What's Yours is Mine (30 page)

“So would you?” Stan’s voice sounded delighted, as if he were offering her keys to the kingdom. Which, in fact, he was.
 

Darcy blinked. She should say yes. She should say
hell, yeah, get me on that plane.
It was validation after six long years, another crucial step toward real power in the company.
 

She watched Will in the kitchen, his movements so sure, so confident.
 

Honesty. Integrity.
 

Holding on to what was important.
 

“You know my situation here, Stan.”

He laughed, incredulous. “Darcy, my love.” Which meant,
this is an honor. Grab it
.

And she should. And yet…

“I’ll get back to you after breakfast.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

As Darcy hung up and went to the table, Will paused, spatula in his hand. “Stan?”

“He wants me to go to Frankfurt. Tomorrow.”

“That’s a bump up, isn’t it?” Will grabbed a handful of chopped basil, sprinkled it on a pile of vegetables in a pan. “Are you going?”

She leaned against the counter. “I don’t know yet.”

Will poured an egg mixture into the pan and said nothing.
 

How would he react if she told him she was considering quitting her job?
 

Did she want him on those terms, though? Shouldn’t he take her no matter what, and just know that she was a good person? If she had to prove herself to him, was that love?

Did he love her?
 

She looked across the counter at him. He was looking down at his work, his mobile mouth pursed in concentration, his eyebrows furrowed. His eyes were set far apart, his cheekbones pronounced, the skin on his face rough with morning-after furrows. She couldn’t tell if he was handsome anymore. He was just Will. Was that what love meant?

She got up, her vision blurred with unshed tears. It wasn’t fair. Why did she have to feel this way about the one man who could never completely accept her? Why him?

Her phone rang. Simultaneously, the doorbell chimed. Will was kneeling by the stove, sliding the frittata pan into the hot oven.
 

She slid off the stool and went to the door, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she went. Work. She thumbed it off, not ready for hard decisions.

Four people in business suits stood on the stoop. Three men and a woman. She abruptly realized how bedraggled she must look. She’d never even adjusted her shirt buttons.
 

“Can I help you?” She pitched her voice imperiously. She’d learned a long time ago that you had to act the way you wanted to present yourself. People tended to believe what you projected. Even with mismatched buttonholes and messy hair, she could pull this off.

“Is this Will Dougherty’s condo?” The woman craned her neck, looking around.
 

Darcy suppressed half a dozen snarky replies. “Is he expecting you?”

“He should be.”
 

Will came forward, wiping his hands on a towel. “I thought you’d be here later. I’m just finishing up in the kitchen. You must be Shana.” He extended his hand for a shake. “Come on in.”
 

The foursome came across the threshold one at a time, introducing themselves. The last one, and obviously the boss, with slicked-back gray hair, identified himself as Bill Calderon.

Darcy headed for the bedroom. Bill Calderon, here?
 

Will hadn’t turned down the interview after all. He’d gotten them to come to him. Stinker. She’d be pissed, but really, no point now. So, yeah, good for him.
 

She could hear the murmur of conversation from the living room as she quickly changed. She chose a slim black knee-length skirt and a white button-down shirt, and put her hair up. She could pull off the business look as well as anyone. And she had a feeling she’d be seeing Stan before the day was out. One way or another, things would come to a head today.
 

She leaned into the mirror, fastening her earrings.
Look closely, objects in the mirror may be more in flux than they appear.
By tonight, she might well be homeless and jobless.
 

And alone?

~*~

It didn’t take Will long to show the Calderon foursome around the condo. Eyebrows were raised at the furniture arrangement.
 

“Not my idea. Though it is an interesting concept, isn’t it? Postmodern deconstruction of the purpose of a sofa. Makes you think, anyway. And I find it oddly comforting to sit on that couch.” He pointed to his original sofa, nestled behind Darcy’s.
 

“Like a baby’s crib.” Bill Calderon nodded, clearly amused. “Could take off among the forever-young set.”

Darcy came out of the bedroom, transformed into the woman he’d first met, all sheen and polish. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
 

Bill Calderon went over to her. “You’re the troublemaker, aren’t you?”

