The Cinderella Deal - Jennifer Crusie [49]
Crawford had trailed along after them. “Nothing like a little woman who can cook,” he said, and when Chickie stuck her head in the door to see what they were doing, she agreed.
“You’re just going to have to give me that recipe, honey.”
“Better taste it first.” Daisy handed Chickie a stack of bowls, Lacey the silverware, and Booker the paper napkins. “We’re not formal here,” she told them. She handed Evan the Crock-Pot and shooed them all into the dining room.
She went back for a pitcher of milk and a basket of bread and came out in time to hear Booker say, “There are whole mushrooms in here.” He speared one with his fork. “Real, whole mushrooms.”
Linc and Caroline joined them, and Daisy watched with her fingers crossed as they sat crowded around the big oak table and talked about the paintings and the house and the food.
Caroline sat next to Linc. “This is really wonderful.” She looked over at Daisy, her head almost touching Linc’s shoulder. “It must be terrific to be a housewife and do all these little decorating and cooking things. My apartment is just wall-to-wall books and a microwave.”
“Thank you,” Daisy said. Drop dead, Caroline.
“Daisy’s a painter,” Linc said. “She’s not a housewife; she’s an artist.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a housewife,” Daisy said over her bowl. “It’s an art too. I just don’t have the concentration to sustain it. Linc gets food when I remember to cook it and feeds himself when I don’t.”
“I like it that way.” Linc smiled at her.
She smiled back at him. Put that in your pipe, Caroline. And then get out of my house.
Jupiter came down to see everyone as they were leaving.
“My God, what is that?” Caroline shrieked.
“That’s Jupiter.” Daisy glared at her. “My dog.”
Caroline smirked and looked over at Linc to exchange mutual glances of contempt, but he wasn’t playing.
“Jupiter’s an original.” Linc looked down at the dog with pride. “He’s not one of those soulless pure-breds.”
Jupiter lurched on his bad hip and fell over sideways.
“No, that he isn’t,” Booker agreed. “What is he anyway?”
“Part beagle,” Daisy said. “And part a few other things.”
“He looks like he’s been recycled,” Evan said. “A very practical dog.”
“A dog with personality.” Lacey Booker bent down to pet him. Jupiter rolled over on his back in ecstasy.
“What a sweet baby,” Chickie said.
“We’ve got to be going.” Crawford hugged Daisy, letting his hand slide down to her rear end.
After their good-byes, Daisy closed the door behind them with a sigh. “If we could lose Crawford and Caroline, we’d have a very nice group of people there.”
Linc loosened his tie and started up the stairs. “Well, we can’t.”
Daisy folded her arms and called after him. “She keeps undressing you with her eyes, and he keeps groping my rear.”
Linc turned back. “In that case, I’m a lot more worried about him. I’ll say something to him tomorrow.”
“No.” Daisy let her arms drop. “Forget it. I was just kidding. How was it, do you think? Was it all right, the stew and all?”
“It was great.” Linc started back up the stairs. “You really pulled it off. Good going, Daize.”
“Thanks,” she said a little sadly to his retreating back. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear from him, but somehow, what he’d said wasn’t enough. Maybe a pat on the back. Maybe a big hug. Maybe …
Forget it, she told herself. He’s cold, cold, cold.
She washed the dishes and checked to make sure she’d finished her list of things to do for the day before she went up to bed. She felt very organized and very adult and very alone, and she missed Daisy Flattery more than she could say.
Daisy’s life after the party fell into an easy rhythm, and she began to lose her Daisy Flattery regrets.
At six they’d jog, Daisy eventually building up enough stamina to keep running for the whole hour. Then they’d have breakfast, and Linc would work on his book, and Daisy would go back to bed, crawling into the rumpled sheets with a pleasure that was almost sexual. Linc left for the college every day at nine, and Daisy got up again every day at noon and worked on the house,