Playing By The Rules

Playing By The Rules
Beverly Bird


RULE#1: POSITIVELY NO FALLING IN LOVE ALLOWEDSam Case had a killer smile and a laid-back charm that had women swooning at his feet and crying their hearts out over his playboy ways. Suave on the outside, but vulnerable on the inside, Sam wanted out of the dating game.But as a single mom, I, Mandy Hillman, had given up on Mr. Right, until my smooth-talking neighbor, Sam, proposedsomething more than friendship. I agreed to his no-strings-attached affair, and my best friend became my lover. But then I ruined everything when I broke the rules and fell in love with Sam. Suddenly, anything less than happily-ever-after felt like losing.And I always play to win!









Let me get this straight.


Well do things together for a whileuncomplicated thingswhile we swear off dating until such time as one or both of us feels up to plunging back into the dating pool? I asked.

Yeah, he said, looking relieved. We could swear off chasing the opposite sex while we keep each other company. We could assuage all those male-female urges without the issue getting too complicated, he explained excitedly. So, what do you think?

Not so fast, I said. First, define uncomplicated.

I dont know. Dining, drinks, companionship. Sex.

He shoved the last part in quickly, and the air stopped somewhere midway in my chest.

Thats the whole point of this, he said when I didnt answer immediately. Without the sex, were right back to bashing our heads against the wall looking for the whole enchilada!

The more I thought about it the better it sounded.

This could be a mutually gratifying situation, he continued.

Okay, I said. I was breathing again, but just barely.

Then he smiled.

When do we start?


Dear Reader,

Make way for springas well as some room on your reading table for six new Special Edition novels! Our selection for this months READERS RINGSpecial Editions very own book clubis Playing by the Rules by Beverly Bird. In this innovative, edgy romance, a single mom who is sick and tired of the singles scene makes a deal with a handsome divorced herothat their relationship will not lead to commitment. But both hero and heroine soon find themselves breaking all those pesky rules and falling head over heels for each other!

Gina Wilkins delights her readers with The Family Plan, in which two ambitious lawyers find unexpected loveand a newfound familywith the help of a young orphaned girl. Reader favorite Nikki Benjamin delivers a poignant reunion romance, Loving Leah, about a compassionate nanny who restores hope to an embittered single dad and his fragile young daughter.

In Call of the West, the last in Myrna Temtes HEARTS OF WYOMING miniseries, a celebrity writer goes to Wyoming and finds the ranchand the manwith whom shed like to spend her life. Now she has to convince the cowboy to give up his ranchand his heart! In her new cross-line miniseries, THE MOM SQUAD, Marie Ferrarella debuts with A Billionaire and a Baby. Here, a scoop-hungryand pregnantreporter goes after a reclusive corporate raider, only to go into labor just as shes about to get the dirt! Ann Roth tickles our fancy with Reforming Cole, a sexy and emotional tale about a willful heroine who starts a mens etiquette school so that the macho opposite sex can learn how best to treat a lady. Against her better judgment, the teacher falls for the gorgeous bad boy of the class!

I hope you enjoy this months lineup and come back for another month of moving stories about life, love and family!

Best,

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor




Playing by the Rules

Beverly Bird





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




BEVERLY BIRD


has lived in several places in the United States, but she is currently back where her roots began on an island off the coast of New Jersey. Her time is devoted to her family and her writing. She is the author of numerous romance novels, both contemporary and historical. Beverly loves to hear from readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 350, Brigantine, NJ 08203.


Dear Reader,

I can honestly say that Playing by the Rules is my favorite of all my Silhouette books. It was an absolute kick to write this entirely from Mandys point of view and in her own words, and it offered the interesting challenge of portraying Sam only through Mandys eyes and his dialoguelike figuring out a man in real life! Ive often wondered if relationships might be easier if we went into them with our expectations and rules right up front, and Playing by the Rules was my chance to explore that idea and to take it to an extreme. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it.









Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen




Chapter One


The last time things were normal between Sam and me, we were fighting in Judge Larsons courtroom.

Were lawyers. At least, Im a lawyer. Sam Case is more like a world-class actor with a law degree. He lulls the opposition into a false sense of security by coming off as overly polite and just a little slow-witted. Hes transplanted from south Texas, land of drawling cowboys and good tequila, so he can get away with it. He cultivates an impression of bemused confusion at our East Coast aggression, and it always seems to work.

Judge Larson should have been wise to his tricks by now because hed been appearing before her for the better part of six months. But she was a pretty blonde on her third marriagehaving sacrificed her first two husbands in the interest of her career, or so rumor had itand Sam likes blondes. Ergo, Larson likes Sam. Its virtually impossible not to like Sam once he decides that youre on his list of favorite people.

The judge gave him a dopey smile. Its my firm opinion that no one ought to be allowed to simper while seated on the bench, but she did it, anyway.

You have a point to make, Counselor? she asked him.

Well, something sort of occurred to me, Your Honor. He swiveled on his heels to languidly look my way. Languid was part of the whole performance. I believe my adversarys chief argument is that a full-time mother is preferable to a half-time father. Is that about right, Ms. Hillman?

I stood. A full-time mother is preferable to a twenty-five-percent father. Thats my premise.

Hey, where did my other twenty-five percent go? He sounded genuinely injured.

I stepped around the defense table and moved closer to him, then I spoke in a hiss meant for his ears alone. My guess would be down your clients throat. I turned my attention back to the judge with a polite smile. Mr. Woodsen has a drinking problem, Your Honor. This has been established. Until he gets treatment, the children are better off with their mother as the custodial parent. Were willing to grant ample visitation, provided its supervised, but Mrs. Woodsen simply isnt comfortable with her children spending overnights with Mr. Woodsen when no other responsible adult is present.

No other responsible adult? Sam grabbed that one quickly. Your Honor, I do believe she just called my client responsible.

No, I did not.

Yes, you did.

I rolled over him before he could finish turning everything around on me, shoving a shoulder in front of him so I stood between him and the judge. Lyle Woodsen is anything but responsible, Judge. Theres every possibility that he wouldnt be coherent or capable during his parenting time.

Pshaw, I heard Sam say in an undertone.

I wheeled on him in disbelief. What?

His eyes widened innocently. I didnt say anything.

You said pshaw. Is that a Deep-South word or something?

I dont know, Sam protested. They sure dont say it in Texas.

People, please, Larson interrupted. This is a courtroom.

This time Sam stepped around me to speak earnestly to the judge. Mr. Woodsen isnt comfortable with his children spending unsupervised overnights with their mother, either. She has thathow can I put this delicately?rather complex sense of self.

A rather what? I felt tension wrap around my spine. Be more specific, I snarled, nudging him aside again so I could see the judge, too.

Its my understanding that Lisa Woodsen has spent a good part of the last several years undergoing vigorous psychiatric treatment, he said.

Drugs, I thought. It had to be drugs. Hed need something worse than Lyles alcoholism, and that would do it.

I went back to my table and sat again, feeling a headache coming on. I glared at him, trying to figure out what he had up his sleeve and why I hadnt been aware that there was anything there until just this moment. Sam crossed his arms over his chest and watched me right back. If he smirked, I would have to wipe the floor with his face, I decided.

I have no idea what hes talking about, Your Honor, I said finally. And, oh, how it rankled to have to admit it.

Judge Larson sighed gustily. Mr. Case, I like you. I genuinely do. Theres a revelation, I thought. But I dont like you well enough to overlook your generous use of evidentiary loopholes. Even in divorce court, we have such a thing as discovery.

Hallelujah.

Then Sam turned a soulful gaze on the judge. The man had blue eyes that could charm Satan, and a crooked smile that could melt that same black soul. Hed just broken the most basic court rule in the book, and I was pretty sure hed done it intentionally, yet he managed to look abashed and a bit confused. Gosh, Your Honor. Im sorry.

Gosh? I choked, andpredictablyLarson forgave him.

Very well, she said, but Im still going to adjourn these proceedings until Friday to give the defense a chance to catch up.

As slaps on the wrist went, it was relatively minor, but I consoled myself with the fact that at least it was something. The judge banged her gavel and rose neatly from the bench. I waited. It took Sam no more than a minute to clear his client out of the courtroom.

I shifted in my seat to look at Lisa Woodsen. So how right is he? I asked her.

A little.

I felt my headache pop behind my eyes, gaining life. This isnt one of those gray areas in life, Lisa. Either youve had psychiatric treatment or you havent.

Well, then, yes. I did. Do. But Im staying on my medication this time.

Medication. Oh, glory, I thought. Whats your problem exactly?

Its complicated.

I can probably grasp it, I assured her.

Itswell, a form of schizophrenia.

I folded my arms on the defense table and lowered my now-throbbing forehead against them. A complex sense of self, indeed! It wasnt drugs after all, but this was definitely worse than Lyle Woodsens nightly twelve-pack-and-shooters habit.

Lisa Woodsen began to cry, so I lifted my head and dug a tissue out of my briefcase. In family law, tissuesalong with candy, coloring books and trading cardsare crucial accessories. I raided my daughters supplies with some regularity. So far Chloe hadnt caught on.

