Dreams of Perfection (Dreams Come True) Page 8

  He touched her arm. “Thanks, Darcy, this is great, really.” The temptation to kiss the chocolate from her lips tested his resolve. He held her gaze a moment before the intercom buzzed, breaking the spell.

  What was that? Darcy wondered. She thought for a moment Josh had wanted to kiss her. And she’d wanted him to.

  Pfft.

  Josh reached over and pressed the button, “Yeah?”

  “Hey, man, it’s Chris and Mark.”

  “Come on up.”

  Josh walked over to open his apartment door a crack before rejoining Darcy in the kitchen.

  “Help me carry some things out,” she instructed.

  He grabbed the veggie tray and followed her to the living room, where she cleared away magazines and other clutter from the coffee table.

  By the time the guys got to the door, a substantial spread greeted them.

  “Brought some beer.” Chris proudly held up a six-pack of what must have been on sale. “Whoa! Did you invite the Mayor or something?” he asked, taking in the smorgasbord.

  “No. I just thought it’d be nice to have some good food for a change,” Josh said with a hint of defensiveness.

  “Are those strawberries . . . and chocolate?” Mark reached over for a strawberry just as Darcy smacked his hand.

  “Wait for the other guests.”

  “Hey! That hurt.”

  “It wasn’t meant to tickle.” She adjusted the strawberries on the platter.

  “Heard from Paige?” Mark asked as he rubbed his offended hand.

  “Who’s Paige?” Darcy asked.

  “A lovely little Southern Belle who picked Josh up the other night.”

  “Oh really?” Darcy raised a questioning brow in Josh’s direction, surprised that he was seeing someone and hadn’t told her. She pointedly ignored the hollow ache in her stomach at the thought of Josh and a girl. Hunger pangs.

  “Yeah, but she’s gone back to Alabama.”

  Mark began an off-key rendition of “Sweet Home Alabama.”

  The intercom buzzed again and Josh announced that Martin and Cindy were on the way up, effectively ending the Paige discussion.

  “Laura’s coming over later,” Darcy warned.

  “Since when does she like baseball?” Josh turned a jaundiced eye on Darcy.

  “She doesn’t, but she just broke it off with Ewan, and she’s a little down, so I didn’t want her to be alone.”

  “That’s a new one. A shark who feels remorse for killing the meal it just ate.”

  Darcy punched Josh’s arm. “Don’t be mean.”

  Cindy and Martin came in and after the introductions were made, the party began in earnest with the first pitch from the Red Sox and everyone settled in to nosh and cheer on the “Bronx Bombers.”

  The Yanks were down by three in the bottom of the second, but no one seemed to mind as plates were filled again and again.

  Chris, his plate piled high with goodies, said, “Okay Josh, I know you didn’t pull this together, so I’m guessing we have Darcy to thank for this gastronomical feast.” He held up one of Darcy’s gourmet pigs in a blanket smothered with spicy mustard sauce.

  Insulted, Josh shot back, “Hey, I did buy most of the food.”

  Mark reached for another strawberry, liberally dunking it in the chocolate, before popping it into his mouth. “I could get used to this. Thanks, Darcy.”

  “Don’t expect this spread for the next poker game,” Josh informed them as the intercom buzzed. “That’ll be the great white huntress.” He pressed the button. “Come on up.”

  One ball and two strikes later, Josh looked up from the game as Laura sauntered in. “Is it me, or is it getting colder in here?”

  “Shark.”

  “Man-eater.”

  Darcy rolled her eyes at what had become the standard form of greeting between Josh and Laura. Even though Laura chaired the marketing committee for Josh’s fundraising gala, they otherwise only tolerated one another’s presence for her sake. She wondered how they managed to get anything done for the gala.

  “Why won’t sharks attack lawyers?” Laura directed the question at Josh.

  “Professional courtesy,” Josh replied blandly, never taking his eyes off the screen.

  Laura muttered a curse and dropped down onto the sofa next to Darcy.

