Lynnette Kent - Expecting the Best

Because the career was the only thing she’d ever done right.

ZACH RANG the doorbell a second time and plunged his hands into his overcoat pockets. The sky was spitting snow, with a windchill of barely ten degrees. When would somebody open the damn door?

At his thought, the blue panel swung back. Zach blinked against the light flooding into his face. “Shelley?”

“Come in, Zach. Sorry I kept you waiting.”

“No problem.” His eyes adjusted as he stepped inside. When he turned, his first look at the woman by the door hit like a solid punch beneath the ribs.

She wasn’t what—who—he’d expected. The Shelley Hightower he knew was bright and brittle, smart and savvy, but just a little too much of each.

The woman before him seemed, well, kinder and gentler. A dark blue dress skimmed her petite curves, covered by a jacket in the same blue with a white satin collar and cuffs. Her hair was longer than when he’d seen her last, framing her face with white-blond curls. Her makeup accented big dark eyes and a kissable mouth to perfection.

“Wow.” Zach pulled his hands out of his pockets. “You look great.”

Those eyes widened, but she didn’t smile. “Thanks. Let me get my coat and we’ll go.” She crossed to a closet, and Zach welcomed the opportunity to run his gaze over her one more time.

“Uh, Shelley?”

She pulled a thick fur coat off a hanger and brought it to him. “Yes?”

“I don’t mean to be critical...”

“What? What’s wrong? You don’t like the dress?”

He quieted her with a lifted finger. “No, the dress is perfect. But are you sure those are the shoes you want?”

They both stared down at the slippers on her feet—backless pink satin with frothy pink feathers across the toes.

When Zach looked up, the horror on Shelley’s face suggested she’d seen a mouse. Or a snake.

“Hey, it’s not that serious.” He knuckled her chin higher. “Just run and change. I don’t mind waiting—I’m at your beck and call tonight. Or I can carry you to the car, if these are your choice. They look comfortable, at least.”

Shelley gave a tiny laugh and shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She left him holding the coat as she tripped up the staircase. Mink, perfectly matched, tickled his palms. That was more like the Shelley he expected. In the battle between status symbol and political correctness, status would win with her, hands down.

The house indicated status, too. Zach stared up two stories at an awesome crystal chandelier, wondering how one tiny woman could live alone in all this space and not get lost. Or really lonely.

The solemn look on Shelley’s face when she’d opened the door made him wonder about the latter. As far as he knew, she’d lived by herself in the two years since she’d given up full custody of her now-eight-year-old daughter. What kind of social life did she have, if her only escort option for a big night like tonight was a cop she’d seen maybe five or six times?

And what did it say for his social life that he’d accepted the invitation?

“Better?” She came halfway down the stairs and stopped, one foot on the step behind her. Zach took another body blow as he realized the dress wasn’t quite as conservative as he’d thought—a slit up the side gave him a long look at the excellent shape of Shelley’s leg.

Clearing his throat, he focused on her feet. “Definitely an improvement. You might even stay warm for the duration—unless the snow gets deep.”

“It’s snowing?” She ran the rest of the way down and peered out the faceted glass pane beside the door. “That’s sure going to keep people home tomorrow, just as we’re getting into the spring selling season. March is a big month.”

She came back to him, and Zach straightened out the fur, holding it as she slipped her arms into the sleeves. Her perfume drifted between them, a scent of exotic woods and lemon.

He shook his head clear. “Yeah, but it gives all the home owners another weekend to get their paint touched up, their carpets cleaned. That’ll make your job easier.”

Shelley looked up at him over her mink-cloaked shoulder, a puzzled frown around her eyes. “Are you an optimist or something?”

“Why not? Pessimism takes more energy.”

“An optimistic cop has got to be a rare character.”

“One of a kind, that’s me.” He grinned at her and finally got a real smile back. Zach wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Shelley Hightower smile before, but he decided she did it very nicely. He would have to see about getting a few more before the evening ended.

By the time dessert arrived, he could congratulate himself on reaching that goal. Shelley had smiled several times, thanks to some gentle flirting on his part, combined with the gradual consumption of reasonably good champagne.

He refilled their glasses as the dinner plates were cleared. “Allyson couldn’t get down to be here tonight? I kinda hoped to see her.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t mention this to her or Dexter—she’s got a science fair at school this weekend. She’ll be down next week.”

Zach remembered the days when Shelley’s agenda would have come before anyone else’s, even her daughter’s. Since he’d just gotten her to relax, now didn’t seem the right time to point out the change, so he switched subjects. “I had no idea Denver supported this many real estate agents.” He murmured his comment into her ear, to avoid being overheard. “Are there enough houses for sale to go around?”

When she turned her head, their faces were close. “Like any sales job, you make your own business.”

Zach returned her solemn gaze and pondered the lack of laughter there. “There’s more to life than business, Shelley.”

“Not if you want to win.”

“And you want to win?” The skin of her face was smooth and pale. Touchable.

“Would you ask that if I were a man?”

He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Acquit me of sexism. I’m not convinced the world needs any more winners of either sex. How about just being happy?”

“Happy doesn’t pay the bills.”

“Sure it does. Maybe not as many as you’d like. But you can get by without giving your life over to work.”

“That’s assuming,” Shelley said, “you have other options.” Before Zach could reply, she shifted in her seat to watch the president of the Realtors’ association begin his speech.

The awards presentation went on forever. Zach had long ago perfected an interested stare and the ability to let his mind drift while applauding at all the right moments. The bottle left on the table between his glass and Shelley’s made that task even easier.

He brought his attention back when the president held up a huge plaque. “Last but certainly not least, I’d like to present the award for top seller of the year to...Ms. Shelley Hightower!”

Beside him, Shelley took a deep breath. Zach saw a flash of...sadness? regret?...cross her face. The audience applauded with enthusiasm as she walked to the podium. Zach joined in. The lady looked great under the lights—poised and polished. Smiling, she shook hands with the president and stepped forward when he motioned her to the microphone.

“Thank you,” she said. Her clear voice carried easily over the sound system. “I’m sure all of you know that this is not something I did by myself. I want to thank the staff at my office and the agents in the company for their dedication and hard work.” She paused for a glance at the award. “And special thanks go to my daughter, Allyson, for being my biggest fan and constant cheering section. She’ll be thrilled to hear about tonight.” Serenaded by more applause, she left the spotlight.