I spent another five minutes comforting the woman before we left the courtroom. When shed passed through the heavy oak doors of the lobby into the blinding sunlight outsidefor some reason the sun always shines brightly on the rotten moments of my lifeI looked around for Sam.

I knew he would have waited for me, and he had. The sad truth was that he was my upstairs neighbor and my very best friendplatonically-speakingto boot. All in all, that made it very hard for me to hate him on any kind of regular basis.

He stood beside the water fountain, leaning one nicely broad shoulder against the wall there. I bore down on him.

You just talked your way right out of tonights linguine and scampi, pal, I said.

He straightened from the wall and his eyes went as soft and hopeful as a puppys. You were going to make me scampi?

No. I was going to make Chloe and me scampi. I was going to let you have the leftovers. But now Ive changed my mind.

Youre a hard woman, Amanda Hillman.

Only when Ive just been played for a fool.

I thought Lisa had told you. I thought you were just holding it close to your vest and hoping I didnt find out.

You were holding it close to your vest and hoping that I didnt find out. No wonder he hadnt wanted to bother with exchanging interrogatories, I thought. Hed said it would just run up the Woodsens respective bills, and we both knew the couple couldnt afford that. But the simple act of having my client answer all those detailed questions would have revealed all sorts of vermin in the woodpile.

I rubbed my forehead.

Another headache? Sam asked.

You gave it to me, I muttered.

Lisa Woodsen gave it to you. She should have confided in you. And I keep telling you that your forehead isnt the root of the problem. Its the way your neck gets all knotted up. Turn around.

I wanted to be obstinate, but it would have been a little like cutting off my nose to spite my face. Sam has hands to die for.

I turned and gave him my back. His strong fingers flexed at the base of my skull and found all the tight spots down the line of my vertebrae. My headache waned even as something coiled in the pit of my stomach. This was a normal reaction to Sams neck rubs that I had learned to ignore over the months. But this time I think I might have groaned aloud.

Better? he asked.

Much. Im still mad at you, though.

He laughed and his hands fell away. My loss. I turned to face him again.

His dark hair had fallen over his brow sometime during our long afternoon in court. Together with his just-slightly crooked, bad-boy grin, it gave him a rakish look. It was something else Id noticed before and that I tried to disregard. As a general rule, its not good to get all quivery inside over your bestplatonicfriend.

Our first priority should be those kids, I said finally, pulling myself back to business.

Agreed. So share your scampi with me and well talk about it over dinner.

No. I pivoted sharply and headed for the big oak doors and all that sunshine outside.

I have a date, anyway! he called after me.

I swung back to him. Thats two already this week, Sam. Youve got an obsession going on here. Want me to ask Lisa Woodsen for the name of her shrink?

Hey, Im busy looking for the wrong woman.

Which I knew he had found many, many times. More accurately, Sam didnt seem to want to find the right one. I put my back against the door and pushed it open.

Good luck, I called back to him. Maybe she can make you shrimp and linguine. I was all the way down the big stone steps outside before I shook my head and let myself laugh aloud.

Sam again? asked a voice from behind me.

I turned to find Grace Simkanian on my heels. Grace was also my neighbor. She lived one floor up from Sam in a one-bedroom unit she shared with Jenny Tower. They had to buddy-up to afford the place. Jenny was a waitress and Grace clerked for one of the criminal court judges. Law clerks are paid worse than volunteers, but they have very bright futures.

Sam again, I agreed. I matched Graces stride and we headed for the municipal lot. I always gave her a ride home when I was in court in the afternoon.

When are you two going to stop fighting and start clawing each others clothes off? she asked.

My stomach lurched hard and suddenly. Theres a ridiculous notion.

Ah. Clawing is beneath you.

That stopped me in my tracks. Grace headed on to my car without me.

I claw, I protested finally, shouting after her.

Grace stopped at the trunk of my Mitsubishi and looked back at me. When? Tell me the last time you even considered it.

I caught up with her and unlocked the trunk, and we tossed our briefcases inside. Let me think.

This will take a while.

The hell of it was, she was right. I was coming up empty. I hadnt had a date in six weeks and even then, Frank Ethanthe last guyhad definitely not been the clawing type.

Well, I said finally, I could claw if I wanted to. Then I frowned. Why are we even discussing this? I asked.

Because I think you should be clawing with Sam. Hes got the look of a man whod be good at it.

There was that action with my stomach again. I was starting not to like this conversation. Sam isnt interested in me that way. I wondered who he was seeing tonight, if it was the same voluptuous blonde from Monday.

Youre touching your hair again, Grace said. Whats that all about?

I dropped my hand fast. What?

Whenever you talk about him, you touch your hair.

I do not. Then I thought about it. As Ive mentioned, Sam has a strong preference for blondes. Specifically, he likes blondes with a lot of hair. Mine is short and black. I have that kind of face, with small features. Anything more would overpower me. I have that kind of life. Im a single parent. I dont have time to fuss with voluminous layers.

My headache chose that moment to come back with an extra punch. If youre that impressed with Sam, then why dont you claw with him? I asked her.

Grace shrugged. I scare him. Shes sleek, sophisticated and sharp as a tack. She says whats on her mind and she makes no apologies for it. Shes a stunning woman with reams of dark hair, a flawless dusky complexion, and the kind of figure that stops men dead in their tracks. Then they get to her mind, and that usually backs them off. At least it does if they have any sense.

He tried to snuggle up to Jenny once, though, Grace said.

I frowned. This was the first Id heard of it. Jenny is a sunny blonde transplanted from Kansas.

What happened? I asked.

Nothing. He scares her.

I nodded, understanding that, too. Jenny is waiting for Mr. Right. The last time I checked, her list of prerequisites had not included good-hearted wolves like Sam.

I opened my car door. I want to go home now. Ive had a long day.

Lets go to McGlincheys, instead, Grace suggested. Jenny worked at the bar there and would be getting off at five-thirty.

I looked at my watch and decided that I really didnt want to cook shrimp for two tonight after all. I took my cell phone out of my purse. If Mrs. Casamento can keep Chloe an extra hour, then Ill go.

Grace settled into the passenger seat. Grace doesnt sit, she settles. Its a kind of gentle floating-down with her. Men tend to be very appreciative of the phenomenon.

I made the call to the baby-sitter as I got in the car with a little less finesse. Sylvie Casamento keeps me on a short leash even as she laps up the money I pay her. Sam says its her express purpose in life to ensure that no one she knows enjoys anything. No one except Sam, that is. Most women adore Sam, and Mrs. C. is no exception.

I got the okay from the baby-sitter, but not without a lot of aggrieved and chastening sighs over the fact that I mightheaven forbidhave a good time. I started the car. When I turned out of the parking lot, Sam was just stepping into the street. I stomped on the gas to pass him before I was tempted to run him over.

McGlincheys was mobbed, as it usually is at that hour. The bar was crammed with enough bodies to rival a New York subway at rush hour. I was still trying to explain my feelings about clawing to Grace as we squeezed past a knot of people in animated conversation. They, too, were lawyers.

Philadelphias legal community is incestuous. Dont get me wrongwe all know how to draw lines in the dirt and keep to our own side of them. Favors are owed, calculated and warily exchanged, but that occurs during regular business hours. The rest of the time, its sort of a family affair. Many of us have, at some point in time, been married to a handful of the others. For example, Chloes father is an attorney here in the city, though I pride myself on the fact that I had the good sense not to go tying any knots with him. But the bottom line is that everyone seems to know everyone elses personal business, and they talk about it.

As I shoved my way through the crowd, I saw too many considering expressions on faces I recognized. Heres Mandy, those expressions said, and shes with a female friend again.

I never considered myself exempt from the storytelling, but I did think I knew what they said about me: Shes more interested in her career than in men. Chloes father started that one. His name is MillsonMillson Kramer III. If he were going to be honest, hed tell you that he was actually relieved when I refused to marry him. He was just doing the right thing by asking me in the first place. Right after Chloe was born, he suffered a hiccup of conscience and tried to make things neat and legal and tidy for all of us. I declined his offer, and that, of course, looked bad for him, so he saved face by informing Philadelphias legal community that he had tried his best but that I was a cold and brittle workaholic.

Im pretty sure that Frank Ethanthe last date Id had six weeks agocontributed to Mills version of Mandy Hillman when I declined to go out with him a second time. There have been a few others like Frank over the years whove failed to excite me, so no doubt theyve all tossed their two cents into the pot, as well. But Im not cold. I just like my own company. And your perspective on these things changes when you pass that milestone of turning thirty-five, which I had just done. You dont need to claw quite as much.

When youre in your twenties, youre just seized by all the possibilities, I tried to explain to Grace as we waded through McGlincheys clientele. For all her jaded world-wisdom, Grace is only twenty-six.

Someone nearly spilled a drink on her, and she curled a lip in the mans direction. He apologized profusely. What possibilities are those? she asked me.

Sexual. Life advancement. Societal compliance. We finally reached the bar. I had to raise my voice to order. Then we began trolling for a table, each of us armed with a glass of Chardonnay.

