Breaking the Greek's Rules (8 page)

Cal looked at her closely. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Daisy said, dropping forks in the silverware slots. “He was never the man I thought he was. He still isn’t.”

“Life sucks,” Cal said with a faint grin.

“It has some good bits,” Daisy countered, nodding toward the stairs where they could both hear Charlie banging around in the upstairs hall.

Cal’s grin widened. “You’re right. It does.” He shoved away from the doorjamb and flexed his shoulders. “I’ll be going then. Thanks for letting me take him to the park.”

“Anytime.” She walked to the front door with him and kissed him on the cheek and he gave her a hug. Then he shrugged on his jacket. “I’ll pick Charlie up Thursday morning. I told my folks we’d be up there by noon.”

Daisy nodded and forced a smile even as she felt her throat tighten. “He’ll have so much fun.”

Cal was taking Charlie to his parents’ upstate for Thanksgiving. They wouldn’t be back until Sunday morning. The thought of rattling around by herself for four days was horrible. But it was good for Charlie and for Cal and his family. It was a part of the life they’d made.

“My folks are really looking forward to it,” Cal said. He looked at her closely. “You can come if you want.” He must have seen some of the hollowness she felt.

Daisy shook her head. “Thanks, but I can’t. You know that.”

If she did Cal’s parents might think there was hope of them getting back together. They had been upset when she and Cal divorced. Now they seemed to be coming to terms with the way things were. It wouldn’t do to get their hopes up again.

“You’re probably right. No, you are right. It’s just—I’m sorry. Especially this year.”

Daisy shrugged. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’m going to
Finn and Izzy’s. It will be chaos. I’ll never miss you. What do you have planned?”

“Going fishing if the weather stays warm enough. Chopping wood otherwise. Getting ready for winter.” He grimaced.

“You’ll have fun.”

“Charlie will make it fun. He and Dad are something else when you get them together.” Cal shook his head, grinning. “Like two kids.”

“I’d guess there were three.” Daisy cocked her head and smiled at him.

Cal rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “Well, yeah.”

Their eyes met, both of them rueful.

“Moving on,” Daisy said with all the briskness she could muster.

And Cal nodded resolutely. “Moving on.”

He went out, and Daisy locked the door after him. Then she went back into the living room, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Was Alex having Thanksgiving with the woman in his life? Or was he working on one continent while she was on another?

What did she care? Daisy asked herself irritably.

She didn’t, damn it. But sometimes moving on felt curiously like walking through molasses with her shoelaces tied together. Hard and lonely.

She felt suddenly very, very cold.

F
INN
and Izzy’s at Thanksgiving
was
chaos. Finn’s nieces, Tansy and Pansy, were both there, along with Rip and Crash, Finn and Izzy’s sons, and a dozen or so other friends, several slightly giddy from having spent the night before over by the Museum of Natural History where all the gigantic balloon floats for the annual parade were being inflated.

Daisy had gone to the MacCauleys’ early and she’d stayed late. Friday she’d spent the entire day catching up on photo editing. More often than she’d liked, she’d been tempted to open the folder where Alex’s photos were.

Every time, she’d steeled herself against it and had resisted.

Saturday was harder. Her backlog of work was gone. The house was reasonably clean. The laundry was done, folded, put away. The rugs vacuumed, the furniture dusted. She supposed she could clean the oven, but that seemed like taking things too far.

Instead she took the dog Murphy for a long walk in the park, then decided to do some Christmas shopping. Closer to Christmas, stores would be jammed. Of course, they were on Saturday, too. But it wasn’t as lonely as being home by herself, wondering if Charlie and Cal were having a good time.

Wondering what Alex was doing.

It was a relief when Cal and Charlie got back late Sunday afternoon. Charlie was full of stories about hiking in the woods and stacking firewood.

“No, I didn’t let him chop it,” Cal said before she could ask.

“An’ we caught fish,” Charlie told her, hopping from one foot to the other. “We got pictures. Look.”

Daisy admired the pictures Cal had taken of Charlie and the fish. One of them, though, startled her as his expression in it was so much like Alex’s. She never thought he looked like Alex. She really didn’t know who he looked like, except that he had her color hair. But in that photo of him grinning up at his grandfather she could see that he had Alex’s profile. It made her catch her breath.

“What’s wrong?” Cal asked.

“Nothing,” she said, papering over her surprise. “I was just amazed at the size of the fish.”

“It was huuuuuge,” Charlie told her proudly. He spread his arms to their fullest extent.

“Well, maybe not quite that big,” Cal said.

But to Charlie it was the biggest fish in the world, and he’d had the best time in the world. And he proceeded to tell Daisy all about it after Cal went home and all through dinner and during his bath.

And Daisy nodded and smiled as she listened to her son’s nonstop commentary. He’d had a wonderful time. She was glad he had gone. Glad Cal and his parents had had the joy of him.

Mostly, though, she was glad he was home again.

And when she went to bed that night, she thought,
I can do this. I’m going to be fine
.

