How To Win
How To Win
Lass Small
MISSION: (RE)MARRIAGE He might be an ornery son of a gun, but never let it be said Tyler Fuller didn't love his wife. Well, ex-wife, since he'd presented her with an ultimatum she'd shockingly accepted. Now this hotheaded hubby was darned tired of spending the long, cold nights alone, so he vowed to win her back!His mission should have been as simple as the first time he'd convinced Kayla to say "I do." After all, they'd jumped right from the bedroom and marched straight down the wedding aisle. But Tyler was gonna have to learn a few things about his self-improved former bride. Like how Kayla wanted to take things slow… and just how good slow could be!
“Maybe We Ought To Have A Kid,” (#ub4313edb-6f7e-58df-9e13-cda6dd1f0913)Letter to Reader (#u0f76be7d-5bf5-5309-a117-fba279763883)Title Page (#u89d60bbf-fc78-54ea-b59d-2aee61377a34)About the Author (#u5f821460-075b-510e-abb8-e7c8068c9792)Chapter One (#u2032afb2-ff14-5854-9661-76fe1568d8e7)Chapter Two (#uf62091c8-cd22-5b0f-99fc-be4521373be8)Chapter Three (#uc4f650dd-bd5d-53c2-862c-c4cd59e047d9)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“Maybe We Ought To Have A Kid,”
Tyler suggested thoughtfully.
Kayla was startled. “We’re divorced. Children should have two parents.”
“I’d be around enough.”
Kayla scoffed. “Mostly gone.”
“Now, Kayla, you wouldn’t want me to quit working and hang around the house....”
Again she mentioned, “We are divorced.”
“You’re an old-fashioned girl.”
“I’m a current woman, and I am single. There is no way, at all, that I’d take on having a kid in this position. I’m not that careless.”
He sighed into the phone. “So. I suppose we ought to be married.”
“No thank you. We’ve tried that.” And she hung up.
Dear Reader,
The celebration of Silhouette Desire’s 15th anniversary continues this month! First, there’s a wonderful treat in store for you as Ann Major continues her fantastic CHILDREN OF DESTINY series with November’s MAN OF THE MONTH, Nobody’s Child. Not only is this the latest volume in this popular miniseries, but Ann will have a Silhouette Single Title, also part of CHILDREN OF DESTINY, in February 1998, called Secret Child. Don’t miss either one of these unforgettable love stories.
BJ James’s popular BLACK WATCH series also continues with Journey’s End, the latest installment in the stories of the men—and the women—of the secret agency.
This wonderful lineup is completed with delicious love stories by Lass Small, Susan Crosby, Eileen Wilks and Shawna Delacorte. And next month, look for six more Silhouette Desire books, including a MAN OF THE MONTH by Dixie Browning!
Desire...it’s the name you can trust for dramatic, sensuous, engrossing stories written by your bestselling favorites and terrific newcomers. We guarantee handsome heroes, likable heroines...and happily-ever-after endings. So read, and enjoy!
Senior Editor
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How To Win (Back) A Wife
Lass Small
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
LASS SMALL finds living on this planet at this time a fascinating experience People are amazing. She thinks that to be a teller of tales of people, places and things is absolutely marvelous.
One
It is now over five hundred years since TEXAS was first occupied by Europeans. The city of San Antonio has been altered and fooled with and adjusted. The downtown river is so lovely that it’s been embellished and funneled into more loops.
The riverboat rides are especially nice. You get to see all the old trees, the clean water and the preserved buildings along the way.
One of those riverside buildings, by a handy iron curlicued bridge, harbors the law firm of Reardon, Miller and Rodriguez. The building was renovated inside, but the outside was preserved. The exterior was all painted subtly in a blue-tinted gray and the results are elegant.
Handily, the firm’s office isn’t far from the red granite Bexar County Courthouse. The red granite is the same granite that was used in Austin for the State Capitol. San Antonio has always been a little pushy.
The Bexar of Bexar County is pronounced “bear.” Of course, in a long-ago motion picture that can still be seen on cable TV, Errol Flynn called the county “Bex-ar.” Hearing that, the San Antonio people’s eyes flinched and still do.
One of the Reardon, Miller and Rodriguez firm was Tyler Fuller. As a twenty-eight-year-old lawyer, he was a new rooster. He couldn’t yet crow. He was again single.
The Fullers had been divorced for seven months, three weeks and two days. Tyler Fuller was not keeping track, he just happened to recall the time. After all, it had been he who had instigated the divorce.
It had stilled him with shock when the dark-haired, blue-eyed Kayla had discarded his name and gone back to her maiden name of Davie. She did that as if she’d wiped out everything about Tyler Fuller.
Kayla acted like there’d never been any good times—she hadn’t seemed at all grieved to part from him. She’d flipped away like he’d never meant anything to her, at all.
When she got snippy and cold, and then moved out, he’d countered with the divorce. She hadn’t turned a hair.
His parents, his siblings, his friends, even his kindergarten buddies all knew he was nuts.
Disgruntled, Tyler thought at least Kayla could have protested the divorce. She could have at least leaked a tear or two and looked at him with regret.
Tyler clearly remembered being in a group, not long after their divorce. He remembered having found her in the crowd and with casual élan he’d joined the segment which contained his ex-wife. With some assumed control, he’d used the excuse to be by her side by introducing Tom Keeper to her. Tom’s family owned a chunk of West TEXAS.
Tyler had named Kayla as Kayla Fuller, and she’d given Tyler a glance as she’d corrected, “My last name’s Davie.”
Of course, her saying that had made Tom Keeper smile. Tom had been a male TEXAS predator of females since he was six months old. Everybody knew that. And after the introduction, Kayla had treated Tom as if he was harmless.
That just proved to Tyler that she needed some sort of chaperone. At twenty-five, she was a babe in the woods.
No normal woman would treat Tom like he wasn’t dangerous. Any half-brained woman would have immediately known the real Tom Keeper’s knuckles dragged on the floor and his pointed teeth dripped hot saliva.
It was just a good thing Tyler never left her side that night. He’d even told Tom that Kayla was still his as soon as she recognized that simple fact. Tom was not to foul up the works. Did he understand?
Tom had laughed. But he had gone on off...that night.
Tyler had known Kayla now for over four years. They were married not quite two years. And of the two years, they’d been divorced for seven months, three weeks and two days...exactly.
Just because they were divorced, she hadn’t said anything about their second anniversary. No card. No call. Nothing.
At the time, he’d courteously called so that she could thank him for the flowers. She hadn’t answered her phone until after eleven. Where had she been on their anniversary? Grieving for their lost marriage, drinking rot gut in some sleazy bar?
Kayla was not a drinker. At best, she’d have two small glasses of wine in maybe three months. She wasn’t any kind of drinker.
Where had she been on the night of their second anniversary?
He hadn’t asked. He’d hinted several times, but he hadn’t out and out asked. Actually, he’d pushed. She hadn’t noticed.
They hadn’t talked long on the phone. She’d been in a hurry. And she’d never once mentioned the milestone day. Of course, they were divorced. Even so, it seemed to Tyler that she should have remembered it had been two years since their wedding.
She hadn’t been very open with him. When he’d finally talked to her that night, she’d asked, “Now what’s the matter?”
And he’d said, “I just called to say—hello.”
“It’s after eleven, and I have to get to work early. Goodbye.”
And she’d hung up! She had! On their second anniversary! It was probably a good thing they were already divorced.
Women are insensitive. It was always the man who bought the woman flowers, smoothed things between them and took the woman out to eat. And just because the eatery wasn’t an Indiana Casa D’angelo! or a Café Johnell, she’d slide her eyes around the place and her face would be pinched.
Kayla wasn’t at all sophisticated. She had no notion as to how she ought to act. Once she’d gotten up from the table and just flat out left a place. It was after a guy had slid off the bar stool and lay on the floor... ignored by the staff. But the staff was behind the bar, and he had been short. The bartender probably thought the guy had left.
Kayla had never considered the atmosphere—other than to bury her nose in a lace-edged handkerchief. Tyler had tried to expand her experiences, but she was too limited. She did not accept variations.
How could a sixth-generation TEXAS woman be so unknowing? She wasn’t a delicate Easterner, she was a solid TEXAS woman!
Tyler picked up the phone and punched the redial. It rang in his ear twenty-four times. He hung up eventually. She probably was asleep and had turned off the bell. No curiosity. She just lived her life in a vacuum.
Kayla really never did bend enough. She never had. Like the dogfights. That night they’d found a gathering and stopped to see what it was. It was a dogfight and he was curious. He’d said to her, “Just a minute.”
It wasn’t long before Tyler frowned and turned to say they’d leave.
She was gone.
In that brief time, she’d vanished. She’d bought four of the dogs at a staggering price and left the place, taking them with her. There had been no room for him in his car with her and the four dogs, and without consulting him, she’d just...driven away!
Tyler was ticked. She’d abandoned him in that obnoxious place!
He’d had a couple of offers for rides, but the women had looked dangerous, so he’d walked.
At a public phone, he’d dialed the sheriffs office to alert him to the dogfights. By the time he got home, he was calm.
Kayla was asleep. Deep in their throats, the four dogs had growled a warning at him. None barked. They might waken her. Tyler had slept on the living-room sofa.
When he’d wakened the next morning, Kayla was gone. Gone. None of her clothes were in their closet. She’d moved out. She had taken the dogs.
She blamed him for the dogfights? That irritated him. She could have waited and listened. He was ticked.
Tyler had walked around. The apartment was silent. Even with all the furniture, the place was empty.
So he’d called at her parents’ house. Obviously Kayla had contacted them with her side of the breakup. Her mother had said to Tyler, “Hello, dear. You’ve thrown it all at the fan.”
Her mother was that way. She said outrageous things but she altered the words for politeness. Her mother was why Kayla was the way she was.
Kayla’s dad was an observer. Although Mrs. Davie was open and clear, Mr. Davie was quiet, probably suspicious, and watched. That time he’d said to Tyler, “You goofed.”
And Tyler had replied, “Not entirely.”
As time passed, Tyler tried to get in touch with his wife, but she was never there. Her car was gone. No matter when he’d go past the Davie house, her car wasn’t there. And she never answered the phone. The cook, Goldilocks, or her parents said, “I’m not sure where she is right now. I’ll tell her you called.”
So he had the divorce papers served. He’d thought that would stir her up.
She signed them.
Before Tyler knew what was really happening, he was divorced. Uncontested.
He got all the furniture except for the several pieces of antiques that had been in the Davie family for all eternity. She’d picked out their furniture. It was okay. Discreet. He’d have had the upholstery more colorful.
When he wasn’t there, she’d come to their apartment and collected the rest of her things. But she’d left all of her keys.
There is nothing more irritating and deflating than a woman who won’t fight to keep a man.
With all that furniture as his, his mother refused to have him back home, even briefly, so that he could heal. He had to stay where he was. But he didn’t heal.
There wasn’t a day dragged by that he wasn’t aware Kayla wasn’t there. She’d be back. She had a hungry body. She was ethereal. Pure. She wouldn’t sleep around. He was her only partner in sex. She loved his body. She’d be back, and he’d explain.
He’d kept the place clean for seven months, three weeks and two days, waiting for her to open the door with her key and fling herself into his waiting arms.
No key. She’d left them all on the dining-room table. She didn’t plan to...ever...come back.
She wouldn’t even call him.
She never answered her phone. Just her mother. Or her father. Or one of her sisters. Or Goldilocks who ruled the Davie household but was supposed to just be the cook.
All of them just said Kayla wasn’t there.
So...where was she?
They never knew.
She’d been abducted by aliens. No. There wasn’t anything he could do about rescuing her from aliens in star ships. How about slave snatchers?
He’d go out in his cousin Wally’s boat and chase down the bigger boat and rescue all the captives. But like Scan Connery in the film, Tyler would put Kayla into a rowboat and they’d drift away. He’d show her how they’d made love. She liked sex.
Kayla loved him.
When would she remember that?
When would her hungry body go on overdrive and force her to come back to him? She’d kick open the door, come inside and stand, looking at him with greed in her eyes. Her uncontrolled breasts would be heaving with her desire as her hot eyes would rake over him mercilessly. Yeah.
Then he found out she wasn’t living at her parents’ house, she was with a friend. She and those dogs. Henrietta was certainly a tolerant woman. She had cats.
Cats—and dogs who had been rescued from a fighting pit? That must be distracting. Who acted as umpire during the day when the humans were gone?
