Baby Kisses (10 page)

Uh oh.

Monica, dressed in a beautiful two piece beige suit that was cut to the top swell of her breasts, with a red silk scarf draped around her neck, looked like an ad for a magazine that could be called, "Successful Beautiful Me." Mrs. Brightman personified the same look, only in an older version, with her striking black suit and beige silk blouse.

Tooty grimaced as she smoothed her hand down her cotton shirt dress with its little yellow flowers and plastic yellow belt at the waist. She wanted to leap from the car and change her clothes, except what would she change into, her best pair of Levis?

Monica patted Tooty's knee. "You look lovely. We're going to have such a nice time getting to know you."

Harvey pulled the limo smoothly into traffic and Tooty dug her fingernails into her palms. She had a feeling Monica and Mrs. Brightman had done this on purpose and she could only wonder why.

The limo pulled to the front of a posh restaurant and Harvey opened the door for them. Monica and Mrs. Brightman exited and Tooty followed. Just as she stepped forward, Harvey touched her elbow and said low, "You look beautiful."

His sweet words
—
meant to encourage
—
did just that. She lifted her head and followed her hostesses. Inside, they were met by the Maitre d' and shown to a lovely table in an outdoor garden. Tooty was surprised to see Miles at the table with a woman dressed rather casually, considering the attire of Monica and his mother. She noted the surprise on his face when he saw her.
He didn't know I was coming.

He quickly masked his surprise and said, "Tooty, I'm so glad you're here." His words seemed genuine. "I'd like you to meet my sister, Cecelia."

Cecelia clasped Tooty's hand. "I'm so happy to meet you. Miles has told me wonderful things about you and Harris. When Monica called earlier and invited me and Miles to lunch, she didn't mention you would be here. I'm so glad we came. I just got back into town and I understand you're leaving tomorrow. For sure, I'm stopping by tonight to meet Harris."

Tooty liked Cecelia immediately. Her smile was infectious and she clearly doted on her brother. Their waiter hovered and took drink orders. Monica ordered a fancy cocktail, as did Mrs. Brightman. When the waiter asked Tooty what she wanted for her beverage, she shyly said, "Iced tea, please."

Cecelia said, "Tea sounds great. I'd like some, too."

Miles ordered a cup of coffee.

After the menus were distributed, Tooty looked at the prices and almost fainted. About the only thing she could afford, and still have a few dollars left over for traveling home, was a small salad.

Miles said, "Ladies, lunch is on me and I want you to order whatever you want." He was looking at Tooty while he spoke. She felt her face turn pink. Monica and Mrs. Brightman ordered the most expensive meals on the menu. Tooty waited for Cecelia to order and sighed with relief when she asked for a Caesar salad. Tooty ordered the same. Miles ordered a pasta dish with soup and salad.

Throughout lunch, Tooty glanced around the restaurant and felt like a guppy in the midst of koi fish. She looked exactly like what she was, a country girl plopped amongst elegant, sophisticated city folk. Although Cecelia was dressed casually, her every word and action fit in with the restaurant patrons.

Tooty felt Miles watching her and she did her best to choose the right utensil to eat with. Monica placed the tip of her French manicured index finger on Miles' hand, and said, "I have tickets to La Fille du Régiment at the Metropolitan. Hopefully, you'll be back from Colorado by then. I know how much you've wanted to see this opera.

He looked from Monica to Tooty, "I may be back in time. I'm not sure."

Mrs. Brightman said, "Everyone's been asking about you at the country club. When you return, the members want to have a gathering in your honor."

"That's nice; but not necessary. You know I'm not into that sort of thing."

"Well, that may be so, but it doesn't stop your admirers from wanting to celebrate your return from the Wild West."

There was an uncomfortable silence and Cecelia said, "So, Miles, Dad tells me you're considering writing a romance in the vein of Nicolas Sparks. I think that's wonderful. What made you want to do that?"

Miles gave his sister a look of appreciation. "Actually, Tooty talked me into writing a romance scene in the last
Mac Righteous
book and I kinda liked it. Writing romance would certainly be a stretch for me and I need a challenge."

Cecelia looked at Tooty. "I've been telling Miles he needs to write in a different genre for years. Finally, he's met someone to whom he'll listen. Thanks, Tooty."

Tooty smiled at Cecelia and chanced a glance at Monica. Her eyes sparked contempt.

By the time lunch was over, Tooty felt certain Monica and Mrs. Brightman had asked her to join them for the purpose of making her realize just how lacking she was in refinement. Hell, she didn't need this lunch to show her that. The only bright spot in the whole affair had been meeting Cecelia.

After lunch, Miles and his sister bid hasty goodbyes because they had pressing appointments. During the return ride to the penthouse after a lengthy silence, Monica said bluntly, but dripping with fake sweetness, "Tooty, I hope you don't have any romantic illusions about Miles. You're young and he's worldly and successful. I can understand how that might turn your head."

Tooty looked at her dumbfounded, unable to believe her ears.

