Ask Mariah (16 page)

It couldn't have all been a lie.

Michael's hand on her knee startled her out of her thoughts, and like a spark igniting a fire she felt instant awareness. Another problem, she thought with a sigh.

"Are you all right?" Michael asked. "You're quiet."

"I do my best thinking in the car."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Throwing myself out the door when you stop at the next light."

He flipped the automatic locks. "No can do. You're trapped."

"I'm sure I can open it from my side."

"Nope, this is a childproof car. I'm the only one who can let you out." He grinned. "I kind of like this. There is actually one thing in my life I can control."

"Meaning you can't control the rest of it?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Lily and Rose both have a bossy streak. At work I have the illusion of control. I even manage several people, but every one of my ideas still has to be approved by someone else."

She turned in her seat so she could face him. "When did you decide to become an architect?"

"In the seventh grade. We built a replica of city hall out of building blocks." He smiled at her. "I didn't like the way the other kids built it. I kept wanting to add floors, roofs, decks and arched doorways. It was supposed to be a team project, but the other kids got so disgusted with my ripping things down that I basically wound up doing it by myself."

"Obviously you were good at it."

"I think the teacher gave me a C and said my design was interesting but not functional. She couldn't figure out how the people who worked in the back of the building could actually get to their offices without climbing through a window."

"Everybody's a critic," she teased.

"Tell me about it. Okay, my turn. Why history, Joanna?"

"Because I like old things and I enjoy learning about the past. Actually I started out wanting to be a teacher, but growing up in my family as an only child, it didn't seem enough."

"Enough what?"

"Prestige, money, glory,"

He sent her a curious look. "You don't strike me as the kind of person who wants those things."

"I don't, but my mother and father did. It wasn't that they were that ambitious themselves, but they wanted a lot for me. There was no one else in the family to distract them. Believe me, I longed for siblings.  What about you?  Do you have brothers and sisters?"

"Two half brothers, both younger. My parents split up when I was four. I barely remember my father. My mother remarried when I was nine and had Connor. You would have thought the sun rose and set in that kid's face. She loved him to death. That marriage lasted until I was fourteen. She met someone else when I was seventeen and got pregnant with Brian. Once again she was in baby heaven."

"How do you and your brothers get along?"

"We weren't close as kids, too many years between us, and less close now. My mom and Brian came out for Angela's funeral. Brian is sixteen now. I've missed most of his life. I don't even know him. Connor is in the army. He sends me cards once in awhile. That's it."

"It doesn't sound like you had a great childhood," she ventured.

"It was all right.  And what I couldn't get at home, I got at the De Lucas.  They were my second family long before Angela and I got together.  "

The De Lucas. They were back to them. No wonder Michael was so attached to his in-laws. They seemed to care more about him than his own family did. As Michael reached for the buttons on the radio, she stopped his hand. "I like this station."

"You do? Are you sure?"

"Michael, we've heard every station beaming down a signal from here to Mars."

"If you stick to one channel, you might miss something."

"Or I might actually get to hear an entire song. Wow, what a novel idea."

He grinned as he put his hand back on the steering wheel. "All right. But no singing. I hate people who sing along to songs on the radio."

"Like you've never done it," she teased.

"Only when I'm alone."

"Funny how many things we do when we're alone that we would never admit to."

He pulled up to a stoplight. "That sounds interesting. Do you want to share?"

"Not a chance."

"Mm-mm, I'm getting all kinds of ideas here. Like maybe you strip down to your underwear and dance around the house like Madonna."

Joanna put a hand to her chest. "Me? Do I remind you of Madonna? Because if so, I think you might need glasses, I' m a historian. I like libraries and I adore museums, not exactly a material girl."

"There's another side to you, I'll bet, one you keep locked away because it isn't appropriate for your job or your friends or your family."

She laughed nervously. He saw too much, way too much. "Don't be silly. I am who I am."

"Are you? Maybe we'll have to find out."

Joanna straightened in her seat as the atmosphere in the car went from light and breezy to personal. "I think you know enough."

He gave her a curious look.  "Not even close to enough."

She drew in a breath.  "Nothing can happen between us, you know that."

"You do keep reminding me."

"Because it would be a huge mistake."

"I'm not arguing that possibility."

She should have been happy he was so agreeable, but she wasn't.  "Okay, then."

"Okay," he echoed.  "Can you read the street sign?"

"El Camino del Mar."

"That's the one we want." He turned to the right. "Now we have to look for number one seventeen."

Joanna scanned the houses as they drove slowly along the winding street that would eventually lead them to the sea. The houses were large and set apart from their neighbors. Unlike most of San Francisco, there were shrubs and trees surrounding the homes, a suburban feel on the edge of a crowded city.

"It's hard to believe Ruby Mae Whitcomb could have lived here for fifty years and nobody knew," she mused.

"It's a secluded community. Not much in the way of neighborhood block parties."

"I always wanted to live in a real neighborhood, but I grew up in a high-rise building."

"Is that why you have a problem with skyscrapers?"

"I don't have a problem with them; I just don't think they're particularly beautiful or have any character and what's a city without character.  I can't believe you an architect dream only of tall squares."

"No, when I was a kid, I wanted to build a house with gables, turrets, towers, and dungeons. Something with secret passageways and hidden staircases, and bookcases that turned into revolving doors," he said with a smile. 

"That sounds fun. Maybe you still can."

"I doubt anyone would want to live in it.  What about you?  Did you always want to be a historian -- a teacher?"

"I thought about becoming a ballet dancer. They were all thin, gorgeous, and bitchy. I wanted to dance on the stage in the spotlight with hundreds of men vying for the touch of my hand on their brow. But I'm as clumsy as an elephant, as inflexible as a stick, and I like to eat."

"You are gorgeous," he said.

"Yeah, and bitchy, too. Especially when I'm hungry."

"That's okay." Michael opened the glove compartment. "I'm prepared for hungry, cranky females."

Joanna laughed at the assortment of crackers, chips, raisins, and cookies. "You are prepared."

"A regular Boy Scout."

"Were you?"

"No. I never had a dad to take me to those things. My first stepdad tried, but he was a salesman and traveled a lot. We moved every year for a while."

"Does your mother live close by?" she asked.

"No, she and my second stepdad moved to New York when I was a senior in high school. I decided enough was enough, and I didn't go with them. I moved in with the De Lucas, and the rest is history, as they say."

"You married their daughter."

He flashed her a wry smile. "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

"What about now?"

"I wish I could say it was the smartest thing I ever did, but I'd be lying.  It was the biggest mistake of my life to date," he said with a sigh.

"To date?"

"There's still time -- especially with you around."

Joanna looked away from his compelling gaze. She knew exactly what he meant. Only, she had a feeling she might be the one making the mistake.