A Mum For Amy. Ann EvansЧитать онлайн книгу.
sure he’d ever be completely convinced of that.
She touched his shoulder, eager to avert a budding argument. “Will, if it helps any—”
He shook his head so quickly that her lips parted in surprise. “Don’t help anymore. I’m sorry to be the bad guy, but Lisa can’t go to the beach today and neither can I and that’s that.” There was a momentary deafening silence, then Will sighed, clearly feeling contrite already. “Maybe we’ll all go this weekend, but not today.”
“I don’t want to wait until the weekend,” Lisa cried. “You’re the meanest brother ever!”
On that angry outburst, she stormed off. A few moments later, they heard a bedroom door slam shut.
Will raked a hand through his hair. “Thanks a lot. Lisa and I have been going at one another all morning about her responsibilities, and you just made it worse.” He sounded calm, but the muscles in his jaw betrayed him. They pulsed the way they always did when he was tense.
“Sorry,” Maggie said. She offered an apologetic smile, but couldn’t help feeling a little stung. “It wasn’t intentional, you know. I just felt like going to the beach, and I really didn’t think about anything else.”
Her father might have added that she didn’t think, period, but thankfully Will made no such comment. He merely looked down at his watch again.
“I have to go,” he said. He scooped his car keys out of a bowl on the foyer table. “Let’s order pizza tonight. Then the three of us can make plans for the beach. All right?”
She nodded, and he gave her a quick kiss as he closed the front door behind them. Together they walked toward their cars. Morning sunlight bounced brightly off the vehicles, but the fun had gone out of the day as far as Maggie was concerned.
“Stop sulking,” Will said as he unlocked his car door. “The weekend will be here before you know it.”
Maggie made a face at him. “I hate delayed gratification.”
“It’s good for you,” Will said. “It builds character.”
And with that, he roared out of the driveway.
THREE HOURS LATER, Maggie had already completed two of the three service calls she’d originally scheduled for today. After Will’s unwillingness to play, she’d considered going to the beach alone simply on principle, but, really, what fun was that? Better just to accept the fates that had aligned against her and make some money.
She was just heading for the last job on her list when her cell phone rang. It was Will’s house number, but it was his sister on the line.
“What are you doing?” Lisa asked.
“Working.” Maggie felt sorry for the girl, stuck inside at home on a pretty spring day like today. “How’s the math tutoring going?”
“It’s not. Right after you and Will left, my tutor called and said she had to cancel until tomorrow.”
“Uh-oh.” From experience Maggie knew that Will had two pet peeves in life—people who were chronically late, and people who canceled appointments at the last minute. “Your brother’s not going to like that.”
“He doesn’t know because I didn’t call him,” Lisa said. “But I think he’ll be happy. I cleaned my room and the kitchen and even put away the laundry. I’ve done everything that was on the stupid list he gave me, and now I deserve a reward. Can I go to the beach with you?”
“I’m not going to the beach. I told you, I’m working.”
“But we could go later, couldn’t we? After you finish.”
Maggie shifted a strand of hair out of her eyes. She’d put the top down on her convertible because she loved the feel of the breeze and that seemed to be the closest she was going to get to really enjoying the day. “Will was pretty clear, Lisa. No beach today.”
“But that was before everything worked out the way it did. It’s not my fault my math tutor didn’t come. And I’ve done what I’m supposed to do. If I stay here the rest of the day by myself, I’ll just get into trouble.”
Maggie laughed. “You know that for a fact, do you?”
“I thought you wanted to be my friend,” Lisa said, and her unhappiness came through loud and clear. “Can’t we do stuff together today? Even if it’s work. I’d be a good helper, I swear.”
“I don’t know…. Your—”
“Please. I promise to do whatever you want. Pleeeeeeease.”
Maggie thought a moment while Lisa waited. Since she’d been dating Will, she’d come to understand how important his sister was to him, and Maggie had wanted to become a friend to the girl. If she and Will had any hope of forming a long-term relationship, didn’t she need to get to know Lisa better? And wasn’t it preferable for Lisa to be with Maggie than home alone, doing stuff she shouldn’t?
“All right,” Maggie said, making a U-turn at a gas station. “I’ll pick you up in ten minutes. In the meantime, call your brother and let him know where you’ll be.”
Lisa agreed with a whoop of pleasure.
Because of traffic, it took Maggie twenty minutes to get back to the Stewart house, and she’d no sooner pulled into the driveway than Lisa came running out the door.
The girl jumped into the passenger seat, all smiles, then threw a small duffel bag in the back.
“What’s that?” Maggie asked.
“My bathing suit,” she replied with a mischievous look. “Just in case we get done with work early.”
Maggie grinned. The kid was as opportunistic as she was. “Did you call Will and tell him where’d you’d be?”
“I had to leave a message with his office. He’s still in Pompano Beach.”
“I suppose we can try him later,” Maggie said as she backed out of the driveway.
“Where are we going?” Lisa asked excitedly.
“I’m going to work your butt off. You’ll wish you’d stayed home and watched the soaps.”
“And then maybe the beach?”
“Maybe.”
Maggie caught the interstate, then took the crosstown back roads that led to Key Biscayne, one of the most desirable, exclusive parts of south Florida. Just across the bridge were at least a dozen clients of Go Fish, but they weren’t Maggie’s favorites.
In the sprawling mansions and high-tech condos along the beach there were four-and five-hundred-gallon custom-designed tanks filled with angel rays and harlequin rasboras, living coral and rainbow-colored dottie-backs.
Maggie almost felt sorry for these beauties. Their owners hadn’t purchased them for personal enjoyment. They’d been bought to impress guests and business associates. To make statements about wealth and power. Or maybe just because they were a pretty backdrop for the right furniture. Maggie much preferred dealing with a ten-gallon tank housing a handful of guppies that had all been individually named by the kid who owned them. But she couldn’t deny the reality that the wealthy provided a lot of her income.
Her last stop was for a bi-weekly cleaning of a four-hundred-and-forty-gallon crescent tank that separated a huge foyer from its adjacent living room. True to her word, Lisa helped Maggie cart equipment out of the car to the front door of the ridiculously large Mediterranean villa. They were met by the housekeeper.
“Hi, Mrs. Walker,” Maggie said as she and Lisa entered the house. “Brought a helper today.”
The woman smiled a welcome and disappeared, leaving Maggie to her own devices. Maggie didn’t mind. One thing about service calls to these huge showplaces—the owners were seldom around to get in her