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When We Met Page 9
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“How do all the causes find you? You must be on every mailing list in the state.”
“I like to help,” Larissa said calmly. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“It’s frequently horrifying. Reptiles? Can you stick to things with fur?”
“Reptiles need love, too.”
“Not from me.”
* * *
ANGEL CLICKED ON his mouse. He’d used a basic CAD program to design an obstacle course for a corporate client. The problem was Justice thought it was too difficult for the average desk jockey. While Angel understood the theory of leaving clients alive so they could come back another time, without real danger, where was the fun?
“Wimps,” he muttered, and made a few more changes. While he wasn’t willing to take out all the good parts, he could put in some places where those not in fighting shape could walk around.
Too bad Justice refused to let him toss live grenades to the side of the course. That would add motivation. He knew from personal experience. His personal best time for a quarter-mile run had been in Africa—while being chased by an angry rhino. Imminent death made for a great workout.
He made a few more changes, then saved his work and forwarded a copy to Justice for approval. He’d just logged in to his email program when someone knocked on his door.
He looked up and saw a tall redhead standing in his doorway. He would guess she was in her mid-to late twenties. Her eyes were green and her skin pale with only a faint dusting of freckles.
“Mr. Whittaker?” she asked, her voice soft.
“Angel,” he said, rising to his feet and wondering what she was doing here. She didn’t look as though she was at CDS to apply for a job. Most of their applicants were lean and muscled. This woman was carrying around an extra twenty-five pounds—although he had to admit, on her, the curves looked good. She also lacked that air of confidence that came from knowing you could kick somebody’s ass.
“I’m Bailey Voss. My daughter, Chloe, is going to be in your grove.”
He held back the curse words that immediately sprang to mind. He figured the practice was good for him, what with working around little girls.
“Yes, Mrs. Voss. Please come in.”
His office was small and windowless. He had a desk and a couple of extra chairs. He’d been offered something larger but hadn’t seen the point. He didn’t like working in an office, and no windows, plants or fancy decorations were going to make his computer time any better. He was the type who preferred to be doing.
“Thank you.” She offered him a shy smile. “Bailey, please.”
She took the seat he offered, then waited until he settled across from her.
She clasped and unclasped her hands. “My daughter is very excited about joining the FWM,” she began, not quite meeting his eyes. “She’s seven. She’s really smart and sweet but...” She bit her lower lip.
Angel was about to ask what was wrong when he realized she was fighting tears. They flooded her green eyes and one slipped out of the corner of her eye.
She cleared her throat. “Sorry. I’m a bit of a mess. The thing is, Chloe hasn’t been herself for a while now. Her dad, my husband, was in the army.” She flashed him a shaky smile. “He’s the reason we moved to town. He had an older uncle here, and Will and I didn’t have any family except for each other and Chloe. He was worried about us on our own while he was gone. So he suggested we move here, to be near his uncle. Where we could have a sense of community.”
She paused. “It’s been great here and Chloe made friends. She was really happy. Then nine months ago, her dad was killed and a few weeks later Will’s uncle passed. All that was rough on both of us. Once school started in September, Chloe seemed better, but over the holidays...” She swallowed. “We both had a difficult time.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Angel said automatically, glancing toward the door. He wanted to bolt. Barring that, he was hoping someone would walk in and interrupt them. Anyone would be better at this than him.
“Thank you. I thought maybe the FWM would be good for her and when she was enthused about it, I signed her up.” She looked at him and more tears filled her eyes. “I’m so worried about Chloe. She’s quiet and doesn’t spend much time with her friends. She’s only seven. I want her to be happy and enjoy her childhood. With the loss of her father, I’m not sure that’s possible.”
Angel knew he was in over his head. Little girls were bad enough, but now he was expected to deal with one who had lost her dad? No way. No frigging way.
“I didn’t want you thinking she was weird,” Bailey confessed. “She might need some extra time adjusting. I’m sorry to have to ask for special attention for her, but I don’t know what else to do.” She brushed away more tears. “When Mayor Marsha mentioned you’d served as well, I wanted to talk to you. Because I was hoping you’d understand.”
It took all his considerable strength to stay seated. Because what he really wanted was to run as hard and fast as he could and never look back. But that wasn’t an option. Not with Bailey staring at him with her big tear-filled eyes. And Mayor Marsha was an old lady. No way he could tell her what he really thought.
“Don’t worry,” Angel told her. “Chloe can have all the time she needs. The first season is only two months. I’m new, too. We’ll figure it out together.”
Bailey smiled at him. While he preferred his women a little older and a lot more difficult, he had to admit, it was a hell of a smile.
“Thank you,” she said. “You’re very kind.”
He wanted to point out he was a lot of things, but kind wasn’t one of them. Instead he nodded and stood. “I’ll keep an eye out for Chloe and let you know if there are any difficulties. All the girls will be new to the FWM, so they’ll all be thinking about fitting in.”
“You’re right. I hadn’t thought about that. Thank you.”
He nodded and waited until she’d walked away before looking at the wall and wondering if it would help to bang his head against it.
