Mother, Please! (3 page)

A
PRIL SPENT
much of the next few days on automatic pilot, going to work and shopping for Christmas, which was only a week away. It was difficult to feel any holiday cheer, however, when all she could think about was her parents. She couldn’t let things go on as they were. Her mother had gotten a tattoo yesterday, a rose on her hip, then cried all afternoon, refusing to say why she was so upset. Her father’s temper was shorter than ever, and he was having chest pains. Chest pains!

April had never seen either of them so unhappy. Clearly they needed to stop slinging blame, figure out why they fell in love in the first place and find that again. There was no other way to put an end to the emotional turmoil, no other way to stop the fighting over assets, which promised to go on for months.

From her home office, April heard her mother banging around in the kitchen. Because Claire was still trying to lose weight, she was broiling fish for
dinner. She made fish almost every night, which meant the house always smelled of it.

As much as April loved her mother, she missed the old peace and quiet, the absence of fish odor, the privacy. She longed for the holidays as she used to know them—filled with eggnog and ham and her mother’s fudge. But more than anything, she wanted control of her own home again. She had to do
something
before she became desperate enough to let her father set her up with Keith as her only escape.

“Are you going to join me, April?” her mother called.

April felt nauseated by the smell alone. “No thanks, I’m fine.”

“You need to eat some of this fish. It has vitamins that are difficult to get anywhere else.”

“I’m not hungry, Mom.”

“I ate a lot of fish when I was pregnant with you. That’s why you’re so smart. Have just a small portion, and a little spinach.”

Maybe life with a man she didn’t love wouldn’t be so bad. “I ate on the way home from work,” she lied, and opened the window to ventilate the room, even though the breeze coming in off the ocean was a chill one.

“I’ll make you a plate, just in case you get hungry later,” her mother called.

April used her finger to smooth away an eye twitch and sat down again. How could she convince her parents that they were better off together than apart?

Opening her desk drawer, she withdrew Gunner Stevens’s business card and ran her thumb over the smooth embossing. April hated to see Ashton Automotive leave the family, but nothing was more important than keeping her father well. If she could talk Gunner into coming to Cabo, Walt would have a good chance of saving the deal. Better yet, Walt and Claire would be thrown together on a number of occasions while he was on his best behavior, in a setting that just might rekindle what they felt when they became engaged thirty-four years ago.

It was a long shot, but since her parents were both going to be in Cabo anyway, it was the best plan April could come up with. Getting her parents back together was all she wanted for Christmas. Besides, her mother’s association with Rod had suggested a way Gunner could help her—if he would.

“April, do you mind if I paint the living room?” her mother asked loudly. “White’s so drab. I was thinking a light pink would brighten things up. And maybe I could put up a few of my paintings. I’ve done six now, you know.”

Pink in the living room? Together with her mother’s artwork? Claire had started taking water
color classes two months ago and had yet to create anything April wanted hanging in her closet, let alone anyplace more public. Why couldn’t Claire concentrate on decorating the tree?

That was it. April called Gunner.

“Hello?”

He’d answered his own telephone. “Mr. Stevens?”

“Don’t tell me, it’s April Ashton.”

She gave a little laugh, suddenly grateful she’d fought the impulse to hang up as soon as she’d recognized his voice. “Caller ID?”

“Yes. What can I do for you?”

“I have a business proposal you might be interested in hearing,” she said, deciding to be as forthright as possible.

A startled silence followed this announcement.

“Mr. Stevens?”

“It’s Gunner, remember?”

“Right, Gunner.”

“What kind of business proposal?” he asked, and she pictured him narrowing his eyes.

“At the Christmas party, you told my father you have commitments back East this January, but if you could possibly arrange it, I’d like you to come to Cabo with Ashton Automotive.”

“Why?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I think it probably
is
time for my father to sell the business.”

Her words met with a weighty pause. “To what do I owe this reversal?”