At McGlincheys, this is a game not unlike musical chairs. The trick is to be near a table when the inhabitants stand to go. It took us twenty minutes, but we managed it. Grace slipped into one of the vacated seats. Her stockings whispered as she crossed her legs. The noise level in McGlincheys was at full throttle, but every male within a six-foot radius heard the sound. Heads ratcheted in Graces direction.

That, I said, looking around at their faces, was the sexual part of it.

Grace shrugged. Its the Pavlov syndrome, an automatic response to stimuli. It means nothing.

I pursued my point. Anyway, when youre young, youre more inclined to settle into a relationship just because the sex is fantastic.

Thats a very good reason at any age, Mandy. Assuming one was the settling type.

Over thirty-five, youre less likely to be satisfied by the sex alone, I insisted, sipping wine. And youre less likely to hook up with someone for the express purpose of having children and raising a family. Most people take care of that issue in their twenties.

Not so much in this day and age. Women are having their children later and later in life.

I said most, not all. I held up a three fingers. Third, youre also not likely to settle down in your thirties just because it makes it easier to get a mortgage. Youve probably already done that, too.

You havent.

I live in Philadelphia. Real estate is ridiculously expensive.

So move out of the city.

I love the city. What number was I up to?

Four.

I nodded. Last but not least, youre also less likely to take a mate just because society is geared almost exclusively toward couples.

Thats the compliance part?

Yes. So you see, if you hook up with someone once you get past thirty-five, I think you do it for the purest of reasons. Compatibility. Comfort. Conversation. Then throw in a little lust for fun and games. The whole situation becomes easy and noncombative. You dont fall into a relationship for what the guy can give you, because youve probably already gotten it for yourself. You dont have the need to demand anymore. You can just accept.

Grace swallowed wine. Oh, joy. I can hardly wait. Does this come hand in hand with crows feet?

I ignored that. Its why I dont datemuch, I explained. And why I dont have an overriding need to claw.

Because youve already got a child, you dont want a mortgage and you dont care what people think anymore?

In a nutshell, yes. I can afford to be selective now, so I am.

Grace put her wineglass on the table and leaned forward. Mandy. You havent dated lately because you spend all your free time with Sam. Lets not lie to each other here.

My spine jerked straight, hard enough and suddenly enough to hurt a little. Thats not true.

Whats not? Jenny Tower asked, flopping into one of the chairs. By the way she shifted her weight in her seat, I knew she was toeing her shoes off under the table. She looked tired.

Mandy doesnt date because shes too busy hanging out with Sam, Grace said.

Its my choice! I was going to get that through to her if it killed me. I can afford to wait for compatibility, comfort and conversation because Im thirty-five!

Jenny took her apron off and laid it on her lap, pulling a wad of tips from the pocket. She started sorting the ones from the fives. I dont ever want to be that old.

Its better than dying young, Grace said, but barely. Then she grabbed the money from Jennys hand. Honey, youre not in Kansas anymore.

Jenny looked around the bar and blinked as though coming out of a dream. If theres anyone in the world more trusting than Jenny is, then it would have to be Toto himselfand even Toto had the good sense to bark at that goofy wizard. You think someones going to snatch it right out of my hand? she asked disbelievingly.

Grace took the hand in question and pressed the money back into it, folding Jennys fingers over it. Call me mercenary, but our rent is due in two weeks.

Jenny sighed and pushed the money into her jeans pocket. Okay. Ill count it later. Lets get back to why Mandy doesnt date.

I launched into my theory again. I havent met anyone recently who particularly inspires me, and I dont need all those other things I was mentioningthe mortgage and whatnotso I wont tolerate someone who doesnt inspire me.

Which brings us back to Sam, Grace said. She cut a look at Jenny. We were talking about clawing his clothes off, at which point Mandy went off into this business about relationships at a certain age. Compatibility. Comfort. Conversation. Wait, what was the other thing you mentioned? She glanced at me again and tapped a finger against her cheek exaggeratedly. Ah. Now I remember. Lust.

Lust is good, Jenny contributed. But I agree, the other things matter a whole lot, too.

You and Sam are compatible, Grace continued, still aiming her words at me. Youre comfortable with each other. The conversation between you is greatjust ask any of us whove ever tried to horn in on it. Therefore, according to everything you just told me, the progression is obvious. You two ought to be having sex.

I opened my mouth to argue and realized that I had just been boxed in by my own theory. Grace was going to make one hell of a lawyer when she finished clerking for the criminal court judge.

Then she sat up a little straighter and looked over my shoulder. I turned in my chair and followed her gaze and my pulse hiccuped.

Sam had just arrived. He was standing at the bar.




Chapter Two


Whos that with him? Jenny asked, leaning forward at our table to check out the situation.

My gaze hitched to Sams left. It was the woman hed taken out Monday night. Surpriseshe had a lot of hair and all of it was blond. I think he said she works for Fox, Murray and Myers, I said. Shes a receptionist.

She looks like a bimbo, Grace observed.

My gaze dropped to her not insignificant bosom. I dont think he wants her for her mind.

Then, as though my attention had drawn his, Sam looked around and saw us. He grinned at me and picked up his scotch-and-water from the bar. I knew it was scotch because that was pretty much all he ever drankGlenlivet specifically. With his glass in one hand and the blondes elbow in his other, he began steering her toward our table.

Jenny ogled them. Hes bringing her here? Hes bringing his date to sit with Mandy?

He probably wants my stamp of approval, I murmured.

You two are strange, Jenny said.

Were friends. Just friends. Why is that so hard for you people to wrap your minds around?

Grace watched them approach as well. His bimbo isnt happy, she decided.

I agreed. The blondes jaw seemed a little too set, her eyes too narrow.

Sam finished propelling her toward our table. He pulled out the last chair for her and snagged a seat from the next table for himself, then he placed it on the opposite side of the table from the bombshell.

This is Tammy, he said. He deposited his glass on the table and shifted his chair to face mine. I had a thought on our Woodsen stalemate. What we need to do is get them back together. Theyre shaky parents individually, but as a team they might be almost solid. Especially if we can convince Larson to appoint some kind of supervisor to look in on them from time to time. I think Lyle has a sister who lives something like two doors down.

I opened my mouth, shut it, then tried again. On the second effort, I found words. Where do you get these ideas? Were divorce lawyers, Sam. Were supposed to break people up. Its what we get paid for.

Ill kick in my fee if you do.

I cant kick mine in. I have partners to report to. I was being cranky. I was still stinging from what hed sprung on me in court.

Just give it some thought, he urged. We should try to save them for the kids sake. Besides, I believe strongly in the sanctity of marriage.

I snorted. Unless its your own.

I realized too late that his ex-marital status wasnt common knowledge. The look Jenny gave him was amazed. I could only imagine that having traipsed down the aisle once in his life lent Sam a little more potential in her eyes.

You were married? she asked quickly. I never knew that.

Sam cast me a wounded look. I left McAllen, Texas, after my divorce and came here. It was too painful to stay.

Jennys gaze went kind and misty. In a moment, I thought, she would begin stroking his hair and cooing things like poor baby.

Mandy decided that I was the one who ended the marriage, and Ive never disabused her of the notion, he went on.

It stung a little because I had assumed that.

Why? Jenny asked, looking between us. Why wouldnt you tell her the truth?

Because theres something emasculating about being tossed over for another man andworsebeing slow to recover from it.

You told me that, Tammy said suddenly. You told me you were divorced. The rest of us looked at her. I think wed forgotten she was there.

Which just goes to show, Grace murmured, that Sam doesnt mind appearing emasculated in your eyes.

Ouch, I thought. Like I said, Grace can be brutally honest.

I pulled the subject back to what I figured was safe territory. About the Woodsens, I said quickly. I dont think Lisa has hooked up with anyone new yet.

Lyle hasnt, either, Sam replied.

I thought about his suggestion. Hed be the hardest to convince. He was the one who filed for divorce in the first place.

Shes a paranoid schizophrenic. She woke up one morning and decided he was an extraterrestrial. It was making his life hell.

She didnt mention that. There was a lot Lisa hadnt bothered to tell me. Then it hit me. An extraterrestrial?

From Pluto. No mundane Martians for our girl.

Excuse me, Tammy tried to interrupt.

I laughed aloud. She told me that when he got drunk he would chase her around the house. Maybe that was what tipped her over into planetary delusions.

Sam perked up. Were they wearing clothes, do you think?

I had just sipped more wine and it backfired up my nasal passages. I coughed and he clapped me on the back.

If Lisa stays on her medication and Lyle forgoes a six-pack now and again, it could work, he insisted.

Between the two of them, one might be sane and sober for the kids at any given time, I agreed when I could finally talk again. The supervisor idea has some merit, but wed need to have random blood tests for the childrens sake, too. You know, test him for blood-alcohol content, and her to make sure shes still on her medication.

Ill sound him out on it in the morning, Sam said.

Ill do the same with Lisa. But Im not going to my partners about kicking in my fee.

Excuse me, Tammy said again.

Weve got trouble, Grace murmured and eased her chair back from the table a little. I barely glanced at her.

Are you going to be in court tomorrow? Sam asked me.