Kayla would come back to him.
He could handle dogs. He could handle women. He could handle her. Man! How he’d like handling her again. And he about went berserk at the very idea of it.
He always looked for her no matter where he was going. San Antonio wasn’t that big. There were just over a million people. Eventually, he would get to run into her and then he’d exclaim, “I’m so sorry! Oh. Haven’t we met?” And he’d laugh in his throat in the way that turned her on.
But he never once saw her. And he figured that she was grieving. She missed him so badly that she couldn’t go out anywhere at all. She was zonked.
No other woman drew his eyes. He’d thought to date some classy babe and make Kayla jealous. But he couldn’t. He looked at the laughing women and at their bodies, but none of them was Kayla. So he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He could see no other woman. And he sighed.
His friends dragged him to different places where things would be mixed up and interesting. He was bored. He wandered around with an empty glass, and even knowing he wouldn’t find her, he looked for Kayla.
There were men who mentioned, “Saw Kayla at the boxing match. She was on the first row and she was really involved.”
Unbelievingly, Tyler’s voice squeaked up as he exclaimed, “At a boxing match? She was there?”
The guy laughed. “Yeah. She’s physical.”
That froze Tyler’s heart. How...physical had she been...with who all?
So the TEXAS winter came along. That’s a whole lot like the Yankee spring. But in their winter, the thin blooded TEXANS put on jackets and complained about the cold.
It had snowed twice in Tyler’s twenty-eight years. One of those times the snow had lasted two whole days before the TEXAS winter warmed enough to melt the miracle.
The native TEXANS said, “I don’t understand those Yankees who winter down here. Those Winter TEXANS. They complain so about the northern snow! It’s such a surprise and so pretty! How come the Yankees come down here instead of staying up yonder and enjoying the miracle?”
Now, how was a Winter TEXAN supposed to reply to that?
And for Tyler, time did pass. He worked hard at his office. When he was out, he found he could catch a glimpse of Kayla now and again. Or someone who might have been she. Someone who walked like Kayla...who wasn’t. Several times in those months, he’d run after a woman and then awkwardly apologized.
One of those mistakes had grinned and waited for him to make some move to know her. But Tyler’s disappointment had been such that he couldn’t see the woman as a woman. She just wasn’t Kayla.
Tyler Fuller was a lawyer. The firm Reardon, Miller and Rodriguez had about fifty lawyers downtown. There were branches of the firm in other locations.
Tyler was in an awesome firm in which he was just a growing mushroom. He was under a woman lawyer who was only eight years older than he. She was Barbara Nelson. And she was not married. Not that marriage would have slowed her down any.
Barbara’s secretary handed out work and some was given to Tyler. A buck slip or a route slip was on the document for information.
Through her secretary, Barbara Nelson had Tyler drafting documents, writing briefs, handling the background for labor disputes, Social Security disability petitions and interviews with clients or opponents.
All the problems were run-of-the-mill except for the persons involved. The problems could be divorce, bankruptcy, or pretrial motions or interviews with prospective witnesses.
Some days, Tyler might have to go to the police station and check files, or see doctors who had pro or con evidence. Tyler was busy.
His secretary was from the firm’s pool. And he tried always to get Marian Web because she was so brilliant that she never made a mistake nor did she allow him to make any. She was his mother’s age and tolerant of Tyler. That was clear when she adjusted her commitments so that she could mostly help Tyler.
Women spoiled him rotten.
Well, some women.
His immediate boss, Barbara Nelson, was thirty-six years old. She was a single woman who had control, and she was in charge. She was confident, selective, and she was blunt. She didn’t chew tobacca. That was a plus.
Tyler had no real qualms about her until his divorce. Then, once, the Nelson woman had patted his bottom! He’d been offended.
She’d always smiled at Tyler and watched his body when he was walking toward her. His sex loved it. His brain was offended. But she hadn’t approached him until just after his divorce.
She’d say, “Let’s have a drink after work.”
He’d ask, “Is this important? There’s batting practice.” Tyler was on the legals’ baseball team. And she wouldn’t find out if what he said was true. That’s why he’d never used the excuse of a business appointment. She could check it out.
With his baseball-used rejection, Barbara had smiled and told him, “Since we work together, I just thought it would be nice...to get acquainted.”
He lied to her with great grief-stricken eyes, “I’m going to a shrink. I can’t handle this divorce.”
So Barbara had half lowered her eyelids as she said, “Let me know when you’re more...open.”
His sex bulged, his back shivered and his throat clacked as he said, “Yes.” And he got away.
Again Tyler had lied. He had no notion of ever getting involved with that woman. She terrified him. And he began to understand the slender woman in the secretary pool who wore high neck, bulky clothes and no makeup and kept her face blank and serious with her eyes downcast.
It was only then Tyler realized—what was her name? It was Martha. Martha never said one word. She had to’ve talked some time. But she had no casual or friendly chatter to share.
He went to Martha and told her, “Help me. Pretend you and I are a couple. No! I promise I’ll leave you alone. I’m just divorced. I don’t want any ties. Pretend we’re good friends.”
“Leave me alone.”
That’s what she said.
And she didn’t wait until he replied. Martha was brief and finished. She’d said it all.
Tyler was out on a raft in a dangerous sea and no one but the sharks were aware of him.
Even men have it rough. That was a revealing and startling observation. Up until then, Tyler had thought men had it all. That men controlled the world and their own lives as they chose. How the world... changes.
Tyler didn’t have a whole lot of trouble in seeming to be solemn. He simply didn’t laugh. He didn’t join the groups that stood and chatted. He kept to himself, harboring, nurturing his grief.
So John Reardon, who was the Big Gun of the Firm, called Tyler into his office. That was a shock. Tyler’s mind went over everything he’d done and wondered where he’d fouled up.
He was on time at Mr. Reardon’s appointment. He sat in the outer office, and the secretary smiled at him. She said, “We don’t see much of you anymore.”
He looked at her...her name was Nancy. He said, “Yeah.”
“Mr. Reardon will be free in a minute. He just wants to know if you’re okay. You used to be so funny. Since your divorce, you’ve gotten so quiet that we all worry about you.”
She was kind to tell him why he was there. A whole lot of knots loosened in his body and he could relax a little. But he didn’t smile. Fortunately, he’d been so panicked that he didn’t yet smile. So he could control it.
Nancy said, “All of us are worried about you. I thought we ought to have a party for you. A freedom party, now that you’re single again. But Mr. Reardon said, ‘Not yet.’ So we’ll wait until you can enjoy it...too.” She grinned at him.
His smile was a little sick. In an office as big as theirs was, how could any one of them have the time to notice somebody like him? It was touching in a way, but it made Tyler feel as if he was on a stage, alone...without a script.
He’d never realized anyone in the firm had noticed him. Other than his boss, Barbara Nelson.
He’d lived in a secure niche of anonymity while he was married. Now, divorced, he was loose and vulnerable. He began to understand women who were in the same slot he was in then. He understood Martha’s bundled-up clothing and her lack of animation.
His meeting with Mr. Reardon was longer than necessary. Tyler had work to do. He was a little restless.
“I know how you feet,” Mr. Reardon told Tyler. “I’ve been where you are now. It’s been some years ago, but that doesn’t soften such a happening. I know just exactly what you’re going through.”
So Mr. Reardon got to go through it all again. It was too much. As empathetic as the top gun was, Tyler was busy. He had work to do. No two situations are ever the same. No one knows what another suffers. Mr. Reardon had had an affair, and his first wife had found out.
Tyler had had no affair. All that he’d done was to try to expand Kayla’s knowledge of adventures. She’d misunderstood, been ungrateful and stubborn. Women are a great nuisance.
There is no substitute for women.
That was a very sobering realization. A man married, and that was it! He had a partner for life. To have and to hold. And she’d wiggled away from him and was gone!
Then Tyler heard that Mr. Reardon was saying with a sigh, “It happens. You’ll get through this in time. We’re all backing you. Chin up!”
And Tyler was touched. Whatever the big man had been saying, he meant to help. Tyler rose and stood tall. “Thank you, sir.”
Mr. Reardon inquired kindly, “You sure you don’t want a couple of days off?”
“No, sir.” Tyler was startled. Had the old man been trying to give him some time off? He said earnestly, “I’d like to get things done.” Then he added gently, “Mother says a man needs distraction. Law is surely that.”
“Yes, my boy. You’re a good man.” Reardon nodded in agreement with his words. “I’m glad we have you with us. If there’s ever any problem, just let us help.”
“Thank you, sir.” And Tyler was surprised to find his eyes were moist.
It got worse when Mr. Reardon stood up and came around the desk to put an arm over Tyler’s shoulders. “I’m glad we had this talk. Remember, you’re one of us.”
Really touched, Tyler almost choked on his emotions. “Thank you, sir.”
“I’m here, my boy. Anytime.”
And he escorted Tyler to the door where they shook hands.
Imagine that. Tyler walked unseeing down the corridor. Just imagine that whole place being aware of one little, wet-eared lawyer. He was brilliant, of course, but not everyone of the firm had that knowledge, as yet.
He went back to his desk and sat down in the shared office.
His office mate was Jamie Oliver. Jamie asked, “Everything go okay?”
And Tyler swung his chair around and said with the amazement he felt, “The old man wanted to know if I’m okay.”
“You foul up something? How can I help?”
And Tyler laughed. But he was again touched. Even Jamie was on his side. Not even competitive! He just asked to help. And Tyler’s eyes got wet again.
Jamie got up and came over very seriously to lean down. “What is it?”
“They wanted to help me get through this problem with Kayla. It’s been a while. They thought I needed help. I turned down a drink with Nelson.”
Jamie frowned at Tyler. “That was rash. I’d jump at any chance like that.”
Tyler laughed. “‘You’re a better man than I, Gunga Din.”’
“I know.” And Jamie walked back to his chair, sat, rolled his chair in to his desk and was immediately absorbed in the papers.
That evening with his parents, Tyler told his dad about the firm’s head honcho. “I was surprised. It never occurred to me anyone else would understand.”
“We all understand,” his dad assured his son. “Have you seen the darlin’ lately?”
Well, Tyler surely knew Kayla was the “darlin’” mentioned. And he was a little irritated to have her called a darling. She was the one who’d left him. A bit stilted, Tyler replied, “No.”
His father sighed rather too heavily and lamented, “How did you let her get away?”
And, unfortunately, Tyler snapped, “I was only trying to educate her and—” But he didn’t get to explain.
His father looked up at his own son in aghast shock! “You hurt her?”
“No! Good gravy, Dad! I took her to see what had garnered such a crowd and found out there was a dogfight! I’d never seen one and thought she would be curious, too.”
And his father’s face changed from alarm to indignation. “You took that fragile flower to a dogfight?” His voice squeaked up rather remarkably. “They’re illegal.”
And with seriousness, Tyler went on. “I know that. I’ve contacted the state police. I’ve offered to be a witness.” He was deadly. “She was not frightened. She bought four of the dogs and put them in the car. I had to walk home!”
His father stared for the count of three, then his closed mouth stretched out, his body began to jiggle and after that the laughter rolled.
Tyler stood trying to get in some logical, adult information. But with the hilarity of his father’s misguided sense of humor, Tyler finally gave up. He left his parents’ house, slammed the door, shaking the entire, bulky structure, and went to his own apartment.
Then he went back for his car and drove it to the apartment. He turned off the phone bell and in spite of his lengthy walk to retrieve his car, he had one hell of a time trying to calm down and sleep that night.
Now, how and why was it that everyone in the sprawled-out city of the diversified San Antonio learned what that Fuller family conversation had been? Guess.
Even the whisperings and giggles and guffaws at the office were to be endured. In just a couple of days, look at the turnaround of the whole layout of his life...from compassion to hilarity.
Tyler was sober, businesslike and he ignored the snorts of laughter. The only one who showed any sympathy, at all, was his office mate, Jamie.
Jamie said, “Sometime, when you can handle it, I’ll tell you what happened to me. But from my own experience, I can give you this—you’ll live. Ignore the pack. They have little sunlight in their lives. You’ve given them this magic moment.” Jamie never looked up from his computer. His voice was moderate. He did not laugh.
Oddly, the joke on Tyler eased all the firm people’s acquired facade. What had happened to Tyler was worse than most of what had happened to them. Such a public put-down as he’d had made Tyler vulnerable. And they all understood vulnerability.
