The Rocky Road to Romance (4 page)

Daisy rolled her eyes. “That isn't necessary. I'll be fine. Until today I had an impeccable driving record.”

“Humor me.”

Steve and Bob got back into the Explorer and waited for Daisy. A moment later she drove by and waved to them. The car was yellow and maroon, or at least might have been yellow and maroon when it was new. Steve could barely see for the exhaust. New had been a lot of years ago. Valves clattered, the fan belt squealed, the muffler rattled, and the beast left a trail of oil that reminded Steve of Hansel and Gretel's bread crumbs.

Forty-five minutes later Daisy had a mound of food on her chopping block and was waiting for her electric wok to heat up. “It's my mom's,” she said to Steve. “She sent over a box full of pots and pans, hoping Kevin wouldn't starve to death before they returned from Texas.”

Kevin was forlornly staring into an empty bag of chips. “Bob ate all my chips.”

“He's a puppy,” Steve said, throwing a black look at Bob.

Daisy added oil to the wok. “I hope he hasn't ruined his appetite.”

Kevin looked at Bob sprawled across the
kitchen floor. “I don't think this house is big enough for the two of us. He's a nice dog, Steve, but he's moving in on my territory.”

Steve could appreciate Kevin's point of view. Bob was getting more than his share of attention from Daisy. He was getting hugs and kisses and tasty morsels of food. When they got home tonight, Steve was going to have a long talk with Bob. He was going to tell him about hogging the chips and moving in on a budding relationship.

Daisy dumped the meat and vegetables into the wok and stirred.

Bob was on his feet beside her. His tail was swishing back and forth, his ears were perked up, his mouth was open in joyous expectation.

“He sure gets excited about food,” Daisy said.

“So do I,” Kevin told her. “I get excited about food. Doesn't anyone want to feed me?”

“We're going out to eat,” Steve said. “I was supposed to bring the people food, but things got sort of hectic, and I didn't get a chance to shop.”

Daisy scooped the stir-fry into a heavy ceramic bowl, blew on it, and when it was cool,
she said to Bob,
“Bon appétit.”
She set the bowl on the floor.

Bob made a few loud grunting, slurping, snorting noises, and the food was gone. He sat back and studied the bowl, as if more food might suddenly appear. He had a slim scrap of sautéed pepper stuck in his chin whiskers. Steve thought Kevin looked like he was thinking about eating it, but Bob sniffed, located the pepper slice with his tongue, and swallowed it before Kevin had a chance to snatch it away.

Daisy still had the fork in her hand. “I thought you said this dog was finicky.”

“Probably he draws the line at table legs,” Kevin said.

Steve picked the bowl up off the floor. It was licked so clean it looked like it had just come out of the dishwasher. “I guess my food isn't as good as your food.”

Daisy smiled. “This is one recipe that will definitely get included in my next book.”

Steve put a friendly arm around Daisy. “Now for my part of the bargain. I'm going to take you guys to a first-class restaurant.”

“Excellent,” Kevin said, already at the door. “Do I get to ride in the car from hell?”

“Afraid not. I don't have the car from hell today. Today I have the Ford SUV,” Steve said.

“That's okay,” Kevin said. “SUVs are cool.”

Daisy slung her purse over her shoulder. “What'll we do about Bob?”

The question took Steve by surprise. He wasn't used to worrying about dogs. “Could we leave him in your backyard?”

“Fang ate a hole through my privacy fence. Bob would be able to escape. I suppose we could leave him in the house, though.”

“You be a good dog,” Steve told Bob. “Don't do anything rude in the house, and I'll take you for a walk when we come back.”

Daisy closed and locked the door and was halfway to the car when an unearthly sound stopped her in her tracks. “My Lord, what
is
that?”

Everyone listened. The pitch rose. Bob was howling for all he was worth.

“He's lonely,” Daisy said, returning to the house. “We'll have to take him with us.” She unlocked the door and snapped Bob's leash on
his choke collar. “We can go to one of those fast-food drive-throughs. Then we won't have to leave Bob home alone.”

Bob galloped to the car and jumped onto the backseat beside Kevin.

