Pushing Up Daisies (19 page)

“I love you too, Mom. I gotta go. I’m not supposed to be on the phone.”

“Okay, baby. But do you know where you are—the address?”

The line clicked off.

Daisy leaned against the front of the Jeep and tried to summon her strength. Jay’s voice dominated her thoughts. “He’s in foster care.” She banged her fist and swallowed hard. “My poor baby.”

“Are you okay?” Ms. Christine asked, her window rolled down.

“No. That Social Services bitch put Jay in fuckin’ foster care like he’s homeless or something,” Daisy spat, too upset to watch her language in front of her mother.

Ms. Christine hopped out of the passenger side. “She did
what?
Oh, hell no! Not
my
grandson—no, she didn’t. Come on, baby. We have a lot of work to do. We can cry later. I guess they don’t know who they’re dealing with. We’re Parkers. We may bend, but we don’t break.”

“What can we do?”

“First, we get this apartment. That’s the most important thing, having a place for Jay to stay. Then we get the lawyer, and you gather your check stubs and paperwork. We’ll handle it. I don’t give a damn how much it costs. When there’s no bridge, you build one.”

Daisy and Ms. Christine slipped into the apartment building as someone walked out. Daisy had wanted to ring the bell, but Ms. Christine had insisted that they go in on their own and check out the whole building without interference from Jacob.

“It’s better to see for yourself,” she’d said. “That way, you can take your time and not miss anything. You don’t want anyone rushing you.”

After they’d inspected all ten floors, Daisy stood in front of Jacob’s apartment. She pulled a note from the door. He’d had to leave for a few minutes, and he’d instructed them to go on in.

“It must be pretty safe around here,” she said to her mother as they stepped inside.

“And he must trust us. I wouldn’t just let some stranger walk into my house when I wasn’t home.”

Daisy walked through the large apartment. She’d decided to work her way from the back to the front. She could tell that Jacob Wiles was a bachelor by his sparse furniture, almost empty kitchen cupboards, and the overall lack of detail that a feminine touch would have provided.

Daisy smirked at her own thoughts. She was supposed to be checking out the place, not the man. Still, she couldn’t help it. She picked up a picture from a distressed dresser, wondering if it was of Jacob. Something about this man she hadn’t yet met was intriguing. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she knew that it had something to do with his career, and his smile—if it was him in the photo. She’d always been attracted to educated men and found herself extremely interested in meeting him all of a sudden.
I wonder what makes him tick.

His office was in disarray, and his large bedroom seemed small because it was cluttered with books and papers. She picked up a book and nodded.
Seventeenth-century literature; he could be boring.

She returned to the living room. Overall, the apartment was nice. Not exactly what Jay had grown accustomed to, but wonderful in comparison to their last place. The building was quiet, the neighborhood safe, and there were two bedrooms.

Daisy relaxed. She was thankful and knew that Jay would be appreciative too.
I’ve lucked up again.
Given her mediocre credit history, length of employment, and small salary, she would’ve had a hard time renting a suitable place elsewhere.

“So, what do you think?” Ms. Christine asked.

“I like it.”

“I’m glad,” a deep voice said from the doorway.

Daisy turned and smiled. Jacob
was
the man in the picture, only more attractive in person. He didn’t look like his father, and she wondered what his ethnicity was. His complexion was a light, coppery brown. Her glance easily roamed his body. Slowly and carefully she memorized him like the alphabet.
Whew, he’s beautiful!
Again she looked into his trusting, gentle hazel eyes. Marveled at his curly black hair, which was cut just above his shoulders, giving him a boyish look. She wondered if he made women’s toes curl like his locks, then smiled.
Not bad at all. But a definite no-no.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in. I’m Daisy Parker. It’s nice to meet you.”

Jacob grinned and shook her hand. She melted. “It’s nice to meet you too, Ms. Daisy Parker. It is
Ms.,
isn’t it?” He held her hand a moment too long.

“Yes, it is.” She didn’t pull away.

Jacob turned his attention to Ms. Christine. “Oh, hello.”

“Hello.” Ms. Christine nodded. “You have a nice place here. Seems my daughter likes it too.” She shot Daisy an I-see-you-checking-him-out look.

“So, Ms. Daisy Parker, are you interested?”

Daisy laughed flirtatiously and wondered if he was asking about himself or his place. “Yes, as interested as I can possibly be. I want it.”

“It’s yours.”

“That easy?”

“Why, should it be difficult? I have a need, and so do you. We can blame it on economics—supply and demand.”

Daisy licked her lips. “Yes, economics.”

“I’m sorry, do you two want me to leave?” Ms. Christine chuckled.

