Package Deal (16 page)

She was mad and sick besides. She’d spent a small fortune to hire professional movers rather than risk breaking everything trying to get it cross-country herself.

“I want my stuff today! Do you understand?”

The local manager rambled in her ear, making excuses she didn’t want to hear. “I’m doing the best I can here. I’ll try and find out what’s holding up your things, but I’m not God, Lady, and I can’t part water and move heaven and earth.”

Kelly slammed her cell phone shut. “I should have rented a U-Haul. Lord, help me out a little, will you?” She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and beyond.

Chapter Seventeen

S
o far, the only positive thing about the day
was
Lacy’s improvement. One
follow-up dose of medication had done the trick, and the school had called to say she was in the clear.

“Cup of coffee?”

Kelly wheeled around in her chair. “Oh. Hey, Waldo. A stiff drink might help, but I’ll settle for coffee, thanks. It’s been another rotten day in the life of a journalist. Another day like this, and I'll either go down with the ship or get used to the storm.”

“Look on the bright side. Maybe you’ll learn to swim.” He leaned over and dug through his trash basket. Head still in the trash, he added, “Sounds like you need more than one drink.”

“Very perceptive.”

The guy was strange. Tall, lanky and bespectacled with long brown hair curling around his ears, Kelly had pegged him for a nerd the minute she’d laid eyes on him. “Waldo, what on earth are you looking for?”

He straightened up, smoothing a crumpled wad of notepaper. “I need this.” He studied the paper for a moment, before tossing it in the center of his cluttered desk. “So there’s this neighborhood grill—”

Kelly’s insides tightened. “I can’t today, but thanks, Waldo. I will, however, take the coffee, with cream and sugar, please.” Kelly flashed him an open grin, not wanting to offend him. Making enemies on a new job would be a grave mistake. “Maybe next week we can do the grill. Tonight may end up worse than today. My furniture has been delayed for two more days, my kid is sick from inhaling insecticide all night long—” She moved her hand to her neck. “—and my throat feels like someone lit a brush fire between my tonsils. I’m hoping it’s not strep throat. I’ve got to figure out what on earth I’m going to do until my things arrive.
If
they ever arrive.”

“Sucks to be you.” Waldo got up and headed for the break room, returning a few minutes later carrying two cups of steaming coffee. He handed one to Kelly.

“Thanks, you’re the bright side of a dark day.”

He sat back down and rocked back in his chair, studying her. “What sign are you?”

“What?”

“You know. Astrological.” One side of his thin lips curled up in a crooked grin.

Kelly glanced around the newsroom, hoping no one had overheard him. Lucky for her, it was five-thirty and the pressroom was empty except for her, Waldo, and Tina
Aikins
—the Dear Abby of Daytona Beach.

“Sign?” She was convinced Waldo was a genuine weirdo. Nobody believed in astrology anymore, not since the eighties and Nancy Reagan. She logged off her computer.

“Your sign?” he persisted.

“Scorpio,” she said with the same reluctance she would have had he forced her to reveal her bra size.

“I knew it!”

Kelly fought to keep from laughing.

He took an old Miami Dolphins football schedule from his drawer. “Now, according to my table,” he said, analyzing the data before him, “y
our sun collided with Amy Winehouse’s moon—not a good thing—right after the Dolphins kicked the Dallas Cowboys’ boots off. You do watch football, don’t you?”
His eyes gleamed with amused insanity, pupils magnified to twice their size by the half-inch lenses of his horn-rimmed glasses.

“So!” He popped up from his chair, spreading his arms wide, reminding her of the beginning movements of an orchestra conductor.

She expected someone to jump out of the copier and yell “surprise!” before pulling a white rabbit from a black top hat.

“Chaos theory at work. It explains your problems perfectly! You have to understand the bigger picture— and keep in mind negative energy thrives on negative thinking.”

He was spoofing her. Relieved to know he wasn’t serious about astrology, Kelly wadded up a piece of scratch paper and threw it at him, hitting him in the nose, the largest, most prominent target on his face.

His arms flew in front of his face. “Hey, hey, I was kidding.”

Kelly pelted him with a second wad.

“Don’t you feel better though?”

She collapsed against the back of her chair and laughed, too tired to give it her all. God, it was nice to laugh after the trials of the last two weeks, and oddly enough, Waldo had hit on something she did believe in—the danger of negative thinking.

“I swear. I must have been born in the Chinese year of the rat.” She caught her breath. “I feel as if I’ve just spent the last few weeks trying to find my way out of a maze.”

“Better get used to it if you want to keep your job here. Willis will have you jumping through hoops soon enough, so mastering mazes and thriving on confusion can help you succeed.”

“Great. Thanks for the advice.”

She shuffled the mess of papers on her desk into a neat stack and pushed them to the right of the computer, a courtesy since she shared the area with another reporter, whom she hadn’t met yet. Studying the mess on top of Waldo’s desk, she concluded he had sole proprietorship. Lucky guy.

