The Friends We Keep. Susan Mallery
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hit the lock button on the key fob before dashing toward the park.
She wanted to say it wasn’t her fault. Her class at the senior center had gone long because she’d been having a good time. There was something so sweet and life-affirming about watching a bunch of seniors dancing together. Especially the couples who had been married sixty and seventy years. Their bones might be frail, but their love was strong. She’d gotten caught up in the lesson and watching them and had totally forgotten that she had to be at the park to collect Jairus Sterenberg and bring him to Tyler’s camp.
A psychologist would probably have a field day with her convenient memory lapse. He or she might point out that there was something very passive-aggressive about the whole situation and later, Nicole promised herself, she would have a good, long think about it. But until then, she was going to simply run as fast as she could, considering she was wearing three-inch heels and a purple tango dress with a very short skirt.
The irony of her running to meet the author of Brad the Dragon did not escape her. Nor was she unamused by the fact that she was the parent liaison. Yes, Tyler had begged, but she knew it was more than that. Life had a sense of humor. She was constantly reminded of that fact. Which meant she was frantically searching for a town car—God forbid the man actually drive himself—and the man who would step out of it.
She spotted the black vehicle pull up to the curb and hurried toward it. The back door opened and a guy got out. Nicole slowed to a walk, then came to a stop altogether.
She waited, knowing someone else had to get out of the car. The guy standing there couldn’t possibly be the evil, nefarious money counter she knew he must be.
He was of average height—maybe five-ten or five-eleven—with dark hair and eyes, high cheekbones and sculpted jaw. His skin was a light café-au-lait color. He wasn’t traditionally handsome, but she had to admit she liked the look of him. Adding to the appeal were broad shoulders and narrow hips.
She blinked, not sure which surprised her more. The sexy package or the lack of black cape and horns.
No, she told herself. This was the manager. He’d come to explain why jerk-off couldn’t make it. He had to be.
She walked over. “Mr. Sterenberg? I’m Nicole and I’m—”
He looked at her, blinked twice, then held up his hands in the shape of a T. “Crap. No way. I can’t believe it. They sent you? Here? Now?”
WTF? Nicole’s warm, fuzzy, girlie feelings faded as quickly as they’d appeared. “Excuse me?”
“Look, this is really bad timing. I’m sure you’re terrific and all.” He glanced away, then returned his attention to her. He actually took a step back. “My friends are great. Assholes, but great. I can’t figure out if this is a joke or what but I’ll take it up with them later. But I have a thing I need to get to.”
He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “I can pay you. You want the money, right? Or if they paid you already, I’ll tip you, but you have to go away.”
Words all spoken in English, yet they made absolutely no sense to her. Nada. What on earth was he—
“Oh my God, you think I’m a hooker?”
He stared at her, his eyes widening. Several twenties dangled from his fingers. “You’re not?”
“No. I’m the mom sent to escort you to the event back at the camp.”
His mouth moved, but no words came out. “Y-you can’t be. Look at how you’re dressed. This is not my fault. I saw a couple of my buddies over the weekend. I was bitching, ah, complaining about a long dry spell. They joked about fixing me up with someone. When I saw you—” He waved his hand up and down in front of her. “Look at how you’re dressed. This is not my fault.”
“You already said that.” Nicole raised her chin and squared her shoulders. “I was substitute teaching dance at a senior center,” she told him, using the haughtiest tone she could muster. “Helping a friend who’s on vacation with her family. She likes to dress in a costume because it helps. Today was tango day.”
His gaze dropped to the fairly spectacular amount of cleavage she was showing. No way she was going to tell him that it was mostly fake. Her somewhat meager assets were being pushed up by the wardrobe equivalent of chicken cutlets.
“Costume?” The word came out as a yelp.
“Costume,” she repeated slowly. “Do you know how insulting this is? I have a six-year-old son who worships you.” She dismissed him with a flick of her wrist. “Okay, not you but Brad the Dragon. He wrote and rewrote his essay. He didn’t play, barely ate. Because of your books. Do you know how many forms your stupid contest requires? I filled out every one of them. I took time off work to be here. I left senior citizens to be here and you think I’m a hooker?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Like I believe that. I knew you’d be a jerk, but I never expected...” She sucked in a breath. “Fine. Let me show you where you’re supposed to go.” If only it were hell, she thought grimly. She would love to show him that.
“And you’d better be nice to the kids. All of them. Especially mine.”
“You’re mad.”
She started walking toward the camp area of the park. “Wow. A rocket scientist. You’re wasting yourself on kids’ books.”
He kept up with her easily, but then he wasn’t wearing heels. “It was an honest mistake.”
“Prostitution is illegal. I’m not even dressed that sexy. It wasn’t honest. It was sick. What kind of a man assumes a woman is a hooker?” She swung around to face him. “It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. In a park. Did you think I was just going to blow you in your car?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t think that part through. And, no, I don’t assume every woman is a hooker.”
“Just me?”
He winced. “I’m sorry. Really sorry. But you have to admit, you’re dressed provocatively.”
“No, I don’t.” She glared at him. “You’re saying I look like a slut?”
“I’m saying you’re all that.”
Under any other circumstances, she would have found him interesting. And maybe charming. But not like this. Not when he was that hideous author. She started walking again.
He slipped the money back in his wallet. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“You should be.”
“You really don’t like me.”
She barely glanced at him.
They went along the tree-lined path, toward the main camp building. Normally the kids were outside, but for this event, they were kept contained.
“Why did you assume I would be a jerk?” he asked.
“We are not having this conversation. I’m taking you where you need to go and nothing more. No. Wait. I’ll be taking pictures of you with Tyler and you will pretend this is the best time of your life.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“This is really important to him.”
“I got that.”
They reached the main camp building. She opened the side door before he could and stomped inside, then pointed. “Room five. Act happy. I’ve got mace in my bag.”
Jairus nodded once and reached for the door handle. He turned back to her, but she only continued to glower and point. When he went inside, she crept close and watched through the window.
The kids screamed loud enough to shake the building. She spotted Tyler standing in front of everyone, his eyes wide, his whole body shaking with excitement. Jairus approached him and said