“My father’s getting older and—well, anything could happen to a man his age, right?” She purposely didn’t mention Walt’s heart trouble for fear Gunner would think this had suddenly become a fire sale.

“I’m not sure what you’re offering, Miss Ashton.”

“April. I’m saying my mother and I will support your efforts to purchase the business, if you want.”

“If I want,” he echoed.

“That’s what I said.”

“And what do
you
get out of it?”

This was where her plan became a bit questionable. “I’m looking for a temporary—” she swallowed tightly and squeezed out the last word “—escort.”

“A
what?
”

“An escort, um, of sorts.”

“Where would we be going?” He sounded justifiably leery.

“Just to Cabo.”

“You want me to be your escort the whole week we’re in Mexico?”

“A week’s not that long, Mr. Ste—Gunner.”
Gathering her nerve, she rushed on. “And don’t worry, you won’t have to do anything special. When you see or speak to my father, just go along with the story that we started communicating on the telephone and e-mailing each other after the Christmas party and that our relationship has evolved into a friendship with some…romantic hope.”

“You mean it?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

Nothing.

“Are you still there?” she asked.

“Explain romantic hope,” he said.

April tried to forget the pleasant feeling of his muscular arms around her while they danced so she could make “romantic hope” sound as clinical as possible. She might not agree with Gunner Stevens’s mentality, but she sure couldn’t complain about any of his physical characteristics. “I need you to act as though you’re interested in me, just for a few days. You should probably hold my hand occasionally, or put your arm around me. But we’ll never even have to kiss. We’ll become disenchanted with each other toward the end of the trip. Then you’ll be off the hook—but before that, my mother and I will be your biggest advocates and we won’t do anything to stand in your way afterward.”

“You seem to have it all figured out, April.”

Was that skepticism she heard? “I do,” she said.

“Except you still haven’t told me your purpose in creating this charade.”

“I’m hoping to convince my father that I can find a man on my own. Otherwise he’s going to try and force me into the arms of his balding, middle-aged, soft-spoken plant manager.”

“I see. But why me?”

“If you still want to buy Ashton Automotive, you have business in Cabo, which gives you good reason to be there. And from what I know about you, I can safely say there’s no danger either one of us will get hurt by this…well-intentioned deception.”

“You’re sure of that.”

She sat up taller. Maybe he didn’t seem excited by the idea, but she took heart from the fact that he hadn’t refused her yet. “Of course. Even my parents won’t be surprised when it blows up.”

“Because…”

She knew he was baiting her, but she wanted to voice her honest opinion. “Can I be frank?”

“Please do.”

“Because you and I both know I’ll just be one more in a long line of women who’ve passed through your life. Easy come, easy go. No problem.”

“You’re saying I’m too shallow for a girl like you, an
intellectual
to take seriously.”

She sensed a dangerous undertone to his words and changed tactics. “There’s no need to interpret it that way. You’re too busy with better candidates to spend much time with me. That’s all.”

Surely Gunner would be happy with
that
response, April thought with a smug smile. It was exactly the kind of thing a man with a huge ego would relish.

Silence stretched between them once again, and she supposed he was thinking it over. “This is a pretty crazy scheme for someone as logical as a physicist,” he said at last.

April couldn’t restrain her desperation any longer. “It’s all about chaos, Gunner. Not logic. I haven’t been able to work. I haven’t been able to sleep. I
have
to get my mother out of my house.”

“I suppose there’s a connection in your mind between me being your escort in Mexico and your mother moving out?”

“Oh, there is. My mother’s coming to Cabo, too.”

“And Rod and Regina?”

“They’re staying behind.”

“So this is a matchmaking ploy. You’re trying to get your parents back together.”

“God, am I ever.”

He surprised her by chuckling. “Okay. I’m in.”

Relieved, April tossed his card back into her drawer.
“Really?”

“You bet. If I’m hearing you correctly, you’re going to foil your father’s matchmaking plans while advancing your own. Sounds like it should work.”

“Exactly!” She smiled, trying to be positive. She’d convinced him; Gunner was coming to Mexico. But there was something about his attitude that made her nervous….