When everyone ordered at the drive-through, Bob got two burgers and a vanilla shake. He was vastly subdued on the way home, and by the time Daisy and Steve had cleaned the kitchen and were ready to settle themselves in front of the TV to hear the eleven o'clock news, Bob was sound asleep on the couch.

Steve liked Bob a lot when he was sleeping. Not only was Bob adorable, but he was also taking up most of the couch, making it necessary for everyone else to sit pressed together, squeezed into the remaining few inches. Since Kevin had gone to his room to avoid drying dishes, the squeezing was left to Steve and Daisy. Steve sat down and waited for Daisy to sit beside him.

She stood with hands on hips, surveying the space left available to her. All right! This was her chance to snuggle next to Steve Crow. She
felt giddy with anticipation, but she didn't want to seem too eager, so she pretended there wasn't enough room for her. “Your dog is a couch hog.” God bless him.

“I could move him,” Steve offered. He didn't mean it, of course. He wouldn't move that dog if the house was on fire. Good old Bob had finally done something right.

“He looks so comfy.”

As if on cue Bob rolled over, feet in the air, looking twice as comfy as before.

“That settles it,” Daisy said, wedging herself next to Steve. “He's really a sweetie-pie.”

Steve put his arm around her, and everywhere their bodies met he felt warmth. It crept through his shirt and the fabric of his gray slacks and heated his blood. He realized it had been a long time since he'd been this easily aroused. Probably not since ninth grade when he'd felt a girl's breast for the first time. Mary Lou Resnick, he thought fondly. He could still remember the look in her eyes. At the time he'd thought it was unbridled passion; now he recognized it as pure terror.

Daisy was experiencing a lot of both. The touch of his hand at her shoulder sent a shock of desire. The intensity of the desire prompted a wave of apprehension. If she had any sense, she'd be sitting in the club chair on the other side of the room, she thought. He was going to kiss her, and she was going to respond by tearing his clothes off and embarrassing herself. She turned toward him and heard him suck in his breath when her breast flattened against the wall of his chest. “Oops,” she said, “maybe we're sitting too close.”

His answer was a kiss that made her toes curl.

As far as he was concerned they weren't nearly close enough. He kissed her again and wondered what it was about this woman that had him constantly wanting. Just the thought of her drove all logic from his mind. He'd adopted a dog because of her! He'd bought a new car. Since she'd walked into his office yesterday, he'd instantly turned into a scheming juvenile. Must be a midlife crisis, he decided, although thirty-two seemed a little young. He felt her move against him, and thought was pushed aside.

They would never have heard Kevin if it hadn't been for his size-fourteen feet. He thundered down the stairs with the speed he usually reserved for locating a refrigerator. “Hey, you guys, do you have the TV on? Daisy made the news!”

Daisy sat up and blinked, embarrassed. She'd forgotten about Kevin being in the house. She made a fast check of her clothes and was relieved to find them all in order. “What do you mean, I made the news?”

“Look,” Kevin said, sitting in front of the television, “it's you!”

The camera focused on Daisy being interviewed by the woman reporter, then panned to the gunman, swearing and threatening to get even.

Steve was stunned. “He threatened you!”

“He got excited. He didn't mean it,” Daisy said.

“How do you know? How can you be sure?”

“For goodness sake, he doesn't even know me.”

“He does now,” Steve said. “You've just been on national television.”

“He's been arrested,” Daisy insisted. “He's
locked up. He couldn't hurt me even if he wanted to.”

“That guy is one of the biggest dope dealers in Washington. He was out on bail before you even arrived home tonight. And he has friends. Lots of ugly friends.”

“I'll be careful. I'll be especially careful if I see any ugly people who look like dope dealers.”

“Damn right you'll be careful. You'll stay here in this house until that guy comes to trial. I'll hire a bodyguard, I'll buy an attack dog, I'll install an alarm system.”

Daisy put her hand to his forehead. The kiss had gotten pretty hot, but she didn't think it was enough to make him delirious. “Maybe you need some fresh air.”

“I don't need fresh air. I need peace of mind. I'm not going to have you cruising the city in the newscar when some maniacal dope dealer is out to get you.”

