were attractive, too. Long and slender. She was tall—easily five-eight, maybe five-nine.
“She’s not bad-looking, is she?” Carrie asked in a whisper.
“Shh.” Jason slid back a warning.
“Mom, this is Dr. Jason Manning, remember? Our apartment manager,” Carrie said, her arm making a sweeping gesture toward her mother.
“Hello.” She stayed where she was, her fingers still clutching the apron.
“Hi. You called about the broken faucet?” He took a couple of steps into the room, carrying his tool kit. He’d have a talk with Carrie later. If this took more than a few minutes, he might be late for the Lakers play-off game. It was the fifth game in the series, and Jason had no intention of missing it.
“The broken faucet’s in the kitchen,” Charlotte said, leading the way.
“This shouldn’t take long.” Jason set his tools on the counter and reached for the disconnected faucet. “Looks like it might be missing a screw.” He turned pointedly to Carrie, then made a show of sorting through his tool kit. “My guess is that I have an identical one in here.” He pretended to find the screw Carrie had handed him, then held it up so they could all examine it. “Ah, here’s one now.”
“Don’t be so obvious about it,” Carrie warned in a heated whisper. “I don’t want Mom to know.”
Charlotte seemed oblivious to the undercurrents passing between him and Carrie, which was probably just as well. He’d let the kid get away with it this time, but he wasn’t coming back for any repeat performances of this handyman routine.
“I should have this fixed in a couple of minutes,” he said.
“Take your time,” Carrie told him. “No need to rush.” She walked up behind Jason and whispered, “Give her a chance, will you?”
True to his word, it took Jason all of thirty seconds to make the necessary repair.
“The bathroom faucet’s been leaking, hasn’t it, Mom? Don’t you think we should have him look at that, too, while he’s here?”
Jason glanced at his watch and frowned. If the kid kept this up, he’d miss the start of the basketball game. But he decided he had little choice: pay now or pay later. He gave Carrie the lead she was hoping for. “Or it’ll need fixing tomorrow, right?”
“Probably.” There was a clear glint of warning in the fifteen-year-old’s eyes.
Charlotte turned around and glanced from one to the other. Crossing her arms, she studied her daughter, then looked at Jason as if seeing him for the first time. Really seeing him. Apparently she didn’t like what she saw.
“Is something going on here I don’t know about?” she asked.
“What makes you say that?” Carrie said with wide-eyed innocence.
Jason had to hand it to the girl; she had the look down to an art form.
“Just answer the question, Caroline Marie.”
The mother wasn’t a slacker in “the look” department, either. She had eyes that would flash freeze a pot of boiling water.
The girl held her own for an admirable length of time before caving in to the icy glare. She lifted her shoulders with an expressive sigh and said, “If you must know, I took the screw out of the faucet so we’d have to call Jason over here.”
Once again Jason glanced at his watch, hoping to extract himself from their discussion. This was between mother and daughter—not mother, daughter and innocent bystander. He hadn’t meant to let Charlotte in on her daughter’s scheme, but neither was he willing to become a full-time pawn in Carrie’s little games. No telling how many other repair projects the girl might turn up for him.
“Why would you want Dr. Manning here?” Charlotte asked with a frown.
“Because he’s a good-looking man and he seems nice and I thought it would be great if you got to know each other.”
It was time to make his move, Jason decided. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be leaving now.”
“You purposely broke the faucet so we could call him down here?” Charlotte gestured toward Jason.
Carrie sent him an irritated look as though to suggest this was all his fault. “I wanted him to see you. For being thirty-five, you aren’t half bad. Once he saw your potential, I was sure he’d ask you out on a date. I tried to talk him into it earlier, but—”
“You what?” Charlotte exploded. Color flashed into her cheeks like bright neon lights. Her eyes narrowed. “Tell me you didn’t! Please tell me you didn’t!”
Carrie snapped her mouth shut, about ten seconds too late to suit Jason.
“This is all a big joke, isn’t it?” Charlotte turned to Jason for reassurance, which was a mistake, since he was glaring at Carrie, irritated with her for saying far more than necessary.
“I had to do something,” Carrie cried, defending herself. “You need a man. I saw the look on your face when you were holding Kathy Crenshaw’s baby. You’ve never said anything, but you want more children. You never date … I don’t know what my father did to you, but you’ve shut yourself off and—and … I was just trying to help.”
Charlotte stalked to the far side of the small kitchen. “I can’t believe this. You actually asked a man to take me out?”
“I did more than ask. I offered him money!”
Charlotte whirled on Jason. “Just what kind of man are you? Agreeing to my daughter’s plans … Why … you’re detestable!”
Despite himself, Jason smiled, which was no doubt the worst thing he could have done. “So I’ve been told. Now if you’ll both excuse me, I’ll leave you to your discussion.”
“What kind of man are you?” Charlotte demanded a second time, following him to the door, blocking his exit.
“Mom …”
“Go to your room, young lady. I’ll deal with you later.” She pointed the way, as if Carrie needed directions.
Jason hadn’t imagined things would go like this, and he did feel badly about it, but that didn’t help. Charlotte Weston could think harshly of him if she wanted, but now Carrie was in trouble and Jason felt halfway responsible.
“She was just trying to do you a good turn,” he said matter-of-factly. “Think of it as an early Mother’s Day gift.”
Two
With her daughter out of the room, Charlotte scowled at Jason Manning, angrier than she could ever remember being.
“You’re …” She couldn’t think of anything bad enough to call him.
“Detestable is a good word.” He was practically laughing at her!
“Detestable,” she repeated, clenching her fists. “I’ll have you know I’m reporting you to …” The name of the government agency, any government agency, was beyond her.
“Children Protective Services,” he supplied.
“Them, too.” She jerked the apron from her waist and threw it on the floor. Surprised by her own action, Charlotte tried to steady herself. “According to the terms of our rental agreement, I’m giving you our two-weeks’ notice as of this minute. I refuse to live near a man as …”
“Heinous,” he offered, looking bored.
“Heinous as you,” she stated emphatically. Then with an indignant tilt of her chin, she said as undramatically as she could manage, “Now kindly leave my home.”
“As you wish.” He opened the door and without