  The rest of the gang was used to it, but poor Cindy appeared confused. Darcy would explain it to her later. They were also used to Laura’s tendency to overdress for occasions.

  This time she wore a pair of snug black pedal pushers, a turquoise halter top, and a bright pink pair of spike-heel platforms, accessorized with some bold jewelry . . . along with her hard-to-miss black hand brace. Her blond hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. She looked fabulous.

  “Flip-off any cab drivers lately?” Josh asked, eyeing her brace and chuckling.

  Laura gestured to Josh with the aforementioned injured digit before leveling an accusatory glare on Darcy. “You just had to tell him, didn’t you?”

  Darcy lifted a shoulder in response. “Oh come on. You have to admit now that it was pretty funny.”

  “No, I really don’t,” Laura muttered.

  Darcy laughed and, draping an arm over her best friend’s shoulder, asked, “Aren’t you glad you came?”

  Chapter 15

  At the seventh-inning stretch, with the Yankees up by two, Josh muted the TV and everyone stood to sing “Take Me Out To The Ball Game” while Laura looked on as if she’d just entered The Twilight Zone. “You people really need to get a life.”

  In the end, the Yankees lost by one, but everyone’s spirits were high as they took their leave.

  “Man,” Mark said as he rubbed his flat stomach. “That should hold me for at least another couple hours. Do this again for tomorrow’s game?” he asked Josh, hopeful.

  “Can’t. Got to go into the office and work on the McMillan case.”

  Chris draped an arm around Darcy’s shoulders. “Any time you need another best friend, I’m available.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Darcy replied as she politely removed Chris’ hand from her shoulder.

  Martin took Josh aside. “Cindy was impressed. She thinks you’re some sort of gourmand. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” He slapped Josh on the back before grabbing Cindy’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  Cindy smiled and waved at everyone. “See you at the shower.” Cindy had invited Darcy and Laura to her bridal shower next month, and the wedding the month after that.

  Laura brought up the rear. “Well, that’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back.”

  “Yeah, that’s too bad. Your clients probably say the same thing.”

  Laura stuck her tongue out at Josh.

  “No thanks. Don’t know where that tongue’s been.”

  “You leaving?” Laura asked Darcy, giving Josh the evil eye.

  “No, I’ll help clean up. I’ll call you later.” She kissed Laura’s cheek before closing the door quietly behind her.

  Josh and Darcy worked companionably, putting away the leftovers—what little there was—washing the dishes, and wiping down his microscopic counters.

  He’d just decided to ask her if she’d like to hit the batting cage with him, when her phone signaled an incoming text.

  Snatching it up, she said, “It’s from Blake. He said the surgery went well and the guy is stable.” She texted something back, a soft smile triggering the dimple in her cheek.

  Josh’s chest tightened. Would she ever look at him like that?

  Momentarily her phone chimed again and her face split into a big grin as she read the message. “He wants me to meet him at Annisa. My God, I must look a fright. Gotta go, Josh. I had fun. We should do this
for away games more often. My place next time.” She grabbed her purse. “I’ll pick up my platter later.” She bussed his cheek. “See ya.”

  “Yeah. See ya,” Josh muttered to the now-closed door.

  Darcy stepped out of the cab in the West Village where Blake said to meet him. She’d dashed home, and with no time to redo her hair, she’d pulled it back in a messy-chic twist, swiped on some makeup, grabbed a slinky little black dress out of her closet, and pulled on some strappy sandals. A spritz of perfume, and she was out the door in record time.

  After paying the driver, she looked around for Blake, but Dr. Perfect was nowhere in sight. She glanced at her watch and frowned. Maybe she’d gotten the time wrong. Just as she’d made up her mind to check inside the restaurant, a sultry voice stopped her.

  “Your date should be shot for keeping you waiting.” Blake stood, hands in his pants pockets, a smoldering heat in his eyes.

