Toys and Baby Wishes (27 page)

Suddenly, the outside door opened with a bang. 

The man's suit was expensive, the cigar in his mouth
imported.  His pot belly almost hid his gold belt buckle and his face was
contorted with anger.  Seth was instantly on the alert.

The newcomer was sweating profusely as he headed straight
for Darcy, flicked the cigar from his mouth, and bellowed, "I told you I
wouldn't pay another mechanic for something he didn't fix right.  That ### air
conditioner shut off over in Palmyra!"

Instinctively, Seth stepped closer to Darcy and was
surprised by the fragrance of a flowery perfume.  Why the devil did she wear
that in a garage?

An odd protectiveness he hadn't felt in a long time put more
menace in his voice than he intended.  "The lady doesn't appreciate your
tone or your language." 

The grey haired man stared him down.  "I don't know who
you are, but if you're part of this business I'll sue you too.  I want that air
conditioner fixed and if it's not done right this time, I want my money back. 
You people seem to think you can charge an arm and a leg without doing a
minute's worth of work."

"Mr. Pickering."  Darcy's soft voice cut the
tension between the men.

Mr. Pickering switched his gaze to her.

"I know this is inconvenient for you.  But I told you
the air conditioner on your car was unfamiliar to us.  Steve made the
corrections he thought were necessary, but we'd be happy to look at it
again."

Seth couldn't believe the change that came over Pickering as he stared at Darcy long and hard and her gaze didn't waver.  The belligerent
expression left his face, and he looked almost contrite.

"All right," he agreed.  "I'll give you
another chance.  But I won't pay three times to have the same thing
fixed."

She smiled patiently.  "We wouldn't expect you to.  Of
course, we'll look at it free of charge."  Her voice was calm and certain.

Pickering hazarded Seth a glance.  "I'll bring the car
back on Monday.  I need it this weekend, with or without air
conditioning."  He stuffed the cigar back in his mouth and exited as
loudly as he'd entered.

Darcy moved to the back of the service desk.  "I didn't
need your interference," she said in a low voice.

Seth was as surprised at her tone as he was at her words. 
Interference?  Most women would thank him for stepping in.  "He could have
become even more abusive than he was."

"I can handle Mr. Pickering.  Before he came to us,
he'd had several bad experiences with service departments.  He's a sales rep
and spends most of his day in his car.  He needs that air conditioning."

"That doesn't give him the right to be..."

"Rude?" she asked sweetly.

The longer Seth was in this woman's company, the more she
intrigued him.  She seemed capable of handling any situation.  But that didn't
mean she couldn't use help.  Legal help.  In case the blustering man's threat
wasn't in vain, Seth pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and extracted a
business card.

"If Pickering makes good his threat or gives you
trouble, call me.  We can do something legally."

She accepted the card and read it.  A strange expression
crossed her face.  "That's where I heard your name!"

"Excuse me?"

"You're a lawyer.  You're representing Brad
Winston."

"Do you know him?"

"His ex-wife is my best friend."  She looked up at
Seth, her eyes filled with accusation.  "I can't believe you took his
case.  He doesn't deserve to have custody of his daughter.  Marsha has taken
care of Jenna, paid Brad's debts--"

Seth cut in.  "Obviously your view is biased."

She blew out a breath as if struggling with her patience. 
Her cheeks were as rosy as her voice was agitated.  "I'm a lot less biased
than you.  You don't know Marsha or Brad or Jenna.  How can you dream of taking
a little girl from her mother?"

"Just a minute.  From what Winston tells me, he has
cause."

"He lies.  He always has.  It gets him out of
trouble."

Seth had only agreed to consider Winston's case last week, not
take it on as yet.  But if what the divorced man had told him was true, he had
grounds to fight for custody.  If Darcy and Marsha Winston were best friends,
Darcy was probably blinded by loyalty.  Seth had seen that happen many times.

"It looks like we're on different sides of the
fence."

Darcy lifted her chin.  "It doesn't matter if we
are."  Her fiery, shoulder-length hair was incongruous with the overalls
decorated with swipes of grease.  One smudge smeared a particularly enticing
spot on her left breast.  "Yes, it does."

