CHAPTER FOUR

“YOU KNOW WHAT I’m in the mood for?” Angela Lansky said as she sat on the edge of Robin’s desk early Monday afternoon.

“I certainly hope you’re going to say food,” Robin teased. The two shared the same lunch hour and were celebrating a cost-of-living raise by eating out.

“A shrimp salad,” Angela elaborated. “Heaped six inches high with big fresh shrimp.”

“I was thinking Chinese food myself,” Robin said, “but, now that you mention it, shrimp salad sounds good.” She opened her bottom drawer and withdrew her purse.

Angela was short and enviably thin with thick brown hair that fell in natural waves over her slim shoulders. She used clips to hold the abundant curls away from her face and looked closer to twenty than the thirty-five Robin knew her to be.

“I know just the place,” Angela insisted. “The Blue Crab. It’s on the wharf and worth the trouble of getting there.”

“I’m game,” Robin said.

They stopped at the bank to deposit their cheques, and then headed for the restaurant. They decided to catch the Market Street cable car to Fisherman’s Wharf. After purchasing their tokens they joined the quickly growing line.

“So how’s the kid doing?” Angela asked. She and her salesman husband didn’t plan to have children themselves, but Angela enjoyed hearing about Jeff.

“He signed up for baseball through the park program and starts practice this week. I think it’ll be good for him. He was terribly lonely this weekend now that Blackie’s back with Cole.”

“But isn’t Blackie over at your place as much as he was before?” Angela asked.

Robin shook her head. “Cole left early Saturday morning and apparently took his dog with him. Jeff moped around for most of the weekend like a lost puppy, so to speak.”

“Where’d your handsome neighbour go?”

“Good grief, how am I supposed to know that?” Robin countered with a soft laugh, hiding her disappointment at his disappearance. “Cole doesn’t clear his schedule with me.”

The way he’d left—without a word of farewell or explanation—still hurt. It was the kind of hurt that came from realising what a complete fool she’d made of herself with this worldly, sophisticated man. He’d kissed her and she’d started weeping. Good lord, he was probably doing back flips in order to avoid seeing her again, and she couldn’t blame him.

“Do you think Cole was with a woman?”

“That’s none of my business!”

“But I thought your neighbour said Cole spent his weekends with a woman friend.”

Robin didn’t remember mentioning that to Angela, but she obviously had, along with practically everything else. Robin had tried to convince herself that confiding in Angela about Cole was a clever way of thwarting her friend’s matchmaking efforts. Unfortunately, the whole thing had backfired in her face. In the end the last person she wanted to talk about was Cole, but of course Angela persisted in questioning her.

“Well?” Angela demanded. “Did he spend his weekend with a woman or not?”

“What he does with his time is his business, not mine,” Robin reiterated. She pretended not to care. But she did. Too damn much. She’d promised herself she wasn’t going to put any stock in the kiss or the powerful attraction she felt for Cole. Within the space of one evening, she’d wiped out every pledge she’d made to herself. She hadn’t said anything to Jeff—how could she?—but she was just as disappointed as he was that Cole had left for the weekend.

“I was hoping something might develop between the two of you,” Angela murmured. “Since you’re obviously not interested in meeting Frank, it would be great if you got something going with your neighbour.”

Robin cast her a plaintive look that suggested otherwise. “Cole Camden lives in the fanciest house in the neighbourhood. He’s a partner in the law firm of Blackwell, Burns and Dailey, which we both know is one of the most prestigious in San Francisco. And he drives a car with a name I can barely pronounce. Now what would someone like that see in me?”

“Lots of things,” Angela countered.

Robin snickered. “I hate to disillusion you, my friend, but the only thing Cole Camden and I have in common is the fact that my small yard borders his massive one.”

“Maybe,” Angela agreed, raising her eyebrows. “But I noticed something different about you from the first time you mentioned him.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It isn’t,” Angela insisted. “I’ve watched you with other men over the past few years. A guy will show some interest, and at first everything looks peachy-keen. You’ll go out with him a couple of times, maybe even more, but before anything serious can develop you’ve broken off the relationship without ever really giving it a chance.”

Robin didn’t have much of an argument, since that was true, but she made a token protest just the same. “I can’t help it if I have high standards.”

