Someone Like You
Page 7

“You can stop worrying about me, Wilma. I have everything under control.”
“That’s what those lemmings always say right before they jump off the cliff.”
“I HEARD ABOUT what happened with Lyle,” Rudy Casaccio said in his low, smooth voice. “I can arrange to have him taken care of for you.”
Jill winced, then switched the phone to her other ear. “I know you didn’t mean that the way it sounded and if you did, I don’t want to know.”
“You’ve provided excellent service to our organization, Jill. We believe in rewarding that.”
“You send a fruit basket at Christmas. That’s more than enough. As for Lyle, I’m going to handle him my self.”
“How?”
“I haven’t exactly worked that out yet, but I’ll come up with a plan.” She glanced at the résumés spitting out of her printer. “Maybe I’ll go with that old standard of living well as being the best revenge.”
“Are you staying in Los Lobos?”
“No. I’ll let you know as soon as I land with another firm.”
“Good. In the meantime, we want you to continue to handle our business.”
Real corporate law, she thought wistfully. Wouldn’t that be fun? “You need to stay where you are right now,” she said regretfully. “I don’t have the resources to handle your concerns.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, but it was sweet of you to offer.”
Rudy chuckled. “Not many people call me sweet.”
She could imagine. Rudy was one tough businessman, but he’d always been good to her.
“Are you sure about Lyle?” he asked. “I never liked him.”
“I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t have, either. Thanks, but don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
“If you change your mind…”
“I won’t. I’ll call when I’m with a new firm.”
“You do that, Jill.”
Rudy said goodbye and hung up. Jill did the same. She allowed herself exactly two minutes of pouting over what Lyle had cost her, then went over to check the printer.
Her résumés looked great, and the content was even more impressive. Rudy was a man of his word, so she knew she could bring him over to whatever law firm hired her. The senior partners would appreciate the extra three million a year in billings.
A knock on her closed door made her turn. It couldn’t be Tina—for one thing, the woman never knocked. For another, she’d disappeared shortly before noon.
“Come in,” she called, then caught her breath when Mac strolled into her taxidermy aquarium.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Great.”
The single word was all she could manage. Man oh man did he clean up good, she thought as she took in the dark tan uniform that emphasized broad shoulders and narrow hips. She had the sudden urge to throw herself on her desk and pretend to be a music video slut.
“Nice,” he said as he glanced around the office. “I don’t think I’ve been in here before.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It’s hardly the sort of place you’d forget. Welcome to fish central. If you see one you like, let me know. I’m thinking of having a yard sale.”
Not that she would, really. The fish belonged to Mrs. Dixon and, until Jill talked the widow into reclaiming her property, she was stuck.
Mac turned in a slow circle, then slowly shook his head. “Generous offer, but no thanks.”
“Figures. I bet I couldn’t even give them away. Are you here officially? Should I ask you to sit down?”
“Do I only get to sit under certain circumstances?”
She laughed. “Of course not.” She circled around her desk and waved at the leather visitor chair. “Be careful not to get caught in the net there.”
“Thanks.”
He sat and looked at her. Jill felt his gaze settle on her face with a connection so intense it was nearly physical. She wanted to ask him if he saw anything he liked. She wanted to lean closer so he could replace his gaze with his fingers. She wanted to know if he thought she was beautiful and sexy and irresistible. She settled on checking to make sure her hair was in place.
“It’s straight,” he said, motioning to her head.
“Thanks to the miracles of modern hair-care pro ducts, yes.”
“It looks nice, but I like it curly better.”
A piece of information she would file away for later. “I’m going to guess that’s not why you’re here.”
“Nope, I’m here to give a friendly warning. Slick Sam was arrested for passing bad checks. He got out earlier today and may come looking for representation. You probably want to tell him no.”
Her back stiffened. “Why is that? Do you think I couldn’t handle a criminal case? I assure you I’m more than capable of defending my clients against any number of charges. Furthermore, I don’t appreciate you judging me. You don’t know one thing about my legal experience. For all you know I could have—”
One eyebrow rose as he leaned back in his chair.
“What?” she demanded.
“Go on. You’re doing all the talking.”
“I…” She pressed her lips together. Okay, maybe she’d overreacted. She cleared her throat and straightened the papers on her desk.
“So why did you want to warn me about Slick Sam?”
Mac grinned. “I thought you’d never ask. The last lawyer he hired, also a woman and also very attractive, ended up letting him move in with her, where he made the moves on her teenage daughter, trashed her house, then took off with her cash, her credit cards and her car.”
Mac thought she was attractive? How attractive? Could she ask?
Not in this life, she told herself, then laughed. “I appreciate the advice and I’ll be sure to be out when he calls. But I have to tell you, I’m tempted by a client willing to steal my car.”