But it made his boss, Barbara Nelson, eager to soothe Tyler.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
He complained to Jamie.
Jamie said, “She can soothe me.”
Distracted, irritated, Tyler said, “I’ll tell her.”
“Get my name right. She calls me Johnny.”
So Tyler explained her mistake. “People in control of many others have some difficulty with names.”
“She sure as hell knows yours.”
“I’m divorced, so I’m not a wet-nosed kid. She expects me to know the ropes?”
Jamie smiled. He licked his lips and put his lower lip under his teeth but he didn’t reply or embellish anything.
He made Tyler laugh.
What a time it was. His longing for Kayla. His adjustment at the office. The adjustment of the coworkers to him. Their now knowing who he was because of all the problems he was having. And it was all because of one woman. Kayla. Kayla Davie who chose to discard Tyler’s name.
That Kayla Davie Fuller was due a set down. Any woman her age ought to be more pliant than she was. She acted as if she had all her life to find a good man. One better than Tyler.
What man was better than he?
Two
Especially in big cities, there are little sections or groups of people who are isolated by their jobs or interests or kinship. Each segment believes they are The City. They’re the important ones. It’s mental territory.
It is solely for them that the city puts on the park festivals, the food tastings, the bands playing and the marching parades. It is all done only for their segment’s own entertainment.
The other people who are there are just phantom people.
The actual citizens who live among friends hardly ever even see the phantoms who are busily involved in their own lives and their own groups. Well, they don’t see them unless some hungry eyes are looking for someone of the opposite sex. Then they see everybody!
But mostly a group sees only those in their own group, and they ignore the many others who are all unseen shadows. The phantom ones drive cars and walk streets and go to grocery stores and to their cleaners.
The phantoms are like elevator background music. They are there to fill in the edges of lives so that no one believes he’s alone. The phantoms are busy with things to be done.
So are those busy people who think they are so special that the world is really just theirs. To those who believe they are the ones in control, the world is for them. Simple. That is true. But all the segments of people think that way. It is their own group that is the important, vibrant, needed one.
For those isolated, self-contained groups, the strangers’ houses might just as well be empty. The unknowns’ offices are blank. The other people in the restaurants don’t county. Not unless you’re looking and then those strange ones are real but unknown others.
Few people think about all those unknown others who live in the city and move about. They don’t really matter unless they get into some kind of trouble. Then everybody helps. Helping isn’t thought out, it is reaction.
Such thinking was just so, for those who were involved with Tyler and Kayla.
Their friends and kinfolk talked to each other about the divorced pair. At a remote family wake, one cousin of Tyler’s mother said of the divorced pair, “I do declare I’ve never seen any couple so hostile to each other. Even Cousin Douthet didn’t carry on this badly. I’ve no patience with the two of them.”
“Hush! Tyler is right over there, and he can hear you!”
The cousin pinched her mouth as she lifted her eyebrows and looked down without moving her head. “Listening to me just might do him some good.”
And at her side, a male voice inquired softly, “What would you say to him?”
It was Tyler himself who spoke. So his mother’s Cousin Maren replied, “You ought to’ve been talking to that child, all along. She’s a Davie, and you let her get away from you!”
“I wasn’t there when she left.” Well, he was asleep...on the sofa in the living room. But he had the audacity to add, “I had no choice.”
And Cousin Maren replied, “Once I left Hebert!” She raised staying hands and turned her head aside. Although no one said anything, Cousin Maren held up her hands as if they’d all gasped and protested such an act. She went on: “And Hebert came to Daddy’s house and said, ‘You get her out here as quick as you can!”’
Tyler inquired, “And, did your daddy do that?”
“No.”
So Tyler asked, “What’d Cousin Hebert do?”
“He came into my room and said to me, ‘Get your things together, woman, I’ve used up my patience with you.’”
“He said that?” It was Tyler, himself, who exclaimed. Of course, Tyler had heard her husband’s version so he was interested in this one.
And Cousin Maren replied, “I stood firm and lifted my chin.” She showed them how she’d done that. “And I pointed to my doorway and told Hebert, ‘Leave here.’ But he would not.
“I finally had to go down and open the front door for him. He then picked me up and carried me to his car. My daddy tried to help me, but Hebert wouldn’t allow that.”
Tyler was the only new listener. All the others had heard Cousin Maren’s version, in its varieties, for some time, by then.
And with some unkind humor, Tyler asked, “Did you ever escape again?”
Cousin Maren sighed and looked off sadly. “I never managed. Hebert is such a determined man.”
So Tyler offered, “I’ll come help you the next time.”
There were coughs that covered the listeners’ shocked hilarity.
But then Maren looked up at Tyler, and he saw that she was not loved as she wanted. Hebert had never cherished her as she’d needed. So she had made up what she wanted.
With earnest compassion, Tyler told his mother’s cousin, “He was lucky your daddy couldn’t stop him, and he got you back. You’re a jewel.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and Tyler hugged her.
As she leaned into his arms, the old lady asked, “How could Kayla ever have left you?” And she looked up at Tyler’s eyes with such remorse.
The odd thing about that little vignette was that it didn’t just joggle Tyler’s understanding, but it surprised the watchers who’d never before realized Cousin Maren was so vulnerable. It made them all think and, after that, they were kinder to her.
But the experience touched Tyler. He’d been deliberately pushing the edge with the old lady. He was acting that way to amuse the watchers. How strange to realize the old cousin wasn’t a joke; she was human and she needed attention.
So Tyler searched the noisy crowd out to find Cousin Hebert and told him very seriously, “Your wife needs some civil attentions from you. You need to admire her and hold her hand and be kind.”
Cousin Hebert squinted his eyes at Tyler and asked, “What all’ve you been drinking, boy? I want some of that.”
Tyler became very serious and settled in to educate the eighty-one-year-old cousin, in women. Tyler was earnest and kind.
Cousin Hebert protested, “I’m too old for that stuff, boy! I can’t even get up on a horse no more.”
Earnestly, Tyler coaxed, “You can share the sunset with her. You can see to it that she’s comfortable. You can buy her something little, and you can give her a rose—”
But after a while, Hebert just asked, “How long since your wife left you?”
Sadly, Tyler said, “Too long.”
And Cousin Hebert said, “How come she left?”
“Damned if I know.”
“I guess you wasn’t doing something you ought to’ve been doing?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
And Cousin Hebert suggested, “Ask her.”
With great sadness, Tyler told the old man, “I haven’t been able to get in touch with her.”
But Cousin Hebert said, “Maybe you ought to try harder?”
“I suppose.”
It’s strange how events turn around and can be viewed from another angle. While Tyler didn’t budge Cousin Hebert one quarter inch, Tyler was budged into finding out why Kayla hadn’t come back to him. She had not only avoided him, she hadn’t even spoken to him.
Why had she so carefully made herself unavailable to him? That was the part that hurt Tyler so terribly. She no longer wanted to see him. That made his feeling of self-worth fade.
He wasn’t a...hero anymore. He was just a man.
About the only thing that kept Tyler Fuller going was the baseball team. It had been organized by the legal firms there in San Antonio. From among the various firms, they had rival teams. There were a whole lot of snide comments about lawyers playing baseball.
Even the lawyers said those kind of things to one another.
And one of the first problems was when the women lawyers and secretaries and receptionists had insisted on playing baseball with the men. It hadn’t worked. The men used different bats and the baseballs were hard. So the female players gradually moved to playing separate games.
And last season the women in the Reardon firm won the area’s legal cup. And the male segment of the firm scored second...to last.
However, being enlightened, the men set up an elegantly structured table in the lobby of their building and put the women’s cup on the table with a spotlight. The table was exactly the right size to show off the cup. It wasn’t too small or skimpy and it wasn’t humongous to overwhelm the cup. It was a perfect exhibit. That soothed a lot of ruffled feathers.
It had been Barbara Nelson’s idea. It was she who had suggested it to the men. She’d expected a hoopla of objection, but the men fooled her. It had been a good move. When Tyler had commented positively on the cup, his boss, Barbara Nelson, had just smiled at him.
Even though he’d been married, then, that smile had scared Tyler more than anything else. Hers was a predator’s smile.
On the team, Tyler played second base. He did well enough as a batter but he had never hit a home run. He was alert and quick. He did his share and he was accurate in his throws. Probably the best thing was that he looked. He knew where players were and he threw precisely. He was a plus. He kept his eye on the ball.
Probably the best advice he got on playing ball was from his great-uncle Clyde, who said, “Whenever a baseball referee mentions your number, shake your head in a serious, surprised way. Everybody will think the referee was as blind as they’d always suspected.”
That small move could also be applied to a lawyer’s devaluation of another lawyer’s client in court. Especially if there was a jury.
Last year, Kayla had been one of the wives who’d come out to the games. She’d been interested and ornery. She’d laughed when the crowd got too upset over anything. She’d been weird even then.
Tyler groaned as he contemplated how he missed her. As the games were played, he’d foolishly look in the stands for her. And he’d realize she was gone. He had no one to cheer him on and give him the knowledge that somebody cared about him.
His parents were there. His sisters and brothers and nieces and nephews. His cousins... Yeah. And they cheered. But Kayla wasn’t there.
Even Barbara Nelson was there. She would be. She made Tyler’s skin prickle in alarm.
It was after a while and months of trying before Tyler finally got hold of his ex on the phone. He was so surprised when she answered that for a breath he couldn’t think of anything to say.
She’d repeated, “Hello?”
And he’d said, “Don’t hang up.”
Her impatient sigh had been obvious. But she hadn’t hung up.
He’d said, “I need to know that you’re all right.”
“Yes.”
“And I need to know if you need anything at all. Do you have enough money?”
“Yes.”
He’d scrambled for something to say. “Is your car working all right?”
“Yes.”
“I miss you like bloody hell.”
“You’ll get over it.”
“Now, Kayla, that wasn’t nice at all. You could’ve said you miss me a little.”
“I bought all those other dogs.”
“Other? You didn’t have a—You mean me.”
“I’ve never seen anyone who went such places as you chose.”
“I was curious. It wasn’t for long.”
“I doubt it I must go. Have I replied to all your questions?”
“You aren’t out watching the games. I miss you in the bleachers.”
In surprise, she did gasp but then she’d said flippantly, “I’m busy.”
“Who’re you busy—with?”
“The Davies are having their annual picnic. I’m helping get it organized.”
“It was fun last year. Since I’m—was married to you, do I get to go this year?”
“No.”
He had coaxed, “We had a good time last year.”
“How nice.”
“Let’s have coffee tomorrow. I’ll come by your office and get you.”
She wasn’t encouraging. “I’ll be busy.”
“Not...that...busy. We need to talk.”
“My other phone’s ringing. Take care.”
And she’d hung up.
Oddly enough, the stiff, aloof exchange had made Tyler exuberant! It was the first time she’d talked to him in a long while!
His counterself had said a sour: Goody.
And he’d replied to his counterself, Well, we exchanged words. Those were the first exchanged words that weren’t about divorce!
In spite of his counterself, Tyler had gone to bed that night with a smile. His dreams had been erotic. He’d been faithful. He had dreams. He wakened with the stimulation. And he lay and wondered if that hungry body of hers dreamed like his. His sex was named Godzilla. Yeah. He’d done the naming at age fourteen. Half his lifetime ago.
At the office, since his divorce, he referred to Barbara as Miss Nelson...relentlessly.
She told him, “You needn’t be so formal.”
He smiled at her and replied, “I’m being formal. You’re my boss. To call you by your name would sound pushy.”
“I don’t mind...pushy.”
“It isn’t businesslike and respectful.” He was adamant. So he went right on calling Barbara, Miss Nelson.
For a while she sassed back by calling Tyler, Mr. Fuller. But he accepted that term with a slight, serious nod. So she went back to calling him Tyler.
If Barbara had been any younger she would have torn her hair. But she just waited.
For Tyler, her waiting was a whole lot like realizing a big spider knew where he was and was watching him from some crack in the wall. It was scary.
He shared that fear with Jamie.
Jamie said, “Tell me which crack, and I’ll take care of it for you.” Jamie said that not even looking up from his papers.
So Tyler told Barbara, “Jamie admires you.”
And she asked, “Jamie...who?”
Tyler blinked. She really didn’t know which man was Jamie. So Tyler was gentle. “We share an office. He’s Jamie Oliver. A fine lawyer. He looks at you with admiration.”
Barbara slitted her eyes and watched Tyler but she didn’t respond, so he went off. He could feel Barbara Nelson’s eyes under his clothes all the way down the hall. He shivered.
