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“That’s not my name.”
“Sorry. Charity. Is that what’s going on with you?” He stood in front of her, one hand holding the suit jacket he’d had to wear in court over his shoulder, the other tucked into the pocket of his dark slacks. He’d locked his beautiful brown gaze with hers, and though Charity wanted to look away, she couldn’t. “Well?”
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s exactly how I feel—not that there’s a lot I can do about it.”
“Want me to fix you up with someone?”
She shook her head. “How about you? I heard one of the clerks in Judge Baker’s office just got divorced.”
“Nah. Too much baggage. What I was really hoping is we could just hang out. You know, so things go back to the way they were.”
“How’s that going to help either of us?”
“I don’t know,” he said, breaking his stare, with his free hand, thumping her open door’s window. “Sorry I ever even brought it up.”
So was she. Because no matter how insulted she was that he obviously didn’t think of her as a woman, she couldn’t get past the idiotic craving she had to go along with his plan. But why help scam his psychiatrist? How would that help Adam? And what about her? How would it feel to only pretend to be his date, knowing she didn’t have a shot at being the real thing? Better yet, follow her original plan to remain just friends? Maybe even sever that tie in favor of finding someone else to declare her best friend? Like a woman who might actually understand some of what she was going through?
“Wanna go with the rest of the gang to Ziggy’s?” he asked.
Yes. “Thanks,” Charity said, “but I don’t think so. Not tonight.”
“Sure? It’s all-you-can-eat baby back ribs night.”
She loved ribs. Would it really hurt to pal around with Adam just one more night?
If she were truly serious about finding a husband instead of a guy friend—yes.
“HOW COME you’re not with Adam?” her big sister, Stephanie, asked that night. She sat on the foot of her bed, painting her toenails Tequila Pink.
“Since when is tequila pink?” Charity asked, reading the name on the bottom of the bottle.
“Probably since the color designers ran out of legitimate pinks. Now, nice try at changing the subject, but you never, ever come to see me on a weeknight unless you need money. So out with it. How much are you short this month and what exotic bug am I helping to import?”
“There are no bugs and can’t I come see you because I miss you?”
“Sure. I’d love it if that were the real reason you’re here.” She put the final coat on her last toe, then screwed the lid on the bottle. Holding it out to Charity, she asked, “Want to do yours?”
“No, thanks.”
“Different color?” she asked, pointing Vanna White-style at her vast array of polish.
“Steph?”
“Yes?” Duck-walking so as not to muss her toes, she headed to her closet for a dress to wear on her date with Dr. Larry, a pediatrician. This was her first real relationship since her amicable divorce with her stockbroker ex, Todd. He was East Coast, she was West, and the two never really met halfway.
“This is going to sound strange,” Charity said. “But do you think I’m pretty?”
“Of course.”
“That was weak. Like you’re just saying that because you’re my big sister. Come on, I can take it. Tell me the truth.”
“Sweetie…” Steph returned to the bed, put her hands on Charity’s knees. “If you’d let me have my way with your clothes and hair and makeup for a couple hours, you wouldn’t be just pretty, but gorgeous.”
“Now I know you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Wanna bet? And what brought all of this on? You’ve never given two figs about your appearance. I’ve always envied that in you. Your knack for being yourself.”
“Yeah, well…” Charity made a face. “Right about now, being me sucks. All my mixed-up feelings are thanks to Adam.” She told her sister what had transpired between her and her supposed best friend—stressing the part about how mortifying it’d been that here she’s crazy in love with him, yet he only sees her as a pal who’d be handy for duping his shrink.
“And so you turned down his proposal?” Steph asked.
“He didn’t propose! He asked me to be his fake date!”
“I know,” her sister said. “You get what I mean. His proposal for the two of you to pretend date.”
“Of course, I turned him down,” Charity reasoned. “You think I shouldn’t have?”
“Well…” In the bathroom, Steph expertly wielded her hair-straightening iron. “Seems to me, if you’re serious about having a baby and husband, maybe you’re going about this all wrong. What if you agreed to be Adam’s date, only to show him how fantastic the two of you could be on another level?”
“Oh, please.” Playing around with her sister’s eyeliner, Charity said, “How am I going to do that when he doesn’t even see me as a woman?”
“That’s a cop-out,” Steph said. “I’ll guarantee if you doll yourself up, he’ll see you differently. And another thing, you’re scared that even if you make an effort to transform yourself into a bona fide hottie, Adam still won’t get the message. And then what?”
“I’m not scared,” Charity said. “Of anything.” Except maybe missing her window of opportunity.
She wasn’t sure why she wanted kids. Because as Adam had pointed out, raising them would take up a huge chunk of her time. Work would be logistically tough. But knowing that didn’t stop the wanting. The yearning every time some lucky woman returned from maternity leave, brandishing her newborn, passing him or her around. When Charity took her turn and felt the trusting warmth against her chest, the impossibly soft scents of lotion and powder, and cute little clothes, she wanted a baby all her own, all the more. Along with the adoring husband proudly standing nearby, lugging around baby equipment.
That was the eternal problem. Sure, in this day and age, all Charity had to do to get a baby would be to pay a visit to the local sperm bank. Surely a town the size of Portland had one, or a dozen. But what was the fun in having a baby if she didn’t have anyone to share it with? Meaning what she really wanted in her greedy heart of hearts was the total package. The perfect little family to match her already perfect job.
Charity pitched the eyeliner in the cosmetics basket and headed for the bathroom door. “I’d better get going and let you finish dressing for your big date.”
“You don’t have to leave,” Steph said. “In fact, why don’t you come with us? Larry’s been saying he’d like to meet you.”
“Thanks,” Charity said at the door to her sister’s bungalow. “But I’ve got a big night. Just got a Eupatorus gracilicornis in from Thailand that needs mounting.”
