Boyfriend for Hire (7 page)

The pit loomed in front of her. Mocking her because it knew she had no freaking clue how to play the game. Wait. Was it a game? Did you get points? Shit. She’d have to admit she’d never played before to David. He and everyone here must think she was the biggest bore around. “Show me how,” she sighed.

With the rules explained, Tawny stared down the length of lawn in front of her to a stake sticking out of the ground. Sure, no problem, she could toss the metal shoe forty feet. Could she hit the frigging pole? Let’s just say it’s a good thing her career didn’t depend on her making a ringer, the horseshoe equivalent of a bull’s-eye.

David told her ladies first. She hefted the hunk of metal, tested its weight. Hmm, maybe she had overestimated her strength.
Here goes
, she thought as the shoe flew through the air and landed, sort of north-west and halfway to her goal,
if
her target had been the kids’ fishing pool.

To David’s credit, he didn’t laugh. Much. Arms crossed in front of him, he nodded to the other shoe. “Try again. The first time is always uncomfortable.”

Her gaze flew to meet his. He nodded again toward her hand.
Oh
. Her mind clicked into gear and climbed out the gutter. Uncomfortable to handle/throw. Got it.

A deep breath cleared her mind and calmed her nerves, which had been on fire since she’d landed with her hand on David’s man parts during the race. Full focus on the stake sticking out of the ground, kind of like a pha—
Dios
.
What is wrong with me? I’m at a family picnic, not the red-light district. Clean it up, Torres, there are children present
.

So caught up was Tawny in her internal dissing, she didn’t notice David had stepped up behind her. “Relax, darling, not everyone gets it the first time. The trick is to ease into it, breathe slow, and enjoy.” He pulled her back against his chest, wrapped one muscular arm around her waist to hold her in place. He ran his hand down her arm, slowly working out the tension until his hand covered hers.

“Picture your goal. What do you want? Slowly bring it up.” He lifted her arm. “Now back off.” He brought her arm down and back. “And let it go with everything you’ve got as you bring your arm back up.” Together they released their grip.

The horseshoe flew through the air, metal clanked against metal and spun around the stick.

A ringer! She spun around, jumped up and down as she wrapped her arms around David’s neck.

“They’re so cute together. Isn’t young love wonderful, Lois?”

The comment from a woman she hadn’t met brought Tawny back to her senses before her lips could find their mark. So shaken she didn’t notice the yelling and running by everyone around them until David grabbed her hand.

“Someone’s hurt.”

Wading through a giant circle, they found Al Spinelli sprawled on the ground, his face the color of ash and his mother sitting next to him cradling his head. Stacy stood guard as she talked to someone on the phone. Tears rushed down Mrs. Spinelli’s face. Everyone in the crowd appeared stricken with fear, murmuring amongst themselves. Everyone except David, who jumped into action.

In a calm voice he got Mrs. Spinelli to rest her son’s head on the ground. As David checked for a pulse, he asked what exactly happened.

“He said something about the potato salad giving him heartburn, it does that sometimes. Then he started massaging his arm and said he ached all over, his back, his chest, even his throat. The next minute he collapsed.” She held his hand to her heart, a lifeline to her son.

“Okay, I need you to let go. Is she on with 911?” David nodded toward Stacy.

“Yes, paramedics are on the way.”

“Good.” David checked Spinelli’s airway, pinched off his nose, and blew air into his mouth. Next came the chest compressions. Over and over he repeated these steps, his focus never leaving his patient.

Tawny sent Phil or Ted or whatever his name was to the front of the building to meet the medics when they arrived. Next she instructed Kerri to round up all the kids and take them to the story tent, far away from the drama. Not finding Spinelli’s wife Cindy and their daughter Breena, Tawny sent another person to find them.

Stacy had moved to stand next to her aunt with a protective hand on the lady’s shoulder. Good. Mrs. Spinelli leaned into her niece, never leaving her son’s side. Stacy continued to talk on the phone, reporting David’s movements and Al’s lack of response.

In the distance sirens cut through the chatter, silencing the crowd. A woman’s scream sliced through Tawny’s heart. Cindy Spinelli dropped the stack of gaily wrapped boxes, running for her husband. Right on her tail was her daughter.