She finished her coffee and tossed the cup in the trashcan, catching a glimpse of Waldo. His fingers flew over the keyboard. He talked to himself, pounding away at the keys with the exaggerated strokes of a concert pianist. Now and then he stopped, sat ramrod straight for a moment then resumed typing. He was a madman but a good journalist—she’d read some of his articles.

She covered her mouth, smothering a laugh. No one would argue Waldo didn’t fit any mold, but despite his peculiarities, Kelly liked him. She found him harmless, which was a good thing. The bad thing was she worried about his three-ring circus prediction. She’d moved to Florida for a slower-paced lifestyle, and she wasn’t up to circus acts for the boss.

Oh well, she sighed, I’ve got enough to worry about right now. The future will take care of itself. She grabbed her purse and headed for Lacy’s school.

When she and Lacy arrived home—after picking up two lounge chairs at the drug store—they found Steve’s car in the driveway, and her tired body responded with a giddy wave of anticipation. Fighting her reaction, she tried to muster some irritation at his persistence. She’d asked him not to come by. Told him she could manage on her own. She had the right to be annoyed but couldn’t find it in her. Honestly, Steve McCarthy seemed the only dependable thing on the peninsula. How could she dislike a man who showed up whenever she needed help or food?

Lacy jumped out of the car and ran to meet Steve, who lounged against the front door.

When Lacy charged him, his face lit up with affection. He was not the empty package Kelly had first imagined.

“Hi, Lacy,” he said, glancing over at Kelly and warming her with a caressing look.

His smile won Kelly over, draining her of frustration, banishing any remnants of irritation. Like her brother, he was innocent and disarming, traits, which made it nearly impossible to remain angry at him for more than a few minutes.

“Did you bring more muckmuffins, Mr. McCarthy?”

Steve knelt down, meeting Lacy eye-to-eye. “Nope, sorry. If your mom will let me, I’ll get some pizza for us before the movers arrive.”

“Yay, yay.” Lacy wrapped her hand around Steve’s, displaying no inhibitions whatsoever.

Kelly tossed her purse over her shoulder, eyeing Steve with mixed emotions
. Her daughter’s easy relationship with him pleased her but also left her a little envious of Lacy’s ability to trust.
“You sure don’t do as you’re told. Did you give your mother this hard a time?”

“I admit I always knew how to handle my mom. You sound better, but you still look tired.”

 
“I’m both. Tonsils aren’t bulging anymore, but I’m on my last leg.”

“How’s Lacy?”

Kelly nodded. “Kids bounce back faster than us older folks.”

Steve grinned. “Hey, Lacy. Look over there.”

The curious six-year-old followed his finger to where he pointed at a chameleon, now beige, frozen on the side of the house.

“What is that?” Her features twisted with curiosity.

“A lizard. They
can change color to match the background.”

Lacy charged across the porch to examine the critter. Her sudden movement startled him, and he leaped to a nearby leaf and turned lime green.
 
She squealed with delight, confirming the asthma attack was over.

Kelly didn’t doubt for a minute
Steve could charm his
mother and any other
female he cared to. Her gaze traveled from his congenial smile, down his firm, well-defined body. On the outside he was close to perfect, pleasing to look at, sexy, charismatic. She’d seen young women eyeing him more than once—during the accident on the bridge, at Murphy’s diner, even at the space center. Steve McCarthy was difficult to ignore. That, combined with his thoughtfulness, dependability and his ability to make her laugh, made Steve McCarthy as much a pleasure to Kelly as a torment.

“I think the kid’s hungry,” he told her. “How about if I run for a pizza before the movers arrive?”

“Pizza sounds great, but we’ll go with you.”

“What about the movers? We might miss them.”

“Bad news.” She bullied him aside with a playful gesture and unlocked the front door.

Her arm brushed against his ribs,
sending an image of firm, flat
stomach muscles and warm tanned skin to her brain. She knew, given the chance, Steve McCarthy would thaw her, moving her into spring after years of cold, lonely winters. It was a crazy thought.

She stuck the key in the lock, wondering why, when she’d made up her mind to have peace and tranquility in her life, she’d been destined to take the same flight to Daytona as Steve McCarthy.

When she pushed the door open, the glass panes rattled. “The movers aren’t coming until Thursday.”

“Thursday? You’re kidding.”

“Your hearing is good.” She grinned up at him, giving him a hard time. “They didn’t give me an explanation, just lots of excuses.”

Steve shrugged and followed her into the living room. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Chapter Eighteen

O
nce inside, Steve sniffed the air. “Hmm. A definite improvement.” He hadn’t intended to come over tonight after Kelly had insisted she didn’t need his help, but he found himself worrying about them all day long. He wondered if Lacy was okay, if Kelly needed help, and…well, he just couldn’t let her do all the work necessary after the movers dumped everything in the middle of the house—which they were bound to do. He knew Kelly had no one else to count on, and he guessed a six-year-old kid could be more a hindrance than a help.

“Look, I don’t mean to seem pushy. I know you asked me not to come tonight, but honestly, I’m worried about the two of you. Lacy sounded bad this morning, and well…you looked pretty rough yourself.”