LITMIR.BIZ

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childhood, had never felt denied anything—except a father, or even a father figure. If her mother had dated, Sara Beth never knew about it.

      “How come you didn’t call me to shop with you?” Grace asked, stepping back to look at her daughter more closely. “I would’ve been happy to go along.”

      “I didn’t plan it. I found myself in front of the Gap yesterday. Everything was on sale. I still spent way too much.”

      Grace cocked her head. “Who is he?”

      It wouldn’t do any good to hold back. Her mother could spot a lie every time. “It’s not what you think.”

      “Anytime a woman who hates to shop goes shopping, and buys more than she thinks she needs, there’s a man involved.”

      “You buy new clothes all the time. I’ve never seen evidence of a man.”

      “I like to shop.” She slipped into her coat and stuffed her wallet into a pocket. “Did you buy new lingerie?”

      Sara Beth almost choked. “No, Mother. I did not.”

      “You’re blushing. Hmm. That’s interesting. Tell me about him.”

      “We’re just friends.”

      Grace rolled her eyes, hooked her arm in Sara Beth’s and headed toward the door. “Which is the most pathetic lie in the lexicon of dating.”

      “It’s the truth in this case. I did go to a family dinner with him last weekend, but he called it a rescue date. His parents get on him about still being single and I went as a decoy.” And ended up being aroused by his touch. Not exactly within the definition of “friend.”

      Outside, Grace slid her key into the lock. “So, he used you? How charming.”

      “I said yes because it suited my purposes, Mom, not his. I’ve gotten in a bad habit of staying home, especially now that Lisa practically lives at the institute. I decided to shake up my routine.” She smiled. “So, where are we going?”

      “Don’t change the subject, young lady.”

      “There’s no subject to change. Nothing’s going on.” They turned right at the end of the walkway. Sara Beth guessed they were going to Santini’s, a small family-style restaurant two blocks away.

      “Are you going out with him again?”

      Sara Beth managed not to sigh. “Not on a date. I’m going to help him shop for furniture for his place on Saturday.”

      “Why?”

      “Because he asked.” And because I want to.

      “Why aren’t you telling me who he is, Sara Beth? If it’s no big deal—”

      “It’s Dr. Bonner, okay? Ted Bonner.”

      Grace’s brows arched. “The new research doctor?”

      “Yes. I’m on a special assignment to help him and Dr. Demetrios, at Lisa’s request.”

      “Somehow I doubt that includes tending to their personal needs.”

      “Look, Mom. It’s a change of pace, something new to do.”

      “And you bought new clothes.”

      Sara Beth threw up her hands. “Because you’d been after me for months to do so. Now that I have, you’re making a federal case out of it.”

      “Not about the clothes, sweetheart, and you know it.”

      “I remember all your lessons, Mom. All of them. Don’t date doctors and especially don’t fall in love with them. I got it. I’ve heeded it. Is that a new hairstyle?” she asked lightly.

      Her mother laughed. “All right. I’ll lay off. For now.”

      “Forev—”

      “It’s a little shorter,” Grace said, fluffing her hair. “And just a tad blonder.”

      While her mother relayed the latest gossip from her hairstylist, Sara Beth debated whether to bring up the subject of her father … donor. She really didn’t want to resort to sneaking a look at her mother’s file, breaking rules, risking the chance of getting caught, but she’d waited long enough. And the opportunity to learn about her father might never come her way again.

      But just then they arrived at Santini’s, and the moment passed, at least for now. It wasn’t a subject she could bring up in a public venue, especially if her mother got as angry as she had the other times Sara Beth had asked.

      So they settled into noncontroversial topics for the rest of the evening, then on the walk home, Grace said casually, “I won’t be able to have dinner next Tuesday.”

      “How come?”

      “I’m going to Cancún for a week. I leave on Saturday.”

      Is she blushing? Sara Beth wondered, eyeing her. “Who’re you going with?”

      “No one. I just wanted a break from winter.”

      “You’re going alone?” She and her mother had traveled together a lot through the years, but mostly driving trips to the shore.

      “Would you like to come?”

      “I can’t. Not right now. But why didn’t you ask earlier?”

      “I decided this morning. I found an incredible deal for an all-inclusive resort. I’ve never done anything like this, and I’m excited about it.”

      Something wasn’t ringing true, Sara Beth decided. On the surface, maybe her mother was being honest, but there was more to it.

      “E-mail me your itinerary,” Sara Beth said, giving her mother a hug. Maybe after the trip, she would open up. “And have fun. Remember your sunscreen. I do envy you a week of sunshine.”

      “And margaritas.”

      “That, too.”

      During the bus ride home, Sara Beth tried to examine her mother’s announcement. She wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment person. Like Sara Beth, her mother analyzed, planned, then finally executed, usually to unsurprising results. Taking off for Cancún on only a few days’ notice was shocking enough, but to go alone?

      Sara Beth’s cell phone rang as she stepped off the bus at her stop.

      “Hi, it’s Ted. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

      She knew his voice already, the deep, even tone that shot a thrill through her. The voice she hadn’t dared to hope she would hear. “No. Actually you’re keeping me company.”

      “In what way?”

      “I just got off the bus and I’m walking home. What’s up?”

      “You know that stack of catalogs and magazines you gave me today?”

      “Of course.” She’d asked him to thumb through them and turn down the pages of what appealed to him, then she could figure out where they needed to shop.

      “I’m not seeing anything I like.”

      “Nothing?” She’d given him everything from Pottery Barn and Restoration Hardware catalogs to Architectural Digest magazines.

      “Does that mean it’s hopeless?” he asked.

      “I don’t know what it means. Maybe I’ll know more when I see the art you want to display.” She was curious about his loft, too, was looking forward to seeing where he lived. “Or maybe what it means is you should take Tricia up on her offer to help. Or hire a real decorator.”

      He didn’t respond immediately. “Let’s see what we can do first. Where are you?”

      “Not far from home. Why?”

      “Can you see your

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