Not only that, but her wealthy father had expanded Trent's practice with all his contacts in the Vegas casino and auto industry. It was her rich influential father as much as the daughter that had him set his eye on Debra. Now Trent employed ten technicians to do actual orthodontic treatment, while he only had to oversee the work they did.
As becoming an orthodontist required him to specialize in dentistry an extra three years, he was able to make a great deal more right out of school. Joining an established practice in a good location, he had made almost three hundred thousand his first year out.
Managing all the bills and using a separate savings account, Trent had stashed a lot of money away while married to Marcy. This included Katie's college fund monies. Why shouldn't he use that? She didn't need it yet after all. Marcy knew he had taken it of course, but what could she do about it? All records had been destroyed.
These hidden savings, combined with a hefty loan from Debra's father had purchased and set him up in his own place of business. Now that he had his own practice, in time and according to the way he was going, it was not incomprehensible for him to make over a million a year.
Why couldn't Marcy understand the simplest of things? He was a busy and very important man. Trent thought that Marcy was a stupid selfish bitch. She didn't deserve to be married to a successful high achiever like he was.
His daughter, Katie, could possibly be of benefit to him when she got older, but why would he want to waste his valuable time with her now? Aside from claiming her as a dependent for tax purposes, what was the point?
'Everyone' loved Trent, and 'everyone' was his friend… until they really got to know him. That was why Trent instinctively never let anyone really get to know him. If they did – they wouldn't like him.
Trent asked people questions about their interests and lives only for purposes of manipulation - he wasn't actually interested. In fact when not figuring out how to exploit them, he tended to switch off completely when people talked about themselves.
What Trent didn’t understand was that his hidden sense of superiority kept him from having a real connection to another human being. Without honest communication in relationships with others, separate and alone, Trent was incapable of experiencing the true joys of life.
Everything in Trent's world was a pretense and illusion. Because others were stupid and unworthy, he had effectively and thoroughly cut himself off from everyone.
Trent Berger was utterly incapable of experiencing love and genuine intimacy.
If André Chevalier met him, he would pity him for the empty lonely soul that he was.
16. Baiting the hook
At 8am the next day, Mike arrived at Marcy Paget's house with a plan.
His golden retriever sat up and thumped his tail on the car seat as Mike pulled over and parked. "Where we going, big guy?" Mike asked him with a pat. "Hey Zig, where we going?"
Ziggy's whole body trembled with excitement, his eyes bright and eager.
Mike Thompson came around, opened the door and the large dog bounded out. Zig was six years old and weighed over seventy pounds. He was older than Mike in dog years, but still could act like a puppy.
Kids loved dogs and he doubted that Katie would be an exception. What better way to get on the good side of Marcy? Ziggy would let her know how fantastic a person Mike was.
Love me, love my dog, he mused. Only in this case it would be more like, love my dog? Then maybe you'll love me.
Hair in a ponytail, dressed casually in jeans, Marcy's eyes widened with pleasure and surprise when she opened the door and saw Mike's golden retriever sitting there happily thumping his tail.
"Oh my God! You brought your dog!" she said. Clearly an animal lover, she immediately knelt down to rub and pet Ziggy. "Who's a handsome boy, huh? Who's a good dog?"
Marcy's thick hair was shiny, her skin soft and healthy. Mike breathed in her unique female scent. Damn, she smelled good. A frisson of excitement spread through him and he instantly went hard. He wanted to fist his hands in that hair of hers, run his mouth across her skin, and sink his teeth in her nape while he did.
Whoa, down boy, he told himself. Jesus. How did she do it? How did she turn him into an uncontrolled adolescent with one look? The woman was driving him mad.
Katie and Samantha, the other slightly older little girl that lived here came to the door. With excited squeals and childish laughter, they joined in, all three making much of Ziggy. It was too much for the big dog. Ziggy stood up on all fours and began to snuffle, wriggle and bark with excitement.
"Sit, Ziggy," Mike said, making a down motion with his hand. The golden retriever instantly complied, a great big doggie grin spread across his face.
"Wow," Marcy said. "That's impressive. Is he an inside dog?"
"Sure. He'll let me know if he needs to go out."
In they went. Once they all were inside the condo, Mike made another hand signal and said, "Down, Zig." Ziggy obediently lay down and remained still, all except his irrepressible tail that thump, thump, thumped. The two girls dropped to their knees to continue to pet and make much of him.