“No, please stay,” Jacob said.

“So how much is the rent, Jacob?”

“Just the monthly maintenance fee.” He grabbed a pen and paper, jotted something down, and handed it to Daisy.

“You’re just like your father,” she said. “He writes down all of his figures.” She handed the paper to Ms. Christine. “I’ll take it.”

“And dinner too?” Jacob asked.

“With or without dessert?”

Ms. Christine stood. “Okay, that’s enough. I
am
sitting in this room—”

“Ma, we’re talking about food.”

“Mmm-hmm. I know. I’m old, but I’m not deaf. I can hear what you’re really saying. It was nice to meet you, Jacob.” Ms. Christine headed toward the front door, then turned to Daisy and whispered, “Don’t be foolish. What looks good to you may not be good for you. Too much to risk, and maybe nothing to gain. Remember, he’s going away for a year.”

Daisy hummed as she covered her body in shimmering pear-scented lotion. It had been a while since she’d been in the company of a man, and she intended not only to look her best, but smell edible. Despite Ms. Christine’s protests, she had agreed to meet Jacob for dinner. She needed to be wined, dined, and entertained as much as she wanted to be in his presence.

Since that first meeting, she had thought of him constantly. She hadn’t felt so full of desire since Adonis. Licking her lips, she stood in front of the mirror and shimmied into a hips-ass-and-breasts red dress, as Ming Li liked to call formfitting clothes. She tousled her hair and put on translucent red lip-gloss. She puckered and blew herself a kiss.

“Ma, I’m leaving!” she hollered, running down the stairs.

Ms. Christine emerged from the kitchen. “Okay. But I still don’t think you should go.”

“Why?”

“You know why. Plus, there are other reasons.”

Daisy kissed Ms. Christine on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

“Adonis called.”

Daisy turned. “What?”

“He said he was going to—”

“Never mind, Ma. I’m not ready to deal with that now. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, but don’t blame me when—”

“Love you!” Daisy called back as she walked out.

Daisy glanced at her watch. It was only 7:35, and she wasn’t supposed to meet Jacob until eight. She’d decided to arrive before him because she hated the feeling of being watched when she walked into a room. As she walked down Bleecker Street, the whipping wind stung her skin and blew her dress against her legs. She drew her charcoal-gray wool wrap tighter around her. It was hard to be cold and cute at the same time.

“Finally,” she said, as she entered Agozar’s, a cozy, trendy Cuban restaurant.

She sat on one of the colorful, padded barstools facing the entrance, ordered a Pasión de Agozar, and took in the atmosphere. The warm, gold-toned walls seemed to dance in the illumination of the flickering candles. Red and moss-green fabrics seemed to announce the upcoming holiday season. Cuban beats coupled with African drums made the standing crowd move with a slight bounce. The seated onlookers were tapping their feet.

Daisy closed her eyes and swayed to the music. She understood little Spanish but knew enough to tell that it was a song about love, and maybe loss. It had an “I’m sorry” quality to it. Feeling a presence looming over her, she opened her eyes. And froze.

Adonis was standing next to her, sandwiched between her barstool and the one beside her. His leg was touching her thigh, his eyes sucking her in.

“Would you like another?” he asked, pointing to her drink.

Daisy dropped her gaze guiltily. “I’m okay. Thanks anyway.” She checked her watch again: 7:50.
Damn. Jacob could show up any minute.

“You look exceptionally nice. You meeting someone?”

Daisy pretended to be immersed in the hypnotic flow of the music. He could ask her anything else, but not that.

“Well?” he persisted.

“No. Yes. No. Listen, I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back.” She gaited toward the ladies’ room to call Jacob.

In the bathroom, she hesitated. What excuse could she come up with? She dialed his cell number and prayed that he wasn’t close to the restaurant. She breathed a sigh of relief when his voice mail came on.

“Hi, Jacob, it’s Daisy. I’m at Agozar’s, and I can’t stay. Something unexpected’s come up. I’m so sorry. I’ll explain later, and I hope you’ll allow me to make it up to you.”

She walked out of the bathroom and checked her watch again: 7:55. She slowed her pace and paused to see if Jacob had arrived.
Good.
He was nowhere in sight. She searched for Adonis. If his back was turned, she could make a clean getaway and avoid his questions. She spotted him sitting at the bar, facing the bartender. She held her breath, snaked easily—guiltily—through the crowd, and slipped out the door. Once outside, she tried to blend in with the people walking down the street.

Then a hand touched her shoulder.

Oh, God.
She turned, praying it wasn’t Jacob or Adonis. No such luck.