“High standards!” Angela choked back a laugh. “That’s got to be the understatement of the century. You’d find fault with Prince Charming.”

Robin rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hold back a smile. Angela was right, although that certainly hadn’t slowed her matchmaking efforts.

“From the time you first mentioned your neighbour,” Angela went on, “I noticed something different about you, and frankly I’m thrilled. In all the years we’ve known each other, this is the first time I can remember you giving a man this much attention. Until now, it’s always been the other way around.”

“I’m not interested in Cole,” she mumbled. “Oh, honestly, Angela, I can’t imagine where you come up with these ideas. I think you’ve been reading too many romance novels.”

Angela waved her index finger under Robin’s nose. “Listen, my friend, I’m on to you. You’re not going to divert me with humour, or weasel your way out of admitting it. You can’t fool me—you’re attracted to this guy and it’s frightening you to death. Right?”

The two women gazed solemnly at each other, both too stubborn to admit defeat. Under the force of her friend’s unyielding determination, Robin was the one who finally gave in.

“All right!” she cried, causing the other people waiting for the cable car to turn and stare. “All right,” she repeated in a whisper. “I like Cole, but for the life of me I don’t understand it.”

Angela’s winged brows arched speculatively. “He’s attractive and wealthy, crazy about your son, generous and kind, and you haven’t figured it out yet?”

“He’s also way out of my league.”

“I wish you’d quit categorising yourself. You make it sound as though you aren’t good enough for him, and that’s ridiculous.”

Robin just sighed.

The cable car appeared then, its bell clanging as it drew to a stop. Robin and Angela boarded and held on tightly.

Jeff loved hearing about the history of the cable cars, and Robin loved telling him the story. Andrew Hallidie had designed them because of his deep love for horses. Day after day, Hallidie had watched them struggling up and down the treacherous hills of the city, carting heavy burdens. Prompted by his concern for the animals, he’d invented the cable cars that are pulled by a continuously moving underground cable. To Jeff and to many others, Andrew Hallidie was a hero.

Robin and Angela were immediately caught up by the festive atmosphere of Fisherman’s Wharf. The rows of fishing boats along the dock bobbed gently with the tide, and although Robin had never been to the Mediterranean the view reminded her of pictures she’d seen of French and Italian harbours.

The day was beautiful, the sky blue and cloudless, the ocean sparkling the way it did on a summer day. The entire spring had been exceptionally warm. It wasn’t uncommon for Robin to wear a winter coat in the middle of July, especially in the mornings when there was often a heavy fog accompanied by a cool mist from the Bay. But this spring, they’d experienced some lovely weather, including today’s.

“Let’s eat alfresco,” Angela suggested, spying a free table outside the restaurant.

“All right,” Robin agreed cheerfully. The Blue Crab was a popular restaurant and one of several in a long row that lined the wharf. More elegant dining took place inside, but the pavement was crowded with diners interested in a less formal meal.

Once they were seated, Robin and Angela were waited on quickly, and they promptly ordered their shrimp salads.

“So,” Angela murmured, spreading her napkin over her lap while closely studying Robin. “Tell me more about your neighbour.”

Robin froze. “I thought we were finished with this subject. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’d prefer not to discuss Cole.”

“I noticed, but unfortunately I was just getting started. It’s a novelty for you to be so keen on a man, and I know hardly anything about him. It’s time, Robin Masterson, to tell all.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I already told you everything I care to,” Robin answered crossly. She briefly wondered if Angela had guessed that Cole had kissed her. At the rate things were going, she was probably going to drag it out of her before lunch was over. Robin sincerely wished she could think of some clever way to change the subject.

Tall glasses of iced tea arrived and Robin was reaching for a packet of sugar when she heard a masculine chuckle that reminded her instantly of Cole. She paused, savouring the husky sound. Without really meaning to, she found herself scanning the tables, certain Cole was seated only a short distance away.

“He’s here,” she whispered before she could guard her tongue.

“Who?”

“Cole. I just heard him laugh.”

Pushing back her chair in order to get a fuller view of the inside dining area, Robin searched through a sea of faces, but didn’t find her neighbor’s.