He lodged one hip against the desk in a relaxed pose, though
he felt far from relaxed, wondering if she was as soft as she looked beneath
that smudge.  "I'd like you to go to dinner with me tonight."

She blinked.  "That's not a good idea."

"Why not?  Is it the way I'm dressed?"  He felt
her eyes as they passed over his chest.  Desire pulsed.  He couldn't remember a
woman's gaze ever doing that to him.

"No."

She sounded a little breathless but that could be his
hopeful imagination.  "Then what's the problem?"

"I read your bio.  I saw your picture in the paper last
year when you represented Senator Gotlieb.  I'm a small town girl.  We move in
different circles."

"You mean you're a snob."

"I am not!"

"Prove it.  If you don't want to go to dinner, we could
drive through town, enjoy the candy kiss streetlights, the smell of chocolate. 
You could clue me in on the good restaurants and give me a personal tour to
acquaint me with the town. Maybe I can rent a convertible. How does that sound?" 
He hadn't socialized with anyone except his partner since he'd arrived in
Hershey.  Darcy Kearn would definitely be more entertaining and exciting.

"I can't.  You're representing Brad.  That's enough
reason for us not to get...friendly."

He didn't agree.  But he never forced a woman to do
something she didn't want, and he didn't have time to play games.  He wasn't
good at them anyway.  Strategy, yes.  Male-female manipulations, no.

Reaching for one of her business cards, Darcy jotted a
number and address on the back and pushed it toward him.  "That's the
number for the rental agency.  Ask for Jed.  Tell him I sent you."

She'd removed herself from him.  Clearly, she thought he was
the enemy.  A lick of frustration made him goad her.  "Public
relations?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you handle public relations for the car rental
agency?  Drum up business?  Or is Jed more than a business acquaintance?"

That brought her clear aquamarine eyes up to his.  "Jed
owns a car dealership."  At his skeptical expression, she said, "We
do favors for one another when we can."

"Really." 

"Good business contacts are indispensable."  The
fire in her eyes told him she'd caught his inference but wasn't going to take
the bait. 

He pressed.  "You don't date him?"

"I don't see that that's any of your business, but no,
we don't date.  Now, if you give me the number where we can reach you Monday,
we'll call and give you an estimate and tell you what time your car will be
finished."

"Do you do that for all your customers?"

"Any new ones and anybody who asks.  In the long run it
saves time and prevents misunderstandings and problems."

He should leave.  But damn!  He wanted to know more about
her.  "Are you going to work on my car?"

Her eyes met his.  "Do you think it unlikely a woman
can understand engines, lugnuts and bolts?"

Seth imagined she'd had to defend her occupation more times
than she wanted to count.  "I've never met a lady mechanic, let alone a
woman who owned her own garage.  You're unique."  And captivating.  But if
he'd hoped she would distract him from the jar of moving and ease his
restlessness, her expression told him jogging would have to do it instead.  She
wasn't interested.

"That's a new way of putting it," she finally
said.

Against his better judgment, he persisted.  "What makes
you unique, Darcy?  Why are you so comfortable here?"  He waved at the
service lifts.

She looked as if she might not answer.  But she must have
seen he was truly interested.  "This was my pop's garage.  For as long as
I can remember, I followed him around, handed him screwdrivers, wires,
wrenches.  By the time I was twelve, I knew my way around an engine better than
my older brothers."

"You grew up in Hershey?"

"Um hm.  Lived here all my life."

And loved it from the tone of her voice.  He couldn't imagine
being that attached to any place...or to anyone.  Obviously, he and Darcy were
cut from different bolts of cloth.  Their backgrounds were as different as
December and July.  She'd already figured that out.  He'd do well to follow her
lead.

***

The sky was a blue swell tipped with foamy whitecaps.  Darcy
hoped the unusual and muggy, beginning-of-June heat wave would be short-lived. 
Letting her back screen door swing shut, she descended her porch steps
carefully, clutching the crock pot bubbling with baked beans.

As she threaded her way around the high spirea hedge
separating her property from Marsha's, she heard splashing and Jenna's
squeals.  Darcy emerged into her neighbor's yard and grinned affectionately at
the eight-year-old girl sitting on Chuck's shoulders as he tried to buck her
off into the above-ground pool.

