What's Yours is Mine (5 page)

Janet looked sympathetic, but Will wasn’t even listening. “I bet you can’t last a day cooped up in here. You’ll have a work crisis, someone’s using too much printer toner, oh, the horror, and you’ll go trotting in.”

“That’s a gross exaggeration, I don’t—”

But he kept going, having too much fun at her expense. “Or you’ll come down with latte grande withdrawal and rush out to get your Starbucks fix. Or you’ll just
have
to keep that hard-to-get appointment at the salon to get your toenails painted in little dollar signs.”
 

“Try me, Mr. Surfboard and Jogging Shorts and Outdoor Tan. I can outlast you without breaking a sweat.”
 

Will folded his arms, his mouth hinting at amusement.
 

Darcy’s hands curled into fists by her sides. He thought that badly of her? She’d show him. “You’re so sure you’ll stick it out longer than me, pretty boy? I’ll make you a bet. These two can be our witnesses.” She swept her arm, indicating Janet and Tim. “If
either
of us steps foot outside this condo, that’s it. Game over. We forfeit our right to the place. Think you’re up to the challenge?”
 

Will nodded. His eyes glinted with something oddly like admiration. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Jennings.”

She turned to Tim Farrow. “Work for you?”

He unfolded his long, angular body and stood up. She could see the strain as he favored his left leg. “Honestly, I don’t care how you choose who stays. Dice. Rock-paper-scissors. Mud wrestling. But I’m not waiting forever. Four days. If you haven’t hashed it out by then, one way or another, I’ll contact the banks and tell them the mortgage loans are invalid and evict you both. It’s the only fair thing to do. So please. Do us all a favor. Decide this thing.”

Chapter Four

After he ushered a visibly nervous Janet and a clearly amused Tim out the door and shut it behind them, Will turned back to face Darcy. He forced himself to smile, willed himself to stay relaxed. “We don’t really need that ridiculous deal, do we?”

Darcy trailed her fingertips along the glass surface of the coffee table. It made a muted whine. “Does this mean you’ll agree to cede the rights over this condo to me without a fight?”

He snorted.

She nodded. “As I thought.”
 

If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought Darcy looked hurt. Like she was the injured party.
 

“This isn’t personal. It’s just— I took a pay cut on the work I did on this complex in exchange for this particular condo. I picked out all the fixtures, gave it added touches, like the particular design of the tile mosaic in the bathroom. I can’t afford a built-to-order house of this quality. So, no. I’m staying.” He folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I’ll wait you out if I have to, but this is my home.”

Darcy shrugged and turned away. “Fine.”

“So you’ll move?”
 

“Of course not. But you’ve made your stance clear. No point in talking, is there?” She knelt by her bag, rummaging inside.
 

Why did this woman always leave him feeling like an earthquake was imminent? Like the ground itself was unstable. “So what do you propose to do?”
 

She marched over to the bedroom, phone in hand. “That’s my business.”
 

He was about to push it, but his phone rang. Darcy paused in the doorway, watching him.
 

He hit Answer. “Hey, Sheila. How are things?”
 

“Where are you?” His sister didn’t sound happy.
 

Oh, right. Her broken screen door. He’d promised he’d fix it this morning. “I’ll be right over.” He clicked off and shoved the phone in his pocket as he headed for the door, glancing back to check on his inadvertent guest.
 

Darcy was still standing in the bedroom doorway, holding her cell phone. Her gaze sharpened when she saw he was leaving.
 

Whoops. Their ridiculous deal.
 

He dropped his hand and let the door swing shut.
 

 
“Don’t let me stop you.” She gave him a challenging look.
 
Almost flirtatious.
 

He kicked off his shoes and headed over to the couch, stretching out, his hands behind his head, grinning at her. Two could play at this. “Don’t you have to go to work? Aren’t you the motor oil that keeps the engine running smoothly? Isn’t everything going to fall apart without you?”
 