CHAPTER FOUR
JILL ARRIVED home shortly after five. As she was used to working until at least eight or nine every night she wasn’t cooking for Lyle, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with an entire evening. What did people who worked regular hours do with their lives? Was this why they had hobbies? Would she like a hobby?
“How was your day?” Bev asked as Jill walked through the front door. “Any dents on Lyle’s car?”
“I didn’t go by and check. I thought I’d do that in the morning.”
She set her briefcase by the coatrack and wondered why she’d bothered to carry it home. There wasn’t any work inside.
She leaned forward and kissed her aunt’s cheek. “I have high hopes, though. A nice high fly to the side door would make my heart beat with joy.”
Her aunt smiled. “I’m so happy for you, dear. How was work?”
Jill thought of Tina, the fish, and the hundred-year-old fence dispute. “You don’t want to know.”
“That bad?”
“Technically, there’s very little I can complain about, so I won’t.”
“Dinner will be ready in half an hour. You have time to change.”
Jill hugged the woman who had always been there for her. “I love you taking care of me, but I didn’t come here to invade your life. I’m going to start looking for a place of my own tomorrow.”
Bev shook her head so hard, her long red hair flew back and forth like a flag in the breeze. “Don’t you dare. I know you’re not moving back to Los Lobos permanently, but I want to be with you for the time you’re here.”
“Are you sure? I’m not crimping your social life?”
Bev rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You know I don’t date. I have to worry about the gift.”
Ah, yes. The gift. Bev’s psychic connection with the universe that allowed her to see the future. As her aunt had explained many times, the gift came with responsibilities—one of which was to stay pure…sexually.
“Don’t you ever get tired of being alone?” Jill asked, because whether or not she believed in her aunt’s gift, for the most part Bev lived as if she believed it. There had been very few men in her life and no long-term relationships.
Bev smiled. “I’ve been rewarded for my sacrifice. Over the years I’ve helped many people and that’s a great feeling.”
“Sex can be a great feeling, too.” She thought about her own pathetic sex life with Lyle. “Or so I’ve heard.”
“We make choices in our world. Staying pure for the gift was mine.”
Jill raised her eyebrows. “You mean semi-pure,” she teased.
“Well, there were one or two occasions when things got a little out of hand, but as they weren’t my fault, they didn’t count.”
Jill grinned. “I like your rules. I always have.”
“Good. Now go get changed before dinner. Oh, Gracie phoned about an hour ago. I gave her the number at the law office. Did she catch you before you left?”
“No,” Jill said, disappointed to have missed the call. “I’ll try her right now.”
She hurried up the stairs and into the airy guest bed room she’d claimed as her own. After peeling off her suit and pulling on shorts and a T-shirt, she flopped onto the bed and grabbed the phone.
Thirty seconds later she heard Gracie’s answering machine and left a message. When she hung up, she closed her eyes for a second, wishing her friend had been home and they could have talked. She needed to connect. So much had changed in such a short period of time, it seemed as if her world had started spinning out of control. Gracie had a way of keeping things in perspective.
“Tomorrow,” Jill whispered to herself and headed downstairs.
She found her aunt in the kitchen, fixing a salad. “Let me help,” she said as she moved to the sink to wash her hands. “I smell lasagna, which means you worked hard this afternoon.”
“Gracie not home?”
“No. We’ll talk tomorrow. So what happened today with Emily? What’s she like?”
“A sweet girl. A little unnerved by all the changes in her life.”
Jill dried her hands on a dish towel, then crossed to the island and picked up a cucumber and a knife. “Mac’s worried about them bonding.”
Bev nodded. “She’s been living with her mother for the past couple of months, so being with her father is strange.” She sighed. “There’s so much pain inside of her. I can feel it. She dresses monochromatically. Today was all purple. Shirt, shorts, socks, everything. And she’ll only eat the color she wears.”
Jill stared at her. “What?”
“I know. It’s a silly way to express her pain, but she’s eight. How many choices does she have? Mac wasn’t happy when he explained the problem to me, but I didn’t mind. It made making lunch much more interesting.”
“What did you do?”
Bev’s green eyes twinkled. “I cheated. I had some beef stew in the freezer, which I defrosted for lunch. While she was setting the table, I mixed a little of the liquid with beet juice and put it in a white bowl. Of course it looked completely purple. Then I asked Emily if the color was all right. She said it was. I served lunch in colored bowls so she couldn’t tell it wasn’t purple. We agreed that bread was neutral, so that was good. Oh, and we made sugar cookies with purple icing.”
“Smooth move.” Jill sliced the cucumber. “Aside from the color thing, what was she like?”
“Friendly. A little sad and confused, but good-hearted. Smart, too. We read some this afternoon and she’s a couple of grades ahead.”
Jill dumped the cucumber into the salad bowl. “You didn’t do her cards or anything, did you?”