Daisy narrowed her eyes at him. “Exactly what are you saying?”

“I'm saying you're fired. You're grounded. You're confined to quarters.”

“You can't do that to me! I need the money, and I like the job. I was beginning to get good at it.”

“I'll
give
you the money. I'll pay you to stay home.”

“It's not the same.”

“Don't be an idiot,” Kevin said. “Take the money.”

Daisy pulled into the Shulster Building underground garage and was relieved to find the newscar still in its parking space. Steve had left in a huff last night. Actually, she'd sort of kicked him out. He'd insisted she didn't have a job, and she'd threatened a lawsuit. She was sure she'd been discriminated against, but she wasn't sure exactly how. This morning she'd woken filled with resolve to do the traffic report. She figured she was on the winning side. If Steve knew anyone else who could do the traffic report, he would never have given the job to her in the first place.

Her optimism vanished when she saw him lounging against his Explorer four cars down. He had his arms loosely crossed over his chest,
his mouth was firm and unsmiling, his eyes were dark and brooding. If she'd run across him looking like this three days ago, she'd have panicked. Today she stiffened her spine, tipped her nose up a fraction of an inch, and told herself he was a man like any other man. She knew it wasn't completely true. But for her purposes this morning she preferred to delude herself into thinking he was average and manageable.

She parked her car and left it unlocked. The locks were rusted out, and besides, as far as she was concerned, if anyone was dumb enough to steal her wreck, then he deserved to have to drive it. She walked over to Steve and stood toe to toe with him.

“Well?” she said.

“If I wasn't so damned frustrated, I'd probably admire your nerve.”

“I'll be fine.”

“I hate to hear you say that! What am I supposed to do with all my macho protective instincts? Why are you making my life so difficult?”

“Gosh, I never thought of it in those terms.”

“Well, think about it.” He pulled her to him and kissed her. The kiss deepened, his hands slid the length of her spine and crushed her to him.

The kiss was disturbed by the pager on his belt. He pushed her away and swore softly. “I have a meeting.”

“I promise to be careful.”

“Good. As an added precaution I'm hiring a guard to ride with you.”

“What?”

“The agency is sending three people. You can interview them and take your pick. They're to meet you at the park in two hours so arrange your route accordingly.” Before she could answer he turned and strode away.

“I don't want a guard!” she shouted, but he was gone.

 

At one o'clock he called on the car phone. “How's everything going?”

“Couldn't be better.”

“Do you have a guard with you?”

“Yup.”

“Good. I'll meet both of you at the garage
tonight. I want to make the terms of the job clear to him.”

Daisy gave her last report at three-fifty-five, and the newscar reached the garage ten minutes later. Steve was waiting for her. Daisy got out and waved to him, and an old lady followed her. The old lady had steel gray hair curled neat and tight against her skull. She was shorter than Daisy and as slim, but not so curvy. She wore clean white tennis shoes and carried a big patent-leather purse with a gold snap top. There wasn't anyone else in the newscar.

“What happened to the guard?” Steve asked.

“I didn't feel comfortable with any of them,” Daisy told him. “So I got my own guard. I hope that's okay.”

The old lady held out her hand. “Elsie Hawkins. Rough and Ready Security Guard Service.”

Steve felt his mouth drop open. He shifted his weight and looked at both women, trying to determine if this was a joke. “I've never heard of Rough and Ready Security Guard Service.”

“It was one of them mail-order courses,” Elsie said. “But it's legit. I got a certificate and everything. I did it while I was on the mend in the nursing home.”

“You're not serious.”

“Damn serious,” Elsie said.

“You graduated from guard school while you were in a nursing home?”

“Yup. I broke my hip skiing in Vermont, and they had to put one of them steel contraptions in, so I took this correspondence course to keep from going nuts in rehab.”

She lifted her right leg. “See? It's almost as good as new. Except of course I have to be careful about going out in an electrical storm with all these metal parts.”

Steve searched for words but couldn't find any.

“That's a joke,” Elsie said. She shook her head at Daisy. “He's a looker, but he's not too bright.”

“Excuse us,” Steve said to Elsie, pulling Daisy by the arm. “I'd like to talk to Miss Adams in private a moment.”