  “Perhaps, but he’s a brilliant surgeon and I wouldn’t want to rob the world of his life-saving skills.” She lifted a shoulder. “That would just be selfish.” She gave him the once-over, and liked what she saw. Navy slacks, white dress shirt, no tie. A man who was comfortable in his skin and his clothes.

  “Then, by all means, let him live, if only to see you in that dress.” Blake approached her, circled her like a shark circling its meal, and gave a soft whistle. “That’s some dress.”

  He grazed his fingertips down her bare back, raising goosebumps on her flesh.

  “Oh, you know,” she tittered nervously, “just a little something I threw on.” Literally.

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. Sorry I missed the party.”

  Party? What party? Oh yeah. Yankees. Baseball. “It’s okay. You were busy saving lives. How is he?”

  “He’s got a long road ahead of him.”

  “Better that than a dead end.”

  “No argument there. Shall we eat or would you like to take a walk first?”

  Thinking of all the food she’d indulged in this afternoon, she requested the walk first.

  Blake placed her hand in the crook of his arm, and headed in the direction of Hudson River Park. The tree-lined streets of the West Village, with their quaint brownstones and loft apartments, almost made you forget you were in New York. Residents strolled the sidewalks, some walking dogs, others with kids in tow. It was one of Darcy’s favorite spots, aside from her own Park Slope, of course.

  “Should we take up where we left off, Darcy Butler, college girl?”

  Darcy giggled. “How about we talk about Blake Garrett, college boy? I bet you were cute in your Harvard tie.” Whoops! She knew the minute she said it, she’d slipped.

  He pulled back. “How’d you know I went to Harvard?”

  “You seemed like a Harvard man, I guess.”

  “Good guess.”

  “You bet.” Breathing a sigh of relief for having covered her flub, she continued. “Did you play sports?” Of course he did. Crew and lacrosse, as any self-respecting Crimson would.

  “Crewed and played lacrosse.”

  “What else did you do for fun?”

  “The usual college activities. Sports, women, and beer.” He shot a glance her way.

  “What about baseball?”

  “What about it?”

  “Did you go to any games while you were in Boston?” A terrible thought suddenly occurred to her. “You’re not a Red Sox fan, are you?” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

  He chuckled. “Yes, I went to some games, and no, I’m not a Sox fan.”

  Of course he wasn’t. She’d never write a hero who was a Red Sox fan. Sacrilege!

  “You like baseball, right?”

  “More than life itself.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin.

  “Would you like to go with me to the Yankees game next week?” she asked, hopeful.

  “Sure, if you’d like.”

  “Great. You remember Josh—you met him at the opera?”

  “Yes,” Blake said, a sardonic smile teasing the corners of his mouth. “He doesn’t care for me.”

  “That’s not true,” Darcy protested. “You just need to get to know him. Anyway, I’ll get Josh’s ticket from him.”

  “Don’t take the man’s ticket. That only gives him even more reason to dislike me. I have a friend with a box.”

  Darcy wasn’t sure about sitting in a box rather than the seats, but how bad could it be? She’d be with Blake watching her beloved Yankees smoke the Mets.

  “Do you mind that I hang out with Josh, you know, go to the Yankees games and things?”

  “Mind? Why should I mind? You were friends long before I came along. Of course I don’t mind.”

  Darcy melted. He’s so understanding. He’s definitely perfect. She loved a man so sure of his place in the world that he didn’t need to be jealous.

  They rambled along a few more minutes talking about Blake’s residency at Johns Hopkins and then his time in San Diego, before he turned Darcy toward him, and said, “Now. Enough about me.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips, drawing a sigh from her.

  She slid her hands up his back to his hair, deepening the kiss. Still not Perfect, she thought, but far from disappointing.

  He gently pulled back, looking around at the families and other couples on the street. “We’d better go eat before we make a spectacle of ourselves.”