So then Barbara-who-was-now-referred-to-as-Miss Nelson met Tyler in the hall. She asked Tyler to lunch with her.
But he said earnestly, “I’ve a meeting with Kayla. She has a problem.”
He hadn’t even said thank you or looked directly at the woman. And he just went on off down the hall.
And he didn’t dare to look back to see if the prickles down his backside were actually from her lascivious stare.
He called Kayla at work and said, “If you have any sense of compassion at all, you’ll have lunch with me today. That barracuda who is Barbara Nelson has her eye on me.”
In a dead voice, his ex-wife said with no emphasis at all, “How exciting.”
“Don’t be nasty. You could help out a little. You owe me something.”
“I owe you something? I do not!”
“Kayla, you are the most compassionate woman I’ve ever known. I’m not asking you to come back home and get into my bed—” And the very idea of her doing that ruined his breathing. He was silent.
She sighed into the mouthpiece and said, “Okay. This once.”
He left his office early to avoid walking out with Miss Nelson...and having her glued to him for the lunch hour...with Kayla. No way.
At the bank, Tyler went to Kayla’s office before she was ready to leave it, and he sat patiently in the waiting room until Kayla came to fetch him.
Kayla groused, “Everybody in the building knows you’re here! They all think we’re bonding. This has got to be the last time I see you.”
“Why?”
And Kayla sighed with great patience and reminded Tyler, “We’re divorced!”
He told her logically, “We married because there is a bond between us. WE understand each other—”
“Oh, no, we don’t!”
“—most of the time.” He had continued. “You tend to be more structured in your conduct and not open to new ideas—”
“I will not see you again!”
“—but we are friends.” He finished his words.
Kayla was positive, “No. We are not.”
With legal logic, Tyler was firm. “We were friends in our marriage. And we were lovers. I want to continue the friendship.”
She scoffed, “You want a shield. You can’t handle one woman, much less two.”
Their argument continued all the way down the street and into the restaurant, through the line as they chose what they wanted, to their table and all the way through their lunch. It was like old times. What else can a woman expect from a lawyer? He argues all the time!
Tyler cheerfully walked Kayla back to her building. He would have escorted her to her desk, but she was firm that he did not.
So that night at the park’s baseball diamond, Tyler batted in two runs. He was thrown out both times. But the team cheered the runs. At least Tyler had helped somebody else make it to home plate.
But Kayla wasn’t in the bleachers. He looked. He watched. He almost missed a ball. He settled down, accepted that she wasn’t there and he played baseball.
At the office, at that time, Tyier’s primary concern was drafting the contracts for a hospital, which was buying out a doctor’s private medical practice. This was done under Miss Nelson’s watch. The hospital would put the doctor on their payroll as a full-time employee. The hospital would bill the patients, and the doctor would rotate with the other doctors in being available on night call and weekends.
While it was interesting to Tyler, he felt some hesitancy for the doctor. However, he was again impressed with Miss Nelson’s ability and knowledge. She was a superior mentor.
She scared him spitless.
The contract would take about a week to finalize the draft to present to the hospital for their input. Somebody at the firm would meet with the hospital authorities to agree on the final version.
The hospital would then present the contract to the doctor, who would consult his own lawyer. His lawyer could make suggestions for changes. After that was done, she would return the contract to the hospital.
The hospital then might or might not agree to the changes. And they would have to have a meeting. If there were no changes they could sign the contract. If there were changes and the hospital agreed with them or the parties agreed with some modification, they would ask the law firm to include the modified changes into the contract. Then it would be ready for execution.
The entire process was interesting to Tyler. He found it stimulating to smooth people’s problems and help them. His mind worked differently from nonlegal minds. He always considered ramifications.
He had decided against being a candidate for any local or federal political office. He had given the idea thoughtful consideration. A political career wasn’t for him. He was a home boy. But he could help a candidate. He’d help somebody he believed in.
And he found it was annoying that Kayla wasn’t there as his sounding board. She had taken that position since he’d first known her.
She’d taken other positions since then. Now her position was to be gone from him. What an irritating woman! Why couldn’t she be pliant and fascinated like she was supposed to be? Instead she was out of his life, on her own and not needing him around!
It was depressing to understand an ex-wife didn’t need him any longer. She adjusted well to being on her own. Actually, she wasn’t entirely. She and her dogs were sharing a place with Henrietta and her cats.
So one noon who should Tyler run into on the street but Henrietta! He smiled his smile of greeting women and didn’t look at her chest. He said, “Welt, how’s it going?”
Henrietta grinned. “Great! Thanks for getting me a new roomie.”
Sourly, Tyler replied, “I didn’t have anything at all to do with Kayla leaving me. I’m trying to get her back.”
“I don’t think she’d be interested.”
“We’ll see. How are the dogs and cats getting along?” And his eyes were cool as he waited for her reply.
But Henrietta said airily, “We got rid of the dogs before she even moved in. Most were prime dogs. They were snatched up. One of the prime ones went with his original owner! We couldn’t find where they’d stolen the other dogs.”
“I thought Kayla bought those dogs.”
“Oh, she did. And she got her money back. But the dogs had been stolen. Well, one hadn’t.”
Tyler frowned. “I didn’t know the dogs had been stolen.”
“Haven’t you ever seen the papers when the pit dogs are killed by an opponent, the pit people then drive through the city and just leave the dead dogs In an alley somewhere?”
“Poor dogs.”
“They use female dogs, in heat, to lure the male dogs away from the owners’ yards.”
“Females have always been a trial for males. Even dogs.”
Henrietta laughed, gave Tyler a casual wave and went on off down the street.
Tyler walked along to a café for lunch. He was deliberately alone. With a group a man can’t offer to sit down with a single woman. He needed a woman. Actually, he needed Kayla. Even going alone this way, he wasn’t really interested in finding another woman to be permanent. He wanted to talk and be listened to.
He went through the lunch line not seeing anyone he knew. The place was Nick’s. The owner was named Bob. The place had been Nick’s for something like thirty years. Tyler greeted Bob, didn’t see Tim wave to him and went to a table with one woman.
No rings. Not bad looking. Slender. Reading a book. She needed company.
Tyler inquired with courtesy, “Vacant?” And he indicated the chair across from her.
She looked up from her book to look only at the chair. She said, “Nobody’s around. You can have it.” And she went back to her book.
She didn’t say one word to Tyler. She didn’t even look at him. He felt like a ghost. Women looked at Tyler. He was always careful to only smile and never wink. Winking can get a man in trouble.
His table partner went on reading. He tried to see what the book was. Not a clue. He asked, “What’s the book about?”
She briefly looked up and said, “Huh?” But she instantly went back to the book.
That’s a put-off. So Tyler didn’t try for dialogue.
It was diminishing to have a book be more interesting than being a man like he was. He asked for the salt.
Blindly, she handed it to him from the middle of the small table. She didn’t look up from the book.
He pretended to salt everything without salting anything. He didn’t tilt the shaker but he moved his hand up and down as if he was salting it all. She never looked up. Then he put the shaker in the middle of the table. He asked, “Why is the book so interesting?”
“I’m on my lunch hour.”
Tyler narrowed his eyes. That was another put-off. She was on her lunch hour therefore she didn’t need to discuss anything with a stranger.
She ate and read. Tyler sat silently and ate. He looked around somewhat. No one was staring at him with knowledgeable sneers. People went on with their lives not needing to know what Tyler Fuller was doing or how he was doing or if he was deliberately being ignored by another indifferent woman.
It’s diminishing to realize no one really cares about a recently divorced man.
He remembered the sci-fi motion picture of The Shrinking Man. Tyler’s clothes still fit. He could sit on a chair. He wasn’t actually shrinking.
That was something to be thankful about. He drew a breath that was rather sad. She didn’t look up. A man could sigh that sadly and that heartless woman didn’t even have the courtesy to ask what was the matter. What was the world coming to?
So Tyler took the long way back to the office. He told Jamie, “I met a woman at lunch.”
Jamie never glanced up. He replied. “I saw her.”
Tyler silently sat down at his desk. Jamie had seen the reading woman who’d never even once looked at Tyler.
Tyler picked up some papers and began to read them for errors. He went back and began again. He finally actually began to read.
Three
One assignment, for Tyler, was research for a company that was considering leasing space in a shopping center, there in San Antonio. For their client, Tyler was to examine the proposal for loopholes in the lease. He would study what it took to terminate the contract if that should be needed.
Tyler would find what remedies there were if the lessor didn’t keep the stated promises. He would see whether the lessor cleaned and repaired the rented areas. And he would find how the rental fees compared with what the other tenants in the center paid, and how the rents there compared to those at other shopping centers.
Not only rents were compared, but also the fees the lessor charged for advertising the shopping center and what advertising media he used. And Tyler was to check if the parking lot was also attractive, neat, cared for and repaired.
Tyler would not be the one to negotiate the contract. That would be done by other lawyers in the firm who had more business experience. But Tyler would sit in on those negotiations and learn how it was done.
He was still in the “gofer” category. Just about everything he was assigned to do was a...learning experience.
And for all such research, Tyler reported to his superior, Barbara Nelson, whom he tenaciously called Miss Nelson. He asked a whole lot of questions of his office buddy, Jamie Oliver. Jamie had been there longer.
And there were times when Jamie replied, “You’ll have to ask Barb.”
“How can you call her Barb so carelessly?”
And Jamie who rarely looked up from his papers replied, “She doesn’t see me.”
Thoughtfully, Tyler suggested, “It’s probably because she hasn’t the nerve to attack you. She yearns for you and dreams of you.”
“I wish.”
And with some compassion for the ignored office mate, Tyler said, “She probably tries to lure me just to get your attention.”
That made Jamie laugh. He even glanced up. His eyes were dancing with lights of amusement.
Tyler thought of Jamie and wondered why Miss Nelson didn’t see the man. Maybe it was because Jamie never looked up but was so engrossed in law that Miss Nelson thought Jamie didn’t see her.
Kindly, Tyler advised, “You ought to spend more time out at the water cooler.”
“The staff gets too friendly.”
Tyler blinked once. Then he replied, “You’re too selective.”
“Want a date with a friend of mine who admires you?” Jamie again glanced at Tyler!
Tyler sighed and shook his head as he went back to his own papers.
Jamie told Tyler, “See? You, too, are selective. Mattie would spread her knees for you by the water cooler, she’s so smitten.”
“Who is this...Mattie? I’ve never heard of her.”
“That’s how Barb is with me. She can’t see me.”
And kindly, Tyler told Jamie, “She’s too old for you.”
“Two years. I taught for four years before I went to law school.”
And Tyler gasped, “You’re over thirty?” His voice even squeaked up.
“Yep. I’ve crossed the Great Divide.”
“Holy Moses.”
And Jamie agreed. “It’s awesome.”
“Have you told Miss Nelson how old you are?”
“She probably likes her men young and fresh.”
“I’ve been married!”
Jamie grinned, closemouthed, and bit his lower lip. That was to stop himself from commenting. And he immediately went back to work. But he was still irritatingly amused because he gently coughed a couple of times to hide his snorts of laughter.
So Barbara called Tyler to her office. And he had no choice. He went like a cat going into dog territory. He was alert, intense and very formal.
He didn’t jump up onto the top of the bookcases. He didn’t even sit. He said, “Yes?” And he earned a folder and a pencil.
Tyler wore the fake eyeglasses he’d taken up just recently. He had perfect sight and the glasses were only regular glass. He thought they made him look more aloof, unapproachable and withdrawn.
He looked young.
Barbara smiled and said, “I’ll need the folder on the Bennett’s lease tomorrow. Are you finished with it?”
Tyler’s heart was in his mouth. She would ask him to stay after hours. She had a leather couch in her office. He was vulnerable. What would he say?
Barbara went on, “Molly can’t stay tonight, so you won’t have a typist available. As I recall, you have a computer at home? You can take the brief home and get it done there. I’ll come by between nine and ten and collect it then. Okay?”
She was going to come to his apartment! There was no out. Tyler very seriously nodded—once.
Barbara smiled and said, “See you then.” And she returned to the papers on her desk.