In the afternoon. Im arguing a motion at one-thirty.

So am I. Get there early and Ill buy you a hot dog from our favorite vendor.

The one with the spider monkey? His name was Julio, and he was the only one who had fried onions on his cart.

Its a chimpanzee, Sam corrected me.

No, its not Then I broke off because it happened.

I caught a quick movement out of the corner of my eye, a flick of Tammys wrist. Then something pale and pink floated over the table in a pretty arc. I reared back in my seat just in time to avoid it. Then her drink was in Sams face, dripping from his chin. He didnt look good in pink.

He came to his feet, sputtering. What the hell was that for?

You dont love me! Tammys voice went to screech volume. You cant even remember that Im sitting here at the same table with you!

Grace rose to her feet. Okay, thats my cue. Im going somewhere else.

Jenny just looked stupefied.

Who said I loved you? Sam looked at me a little wildly. For help, I knew.

Tammys face contorted until she managed to squeeze tears from her eyes. She was so youngI really hadnt caught that before. I actually felt a little sorry for her. Shed need a lot more seasoning before she was ready for the Sam Cases of the world.

I stood and reached for her. I was thinking that I should guide her away from the table, maybe to the ladies room, where she could calm down. Then I spotted Frank Ethan over her shoulder.

The evening was going to hell in a handbasket, I thought. I should have just listened to Sylvie Casamento and gone straight home to my daughter after court. I hadnt seen Frank since the night six weeks ago when Id discovered that he kissed like a fish. He didnt frequent McGlincheysbut he knew that I did. Which more or less equated to the certainty that he was here hoping to find me.

Sam recognized him. Hey, he said. Isnt that the corporate dude who used to stand outside our building and check his watch so hed knock on your door at the exact time he said hed pick you up?

Shut up. I spat the words just as Frank started toward me, his arms spread wide and his mouth puckered up fish-style. I caught Sams sleeve and backpedaled. Time to go.

He was trying to dry his face with a bar napkin. He threw it back onto the table. Sounds good to me.

We turned together and headed for the door. Or rather, Sam headed for the door. I walked into a wall of blue chambray and a snarl of chest hair at its opened collar.

Ms. Hillman? chest-hair asked.

Sometimes you just know something and theres no getting around it, even when youd prefer ignorance. Blue chambray or not, this guy was a sheriffs officer. Id met enough of them in ten years of practicing law to recognize one when I ran into his chest.

I tried to step around him. I knew he wasnt allowed to detain me, not for what he wanted to do. But he didnt have to. He slid the papers he was holding into the open side flap of my purse.

Service acquired.

Sam tried. Hed only been in Philadelphia for six months, but hed passed our Commonwealths bar exam with flying colors and he knew the ropes. He tried to knock the papers out of the guys hand before they landed. Sam was quick, but the deputy was quicker.

Sam swore once the damage was done and more or less dragged me out of the bar by my arm. I stopped on the sidewalk, pulling back against his grip, and I drew in a steadying breath.

Okay, okay, I said. Im all right now.

How can you be after that? he demanded.

If it makes you feel any better, then Im a puddle of Jell-O.

Jell-O is solid, he pointed out. It cant be a puddle.

Its not so solid that it doesnt jiggle.

He thought about that and finally gave me the point. What did he serve on you, anyway? Are you getting disbarred?

I choked at the mere thought. No.

How do you know without looking at the damned papers? He was more upset about this than I was, I realized.

Because the bar association sends their axes by certified mail in this state, I explained. At his startled lookone that asked how I knew thatI added, It happened to a guy in my office once.

Besides, I didnt have to look at the papers because I already knew what they were. Now that theyd finally turned up, I realized that I had pretty much been expecting them ever since Millson Kramer III had tossed his hat into the political arena a while ago. Id guessed then that Chloe and I would become his official campaign skeletons-in-the-closet.

To appreciate this, youd have to know Mill. Hes the proving ground for the fact that too much IQ is not necessarily a good thing. Hes clinically a genius and my daughter is a shining testament to that. Chloe grasps it allmath, science, concrete concepts and those of an airier, more abstract variety. Shes dazzling. Mill, on the other hand, tends to be so captivated by his own calculating thoughts that he has the charm and disposition of a wet dishrag. He is, however, very exacting, orderly and methodical. So Id known that Chloe and I were probably on his to-do list of things to clear up so he would become highly electable.

Wed been seeing each other on a comfortable basis for a little over a year when I got pregnant. I wasnt appalled when I found out about Chloe. Id always wanted a child, though this wasnt exactly the way Id envisioned it happening. I knew I would be swimming upstream by going ahead with parenthood on my own, but I was reasonably sure I was good for the challenge. And Mill provided an excellent gene pool, being intelligent, attractive, well-bred and, best of all, indifferent.

After I decided that I wanted the baby, I also realized that hooking up with Mill on a legal basis for the express purpose of her existence would be a mistake of monumental proportions. Regardless of the fact that I arrange divorces and negotiate custody disputes for a living, I strongly believe that marriage is supposed to be forever. And the comfortable pseudorelationship I had going with Mill was not the sort of thing forever is made of. In fact, when I realized that, I was a little ashamed of myself for letting it progress for as long as it had.

In the end, I trusted in the fact that Mill was so utterly self-absorbed, he wouldnt try to take the idea of parenthood too seriously. He wouldnt try to make our relationship more than it was because of the baby. I knew that if I declined his proposal of marriage and asked him to go away, hed go away. I was righthe did, with a few snide comments for casual observersuntil now.

Now he had decided to run for city council, and the whole business of Chloe would make him look less than stellar in the eyes of Philadelphias more conservative voters. I knew this was a custody suit even without taking the papers from my purse, and I was definitely not going to do that. Not yet. On top of Graces bizarre opinions about me having sex with Sam, and the Woodsen matter of schizophrenia, I was in no way planning to address the issue of my daughters parentage before morning.

I opened my mouth to tell Sam this, then McGlincheys door opened behind us. Sam tugged my keys from my hand. I tried to hold on to them as we started jogging toward the parking lot, but he twisted them free of my fingers, anyway.

I yanked on the passenger door once he had unlocked it. I dropped inside and looked over my shoulder. Whoever had come through the door after usif it had been either Tammy or Frankthey werent following us. And the deputy didnt have to. Hed already accomplished his dirty work.

Sam found the little button on the side of the drivers seat, and he moved the seat backward with ruthless intent. I could never get it into the right position again when he did that. He shot the key into the ignition, revved the engine and looped around onto Pine Street. We headed toward the outskirts of Society Hill. Mill lived in the district. Sam and I could only afford to come close.

Youre not very good at this, you know, I told him.

He angled a glance my way. At driving?

This is something else Ive learned from thirty-five years of living: never ever criticize a mans driving, no matter how bad it is. Its a testosterone thing. Actually, I meant dating. Keep your eyes on the road. I closed my own so I wouldnt have to note how fast we were going.

Im a great dater. This came out with predictable evidence of that same testosterone.

No, Sam, youre not. Practice does not always make perfect.

It strikes me that this is a little like the pot calling the kettle black.

I opened my eyes again. I hardly ever date! I protested.

That is my point. He swerved around a cab and we veered north onto Third Street.

Whats that supposed to mean? I straightened in my seat. Damned if the man couldnt get my ire up. Plus, hed managed to hit on a topic that Id already been under fire for through half the evening from Grace and Jenny.

It means that maybe if you did more of it, you might be in a position to judge my tactics, Sam said. It means that you might figure out that a guy who has an obsession about time is probably going to be a little anal retentive. And he just might be the type to come at you in a bar with his arms open wide, puckering up his mouth like some kind of overblown fish.

I was just outraged enough that I didnt know which comment to respond to first, but Id be damned if Id admit that Frank Ethan really did kiss like a fish. I happen to appreciate a sense of punctuality and responsibility, I said.

Yeah? What about that day you canceled all your appointments and played hooky so you could show me the Liberty Bell?

That was you. As soon as it was out, I considered biting my tongue off. Graces voice whispered nasty little observations in my head again.

Which meanswhat? Sam asked.

I wasnt going to answer that. I fail to see what this has to do with Frank, I said stiffly. Besides, theres no such thing as an overblown fish.

Yes, there is. There are those ones that puff up occasionally for some scientific reason I cant remember right now.

Like Tammys chest?

Leave her chest out of this.

Thats tough to do, Sam. Its soout there.

He took his eyes off the road again to glare at me. Whats wrong with you tonight?

Im fine. Grace was wrong with me, I thought, her and her absurd opinions about me and Sam.

Youre not fine, Sam said. Youre being caustic.

At least I dont tell people I love them on the first date. Or did you do it on the second? Wed reached the parking lot that I used and he drove my car into a space. The Mitsubishi rocked on its shock absorbers when he hit the breaks too hard. I tried not to wince.

I did not tell her that I loved her, he said.

Well, you must have done something to put the idea in her head. I got out and slammed the door. In the throes of passion, maybe?

I never even got around to passion with her!

My heart shifted a little. Damned if I cared. I grabbed my keys from his hand and started up the street toward our apartment building.