“I’ve decided to work from home today. Telecommuting, ever heard of it? I can stay home forever.” She sashayed back over to her pile of things by the door, grabbed a laptop bag, and walked back to the bedroom. His bedroom, dammit. Then she turned, gazing at him with a strange smile. If he didn’t know better, he’d call it flirtatious. “Don’t disturb me.”
 

The bedroom door closed behind her.
 

Will got up, eyeing the front door. Maybe he could sneak out without her realizing. No, she probably had superhuman hearing. Or had already installed spy cameras in each room. He paced to the kitchen, put his hands on the smooth blue-tinted counter. What was he going to do? He couldn’t leave. Couldn’t stay here forever, cooped up like this with
her
. He walked to the front door again, staring down at her belongings. If he were a different sort of guy, he’d sabotage her by destroying her clothes, her toiletries. Make her life so unpleasant she’d have to leave.

Too bad he wasn’t that guy.
 

He sat down at the kitchen table and pulled out his cell phone. He’d have to rearrange his entire day. First, he should call his sister to apologize profusely, but the screen door would have to wait. Then on to potential clients. He’d have to reschedule a couple of them, but he could send some photos and links to tide them over until he could sit down with them. It would do, at least for now. How long could Darcy last stuck in a one-bedroom condo with him?

The two of them living on top of each other. The thought unsettled him.
 

Sheila didn’t take the postponement well. “You don’t understand. Alex slams the door a hundred times a day, and Jakey keeps trying to climb it. Never mind the bugs in the house, I’m afraid the frame is going to fall down on one of the boys if it’s not fixed soon.” Ever since Harley left her, she’d been overanxious about her kids. It was part of why he’d picked a place so close by, so she could lean on him a little and reduce her stress. Frustrating that he couldn’t just ride his bike over there right now to help her out.
 

“I should be able to come by tomorrow.” By then, Darcy would be going insane without checking in with her office. He’d win without having to do a thing. Which was just the way he liked it. “Something’s come up here, I can’t risk leaving. Trust me, it wouldn’t be a good thing for me to go over there right now.”
 

He hung up and sat down heavily on the couch. Darcy would leave. He just had to wait her out. Better that than engaging in some kind of War of the Roses battle royale, with all the attendant mess and angst, yelling and stress. He’d be like Gandhi. Serene and calm, winning with patience and the knowledge that he was in the right.

~*~

Darcy sat on the bed and stared at her computer screen. She had to file the final report on the factory situation in China, but her mind was a complete blank. Like the Word doc with its blinking cursor and nothing else. No words. No report. Just blank shock.
 

She was in her home, but it wasn’t hers, or wasn’t hers only. It was hers and somehow it was also Will Dougherty’s. And she’d agreed to—what? Wait him out? Convince him to give it up to her?
Hey, dude, I know you built this with your teeth and all, and besides, you hate my guts and also you’re unscrupulous and evil, but let’s put all that aside. You can build another one. I can’t. I fell madly in love with it like it’s an extension of me. Like if I moved out, I’d lose a limb. Or my eyesight. Or my heart. So go somewhere else.

Yeah, that would go over well.
 

What the hell had she gotten herself into? They hadn’t even said anything about last night, either of them. Which was probably—no, definitely—a good thing. She could feel her cheeks flush at the thought. She’d attacked the man. She’d never done anything like that in her life. Ever.
 

And it had felt good. So good she wanted to do it again.
 

Which was why she had to get him out before nightfall.
 

She picked up her cell phone and dialed.
 

“Darcy! How’s the new place?” Her father sounded cheerful. Too bad it wouldn’t last.
 

“Hi Dad, it’s… Well…” She took a deep breath. “It’s not mine. Or rather, it’s mine and it’s also someone else’s.”
 

“Explain.” Her father’s voice was clipped.
 

She did. She left out the name of her inadvertent roommate—her father would recognize him, and she winced at the thought of his reaction to that particular bit of news. And she most definitely omitted any mention of last night’s insane encounter. Otherwise, she gave her father a complete account. When she was done, she waited for the explosion.
 