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Lass Small
MISSION: (RE)MARRIAGE He might be an ornery son of a gun, but never let it be said Tyler Fuller didn't love his wife. Well, ex-wife, since he'd presented her with an ultimatum she'd shockingly accepted. Now this hotheaded hubby was darned tired of spending the long, cold nights alone, so he vowed to win her back!His mission should have been as simple as the first time he'd convinced Kayla to say "I do." After all, they'd jumped right from the bedroom and marched straight down the wedding aisle. But Tyler was gonna have to learn a few things about his self-improved former bride. Like how Kayla wanted to take things slow… and just how good slow could be!
“Maybe We Ought To Have A Kid,” (#ub4313edb-6f7e-58df-9e13-cda6dd1f0913)Letter to Reader (#u0f76be7d-5bf5-5309-a117-fba279763883)Title Page (#u89d60bbf-fc78-54ea-b59d-2aee61377a34)About the Author (#u5f821460-075b-510e-abb8-e7c8068c9792)Chapter One (#u2032afb2-ff14-5854-9661-76fe1568d8e7)Chapter Two (#uf62091c8-cd22-5b0f-99fc-be4521373be8)Chapter Three (#uc4f650dd-bd5d-53c2-862c-c4cd59e047d9)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“Maybe We Ought To Have A Kid,”
Tyler suggested thoughtfully.
Kayla was startled. “We’re divorced. Children should have two parents.”
“I’d be around enough.”
Kayla scoffed. “Mostly gone.”
“Now, Kayla, you wouldn’t want me to quit working and hang around the house....”
Again she mentioned, “We are divorced.”
“You’re an old-fashioned girl.”
“I’m a current woman, and I am single. There is no way, at all, that I’d take on having a kid in this position. I’m not that careless.”
He sighed into the phone. “So. I suppose we ought to be married.”
“No thank you. We’ve tried that.” And she hung up.
Dear Reader,
The celebration of Silhouette Desire’s 15th anniversary continues this month! First, there’s a wonderful treat in store for you as Ann Major continues her fantastic CHILDREN OF DESTINY series with November’s MAN OF THE MONTH, Nobody’s Child. Not only is this the latest volume in this popular miniseries, but Ann will have a Silhouette Single Title, also part of CHILDREN OF DESTINY, in February 1998, called Secret Child. Don’t miss either one of these unforgettable love stories.
BJ James’s popular BLACK WATCH series also continues with Journey’s End, the latest installment in the stories of the men—and the women—of the secret agency.
This wonderful lineup is completed with delicious love stories by Lass Small, Susan Crosby, Eileen Wilks and Shawna Delacorte. And next month, look for six more Silhouette Desire books, including a MAN OF THE MONTH by Dixie Browning!
Desire...it’s the name you can trust for dramatic, sensuous, engrossing stories written by your bestselling favorites and terrific newcomers. We guarantee handsome heroes, likable heroines...and happily-ever-after endings. So read, and enjoy!
Senior Editor
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How To Win (Back) A Wife
Lass Small
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
LASS SMALL finds living on this planet at this time a fascinating experience People are amazing. She thinks that to be a teller of tales of people, places and things is absolutely marvelous.
One
It is now over five hundred years since TEXAS was first occupied by Europeans. The city of San Antonio has been altered and fooled with and adjusted. The downtown river is so lovely that it’s been embellished and funneled into more loops.
The riverboat rides are especially nice. You get to see all the old trees, the clean water and the preserved buildings along the way.
One of those riverside buildings, by a handy iron curlicued bridge, harbors the law firm of Reardon, Miller and Rodriguez. The building was renovated inside, but the outside was preserved. The exterior was all painted subtly in a blue-tinted gray and the results are elegant.
Handily, the firm’s office isn’t far from the red granite Bexar County Courthouse. The red granite is the same granite that was used in Austin for the State Capitol. San Antonio has always been a little pushy.
The Bexar of Bexar County is pronounced “bear.” Of course, in a long-ago motion picture that can still be seen on cable TV, Errol Flynn called the county “Bex-ar.” Hearing that, the San Antonio people’s eyes flinched and still do.
One of the Reardon, Miller and Rodriguez firm was Tyler Fuller. As a twenty-eight-year-old lawyer, he was a new rooster. He couldn’t yet crow. He was again single.
The Fullers had been divorced for seven months, three weeks and two days. Tyler Fuller was not keeping track, he just happened to recall the time. After all, it had been he who had instigated the divorce.
It had stilled him with shock when the dark-haired, blue-eyed Kayla had discarded his name and gone back to her maiden name of Davie. She did that as if she’d wiped out everything about Tyler Fuller.
Kayla acted like there’d never been any good times—she hadn’t seemed at all grieved to part from him. She’d flipped away like he’d never meant anything to her, at all.
When she got snippy and cold, and then moved out, he’d countered with the divorce. She hadn’t turned a hair.
His parents, his siblings, his friends, even his kindergarten buddies all knew he was nuts.
Disgruntled, Tyler thought at least Kayla could have protested the divorce. She could have at least leaked a tear or two and looked at him with regret.
Tyler clearly remembered being in a group, not long after their divorce. He remembered having found her in the crowd and with casual élan he’d joined the segment which contained his ex-wife. With some assumed control, he’d used the excuse to be by her side by introducing Tom Keeper to her. Tom’s family owned a chunk of West TEXAS.
Tyler had named Kayla as Kayla Fuller, and she’d given Tyler a glance as she’d corrected, “My last name’s Davie.”
Of course, her saying that had made Tom Keeper smile. Tom had been a male TEXAS predator of females since he was six months old. Everybody knew that. And after the introduction, Kayla had treated Tom as if he was harmless.
That just proved to Tyler that she needed some sort of chaperone. At twenty-five, she was a babe in the woods.
No normal woman would treat Tom like he wasn’t dangerous. Any half-brained woman would have immediately known the real Tom Keeper’s knuckles dragged on the floor and his pointed teeth dripped hot saliva.
It was just a good thing Tyler never left her side that night. He’d even told Tom that Kayla was still his as soon as she recognized that simple fact. Tom was not to foul up the works. Did he understand?
Tom had laughed. But he had gone on off...that night.
Tyler had known Kayla now for over four years. They were married not quite two years. And of the two years, they’d been divorced for seven months, three weeks and two days...exactly.
Just because they were divorced, she hadn’t said anything about their second anniversary. No card. No call. Nothing.
At the time, he’d courteously called so that she could thank him for the flowers. She hadn’t answered her phone until after eleven. Where had she been on their anniversary? Grieving for their lost marriage, drinking rot gut in some sleazy bar?
Kayla was not a drinker. At best, she’d have two small glasses of wine in maybe three months. She wasn’t any kind of drinker.
Where had she been on the night of their second anniversary?
He hadn’t asked. He’d hinted several times, but he hadn’t out and out asked. Actually, he’d pushed. She hadn’t noticed.
They hadn’t talked long on the phone. She’d been in a hurry. And she’d never once mentioned the milestone day. Of course, they were divorced. Even so, it seemed to Tyler that she should have remembered it had been two years since their wedding.
She hadn’t been very open with him. When he’d finally talked to her that night, she’d asked, “Now what’s the matter?”
And he’d said, “I just called to say—hello.”
“It’s after eleven, and I have to get to work early. Goodbye.”
And she’d hung up! She had! On their second anniversary! It was probably a good thing they were already divorced.
Women are insensitive. It was always the man who bought the woman flowers, smoothed things between them and took the woman out to eat. And just because the eatery wasn’t an Indiana Casa D’angelo! or a Café Johnell, she’d slide her eyes around the place and her face would be pinched.
Kayla wasn’t at all sophisticated. She had no notion as to how she ought to act. Once she’d gotten up from the table and just flat out left a place. It was after a guy had slid off the bar stool and lay on the floor... ignored by the staff. But the staff was behind the bar, and he had been short. The bartender probably thought the guy had left.
Kayla had never considered the atmosphere—other than to bury her nose in a lace-edged handkerchief. Tyler had tried to expand her experiences, but she was too limited. She did not accept variations.
How could a sixth-generation TEXAS woman be so unknowing? She wasn’t a delicate Easterner, she was a solid TEXAS woman!
Tyler picked up the phone and punched the redial. It rang in his ear twenty-four times. He hung up eventually. She probably was asleep and had turned off the bell. No curiosity. She just lived her life in a vacuum.
Kayla really never did bend enough. She never had. Like the dogfights. That night they’d found a gathering and stopped to see what it was. It was a dogfight and he was curious. He’d said to her, “Just a minute.”
It wasn’t long before Tyler frowned and turned to say they’d leave.
She was gone.
In that brief time, she’d vanished. She’d bought four of the dogs at a staggering price and left the place, taking them with her. There had been no room for him in his car with her and the four dogs, and without consulting him, she’d just...driven away!
Tyler was ticked. She’d abandoned him in that obnoxious place!
He’d had a couple of offers for rides, but the women had looked dangerous, so he’d walked.
At a public phone, he’d dialed the sheriffs office to alert him to the dogfights. By the time he got home, he was calm.
Kayla was asleep. Deep in their throats, the four dogs had growled a warning at him. None barked. They might waken her. Tyler had slept on the living-room sofa.
When he’d wakened the next morning, Kayla was gone. Gone. None of her clothes were in their closet. She’d moved out. She had taken the dogs.
She blamed him for the dogfights? That irritated him. She could have waited and listened. He was ticked.
Tyler had walked around. The apartment was silent. Even with all the furniture, the place was empty.
So he’d called at her parents’ house. Obviously Kayla had contacted them with her side of the breakup. Her mother had said to Tyler, “Hello, dear. You’ve thrown it all at the fan.”
Her mother was that way. She said outrageous things but she altered the words for politeness. Her mother was why Kayla was the way she was.
Kayla’s dad was an observer. Although Mrs. Davie was open and clear, Mr. Davie was quiet, probably suspicious, and watched. That time he’d said to Tyler, “You goofed.”
And Tyler had replied, “Not entirely.”
As time passed, Tyler tried to get in touch with his wife, but she was never there. Her car was gone. No matter when he’d go past the Davie house, her car wasn’t there. And she never answered the phone. The cook, Goldilocks, or her parents said, “I’m not sure where she is right now. I’ll tell her you called.”
So he had the divorce papers served. He’d thought that would stir her up.
She signed them.
Before Tyler knew what was really happening, he was divorced. Uncontested.
He got all the furniture except for the several pieces of antiques that had been in the Davie family for all eternity. She’d picked out their furniture. It was okay. Discreet. He’d have had the upholstery more colorful.
When he wasn’t there, she’d come to their apartment and collected the rest of her things. But she’d left all of her keys.
There is nothing more irritating and deflating than a woman who won’t fight to keep a man.
With all that furniture as his, his mother refused to have him back home, even briefly, so that he could heal. He had to stay where he was. But he didn’t heal.
There wasn’t a day dragged by that he wasn’t aware Kayla wasn’t there. She’d be back. She had a hungry body. She was ethereal. Pure. She wouldn’t sleep around. He was her only partner in sex. She loved his body. She’d be back, and he’d explain.
He’d kept the place clean for seven months, three weeks and two days, waiting for her to open the door with her key and fling herself into his waiting arms.
No key. She’d left them all on the dining-room table. She didn’t plan to...ever...come back.
She wouldn’t even call him.
She never answered her phone. Just her mother. Or her father. Or one of her sisters. Or Goldilocks who ruled the Davie household but was supposed to just be the cook.
All of them just said Kayla wasn’t there.
So...where was she?
They never knew.
She’d been abducted by aliens. No. There wasn’t anything he could do about rescuing her from aliens in star ships. How about slave snatchers?
He’d go out in his cousin Wally’s boat and chase down the bigger boat and rescue all the captives. But like Scan Connery in the film, Tyler would put Kayla into a rowboat and they’d drift away. He’d show her how they’d made love. She liked sex.
Kayla loved him.
When would she remember that?
When would her hungry body go on overdrive and force her to come back to him? She’d kick open the door, come inside and stand, looking at him with greed in her eyes. Her uncontrolled breasts would be heaving with her desire as her hot eyes would rake over him mercilessly. Yeah.
Then he found out she wasn’t living at her parents’ house, she was with a friend. She and those dogs. Henrietta was certainly a tolerant woman. She had cats.
Cats—and dogs who had been rescued from a fighting pit? That must be distracting. Who acted as umpire during the day when the humans were gone?
Kayla would come back to him.
He could handle dogs. He could handle women. He could handle her. Man! How he’d like handling her again. And he about went berserk at the very idea of it.
He always looked for her no matter where he was going. San Antonio wasn’t that big. There were just over a million people. Eventually, he would get to run into her and then he’d exclaim, “I’m so sorry! Oh. Haven’t we met?” And he’d laugh in his throat in the way that turned her on.