  Chapter 16

  Monday afternoon, Josh sat at the kitchen table in Kelly’s cozy Harlem townhouse, a cup of coffee in his hand, and a file folder and legal pad at his elbow. Kelly nervously chewed her lower lip, clearly afraid he was there to tell her saving her home was a lost cause.

  He reached across the table and tentatively covered her hand with his. “Kelly, I can’t make any promises, but I think we can work this out with the bank if you can be patient a little longer.”

  The cords of tension in her neck released and her eyes filled with tears. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  The door slammed and Kelly’s son, Daniel, lumbered into the kitchen, backpack slung over his shoulder. He wore baggy jeans and a T-shirt, a ball chain visible at his neck from what Josh assumed were his father’s dog tags. He stopped short when he saw Josh holding his mother’s hand. He glanced up at his mother’s face then glared at Josh.

  “How was school?” Kelly gingerly pulled her hand out of Josh’s grasp.

  “Great.” His flat tone belied the superlative.

  “Daniel, why don’t you go shoot some baskets while Mr. Ryan and I finish up, then I’ll make you a snack?”

  “The rim’s coming down, remember.” There was no hiding the irritation in his voice.

  “Oh, hey, I can check it out before I leave,” Josh offered. “Maybe I can fix it.”

  Josh thought he saw a flash of surprise in Daniel’s eyes before the resentment flared again. “Don’t bother. They’re just going to kick us out anyway.” He charged from the room and up the stairs, leaving a tense silence in the room.

  “Sorry about that. He’s been so angry since Dan died.” She walked to the doorway and looked up the stairs. “He’s getting counseling, but it doesn’t seem to be helping.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Maybe what he needs more than anything right now is to know his home is safe. Just a few more weeks and we should be able to make that a reality.” Josh gathered his things and slipped them into a leather messenger bag.

  “Thanks, Mr. Ryan. I’ll never be able to repay you for everything you’re doing.”

  “You can start by calling me Josh.”

  “Right, Josh.” She gave him a warm smile.

  “Now, if you have a toolbox and a ladder, I’d be happy to take a look at that rim.”

/>   On the subway ride back to the office, Josh couldn’t get his mind off Daniel. In some ways, he could relate to Daniel’s resentment. While his father hadn’t been killed in service to his country, he had nonetheless lost his father when he was Daniel’s age. His father had died of a massive heart attack at the age of forty-two.

  Not that his father had been much of a father while he was alive. Josh’s memories consisted mainly of frequent arguments between his parents. Arguments that a young Josh had tried hard to mediate. When his parents weren’t fighting, they were hardly the loving couple. His father wasn’t abusive, just unapproachable, indifferent. When his father died, Josh felt only relief. You couldn’t really miss what you never had.

  Janet Ryan had worked hard, but without his father’s support, his mother’s bank-teller salary often fell short, even with the small life insurance policy his father left them. Josh mowed lawns on weekends, and as soon as he was old enough, got a job bagging groceries at the local supermarket. But his mother had always insisted his grades not suffer, and if they had to give up meat a couple of times a week, he’d quit his job before she’d let his GPA slip.

  One thing she wouldn’t let him quit was baseball. It was sports, especially baseball, that kept Josh out of trouble, gave him confidence, taught him team work, fair play, discipline, and the benefit of hard work. The fact that his coaches served as role models only sweetened the deal.

  A natural hitter, they’d said, with an arm like Hall-of-Famer Ozzie Smith, his mother thought it might be his path to college. A baseball scholarship would be the vehicle for a better life, a successful life.

  But much to her and Josh’s surprise, he’d landed an academic scholarship, first to NYU and then to Columbia Law. The day he’d graduated from law school at the top of his class, his mother said nothing could ever make her happier or more proud. That meant more to him than all the accolades he’d earned in law school.

  When the train reached his stop, he exited the car and climbed the steps to the busy street above. He had to find a way to reach Daniel, and sports might be just the ticket. Maybe he could even enlist Daniel’s help with the youth baseball team he coached. Nothing made you forget your own problems like helping others.