So what about that scampi? Sam asked, following me. Since were both home now and weve semi-resolved the Woodsen thing, we might as well eat together.

Bribe me and Ill consider it.

You want me to pucker up like a fish?

I turned and walked backward to face him. For the record, Frank kissed like alike a

Words fail you? he said when I couldnt quite continue.

Im trying to reach for the perfect superlative.

I hope you come up with it before my hearing starts to go.

There are just so many to choose from.

He reached around me and opened the outside door of our building. I pivoted back to face forward and we crossed the black-and-white marble vestibule to step into a fern-filled hallway. My apartment was on the first floor, his was one floor above mine.

Come on, Mandy. Feed me, he said. Ive got some wine I could contribute. I bought it because I was going to try to lure Tammy back here tonight.

Ah, leftovers. Sam, I am so flattered.

Id rather share it with you.

Everything inside me rolled over. Slowly, sweetly. It was purely Graces doing, of course. I had been absolutely fine when Id been hating Sam in Judge Larsons courtroom two hours ago.

Go get the wine, Sam, I said, a little tired of fighting off images of how he would claw. But I watched him move up the stairs with that slow, prowling way he had of moving, and I found myself thinking that on so many levels he seemed absurdly unaware of his own appeal. Either that or he took it for granted. I had never quite figured out which it was.

I went into my own apartment and closed the door behind me. The telephone was ringing. I jogged across the living room into the kitchen and grabbed it. It was Sylvie Casamento.

Its after six oclock, she said immediately. You said youd be home by six oclock.

I looked at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. It was two minutes past the hour. I had a wonderful time, I said. Thanks for asking.

Did that man find you?

Which one? The blue shirt, or the one with the fishy mouth? What difference did it make? Theyd both nailed me, but I wanted to know which one of them had come here looking for me first.

He was wearing blue, Mrs. Casamento said.

Then, yes. Thank you so much for your help. You can send Chloe down now.

Mrs. Casamento lived in my building on the second floor across from Sam. I went back to my apartment door and into the hall, and I collected my daughter.

I sent Chloe off to take a bath. Back in the kitchen I stared at my purse, at the papers stuffed into the side flap.

Over the years, from conversations at preschool, playgrounds, and PTA, I have come to the conclusion that single mothers share a near-psychotic obsession with being a good parent. Maybe this is because statistically we are expected to fail, to produce serial killers and assorted other prison inmates. Our children cannot possibly thrive in a broken home. To prove those statistics wrong, we obsess. And obsession can be exhausting. This is why, when your seven-year-old stares at you with guileless eyes and swears up-and-down on the life of her Barbie that she did her homework at the babysitters, sometimes you believe her. You do it because you want the hard part of your day to be over and done with. Youve earned your wage, youve paid the gas bill. If theres not food on the table, then at the very least its in the refrigerator waiting to be warmed up, or its in a takeout bag on the counter. So you take your childs word at face value until you begin to shoo her out the door the next morning and you realize that she fibbedjust a little. The homework is half-done. Youre late for court and shes late for school and theres no way to backtrack and fix this. Now her teacher is going to know the truth. You are actually a bad parent in sheeps clothing. Your child is doomed for the penitentiary.

This is why I ended up opening the papers right then, after all, instead of waiting for morning. Part of it was that I might be considered a bad parent for not reading them right away. The other part was that I really wanted the hard part of my day to be over, and I knew that wouldnt happen unless and until I knew exactly what Mill was up to.

Chloe was in the tub with the door open so I could hear if the splashing stoppedthat way Id know if she was drowning. I scanned the papers and they were pretty much what I had expected. Mill had decided that he wanted Chloe to live with him.

My heart did a dive. I read the papers again before I went to the phone and dialed Mills number. This is another thing about single parenthoodif a man fathers your child, it doesnt matter if you havent laid eyes on him since the moment of conception. You will never forget his phone number.

Have you lost your mind? I demanded as soon as Mill answered. You dont want this.

Amanda. Other than Sam, he was the only person in my life who ever dared to call me by my given name. I wondered briefly what the implications of that might be. One was the father of my child, and the other was mywell, my platonic friend.

This wasnt our deal, I grated finally, staring at the papers in my hand.

No, he agreed. But a father cant actually sign away his parental rights, can he?

He was right. A parent is a parent is a parent. Though I had a consent order with his signature on it wherein he solemnly swore never to intrude in Chloes life if I promised never to ask him for a dime of child support, Id always known that if he chose to get involved, that piece of paper wouldnt amount to a hill of beans.

The fact that he knew that, too, told me that he had been boning up on his family lawMill specializes in corporate and tax law. Either that, or the attorney he was using for this had informed him of the fact.

I was starting to feel sick.

I want my daughter, Mill said. I want a relationship with her.

Oh, the hell you do. It was knee-jerk, out before I could stop it.

There was silence. I took that as a good thing. Maybe he was thinking that I wasnt snowed. Or scared. Though, actually, I was a littlea lotof both.

Mandy, it just doesnt look good, he said finally.

I realized that he would probably be taping our conversation by nowits a neat lawyer trick. As long as words are spoken on a telephone linewhich is technically a public mediumtheyre legally up for grabs. So I took a new tack. Its the election thing, right? I asked. Mill, I understand. Okay, then. Ill marry you.

I was gratified by a gargling sound. I beg your pardon?

You asked me once, then you withdrew the offer. And I was so young and foolish at the time. Now Ive realized the error of my ways. Marry me, Mill. Please.

Chloe chose that moment to wander into the kitchen wrapped in her favorite, too-pink Barbie bathrobe. I tried to shoo her away but she wouldnt go. I had him, I knew I had him, but I couldnt push my advantage with her listening on.

I heard you were seeing someone, he said suddenly.

You did? I couldnt fathom how that rumor might have gotten started. Then, with his next words, I got it.

That lawyer who lives in your building, he clarified.

My heart stalled a little. Things always managed to come back around to Sam lately, didnt they? Im not seeing him, I said. Were just friends. This was starting to sound like a mantra, I thought.

That might have changed the whole complexion of this issue.

I almost laughed aloud. Mill would always bewell, Mill, I thought. No, he didnt want Chloe. He was just trying to find an easy way out of our seven-year-plus mess. If Chloe had another father figure in her life, then maybe he wouldnt have to do the job. He couldnt be publically chastised as much for not remaining a part of our lives.

In an odd way that made me sad.

I was about to say so when Sam came banging at the door. I wasnt sure why I didnt want him to hear me talking to Mill about this. Maybe because I didnt want him to know there was suddenly a major crusade afoot to push us together and the entire city of Philadelphia seemed to be in on it.

Ill get it, Mom! Chloe shouted. Then, a heartbeat later, Its Sam!

Ive got to go, I said quickly.

Mill overheard. Chloes voice can be like a siren when shes happy. Sam? he asked.

The pizza guy. I hung up the phone fast.

I have two bottles, Sam said, stepping into the kitchen. He held them both in one hand. In the other was his Glenlivet. That told me I could have the wine to myselfhe wouldnt be sharing it.

Was it going to take you that much to get Tammy into Then I broke off. Chloe was leaning against his right thigh, looking at me expectantly.

Get Tammy into what? she asked. Then she looked up at Sam. Whos Tammy?

Never mind, rug rat. But Sam knew where Id been headed with my comment. One was for before, he told me, and the other was for after. Im good. I dont need much help.

Funny thing about a womans body. It has a mind of its own. You can react even when your brain is utterly sane with the understanding that reacting is stupid. It happens viscerally. I imagined good with Sam and when something rolled over inside me this time, it wasnt in my gut. It was a lot lower than that. And after it rolled, it tightened up.

Damn Grace. I rubbed my forehead again.

Neck rub? he asked, noticing.

Just uncork the wine, Sam. And hurry.




Chapter Three


I blame Sams wine as much as I blame anything else for what happened next. By nine oclock, when Chloe was tucked into bed, my eyes were closed and my head was tilted back against the sofa cushions. My feet were propped on the coffee table. So were Sams. He was on the other end of the sofa.

You know what the problem is? he asked me suddenly.

I made the kind of noise in my throat that said I hadnt a clue what he was talking about, but that he should go on, anyway.

With dating, he clarified.

I opened one eye. Ah, that problem. Your way or mine? Excessively or rarely?

I dont date excessively. He sat up straight, indignantly. Saturday night comes every week. I just like to use it accordingly.

Sam, you date on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, too.

My point is that too much or too little of this dating business is equally frustrating.

He was staring down into his scotch glass now. His expression was serious. After a day filled with Graces observations and Mills custody petition, Sams suddenly pensive mood worried me.

You go out with a woman for the first time and she expects all these subtle little things to immediately click right into place, he continued. Talk about pressure.

As opposed to men, I asked, who dont give a damn about things clicking one way or the other?

He looked over at me and his face took on that offended look again. Thats not true. We give a damn.

Before or after you catch sight of the finish line?

Both.

I rolled my eyes to show my opinion of that. Continue. What little things?

Mental stimulation. Good conversation. Mental stability. Sexual attraction. Everything is supposed to happen all at once, and men are looking for that, too. I mean, some of us want it and some of us run like hell when its there, but its still an issue.