“What’s he look like?” Angela whispered.

Ten different ways to describe him shot through her mind. To say he had brown hair, neatly trimmed, coffee-coloured eyes and was about six foot two seemed inadequate. To add that he was strikingly attractive in ways she didn’t know how to explain further complicated the problem.

“Tell me what to look for,” Angela insisted. “Come on, Robin, this is a golden opportunity. I want to get a good look at this guy. I’m not about to let a chance like this slip through my fingers. I bet he’s gorgeous.”

Reluctantly, Robin continued to scan the diners, but she didn’t see anyone who remotely resembled Cole. Even if she did see him, she wasn’t completely sure she’d point him out to Angela, although she hated to lie. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to. Perhaps she’d imagined the whole thing. It would have been easy enough to do. Angela’s questions had brought Cole to the forefront of her mind; they’d just been discussing him and it was only natural for her to—

Her heart pounded against her rib cage with the force of a wrecking ball as Cole walked out of the restaurant foyer. He wasn’t alone. A tall, slender woman with legs that seemed to go all the way to her neck and a figure as shapely and athletic as a dancer’s was standing at his side. She was blond and, in a word, gorgeous. Robin felt as appealing as milk weed in comparison. The woman’s arm was delicately tucked in Cole’s, and she was smiling up at him with eyes big and blue enough to turn heads.

Robin’s stomach tightened into a hard knot.

“Robin,” Angela said anxiously, leaning toward her, “what is it?”

Cole was strolling past them, and in an effort not to be seen, Robin quickly stuck her head under the table pretending to search for her purse.

“Robin,” Angela muttered, lowering her own head and peeking under the linen tablecloth, “what’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.” Other than the fact that she was going to be ill. Other than the fact that she’d never been more outclassed in her life. “I’m fine, really.” A smile trembled on her pale lips.

“Then what are you doing with your head under the table?”

“I don’t suppose you’d believe my napkin fell off my lap?”

“No.”

A pair of shiny black shoes appeared. Slowly, reluctantly, Robin twisted her head and glanced upward, squinting at the flash of sunlight that nearly blinded her. It was their waiter. Heaving a giant sigh of relief, Robin straightened. The first thing she noticed was that Cole had left.

The huge shrimp salads were all but forgotten as Angela, eyes narrowed and elbows braced on the table, confronted her. “You saw him, didn’t you?”

It wouldn’t do any good to pretend otherwise, so Robin nodded.

“I take it he was with someone?”

“Not just someone! Miss Universe was draped all over his arm.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Angela said. “Don’t you think you’re jumping to conclusions? Honestly, she could have been anyone.”

“Right.” Any fight left in Robin had long since evaporated. There was nothing like seeing Cole with another woman to bring her firmly back to earth—which was right where she belonged.

“She could have been a client.”

“She probably was,” Robin concurred, reaching for her fork. She didn’t know how she was going to manage one shrimp, let alone a whole plate of them. Heaving another huge sigh, she plowed her fork into the heap of plump pink darlings. It was then that she happened to glance across the street. Cole and Miss Universe were walking along the sidewalk, gazing intently at each other. For some reason, known only to the fates, Cole looked across the street at that very moment. His gaze instantly narrowed in on her. He stopped midstride as though shocked to have seen her.

Doing her best to pretend she hadn’t seen him, Robin took another bite of her salad and chewed vigorously. When she glanced up again, Cole was gone.

* * *

“MOM, I NEED SOMEONE to practise with,” Jeff pleaded. He stood forlornly in front of her, a baseball mitt in one hand, a ball in the other.

“I thought Jimmy was practising with you.”

“He had to go home and then Kelly tossed me a few pitches, but she had to go home, too. Besides, she’s a girl.”

“What am I?” Robin muttered. “Chopped liver?”

“You’re a mom,” Jeff answered, clearly not understanding her question. “Don’t you see? I’ve got a chance of making pitcher for our team if I can get someone to practise with me.”

“All right,” Robin agreed, grumbling a bit. She set aside her needlepoint and followed her son into the backyard. He handed her his old catcher’s mitt, which barely fit her hand, and positioned her with her back to Cole’s yard.

