Melinda Curtis - The Best-Kept Secret

“It’s not a bribe.” Hudson smiled. “It’s a perk.”

They passed Chin-Chin’s and Rosie suppressed sounds of annoyance.

“I want the cartoon with the mermaid. The one you like.” Casey swung his feet, trying to reach the seat in front of him. “Mommy likes it because the mermaid falls in love. We don’t have a daddy.”

Rosie put a hand on one of Casey’s thin legs. “Settle down. You have to be on your best behavior in the store. No running, use your quiet voice and stay with me.”

Graham pulled into a small parking space in front of the video store. The rain was still coming down. And down. And down. Today wasn’t Rosie’s day for breaks.

“You can wait here,” Rosie said to Hudson, trying to make it sound more like a command than an option.

“And miss out on mermaids? Not a chance.” Hudson’s grin was unexpectedly mischievous.

That couldn’t be. Hudson was the somber, straight-laced, unlikable McCloud. And Rosie wanted him to stay that way.

“CASEY MENTIONED you’re having pizza for dinner,” Hud said as they pulled up in front of Rosie’s apartment. “I like pizza.”

“Are you trying to come over for dinner? ’Cause my mom says you need to wait to be asked.” Clutching his movies, Casey’s eyes were uh-oh wide at Hud’s transgression. “Besides, those are work clothes. We don’t eat in work clothes.”

Strike one.

“How about if dinner is my treat? There. I asked you to dinner, not the other way around.” He turned, his face inches from Rosie’s and let his gaze drift to her lips. They were incredible, kissable lips. Surely, she knew that.

Without looking at him, Rosie ran her tongue across her bottom lip and shook her head.

Strike two.

Pointing at his mother with his thumb, Casey explained in a whisper, “That usually means no.”

Strike three.

Hud wasn’t much of a baseball fan, but he needed a second chance at bat. As soon as the car stopped, he leapt out and opened his umbrella, then bent over to help Rosie out, taking her petite hand in his. She lifted her head to look at him as they stood huddled together in the shelter of the umbrella, the rain a curtain around them. And there it was—the spark.

“We can’t leave things like this,” Hud blurted. He meant the endorsement of the party, of course.

There they stood, staring at each other as if they were lovers and this was the last time they’d see each other. Her riotous curls had become even wilder during the day and framed her face in a way that made her dark chocolate eyes seem huge. If he hadn’t been holding her hand between them, he might have reached up and brushed a curl off her cheek. All in the name of keeping her off balance, of course.

With a shriek of excitement, Casey hopped out and ran across the sidewalk into the apartment building foyer. He held the door open by leaning at a forty-five degree angle. “Mommy, come on.”

Rosie blinked and let go of Hud’s hand.

“He’s a great kid,” Hud said. He’d always heard moms were suckers for a compliment about their children.

“Nice try, but the answer is still no.” She started for the door, leaving him no choice but to follow with the umbrella.

Hud took over doorman duties from Casey. Rain bounced off the ground angrily. Barefoot, Rosie stood in the foyer clutching her bag containing his file and those shoes of hers she protected like the crown jewels. Casey bounded up the stairs while their gazes locked once more.

“We’ll meet again,” Hud promised.

“I think not.” Rosie turned and headed toward the stairs.

Turn around. If she looked once more, he had a chance. At what, he wasn’t sure.

Turn around.

Rosie hesitated on the fifth step, but she didn’t look back. And then she continued to climb. Hud let the door swing shut and retreated to the car.

“Where to?” Graham asked.

“Home.” To change. It was pizza night and, according to Hud’s source, nobody ate pizza with work clothes on.

LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER, Rosie pounded across her apartment’s hardwood floor in blue jeans and a T-shirt, mumbling, “That better not be Hudson McCloud.” She yanked open the door.

An umbrella with ducklings on it clattered to the parquet floor. Looking like a gypsy with her dark hair beneath a scarf, Selena held up hands splattered with neon blue paint, dropping a leash as she did so. “We come in peace.”

Something big, furry and four-legged bumped Rosie out of its way.

“Wet dog! Wet dog!” Selena ran inside the apartment after him, clumping across the floor in purple plastic rain-boots adorned with leaping frogs. “I’m sorry. I should have held on to the leash.”

Casey was giggling even though Axel had him pinned against the couch and was trying to eat what was left of his cookie. Rosie ran to get a towel. When she returned, Selena was still trying to control the overly friendly beast.

“Here.” Rosie tossed a towel over the dog’s back just as he started to shake the water out of his fur.

Chaos erupted and Rosie ran to get more towels amidst Selena’s apologies.

“Now that Drew is too old for anything that isn’t played with a ball, I brought over the finger-paint set that used to be his. It’s great for rainy days,” Selena explained. Rosie envied the way Selena handled everything with Drew confidently, as if he were her second, not her first and only, child. Selena coaxed Axel into laying down and began rubbing his belly. “I didn’t mean to unleash Axel on you, but he had to go out and I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

“No harm done.” Holding a towel, Rosie scanned the living room for more water to wipe up.

“Really? You looked like you were going to kill me when you opened the door.”

“She thought you were the mayor,” Casey said, tossing a towel on the floor.