But he never once saw her. And he figured that she was grieving. She missed him so badly that she couldn’t go out anywhere at all. She was zonked.
No other woman drew his eyes. He’d thought to date some classy babe and make Kayla jealous. But he couldn’t. He looked at the laughing women and at their bodies, but none of them was Kayla. So he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He could see no other woman. And he sighed.
His friends dragged him to different places where things would be mixed up and interesting. He was bored. He wandered around with an empty glass, and even knowing he wouldn’t find her, he looked for Kayla.
There were men who mentioned, “Saw Kayla at the boxing match. She was on the first row and she was really involved.”
Unbelievingly, Tyler’s voice squeaked up as he exclaimed, “At a boxing match? She was there?”
The guy laughed. “Yeah. She’s physical.”
That froze Tyler’s heart. How...physical had she been...with who all?
So the TEXAS winter came along. That’s a whole lot like the Yankee spring. But in their winter, the thin blooded TEXANS put on jackets and complained about the cold.
It had snowed twice in Tyler’s twenty-eight years. One of those times the snow had lasted two whole days before the TEXAS winter warmed enough to melt the miracle.
The native TEXANS said, “I don’t understand those Yankees who winter down here. Those Winter TEXANS. They complain so about the northern snow! It’s such a surprise and so pretty! How come the Yankees come down here instead of staying up yonder and enjoying the miracle?”
Now, how was a Winter TEXAN supposed to reply to that?
And for Tyler, time did pass. He worked hard at his office. When he was out, he found he could catch a glimpse of Kayla now and again. Or someone who might have been she. Someone who walked like Kayla...who wasn’t. Several times in those months, he’d run after a woman and then awkwardly apologized.
One of those mistakes had grinned and waited for him to make some move to know her. But Tyler’s disappointment had been such that he couldn’t see the woman as a woman. She just wasn’t Kayla.
Tyler Fuller was a lawyer. The firm Reardon, Miller and Rodriguez had about fifty lawyers downtown. There were branches of the firm in other locations.
Tyler was in an awesome firm in which he was just a growing mushroom. He was under a woman lawyer who was only eight years older than he. She was Barbara Nelson. And she was not married. Not that marriage would have slowed her down any.
Barbara’s secretary handed out work and some was given to Tyler. A buck slip or a route slip was on the document for information.
Through her secretary, Barbara Nelson had Tyler drafting documents, writing briefs, handling the background for labor disputes, Social Security disability petitions and interviews with clients or opponents.
All the problems were run-of-the-mill except for the persons involved. The problems could be divorce, bankruptcy, or pretrial motions or interviews with prospective witnesses.
Some days, Tyler might have to go to the police station and check files, or see doctors who had pro or con evidence. Tyler was busy.
His secretary was from the firm’s pool. And he tried always to get Marian Web because she was so brilliant that she never made a mistake nor did she allow him to make any. She was his mother’s age and tolerant of Tyler. That was clear when she adjusted her commitments so that she could mostly help Tyler.
Women spoiled him rotten.
Well, some women.
His immediate boss, Barbara Nelson, was thirty-six years old. She was a single woman who had control, and she was in charge. She was confident, selective, and she was blunt. She didn’t chew tobacca. That was a plus.
Tyler had no real qualms about her until his divorce. Then, once, the Nelson woman had patted his bottom! He’d been offended.
She’d always smiled at Tyler and watched his body when he was walking toward her. His sex loved it. His brain was offended. But she hadn’t approached him until just after his divorce.
She’d say, “Let’s have a drink after work.”
He’d ask, “Is this important? There’s batting practice.” Tyler was on the legals’ baseball team. And she wouldn’t find out if what he said was true. That’s why he’d never used the excuse of a business appointment. She could check it out.
With his baseball-used rejection, Barbara had smiled and told him, “Since we work together, I just thought it would be nice...to get acquainted.”
He lied to her with great grief-stricken eyes, “I’m going to a shrink. I can’t handle this divorce.”
So Barbara had half lowered her eyelids as she said, “Let me know when you’re more...open.”
His sex bulged, his back shivered and his throat clacked as he said, “Yes.” And he got away.
Again Tyler had lied. He had no notion of ever getting involved with that woman. She terrified him. And he began to understand the slender woman in the secretary pool who wore high neck, bulky clothes and no makeup and kept her face blank and serious with her eyes downcast.
It was only then Tyler realized—what was her name? It was Martha. Martha never said one word. She had to’ve talked some time. But she had no casual or friendly chatter to share.
He went to Martha and told her, “Help me. Pretend you and I are a couple. No! I promise I’ll leave you alone. I’m just divorced. I don’t want any ties. Pretend we’re good friends.”
“Leave me alone.”
That’s what she said.
And she didn’t wait until he replied. Martha was brief and finished. She’d said it all.
Tyler was out on a raft in a dangerous sea and no one but the sharks were aware of him.
Even men have it rough. That was a revealing and startling observation. Up until then, Tyler had thought men had it all. That men controlled the world and their own lives as they chose. How the world... changes.
Tyler didn’t have a whole lot of trouble in seeming to be solemn. He simply didn’t laugh. He didn’t join the groups that stood and chatted. He kept to himself, harboring, nurturing his grief.
So John Reardon, who was the Big Gun of the Firm, called Tyler into his office. That was a shock. Tyler’s mind went over everything he’d done and wondered where he’d fouled up.
He was on time at Mr. Reardon’s appointment. He sat in the outer office, and the secretary smiled at him. She said, “We don’t see much of you anymore.”
He looked at her...her name was Nancy. He said, “Yeah.”
“Mr. Reardon will be free in a minute. He just wants to know if you’re okay. You used to be so funny. Since your divorce, you’ve gotten so quiet that we all worry about you.”
She was kind to tell him why he was there. A whole lot of knots loosened in his body and he could relax a little. But he didn’t smile. Fortunately, he’d been so panicked that he didn’t yet smile. So he could control it.
Nancy said, “All of us are worried about you. I thought we ought to have a party for you. A freedom party, now that you’re single again. But Mr. Reardon said, ‘Not yet.’ So we’ll wait until you can enjoy it...too.” She grinned at him.
His smile was a little sick. In an office as big as theirs was, how could any one of them have the time to notice somebody like him? It was touching in a way, but it made Tyler feel as if he was on a stage, alone...without a script.
He’d never realized anyone in the firm had noticed him. Other than his boss, Barbara Nelson.
He’d lived in a secure niche of anonymity while he was married. Now, divorced, he was loose and vulnerable. He began to understand women who were in the same slot he was in then. He understood Martha’s bundled-up clothing and her lack of animation.
His meeting with Mr. Reardon was longer than necessary. Tyler had work to do. He was a little restless.
“I know how you feet,” Mr. Reardon told Tyler. “I’ve been where you are now. It’s been some years ago, but that doesn’t soften such a happening. I know just exactly what you’re going through.”
So Mr. Reardon got to go through it all again. It was too much. As empathetic as the top gun was, Tyler was busy. He had work to do. No two situations are ever the same. No one knows what another suffers. Mr. Reardon had had an affair, and his first wife had found out.
Tyler had had no affair. All that he’d done was to try to expand Kayla’s knowledge of adventures. She’d misunderstood, been ungrateful and stubborn. Women are a great nuisance.
There is no substitute for women.
That was a very sobering realization. A man married, and that was it! He had a partner for life. To have and to hold. And she’d wiggled away from him and was gone!
Then Tyler heard that Mr. Reardon was saying with a sigh, “It happens. You’ll get through this in time. We’re all backing you. Chin up!”
And Tyler was touched. Whatever the big man had been saying, he meant to help. Tyler rose and stood tall. “Thank you, sir.”
Mr. Reardon inquired kindly, “You sure you don’t want a couple of days off?”
“No, sir.” Tyler was startled. Had the old man been trying to give him some time off? He said earnestly, “I’d like to get things done.” Then he added gently, “Mother says a man needs distraction. Law is surely that.”
“Yes, my boy. You’re a good man.” Reardon nodded in agreement with his words. “I’m glad we have you with us. If there’s ever any problem, just let us help.”
“Thank you, sir.” And Tyler was surprised to find his eyes were moist.
It got worse when Mr. Reardon stood up and came around the desk to put an arm over Tyler’s shoulders. “I’m glad we had this talk. Remember, you’re one of us.”
Really touched, Tyler almost choked on his emotions. “Thank you, sir.”
“I’m here, my boy. Anytime.”
And he escorted Tyler to the door where they shook hands.
Imagine that. Tyler walked unseeing down the corridor. Just imagine that whole place being aware of one little, wet-eared lawyer. He was brilliant, of course, but not everyone of the firm had that knowledge, as yet.
He went back to his desk and sat down in the shared office.
His office mate was Jamie Oliver. Jamie asked, “Everything go okay?”
And Tyler swung his chair around and said with the amazement he felt, “The old man wanted to know if I’m okay.”
“You foul up something? How can I help?”
And Tyler laughed. But he was again touched. Even Jamie was on his side. Not even competitive! He just asked to help. And Tyler’s eyes got wet again.
Jamie got up and came over very seriously to lean down. “What is it?”
“They wanted to help me get through this problem with Kayla. It’s been a while. They thought I needed help. I turned down a drink with Nelson.”
Jamie frowned at Tyler. “That was rash. I’d jump at any chance like that.”
Tyler laughed. “‘You’re a better man than I, Gunga Din.”’
“I know.” And Jamie walked back to his chair, sat, rolled his chair in to his desk and was immediately absorbed in the papers.
That evening with his parents, Tyler told his dad about the firm’s head honcho. “I was surprised. It never occurred to me anyone else would understand.”
“We all understand,” his dad assured his son. “Have you seen the darlin’ lately?”
Well, Tyler surely knew Kayla was the “darlin’” mentioned. And he was a little irritated to have her called a darling. She was the one who’d left him. A bit stilted, Tyler replied, “No.”
His father sighed rather too heavily and lamented, “How did you let her get away?”
And, unfortunately, Tyler snapped, “I was only trying to educate her and—” But he didn’t get to explain.
His father looked up at his own son in aghast shock! “You hurt her?”
“No! Good gravy, Dad! I took her to see what had garnered such a crowd and found out there was a dogfight! I’d never seen one and thought she would be curious, too.”
And his father’s face changed from alarm to indignation. “You took that fragile flower to a dogfight?” His voice squeaked up rather remarkably. “They’re illegal.”
And with seriousness, Tyler went on. “I know that. I’ve contacted the state police. I’ve offered to be a witness.” He was deadly. “She was not frightened. She bought four of the dogs and put them in the car. I had to walk home!”
His father stared for the count of three, then his closed mouth stretched out, his body began to jiggle and after that the laughter rolled.
Tyler stood trying to get in some logical, adult information. But with the hilarity of his father’s misguided sense of humor, Tyler finally gave up. He left his parents’ house, slammed the door, shaking the entire, bulky structure, and went to his own apartment.
Then he went back for his car and drove it to the apartment. He turned off the phone bell and in spite of his lengthy walk to retrieve his car, he had one hell of a time trying to calm down and sleep that night.
Now, how and why was it that everyone in the sprawled-out city of the diversified San Antonio learned what that Fuller family conversation had been? Guess.
Even the whisperings and giggles and guffaws at the office were to be endured. In just a couple of days, look at the turnaround of the whole layout of his life...from compassion to hilarity.
Tyler was sober, businesslike and he ignored the snorts of laughter. The only one who showed any sympathy, at all, was his office mate, Jamie.
Jamie said, “Sometime, when you can handle it, I’ll tell you what happened to me. But from my own experience, I can give you this—you’ll live. Ignore the pack. They have little sunlight in their lives. You’ve given them this magic moment.” Jamie never looked up from his computer. His voice was moderate. He did not laugh.
Oddly, the joke on Tyler eased all the firm people’s acquired facade. What had happened to Tyler was worse than most of what had happened to them. Such a public put-down as he’d had made Tyler vulnerable. And they all understood vulnerability.
But it made his boss, Barbara Nelson, eager to soothe Tyler.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
He complained to Jamie.
Jamie said, “She can soothe me.”
Distracted, irritated, Tyler said, “I’ll tell her.”
“Get my name right. She calls me Johnny.”
So Tyler explained her mistake. “People in control of many others have some difficulty with names.”
“She sure as hell knows yours.”