She and Cal could cope with trading Charlie back and forth. Charlie wasn’t a basket case. He was a normal happy little boy. Life was good.

She didn’t think about Alex—or his perfect woman.

At least she tried not to.

“How much longer till Christmas?” Charlie asked. He’d been asking for the past four days, ever since he’d got back from Cal’s parents’.

“Oh, a long time,” Daisy said, tucking him into bed. She’d been saying the same thing every day since, too, because a person who was Almost Five had no concept of time, and she’d quickly discovered that if she said “soon,” Charlie expected it to be “right after lunch.”

“And my birthday?”

“Not quite as long.”

Charlie made a face. “They should hurry up.”

“All in good time.” Even though she had caught up on things over Thanksgiving already, four days later, she felt her to-do lists getting longer by the minute. Lots of people suddenly remembered they wanted family photos for Christmas, and Daisy, understanding the desire, tried not to disappoint any of them.

She had other jobs, too. Most were from repeat customers who wanted her to do some editorial work, and a promo for a boutique in Soho. But one phone call the day after Thanksgiving had surprised her.

“This is Lauren Nicols,” the woman had said when Daisy answered. “You did the photos for my piece on Alexandros Antonides.”

“Oh! Yes, of course. I hope they were suitable,” Daisy said, her heart quickening.

“More than,” Lauren Nicols said warmly. “I was delighted. Alex told me you’d be good, but they were better than I’d hoped. The black and white surprised me, but it was perfect. You caught the man.”

“I hope so,” Daisy said honestly. “I tried.”

“Oh, you did,” the other woman assured her. “I wondered if you’d be willing to do some more for me.”

“Of Alex?” Daisy asked, startled.

“No, Alex’s article is in production. But I do other personality pieces for trade periodicals, usually three or four a month. Would you be interested in working with me on a couple of them at least?”

“I—” Daisy stopped herself before she could refuse, because
really, why should she? She had enjoyed doing the photo shoot of Alex, and what better way to make sure her brain kept him in the “business” folder of her mind than to start filling it with other assignments, as well? “Yes,” she had said. “I’d like that.”

And so she had two shoots for Lauren to do before the holidays, as well.

“Go to sleep,” she told Charlie now. “It will get here sooner.”

“How much sooner?”

Daisy bent and kissed him good night. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Charlie made a face. But eventually he screwed his eyes shut, and Daisy, knowing that was going to be his best attempt, smiled and turned out the light. “Night, Chaz,” she said softly. Then she pulled the door and went down the hall to her office where she’d be working until midnight at least.

First on the docket were the wedding photos she’d taken last night. Wednesday night weddings weren’t common, but this had been a small intimate affair to which Daisy had been thrilled to be invited—and eager to take the photos.

They were her wedding present to the couple because both the bride and the groom were “hers.”

Seeing Rafaela Cruz, a tech at Murphy’s veterinarian’s office, and Gino Martinelli, a cop who lived in Finn MacCauley’s building, standing at the altar together made Daisy’s heart sing for she had helped them find each other.

When she’d learned that besides being a photographer, Daisy was a matchmaker, Rafaela had said, “Huh. Not sure I believe in that.”

“Some people don’t,” Daisy had replied. She wasn’t in the market to twist anyone’s arm. But Rafaela had wanted to know more because, as she said, “I don’t believe there’s any good men left.” So Daisy had spent time talking to her, trying to discover who, beneath her bluster, Rafaela really was.

Even when she finally said she wanted to try it, Rafaela had had her doubts.

And she and Gino had definitely not been “love at first sight.”

Gino, who was Rip MacCauley’s soccer coach, had been badly burned in an earlier relationship. But somehow he was the one Daisy had thought of when Rafaela had challenged her to “prove there’s one good man.”

“Come watch him coach,” Daisy had suggested.

Rafaela had dismissed the idea. “I don’t want a coach. I want a husband.”

“You want a patient man,” Daisy said. “A man who works hard and values kids and will be there for you and your family no matter what.”

“Yes, but—” Rafaela had protested.

“Maybe Gino could be that man. Unless you’re afraid to try?” Daisy had challenged her right back. Then she’d turned around and challenged a reluctant Gino, too.

“She’s too pretty,” Gino had said. “She’ll want some hotshot stud.”

Daisy had just looked him up and down. “And you’re not a stud?”

Gino had laughed at that. “All right. Bring her on.”

They’d been cautious to the point that Daisy sometimes wanted to bang their heads together. But gradually Rafaela and Gino had faced their doubts, had given each other a shot. Had discovered in each other what Daisy had seen from early days. Over the summer they had fallen in love.

And now they were married.

Daisy’s gift to them was going to be a book of photos she’d taken throughout their courtship and at their wedding. She just needed to get it finished. The pages from the courtship were done. Now she picked up the wedding invitation and set it on the flatbed scanner. It was high rag content paper, heavy and elegant.