Suddenly, I was sure that Grace had repeated to him everything Id told her earlier about my own over-thirty-five theory, my three-Cs rule of thumbcompanionship, comfort and conversation. This was a little spooky.

Have you been talking to Grace? I demanded.

Sam looked around my living room as though expecting to find her there. Not since McGlincheys. Why?

What did she say to you?

He looked at me oddly. You were there. You heard the whole conversation. You were part of it.

You didnt talk to her privately?

When would I have done that?

I dont know.

Youre really acting strange tonight, he said.

I grabbed the wine bottle from the coffee table and topped off my glass. Having your daughters father sue you for custody can do that to a woman. Id filled him in on the problem after dinner when Chloe had gone to her room to watch television.

Sam waved a hand negligently. I told you Id handle that.

And I told you no thanks.

Youre too close to it to represent yourself.

And he was closer to it than he knew. I could only imagine Mills reaction if Samthe man I was reputedly seeingappeared with me in court. Get back to your point, I prodded him. You were philosophizing.

Sam slanted another look my way. Okay. The thing is, somebody is always waiting, wanting, hoping for all those little things to click into place and coincide.

The mental stimulation, the conversation and the animal attraction, I said to clarify.

I didnt say animal. Who said anything about animal?

I realized I had claws on my mind again. Well, thats what were all looking for, right?

His brows climbed his forehead. Are you?

I definitely wasnt going to get into that discussion again. We were talking about you, Sam.

All right. Fine. Well call it animal attraction. But it never happens, you know. Either you get the mental stimulation going, but then the animal business is missingor its there, but the woman turns out to be a Looney-Toon, emotionally unstable. Or she thinks youre great and you think shes about as interesting as a can of vegetables.

I got stuck on the emotionally unstable part. Like Tammy?

He didnt argue it. He just shrugged. Then youre left trying to wriggle free without hurting anyones feelings or wearing some pink drink, he said.

He was like that, I knew. He worried as much about hurting women as I did about bad parenthood. You looked ridiculous, by the way.

He didnt rise to the bait. He lifted his glass and swallowed the last of his scotch. I just get tired of it, Mandy. But its like some kind ofof addiction. We keep scrambling after it because we need that male-female thing going on in our lives. And the need makes us keep going out there, bashing our heads against walls, smashing ourselves all up, getting drinks tossed in our faces, just because we had the audacity to look for a partner whos on the same wavelength.

Wavelengths are shifty little things, I agreed.

He stood and went to the kitchen to retrieve his bottle of scotch. When he came back, he bent and picked up his shoes from my living room floor. Then he stood at the door, armed with all of it. On that note, Im going home, he said. Thanks for dinner.

Suddenly I felt an overriding need to set everything back to the way we had been in the courtroom that afternoon. I wanted to banish Graces insane observations and Mills innuendoes from the air. Maybe I just figured that by reminding us of what we were supposed to be, we would be able keep it so.

You know, its really great to have a male-type friend, I said. Its nice to talk like this, to get a masculine perspective.

Thats me, Sam said shortly. Male-type. Then he left. Quickly.

I frowned after him. I knew him well enough to understand that somehow or other, I had just hurt him. But how? Then my heart hit the wall of my chest. Did he not want to be just a male-type friend anymore?

I shook my head. This was Graces doing. Such a thought would never even have occurred to me five hours ago.

Or maybe it was the wine, I thought. Id had too much of it. I narrowed my eyes to focus them on the door he had just passed through. There was only one door there, so I was not drunk. Nope, I was fine.

Either way, now that I was alone, a million little demon thoughts came spewing out of the recesses of my mind to hoot and holler. Most of them wore little T-shirts labeled Sex and Sam. It came to me then that I probably wasnt going to be able to sleep until I knew why hed been insulted by what Id said. I got to my feet, still looking at the door. I put my wine down on the coffee table. The Sex and Sam goblins were jumping gleefully up and down by now, clapping their hands. A tiny, sane part of me told me to go to bed right now. So, of course, I listened to the demon-goblins.

I peeked into Chloes room. She was sound asleep. I tiptoed in, kissed her forehead, then I closed her door quietly behind me. I left my apartment and stood in the hall, looking at the stairs to the second floor.

If I came right out and asked him if he wanted to be more than just my male-type pal, I knew I was going to get my pride kicked hard. For one thing I wasnt his type physicallynot a blond hair in sight. For another, if hed had any romantic designs on me whatsoever, I figured he would have acted on them a long time ago. Wed known each other for nearly six months, and Sam is definitely not the reticent sort.

That realization made me sane again. I started to turn back into my own apartment, but then I saw his legs appear on the landing. The top part of him was chopped off by the next level of stairs.

Sam? I said, to be sure.

What are you doing down there? he demanded.

I was coming to your apartment.

No need. Im right here. So you can just stay where you are.

Talk about one of us acting odd. Okay.

Why were you coming to my apartment? he asked.

I dont know. I shrugged, though he couldnt see it. I was justthinking.

Thats a very dangerous thing to do at this hour.

I looked at my watch. Its only ten oclock.

Yeah, but that makes it something like three in the morning in parts of Europe.

Okay. So what are you doing on the stairs at three in the morning in parts of Europe?

Im not sure yet. Then there was a very long, very quiet pause. I guess I was thinking, too.

Somehow, in that very moment, I knew Id been right. Hed definitely been offended by what Id said, unhappy about being classified as a male-type friend. About time zones? I asked, in case I was wrong.

About us.

Id been expecting it, but I think my heart actually vaulted over its next beat anyway. Are you drunk? I asked. Id ruled myself outnow I needed to make sure he was sober, too.

He took some time to think about it, and I imagined he was probably squinting at doors, too, just to be sure. No, he decided finally.

I inched toward the stairs, leaving my door open so I would hear Chloe if she woke up and called me. He headed down. We reached the bottom tread at the same time and I dropped to sit there, but he kept standing beside me.

I was thinking that maybe we could give each other a kind of break for a while, he said finally. From dating. You know, we could do things together.

What kinds of things? I asked.

He scowled down at me. I dont know. Justuncomplicated things. Things that dont involve pink drinks or timing devices like Frank Ethans watch. We could swear off chasing the opposite sex for a while if we keep each other company in the interim. We could assuage all those male-female urges without the issue getting too complicated.

It wasnt me who needed the break, I thought. Grace had been right. Id pretty much been on a dating hiatus since Id met him. But I decided that it might be prudent not to mention that, because there was a lot in this for me. I could put up a good front for Mill, I realized. If he thought I really was happily involved, maybe he would back down on this whole custody issue. I can rationalize anything, even the irrational.

Let me make sure Ive got this straight, I said. Well do things together for a whileuncomplicated thingswhile we swear off dating until such time as one or both of us feels up to plunging back into the pool?

He looked relieved. Yeah. Thats it exactly. Sowhat do you think?

Define uncomplicated first.

I dont know. Dining, drinks, companionship. Sex.

He shoved that last part in quickly, and my air stopped somewhere midway in my chest. Well, I thought, this would certainly put Graces opinions to rest once and for all. I could claw my heart out with him for a while and get it out of my system.

Thats the whole point of this! he said when I didnt answer immediately. I thought he sounded stressed. Without the sex, were right back out there bashing our heads against the wall looking for the whole enchilada! Damn it, male-type friends can have sex, too!

Ah, I thought. Bingo. Am I perceptive or what? Of course they can, I said quickly.

This would be a mutually gratifying situation, he said. Not a relationship.

We already have a relationship.

But we dont have a relationship.

I thought about it. True. I got to my feet. Okay.

Okay?

It sounds reasonable to me. I was breathing again, but just barely.

So when are we going to start this? he asked.

Tomorrow? It makes sense to begin with a brand-new day, doesnt it? And we could each have tonight to change our minds.

Are you going to change your mind?

Probably not.

Neither will I. He laughed. He sounded self-conscious. Then he started to turn up the stairs again and he paused. Im still good for that hot dog tomorrow if you want to get to the courthouse early. Maybe we should each bring a couple ofI dont knowground rules for thisthis He trailed off completely this time, sounding lost.

Nonrelationship? I suggested.

Arrangement.

I nodded. It was as good a word as any I could think of. You want bylaws?

They could be our arrangement bill-of-rights-and-wrongs, he said.

Should we write them down and affix our signatures?

He laughed again, but his voice still didnt sound quite right. Sure, if you want. Then he went upstairs.

I watched him go. When his legs disappeared around the landing, I came to the amazing discovery that I no longer possessed legs of my own. Theyd gone hollow.

After a while, I wobbled back to my apartment. I checked on Chloe, still snoozing, barely moved. This is another parent thing, but I think its the same whether youre single or with a mate. You check your young repeatedly while they sleep. I dont know what exactly it is that we expect to have happen to them while were not actually looking at them. Its just a compulsion, and maybe its a selfish one at that. Because in the back of your mind, you know that the only way you can really settle down and get some rest yourselfor write lists, as the case might beis if your child is genuinely zonked for the duration of the night.

