His Mother's Wedding. Judy Duarte
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“You’re not writing that down, are you?”
“Humor me.”
“You’re not going to have one of your investigators dig into his background, are you?”
“Of course not.” Rico wasn’t about to pass this job on to anyone else.
She spelled out the name.
“Is that German?”
“On his father’s side.”
“So where did you meet him?”
“I found a coupon in the Dollarsaver offering a free dental exam and X-rays to new patients at his office in Westlake, so I called and made an appointment. I know you don’t believe in this sort of thing, but it was love at first sight.”
In a dental chair? How romantic.
Open your mouth and say “aah.”
Aah…ooh, baby.
“Nope, I’m a skeptic when it comes to stuff like that, Mom. But I’m glad you’re happy.” He just hoped she’d stay that way.
As an adolescent, he’d pinned his hopes on each man she’d brought into their lives. And after weathering each disappointment, he’d become tough and callused when it came to buying into the fairy tale of love. But he’d managed to survive, to become strong.
His mom, on the other hand, had been a slow learner. And he was afraid that one more failed marriage, either through death, divorce or abandonment, would do her in rather than toughen her up.
“Daniel and I would like to take you out to dinner this weekend,” she said.
Garcia and Associates, with offices in New York, Chicago and L.A., hadn’t become a booming company without its owner working long, hard hours and pouring his blood, sweat and tears into the place. Rico couldn’t just take off on a personal jaunt for the hell of it.
Okay, due to the agency’s success, that wasn’t entirely true anymore.
“I don’t know if I can get away,” he lied, hoping that if he dragged his feet, her budding romance would blow over before he had to meet the guy.
“Oh, come on, honey. You put in too many hours as it is. Besides, you’ve hired some new investigators, like that man you call Cowboy. So surely you can drive up here for a day.”
He glanced at his calendar. Once he gave Suzette a call, he’d have some free time this weekend. “All right. I’ll come down on Saturday afternoon. We can have dinner, I’ll meet your dental soul mate, then I’ll head back to the city.”
“You can also stay the night in my spare room. I’ll make homemade biscuits and sausage gravy in the morning.”
“Nothing like twisting my arm. The last woman I was seeing tried to get me on a health kick—tofu, wheat germ and a bunch of other crap—so I’m ready to bolt.”
“You’re between ladies right now?”
Warning bells went off. There was no way he wanted his mother fixing him up with anyone. No way. She thought the perfect woman for him was someone a lot like herself, someone with her head in the clouds and her eye on true love forever.
And for some dumb reason, she couldn’t get it in her mind that he’d quit believing in pipe dreams like marriage a long time ago. And not just because of his mother’s marital history.
He had a friend, Mac McGuire, whose wife had tried to force him to give up being a cop, who’d tried to make him move to the suburbs and trade in his police cruiser for a minivan. They’d even had a kid together, which had only made things worse.
And then fate, as it was prone to do, threw Mac a nasty curve. He and his wife divorced, his son was later killed in a traffic accident and the resulting grief led to some heavy drinking, a misconduct charge at work….
Nope, he wouldn’t set himself up for something like that.
“Listen,” he told his mom. “I’m not looking for a date, if that’s what you’ve got on your mind. But I’ll come up and have dinner with you on Saturday. And if the biscuits-and-gravy deal is still on, I’ll spend the night.”
“I’m so glad. And by the way…”
Uh-oh. Rico instinctively braced himself.
“I have a good friend who needs a private investigator. And I thought…”
“You thought that I’d do it as a favor to you.”
“You’ll help her, won’t you?”
Oh, he’d grumble a bit. But he’d do it, as he always did. His mother seemed to gravitate toward people who needed his services. And those “good friends” always expected him to investigate something or other as a courtesy. Shoot, the last one just wanted some genealogical information for a cross-stitch of her family tree, something she could have easily found online.
But what the hell.
Rico loved his mom—big old heart, rose-colored glasses and all. “What’s the trouble this time?”
“My friend is trying to locate a younger sister she hasn’t seen since they were children. It would mean so much to her. And to me.”
“All right. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good. I’ll have her at my house on Saturday afternoon. Maybe she can join us for dinner.”
Well, at least his mom wasn’t trying to set him up with anyone.
When they said their goodbyes, Rico hung up the telephone, then resumed his search for Suzette’s number.
If there was anything that made him even more determined to avoid commitments, it was a chat with his mother—God bless her sweet, ever-trusting heart.
Molly Townsend had never met a woman more like herself. Even the fact that Colette Garcia was old enough to be her mother hadn’t stopped them from becoming good friends in a matter of weeks.
As Molly sat on the sofa in the small but cozy living room of the older woman’s home, Colette poured them each a cup of tea from a delicate hand-painted china pot.
At five foot six and in her early fifties, Colette was a stylish and attractive woman, with dyed red hair, expressive blue eyes and an optimistic heart of gold.
“You know,” Colette said, “I’m sure that Rico will love Daniel once he gets to know him. But having them meet for the first time has me a little nervous and on edge. Rico is so protective of me. Too much so, actually.”
“I’m sure everything will go beautifully.” Molly took the ivory-colored cup and saucer, noting the delicate lilac and green-leaf trim.
“You’re probably right, but I’m glad you’ll be going to dinner with us. I don’t think Rico is too excited about me having a wedding, even though he agreed to pay for it. And I’m hoping you can explain to him how much this means to me. I’ve been married four times, but I’ve never been in love—not this deeply. Daniel and I are both making a lifetime commitment to each other and we want to do it right.”
“I’ll do whatever I can.”
As a wedding consultant at Betty’s Bridal Boutique, Molly had run into more than one perplexed father of the bride who didn’t understand the emotional and symbolic importance of a wedding. Of course, she’d never had to deal with the son of a bride before.
“You know, Rico should be here anytime.” The older woman glanced at her gold wristwatch, then grinned. “I’m so glad you’re going to get a chance to meet him.”
So was Molly. When Colette had first mentioned her son was the owner of a successful private investigative agency, she couldn’t believe her luck. For years she’d wanted to find her younger sister but hadn’t