“I’m divorced, so I’m not a wet-nosed kid. She expects me to know the ropes?”
Jamie smiled. He licked his lips and put his lower lip under his teeth but he didn’t reply or embellish anything.
He made Tyler laugh.
What a time it was. His longing for Kayla. His adjustment at the office. The adjustment of the coworkers to him. Their now knowing who he was because of all the problems he was having. And it was all because of one woman. Kayla. Kayla Davie who chose to discard Tyler’s name.
That Kayla Davie Fuller was due a set down. Any woman her age ought to be more pliant than she was. She acted as if she had all her life to find a good man. One better than Tyler.
What man was better than he?
Two
Especially in big cities, there are little sections or groups of people who are isolated by their jobs or interests or kinship. Each segment believes they are The City. They’re the important ones. It’s mental territory.
It is solely for them that the city puts on the park festivals, the food tastings, the bands playing and the marching parades. It is all done only for their segment’s own entertainment.
The other people who are there are just phantom people.
The actual citizens who live among friends hardly ever even see the phantoms who are busily involved in their own lives and their own groups. Well, they don’t see them unless some hungry eyes are looking for someone of the opposite sex. Then they see everybody!
But mostly a group sees only those in their own group, and they ignore the many others who are all unseen shadows. The phantom ones drive cars and walk streets and go to grocery stores and to their cleaners.
The phantoms are like elevator background music. They are there to fill in the edges of lives so that no one believes he’s alone. The phantoms are busy with things to be done.
So are those busy people who think they are so special that the world is really just theirs. To those who believe they are the ones in control, the world is for them. Simple. That is true. But all the segments of people think that way. It is their own group that is the important, vibrant, needed one.
For those isolated, self-contained groups, the strangers’ houses might just as well be empty. The unknowns’ offices are blank. The other people in the restaurants don’t county. Not unless you’re looking and then those strange ones are real but unknown others.
Few people think about all those unknown others who live in the city and move about. They don’t really matter unless they get into some kind of trouble. Then everybody helps. Helping isn’t thought out, it is reaction.
Such thinking was just so, for those who were involved with Tyler and Kayla.
Their friends and kinfolk talked to each other about the divorced pair. At a remote family wake, one cousin of Tyler’s mother said of the divorced pair, “I do declare I’ve never seen any couple so hostile to each other. Even Cousin Douthet didn’t carry on this badly. I’ve no patience with the two of them.”
“Hush! Tyler is right over there, and he can hear you!”
The cousin pinched her mouth as she lifted her eyebrows and looked down without moving her head. “Listening to me just might do him some good.”
And at her side, a male voice inquired softly, “What would you say to him?”
It was Tyler himself who spoke. So his mother’s Cousin Maren replied, “You ought to’ve been talking to that child, all along. She’s a Davie, and you let her get away from you!”
“I wasn’t there when she left.” Well, he was asleep...on the sofa in the living room. But he had the audacity to add, “I had no choice.”
And Cousin Maren replied, “Once I left Hebert!” She raised staying hands and turned her head aside. Although no one said anything, Cousin Maren held up her hands as if they’d all gasped and protested such an act. She went on: “And Hebert came to Daddy’s house and said, ‘You get her out here as quick as you can!”’
Tyler inquired, “And, did your daddy do that?”
“No.”
So Tyler asked, “What’d Cousin Hebert do?”
“He came into my room and said to me, ‘Get your things together, woman, I’ve used up my patience with you.’”
“He said that?” It was Tyler, himself, who exclaimed. Of course, Tyler had heard her husband’s version so he was interested in this one.
And Cousin Maren replied, “I stood firm and lifted my chin.” She showed them how she’d done that. “And I pointed to my doorway and told Hebert, ‘Leave here.’ But he would not.
“I finally had to go down and open the front door for him. He then picked me up and carried me to his car. My daddy tried to help me, but Hebert wouldn’t allow that.”
Tyler was the only new listener. All the others had heard Cousin Maren’s version, in its varieties, for some time, by then.
And with some unkind humor, Tyler asked, “Did you ever escape again?”
Cousin Maren sighed and looked off sadly. “I never managed. Hebert is such a determined man.”
So Tyler offered, “I’ll come help you the next time.”
There were coughs that covered the listeners’ shocked hilarity.
But then Maren looked up at Tyler, and he saw that she was not loved as she wanted. Hebert had never cherished her as she’d needed. So she had made up what she wanted.
With earnest compassion, Tyler told his mother’s cousin, “He was lucky your daddy couldn’t stop him, and he got you back. You’re a jewel.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and Tyler hugged her.
As she leaned into his arms, the old lady asked, “How could Kayla ever have left you?” And she looked up at Tyler’s eyes with such remorse.
The odd thing about that little vignette was that it didn’t just joggle Tyler’s understanding, but it surprised the watchers who’d never before realized Cousin Maren was so vulnerable. It made them all think and, after that, they were kinder to her.
But the experience touched Tyler. He’d been deliberately pushing the edge with the old lady. He was acting that way to amuse the watchers. How strange to realize the old cousin wasn’t a joke; she was human and she needed attention.
So Tyler searched the noisy crowd out to find Cousin Hebert and told him very seriously, “Your wife needs some civil attentions from you. You need to admire her and hold her hand and be kind.”
Cousin Hebert squinted his eyes at Tyler and asked, “What all’ve you been drinking, boy? I want some of that.”
Tyler became very serious and settled in to educate the eighty-one-year-old cousin, in women. Tyler was earnest and kind.
Cousin Hebert protested, “I’m too old for that stuff, boy! I can’t even get up on a horse no more.”
Earnestly, Tyler coaxed, “You can share the sunset with her. You can see to it that she’s comfortable. You can buy her something little, and you can give her a rose—”
But after a while, Hebert just asked, “How long since your wife left you?”
Sadly, Tyler said, “Too long.”
And Cousin Hebert said, “How come she left?”
“Damned if I know.”
“I guess you wasn’t doing something you ought to’ve been doing?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
And Cousin Hebert suggested, “Ask her.”
With great sadness, Tyler told the old man, “I haven’t been able to get in touch with her.”
But Cousin Hebert said, “Maybe you ought to try harder?”
“I suppose.”
It’s strange how events turn around and can be viewed from another angle. While Tyler didn’t budge Cousin Hebert one quarter inch, Tyler was budged into finding out why Kayla hadn’t come back to him. She had not only avoided him, she hadn’t even spoken to him.
Why had she so carefully made herself unavailable to him? That was the part that hurt Tyler so terribly. She no longer wanted to see him. That made his feeling of self-worth fade.
He wasn’t a...hero anymore. He was just a man.
About the only thing that kept Tyler Fuller going was the baseball team. It had been organized by the legal firms there in San Antonio. From among the various firms, they had rival teams. There were a whole lot of snide comments about lawyers playing baseball.
Even the lawyers said those kind of things to one another.
And one of the first problems was when the women lawyers and secretaries and receptionists had insisted on playing baseball with the men. It hadn’t worked. The men used different bats and the baseballs were hard. So the female players gradually moved to playing separate games.
And last season the women in the Reardon firm won the area’s legal cup. And the male segment of the firm scored second...to last.
However, being enlightened, the men set up an elegantly structured table in the lobby of their building and put the women’s cup on the table with a spotlight. The table was exactly the right size to show off the cup. It wasn’t too small or skimpy and it wasn’t humongous to overwhelm the cup. It was a perfect exhibit. That soothed a lot of ruffled feathers.
It had been Barbara Nelson’s idea. It was she who had suggested it to the men. She’d expected a hoopla of objection, but the men fooled her. It had been a good move. When Tyler had commented positively on the cup, his boss, Barbara Nelson, had just smiled at him.
Even though he’d been married, then, that smile had scared Tyler more than anything else. Hers was a predator’s smile.
On the team, Tyler played second base. He did well enough as a batter but he had never hit a home run. He was alert and quick. He did his share and he was accurate in his throws. Probably the best thing was that he looked. He knew where players were and he threw precisely. He was a plus. He kept his eye on the ball.
Probably the best advice he got on playing ball was from his great-uncle Clyde, who said, “Whenever a baseball referee mentions your number, shake your head in a serious, surprised way. Everybody will think the referee was as blind as they’d always suspected.”
That small move could also be applied to a lawyer’s devaluation of another lawyer’s client in court. Especially if there was a jury.
Last year, Kayla had been one of the wives who’d come out to the games. She’d been interested and ornery. She’d laughed when the crowd got too upset over anything. She’d been weird even then.
Tyler groaned as he contemplated how he missed her. As the games were played, he’d foolishly look in the stands for her. And he’d realize she was gone. He had no one to cheer him on and give him the knowledge that somebody cared about him.
His parents were there. His sisters and brothers and nieces and nephews. His cousins... Yeah. And they cheered. But Kayla wasn’t there.
Even Barbara Nelson was there. She would be. She made Tyler’s skin prickle in alarm.
It was after a while and months of trying before Tyler finally got hold of his ex on the phone. He was so surprised when she answered that for a breath he couldn’t think of anything to say.
She’d repeated, “Hello?”
And he’d said, “Don’t hang up.”
Her impatient sigh had been obvious. But she hadn’t hung up.
He’d said, “I need to know that you’re all right.”
“Yes.”
“And I need to know if you need anything at all. Do you have enough money?”
“Yes.”
He’d scrambled for something to say. “Is your car working all right?”
“Yes.”
“I miss you like bloody hell.”
“You’ll get over it.”
“Now, Kayla, that wasn’t nice at all. You could’ve said you miss me a little.”
“I bought all those other dogs.”
“Other? You didn’t have a—You mean me.”
“I’ve never seen anyone who went such places as you chose.”
“I was curious. It wasn’t for long.”
“I doubt it I must go. Have I replied to all your questions?”
“You aren’t out watching the games. I miss you in the bleachers.”
In surprise, she did gasp but then she’d said flippantly, “I’m busy.”
“Who’re you busy—with?”
“The Davies are having their annual picnic. I’m helping get it organized.”
“It was fun last year. Since I’m—was married to you, do I get to go this year?”
“No.”
He had coaxed, “We had a good time last year.”
“How nice.”
“Let’s have coffee tomorrow. I’ll come by your office and get you.”
She wasn’t encouraging. “I’ll be busy.”
“Not...that...busy. We need to talk.”
“My other phone’s ringing. Take care.”
And she’d hung up.
Oddly enough, the stiff, aloof exchange had made Tyler exuberant! It was the first time she’d talked to him in a long while!
His counterself had said a sour: Goody.
And he’d replied to his counterself, Well, we exchanged words. Those were the first exchanged words that weren’t about divorce!
In spite of his counterself, Tyler had gone to bed that night with a smile. His dreams had been erotic. He’d been faithful. He had dreams. He wakened with the stimulation. And he lay and wondered if that hungry body of hers dreamed like his. His sex was named Godzilla. Yeah. He’d done the naming at age fourteen. Half his lifetime ago.
At the office, since his divorce, he referred to Barbara as Miss Nelson...relentlessly.
She told him, “You needn’t be so formal.”
He smiled at her and replied, “I’m being formal. You’re my boss. To call you by your name would sound pushy.”
“I don’t mind...pushy.”
“It isn’t businesslike and respectful.” He was adamant. So he went right on calling Barbara, Miss Nelson.
For a while she sassed back by calling Tyler, Mr. Fuller. But he accepted that term with a slight, serious nod. So she went back to calling him Tyler.
If Barbara had been any younger she would have torn her hair. But she just waited.
For Tyler, her waiting was a whole lot like realizing a big spider knew where he was and was watching him from some crack in the wall. It was scary.
He shared that fear with Jamie.
Jamie said, “Tell me which crack, and I’ll take care of it for you.” Jamie said that not even looking up from his papers.
So Tyler told Barbara, “Jamie admires you.”
And she asked, “Jamie...who?”
Tyler blinked. She really didn’t know which man was Jamie. So Tyler was gentle. “We share an office. He’s Jamie Oliver. A fine lawyer. He looks at you with admiration.”
Barbara slitted her eyes and watched Tyler but she didn’t respond, so he went off. He could feel Barbara Nelson’s eyes under his clothes all the way down the hall. He shivered.
So then Barbara-who-was-now-referred-to-as-Miss Nelson met Tyler in the hall. She asked Tyler to lunch with her.
But he said earnestly, “I’ve a meeting with Kayla. She has a problem.”
He hadn’t even said thank you or looked directly at the woman. And he just went on off down the hall.