Cindy grabbed her daughter before she could push David out of the way. “Leave him, he looks like he knows what he’s doing, baby.”

David never broke his stride. Breathe. Compress, again and again. Breathe. Compress.

Tawny had no idea how long he’d been at it. It could have been seconds, minutes, or days. Time had stopped. A man clung to life as another fought for him to live.

The family gathered, glued to each other’s sides, pain, fear, uncertainty etched across their faces. Tawny had been through a similar situation a few months ago when her best friend’s grandma collapsed. Tawny’s heart ached with empathy. The paramedics couldn’t arrive soon enough.

As if in answer to her prayers, two uniformed men pushed through the crowd. While they broke out their equipment, the older of the two asked questions and the younger took over CPR for David. They wasted no time firing up the defibrillator. David wrapped Mrs. Spinelli in his arms, lifting her off the ground and moving her and the other women back out of the medics’ way. He kept his arm around the older woman as he spoke low in her ear. Tawny couldn’t hear what he’d said, but it seemed to help calm the women.

On the second try, Al Spinelli’s heart began to beat again.

“Is he . . . going to be okay?” Cindy Spinelli asked hesitantly.

The older paramedic glanced at her. “You’ll have to ask the doctor, but if it wasn’t for that man’s quick actions, he wouldn’t have a chance.”

Together the medics lifted Al onto the gurney and carted him away with his family close behind. The crowd stood huddled together. Lost and shaken. Tawny’s body, devoid of feeling or thought, automatically gravitated to David. Seeking comfort? Safety? She didn’t know why, only that she needed to be next to him.

After a few minutes, the employees came back to life, talking about what had happened, what would happen, and if it weren’t for David, how Al Spinelli would have been dead.

One by one they gathered around him, grabbing his shoulders, giving him slaps on the back, congratulating him. Women lined up to hug him. Little girls brought him flowers.

Of course they did. David Farber had a way with women of all ages.

By the time the group dispersed and Tawny and David headed for the car, she’d lost count of how many drinks David had coming his way. Not to mention a couple rounds of golf, deep-sea fishing, and a weekend use of someone’s sailboat.

Looked like David Farber had a way with men as well.

If he’d been the other candidate for the job, he would have landed it. Slam-dunk. Hook, line, sinker.

And Tawny would have graciously conceded the loss, because David did something amazing. He’d saved a life. A hero. How could she ever pay him back?

During the ride back to her place her phone buzzed. She read the text message, groaning.

“What’s up?”

“I’ve been summoned to my parents’ for a family dinner tonight.” She gave him her most enticing smile. “Don’t suppose you’d be up to coming to my rescue for a second time today, would you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t take this wrong, but hell no. Your parents scare the crap out of me. Especially your mom.”

“Join the club.” They pulled up to her place, where workers had set up a complicated ladder and catwalk thingy in front of the aging Victorian. “At least I won’t have to listen to hammers and saws today.” Turning in her seat, she faced him. “David, I can’t say thank you enough for today. If you hadn’t gone with me . . . I mean, I had fun, you know, up until my potential boss almost died. And what you did . . . Amazing doesn’t even come close.”

“I did what anyone with CPR training would do. It’s no big deal.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the Spinellis.” She reached for her purse. “Let me pay you for your time today. What do you suppose the going rate for a hired date is?”

“Probably more than you can afford because while I may be easy, I’m not cheap.”

A small laugh escaped. Maybe she had misjudged him all these months. “At least let me pay for your gas or buy you dinner one night to thank you?” How did you reward someone for coming to your aid, much less saving a person’s life?

“No need. Just being a friend.”

“You went above and beyond. You made the day fun. Something I sorely needed. Tell me what I can do to pay you back?”

For several seconds he stared at her without saying a word, and then he got out of the truck, came around, and helped her out. Never taking his eyes off her, David lifted her hand like a gentleman out of a storybook and placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

Chapter Five

T
awny pulled up in front of her parents’ expanded Cape Cod house and steeled her nerves. Par for the course, she was the last to arrive for Sunday dinner. Never a quiet affair in the Torres household, and one she’d happily skip if she could. For weeks she’d been avoiding her family. Today, of all days, she’d been summoned home, and none of the Torres kids ever told their mother no.