Robin hadn’t been able to completely avoid her neighbour in the past week, but she’d managed to keep her distance. For that matter, he didn’t seem all that eager to run into her, either. Just as well, she supposed.

He stayed on his side of the hedge. She stayed on hers.

If he passed her on his way to work, he gave an absent wave. She returned the gesture.

If they happened to be outside at the same time, they exchanged smiles and a polite greeting, but nothing more. It seemed, although Robin couldn’t be sure, that Cole spent less time outside than usual. For that matter so did she.

“OK,” Jeff called, running to the end of their yard. “Squat down.”

“I beg your pardon?” Robin shouted indignantly. “I agreed to play catch with you. You didn’t say anything about having to squat!”

“Mom,” Jeff said impatiently, “think about it. If I’m going to be the pitcher, you’ve got to be the catcher, and all catchers have to be low to the ground.”

Muttering complaints under her breath, Robin sank to her knees, worried the grass would stain her jeans.

Jeff tossed his arms into the air in abject frustration. “Not like that!” He said something more that Robin couldn’t quite make out—something about why couldn’t moms be guys.

Reluctantly, Robin assumed the posture he wanted, but she didn’t know how long her knees would hold out. Jeff wound up his arm and let loose with a fastball. Robin closed her eyes, stuck out the mitt and was so shocked when she caught the ball that she toppled backward into the wet grass.

“You all right?” Jeff yelled, racing toward her.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she shouted back, discounting his concern as she brushed the dampness from the seat of her jeans. She righted herself, assumed the position and waited for the second ball.

Jeff raced back to his mock pitcher’s mound, gripped both hands behind his back and stepped forward. Robin closed her eyes again. Nothing happened. She opened her eyes cautiously, puzzled about the delay. Then she recalled the hand movements she’d seen pitchers make in the movies and flexed her fingers a few times.

Jeff straightened, placed his hand on his hip and stared at her. “What was that for?”

“It’s a signal…I think. I saw the guy in the movie Bull Durham do it.”

“Mom, leave that kind of stuff to the guys in the movies. All I want you to do is catch my pitches and throw them back. It might help if you kept your eyes open, too.”

“I’ll try.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

Robin suspected she heard a tinge of sarcasm in her son’s voice. She didn’t know what he was getting so riled up about; she was doing her best. It was times such as these that she most longed for Lonny. When her parents had still lived in the area, Jeff’s grandfather had stepped in whenever her son needed a father’s guiding hand, but they’d moved to Arizona a couple of years ago. Lonny’s family had been in Texas since just before his death. Robin hadn’t seen them since the funeral, although Lonny’s mother faithfully sent Jeff birthday and Christmas gifts.

“You ready?” Jeff shouted.

“Ready.” Squinting, Robin stuck out the mitt, prepared to do her best to catch the silly ball, since it seemed so important to her son. Once more he swung his arms behind him and stepped forward. Then he stood there, poised to throw, for what seemed an eternity. Her knees were beginning to ache.

“Are you going to throw the ball, or are you going to stare at me all night?” she asked after a long moment had passed.

“That does it,” Jeff shouted, tossing his mitt to the ground. “You just broke my concentration.”

“Well, for crying out loud, what’s there to concentrate about?” Robin muttered, rising awkwardly to her feet. Her legs had started to lose feeling, the way she’d crouched there, balanced on her toes.

“This isn’t working,” Jeff cried, stalking toward her. “Kelly’s only in third grade and she does a better job than you do.”

Robin decided to let that comment pass. She pressed her hand to the small of her back, hoping to ease the ache she was beginning to feel.

“Hello, Robin. Jeff.”

Cole’s voice came at her like a hangman’s noose. She straightened abruptly and winced at the sharp pain that shot through her back.

“Hi, Mr Camden!” Jeff shouted as though Cole was a conquering hero returned from the war. He raced across the yard, past Robin and straight to the hedge. “Where have you been all week? I’ve hardly seen you.”

“I’ve been busy.” He might have been talking to Jeff, but his eyes were holding Robin’s. She tried to look away—but she couldn’t.

His eyes told her she was avoiding him.

Hers answered that he’d been avoiding her.

His said it was time for things to change.

Her eyes suggested she’d rather things continue as they were.