He walked Daisy five cars down and backed
her against a van. “What's going on? What's with the squirrelly old lady?”

“She's not squirrelly. She's perfectly capable. And she really did graduate from the Rough and Ready Security Guard School. I saw her certificate. We had a nice ceremony for her at the rehabilitation center.”

Steve pulled Daisy back to Elsie Hawkins. “I'm sorry, Miss Hawkins, but I don't think this is going to work. Miss Adams's life is in danger, and I need a real guard.”

“Stop the presses,” Daisy said. “Elsie
is
a real guard, and she's the one I chose.” She thumped herself on the chest. “I'm the one who has to spend all day with this guard person.” Another thump. “I'm the one who should be concerned about her qualifications.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a snap of her head. “I'm the one who is ultimately responsible for my personal safety. So I should have the last word in picking out my guard. And another thing. It would be hypocritical of me to discriminate against the elderly.”

“I'm the one paying the bill. And I'm the one losing sleep over it,” Steve said.

Elsie made a disgusted sound with her tongue. “Well, make up your minds if you want me. This isn't the only security-guard job in town, you know. And I got better things to do than to stand here and watch you two argue. I gotta be home by six to see a TV show about blood pressure.”

Steve smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I don't believe this. This is insane.” He looked at Daisy. “What is this woman going to do if someone threatens you?”

Elsie pulled a .45 magnum long-barrel out of her pocketbook and leveled it at Steve's zipper. “I'd shoot him in the privates. Some people aim for the heart, some people like to gut-shoot a man, but I always aim for the privates. Word gets around when you shoot off a man's privates. People get to be real careful of you. Yessir, I could blow a hole in you the size of a potato with this baby.”

“Holy cow!” Steve pushed Daisy behind a car. “Where'd you get that bazooka? And what are you doing carrying it around in your pocketbook?”

Elsie put the gun back in her purse and
closed it with a firm snap. “Got it at a yard sale in the District,” Elsie said. “A woman's got to protect herself. I'm an old lady, you know. It isn't like I could give some pervert a karate chop.”

“It isn't loaded, is it?”

“Of course it's loaded, but you don't have to worry. I know what I'm doing. You sure are a jumpy one,” she said to Steve.

“You have a license to carry a concealed weapon?”

“People keep asking me that. One of these days I'm going to have to look into it,” Elsie said.

Steve loosened his tie and popped the top button on his shirt. “I need a drink. Something cold that's going to make me numb.”

“Drinking rots your liver,” Elsie told him. “And an ounce of alcohol kills a thousand brain cells.”

Steve thought it was pretty clear Elsie didn't think he could afford to lose that many brain cells.

“I gotta roll,” Elsie said. “I'll be back tomorrow.” She climbed into a blue-and-white vintage
Cadillac and rumbled away with a V-8 engine and dual exhaust system that sounded like distant thunder.

“I'll follow you home,” Steve said to Daisy. “How about discussing this over dinner.”

“Sounds great, but I have to work at the nursing home tonight.” She looked at her watch. “I better get going, or I'll be late.”

“How about after work? A late dinner?”

She chewed on her lower lip. It was tempting, but she was behind on her dissertation schedule. “Can't. I have a ton of reading to do for school.”

His life wasn't going well, Steve decided. Everything used to be so smooth. Women never said no, old ladies used to think he was bright, people he employed followed instructions. At least he had a dog. The thought lifted his spirits. He'd go home, take Bob out for a burger, and then they'd go run a couple fast miles together. Afterward they could watch television and maybe put a frozen pie in the oven for dessert. Pretty damn domestic, he thought to himself. He'd turned into a regular family man. An SUV, a dog, and a frozen pie.
Life didn't get much better than that. Not tonight anyway.

When Steve got home there were seven notes tacked to his condo door about Bob's howling and an eviction notice from the superintendent stating he'd violated the no-pet rule of the condo building. When Steve opened the door, Bob rushed out to the elevator. Steve pushed the emergency express button, but they only made it to the second floor before Bob humiliated himself. They continued on down to the basement parking garage, where they quickly exited the elevator. Steve pushed the elevator button for the penthouse, then he and Bob went out in search of a Realtor.