Consuelo strolled into his office. The raised eyebrows were enough for him to know she’d heard at least part of the conversation.
“They gave me little girls,” he grumbled. “Eight of them. I thought I was getting teenage boys.”
Consuelo sat on the corner of his desk. “You should be grateful.”
“I know how to handle boys.”
“Because of Marcus?”
He nodded.
“But you haven’t been around them since he died,” she said quietly. “I think you’re wrong. I think boys his age would have been a lot harder.”
He brushed off her words. “What do I know about little girls? They’re small and delicate.”
She grinned. “They’re not breakable, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’ll do fine. You’re good with kids.”
He glanced at her. “How would you know that? You’ve never seen me with a kid.”
“I’ve seen you with Ford. It’s pretty much the same thing.”
“Funny,” he grumbled. “Very funny.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“GIRLS,” JACK SAID. “Children.”
Taryn hung her suit jacket, then reached for the button on her skirt. They were in the women’s locker room. She wanted to point out the word women to Jack but as she was constantly in the men’s locker room, she knew he would simply mock her.
“Yes, seven-year-old girls who are, by definition, children.”
“And you.”
She unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. After she stepped out of it, she picked it up and hung it on a second hanger, next to the jacket. Still wearing her silk blouse, she turned to face Jack.
He stood there, all big-guy tough, leaning against one of the closed lockers. Without her usual heels, she was significantly shorter, which she usually hated. Even so, she walked over to him and put her hands on his chest.
“It wasn’t that I didn’t want our baby,” she began quietly.
His dark gaze
locked on her face. “You didn’t.”
She winced. “I was young and we didn’t know each other well and I felt really bad about getting pregnant. There’s a difference.”
“Not much of one.”
She thought about pointing out that he hadn’t been all that upset about the loss, either. Having a child would mean getting involved emotionally. Something Jack did his best to avoid. But that wasn’t the point.
“I’m helping out Angel, and the girls are a part of that. I think it will be fun.”
In a strange way, she was looking forward to being part of FWM, even if only for a couple of months.
“You’ll do great,” he told her.
She studied him. “Are you okay?”
“The best.”
She didn’t smile. “Sometimes I worry about you.”
“Don’t. I always land on my feet.”
“It’s your heart I worry about,” she said without thinking, then shook her head. “Sorry. I meant—”
He pressed his fingers to her mouth. “Don’t apologize. I know what you meant.”
She leaned into him. He pulled her close and held her. “I’ll always love you, big guy,” she whispered.
“I’ll always love you, too. Even with your bony ass.”
“My ass is not bony. I’m trim. I do Pilates.”
“You’re such a girl.”
“Which makes our sexual past easier for you to explain.”
He chuckled, then released her. He pointed to the clock on the wall. “You’d better hurry or you’ll be late.”
She followed his gaze and groaned. “I already am. You know where the FWM hut is?”
“Not a clue.”
* * *
OKAY, ANGEL THOUGHT. He was willing to admit it. Nothing had ever terrified him as much as facing eight seven-year-old girls at his first FWM meeting.
It was Tuesday at three and there were two very, very long hours to fill. He had a handbook, a box of supplies and a large open room in the FWM hut not too far from the Hunan Palace restaurant.
The girls sat in front of him on the carpeted floor. They were wide-eyed and eager, dressed in jeans and T-shirts. They’d been dropped off by the parents and told to have fun. Expectation filled the air and he had no idea what on earth he was supposed to do to fulfill those expectations. Once again he wished Mayor Marsha were forty years younger and a guy, so he could take out his frustrations in a way that made sense to him.
“Hello,” he said, conscious of the door only a tantalizing few feet away and the beckoning freedom beyond. “I’m Angel.”
They stared at him. He swore silently. Old lady or not, he was going to have to assassinate the mayor.
Just then the door to the hut opened and Taryn walked in. She wore jeans and a silk blouse tucked in to the tight waistband. Instead of athletic shoes, as the girls favored, she had on black boots with four-inch heels.
As she shut the door behind her, she laughed. “I got lost. Can you believe it? Everybody talks about how small Fool’s Gold is, but not to me. There I was, down by the park, looking for a hut. This isn’t a hut, by the way. It’s a building. Why did anyone say it was a hut? And it’s sure not by the park.”
She walked to the front and sank gracefully to the floor. “Okay, what did I miss? Oh, I’m Taryn, by the way. Did we already do names?”
Angel felt himself start to breathe again. The girls stared at Taryn with amazement. He knew just how they felt. She was larger than life and simply being around her caused a person to feel something good was about to happen.
“We didn’t do names yet,” one of the girls said.
“Excellent.” Taryn smiled at her. “Why don’t I start? I’m Taryn. I’m friends with Angel. I’ll be helping out for our season. I have never been in the FWM, so I’m really excited to learn all about it.”
Each of the girls said her own name. Chloe went last and spoke quietly. Taryn didn’t seem to pay any more attention to her, but Angel had called to explain about her special circumstances, so he knew she was keeping track of the girl.
Taryn shifted to her knees and bent over the box of supplies. “I read my handbook last night and I believe we’re supposed to have a project today.”
