What's Yours is Mine (16 page)

He closed his eyes again.
 

“It’s just that I heard. A foreclosure, it sounded like, right?”

He kept them closed. “You got lucky. I’ll take Stan’s dirty money. It’ll keep my sister and nephews off the street.”

“Oh. Okay. Good. That’s great, then.”
 

Silence. He tried focusing on the trill of the flute, the gentle bells. But Darcy was still in the room. He felt her presence like an insistent itch.
 

He opened his eyes again. “What?”

“Well, you have it covered, which is great. And you
should
move out. One of us needs to, God knows, before this gets even messier.” She glanced at the bed, then quickly away. “But she still needs a job, right? Your sister? Because she’s always getting in your hair, I’ve noticed. She needs you a lot. Leans on you.”

He frowned. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Sheila was my rock after our mother left. She took care of me, raised me. I owe her this and more.”

“Right. But she had an ugly divorce, and now she’s got no job and no prospects. So she’ll be a drain on you, and her self-esteem is already shot to hell. Fun times.”

Will went to turn the music off. Tinkling bells weren’t exactly the right background for this conversation. “You do have a point, I assume? Aside from making me feel even worse about my sister’s situation?”

“I know you’re still pissed at me about Stan’s offer. Even though I had nothing to do with it. And it’s a generous offer, besides. But here’s the thing.”

She hesitated. The world’s longest pause.
 

Will was a patient man. He prided himself on it.
 

That was before Darcy. “What? What’s the thing?”

“There’s a job opening. I think she has a good shot at it. Especially if I coach her.”

“Where’s the gig?” He snagged his phone from the top of the dresser.
 

“That’s just it. She could get the job, but it’s probably better if she use her married name. I can get her the interview and prime her, and—”

Will paused, his finger poised to press Sheila’s icon in his phone favorites list. His finger hovering, not pressing. Not making the call. “Golden Organics.”

“It’s got good benefits, an easygoing boss. I’m sure if she did well, they’d—we’d—consider her for a promotion to a position that could lead to a career track. It would be good for her. Good for you too, because she’d be more independent.”

Will sat heavily on the bed. She was right. Sheila needed a job, not just for the money but to start rebuilding her fragile sense of self-worth.
 

But Golden Organics, of all places. And Darcy Jennings the mastermind behind the hire. That was irony, deep and pure.
 

“Why are you doing this? It’s not in your best interests. I’ll have less reason to take the bribe.”

“I felt bad for her, that’s all. It’s the right thing to do. If you don’t accept Stan’s offer, so be it. You won’t be staying long either way.”
 

That sounded more like the woman he knew.
 

She slicked her hair back with her hands, regaining her professional poise. “Let me know. The offer only holds for the next hour. But you’d have to get her here as soon as possible so I can preinterview her and get her ready. Assuming she’s up for the job, that is. No guarantees, of course.” With that, she left the room.
 

The woman was good at exits. He had to give her that. Contradictory and complicated, but she sure could milk the theatrical moments.
 

Will called Sheila. What else could he do? He didn’t tell her where the job was, or who would do her initial interview, just that she should deposit the boys with her neighbor and come on over, wearing her best suit. But not the pantsuit, something a little newer. Irritated, Sheila almost hung up on him but finally agreed to ransack her closet and find a suitable outfit.

Then he went to find Darcy.

Chapter Thirteen

Darcy sat on the front stoop, tossing pebbles, feeling unaccountably depressed.
 

Will hated her. It shouldn’t matter, but there it was.
 

He had such a calm demeanor, such a soft voice. When he got angry, his eyelid twitched and his forehead got red, but his voice almost always stayed quiet. Scary how controlled he was, how he could cut off his own angry tirade like unplugging a live socket. Electric energy pulsing between them and then…nothing.
 

Darcy tossed another pebble toward the bamboo grove. It plunked against a stalk. Her father was right. She had to maintain an emotional distance. She had a campaign to wage, even if she’d just sabotaged her own goal by offering Sheila a chance at the Golden Organics job. She’d never done anything like that in her life. Helped her coworkers, yes, when she could. But reached a hand out to her opponents? Undoing her own campaign? Unthinkable.
 

