CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Part of Mandy wondered exactly what number she was on DC’s list. In the past few years, she had replaced Candace’s three-date rule with her own ten-date law. No one ever stayed around long. She longed to tell Daniel she wasn’t that kind of girl.
She shivered.
His arm came around her. “We don’t have jackets. I think I should take you home. I need to get back to Chicago. I fly to New York in the morning for the paparazzi and Vandemark trials.”
“I’ve read about them.” Mandy didn’t want to think about the gorgeous socialite Daniel had dated for more than a year. “Do you have to be there for both trials?”
“Unfortunately. I hope they can be resolved quickly.”
A lone duck swam across the pond, its quacking answered from the far bank.
“Whatever you do, please promise to leave this pond here.” She would have asked for more, but shared memories of a single summer gave her little right.
Daniel nodded against Mandy’s head and pulled her closer.
Neither of them moved for several minutes. Mandy wished the fireflies were out. It would be an excuse to sit there longer.
When Hank’s great-grandson quacked, breaking the silence, Mandy forced herself to shift away from Daniel’s side. He stood and helped her to her feet. For a second she thought he would kiss her again, but he stepped back and grabbed the crutches.
He handed her the flashlight. “Can you turn it on?”
Holding the light awkwardly against her crutch, Mandy kept it aimed at the ground to not blind either of them and hopped off the blanket.
Daniel shook the blanket and folded it in half before wrapping it around her shoulders. “You’re still shivering.” He took the flashlight from her hand. Mandy tucked the blanket more tightly around herself to prevent it from sliding as she maneuvered on her crutches. Daniel guided her to the truck.
Mandy wondered if her shivering had more to do with the man than it did the dropping temperatures. Several yards from the truck, Daniel stopped and turned off the flashlight. He stepped into her space, set his hands on her waist, pulled her close, then rested his chin on her head for a moment before he spoke. “Amanda, I am not going to say I am sorry for the kiss, because I am not.”
Mandy felt the but hanging in the air.
“But I am sorry for the timing. I have some things I committed to attend to in New York with various women. Some of it is for publicity, and I can’t explain more. I don’t want you to think I am using you or—” He let the sentence hang.
“Do you usually kiss on the first date?” Mandy would have covered her mouth, but Daniel stood too close.
“Regardless of what the tabloids say, or will say, I am not a player. Back when I was at college, maybe, but not as bad as I might have been. Mr. Morgan saw to that.” He paused to lift his face to the stars. “But no, I don’t normally kiss on the first date, and I suspect you don’t either.”
Mandy hoped that didn’t call for an answer.
“But if we stand here much longer, I will probably kiss you again, and I don’t know if that is wise.”
She felt him shift away as the flashlight came back to life.
No, it wouldn’t be wise at all.
Stupid.
Double stupid.
Wonderful.
Daniel turned on the radio, hoping to find something to distract his thoughts during the nearly three-hour drive to Chicago. Love song, love ballad, polka music. Seriously?
Mandy was not some Hollywood A-lister who had grown immune to the power of a kiss, or a socialite who expected such was her due. At dinner, he’d admitted to becoming jaded, but when he kissed her tonight, he realized it was more than that. He had forgotten what real felt like.
And real was a dangerous thing. Especially when the next two weeks required he act as if he were vying for an Oscar. Why had he agreed to his legal team’s plan? At the time, the high-profile social life seemed like a good idea. But that was before Amanda had fallen back into his life. The worst part was, he couldn’t explain why he was going to spend as much time trying to get in the gossip columns as he would be sitting in the courtroom.
Not only had the DA subpoenaed his testimony for the criminal trial of the paparazzi, but Summerset’s lawyers’—or her father’s—had planned the civil suit against the hotel to coincide with the state’s prosecution of the paparazzi. It was a media frenzy in the making, and he had managed to land himself in the middle of it, as vulnerable as a bleeding diver in a shark cage.
The tones of his phone interrupted his thoughts. He answered using the car’s hands-free feature.
Thomas Morgan skipped any formalities. “Couldn’t you wait two more weeks? What is wrong with you?”
I’m not sure, but I think you are going to tell me. “What are you talking about, Morgan?”
“A date in Podunk, Indiana? They have cell phones there too! How many times must I tell you citizens with camera phones are ten times worse than the paparazzi? They post their unfiltered opinions. And there are more than a few about the art teacher and the millionaire.”