“Okay, but if you ever want to take me up on that makeover, I’ll be here. Seriously, Charity, enough’s enough where Adam’s concerned. Not that it’s any of my business, but it’s high time you gave the man a wake-up call.”
That made Charity laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“The notion of Adam ever realizing we could be so much more than friends. In fact, I set him up with someone in the hopes of him moving on. That way, maybe I could move along, as well.”
Steph rolled her eyes.
“WHO WAS THAT?” Bear asked Adam on Tuesday as they filed back into the courtroom after the noon recess.
“Oh, you mean the redhead I did lunch with?” Adam asked.
“Duh. She was hot. A scorcher.”
Adam shrugged. “True. Bug hooked us up. But truthfully, while she’s easy on the eyes, and from what I read between the lines, a closet nympho, I thought by the end of it, my ears were gonna bleed. Blah, blah, blah…If I’d had to hear one more thing about her demon ex, I’d have gnawed my hand off to get it out of her whiny clutches. What I wouldn’t have given to just do lunch with Bug.”
“What’s up with you two?” Bear asked, holding open the door while Adam stepped through.
“Long story. Don’t ask.”
All through the afternoon session, Adam was forced to stare at Bug. His best friend. Who for some unknown reason since Sunday morning had pretty much refused to speak to him—except for setting up his lunch from hell. Which, come to think of it, she might’ve done it for spite.
He didn’t get it. One minute they’d just been palling around, and the next, Bug acted as though he had the plague—at the very least a nasty flu.
Once court was out, he waited around the office until most everyone had left but her.
Enough was enough.
One way or another, he was going to get to the bottom of what was bugging his Bug.
“Hey,” he said, holding out an unpopped bag of microwave popcorn. “Peace offering?”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
“What are you, then?” He sat on the edge of her desk, playing with her collection of wind-up bug toys. He wound a jumping cricket, then let it go.
“What’s that supposed to mean? And quit messing with my stuff before you—aggghh!”
Crash!
The already struggling ivy she’d kept alive for two years crashed to the floor. The terra-cotta pot was in twenty pieces, mixed in with dirt and crumpled leaves, and the still-jumping mechanical cricket topped the whole mess. Adam lay alongside it, having lunged to the floor to catch the pot, ultimately making things worse.
“Oops,” he said, rubbing his aching lower back.
“Are you all right?” she asked, instantly out of her chair and on her knees beside him.
“I’ve been better. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said, “I’m just glad you’re not hurt. But you should be. I told you to quit messing with stuff.”
“Wish you’d have been more forceful about it.” Adam winced. “Well? Aren’t you going to offer to kiss my ouchie?”
“You sure you didn’t conk your head instead of your behind?”
The office’s perfect Robocop of a marshal strolled up with a smirk on his face. “Figures it was you two causing the commotion,” said the guy Adam secretly called Suck-up Sam.
“Move along,” Adam said. “Show’s over.”
“Need help?” Sam said to Bug, holding out his hand to assist her over the debris heaped at her feet.
“I’m good,” she said. “But thanks for asking.”
“You bet.” He winked at her. Winked!
Once Sam was out of earshot, Adam said, “God, that guy makes my teeth hurt. He’s such a tool.”
“I like him,” she said. “He’s always seemed nice.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Come on, I’ll help clean up.”
“You’ll help?” Eyebrows raised, she said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you the cause of this mess? Sam!” she called. “I need you, after all!”
Like a bad smell, Pretty Boy silently appeared, holding out his hand for Bug to take—which she did!
After he’d helped her step over the dirt and debris, he said, “I was just heading out for a bite to eat. Care to join me?”
“No, thanks,” Adam said. “We’re busy.”
“Speak for yourself,” Bug said, gazing up at the guy with the smile she usually only used when downing Ziggy’s chocolate malts. “You broke it, you clean it.”
Sam said, “See ya, Adam.”
Bug didn’t say anything, just waved.
Fury didn’t begin to describe the emotion bubbling in Adam’s gut. Then again, maybe it was lingering aftereffects of too much Sunday-afternoon chili? Either way, watching Suck-up Sam mosey off with his best friend didn’t set well.
At all.
Now the only question was, what, if anything, was he going to do about it?
Chapter Three
A wolf whistle greeted Charity on her trek through the office Wednesday morning.
“Damn, Bug.” Bear abandoned his coffee to chase after her. “What’d you do to yourself?”
“Why? Do I look that bad?” she asked, self-consciously trying to shove up her thick glasses, which were no longer there due to new contacts. Maybe taking such drastic steps with her appearance hadn’t been such a hot idea? Easing into a new look might’ve been the best way to go.
“You look that good,” he said with a laugh. “Adam see you yet?”
“No? Why?” Just the mention of Adam’s name sent her pulse racing. What if he didn’t like her changes? The honey-blond, flirty flip cut that replaced her usual messy, mousy ponytail. The makeup her sister taught her to use that made her green eyes look huge. The emerald-green silk camisole and form-fitting black suit jacket and short skirt that would probably get her fired. Worst of all were the black heels she’d have to kick off should she have need to chase bad guys across the crowded courtroom.
Seeing Adam’s reaction to Sam asking her for a date had been all the impetus she’d needed to take this last step in attempting to take their relationship to a new level. Granted, she was no expert, but even she’d seen Adam hadn’t liked another man paying attention to her. Which had been her cue to once and for all make a play for him, or forever quit mooning and get on with her life.
Bear just chuckled, then went back to his coffee.
His reaction left Charity wishing for an earthquake—nothing major, just something big enough to open a hole large enough to swallow her.
“Looking good,” Adam’s brother, Beau, said on his way to the holding cell.
Adam’s brother, Caleb, winked on his way to see the boss. “Hot stuff.”
