She laughed. "God, you're so reasonable. I love that. You make so much sense all the time and always look like you're puzzled that it's not so obvious to everyone else."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" It sounded kind of dull to him. Not that dull was anything new when it came to him.
But she sighed. "You have no idea what a good thing it is."
He didn't understand the look she wore now, the one that stole over her narrow features when she thought no one was looking. "Tell me about your father, Amanda, your childhood. What was it like?"
"I could tell you the standard version, but I'm not up for it tonight." She pulled her plump lip into her mouth, let her teeth slid over and back away from it, streaking the tender flesh with angry red splotches. "The truth is, it was lonely. It's almost a cliche, but it's true. Boston and I have a lot in common that way. Workaholic parents, a big empty house filled with furniture you can't touch. No playmates. One very distracted housekeeper and a series of nannies who never stayed long. Just long enough for me to get used to them, then they got married, or pregnant, or found a better-paying job, or discovered they really hated being stuck with a child. It was always something different, but always the same result. I think I saw my dad once a week for a couple of hours."
"That doesn't sound like any sort of life for a kid." Danny had always known, at the end of the day, he was more important to Willie and Daniel than anything, even the farm. They had made time for him, dragged him along if they needed to get things done.
"When I did see my parents, it was because they wanted to show me off, or make sure I was improving correctly, becoming a perfect little girl who would grow into a perfect little Stepford wife. So I became exactly what my father wanted—an empty, vain woman—and yet now he seems to think I should know how to take care of myself independently. Well, I don't know how. No one ever taught me."
"I think you're doing just fine on your own."
"He doesn't respect me. He doesn't love me." Her voice was a painful whisper punctuated by a sob at the end. "I can't believe I even care. I shouldn't. I don't. But I do."
It made him angry that her own father didn't see all the wonderful things he did in Amanda. "Which only goes to show you you're not empty at all, Amanda. You have a bigger and a better heart than he ever could, and I feel privileged that you're helping me care for my daughter."
She gave him a watery smile. "You're just saying that so I won't cry like a baby and embarrass you."
"I may not be exciting, but I'm honest. I mean it." And he was starting to think that he was falling in love with her.
"You're making it really, really hard to keep saying no." A finger brushed under her eye to capture a rolling tear.
He knew what she was talking about. His request for one time, just one time to experience each other's bodies, just one time to pretend that there could be something between them that resembled a future.
After seeing Piper healthy and happy, there was nothing he wanted more than that one time. The wicker strained as he leaned toward her. "Then don't say no."
"I'm tough, but I'm not that tough." She dropped her feet to the porch boards, stood up, and called to Piper. "There's a ball in the garage. I'll go get it and you can toss it to Baby."
Danny knew exactly what Amanda meant. He wasn't sure he could handle a night with her that couldn't lead to another night. But then again, he wasn't sure he could live without ever having seen her naked.
Nor was he certain he could sexually satisfy her if he did get her naked.
Then again, shouldn't he give it the old college try?
Except he'd never gone to college.
With good reason. He was obviously an idiot.
Chapter 16
Painting a room was a lot harder than it looked.
The project that the week before she had so confidently embarked upon now seemed like a dissertation on Amanda Delmar's ignorance.
Pour, roll, paint. What could be so hard about that?
Everything, apparently. The problem with paint was that it got goddamn everywhere. The floor, the woodwork, the ceiling, her arms, and her Betty and Veronica T-shirt. Oh, yeah, and the wall when she got lucky.
But then it didn't coat evenly. The walls were so dull and dingy that the white went over it in streaky little uneven patches, and she could see the roller marks. And hello, a roller loaded with paint was really freaking heavy. Her shoulder was killing her, which meant she now had two bum shoulders, since the left one was still healing from her close brush with Bird of Prey three days earlier.
Piper had gotten bored with the whole thing about six hours earlier and had been playing in Danny's room. Then Willie had come by with lunch for them and had taken Piper into the yard to play on her swing set. Amanda realized that she probably should give up the fight, fling the roller out the window, and watch Piper like she was being paid to do. But Danny wanted her to housekeep, too, and he had agreed to her redecorating plans.
Besides, she could not fail. Painting this room was some kind of a metaphor for her life, and she was going to succeed, damn it. Even if it killed her or ruined her clothes.
Setting the roller back in the pan, she stood back and surveyed the room. Two walls down, two to go. For the first coat. Clearly after it dried, she was going to have to do it again.
Whoopee.
"This is for the happiness of a small child," she reminded herself as she scratched her nose with the back of her arm.
Her cell phone rang, and she went to the dresser and picked it up, grateful for the distraction.
"Hello?"
"This is me, who are you?"
Amanda rolled her eyes. "Stuart, this is Amanda. You called me."
"Oh, shit, I did, didn't I?" Stuart took a sip of something, the liquid slurping sound right next to her ear. "I got the kid's sketch you sent, and he's raw, but the talent is there. Get him in art school, and in about five years we'll talk."
"Cool. I'll see what I can do." Amanda actually thought Brady would fit better in art school than roaming around Cuttersville.
"But listen, that's not why I'm calling. I have a job for you. Can you be here in two days?"
Amanda stared blankly at the streaky bedroom wall. "No, I can't be there in two days. I have to stay here until Piper starts school."
There was a long silence. "You're f**king kidding me. You're going to pass up a chance to spend six weeks in Europe on a buying trip with me so you can baby-sit? Cherie, you have lost your mind."
The idea of a trip like that should have her hopping around the room with excitement. But the thought of traveling with Stuart, martini lunches, late nights… felt a little flat. And she had made a commitment. She had to keep it. That little girl was counting on her.