Darcy arched an eyebrow. “Always. What did I do this time?”

“You’re the General’s daughter. The reason we’re here.”

“I thought Will’s work was the reason you were here.”

Warmth blossomed in his chest. Darcy really did have his back. She wasn’t going to turn this into a game of who could sabotage whom. He relaxed, as if he hadn’t known how tense he was.
 

Sex with her had been incredible. Intimate. Extraordinary. But bodies could lie. And she was right, he still didn’t entirely trust her. But he wanted to. Unsettled, Will turned to open the door. “Let me show you what we did with the courtyard. We were aiming for a sense of the wild brought into civilization, almost Japanese in its symmetry but with a California spin.”

He stepped out into the bright sun, leading the Calderon folks outside. Trusting—yes, trusting—Darcy to let him back in.
 

As they paced slowly around the property, stopping often to ask questions, a small person hurled himself at Will’s legs. “We here!”

Will laughed and picked Jakey up. “So you are. Can you remind me what you’re doing here?”

“We stay with you. Mommy goes to work.”

Will smiled at his interviewers. “The perils of an al fresco meeting. Human cannonballs.”
 

Sheila emerged from the alleyway, hand in hand with Alex. “Sorry about that, he got away from me again.” She belatedly noticed the foursome with Will. “I can still drop the kids off with you, can’t I? It’s a school holiday, and I have to be at Golden Organics in half an hour.”
 

Will smiled tightly. “It’s fine.” She should have called. She should have made sure he could be there for her this time. But she never did.

He nearly dropped his nephew, realizing. Maybe it wasn’t just his mother’s abandonment or his father’s death that made him so wary of relationships. Maybe it was at least partly about his ongoing relationship with his ever-demanding sister.
 

Nevertheless, his nephews needed him. He turned to Bill Calderon. “Let’s continue this inside. I can show you the mock-ups I made yesterday of some ideas for the project. I hope you’re good with mayhem.”

Calderon nodded. “This is the nature of your life, I take it.”

Will stopped to consider. Apparently it was. So much for tranquility and quiet. Zen didn’t have to mean clear, deep pools and silence. Sometimes it meant remaining calm in the midst of chaos. “Good preparation for the craziness of the work site.”

“That it is.”

Maybe he stood a chance at this contract after all.

~*~

Between settling the boys and acting professional, it was clear Will had his hands full. Darcy offered to take the kids down to the water, and he accepted gratefully. But as she was walking out the back door, she nabbed Sheila. “So what time is this interview? You’ll be back in, what, an hour? I have to go in today, and I’m not sure how soon Will is going to be done with the Calderon people.”

Sheila blinked at her. “No, this is it. I have the job.”

Darcy frowned. “What? Did you have the interview already? I thought—”

“Stan called me last night in a panic. He said he couldn’t figure out the database and his grandson was out partying before heading off to college next week. He gave me a five-minute interview on the phone and said I was hired. He seems odd. Not what I expected from the head of a big company. I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t.” Sheila gave Darcy a wry look. “I wanted to hate you, but that didn’t go so well either.”
 

“Yeah, I’m too lovable.”

Sheila snorted.
 

Darcy slid her hand across the smooth-sanded wood rail on the back deck, looking out at the boys, who had wandered a few feet away and seemed to be arguing over a patch of clover. “So you’ll be there all day?”

“If this is too much, let Will know. He’ll figure something out. I’ll get child care worked out next week. This was just such a surprise, and Will always comes through for me, so here we are.” She brushed an errant lock out of her face. “Can you make sure Jakey doesn’t fall in the ocean?”

“Of course.”

Sheila turned toward the sliding door, then paused. “The lotion you and Will worked on, the one that got him fired…”

“It wasn’t the lotion that got him fired.”

Sheila waved her hand in the air. “Whatever. Did you put the chemicals in there?”

“No.”

Sheila nodded in grim satisfaction. “I thought not. I mean, when Will first told me back then, I was sure you had, but now, well, I’ve met you. I trust you with my kids.” She spread her hands, as if that was proof enough that Darcy couldn’t be capable of wrongdoing.
 