“We play get-to-know-you games,” a little girl named Allison said. She was blonde with glasses perched on her nose.
“You’re right,” Taryn said. “Don’t you love games?” She looked at him. “We’re supposed to divide into two groups,” she began.
“Or we could do one big group,” he said quickly.
Her mouth twitched. “Is this where I make the clucking sounds?” she asked quietly, before smiling at the girls. “Okay, there should be a ball in here.”
She pulled out a big red ball, then motioned for everyone to get in a circle. “I’m going to roll the ball to someone. When she catches the ball, I have to say her name. If I get it right, I get to ask a question. Once she answers the question, she’ll roll the ball to someone else, and so on.”
She shifted onto her butt and sat cross-legged, then waited while the girls formed a circle around her. She rolled the ball to the girl directly across from her.
“Charlotte, who prefers Char,” Taryn said. “Right?”
Char Adelman, a petite brunette, nodded vigorously.
Taryn grinned. “And I get to ask a question. Do you have any twos? Oh, wait. Wrong game.”
The girls all laughed. Angel didn’t get it. Chloe, who had ended up sitting next to him, leaned close.
“It’s Go Fish,” she told him. “A card game.”
Chloe was tall and thin, with bright red hair and equally vibrant freckles. When he looked at her, she ducked her head.
“Thanks,” he said in a whisper.
She nodded without looking up.
“My question,” Taryn said slowly. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Char wrinkled her nose. “Two brothers and they’re both older. They tease me a lot and try to make me cry. When I get bigger, I’m going to be strong enough to beat them up.”
Angel started to say he could help her with that, but before he could speak, Taryn put a hand on his arm, as if urging him to be quiet.
Good idea, he thought. He probably shouldn’t offer lessons like that. At least not on the first day.
Char shot the ball across the circle. It headed directly for him and he caught it.
“Hi, Angel,” Char said with a shy smile. “Are you and Taryn married?”
“No.”
He sent the ball to another girl and asked his question. She returned the ball to him. “Have you and Taryn kissed?”
The other girls laughed.
“I sense a theme,” Taryn said, taking the ball from him. Her eyes were bright with amusement. “Angel and I are grown-up friends. We’re not married. I wanted to learn more about FWM and he’s letting me tag along. Now let’s continue with the game, but ask questions of each other, okay?”
There were a few grumbles, but the girls all agreed. At the end of about half an hour, they all knew a lot more about each other. Angel noticed that only one girl had sent the ball to Chloe. He wasn’t sure if that had relieved Chloe or hurt her feelings.
Taryn reached into the grove box and pulled out large sheets of paper along with boxes of crayons. There were tables and chairs along the perimeter of the room. Taryn rose gracefully and started putting the paper on the desks. Angel pulled chairs around and then handed out crayons. The girls scrambled to see what was next.
As he got everyone settled, he saw the paper contained lines where they were to list each girl’s name and one fact about her. Angel immediately looked at Chloe. The only question to her had been about whether or not she had pets. She’d whispered, “No, but I’d like a dog.” Not exactly information someone needed for a lasting friendship.
He waited until the girls were settled, then pulled Taryn to the back of the room.
“What about Chloe?” he asked in a heated whisper.
“
What about her?”
“They don’t know anything about her except that she wants a dog. Do you know how bad that’s going to look? Char has two brothers and Chloe doesn’t have a dog.”
* * *
TARYN WATCHED THE emotion simmering in Angel’s usually cool gray eyes. He nearly vibrated with concern, which she found really sweet. The big, bad soldier brought to his knees by a bunch of little girls. It might be a cliché, but it was a good one. Just when she was prepared to go live on Cynics Island, something like this happened and restored her faith in humanity.
She put her hand on his upper arm and squeezed gently. “She’s been dealing with things a lot worse than this for a long time,” she said quietly. “We’re going to help her fit in, but we can’t fix the problem in an hour. Stay calm.”
“I am calm.”
She raised her eyebrows.
He exhaled sharply. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’m not calm. You shouldn’t be, either. I’ve never had a daughter. You don’t have kids. We’re not qualified.”
“Possibly not, but I’m thinking we’re not going to do much damage, either. Try to relax. The girls already adore you.”
He scowled at her, which was totally cute, she thought happily.
“You can’t know that,” he grumbled.
“We’ll see.”
The girls worked on their lists, which were then posted on the walls of the hut. Taryn was pleased to see that girls who knew Chloe from school had added things like “good reader” and “best drawings in class” in addition to a couple of “doesn’t have a dog.”
Once all the lists were posted, they walked around as a group and talked about them. Taryn noticed that there was a lot more conversation between the girls and everyone, with the possible exception of Angel, was more relaxed.
She walked back to the supply box and lifted out the last two packages. There were plain leather bracelets with adjustable chains by the clasps. She studied the simple leather thong, noting how it was sturdy enough to last through a lot. Good thing, as the girls were expected to wear them for the next five years. There was also a package of small wooden beads. The beads were decorated with a simple carving of two hands clasped. The printed label on the plastic bag said Friend Beads—Acorns.