“Oh, wow. Today was the day you met the McClouds. How did that go?” Selena dropped her voice. “Was Hudson as handsome in person as he is on camera?”

Rosie chose to overlook this last question. “I turned them down.”

“Then who were you expecting?” As soon as Selena stopped rubbing Axel’s stomach, the near pony-sized dog rolled to his feet, ready for action.

“The mayor,” Casey repeated as if Selena was missing something obvious.

“Hudson gave us a ride home and told Casey—repeatedly—that I was going to help him get elected mayor.”

“And my mom doesn’t lose.” Casey spoke with pride, making Rosie smile and hug her little champion.

“You know, Rosie,” Selena began, rising to her feet. “A lot of the candidates you take on have a strong sense of ethics and truly want to help people, but just once, for me, could you back someone single and gorgeous, like Hudson McCloud?”

Rosie laughed despite the drama of the day. “How can you expect me to offer you tea after a remark like that?”

“Just because we’re single parents doesn’t mean we don’t date.” Selena paused to smile slyly. “Oh, I forgot. You took an oath of celibacy when you had Casey.”

“What’s sell-basey?” Casey asked with a confused expression.

Selena bent down to Casey’s level. “It’s another word for loneliness—”

“Stop, stop, stop. Don’t you have a dog to walk?” Rosie pointed to the door.

“I’ll go, but remember one thing.” Selena held up a finger. “Because you didn’t back Hunky McCloud, you missed out on the perfect opportunity to date him and for him to introduce your friends to all his single, rich friends.” Selena batted her eyes.

“I don’t want to date him or his friends. He’s not my type or yours, either.” Hudson was off-limits in more ways than one. She hadn’t told her friends who Casey’s father was, so she didn’t expect Selena to understand. “Hudson didn’t pass the criteria for a candidate. What makes you think I’d date a guy like that?”

“The way he looks, I’d let that criteria slide.”

“I’ll see you Thursday at Margo’s.” Thursday night gatherings at Margo’s Bistro had become a ritual for a handful of friends who shared the challenges of single parenthood. Well, at least until recently, when three of the friends—Margo, Nora and Derrick—had found someone special to share love and parenting with. Rosie opened the door for Selena, knowing she hadn’t planned to stop long anyway. “Thank you for the paints.”

“And the advice. Don’t forget to thank me for the advice.” Selena grinned as she dragged Axel out the door and down the back stairs to the alley where she’d parked her car.

“TIME TO PLACE our order, Case.” Rosie dug her wallet out of her purse. Pizza night meant descending the stairs to Chin-Chin’s to place their dinner order.

“All right.” Casey rolled off the couch where they’d been watching a movie together and where he’d contracted a severe case of bed-head.

“Go brush your hair.” Rosie pointed to the bathroom. She’d pulled hers back into a simple ponytail.

“Mrs. Chin doesn’t care how I look,” Casey pouted, dragging his feet down the hallway.

“But I do,” Rosie called after him. When Casey wasn’t presentable, Rosie felt as if every parent judged her and found her lacking.

They placed their order, but not before Mrs. Chin, grandmother of twelve, chastised Rosie for not making Casey eat something more nutritious—“Maybe squid? Or shrimp on his pizza?”—which caused Casey’s stress level to ratchet to Defcon 4, more commonly known as wailing-and-close-to-tears. Drained, they climbed up the creaky wooden stairs with their salads to their apartment with the promise of a phone call when their pizza was ready.

As they began eating their ordinary lettuce with ranch dressing, Rosie started to regret missing her meal at Plouf, which made her think of Hudson once more. The man had hardly left her thoughts all afternoon. Why couldn’t Hudson see he had no future in politics if he didn’t open up and explain his past? And why had Hudson awakened her hibernating libido?

“Mommy, why can’t I have a little brother? Everyone else has one.” Casey blinked in faux innocence as if it was the first time he’d asked.

The question was loaded with pitfalls, so Rosie set aside thoughts of Hudson and considered her words carefully. “First off, not everyone has a little brother. I don’t.”

“You don’t count.” Casey was quite good at pouting. If she wasn’t his mother, she might have fallen for that look and felt sorry for him.

“Secondly, you need a daddy around to get a little brother. I’m afraid it’s just you and me.” She’d told Casey his daddy had gone to heaven. Thankfully, he hadn’t ask many questions about Samuel. Rosie dreaded the day when she had to explain she hadn’t known Casey’s father well enough to find out if she loved him or not. Marriage had certainly never been discussed. She wasn’t going to be Casey’s best role model for abstinence.

“Why do you have to be so old?” Casey slumped and fingered a chess piece he’d brought to the table.

Considering Rosie was only twenty-nine, she gave her son the look of disapproval she’d learned upon seeing it so often from her own mom. It was the same look she’d given Hudson earlier.

“You’re not a kid, Mommy.” Casey squirmed, not willing to give up just yet. “I don’t have anyone to play with at home, not even a dog.”

“Oh, so it’s a choice between a dog or a little brother?”

“I’m bored all the time.” Casey caught her gaze as it drifted over to the window sill where the paintings they’d made this afternoon dried, and added petulantly, “And you’re always working.”