Belonging (4 page)

As usual, Georgia's clothes were a mess. The
sleeves of her blouse were rumpled from repeatedly being thrust
above her elbows. There was a run in her nylons, and the toes of
her shoes were scuffed and worn.

Angie loved her dearly. Despite her haphazard
appearance, she was sharp as a tack. Managing the office and
keeping track of all the mayoral concerns was no small task, but
Georgia pulled it off without a hitch. In Angie's eyes she was
invaluable. More, she was a friend.

When the last bite of sandwich had been
eaten, the last drop of tea drained from the cup, Georgia's
ominous expression softened. "That's better," she said briskly. In
a rare moment of relaxation, Georgia sat down in the comfortable
leather chair. "At least I don't have to worry about you eating
tonight. Not with the spread they'll have at the Sheraton."

Angie was used to Georgia clucking over her
like a mother hen. She'd even gotten rather good at tuning in what
was important and tuning out what wasn't. "Now, Georgia," she
began, "you know I always make sure the girls and I eat a good
dinner—" Suddenly she stopped short as Georgia's words finally
penetrated. "The Sheraton?" she echoed, then frowned. "What's going
on at the Sheraton?"

Georgia's eyes contained a measure of
surprise. Slip-ups by Angie were few and far between. "Don't tell
me you forgot. There's a big bash tonight at the Sheraton. In
honor of our new police chief."

This last piece of information was added with
a sidelong glance at Angie. Though the public saw the image of a
beautiful but successful and hardworking individual, Georgia knew
the woman beneath the elegant exterior, the woman of integrity and
very real emotions. Once, those feelings had been clearly visible.
Now, though they were still there and thriving, they were much more
insulated, far less exposed. Life had taught her well, Georgia
sometimes reflected, a little too well.

The two women had been through a lot
together. She'd seen Angie grow in strength, self-confidence and
esteem. She had witnessed the private torment she had undergone
when she lost her husband, a torment that Georgia somehow suspected
wasn't solely due to grief.

But even Georgia didn't know everything about
Angie.

She had started to work for Angie almost four
years ago when Angie had joined the investment firm Georgia was
with. Though she was in her late twenties, it was Angie's first
real bout at tackling the career she'd spent years preparing for.
Georgia had thought it was a shame that a woman with Angie's
abilities had been sitting at home with a husband and two children
since shortly after college. She and Angie had taken to each other
like ivy to an oak tree, and Georgia sometimes reflected that
perhaps it was because she could see a part of herself in
Angie.

No two women could have been more different
in physical appearance, but they were, in fact, alike in a number
of other ways. Neither one found it very easy to display her inner
feelings, though Georgia admitted her own were a little more
volatile and vocal. And like Angie, she, too, had cherished hopes
and dreams and aspirations. Unlike Angie, Georgia hadn't had the
education to build those dreams, and as the years passed, they
faded. These days they surfaced only seldom.

Neither one had the support of a husband.
Georgia had never even had a husband. As for Angie... well, Georgia
sometimes thought she'd have been better off without him.

Oh, Angie had never said so in so many words,
but Georgia had known. She'd recognized the signs, but even if she
hadn't, her intuition would have told her. There had been days when
Angie's smile had been too bright, her laughter a little too
forced. As her career had taken off and thrived, the situation at
home had disintegrated.

It was, Georgia had long ago decided, the
reason Angie was so determined to keep her professional life
separate from her home life. Mayor Angela Hall was a far cry from
mother Angie Hall. Even Georgia wondered how Angie managed to
balance both career and home.

Secrets of the heart? Yes, Angie had a few.
But Georgia, like Angie, had learned her own lesson from life and
knew when not to pry.

After all this time she also knew what she
could get away with and what she couldn't. She'd seen the furious
glint in her boss's eyes after her meeting with the new police
chief the other day. She'd also heard a few drawers being rattled
and slammed. She'd held her peace until today, though.

"Don't see how you could forget about
tonight," Georgia commented. Getting up, she pulled a cloth from
Angie's bottom drawer and began to idly swipe at the desktop. "Not
when it's in honor of our illustrious new police chief," she
continued. A rare smile lit her face. "Now there's a man not many
women could forget."