Daisy remembered when she’d plucked it out of the mailbox
right before Thanksgiving. She had stared at it, feeling an odd sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach because she hadn’t thought it was Rafaela and Gino’s invitation at all.

She’d thought it was Alex’s.

She’d been shocked at the relief she’d felt upon opening it to discover Rafaela’s and Gino’s names inside.

Of course, she’d told herself logically, even if Alex had run right out and asked his perfect woman to marry him the minute he’d left her that night, they wouldn’t have been sending out invitations right away.

But logic had never had much to do with anything where her relationship with Alex was concerned.

Now, taking an expansive breath, Daisy smoothed the invitation flat and lowered the lid, then pushed the scanning button.

The phone rang as it was appearing on her screen. She picked it up absently. “Daisy Connolly.”

“Daisy.” The voice was gruff and instantly recognizable. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Alex,” she said as soon as she could breathe again. “What do you want?”

“A date.”

Once more Daisy’s breath caught in her throat. Then she realized what he was really asking for. “I am not matchmaking for you.”

“I don’t want you to fix me up with a date. I want you.”

I want you
. She knew he didn’t mean it the way it sounded. She didn’t
want
him to mean it the way it sounded. But she didn’t know what he did mean, either. “What are you talking about?”

“I need a date for Saturday night.”

“
Need
a date?” That had to be a first.

“There’s a big charity fundraising dinner and dance at the Plaza. Remember I told you I designed a new wing for a hospital? Well, I’m on the guest list—and they’re giving me some plaque or something—so I have to show up. With a date.”

Daisy waited a beat. “What happened to Caroline?”

“Caroline had to fly out to Hong Kong this afternoon. Unexpected breakdown of some project she’d been overseeing. She won’t be back for a week. I can’t show up alone. I’ve already committed for two. They expect me to bring someone. Head table and all that.”

“Head table?”

He grunted. “So I need a replacement.” And apparently in his mind it was perfectly logical that she would drop everything and accompany him to some society event in another woman’s place.

Daisy focused on the wedding invitation on her screen. “Get your matchmaker to find you one.”

“Can’t.”

“Of course you can.”

“No,” Alex said tersely. “I can’t. Thanks to you.”

That startled her. “Me? Why me?”

“Because, damn it, you’re the one who told me to take it slow. ‘Don’t ask her to marry you yet. Get to know her,’ you said. Make sure she’s ‘the one.’”

He’d listened?

“So I have been. It isn’t easy because half the time I’m out of town or she is. But we’ve gone out more.”

“As well you should,” Daisy said firmly, still surprised that he’d done it.

“So I can’t ask Amalie to find me a date, can I?” Alex said. “If I went out with someone else now—someone new—what would that say to Caroline? Not to mention that I’d be creating false expectations in whoever Amalie found.”

Daisy was somewhere between dazed and amazed. “You thought of that all by yourself?” Since when had Alex put thought into the repercussions of relationships?

“Can I help it if you put ideas in my head?”

“Good for me.” She grinned in spite of herself.

“So you see the problem. It has to be you.”

Daisy pressed back against the desk chair she sat in and asked, “Why won’t I upset Caroline?”

“She knows I need a date. I told her I was going to ask you. She’ll be glad I’ve found an old friend to go with.”

“Old friend?” Daisy echoed.

“You know what I mean. So,” he went on briskly, “Saturday night. Black tie. The equivalent for you. I’ll pick you up a little before eight. Where do you live?”

“What? No! Wait. I didn’t agree.”

“So you don’t stand behind your own advice?”

Daisy opened her mouth to object, and couldn’t find words to convince herself, let alone ones that would convince as stubborn a man as Alex.

“I can’t,” she said feebly.

“Why not?”

Because I don’t have a babysitter
. She didn’t say that, even though it was certainly true. “I—My wardrobe doesn’t run to that sort of thing.”

“Get something suitable,” he directed. “I’ll pay for it.”

“You will not. I can’t—”

“Did you or did you not tell me to take my time, get to know Caroline?”

“Yes, but—” She stopped, waiting for him to cut her off, but he didn’t. He waited in silence for her next reason she couldn’t go. And she didn’t have one—other than self-protection.

Maybe she was protesting too much. Maybe going with him would be the best self-protection there could be.

Maybe spending an evening with Alexandros Antonides, going on a date with him, would actually force her to “move on” once and for all.

Last time she’d felt like Cinderella going to the ball—and she’d believed she’d found Prince Charming. If she went now, she would go with no illusions at all.

She could even dance with him—but know it ended there—know that her happy ending was waiting at home in her life with her son.

She would be in no danger of succumbing to airy-fairy fantasies. She would enjoy the evening and come home at midnight—unlike Cinderella—with both shoes on and her heart intact.

Daisy took a breath. “Yes, all right. I’ll do it.”

“Great.” He sounded pleased. “What’s your address?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

Alex argued. Daisy was adamant. He said she was being silly. She said she didn’t care.

“I’m not your real date. I don’t need to act like one. I will see myself to the Plaza and I’ll see myself home afterward.”