"I think that Ziggy's going to want to move in," Mike said with a shake of the head.
"I wish," Marcy said. "I had to put our terminally ill cat down not that long ago, poor thing. Tommy used to sleep with Katie and she really misses him. I swear it broke our hearts. We'll get another cat hopefully, once we find a new place to live – if we're allowed animals.
"It's important for a child to have animals around, I think," Mike said.
"I agree. Ziggy is a beautiful dog, and really well-trained. Did you train him?"
"Yeah," Mike said. "We went to dog school together and I've kept it up. I really love that dog."
Marcy smiled up at him with a tender expression on her face. It was a sucker punch to Mike, making him stop breathing for a long moment. Why had he ever imagined that her face was severe? Because right now she was incredibly beautiful.
"It shows," she said. "I have a personal philosophy about people and their pets, particularly dogs. I've always observed that you can tell exactly what the dog owner is like by their animals. Super crazy owners have super crazy dogs – have you ever noticed that? The poor creature doesn't get a chance with a nut job raising them. Even if the person seems normal – if their dog is nuts it's a clear sign. That owner is simply more able to hide their madness. Lucky the opposite is also true. Sane sensible dogs have sane sensible owners."
Mike grinned. "That sounds very much like a compliment, Marcy. Are you hitting on me?" he teased.
"Yeah, right," she giggled.
The sweet sound of her laughter made Mike's heart lift. If he had his way she would be happy all the time. God she was gorgeous. He blinked with a sudden inner vision of having her under him in his bed. Her arms around his neck, her body naked, her breasts… Mike cleared his throat and gave his head a shake. Damn his wayward thoughts. What was she saying?
"The last thing I need is a man in my life," Marcy said. "Nice try. Okay girls, sit down and finish eating." She moved off to the kitchen and Mike managed to return to the present. "Ziggy will visit us again sometime but you have to get ready for school. Do you want some coffee, Mike?"
"Yes, please."
While Katie and the other young girl, Samantha, were enjoying their breakfast, Mike sat down near Katie and showed her the four color permanent marker set he had brought her. He took her pink cast out of her sling and laid her arm on the table.
"I broke my arm when I was about your age, too," he said. "The good thing about a broken arm is you get to have all your friends write funny stuff on your cast."
Katie stopped spooning her cereal into her mouth, while she watched as Mike drew a big house on her cast. It was long and flat and had three gables. He made the roof blue and the walls and windows red. The house itself he shaded yellow.
"Whose house is that?" Katie asked.
"It's my house," he said, and then he drew three stick figures, a
nd what looked like a big bird and an even bigger dog. "This is you, and me, and your mom, and this is Ziggy," he explained. "And this is supposed to be a turkey."
Bewildered, Katie's brows knit.
"I am drawing this because I want you guys to come to my house for Thanksgiving, and this will remind you. Your mom told me yesterday that she had nothing special planned. Well, I have all sorts of people coming to my house, with a pool and lots of kids to play with. Would you like to come?" he asked.
With a strangely solemn expression on so young a face, Katie nodded.
"Good deal." He stood up and turned around to find Marcy staring at him with her hands on her hips. "You'll both be there, right?" he said guilelessly without missing a beat. "I've got a ton of people coming over and I could use the support."
Marcy glared at him. Mike didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking. He had just trapped her into coming to his house on Thanksgiving, without asking her first. Because now her daughter Katie wanted to be there. Mike had to admit, it was a pretty underhanded trick.
He gave her an unrepentant smile and shrugged. "Sorry. I just didn’t want you to find a way to get out of it. Everyone should be with family on Thanksgiving – even if it isn’t your own family. You won't regret it, Marcy. It'll be fun."
"What do you have in your coffee?" she asked, making no attempt to hide her petulance.
"Just milk is fine. Half and half if you've got it."
Marcy got out a bright red mug, poured him a cup from the fresh pot she had made. She opened the fridge, got out half and half, and poured it into the cup. Still looking a little disgruntled, she handed the mug of coffee to him.
"Thank you," Mike said, in a cheerful voice, suppressing his triumph. He knew he had her. She and Katie were coming to Thanksgiving dinner at his house.
After making sure everyone had what they needed, all four of them, and Ziggy, got into Mike's car. He dropped Katie and Samantha off at school because Marcy's car wouldn't start. Mike told Marcy he would have a look at it when they got back, to see if he could fix it. They could talk about her position with André as they did.