Angie darted her a sharp look. It wasn't so
much a matter of forgetting as simply not wanting to remember.
Instead of replying to Georgia's statement she asked, "Since when
have you started taking inventory of every man who walks in and out
of this office?"

"I'd do it a little more if they all looked
like him," Georgia told her brashly. "To tell you the truth, if I
were twenty years younger . . ."

Angie snorted. Matt Richardson might be
passably good-looking...well, perhaps more than passable. There
were probably some women who would find his roughly hewn features
quite compelling. But Georgia? Angie had never known her assistant
to look twice at any man since she'd known her.

"Who are you trying to kid!" she exclaimed.
"Why, you're no more interested in having a man in your life than I
am."

Georgia's grin faded, and her hand stilled
for a second. "Maybe you should be. When you get to be my age,
things start looking pretty lonely," she said slowly. She stood in
front of Angie, her arms akimbo on her hips. "Maybe you should be,"
she repeated.

Angie said the first thing that popped into
her mind. "If I did ever want a man in my life again, it wouldn't
be Matthew Richardson!"

This time it was Georgia's turn to snort.
"Who, then? That smart-aleck Todd Austin who's always sniffing
around your heels?" The way she rolled her eyes heavenward
expressed her feelings more clearly than words.

Angie sighed. Todd Austin was the Westridge
city manager. She'd met him shortly before Evan's death when she
had served as a member of the district school board, and it had
been at Todd's urging that she had decided to run for city council
a year later. Since that time Todd had accompanied her to various
official functions, and she'd always appreciated that Todd
respected her for her intellect. Of late, however, he'd made it
clear he would like to deepen their relationship, a desire she
didn't share.

Her body cramped from the long hours in her
chair, she got up and stretched, then walked to the window nearby.
She stood for a moment, looking down at the deep pink rhododendrons
and leafy foliage that edged the sidewalk.

"Todd and I are friends," she said after a
brief pause. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said of Georgia
and Todd. From the first they had taken to each other like oil and
water. "No more, no less," she told her assistant firmly. "Just
friends. And as for our new police chief, I'm much more interested
in the way he does his job than the way he looks."

Georgia said nothing. Glancing over her
shoulder, Angie saw that Georgia's thin lips were tightly
compressed as she began collecting the cup and plate and loading
them onto the small tray.

Angie turned around. "Are you coming
tonight?" she asked softly.

"No."

She sighed. She hadn't expected Georgia to
say yes. As the older woman always put it, she preferred to leave
the "woman of the hour" and social duties totally in Angie's
hands. Angie didn't really mind since Georgia was so dependable in
other ways. But the last thing she wanted was a rift between
herself and her assistant, no matter how small. Especially one
sparked by the new chief of police.

"You're going to let me face the hungry
masses all alone?" she chided gently.

This earned a reluctant smile. Georgia turned
to face her, tray in hand. "You, Mayor Hall, can handle just about
anything."

Angie laughed, relieved to note the familiar
sparkle was back in Georgia's eyes. "With one hand tied behind my
back?"

"Not quite," Georgia retorted airily. "Even
you need a helping hand once in a while." Turning, she began to
leave.

Angie couldn't resist calling after her,
"What would I do without you, Georgia?"

She heard a crackling laugh from the outer
office. "Starve," came the muffled response a second later. Angie
smiled and shook her head. She could tell Georgia was once again
buried in her work. Her assistant could talk all she wanted. She
had no more room in her life for a man than Angie did.

CHAPTER THREE

Georgia wasn't the only woman who had seen
Angie through a drastic period of change in her life. Janice
Crawford had known Angie for nearly eight years. When they had
first become neighbors, Angie was in her sixth month of carrying
Kim, and Janice had just delivered a daughter. Janice was the one
Angie had always come to when she wanted to borrow a cup of sugar,
or when she simply wanted to talk.