As she passed the minivan with the multitude of tiny smudged handprints on the windows, a squeal of delight pierced the air. Mama undoubtedly had the plastic baby pool set up in the backyard. It was the perfect day, and Baby Sofia, her only niece and already a handful at nine months, loved nothing better than playing in water. Tawny foresaw the girl growing up to be a mermaid.

Taking her time, Tawny skimmed a finger along the sleek red convertible parked next to the van. At least with her brother Mateo present, she’d have one ally when her parents started in on her about her career and finding a husband.

George, the oldest, always sided with their parents, and Dante, next in line, wasn’t much better. He, however, wouldn’t be here today to razz her. Thanks to his career in the Navy, he got to miss out on these command performances or else Mama would be grilling him about settling down instead. Lucky bastard.

Debating which would be the safer option, the backyard and the chaos of her nephews and niece or going inside and being put to work by her mother, Tawny headed toward the front door. Not that she didn’t love the little rug rats. They were angels. When they were sleeping. It was more a stall tactic. When their mother cooked, she went into the zone. Full focus on taking care of her family, all discussions put on hold until she could concentrate on her victim.

Going to the backyard meant facing her father.

Answering questions she’d rather not. Questions about how was work going (it wasn’t) and who was she dating (Ian Somerhalder . . . in her dreams).

Opening the door, Tawny ran smack into George and his wife Alejandra.

“Haven’t you two learned anything yet?” She rolled her eyes as the lovebirds jumped apart like two schoolkids caught making out instead of the married couple they were and had been for years. “You know that’s the kind of behavior that leads to other things, things that might create baby number five.”

George slung his arm around his wife, pulling her in close. “Yeah, and your point?”

“Don’t you think three mini-me’s of you is enough, dear brother? Now, maybe if you could guarantee us another girl . . .”

“Just keeping the odds in my favor.”

“Gah, at least get a room.”

Alejandra pushed her husband away. “No way, buddy. We’re done.”

“Aw, come on, baby. Don’t you want at least one more?” George pulled his wife back to his side. “Mama wants more grandkids to spoil.”

Alex held up her hand to stop him. “Don’t ‘baby’ me. You’re not the one who has to stay home with four kids all throwing up at the same time. You go off to work in your nice clean restaurant and talk to adults. If your mother wants more grandkids, she can talk to your brothers or—” She looked to Tawny, eyes sparkling, and Tawny knew. The perfect scapegoat stood in front of her sister-in-law. “She can talk to your sister.”

Tawny held her hands up, shaking her head. “I used to like you, Alex.” She teased. Walking away, she shot an evil look at the two of them. “If you so much as even suggest such a thing, I’m going to tell about the time I caught the two of you
doing it
in high school. You may be old and married now, but you know you’ll never hear the end from Mama.”

That should at least shut up George. At thirty-five, the man was still afraid of his mother. Then again, all her brothers were terrified of the woman who’d raised them, rightly so.

Stepping into the kitchen, the tantalizing scents of adobo sauce wrapped around Tawny, making her stomach growl. Mama stood at the stove stirring a large pot. She didn’t turn around. She was in the zone.

Mateo—the youngest of her three brothers—walked through the back door. He gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before dropping a stack of plates in her arms. “We’re eating outside and you’re late. I’ll help you finish setting the table.”

“You go outside and relax with the men, Mateo. You work too hard,
mijo
. Your sister can set the table and help me serve dinner,” Mama said without even looking at them.

Typical. The men in her family did nothing during these family gatherings. They sat on their asses, drinking beer and shooting the shit, while the women waited on them. And they wondered why she hadn’t gotten married yet. No way was she ready or willing to turn into her mother or sister-in-law.

Her mother should have been a professional chef. She’d even been accepted into culinary arts school, almost unheard of in the late sixties. Then she met Tawny’s father, gave up her dream, and raised a houseful of kids. Alejandra had an eye for photography, and Tawny had lost count of the number of times Alex had mentioned wanting her own studio. Then she got pregnant. Now she spent her days changing diapers, picking up toys, and cleaning up puke. She didn’t even take photos anymore. Motherhood had stolen away her artistic passion.