Page 10 of The Playboy and the Widow
Cliff started the engine, doing his best to hold back his amusement. This daughter of Diana’s was something else. He’d been looking forward to seeing this widow all day. He continued to be confounded by the attraction he felt for her. True, she was pretty enough, but years older than the women he normally dated. Diana had to be close to his age.
Several times during the day, he’d discovered his thoughts drifting to her, wondering what she was doing and what catastrophe she was fearlessly facing now. After he’d finished with her sink, he’d gone to the Holidays’ and drilled George, wanting to ferret out every detail about Diana he could. Shirley arrived home then, and when she learned that he planned to take Diana to dinner, her disapproval had been tangible. She’d mumbled some dire warning about the wrath of God coming down upon his head if he ever hurt Diana.
However, it was never Cliff’s intent to hurt any woman. He realized George and his other golfing friends credited him with the playboy image, but he wasn’t Hugh Hefner. He wasn’t even close. Oh, there’d been a few relationships over the years, but very few. It was true that most women found him attractive, and it was also fair to say he liked variety. The truth was his reputation far outdistanced reality.
When Cliff had drilled his friend about Diana, George hadn’t been able to say enough good things about the young widow. To escape Shirley’s threats, the two men had gone to the local pub and talked late into the night. Cliff went away satisfied that he’d learned everything George knew about his next-door neighbor.
In the car seat, Diana clasped and unclasped her purse. She was nervous. She hadn’t felt this uptight since... never, she decided. A man had stepped out of the pages ofGentlemen’s Quarterlyand into her life. This shouldn’t be happening to her. Events like that were reserved for fairy tales and gossip magazines. Not widows whose money couldn’t stretch till the end of the month.
Diana wanted to stand Shirley up against a wall and shoot her for filling her with doubts. One date! What possible damage could one dinner date do? The one and only time she was interested in finding out details about a man, and all Shirley could do was point out that Diana was headed down the road to destruction. Shirley claimed lesser women crumbled under Cliff’s charm. He broke their hearts, but he hated to see them cry. Diana, according to Shirley, was too gentle natured to be hurt by this playboy.
Consequently Diana didn’t know anything more about Cliff than she had when he’d left her house the night before.
“How do you know George?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“George and I golf together,” Cliff explained.
George was a real sports fanatic.
“Do you play?” Cliff asked.
“I’m afraid not.” No time. She was the room mother for Katie’s second grade class, did volunteer work at the elementary school the girls attended, taught Sunday school and was heavily involved in Girl Scouts. “I used to play tennis, though,” she added quickly. “Used to” being the operative expression. Every Thursday had been her morning on the court, but that was before Joan was born and... oh, good grief, that was eleven years ago. Where had all the years gone?
They arrived at the Chinese restaurant and were seated in a secluded booth. “This place isn’t high on atmosphere, but I promise you the food’s terrific,” Cliff said.
Diana studied the menu, and her stomach growled just reading over the varied list of entrées. If the food tasted half as good as it sounded, she would be satisfied. “You needn’t worry,” she said, “I’m easy to please. Anything that I don’t have to cook is fine by me.”
The waiter appeared, and they placed their order. Diana cradled a small teacup in both hands. “I know you fix leaky sinks in your spare time, but what do you normally do?”
“I’m an attorney.” His gaze settled on her mouth. “Are you a working mother?”
Diana bit back a defensive reply. A man who had never been married wouldn’t appreciate the fact thateverymother was a working mother. “Not outside the house,” she explained simply. “I keep thinking I should find a part-time job, but I’m delaying it as long as possible.”
“What have you trained for?”
“Motherhood.”
Cliff grinned.
“I suppose that sounds old-fashioned. But you have to remember that Stan and I married only a few months after I graduated from community college. The first couple of years, while Stan worked for Boeing, I attended classes at the University of Washington, but I got pregnant with Joan and didn’t earn enough credits for a degree. At one time I’d hoped to enter the nursing profession, but that was years ago.”
Their hot-and-sour soup arrived. “Why don’t you do that now?” Cliff wanted to know.
“I could,” she admitted, and shrugged, “but I feel it’s too important to spend time with the girls. They still need me. I’m all they’ve got and I’d hate to be torn between attending Joan’s baseball games and doing homework, or squeezing in an additional night class.” She paused and dipped her spoon in the thick soup. “Maybe that’s an excuse, but my children are the most important investment I have in this life. I want to be there for them.”
“What if your husband were alive?”
“Then I’d probably be in nursing school. The responsibilities of raising the girls would be shared.” She hesitated. She doubted that Cliff would understand any of this—a bachelor wouldn’t. “To be honest, I’m not toying with the idea of getting a part-time job because I want one. Money is tight and it gets tighter every year. I suppose by the time Joan’s in junior high, the option will be taken away from me, but by then both girls will be better able to deal with my being away from home so much.”
“Joan seemed eager enough to have you leave tonight.”
Diana nodded, hiding a smile. “That’s because she thinks you look like Christian Bale.”
“I’m flattered.”
Diana noted that she didn’t need to explain to him that Christian Bale was an actor. “I hope you don’t find this rude, but how old are you, Cliff?” Diana knew she was older. She had to be—if not in years, then experience.
“How old do you think?”