But Angie hadn't done much talking the last
year of her marriage. And as Janice sometimes told her husband,
Bill, there was much that Angie held inside—too much. The Angie the
Crawfords had first met hadn't been terribly outgoing, but her
warmth and enthusiasm showed in the sparkle of her eyes. The woman
they knew now was the same and yet somehow different. This Angie
was much more protective of herself and her children.

It was almost three o'clock when Janice
walked into her kitchen to find Angie's slim figure just stepping
through the back door.

"Hi," she greeted her. "Take off early?"

Angie nodded and stopped for a second.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

Janice laughed as she saw her sag against the
doorframe. "Tea?" she asked knowingly.

"Sounds great." Angie opened her eyes and
smiled at Janice. She dropped her purse on the bench in the
breakfast nook. "Just let me say hi to the girls and I'll be right
back."

"They're in the yard," Janice called after
her, running water into the teakettle. "Playing in the pool."

Angie smiled as she stepped into the enclosed
backyard. The small plastic pool had been upended and leaned
against a tree, and the children had turned their attention to
spraying each other with the hose instead.

Four-year-old Casey was the first to spy her.
"Mommy!" she squealed and ran over. She threw her arms around her
mother's legs. When Angie bent down to hug her, she planted a wet
kiss on her cheek before running off once more. Kim did the same,
as well as Janice's daughter, Nancy.

Sixteen-month-old Eric had apparently decided
he'd had enough of the water and pandemonium. Eric had the same
round face and dark hair as his mother. At the sight of a familiar,
sympathetic adult face, his hands lifted in a pleading gesture, and
he toddled toward her.

"What! Are they drowning you?" Angie laughed.
Lifting him onto her hip, she turned to go back into the house.

"Oh, no!" Janice's eyes grew wide, and she
rushed over to retrieve the baby. "He'll get you all wet!"

Chuckling, she gave him back into his
mother's care, unmindful of the wet spots on the cap-sleeved dress
she wore. "Wash-and-wear has been around for some time now. It will
dry, you know."

After Janice had put Eric in dry clothes, she
settled the baby in his high chair and sat down across from Angie.
"All ready for the game tomorrow?" Janice laid a graham cracker in
front of Eric, who wasted no time stuffing it into his mouth.

Angie nodded, a smile touching her lips. Kim
and Nancy had both joined a girls' summer softball league. Baseball
was one of the few things that quiet Kim grew excited over, and it
warmed Angie's heart to see her happy and eager again. Both she and
Janice were coaches for the team, and like the girls they
supervised, they brought a good deal of enthusiasm, if not
know-how, to the team.

But she shook her head at the thought of what
would come before tomorrow. "What I'm not ready for," she mused
aloud, "is tonight."

Janice spooned a generous amount of sugar
into her tea. "What's going on tonight?"

"There's a dinner for the new police chief,"
Angie told her. "I'd rather sit through a dozen chamber of commerce
luncheons, but I'm afraid if I didn't go, Blair Andrews would have
a field day with it." At Janice's inquiring look, she explained how
she'd been put on the spot, both at the press conference earlier in
the week and later that same day when Matthew Richardson
discovered he hadn't been her primary choice.

When she had finished, Janice rested her chin
on her hands, her brown eyes sparkling merrily. "Just think— a cop
from the big city here in Westridge! It's like having Kojak in town
or something!"

"Kojak!" Against her will, Angie felt her
lips twitch as she thought of Matt Richardson's dark good looks.
Her mother had adored the series. As for possessing the suave,
smooth manner of the TV detective... well, that remained to be
seen. But Kojak had been a little on the tough side, too, she
recalled. Maybe it wasn't such an inappropriate comparison after
all.

She turned her attention back to Janice.
"Anyway," the other woman was saying, "I can't believe you'd
rather stay home than go to a party—"

"Party?" Angie recalled the brief encounter
she'd had with Matthew Richardson earlier in the week. If it wasn't
for the fact that dozens of other people would be present, she
might even consider the dinner something of an ordeal. "I can
guarantee this isn't going to be 'Some Enchanted Evening,'" she
told Janice with a slight smile. "All anyone does at these
functions is talk shop."