Doing a couple quick shoulder rolls to relieve some of the tension in them, she left him to his dusting and moved on to the bathroom. She could do this. Hadn’t she seen the maids at home, the janitors at work? How hard could it be? First time for everything, right?
Under the vanity, she found a pair of latex gloves, which she snapped firmly in place. She knelt in front of the toilet, grimacing at the scum, the rings that had accumulated in Jake’s absence. She dipped the brush in too quickly and a few drops of water splashed out. She fell over backward trying to avoid them and swiped at her arm where the water had landed.
Toilet water! A new accessory she could do without, thank you very much.
She set her jaw and started over, surprised to find the straightforward, uncomplicated task freed her mind. As she finished and moved on to the tub and sink, she chastised herself for dropping her Harvard degree into yesterday’s conversation. She wasn’t a name-dropper; she wasn’t a snob. But something about Jake Parker drove her there. Made her want to prove to him she wasn’t the incompetent, helpless woman he’d found along the roadside yesterday. That she didn’t need a man to rescue her. She could stand on her own Jimmy Choos.
Half an hour later, sweat rolling down her back, she deemed the bathroom fit for use. A sense of accomplishment washed over her. She could get her manicured hands dirty along with the best, couldn’t she?
No doubt about it. She’d led a pampered life. There’d always been servants, chefs, chauffeurs. Nannies. But despite that, no one had ever really worried about her. Her mother and father were both too wrapped up in their own lives. If money could be thrown at a problem to clean up the mess, that was always their first choice.
If not, delegate. Pass the problem on to someone else to handle. Both parents gold-medaled in that.
Jake rooted around in the pantry till he unearthed a large garbage bag. He’d left some things in the fridge and freezer. Condiments, TV dinners, all kinds of odds and ends. No doubt, every single thing in there had long since exceeded the expiration date. Best to ditch the whole mess and start over. Not worth taking a chance.
Bag full, he started to tie it, then remembered Lucy had put something in the trash can. Might as well dump it too.
He picked it up—a fancy gift bag? He glanced at the tag. “To Donald.” Hah! No wonder she’d dumped it. Not normally a snoop, he just had to know what Lucy had chosen for her groom’s wedding gift. Curiosity won the day, and he opened the bag.
He frowned as he pulled out the gift. A desk set? A beautiful cherry-and-gold pen and pencil in a holder. Donald Kimball was engraved in the rich wood. But no date, no message. No ’til death do us part. No love eternal. Totally impersonal.
Undoubtedly expensive as all get-out, but the kind of gift you’d present a coworker or someone retiring from your company. Not a gift you gave your soul mate on the day you joined your lives. What did that say about their relationship?
What had Donald chosen for Lucy? Did he get her anything at all? Unexpected and unwelcome jealousy hit him, followed by anger. Anger that she’d been willing to settle for so little.
Anger that he cared.
This was Lucinda Darling. Andrew’s daughter. If he let her get under his skin, he was heading for trouble. The lady was a fast lane to heartache.
The house was clean. Clean enough, anyway. Exhausted, Jake dropped onto the old sofa, snaked a hand around Lucinda’s denim-clad leg and pulled her down beside him. When she shot him an affronted look, he just grinned.
“What do you say we order in a pizza?”
She pushed her out-of-control hair off her face. “Sounds like an excellent idea.”
Jake dialed, answered a few questions about when he’d gotten back to town, placed their order and hung up. “Shall we catch the news while we wait?” he asked her, picking up the remote.
The news flashed on, and there she was. Lucinda Darling, the hot topic of the day.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Why can’t they leave it alone?”
Mabs’ intense face appeared on screen. She ran through the story just as they’d rehearsed. “So, she’s on her way to Flagstaff, Arizona. It seemed to me she needed a little peace and quiet. Some time to think about what she wants. I hope the press lets her have it.”
The picture flickered, and Maynard grinned into the camera. Lucinda groaned.
“Yep, she headed off to one of them ski places somewheres out west. Steamboat Springs, Colorado. Yeah, that’s it. That’s what she told me.”
Jake slapped his forehead. “The old fool. Guess we should have written out a cheat sheet for him.”
Lucinda almost fell onto the floor when Maynard’s raw-boned face was replaced by her mother’s professionally made-up one. “Please, Lucinda, if you’re listening, call me.” Her mother bit back a sob. “Let me know you’re okay.”