Blame It on Cupid. Jennifer Greene

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СКАЧАТЬ the little girl’s age had hugely, hopelessly touched her. The second factor was the poor kid had lost her dad on Christmas Eve—how impossibly devastating was that? On top of which, there were no relatives who could step in. Charlene was far beyond the usual adoptable age, and in an overcrowded fostercare system, the child was absolutely alone, had no one in her corner.

      The way Merry saw it, one of the giant advantages to living footloose and fancy free was exactly an issue like this—she had the flexibility to take off and choose a different life path whenever she wanted to. No, she didn’t know the child. No, she didn’t have a clue if there were any special problems, but when push came down to shove—which it had—what did anything like that matter? How could she possible leave a lonely, griefstricken eleven-year-old girl when she had the power to do something about it?

      And that was her plan. First, to just open her arms and love the kid. And then, to give her a Christmas—in her own home—to make up for the one she’d just lost. After that, well, she’d figure out what the child needed and wanted. There was no way to cross those bridges until they came to them. Together.

      Right now, though, driving demanded all her concentration. Lee Oxford—Charlie’s estate lawyer—had an Arlington address. The problem was that maps and Merry didn’t get along. And that she was already tired. And that Arlington and D.C. traffic was like a prehistoric reality play about the survival of the fittest.

      Nobody wanted to play nice. Minneapolis rush hour was no cupcake, but either the drivers in this neck of the woods all had political agendas or were sociopath-wannabes.

      She also had to pop into a gas station—not for gas, but to charge into the restroom for a fast cleanup. A little makeup, a brush and putting on some real shoes was all she had time for. Unfortunately, after that she had trouble finding the attorney’s address. Not for the first time, she cursed all her relatives for failing to pass on a direction gene, and after all that fiddle-faddling around, it was fifteen minutes to five before she managed to park and chase up the stairs to Lee Oxford’s office.

      The receptionist took one look at her and sniffed, the little snot. Maybe receptionists on this side of the Mississippi could afford Ellen Tracy suits, but at least where Merry came from, people were familiar with some friendly manners. “It’s late, but I’ll see if he can fit you in,” was all the receptionist offered.

      “I left a message on his cell that I was coming in early, but I don’t know if he got it. Please tell him it’s about Charlene Ross. I know we didn’t plan a meeting until tomorrow, I’m hoping he can still see me today.”

      “Have a seat.”

      Yeah, right, like she could relax at this point. She slugged her hands in her pockets and paced from window to window. She’d had mental images in her mind for days of the little girl, so young, alone, no mom, and then losing her daddy right before Christmas. It was easy to picture her. Granted, it had been years since she’d seen Charlie, but his daughter was undoubtedly built short and scrappy, because he’d been. Likely she’d be blond. Hopefully she wouldn’t have her daddy’s hook nose, but with any luck at all she’d have those wonderfully warm crinkle-in-the-corner blue eyes.

      Naturally, without knowing her, Merry had had a hard time picking out Christmas presents—but not totally. Eleven was eleven. Whether Merry wanted to or not, she recalled every detail about that age. It was that era when you had to have a best friend. When you first started to notice boys, even if you were still a little worried they had cooties. It was that age when you first got hard-core interested in makeup and fashion styles, started hearing the appeal of the “in” music, talked on the phone nonstop.

      And, yeah, it was an age when losing a parent was the worst thing in the universe—especially if the other parent had already deserted the ship.

      Merry’s heart had been ripped up since she first heard the story. Still was. Still would be, she suspected, until she’d gotten her arms around the little girl. Whatever happened was going to be challenging, she knew. How could anything about this be easy, for her or for Charlene? But Merry didn’t really doubt that she’d get along with the child. Wherever this all ended up, love and caring and attention had to help the little sweetheart, and Merry was more than willing to open her heart to the child.

      Finally the receptionist gave her the high sign, and Merry sailed into Oxford’s office with an eager smile and her hand outstretched. The terrier-sized, darkhaired man on the other side of the polished onyx desk stood up to return her handshake, but abruptly her optimistic spirits suffered a teensy drop.

      Unlike everybody else, she usually liked lawyers. Some of her closest friends were lawyers. But most of them were of that earnest, honest breed fresh from law school, hot to make the world a better place, flagwaving hopeless liberals like…well, like herself. Lee Oxford looked about fifty, had a mega-watt diamond in his tie, elegantly styled brown hair—even for a city guy—and wore alligator shoes. He took one look at her and brightened as if she were the freshest meat on the hoof he’d seen in a long, long time.

      It’s not as if she’d never had that response from a man before, but she’d really wanted to like this guy. Mentally she reminded herself that Charlie Ross would never have picked a jerk for a lawyer, so to just chill on that first reaction and give him a longer chance.

      Still, Oxford held her hand more like a caress instead of a handshake, before slowly sinking back in his chair. He started out with, “I wondered what you’d look like. This is a highly unusual situation.”

      “Believe me, it is for me, too.” She sank into the barrel chair across from his sleek black desk. “This is the fastest I could get here. I didn’t expect to be able to connect with Charlene still tonight, but I was hoping to get the key to the house. I’d like to open it up, make sure everything’s turned on, get some food in, just get to know the place a little. Try and make some things ready for her.”

      “A good idea. But there’s a lot we have to go over first.”

      Merry leaned forward. There was a ton she wanted to go over, too. And just because little guys tended to worry her—they always seemed to have a mean streak, need to prove their power and all that—she tried to quit pegging him in the negative. So the guy had looked her over a little close. What man didn’t?

      “As I hope I explained on the phone…if the child’s mother happened to show up, or another blood relative who is capable of taking Charlene, they could make a legal claim. But right now, to the best of our knowledge, there’s no one.”

      Merry nodded. “For her sake, I wish she had some family, too.”

      “Regardless, you need to fully understand that you have no legal obligation to take her.”

      “I do understand that. You explained on the phone.”

      “The document you signed years ago isn’t binding.”

      Again she nodded. She’d gone over that night numerous times in her mind. It was hard to explain to an outsider what a rare and special friendship she’d formed with Charlie. It just wasn’t like any other friend relationship.

      He’d been newly divorced when she met him, living in Minnesota, not Virginia. There’d never been anything romantic between them. They’d met at some ghastly party that they’d both been conned into attending by friends, started talking and never stopped. He was just a totally great guy who’d needed a friend, and she’d valued being one for him. Over days and weeks of talking together, she shared more about her childhood than she’d ever told anyone. Likewise, he’d revealed his circumstances. The court had given him full СКАЧАТЬ