Sure enough: “Sue the bastards! Sue the real estate agent, the developer, that incompetent inspector, sue everyone. You’ll win. You have a great case. You’ll clean up.”

Darcy ran her fingers across the smooth cherrywood of the bed’s footboard. “Meanwhile, who gets the condo?”

Her father snorted. “You’re a world traveler. Sleep in a hotel, it won’t kill you. You can buy a ritzier place with your windfall.”

Out the window, Darcy could see the gentle grassy slope to the edge of the cliff, and then nothing but ocean beyond. Sparkling, dancing water. She wanted to walk outside, go down to the tiny cove, strip off her clothes, and go for a swim.
 

A hotel, her father said.
 

Another dreary beige hotel with a view of a parking lot and the smell of instant coffee and industrial-strength cleansers permeating the room, the sound of someone else’s television blaring through paper-thin walls.
 

“I want to stay. I need to stay. Blame isn’t important.”

Her father huffed into her ear. “Coward.”

She winced. She almost said,
No, you’re right, I’ll move to a hotel,
as long as he’s gone too,
but out back, behind the condos, a little girl was slithering through the grass, muddying her dress, which was hiked up to her waist. The girl stopped, peered around, shot an imaginary arrow with an imaginary bow, then got up and ran off, laughing joyously.

For a moment, Darcy pictured herself as that girl, twenty years ago. Slithering in the grass, enjoying imaginary worlds. If she’d had a permanent home. If she’d belonged somewhere.
 

“Dad. I can’t move. I just got here.”

Another impatient huff. “Fine, if you’re going to be that way. We’ll just have to force the other guy out.”

That was the good thing about the General. He moved on.
 

He gave her a phone number, ordering her to call, don’t waste any time. Use his name, and don’t take no for an answer. “Be my daughter. Make me proud. Get this done.”

When the doorbell rang two hours later, Darcy flew off the bed. She nearly ran to the front door, ignoring Will’s raised eyebrows. He was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, talking intently on his cell phone.
 

She opened the door to find a trim Hispanic man in his early thirties. He wore a snazzy gray suit and carried a stylish leather saddlebag. “Darcy, I assume? Can I come in?” He gestured with his bag.
 

“Oh. Of course.” Darcy stepped aside.
 

Rafael Cardenas looked around the living room. “I see the problem. I wouldn’t want to move out either.”

Across the room, Will narrowed his eyes, murmured into the phone, and hung up, setting it on the counter. Then he stalked over. His version of stalking, anyway, which was more like a calm lope.
 

Rafael looked him over. “And you’re the husband.”

Darcy hastily jumped in. “Not husband.”
 

“Boyfriend. You’d think that would make things easier, wouldn’t you? But you get into common law and untangling property rights, and it all gets a lot more layered. The retainer increases.” He flashed a grin.
 

Will stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels like he was starting to enjoy himself.
 

Darcy swallowed. “Not boyfriend either.”

“Sorry, of course, I meant to say ex.”
 

“It’s not a relationship thing at all.”

“Isn’t it?” Will gave her a look, then turned to Rafael. “You’re her lawyer, I’m guessing?”

“She didn’t tell you?” Rafael turned to Darcy. “You’d be surprised how often these things can be solved by simply talking. Unless there’s too much animosity.”
 

He started walking around the living room, looking carefully at all the furniture and details, trailing his hand across the kitchen counter, stopping at the back door, which he slid open. “Redwood patio. Nicely done.”
 

He stepped outside onto the deck. They both followed.
 

Will said, “Thank you. I built it.” A point in his column, no doubt.
 

Rafael frowned. “How long were you together? That affects things.”

Will smirked. “Too long. Felt like an eternity.”
 

Darcy elbowed him and stomped past to join Rafael. “We’re not together. Not a couple.” Then, unaccountably, she blushed, undercutting her argument.
 

Will glanced quickly over and then away, clearly unsettled too.
 

“Never a couple.” She said it firmly this time. No blushing.
 

Rafael paused midstep. “Platonic roommates don’t share ownership of a one-bedroom.”