Since Chloe appeared to be sincerely zonked, I went to my briefcase, found a legal pad and a pen, and carried them back to my own bed with me. Impulsively I took the last of the wine and the shrimp, too. Two hours later I was surprised by how hard it was for me to come up with the ground rules Sam wanted.

Who needed guidelines? I thought. I figured wed just pretty much stay the way we were, except weddo the sex thing. Id get to touch him with impunity. Id finally get to drive my fingers into that great, dark hair of his, touch it when it fell down over his forehead the way it did. Id get himand Graces theoriesout of my system.

Still, I figured I needed to come up with my own bill of rights if only to keep in the spirit of things, so I spent much of the rest of the night on my list. I still wasnt satisfied with it when I tucked my car into the municipal parking lot at twelve-thirty the following afternoon.

Sam was already standing on the corner beside the hotdog vendor. The spider monkeyor chimpanzee, or whatever it waswas perched on his shoulder. Sam should have looked ridiculous. Instead, something airy filled my legs at the sight of him.

I got out of my car and rooted in my trunk for my briefcase, wondering if this wobbly-leg business was going to be a new phenomenon while our arrangement was in place. I could only hope that it would go away as things wore on.

His back was to me and he didnt see me approach. I was able to step up behind him before I spoke. Boo.

He turned. The monkey began chattering. It swiped an eerily human hand in my direction and I jumped back. I did not like the beast. However, like so many females, she was crazy about Sam.

She has a crush on you, I said.

It was an opinion Id shared before, but this time Sam wiggled his brows at me. Jealous?

I am beside myself with anguish. Wheres my hot dog?

Anguish obviously doesnt affect your appetite.

Not a bit. The vendor held a hot dog in my direction, gooey with melted cheese and fried onions, just the way I like it. The monkey made a grab for it. Back off, I warned. Mine.

See? Sam said to Julio, the vendor. Shes jealous.

I took a bite. I was referring to my meal. Hes paying this time, I said to Julio. The poor guys gaze was whipping back and forth between us now. He seemed confused and wary.

We have an arrangement, Sam told him, then he looked at me again. By the way, its started now, right?

Things danced inside me. I managed to nod. But if you call me something like doll, Ill clock you. It was one of the few rules Id been able to come up with last night. No saccharine endearments. Id included this mostly because Id overheard a good many of Sams over the last six months, and they all tended to be nauseating.

He shook his head seriously. Doll? I dont think that particular term has ever passed my lips. He bit down into his own hot dog. The monkey did not try to take his.

Yes, it did, I said. With that redhead.

What redhead?

A couple of months ago. The one in the rust-colored spandex. We arrived home at the same timeme and Frank and you and her. And when you opened the door for her, I distinctly remember hearing you call her doll.

Oh, that redhead. Of course I did. That was her name.

I laughed. Doll?

Eee. Doll-y. He grinned that crooked grin. So do we have a marriage or what?

The last bite of my hot dog jammed in my throat. I swallowed hard to push it down. Last night hed been calling this thing an arrangement, and now he was talking about marriage? I felt like Id fallen asleep in the theater and woken up at the end of the movie. Come again?

The Woodsens, Sam explained. Then he lifted the little monkey from his shoulder. There now, darling, he cooed to her, giving her back to the vendor. Ill be back before you know it. He picked up his briefcase from the sidewalk and headed toward the courthouse steps.

The Woodsens, I thought. He was talking about the Woodsens. Of course he was. I paid the vendor without even thinking about itbecause Sam hadntand I went after him.

Did you talk to Lisa? he asked when I caught up.

Yes. Shes says shell attempt a reconciliation rather than lose her kids. We were back in lawyer mode. There was a great deal of comfort to be found there. Not that I didnt want to proceed with our arrangement. I did. But I was finding that it was a little like walking a tightrope, and every once in a while it just seemed best to step down and plant my feet on solid ground again.

Its never going to work if thats her attitude, Sam said.

He dumped her and filed for divorce over a simple medical problem! I protested.

Simple medical problem? Sam laughed as we trotted up the steps. Is that politically correct for running around the house naked?

Only when your partner perceives it as an invasion from Pluto.

We stopped in front of the big oak doors. Lyles going to need more of an enthusiastic response than that, Sam insisted. Thats all Im saying.

And hell get it. Eventually. Shes just going to make him jump through a few hoops first.

See all the games and garbage we can avoid with our arrangement? Doll?

I laughed, but I think it came out a little hoarsely. What else are we avoiding? I asked him. Did you decide on your ground rules yet?

Sure. They didnt take much thought.

For a brief moment, I hated him. Great, I said. So you go first.

All right. No sleepovers. Also no sharing of toothbrushes. Those two sort of go hand in hand.

I frowned. They fell into my companionship category, but I had been getting by without that sort of thing for a while now and I figured I could keep on doing it. Okay. But then my curiosity got the better of me. Why not?

Its just part of keeping it uncomplicated, he said. It will be neater if we just keep all that cuddly stuff out of it. You know, thats always where I get into trouble.

With cuddly stuff?

Yeah. Thats the point of this, right? Were friends. We dont have to cuddle. We dont hold hands. Were talking sex and companionship here. Period.

He didnt seem awkward with it today. He really had it down. My turn, I said, and I latched on to the rule Id mentioned earlierin part because for a moment I couldnt remember any of the others. None of those endearments of yours. Absolutely noyou knowdarlings and dolls and snookums and babycakes.

Honestly, Mandy, youre not the babycakes type.

I wasnt sure if I was insulted or pleased. I decided not to try to figure it out.

No complaining or handing out guilt trips, he said, ticking off another rule on the fingers of his free hand, the one that wasnt holding his briefcase.

Now I was insulted. When have I ever done that sort of thing?

You havent. Yet. But that was when we were justyou know, us. Now were getting into uncharted territory so Im just putting it out there. If I decide I want to stay in some night and read, there cant be any whining and making me feel bad about it. Also, it works both ways. You get to go to the gym like youre always doing without me busting your chops because I wanted to see you.

My head was spinning. But he was right. It made a certain amount of sense, I supposed. He wanted to take a break from the whining and the guilt trips. That was the whole purpose behind this thing. That, and getting him out of my system.

Your turn again, Sam said.

I dredged through my memory. I, um, dont have to run around picking up the apartment just because youre coming over. It sounded as lame now as it had last night.

You never do that, he pointed out. Your living room is a Barbie metropolis.

Uncharted territory, I reminded him.

He frowned. Okay. No picking up.

And Chloe comes first. Shes my top priority.

Of course she is. And, anyway, thats part of my rule. No whining or guilt trips if you prefer to spend time with her.

I nodded. So far, this was verycivilized, I thought. What else?

Its not necessary for us to touch base every day.

Sam, weve been touching base every day for the entire six months Ive known you. For some reason, this was starting to bother me.

But things are different now, so if it should ever happen that we dont touch base for some reason, there wont be a major conflagration.

No conflagrations, I repeated.

And nobodys going to go falling in love, he said. Thats the big one. I dont need to be going there again.

I finally laughed at that. It came up from my belly. I think youre safe, Sam. Ive already seen you at your most impressive and it hasnt overwhelmed me. Ive also seen you at your worst. Wearing pink, for instance. Or remember when you broke your finger putting in my air conditioner? You howled more than a woman giving birth.

The hell I did. He scowled. Anyway, this brings us back to throwing drinks and timing devices like Frank Ethans watch.

Exactly where we came in, I agreed.

Right. He opened the courthouse door for me.

I stepped inside, but then I turned back to gape at him. You never open doors for me.

That was before, when you were one of the guys. Now youre my girl.

Im I broke off. Somehow, it seemed diametrically opposed to everything we had just discussed.

Figuratively speaking, Sam explained.

Oh. Of course.

I knew then that I had to get a grip. This wasnt going to work if the world kept tilting on its axis with everything he said. I was supposed to feel clinical and practical about this, not light-headed and weak-kneed and on the constant verge of passing out.

Theyre meeting for lunch right about now, Sam said, looking at his watch. Or at least they are if she agreed to see him.

Who? I asked dazedly.

Lisa and Lyle Woodsen.

Where? And what the hell difference did that make?

The same restaurant where they had their first date. So wheres ours going to be?

I grabbed my wits about me halfway across the lobby. I have show tickets for Atlantic City this weekend. No, I thought immediately, that wouldnt work. It would be better to take Grace or Jenny along, because that sort of occasion would almost necessitate an overnight. Would one of us sleep on the floor? Would we take two separate rooms? How would that fit into our rules?

I was thinking more along the lines of tonight, Sam said while I was picking at the problem.

Tonight? That wassoon.

I looked at him. He grinned that crooked, bad-boy grin, and I knewsuddenly I just knewthat he realized how flustered I was by all this. And he liked it. I decided I was damned if I was going to let him keep yanking my chain.

That was the only reason I did what I did next in full view of a lobby bustling with lawyers, litigants and various law enforcement personnel. Okay, maybe Mill had a little to do with it, too. I knew it would get back to him. I caught Sams tie with my left hand and gave it a tug until he stepped closer to me.

Hey, he said, startled.