“Don't worry about it,” Steve said to Bob. “It wasn't your fault. You did the best you could. I guess a dog doesn't belong in a condo.” Bob looked depressed, so Steve patted his head. “We're going to buy you a nice house. One with a big fenced-in yard.” A house that was closer to Daisy, Steve thought. A house that had enough room for a few dozen kids—just in case.
Omigod. Did I just have a thought about kids? Where'd that come from?

“Do you like kids?” he asked Bob.

Bob woofed and wagged his tail.

Two hours later Steve and Bob had a house to live in. The owners had already moved out, so Steve and Bob could rent the house until closing. It was amazing what you could do when you were willing to pay top dollar and didn't need financing, Steve thought grimly. His bank account was dwindling. He hadn't realized a dog could be such an expense.

When they returned to the apartment building they took the stairs. Steve put the pie in the oven and started packing essentials. Tomorrow he'd call a mover and pay whatever was necessary to get an immediate move. By tomorrow night he'd have his own tomato bush, a cozy fireplace, a gas grill in his backyard. Until recently he'd thought he hated all those things. He told himself he was buying them for Bob, but oddly enough, deep down inside, he was looking forward to watching his tomato bush grow.

 

Steve and Bob met Daisy in the garage the following morning. Daisy was wearing a khaki
jacket, orange T-shirt, and khaki shorts that looked like a skirt except they had cuffs. She had a styrofoam cup of coffee in her hand and dark circles under her eyes.

“What's Bob doing here?” she asked.

“He wanted to see where I work.”

Daisy nodded sleepily, as if it were perfectly normal for a dog to go to work.

“Have a tough night?” Steve asked.

“I got home late from the nursing home, then I had all this reading to do.” She yawned and sighed. “Kevin tried to do the papers for me, but he delivered some of them to the wrong people, so I had to go out and fix things.”

“I thought you were going to give up the paper route?”

“I told them I'd finish out the week.”

Tomorrow he'd help her with the paper route, he decided. His new house was only half a mile away from her town house. He'd get up early and walk around with her, then they could have breakfast together in his cozy breakfast nook that overlooked his tomato bush.

Elsie pulled up in the Caddie. She slammed the door and locked it and marched over to them. She was wearing a purple-flowered dress with a little lace collar, and she was carrying the big black handbag. “Morning.” She looked more closely at Daisy. “You look like the devil.”

“I was up late last night. Then things got kind of rushed this morning because I had to squeeze grocery shopping in between my other jobs.” She gave an enormous yawn and sighed. “I'll be okay once I get on the road. I'm used to being tired.”

“Maybe Elsie should drive today,” Steve said. He gave Elsie a twenty-dollar bill. “Take the portable scanner and go somewhere for breakfast.”

“She's overcommitted,” Elsie said. “She's headed for burnout. If she don't watch her step, she's gonna end up someplace where they feed you strained peas and make you sleep in a rubber room.”

Steve scrutinized Daisy. She looked tired, but she didn't look ready for the rubber room. He wasn't so sure about himself and Elsie.

He could see blue sky lurking beyond the open garage door. Inside the dark garage it was cool, but the air was already heating up outside. In another hour the cement pavement would be shimmering. In another hour he'd be on the air-conditioned broadcast floor and Daisy would be cruising south on the beltway through Maryland. He didn't like the arrangements. He wanted to be with Daisy.

He reached out, touched a silky curl, and let it wrap around his finger. “I think I'll carve an hour out of my schedule today so we can have lunch together. I'll get some potato salad and fried chicken and we can have a picnic.”

 

He arrived at Belle Haven at twelve-fifteen with a packing crate filled with food and the quilt from his bed draped over his arm. Bob bounced around beside him, following close on his heels, never taking his eyes off the food box. They spread the quilt under a tree not far from the car, took the portable scanner, and set out the lunch.

Elsie looked at the quilt and shook her head. “Once I get down on that thing it's gonna take a forklift to get me up. I can do most anything with this hip except picnic. If it's all the same to you, I'll take my food back to the car.”