Chuck Porter was a gentle man with a big heart who'd somehow
slipped past the wall of Marsha's divorce-hardened reserve.  Husky, with a full
butterscotch beard, he reminded Darcy of Paul Bunyan.  He waved at her. 
"Come on in and cool off."

"Yeah, Darcy," Jenna chimed in.  "Mom doesn't
want to get her hair wet again.  You don't care about yours, do you?"

Since her divorce, Marsha was constantly concerned about her
appearance.  She made sure she was pedicured and manicured, with each brown
hair brushed neatly into a perfect hairdo.

Darcy walked to the picnic table and set down her
contribution to dinner.  "I'll hop in after supper."

Marsha emerged from her back door in a pink and yellow Hawaiian
print outfit.  Her makeup was flawlessly applied and she looked younger than
her thirty-two years.  Darcy marveled at how different she and Marsha were, but
cherished the closeness they'd developed in the last three years.

When Darcy's father died and his estate settled, Darcy had
invested her share in the Cape Cod next door.  She and Marsha had become fast
friends.  And Jenna...  Darcy had fallen in love with her at first sight.  Her
huge brown eyes, her full-cheeked face framed by heavy straight chestnut hair
that swung around her chin.  She'd stolen Darcy's heart and Darcy wondered if
she could feel any more had her own child been born.

Darcy asked, "Can I help with anything?"

Marsha waved her inside.  "Sure.  There's lots more to
carry out.  Chuck bought macaroni salad, pickled eggs and potato chips so we
could all swim and I didn't have to spend time in the kitchen."  As she
led Darcy into the back door of the compact rancher, she said in a low voice,
"He's so thoughtful, he scares me."

Darcy opened Marsha's refrigerator and took out two liters
of soda.  "Why are you scared?  You deserve to be loved."

Marsha's amber eyes were deadly serious.  "Do I?  What
if I mess it up again?  What if I'm not enough to keep him here instead of at
card games?  What if..."

Darcy had picked up the package of paper cups.  She thumped
them back down on the counter as she confronted her friend.  "Stop it. 
Chuck and Brad are two different people.  Don't compare them; don't compare
your relationships."

Marsha's eyes became unnaturally bright.  "I have to. 
I can't make a mistake again.  I have to think about Jenna.  I thought love was
enough the first time and it wasn't."

Darcy's tone gentled.  "You're older now and definitely
wiser.  Trust your judgment.  Trust Jenna's.  I think she's closer to Chuck
than she ever was to Brad."

Marsha nodded.  "She adores him.  Brad hardly paid
attention to her while we were married.  Since the divorce, he's been a Santa
Claus.  Chuck spends time with her instead of buying her presents.  He listens
to her.  I can't understand why Brad wants custody."

"I met his lawyer."

Marsha set out the containers from the deli.  "Seth
Hallaran?  How?  Where?  Do you realize the kinds of cases he's won?  That
write-up in the newspaper gave a list.  What am I going to do with that kind of
power behind Brad?  My lawyer's good, but, Darcy, I'm scared."

Marsha didn't want her questions answered, she wanted
reassurance.  "No one could be a better mother than you are. Stop
worrying.  Brad doesn't have a leg to stand on.  That's what I told Mr.
Hallaran."

"You talked to him about Jenna?"

"Not exactly.  But I did get the impression he doesn't
know Brad yet."  She'd also gotten the impression this move to Hershey
hadn't been easy for him.  There'd been tension around his eyes and mouth.  Of
course, that could have been from the situation that had brought him to her. 
But she didn't think so.

Darcy was amazed how easy it was to conjure up his face, his
body, the heat that had flashed through her when she'd looked into his eyes or
he'd moved close.  She took one of the paper cups from the stack and opened a
liter of soda.  Her mouth was suddenly dry.

Popping off the lid on the tub of macaroni salad, Marsha
said, "Lawyers don't care if they know their clients.  They want to win. 
Period.  Seth Hallaran's track record shows he's good at it."

Darcy pushed the disturbing lawyer out of her mind to
concentrate on her friend.  "You have to stop worrying or it will affect
Jenna.  If Brad comes to his senses, he won't sue for custody.  Can't you talk
to him?"