Monica continued, "Miles and I have been seeing each other for a long time and I expect we'll marry. He's had other women fall for him, and it breaks my heart to see them hurt when they realize he's already taken."

Mrs. Brightman nodded her agreement.

Tooty gazed out her window and garnered her courage. Finally, she turned and looked at them both dead on. "You really didn't need to go to all this trouble to make me feel uncomfortable in your social circle. I am Miles' personal assistant, nothing more. By your warning, it appears, however, that you're not as sure of your relationship with him as you profess. Otherwise, you wouldn't need to keep reinforcing it with me. Please do yourself, and me, a favor and stop trying to convince me of my unsuitability for Miles. I think I know that better than anyone, and it only makes you appear jealous and spiteful."

Mrs. Brightman gasped and Monica narrowed her wrinkleless eyes at Tooty. Before Monica could respond, the limo stopped and Tooty jerked open the door and jumped out. Without a backward glance, she walked into the building and rode the elevator to the penthouse.

That night, Tooty and Harris ate supper in the kitchen and enjoyed Mryna's and Harvey's company. Miles had called and said he wouldn't be home until late. While Myrna served hot apple pie with vanilla ice cream, the intercom buzzed and Cecelia said she was on her way up. After she joined them, she hugged Myrna and Harvey and then turned her attention to Tooty and Harris, warmly greeting them. She handed Harris a small wrapped gift. His eyes got big when he unwrapped a miniature race car.

"I been wantin' a car like this!" He rolled it on the island countertop.

"What do you say, Harris," Tooty prompted.

"Thank you, Ms. Cela." He couldn't quite pronounce her name, but it was close enough.

After Tooty tucked Harris into bed, she came back to visit with Cecelia in the living room. Miles' sister was holding a family album when she entered. She patted the spot beside her on the couch and Tooty sat down. Thumbing through the pages, she pointed out pictures of her and Miles as children. "We were always in trouble. Our parents did the best they could to refine us, but I think they finally gave up." She pointed to a picture of her parents standing on a sailboat. "Please don't let my mother and father scare you. They can be off putting at best, but I know their hearts. They love Miles dearly and went through hell after his accident. Their idea of what's best for him, however, isn't really what's best for him. Maybe someday they'll understand that." She sighed, and then turned to more pictures.

When she reached a picture of Miles in his wheelchair with a young woman sitting in his lap, she sighed again. "This is Alexa. Miles became engaged to her when he was thirty and she was nineteen. He met her when she was seventeen and waited for her to grow up before initiating anything. Her parents are very wealthy and well connected. Miles loved her dearly and she loved him..." Cecelia paused, "…but not enough to fight for him when her parents came against their engagement. She finally called it off and sent Miles into a spiral of depression. He'd been doing so well for years, but this was just too much. I think that's why he hasn't allowed another woman into his life. Oh, he sees Monica, but that's strictly a sexual thing. Everyone knows she's all wrong for him. Well, everyone except my father and mother. I believe she really cares for him, but she also cares for his money and success."

Tooty didn't know what to say.

Cecelia closed the photo album and set it on the table. She said in a serious tone, "Tooty, Miles is crazy about you and he's fighting his feelings because of what happened with Alexa. He sees you as too young for him. He's wrong. You're good for him." She looked into Tooty's startled gaze. "I love my brother and you're just what his heart needs. So there, I've spoken what's on my mind and you can take it for what it's worth."

Tooty found her voice, "I don't think he feels that way about me. We're just friends."

"Friends make the best lovers," Cecelia countered. She patted Tooty's knee and laughed. "Yep, you and Harris are just what the fates have ordered for my brother."

Tooty wanted to kiss the ground when Miles pulled the van in front of her humble little country home. They'd only been gone a week and it felt like a month. Her flowers needed watering and the porch had leaves and debris blown across it. She couldn't wait to get to work.

While unloading their baggage she felt Miles watching her. She wondered if he was sad to leave his home in New York or if he'd developed a soft spot for simple living. Granted, his home was beautiful and posh, but it was also cold and uninviting. She looked at him and asked bluntly, "What are you thinking, Miles?"

He gave her a surprised look. "I was thinking how well this home suits you."

Now she was the one to be surprised. "Yes, it does," she whispered.

The evening was still young after tucking Harris into bed. Tooty was tired from the long trip and then piddling around her house, but she didn't want to call it a night. Miles had retired early.

Suddenly feeling the urge to write, she retrieved her notebook and walked outside to the porch swing. Rereading her unfinished poem under the dim porch light, she listened to crickets chirp and owls hoot, willing the third stanza to come.

His eyes, the color of love

Paint my soul with living shades

He is the shadow of my dreams

He knows me as no other

Will I ever meet him?

Do miles separate us?

Or is he the bright star in my backyard?

Is he fey?

Or is he man?

She pondered and then wrote.

He is near, yet so far.

I am young, but old in hurt.

He is old, but unaware of his youth.

We are paradoxes of ourselves.