Page 41 of Call it Reckless

She nodded her head with a slight tilt and focused on the couple behind us. We were dismissed.

“Phew. I felt like one of the troops presenting for inspection back there.” Reid arched an eyebrow at me. “I thought you graduated from her school.”

I cast a sideways grin at him. “No. If you recall, I said Iattended. I’m afraid you’re escorting the one and only failed student of Miss Pettigrew’s School of Comportment. My grandmother insisted I go, but after a few classes, Miss Pettigrew called my grandmother and suggested, politely of course, that I might not be the best suited for the classes.”

“What did you do?”

I shrugged. “It wasn’t that I didn’t know manners like please and thank you. It was more that there were so many other interesting things to learn. I think Miss Eliza reached her breaking point when I sat on a chair that creaked and wobbled. Instead of sitting and making conversation, I stood, turned the chair upside down, and whipped a screwdriver out of my small purse. By the time I tightened the screw, my white gloves were covered in dirt and a bit of grease, but my chair was quiet. The boy I was talking to was impressed, but Eliza Pettigrew was not.”

Reid chuckled. “I have to admit, I’d have been impressed, too.”

I’m not sure what influence Reid had used to make sure our seats were together, but we found our names at one of the tables along the perimeter of the dance floor.

“Why do you make Lexi go to cotillion classes?”

His eyes grew a faraway look before he answered. “Her mother was the most beautiful, gracious, and well-mannered woman I’d ever met. After she died, I didn’t know how to encourage that in Lex. She was becoming more and more of a tomboy, taking an interest only in what I enjoyed. But I felt Abby would want her to have a balance, to like the things that were important to her. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Your Abby sounds quite amazing.”

“She was.”

It was a situation not unlike what my father had faced. Both were left alone to try to find positive influences on their daughter’s life.

But I also heard what Reid didn’t say. Because, unlike my father who moved on from his former wife, Reid had his wife ripped away, and it was obvious to me that he still longed for her. Abigail was the kind of woman he wanted in Lexi’s life, not an outspoken tomboy-type like me.

A warning bell sounded in my head. Reid and I might both feel an attraction for each other, but it was painfully obvious that I was the complete opposite of what Reid was used to. It wouldn’t do to fall for this man or to be anything other than friends.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to respond because the boys and girls were being introduced. I smiled and applauded at all the right times, truly enjoying the little beauty that was Reid’s daughter—his and Abigail’s.

I kept a smile on my face the rest of the evening, keeping up a light conversation with Lexi and some of the other guests. I smiled as Reid danced with his daughter. I even danced with Reid, but I made sure not to do anything stupid like rest my head on his shoulder, even though the way I fit in his arms begged for me to nestle closer. And after a couple of dances, ones in which I would have loved to lean into his strength, I offered an excuse of having to get up early and returned to our suite, more tired from resisting what I wanted than from the activities of the day.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Reid

At the office, I swallowed the last of my coffee, my nose wrinkling as the scorched flavor burned its way to my stomach, where it would probably sear a hole in my gut at some point. Why we couldn’t make coffee in this office that didn’t taste like shit was beyond me.

I was pouring other cup of coffee when three of my peers hurried past the break room toward the back of the building.

Concerned that I’d missed an important meeting or crisis, I stepped out of the break room to ask what was going on. A shrill voice stopped me. I almost stepped on Sammy, who also bolted down the hall.

“Yoo-hoo. Anyone here?”

I froze. I knew that voice.Everyoneknew that voice. And most had the same reaction when they saw her—they went the other direction, even those willing to put their lives on the line fellow law enforcement officers.

Beverly Seymour.

It had been bad enough to be the one to respond to her supposed emergency. Now it looked like I was going to get roped into whatever else she had on her mind once again, thanks to my cowardly coworkers.

I reminded myself she was a nice enough person. She was quick with a meal if someone was sick, sent birthday and Christmas cards to every one of the business owners in the area, and devoted countless hours to organizing the many public events that were held throughout the year.

Struggling to keep up behind her was Matilda Espey, also known around here as “Crazy Tillie.” Tillie was dressed in her usual odd blend of clothes. Today, it was a pair of blue dungarees with a white T-shirt and black and white sneakers, as well as a silky, silver-fringed cape draped over her shoulders. Diamonds dangled from her ears, and her traditional designer sunglasses were perched on top of her hair that was pulled back in a fancy twist. It was like she started to dress to work in the garden, then switched halfway through to get ready for a garden party.

On a good day, either one of them would be plenty to handle, but seeing them walk in together spelled bad news.

I plastered on my best smile. “Good morning, Mrs. Seymour, Ms. Espey. What can I do for you?”

Beverly plopped plump arms on the counter between us. A bead of sweat rolled down her neck and disappeared into her floral print dress. Strands of hair poked out in all directions from her usually tidy bun. Her face was shinier than usual, and she was breathing hard.

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