This time, she scooped up an entire handful of pebbles, smooth and pale in the palm of her hand. They smacked against a low-rise planter like the patter of a rainstorm.
 

Maybe she’d sabotaged herself because she didn’t want to see Will move out. How screwed up was that? If he didn’t, then she had to. And that? That was unacceptable.
 

No, it wasn’t about feelings she might harbor toward Will. It was about fighting fair. Seeing Will forced to move out to keep his sister from losing her house was just wrong. If he left after realizing that Darcy deserved this place more, or if he got a better offer somewhere else, or if she’d planted herself so firmly in her domain that there was no room for him anymore? Those were good reasons. This situation with Sheila and the mortgage was the nuclear bomb version of winning this war. Not right.
 

She let the pebbles run through her hand, a bumpy stream.
 

“Can I play?”

The little girl from across the courtyard was standing in front of her. She’d arrived quietly. Stealth kid. She was wearing bright red overalls and a baseball cap, looking like a little tomboy.
 

“It’s not a game.”
 

The girl looked crestfallen.
 

“Unless you want us to make up some rules? Like, you have to try and keep all the black ones in your hand, only let the white ones fall.”

“Boring. How about if you toss one up in the air and I try to hit it with another one?”

“Antiaircraft missile. I like it.”

Brianna gave her a blank look.

“Never mind.”
 

Inside the condo behind her, she could hear Will cross the living room. She threw a pebble in the air. Brianna threw hers. Missed by a mile, of course. Darcy and her small companion both laughed. It felt good to laugh.
 

“My turn.” The girl flipped a pebble in the air. Darcy aimed, tossed. Missed. She let out an exaggerated sigh and tossed her next pebble. Brianna missed but got close.
 

“Oh, good one.”

“Briiiiianna!” An older woman with tightly curled, waxed gray hair wandered around the edge of the courtyard, looking lost.
 

Brianna ignored the call and knelt on the ground, rooting for a good throwing pebble.

“Shouldn’t you respond?”

“It’s just Grammy.”

“Brianna, where
are
you?” The grandmother sounded panicky.

“Over here!” Darcy waved.

Brianna frowned at her. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”

The grandmother hurried over. “Brianna! Why didn’t you answer?” She grabbed her granddaughter’s arm. “Don’t play in the dirt. You’ll have to wash your hands again when we get inside.” She flicked her gaze over Darcy, then turned back to Brianna. “I told you not to talk to people like that.”

Had she heard the woman right? “Excuse me?”

The older woman flicked her gaze over Darcy. “I wasn’t addressing you.”

“What’s wrong with your granddaughter tossing some pebbles with someone like me?”

“You’d know better than I would.” She turned away. “Come along, Brianna.”

Darcy stood up, brushing dirt off her pants. “I’d know what, exactly? What have you heard about me?”

“I know Tim wants you out for illegal funny business. I know what you’re doing in there.”

“Uh, living? Last time I looked, that was legal.” This woman was crazy. That was the only explanation.

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I’ve been watching you from my daughter-in-law’s front window. All those comings and goings. You come outside, then you go back in and someone shows up. Then
he
comes outside barefoot, and then runs back inside and slams the door. Something’s going on.”

Brianna looked anxious. “Grammy, can we go home? I’m hungry.”
 

Darcy knew she should take Brianna’s cue, but she couldn’t let go that easily. “I bought this condo; it’s my home. I happen to be temporarily sharing it, but I assure you, there’s nothing illegal going on here.”

“You’d say that, wouldn’t you?”
 

Darcy could feel Will step into the doorway behind her. “Is there a problem?”

Darcy stood up to form a united front with him. “Would you like to explain, ma’am?”

Tightly Wound Grammy sized them up, especially Will, and went mute.
 

The girl’s mother appeared in the courtyard, her hands on her hips. “Brianna!” She spotted them and came across the courtyard. “Louise? What’s going on here?”

Will said, “That’s what I’d like to know.”

Darcy smirked. “A misunderstanding, I’m sure.”

