Bachelor No More. Victoria Pade
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“Or is it Jared you’re watching for instead of my tribunal? He told you he’d be here before them, didn’t he?” Celeste said with a note of intrigue in her voice.
“That was what he told me, yes,” Mara said matter-of-factly. “But no, I wasn’t watching for him.”
And that was a flat-out lie because watching for Jared Perry was exactly what Mara had been doing. Hating herself for it, but doing it anyway. Several times an hour, every hour since she’d answered the phone, she’d suffered more of that tingling sensation. Simply the sound of his deep voice and learning that he wanted to be here to offer his support to his grandmother during her questioning by authorities had done this to her. He’d told Mara that he would arrive before everyone else, but he’d given no indication how long before, leaving Mara guessing. And checking the alley at every sound to see if it was him.
But apparently even her disclaimer didn’t throw Celeste off the scent because as the older woman lowered herself into her chair, she said, “But after you heard he was coming you did go and change into those nice gray wool slacks that fit you so well and that baby-blue sweater that I always tell you sets off your eyes.”
“I only did that because I thought it was better to present a dignified front to the authorities,” Mara said, pulling the reason out of her hat when Celeste was right, she had had Jared Perry in mind when she’d changed clothes.
“Jared is a good catch,” Celeste said, ignoring Mara’s excuse.
“Nobody says things like good catch anymore,” Mara said with a laugh. “And I’m not angling to catch any man.”
“Maybe you should be.”
Mara didn’t want to offend the older woman or hurt Celeste’s feelings by going into the reasons why—even if she were in the market for a man—Jared Perry would not be that man, so she merely said, “I think what I should be doing right now is whatever I can to help get you out of trouble so we can both go back to work and do some dry cleaning to make a living.”
“Are you trying to tell me you didn’t notice how pretty my grandson is?”
“Pretty?”
“Well, he is.”
“I’m sure he’d love being called that.”
“But you have to admit it’s true.”
“He’s a nice-looking man, yes,” Mara conceded. “But he’s not my type.”
“The two of you would have such beautiful babies together.”
Mara laughed. “That’s quite a leap.”
“And then, instead of just being your favorite employee, you and I could really be family and I’d love that!”
“You’ve thought a lot about this in a very short time.”
“There were sparks between you last night,” Celeste said.
“Sparks? There weren’t any sparks.”
“Oh, there were. Small ones, but still sparks. Jared’s eyes kept wandering over to you when you weren’t looking, like he couldn’t resist. Then, when I was opening my bedroom window before I got into bed—you know I like it cracked to sleep—and there he was, standing on the landing after you’d let him out, staring at the door, smiling as big as you please. He wouldn’t have been doing that if he hadn’t liked you. And you wouldn’t have lit up when he called this morning and then changed clothes and gone to that window to look out a hundred times since if you didn’t like him, too. Sparks.”
“Don’t go imagining things,” Mara advised.
“I know what I saw.”
“Your grandson and I… There probably aren’t two less-suited people on the planet.”
“I don’t see that at all,” Celeste said emphatically.
“He’s not a small-town boy anymore—if he ever was. He’s a man of the world. A jet-setter. A wheeler-dealer. A mover and a shaker.”
He was also—by every account in the articles about him and according to talk around town, too—the way Celeste was said to have been in her youth. He was restless and in need of more stimulation, excitement and adventure than could be found in Northbridge. Not to mention that he’d spent his life breaking things apart rather than holding them together, and that was the last thing Mara would let anywhere near her.
But rather than get into things that might give Celeste the impression that she thought one iota less of her than she did, or that she held her youthful actions against her in any way, Mara only finished her argument with, “And I’m nothing but a small-town dry cleaner.”
“A beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted, generous small-town dry cleaner,” Celeste amended. “And he’d be lucky to have you.”
“He came because of you,” Mara reminded. “Nothing else has managed to get him back, because he doesn’t like it here. Or the kind of people he finds here.”
“He doesn’t like his grandfather—that’s what kept him away. Not hating Northbridge.”
Just then the phone rang at the same time as there was a knock on the door, making Mara jump.
“That will be the lawyer calling again, just as she said she would,” Celeste said with a nod at the phone, pushing herself to her feet once more. “And I’ll bet that’s our Jared at the door.”
Mara told herself that being startled by the unexpected knock on the door was the reason her heart was beating so fast, that it wasn’t because Celeste’s grandson had suddenly appeared on the landing outside.
“I’ll take the call in the other room. You let Jared in,” Celeste said as she headed for the bedroom again.
Reasonably certain that Jared Perry had seen her through the window beside the door, Mara couldn’t delay letting him inside in order to compose herself. So she pushed away from the sill and pivoted to the open door, trying to ignore her racing heartbeat.
It wasn’t easy when she looked into the now clean-shaven face that seemed even more eye-poppingly handsome than it had in the mental image that had inched its way into her consciousness a hundred or so times since the previous evening.
She was vaguely aware of exchanging greetings with him as she stepped aside to let him in. She devoured the sight of him in that same overcoat he’d had on the night before, open today to show dark-brown wool slacks and a dress shirt to match, worn buttoned all the way to his Adam’s apple. There was no denying that he looked spectacular, important and like a force to be reckoned with. All very un-Northbridge-ish.
“Is there a reason you don’t want to close the door?”
His voice brought her to her senses and made her realize that she was still standing there, holding the door open.
It also occurred to her that she hadn’t taken a breath in that same amount of time.
Taking one now, she shut the door as he removed his coat.
“Is there anywhere I can put this so it’s out of the way? I’m guessing this place is going to get pretty crowded.”
“I’ll take it,” Mara said, accepting the soft-as-a-cloud cashmere coat that had probably cost more than her entire wardrobe.
She took it into the hallway and carefully hung it on a hook on the wall. As she did she caught the faintest whiff of what smelled like fresh, clean citrus. It must have been his cologne, but if she could buy candles with that exact scent she would put them in every room of her house.
“Celeste is on the phone in the bedroom,” she said as she rejoined him. “She spoke to the attorney this morning, who said she was going to call back to go over things again just before the questioning got started, so I think