And he didn’t dare to look back to see if the prickles down his backside were actually from her lascivious stare.
He called Kayla at work and said, “If you have any sense of compassion at all, you’ll have lunch with me today. That barracuda who is Barbara Nelson has her eye on me.”
In a dead voice, his ex-wife said with no emphasis at all, “How exciting.”
“Don’t be nasty. You could help out a little. You owe me something.”
“I owe you something? I do not!”
“Kayla, you are the most compassionate woman I’ve ever known. I’m not asking you to come back home and get into my bed—” And the very idea of her doing that ruined his breathing. He was silent.
She sighed into the mouthpiece and said, “Okay. This once.”
He left his office early to avoid walking out with Miss Nelson...and having her glued to him for the lunch hour...with Kayla. No way.
At the bank, Tyler went to Kayla’s office before she was ready to leave it, and he sat patiently in the waiting room until Kayla came to fetch him.
Kayla groused, “Everybody in the building knows you’re here! They all think we’re bonding. This has got to be the last time I see you.”
“Why?”
And Kayla sighed with great patience and reminded Tyler, “We’re divorced!”
He told her logically, “We married because there is a bond between us. WE understand each other—”
“Oh, no, we don’t!”
“—most of the time.” He had continued. “You tend to be more structured in your conduct and not open to new ideas—”
“I will not see you again!”
“—but we are friends.” He finished his words.
Kayla was positive, “No. We are not.”
With legal logic, Tyler was firm. “We were friends in our marriage. And we were lovers. I want to continue the friendship.”
She scoffed, “You want a shield. You can’t handle one woman, much less two.”
Their argument continued all the way down the street and into the restaurant, through the line as they chose what they wanted, to their table and all the way through their lunch. It was like old times. What else can a woman expect from a lawyer? He argues all the time!
Tyler cheerfully walked Kayla back to her building. He would have escorted her to her desk, but she was firm that he did not.
So that night at the park’s baseball diamond, Tyler batted in two runs. He was thrown out both times. But the team cheered the runs. At least Tyler had helped somebody else make it to home plate.
But Kayla wasn’t in the bleachers. He looked. He watched. He almost missed a ball. He settled down, accepted that she wasn’t there and he played baseball.
At the office, at that time, Tyier’s primary concern was drafting the contracts for a hospital, which was buying out a doctor’s private medical practice. This was done under Miss Nelson’s watch. The hospital would put the doctor on their payroll as a full-time employee. The hospital would bill the patients, and the doctor would rotate with the other doctors in being available on night call and weekends.
While it was interesting to Tyler, he felt some hesitancy for the doctor. However, he was again impressed with Miss Nelson’s ability and knowledge. She was a superior mentor.
She scared him spitless.
The contract would take about a week to finalize the draft to present to the hospital for their input. Somebody at the firm would meet with the hospital authorities to agree on the final version.
The hospital would then present the contract to the doctor, who would consult his own lawyer. His lawyer could make suggestions for changes. After that was done, she would return the contract to the hospital.
The hospital then might or might not agree to the changes. And they would have to have a meeting. If there were no changes they could sign the contract. If there were changes and the hospital agreed with them or the parties agreed with some modification, they would ask the law firm to include the modified changes into the contract. Then it would be ready for execution.
The entire process was interesting to Tyler. He found it stimulating to smooth people’s problems and help them. His mind worked differently from nonlegal minds. He always considered ramifications.
He had decided against being a candidate for any local or federal political office. He had given the idea thoughtful consideration. A political career wasn’t for him. He was a home boy. But he could help a candidate. He’d help somebody he believed in.
And he found it was annoying that Kayla wasn’t there as his sounding board. She had taken that position since he’d first known her.
She’d taken other positions since then. Now her position was to be gone from him. What an irritating woman! Why couldn’t she be pliant and fascinated like she was supposed to be? Instead she was out of his life, on her own and not needing him around!
It was depressing to understand an ex-wife didn’t need him any longer. She adjusted well to being on her own. Actually, she wasn’t entirely. She and her dogs were sharing a place with Henrietta and her cats.
So one noon who should Tyler run into on the street but Henrietta! He smiled his smile of greeting women and didn’t look at her chest. He said, “Welt, how’s it going?”
Henrietta grinned. “Great! Thanks for getting me a new roomie.”
Sourly, Tyler replied, “I didn’t have anything at all to do with Kayla leaving me. I’m trying to get her back.”
“I don’t think she’d be interested.”
“We’ll see. How are the dogs and cats getting along?” And his eyes were cool as he waited for her reply.
But Henrietta said airily, “We got rid of the dogs before she even moved in. Most were prime dogs. They were snatched up. One of the prime ones went with his original owner! We couldn’t find where they’d stolen the other dogs.”
“I thought Kayla bought those dogs.”
“Oh, she did. And she got her money back. But the dogs had been stolen. Well, one hadn’t.”
Tyler frowned. “I didn’t know the dogs had been stolen.”
“Haven’t you ever seen the papers when the pit dogs are killed by an opponent, the pit people then drive through the city and just leave the dead dogs In an alley somewhere?”
“Poor dogs.”
“They use female dogs, in heat, to lure the male dogs away from the owners’ yards.”
“Females have always been a trial for males. Even dogs.”
Henrietta laughed, gave Tyler a casual wave and went on off down the street.
Tyler walked along to a café for lunch. He was deliberately alone. With a group a man can’t offer to sit down with a single woman. He needed a woman. Actually, he needed Kayla. Even going alone this way, he wasn’t really interested in finding another woman to be permanent. He wanted to talk and be listened to.
He went through the lunch line not seeing anyone he knew. The place was Nick’s. The owner was named Bob. The place had been Nick’s for something like thirty years. Tyler greeted Bob, didn’t see Tim wave to him and went to a table with one woman.
No rings. Not bad looking. Slender. Reading a book. She needed company.
Tyler inquired with courtesy, “Vacant?” And he indicated the chair across from her.
She looked up from her book to look only at the chair. She said, “Nobody’s around. You can have it.” And she went back to her book.
She didn’t say one word to Tyler. She didn’t even look at him. He felt like a ghost. Women looked at Tyler. He was always careful to only smile and never wink. Winking can get a man in trouble.
His table partner went on reading. He tried to see what the book was. Not a clue. He asked, “What’s the book about?”
She briefly looked up and said, “Huh?” But she instantly went back to the book.
That’s a put-off. So Tyler didn’t try for dialogue.
It was diminishing to have a book be more interesting than being a man like he was. He asked for the salt.
Blindly, she handed it to him from the middle of the small table. She didn’t look up from the book.
He pretended to salt everything without salting anything. He didn’t tilt the shaker but he moved his hand up and down as if he was salting it all. She never looked up. Then he put the shaker in the middle of the table. He asked, “Why is the book so interesting?”
“I’m on my lunch hour.”
Tyler narrowed his eyes. That was another put-off. She was on her lunch hour therefore she didn’t need to discuss anything with a stranger.
She ate and read. Tyler sat silently and ate. He looked around somewhat. No one was staring at him with knowledgeable sneers. People went on with their lives not needing to know what Tyler Fuller was doing or how he was doing or if he was deliberately being ignored by another indifferent woman.
It’s diminishing to realize no one really cares about a recently divorced man.
He remembered the sci-fi motion picture of The Shrinking Man. Tyler’s clothes still fit. He could sit on a chair. He wasn’t actually shrinking.
That was something to be thankful about. He drew a breath that was rather sad. She didn’t look up. A man could sigh that sadly and that heartless woman didn’t even have the courtesy to ask what was the matter. What was the world coming to?
So Tyler took the long way back to the office. He told Jamie, “I met a woman at lunch.”
Jamie never glanced up. He replied. “I saw her.”
Tyler silently sat down at his desk. Jamie had seen the reading woman who’d never even once looked at Tyler.
Tyler picked up some papers and began to read them for errors. He went back and began again. He finally actually began to read.
Three
One assignment, for Tyler, was research for a company that was considering leasing space in a shopping center, there in San Antonio. For their client, Tyler was to examine the proposal for loopholes in the lease. He would study what it took to terminate the contract if that should be needed.
Tyler would find what remedies there were if the lessor didn’t keep the stated promises. He would see whether the lessor cleaned and repaired the rented areas. And he would find how the rental fees compared with what the other tenants in the center paid, and how the rents there compared to those at other shopping centers.
Not only rents were compared, but also the fees the lessor charged for advertising the shopping center and what advertising media he used. And Tyler was to check if the parking lot was also attractive, neat, cared for and repaired.
Tyler would not be the one to negotiate the contract. That would be done by other lawyers in the firm who had more business experience. But Tyler would sit in on those negotiations and learn how it was done.
He was still in the “gofer” category. Just about everything he was assigned to do was a...learning experience.
And for all such research, Tyler reported to his superior, Barbara Nelson, whom he tenaciously called Miss Nelson. He asked a whole lot of questions of his office buddy, Jamie Oliver. Jamie had been there longer.
And there were times when Jamie replied, “You’ll have to ask Barb.”
“How can you call her Barb so carelessly?”
And Jamie who rarely looked up from his papers replied, “She doesn’t see me.”
Thoughtfully, Tyler suggested, “It’s probably because she hasn’t the nerve to attack you. She yearns for you and dreams of you.”
“I wish.”
And with some compassion for the ignored office mate, Tyler said, “She probably tries to lure me just to get your attention.”
That made Jamie laugh. He even glanced up. His eyes were dancing with lights of amusement.
Tyler thought of Jamie and wondered why Miss Nelson didn’t see the man. Maybe it was because Jamie never looked up but was so engrossed in law that Miss Nelson thought Jamie didn’t see her.
Kindly, Tyler advised, “You ought to spend more time out at the water cooler.”
“The staff gets too friendly.”
Tyler blinked once. Then he replied, “You’re too selective.”
“Want a date with a friend of mine who admires you?” Jamie again glanced at Tyler!
Tyler sighed and shook his head as he went back to his own papers.
Jamie told Tyler, “See? You, too, are selective. Mattie would spread her knees for you by the water cooler, she’s so smitten.”
“Who is this...Mattie? I’ve never heard of her.”
“That’s how Barb is with me. She can’t see me.”
And kindly, Tyler told Jamie, “She’s too old for you.”
“Two years. I taught for four years before I went to law school.”
And Tyler gasped, “You’re over thirty?” His voice even squeaked up.
“Yep. I’ve crossed the Great Divide.”
“Holy Moses.”
And Jamie agreed. “It’s awesome.”
“Have you told Miss Nelson how old you are?”
“She probably likes her men young and fresh.”
“I’ve been married!”
Jamie grinned, closemouthed, and bit his lower lip. That was to stop himself from commenting. And he immediately went back to work. But he was still irritatingly amused because he gently coughed a couple of times to hide his snorts of laughter.
So Barbara called Tyler to her office. And he had no choice. He went like a cat going into dog territory. He was alert, intense and very formal.
He didn’t jump up onto the top of the bookcases. He didn’t even sit. He said, “Yes?” And he earned a folder and a pencil.
Tyler wore the fake eyeglasses he’d taken up just recently. He had perfect sight and the glasses were only regular glass. He thought they made him look more aloof, unapproachable and withdrawn.
He looked young.
Barbara smiled and said, “I’ll need the folder on the Bennett’s lease tomorrow. Are you finished with it?”
Tyler’s heart was in his mouth. She would ask him to stay after hours. She had a leather couch in her office. He was vulnerable. What would he say?
Barbara went on, “Molly can’t stay tonight, so you won’t have a typist available. As I recall, you have a computer at home? You can take the brief home and get it done there. I’ll come by between nine and ten and collect it then. Okay?”
She was going to come to his apartment! There was no out. Tyler very seriously nodded—once.
Barbara smiled and said, “See you then.” And she returned to the papers on her desk.
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Lass Small
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: MISSION: (RE)MARRIAGE He might be an ornery son of a gun, but never let it be said Tyler Fuller didn′t love his wife. Well, ex-wife, since he′d presented her with an ultimatum she′d shockingly accepted. Now this hotheaded hubby was darned tired of spending the long, cold nights alone, so he vowed to win her back!His mission should have been as simple as the first time he′d convinced Kayla to say «I do.» After all, they′d jumped right from the bedroom and marched straight down the wedding aisle. But Tyler was gonna have to learn a few things about his self-improved former bride. Like how Kayla wanted to take things slow… and just how good slow could be!