to remind you of uncomfortable mistakes.”

“I don't want you to move on, either.”

She sighed, her head aching. “Sure. And Pinocchio didn't get a longer nose each time he didn't tell the truth. Look, I'm tired and want to head to bed. Alone.” It was a lie, the part about wanting to go to bed alone. But it was also sort of the truth.

“All right.” Daniel set down his cup and walked to the front door. “But I think we should discuss this again.”

“Whatever. Good night.”

* * *

A
WEEK
 
LATER
,
Susan leaned back in her office chair, thinking about the revelation that Mandy had feelings for Daniel Whittier, not that it was any of her business. Mandy had nice taste, even if Daniel wasn't as good-looking as Chris. Admittedly, she was biased on the subject.

Chris.

A smile curved her lips. Things were going pretty well. They'd gone to dinner every night in Vicksville and had talked,
really
talked, realizing there were subjects they'd avoided for years, almost subconsciously. Susan felt stronger than she ever had before, saying what she really thought. Chris was listening. And it seemed they were both realizing they didn't have to agree on everything to have a good marriage.

“What the hell is this?” Big Joe's voice intruded on her thoughts.

“I'm not sure what you're talking about,” she said, although she suspected what it was. “I don't have X-ray vision.”

He slapped a bound sheaf of papers onto her desk. “It's an estimate for retrofitting the mill for water conservation.”

“Oh, that.” She picked it up and glanced at the figures. “I've been doing some research and thought it should be taken into consideration.”

“Damn it, you've been talking to that soon-to-be-ex-husband of yours.”

“No. Well, we
have
been talking, but not about this particular issue.”

“What the hell? I thought you'd finally come to your senses and were headed for divorce court.”

“That probably isn't going to happen, Dad, and it's not your decision either way,” she answered calmly. “But what we need to talk about is the retrofit. We're living in a new era. Water is a huge problem in California and can't be used as if it's an unlimited resource. And many paper mills, if not all, have gone to less water-intensive processes.”

“The old process is fine. We just need a new reservoir.”

“That isn't a good solution, and it's awfully expensive for a water district the size of ours. If you'd spent the money updating the facility instead of putting in your own sewage treatment system a few years ago, you'd be way ahead.”

Her father's face took on the angry, mulish expression that had forever intimidated her. Strangely, it didn't bother her any longer.

“And if you aren't careful,” she continued, “you might lose part of the water allotment you have now.”

“They wouldn't dare.”

“Anything is possible. You have to work with the town, not dictate to it. Everyone has to make concessions, including you.”

He slapped the pages of reports and estimates. “And you think this will do it?”

“It's a start. Besides, look at the figures. A refit is expensive, but over time it will
save
money. The existing equipment is antiquated and you're having trouble competing in the market. Not only that, your environmentally concerned customers have all jumped ship in the past few years. You might be able to get them back, and gain more customers, by becoming eco-friendly. If nothing else, it's good business.”

Big Joe seemed confounded, though she wasn't sure why, and didn't care. For the first time in her life around her father, she was feeling like a grown-up—neither intimidated nor defiant.

“I'll...uh, think about it,” he said. She knew it wasn't a capitulation, but maybe it was a start.

“That's great.” Susan stood. “I'm leaving for the day.”

“It's only noon.”

“I'm part-time,” she reminded him. “I came in at seven, so I've put in more than my usual hours.”

“I want you full-time.”

“As I've said, if you want a different financial officer, I'll be glad to get a job somewhere else.”

Muttering something under his breath, Big Joe strode out of her office. She smiled. It was about time she grew up, or at least, as much as anyone ever did, since she suspected there was always a bit of child inside a person.

Feeling as if a weight had rolled off her shoulders, Susan walked out to the loading dock. A few of the workers made tentative gestures of greeting. She grinned and waved back.

“Have a great day,” one of them called.

“Same to you. Hey, Bradley,” she said to the forklift driver. “How is your wife?”

“Getting stronger.”

“She's got plenty of sick time saved up, but I wanted you to know that several employees have checked with me, saying they'll donate some of their sick hours if needed.”

“I, uh, didn't know that was possible.”

“I'll juggle the books and make it work.”

Bradley's throat worked with emotion he obviously didn't want to reveal. “That's great. I don't think it'll be necessary, but she'll feel better knowing it's available.”

Susan continued toward her car, smiling and throwing occasional comments or greetings at other workers taking their lunch break. Their responses seemed genuine, more comfortable than she'd assumed. Maybe the key to happy living in Willow's Eve was forgetting she was the mill owner's daughter and simply focusing on being Susan Russell.

* * *

M
ANDY
 
STARED
 
INTO
 
the darkness. Her body was tired, but her mind wouldn't let her sleep. It had been over a week since Daniel had visited, asking about the gray suit she'd worn. It might be wishful thinking, but she
had
caught him watching her a lot. Mostly, they'd talked about work stuff, with the occasional chat about Christmas activities in Willow's Eve.

Mandy had expected to enjoy the town's holiday festivities, but now, at the back of her mind, was a sadness. The truth was, she wanted to share it with Daniel and his family. Not alone.

Giving up, Mandy dragged herself out from under the blankets and into the living room to curl into the big easy chair. Mr. Spock let out a raucous meow because she wasn't where he wanted her to be, then leaped up and curled into the curve of her body. His purr rumbled against her midriff.

“I love you, pal,” she told him. “However, I have to admit when it comes to male companionship, a man has something to offer that you don't. But you love me, and he doesn't.”

A couple of tears rolled down her cheeks, and Mr. Spock licked her chin, as if in sympathy. She scratched his neck, and with a sigh, he laid his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. That was the nice thing about being a cat—he could sleep whenever he wanted. No anguishing over things he couldn't change.

It was a good lesson for her. There wasn't any point in agonizing about Daniel—things of this sort happened all the time. She didn't want to be in love, and Daniel wanted someone different from how she was. Being a normal man, he might feel desire for her, but that didn't change the rest of it.

Mandy closed her eyes. She had to get some rest. There were tons of things that needed doing at the Senior Center since so much of her time had been consumed by the water problem. The seniors said it was fine, but she wanted to do the job the way she loved doing it. Even the meals were being planned only a week in advance at the moment.

At 2 a.m., Mandy gave up, got dressed and drove to City Hall. She let herself in and went to her office to spend the next two hours putting together menus for the rest of December and January. Following that, she worked on the supply list. She sent an email order to the supplier for the food they'd need delivered each week. With that done, she went into the parlor and lay down on the couch, hoping to get a nap before the day began.

* * *

A
T
 
SIX
 
IN
 
the morning, Daniel walked through the silent hall and rotunda, and frowned when he saw Mandy's open office door. Glancing inside, he noted the light on the coffeemaker. Since she turned it off when leaving for the day, she must have come back, no doubt trying to catch up on work. It was the same reason he had come in early, but he disliked the thought of Mandy being in the empty building by herself.

He waited, thinking she might have gone to the restroom, but after waiting several minutes, he went searching, to find her asleep on the couch in the parlor. The faint light from the hallway highlighted the dark circles under her eyes. Her body was hunched into a ball, possibly because the parlor's heat wasn't on. He pulled off his coat and laid it over her.

At his desk, it was only with an enormous force of will that he focused on his work.

The town clock was bonging eight when Mandy knocked.

“Thanks,” she said, hanging his coat on the rack. “That was nice of you.”

“When did you get in?” he asked.

“About two.”

“I'm not crazy about you being down here in the middle of the night.”