G
UNNER HAD RACED CARS
since he was old enough to drive. He’d reached speeds in excess of two hundred miles an hour, facing mortality without a moment’s fear. But he hated flying. Probably because he had to trust someone else at the controls. In any case, his stomach tensed as he took off from JFK Airport and stayed that way during the entire miserable ten-hour trip, which included two layovers, one in Houston and one in Phoenix.

Feeling rumpled and tired but relieved, he stepped off the plane into the dazzling Mexican sun and slipped on his sunglasses to survey, for the first time, Baja California. He had one week to spend in Cabo, one week of playing boyfriend for April Ashton, and after suffering through the holidays alone, he was actually looking forward to the distraction.

There were a few exotic flowering plants here
and there at the airport, but the surrounding area was basically flat and desertlike. The customs officer mentioned, in heavily accented English, that Cabo San Lucas received only a few inches of rain each year, which explained the cactus and sand. But Gunner didn’t mind the dryness. It was bitterly cold and snowing in New York when he left, and he’d heard that the golfing in Cabo was surpassed only by the fishing.

Besides, his father had called yesterday and asked him to visit—since Gunner had claimed to be unavailable for Christmas. As much as he knew he should spend some time with Quincy Sr., that he should forgive his father as his mother had always encouraged him to do, this trip had given Gunner a good excuse to postpone the reunion yet again.

Finally beginning to relax, he saw the porter holding a placard with his name and let the man take his bag and load it into the limousine that Walt had sent to collect him. Then Gunner slid into the dark, air-conditioned interior to find April Ashton waiting for him.

“Thanks for coming,” she said as soon as he spotted her sitting quietly in the far corner.

He was rather surprised to see her wearing a short skirt. Somehow he hadn’t expected April Ashton to possess such pretty legs. But it was her tight-fitting T-shirt, which advertised a local bar called the Wig
gling Marlin, that really tempted his eye. April was skinny, but not without shape, he conceded as he took in her small but firm-looking breasts. “I’m sure it’ll prove interesting,” he said. “I’ve never pretended to be anyone’s lover before.”

“Lover?” She glanced at him as if she didn’t know how to take his comment, and he hid a smile. She thought she could dangle Ashton Automotive in front of him the way her father did, and that he’d simply perform the role she’d chosen for him. But he was determined to control everything that went on down here.

“Isn’t that what you said on the phone?” he asked, playing innocent. “That you wanted me to come down here and pretend we’re having a torrid affair?”

“I didn’t say anything about
torrid,
and you know it.”

“Oh.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Then perhaps I should have mentioned that my idea of a relationship ‘with romantic interest’ is a little different than yours.”

The chauffeur started the car and they moved away from the airport. “You’re joking, right?” she said, beginning to squirm.

He watched her for several seconds, struggling to hold back a grin. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re joking.”

“Of course I’m joking,” he said. “I know
torrid
is well beyond someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” she echoed.

“An intellectual, remember? Someone who’s prim. Someone who looks down her nose at a womanizer like me.”

“You say ‘intellectual’ and…and ‘prim’ as if you really mean ‘uptight virgin.”’

He could only keep a straight face by biting the inside of his cheek.
“Really?”

She folded her arms beneath those firm breasts he’d noticed earlier and crossed her legs. “You’re jumping to some pretty big conclusions, Mr. Stevens.”

“I am? I didn’t realize.”

“For starters, I’m not a virgin.”

He rumpled his brow as if seriously considering her words. For someone so smart, she was amazingly easy to bait. “You’re not?”

“Of course not. I might not get out much, but I’m not completely naive.” She frowned at the closed window separating them from the chauffeur and lowered her voice as though she was still worried about being overheard. “I was only eighteen when I lost my virginity.”

He coughed to keep from laughing. “Is that so? Who was the lucky guy?”

“Bill Sossaman. He used to be one of my father’s attorneys.”

“An older man?”