I kissed him hard on the mouth. That had been my intention anywayone strong smack to reestablish my upper hand. But then something happened. A rolling kind of jolt went through me. Because while Id meant to smack, his mouth turned out to be as soft as a wish, and I stayed a little too long. At some point while I lingered, he obviously recovered from his surpriseand I forgot all about Mill.

His tongue slipped fast, neatly, past my lips, tangling with mine. It teased a moment. Then it was gone. I reeled back.

Sneak preview, he said, and winked at me. Good idea. Then he left me standing there like a dumbstruck idiot and headed for his courtroom.




Chapter Four


I have no recollection of being in court that afternoon, though I know I must have been because I billed Robert Awney for my time. The man was grinning when he left the courthouse. His wife had left him and hed never gotten over it, so he took her back to court once a year, trying to change his child support or his visitation, just to harass her. Celia Awney Neulanders expression was predictably murderous as she stalked off.

I stood on the cold, aged tile of the lobby floor watching them go, then I looked around for Sam. He was nowhere to be found. I found myself thinking about our arrangement again, and I was suddenly swept by the conviction that it would never work. Nothing between us would ever be as simple as he was making this whole thing out to sound. We both had our egos. We were both strong-willed. Each of us had a decided preference for being in charge. This was going to be a tug-of-war, I thought.

I decided that what I really needed to do about the situation was talk to Grace. I whipped around, swinging my briefcase like a deadly weapon, and headed for the elevator bank instead of the lobby doors.

I found her at her desk outside Judge Castellos chambers on the sixth floor. She was snarling into the phone at someone who apparently mistook her for a woman who cared about the terms of his parole. I waited for six minutes and during that time, Grace told the caller no less than eight times that he ought to get a lawyer who would then tell it to the judge.

She hung up the phone a little too hard and looked surprised to see me. If its five oclock already, then this must be my afterlife.

I hated to disappoint her. I need to talk to you, I said. About Sam.

Her brows did a slow slide up her forehead. Have you decided to claw with him?

I think I gave a jerky little nod before I shook my head.

Which is it? she asked. Yes or no?

Yes. But Im having doubts now.

That would make you an idiot.

I glowered at her. I should have gone to Jenny with this.

Jenny would already be out buying floral arrangements for your wedding. Grace stood from her desk. This requires coffee, she decided.

I followed her out of the chambers area to the balcony that overlooked a lot of empty air all the way down to the ground floor. I generally avoided standing near the railing because it made me dizzy. Grace went right over to it and leaned against it, folding her arms over her chest, utterly unperturbed by the fact that if the wood suddenly gave way, her life would be over.

What happened to the coffee? I asked, surprised.

This cant wait for the elevator. The cafeteria was on the third floor. I want to hear what you two have been up to.

I cleared my throat. Well, its an arrangement, I said. Itsuh, sex. Only. But that wasnt entirely true. Also companionship, I added.

Conversation? she asked.

Of course. I scowled. Were hardly going to claw with our lips sealed.

Comfort?

Suddenly I saw where she was headed with this. I threw my hands up in surrender.

Am I to take it that you two talked about this, Grace asked, set some guidelines and decided to get naked together?

We I trailed off. Thats about the size of it.

Its about time.

You dont think its odd that we discussed it first?

Youre both lawyers. This is what lawyers do.

We made bylaws, too.

She nodded as though this made all the sense in the world. Less chance of chaos and misunderstanding that way. So whats the problem?

My motives arent the purest. ThereI said it aloud. After all, confession is supposed to be good for the soul. Im not doing it to dodge the dating pool, I admitted. I havent been in the dating pool for a while.

So dodging the dating pool is the motivation behind all this?

Its Sams. We finally set off toward the elevators.

Whats yours?

Its entirely possible that I just want to rip his clothes off, I admitted.

I said this just as the elevator doors slid open. There were three people inside. An elderly woman gasped mildly. An overweight man in red suspenders grinned at me. The child with him seemed to have no reaction to my comment whatsoever.

Grace sailed into the elevator car without a qualm. I followed, feeling ridiculous.

How long is this arrangement supposed to last? she asked me.

Can we finish discussing this when we get to the cafeteria? I looked left and right to find that we still had the rapt attention of both the other passengers over the age of ten.

The elevator doors slid open again, and I fled through them, refusing to look back. Until one or both of us decide we want to move on, I explained finally.

This will get him out of your system so you can finally start dating again. You know, youve been hung up on him for a very long time now, Grace observed.

I frowned. Teenagers got hung up, I thought. Cinderella had pined for Prince Charming, and Snow White had been prepared to sleep forever without that kiss. I, on the other hand, was a thirty-five-year-old professional just stuffed to the brim with common sense and independence. I did not get hung up on anyone.

So when does this deal start? Grace asked when we reached the cafeteria.

Maybe tonight.

Ah. Theres the floor that makes the feet feel cold.

Im not hung up and I dont have cold feet.

Mandy, youre jumping around like a ballerina here. Whose idea was this anywayyours or Sams?

I thought about it as we collected our coffee. His.

That makes it even better.

We sat at a table and reached for the sugar canister at the same time. We both took our coffee black except when we were at the courthouse. The brew there is abysmal. I got to the little packets first and plucked out a whole handful of them. We divided them up, four apiece.

I have another ulterior motive, I said suddenly. Im thinking maybe it will get back to Mill that Im seeing someone.

Grace very rarely made a move that wasnt smooth, but this almost made her snort her first sip of coffee out her nose. What does Mill have to do with it? she asked.

Hes suing me for custody of Chloe.

She went very still. Bastard.

Its the election.

Of course its the election. Thats what makes him a bastard.

I felt the tension continue to uncoil and relax inside me. Thats the thing about friends. The good ones, the real ones, dont just talk you down when youre nervous about something and they dont just reserve comment about why you need four sugars in your coffee and what that might do to your health. Real friends are always on your side. If you take it into your head to shoot someone, a real friend will help you hide the body before she asks you why you did it.

What are you going to do? Grace asked me now.

Tear him limb from limb and use him for fertilizer.

You should ask Sam to represent you, she said. Hes got that amazing winning percentage.

A lot of it had come at my expense, too. He offered, I said. I think if Judge Larson is going to hear this, Ill probably take him up on it. The complexion of things had changed since we had talked about it last night and I had declined his offer. We had an arrangement now and I wanted Mill to know about it. And Larson would probably give Sam the moon and the stars if he batted those blue eyes at her just the right way.

Grace finally drained her coffeecourageous soul that she isand stood. I need to get back upstairs. The criminal element calls. If tonight turns out to be the big night for you two, would you like Jenny to take Chloe off your hands?

Some people might have thought it odd that she would offer up her roommates services that way. I was used to it by now. Ill let you know.

Dont use Mrs. Casamento, she warned. Shed be knocking on your door on an hourly basis, and that would be very tough on the libido.

Sams or mine? I asked, standing as well.

Sams. Yours is so primed, a scud missile couldnt take it out.

I didnt even try to argue that one. I had been ignoring the little shock waves he created inside me for quite some time now. So I just nodded again. My neck was starting to hurt from all the up-and-down jerks Id given it in the past twenty minutes or so, but I knew I could probably count a good neck rub in my immediate future.

We went back to the elevator bay, and Grace rode up while I headed down. When I hit the lobby again, I rooted my cell phone out of my briefcase. I called the office and told my secretary that something personal had come up so I wouldnt be back today. It wasnt really a lie. This was definitely personal with a capital P.

Wine had gotten me into this, I decided, and wine would get me through it. I stopped at a liquor store on my way home and hit the front door of my building at the precise moment a cab pulled up to the curb, toting Chloe and three other classmates whose mothers Id made kiddie-travel arrangements with for purposes of school. It was my week to pay. Mrs. Casamento was waiting at the curb to collect Chloe for me and I took back the money Id given her for the taxi.

Im home early today, I explained. Then Chloe bulleted out of the taxi and threw herself into my arms. I caught her neatly and didnt even come close to bobbling the bottle of Cabernet Id bought.

How come, Mom? This is cool! Chloe shouted. I felt a spasm of guilt that she was so glad to see me. I wasnt around after school nearly enough.

Hard to make a living if you dont work normal hours, Sylvie Casamento judged.

I dont get paid by the hour, I assured her. Its okay.

Thing is, I count on this money every afternoon, she complained.




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Playing By The Rules Beverly Bird
Playing By The Rules

Beverly Bird

Тип: электронная книга

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

Язык: на английском языке

Издательство: HarperCollins

Дата публикации: 16.04.2024

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О книге: RULE#1: POSITIVELY NO FALLING IN LOVE ALLOWEDSam Case had a killer smile and a laid-back charm that had women swooning at his feet and crying their hearts out over his playboy ways. Suave on the outside, but vulnerable on the inside, Sam wanted out of the dating game….But as a single mom, I, Mandy Hillman, had given up on Mr. Right, until my smooth-talking neighbor, Sam, proposed…something more than friendship. I agreed to his no-strings-attached affair, and my best friend became my lover. But then I ruined everything when I broke the rules and fell in love with Sam. Suddenly, anything less than happily-ever-after felt like losing….And I always play to win!