Sunshine. Pat Warren

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Sunshine - Pat  Warren


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tone. “Tomorrow then, David. I appreciate your help.”

      “It’s my pleasure. See you then, Sunshine.”

      Sunshine. Talking with him had warmed her like a ray of sunshine. Hanging up, Janice shook her head to clear it. She would definitely need to get a grip on herself by tomorrow. Her emotions had been unstable since that fateful phone call about Kurt. That would explain why she was acting so peculiarly, thinking thoughts she’d long ago discarded.

      Quickly, she put the things David had requested on top of Kurt’s desk. Fumbling through several drawers, she scooped up a couple of folders, notes and address books she thought she might look through at home later. She grabbed her coat, purse and manila envelopes and went to find Tom Sikes to set up David’s visit.

      STANDING IN FRONT of her closet, Janice frowned as she stared at the clothes hanging there. Odd how it hadn’t occurred to her until recently that her wardrobe badly needed updating. Probably she hadn’t thought much about what she wore because she spent most of her time at home and she had plenty of around-the-house things. The past couple of weeks she’d been out and about more than in the previous six months. She’d lost weight since Kurt’s death, having no appetite and very little interest in cooking for only one. Next week, she’d definitely make it a point to get to Gates Department Store and look for a few good items of apparel.

      Ordinarily, she just grabbed something comfortable and put it on. But this wasn’t exactly an ordinary day. Tonight, David Markus was coming for dinner.

      Not that this was a date. It was a business meeting. But it was taking place in her home and she hadn’t spent an evening alone with a man other than Kurt in...well, not since her college days. She felt strange entertaining someone, even for a business meeting, without Kurt.

      Her meals lately had consisted of a quick salad or bowl of soup eaten at the kitchen sink or while reading a book. But not tonight. She’d planned a complete dinner and even set the dining room table with china and stemware, using a pale green Irish linen tablecloth her mother had left her. Not because she wanted to impress David, but rather because she wanted him to know she wasn’t just some backward hausfrau. She did know how to cook elegantly and serve beautifully, even if she didn’t understand the paperwork Kurt had left behind.

      Janice wasn’t sure why it was important to her that David not think her lacking talent and imagination, but it was.

      She’d also gone in to the Hair Affair this morning for that long overdue haircut. Glancing into the mirror of her dressing table, Janice had to admit that Tisha had done a good job. She’d opted for a shorter look and found that, with her hair’s natural tendency to curl, the feather cut flattered her.

      After that, she’d driven to nearby Belton, where she’d seen an ad for a place that made glasses in an hour. She’d had her eyes examined, then she’d tried on frames. The oversize frames she’d chosen made her oval face seem smaller, but at least she could read more easily now. That would be important tonight when David explained the company books and papers.

      But back to her skimpy wardrobe. After much deliberation, she decided on a soft yellow sweater and her brown wool skirt. Not exactly a knock-’em-dead outfit, but then this was her home, not some chic restaurant. Chic had never been her style anyway, Janice thought as she zipped up the skirt and slipped her feet into low-heeled, tan pumps. Chic was for young women on the make.

      Sitting down at her dressing table, she watched her face grow pink. Where had that thought come from? It wasn’t even an expression she used. Janice was widely read enough to realize that she was somewhat old-fashioned in her thoughts about sex. Hard not to be, having been raised by as strict a father as she and Irene had been. Janice knew that Stefanie, already sharing an apartment with her fiancé, probably had experimented far more than she ever had.

      Still, she missed the sexual side of loving and living with a man, Janice admitted to herself as she removed her glasses and leaned forward to apply a bit of eyeliner the way her daughter had taught her. Married love was comfortable if not wildly exciting. Exciting was for the young. She’d enjoyed sex with Kurt, but it hadn’t been the be-all and end-all of their relationship. They’d mellowed and taken a mature approach to lovemaking that had put it in proper perspective.

      Janice threw down the makeup pencil and closed her eyes with a sigh. Why was she thinking along these lines tonight? She had never been one to dwell on the physical aspects of her marriage.

      It was the prospect of seeing David Markus in a very short time.

      Gripping the edge of the dressing table, Janice stared at her reflection. She saw a middle-aged woman, a shade too slender, with nice hair and large gray eyes that looked haunted and hesitant. That about summed it up. A woman who’d recently buried a husband she’d loved very much. Still loved very much.

      Be that as it may, David was a very attractive man. A man who set a woman to thinking, even if she didn’t want to think along those lines. He wasn’t forward or bold or flirtatious. But he was enormously appealing and unconsciously sensual.

      He’d been alone for years and probably had scads of women after him—glamorous, cosmopolitan women. Fortunately, she wasn’t in the market for a man and therefore needn’t concern herself with the man-woman thing.

      Picking up her favorite cologne, she lightly sprayed her neck and arms and behind her ears, then applied a little lipstick. Stefanie was always telling her she ought to wear more makeup, but Janice didn’t feel comfortable with more.

      Standing, she examined herself one last time. Not gorgeous, but it was the best she could do for now. Who expected gorgeous at a business meeting anyhow? Grabbing her glasses, she went to check on dinner.

      * * *

      DAVID TURNED into the Eber driveway at five to seven and switched off his Lincoln’s engine. He sat for a moment looking at the large Victorian house painted a pale gray. The streetlights illuminated the patches of snow clinging to the front lawn. The dining room bay window with the wide seat faced the street on the drive side, and he caught a glimpse of the table through the sheer curtains.

      The house was beautifully decorated with expensive things, obviously done with a loving hand and a generous bank account. Kurt had often bragged to David about his home, his chest puffing with pride. David had wondered how his friend had managed to parlay a modest inheritance into a profitable business complete with an elegant home and expensive life-style. After having spent hours poring over Kurt’s books, he had a pretty good idea.

      Kurt had worked like a man driven, and David thought he had been. Driven to succeed, to impress his wife’s family, to prove he was worthy of the Ingallses’ approval. The signs were all there. Kurt also had had something to prove—that he was as good as an Ingalls. And he’d enjoyed the trappings of the good life—the big house, the snazzy car, membership in the right clubs.

      But success had come with a big price tag. He had spent years robbing Peter to pay Paul, mortgaging everything to the hilt, no sooner paying off one loan than getting in deeper with another. Apparently he’d kept most of the details from his wife, probably because to tell her would have made their future solvency look iffy, causing Janice to question him. However, the strain had undoubtedly added to the deterioration of his health, which he’d obviously been unaware of.

      Fortunately, Kurt hadn’t left Janice and his family in ruin, though he’d been headed in that direction. David knew Kurt had had plans—big plans—for one day being very wealthy. But he’d died too soon. And now, as David climbed out of his car, he wondered how much he should tell his widow without tarnishing the man’s memory.

      Taking an uneasy breath, he left his car, stepped onto the porch and rang the bell.

      Janice opened the door and smiled at his look of surprise. Self-consciously—for he was staring—she brushed her fingers through her hair. “I had it cut.”

      David moved


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