“We only had dinner.” Morgan didn’t need to know about dessert at the pond.
“I know you. That’s not your dinner face. It isn’t even your what’s-for-dessert face. And don’t try to tell me it’s just friends. That photo is of a man who is falling hook, line, and sinker. And by their comments, your fans know it too. You are no actor, as you proved last year on that reality whatever-it-was.”
Daniel concentrated on keeping his car in the lane. Morgan had to be wrong. “She is an old friend; we were catching up.”
Thomas ignored his protest and continued. “PR is having a fit. She doesn’t have a contract. Did you hear any part of their “keep to the script until the lawsuit is over” lecture? Never be seen with the same woman twice, only take out women who will mutually benefit from the exposure, and don’t get serious. Three months of carefully scheduled dates, and you go impromptu.”
“You said this Amanda is an old friend.”
“Yes. I met her the summer Grandfather kept me at his mansion.” Daniel exited the freeway.
“PR might be able to do something with that, but you had better get her on board. You didn’t do something foolish like sleep with her, did you?”
Daniel struggled to keep his voice calm. “She isn’t that type of woman.”
“Fortunately for you, I believe you. I’m not going to ask for any details, but wherever you were after the restaurant, could some amateur have taken your photo?”
“Not legally.”
“You had better hope so. And you make sure she doesn’t do an interview.”
Daniel glanced at the clock on his dash 10:58, nearly midnight in Amanda’s time zone. He’d call her in the morning.
The house had been dark when Daniel dropped her off. She had hoped he might kiss her again on the doorstep, but the lingering hug was almost as good. The silence between them had not been as awkward as it was full of promise.
Too early to go to bed and too restless to work, Mandy headed for the grocery store. The scooter carts were all available. She took one and cruised the nearly empty aisles. Candace had shopped that morning, so other than the tomatoes she had forgotten, Mandy didn’t need anything.
She stopped in the frozen-foods aisle. What would Candace think? They were years beyond the tradition, but a carton of mint chocolate chip would lead to a conversation. She was back in first-kiss territory and needed advice.
Only two checkout lines were open. Mandy steered the cart to the one closest to the door. Ahead of her, a teenage girl was bent over her phone, tapping her feet to a tune only she could hear through hot-pink earbuds. The customer in front of them left, and the girl moved up.
The scooter jerked and banged into the end of the checkout stand as Mandy tried to move close enough to deposit her purchases on the conveyor belt.
The girl spun around, her glare fading. “Miss Fowler! Is it true?”
Mandy couldn’t place the teen beyond seeing her in the hallways of the high school. “Is what true?”
The girl extended her phone. A photo of Mandy and Daniel at the restaurant filled the screen. Mandy squinted to try to make out the writing but failed.
“Wow, it’s true! You are wearing the same blouse. Is your date over already? That was quick. Is he as hot in person? Oh, ice cream—did he dump you already? I’m not surprised. Slumming it with a high school teacher. Not like you are DC’s type.”
Mandy felt the heat rising in her face.
The girl’s fingers flew over the face of her phone. Then she turned and snapped a picture.
“Excuse me? What are you doing?” Mandy tried to keep her voice steady. Ramming the cart into the presumptuous teen was tempting.
“They’re going to be so excited I saw you!”
Shoppers turned their direction. The girl answered the cashier. Mandy cursed the boot on her foot. If she wasn’t on the scooter, she would abandon the food on the conveyor belt. The girl paid the cashier, turned her back to Mandy, and raised her arm to take a selfie.
At the slightest touch, the scooter jerked toward the girl, who jumped away. “Hey, you ruined my picture.”
“Oh, pardon me.” Mandy used her teacher’s voice. “I was just trying to check out.” She smiled sweetly and turned her attention to the cashier, ignoring the curses coming from the teen.
Mandy returned the cart to its place near the exit and hobbled toward her car, bag banged against the crutches. The now-angry girl moved to block her. “I still need a photo.”
Mandy ducked her head and tried to move around her. Daniel’s advice about the paparazzi being a zit came to mind. She pictured the teen with a large one in the center of her forehead and nearly laughed out loud.
Once again, the girl moved to block her.
Only two more car lengths to her little Golf. Mandy turned between two cars, forcing the girl to run around them, then zigzagged through the cars to reach hers before the girl had a chance to get a picture.
Pulling out of the lot, Mandy hoped the girl had a warehouse-sized supply of face cream for all the zits.