“I guess you have been busy,” Jeff was saying. “I haven’t seen you in days and days and days.” Blackie squeezed through the hedge and Jeff fell to his knees, his arms circling the dog’s neck lovingly.

“So how’s the baseball going?” Cole asked.

Jeff sent his mother a disgusted look, then shrugged. “All right, I guess.”

“What position are you playing?”

“Probably outfield. I had a chance to make pitcher, but I can’t seem to get anyone who knows how to catch a baseball to work with me. Kelly tries, but she’s a girl and I hate to say it, but my own mother is worthless.”

“I did my best,” Robin felt obliged to remind him.

“She catches with her eyes closed,” Jeff said.

“How about if you toss a few balls at me?” Cole offered.

Jeff blinked as if he thought he’d misunderstood their neighbour. “You want me to throw you a few pitches? You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

The look on her son’s face defied description as Cole hopped over the hedge. Jeff’s smile stretched from one side of his face to the other as he tore to the opposite side of the yard, unwilling to question Cole’s generosity a second time.

For an awkward moment, Robin stayed where she was, not knowing what to say. Her heart was full of gratitude, as full as Jeff’s smile. She looked up at Cole, her emotions soaring—and tangling like kite strings in a brisk wind. She was deeply grateful for his offer, but also confused. Thrilled by his presence, but also frightened.

“Mom?” Jeff muttered. “In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re in the way.”

“Are you going to make coffee and invite me in for a chat later?” Cole asked quietly.

Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. “I have some things that need to be done, and…and…”

“Mom?” Jeff shouted a second time.

“I think it’s time you and I talked,” Cole said, staring straight into her eyes.

“Mom, are you moving or not?”

She tossed a frantic look over her shoulder. “Oh…oh, sorry,” she whispered, blushing. Robin hurried away, then stood on the patio watching as the ball flew across the yard a couple of times with a speed that amazed her.

After catching a dozen of Jeff’s pitches, Cole got up and walked over to her son. They spoke for several minutes. Reluctantly, Robin decided it was time to go back in.

It astonished her how hard and loud her heart was pounding. She busied herself wiping counters that were already perfectly clean and tried to stop thinking about the beautiful woman she’d seen with Cole on the Wharf.

Jeff stormed into the house fifteen minutes later. “Mom, would it be all right if Mr Camden strings up an old tyre from the apple tree?”

“I suppose. Why?”

“He said I can use it to practise pitching, and I wouldn’t need to trouble you or Kelly.”

“I don’t think I have an old tyre.”

“Don’t worry, Mr Camden has one.” He ran outside again before she could comment.

Jeff was back in the yard with Cole a few minutes later, far too soon to suit Robin. She forced a weak smile to her lips. That other woman was a perfect damsel to his knight in shining armour, she thought wryly. Robin, on the other hand, considered herself more of a court jester.

Her musings were abruptly halted when Cole walked into the kitchen, trailed by her son.

“Isn’t it time for you to take your bath, Jeff?” Cole asked pointedly.

It looked for a minute as though the boy was going to argue. For the first time in recent memory, Robin would have welcomed some resistance from him.

“I guess,” he said. Bathing was about as popular as homework.

“I didn’t make any coffee,” Robin said in a small voice. She simply couldn’t look at Cole and not see the beautiful blonde on his arm.

“That’s fine. I’m more interested in talking than drinking coffee, anyway,” he said. He walked purposefully to the table and pulled out a chair. He gestured for her to sit down.

Robin didn’t. Instead, she examined her watch. “My goodness, will you look at the time?”

“No.” Cole headed towards her, and Robin backed slowly into the counter.

He should never have kissed her. She should never have allowed it.

“We’re going talk about that kiss,” Cole warned her.

“Please, don’t,” she whispered. “It meant nothing! We’d both had a hectic week. We were tired…. I wasn’t myself.”

Cole’s eyes burned into hers. “Then why did you cry?”

“I…don’t know. Believe me, if I knew I’d tell you, but I don’t. Can’t we just forget it ever happened?”

His shoulders heaved once in a silent sigh as he threaded his long fingers through his hair. “That’s exactly what I’ve tried to do all week. Unfortunately it didn’t work.”