“I’m honored.”

“So who did it?”

Behind Sheila, inside the condo, she could see Will and the Calderon group leaning over a sheaf of pages spread out on the kitchen counter. They all seemed to be enjoying that frittata. Her stomach growled.
 

Could she just go inside and avoid answering Sheila’s question? No. Better to deal with it head-on. “I think… I mean, I have no proof, but—”
 

Sheila gasped.
 

“No, it’s not that bad. Or, it might be, but—”
 

But Sheila had already rushed off toward her younger son. She scooped Jakey up and yanked a spongy wild mushroom out of his mouth. “We don’t eat things from the ground, Jakey. Not without Mommy’s permission.”

She put him down, shaking slightly. Darcy walked down the path toward them and set her hand on Sheila’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

“I should get him to throw up in case he ingested any of it.”

“I’m sure it’s safe. Will wouldn’t allow toxic mushrooms near a complex where children live.”

Sheila strode into the condo.
 
“Sorry to interrupt, but is this poisonous?” She dropped the soggy, chewed mushroom on the table, barely missing Will’s careful, beautifully rendered schematics.
 

Will picked it up and tossed it in the trash. “No. Aren’t you leaving?”

Darcy grinned from her vantage point outside. They really were siblings.
 

Sheila came back outside, holding Jakey. Behind her, the sliding door snicked closed. “Watch Jakey carefully for any signs of poisoning, okay?”

“Of course. But he’ll be fine.”

Sheila set Jakey down. She watched him toddle off, a frown creasing her forehead. “You think it’s Stan, don’t you? The person who ordered the additives in the lotion, I mean.”

“I—maybe. I don’t know. But he’ll be a good boss despite that, I’m sure of it. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Sheila stared at her. “Seriously?
 
You think I’m taking that job now?”

Darcy opened her mouth.
 
Closed it.
 
Sheila was Will Morality-is-in-My-DNA Dougherty’s sister, after all. Still… “Couldn’t you just go in for a few weeks? A month? Pretend to like him long enough to pay this overdue mortgage bill?”

“Only if going in means I can plant a bomb in his desk.” Sheila paused, struck by a thought. “Hey, you said you don’t have proof of any of his shenanigans.”

“Right, so I could be entirely wrong.
 
You shouldn’t throw away a job on my say-so.”

“And I’m his new executive assistant?”

Darcy exhaled, relieved. “You won’t hate it, I swear. I know this seems awful right now but I swear he’s not a bad guy in person.”

Sheila ignored her.
 
“Perfect. That gives me access to his files. All his files. Including his supersecret notes on the real recipe for Slippery Elm.”

“If they exist.”
 

 
“I could play detective. I always wanted to be Nancy Drew.”

“It’s too risky.”

“What’s he going to do, get me arrested?
 
I thought you said he was a nice guy.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Jakey!” Sheila scooped the toddler up. “You shouldn’t do that.”

He hadn’t been doing anything, not as far as Darcy could see. Eating grass, maybe.

Inside the condo, Will was deep in conversation with Bill Calderon, gesturing emphatically. His hair was tousled and his face unshaven, but he exuded grace and sureness.

Someone tugged on her hair.
 
Startled, Darcy looked down at Jakey in his mother’s arms.
 

“Pretty.” He gave another experimental tug, and his mother untangled his chubby hand from Darcy’s hair.
 

“Sorry.” Sheila eyed Darcy speculatively. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Jakey? Sure. He’s adorable.” Also lethal to long hair.

“Will.”

Darcy flushed. “Sure. I guess.” Her attempt at casual sounded as hollow as it felt.
 

“And he still thinks you did the adulterating. Which will always stand between you.”

 
“How did you know?”

“I know my brother. He’s too stubborn for his own good. Let me do this. Let me be a meddling older sister. Will doesn’t always know what’s best for him.”

“And you think I am?”

“I know you are. He hasn’t let anyone get under his skin in, well, ever. He needs you, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”