The girl’s mother gave Brianna a little pat on her back. “Go home and get cleaned up. You’ve got mud streaks on your face. Louise, can you take the roast out of the freezer for tonight? I’ll be there in a minute.”
 

Suspicious Grammy gave Darcy an evil look, then went. Brianna winked at Darcy, rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, smearing it with more dirt, and went too.
 

Brianna’s mother brushed her hand against her skirt and proffered it. “Megan Farrow. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to say hello last time.”

“Darcy Jennings.” The other woman had a firm handshake. Darcy immediately liked her. An unusual feeling. “Farrow? Any relation?”

“To Tim?” Megan grunted. “Unfortunately. He’s my brother-in-law.” She glanced at Will. “No offense, Will, but the guy is a pain in the butt. He keeps foisting his mother on me.”

Behind Darcy, Will laughed. Was that the first time she’d heard him laugh? “No offense taken. He’s an employer, that’s all. Though I do rather like him.”

Megan turned to Darcy. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about my mother-in-law. She’s the reason Tim’s so uptight. She’s always seeing conspiracy theories and imagining criminal rings.” Megan had a winning smile.
 

“What’s our crime?”
 

Megan plunked herself down on the stoop. After a momentary hesitation, Darcy followed suit.
 

Will headed back inside after giving Darcy an ambiguous look. He seemed much less hostile than he had earlier. Unless he was taking the opportunity to lock her out? No, she didn’t hear that telltale click. She relaxed a hair.

Megan laughed. “You’re not going to believe this.”

Darcy cocked her head. “After meeting the woman, I probably would.”
 

“She thinks you’re drug dealers.”

Darcy choked. “She what? Why?”

Megan grinned. “You never leave the house.”
 

“That’s because—”

“I know, Tim told me. And may I say, wow. What a tangle.”

Darcy smiled at this unexpected woman. “I thought you were going to say we should put up a curtain, split the condo in half like Solomon’s baby. That’s what the lawyer said. Or tell me I should find another condo, like there are hundreds of these beauties strewn around tiny Santa Genoveva for the taking.”

“Heck, no. This is a one-of-a-kind place. Feng shui and sunlight and peace, and what a location, huh? I’d fight for mine, I’ll tell you that. Tooth and nail, claws and teeth.”

Darcy looked her over. “I think I like you.”

Megan grinned and leaned forward. “I like Will well enough, but I could use a girlfriend in the complex. If you want, I’ll help you figure out solutions to make him leave. I’m good at brainstorming. Besides, it gives me an excuse to avoid going in there”— she glanced over at her condo —“with her. She thinks she’s being a help, and she is, only…”
 

“Understandable. Okay, let’s see. I bought a metric buttload of furniture, which is supposed to, oh crap, arrive today. Will is going to hate me.”

Megan raised her eyebrows. “Isn’t that the point? To get him riled enough to leave?”

“Yeah, but—” Darcy took a deep breath. “Yes, it is. Of course it is. But somehow I keep undercutting my own plans. Like today, I never should have—” She fizzled out. Because here came the
shouldn’t have
right now.
 

Sheila was bustling through the courtyard, her boys trailing behind. She spotted Darcy the same moment Darcy saw her, and her nervous expression turned into a defiant sneer. “You’re still here. Of course you are.”

“Hello to you too.” Darcy turned to Megan. “Megan, this is Will’s sister, Sheila…Uh, I’m sorry, I don’t know your last name.”

“Beshke.”

“Sheila Beshke, then. And Sheila, this is Megan Farrow, my neighbor.” She ever so slightly emphasized the
my
. She’d better start reclaiming ownership, or Will would take over by default.
 

Sheila thinned her lips, but before she could retort, she abruptly raced away. “Jakey!” The toddler had wandered off and was trying to pull a thorn off a large, potted cactus outside someone’s condo.
 

“Jakey, don’t do that!” Sheila scooped her son up out of harm’s way.
 

Will’s voice rumbled from behind Darcy. “I thought you were leaving them with the neighbor. This is an interview, Sheil.”
 

As Darcy stood up, he was close enough she could smell lime and fresh ginger on his fingers.

“I know, but I didn’t— She wasn’t home and I…I don’t know where else to—”