Marcy's car was an old four-door Neon that languished in her driveway. It was a real shit-box, and had conked out on her the other night. Mike raised the hood and got her to turn the key in the ignition. The noise it made wasn't pretty.
"I'm fairly certain that the battery is dead. I'll just replace it."
"Really?" Marcy came out of the driver's seat to walk around to speak with him.
"Hey, that is one of the redeeming features of having a man around, we can fix things."
Marcy was wearing blue jeans like he was, with a yellow blouse and a feminine button down sweater. Her nails were shaped, yet she wore no polish. Her beautiful thick hair was coming loose from her ponytail; a few strands framed her face.
Mike's mouth went dry and his blood heated.
Jesus. What was it about her made her so damn sexy? She wasn't flirting, or teasing. She wasn't particularly dressed to draw male attention. The woman was no game player. She was a straight shooter and forthright. She knew her own mind.
Mike had thought she was incredibly attractive yesterday. After a full night of thinking about her, he was only more obsessed. Smitten, his wife Barbara would have said, because she had adored romance novels.
I am smitten with Marcy, he realized and this fact made him really happy. He curbed a compulsion to run his fingers through her hair again. Instead he put his hands into his pockets.
"Men can fix things?" Marcy snorted. "Now that's a stereotype that I personally have not found to be true."
"Oh, but I am the stereotype, believe me," he said. "I'm a very stereotypical male. I sit in front of the TV drinking beer and eating popcorn. And I'm good with my hands." He raised his eyebrows up and down suggestively.
Marcy laughed and shook her head. "Mike, seriously," she said. "You have to quit flirting with me."
"Why?"
"Because I don't date and you aren't going to get anywhere."
"Yeah, yeah, you told me that before."
His eyes met hers for a moment, and he saw her blush before looking away. The pink in her cheeks captivated him. Mike knew that she felt it too, that chemistry and longing. It was that elusive spark. They both had it. There was no point in pretending it wasn't there. It was the start of something good.
He caught her hand, incredibly conscious of how small and feminine it was in contrast to his own. It felt good to touch her. To capture those petite fingers and hold them safe within his own hand. When she tried to pull away, he gave her a slight squeeze, but didn't let go.
"I like you, Marcy," he said. "And I can see that you like me, too. This is no big deal, so don't get worked up about nothing. We're not dating. I just want to be friends and hang out, okay? Now," he said, releasing her hand. "Let's go and buy a battery for your car."
They went off to 'Batteries Plus' and Mike bought her a battery. There was a little fight over that, but Mike won.
"I know you're an independent woman and you're not incapable," he said. "I know that you would have figured it out and replaced your own battery. I also know that you can afford it. But I am thinking of my own happiness, so it's just too bad. I'm a very selfish person. I want the pleasure of buying this for you."
Marcy laughed loudly at that, just as Mike had hoped she would.
17. Sunset Park
Marcy didn't know what she was feeling.
For the first time since she had gotten married at twenty-two years old, she was seriously attracted to a man. It surprised her, because she thought Trent had put her off men for life.
Mike Thompson was tall, broad shouldered, and built like an athlete – not to mention that handsome movie star face. The man was good-looking, but it wasn't his appearance that had appealed to her. Her ex had been handsome, too. Marcy figured that she was old enough and wise enough now to see past a person's looks.
On the way home from the battery shop, Mike detoured to Sunset Park to give Ziggy a run. "Where we going, boy? Where we going?" Mike asked, and Ziggy could hardly keep still he was so thrilled. The big golden retriever, Marcy figured, knew exactly where his master was taking him.
Sunset Park was huge, with a thirteen acre duck pond, fishing, basketball courts and sandy volleyball courts, dog parks, bike and jogging tracks, and a number of playgrounds. There was even a place to play Frisbee golf. The sand dunes section had about three miles worth of desert trails weaving all through it.
Mike parked and put Ziggy on a lead as he bounded out, chuffing, snuffing and wagging his tail with excitement. Marcy drew in the scent of fresh-cut grass and warm dry desert air. The sky was blue and cloudless.
They began a leisurely walk on one of the trails to Warm Springs Dog Park. Mike had an amusing habit of walking backward from time to time, while excitedly explaining things with his hands. This was such a natural behavior for him that the man didn't even seem to be aware that he was doing it.
Marcy found it incredibly entertaining.
Mike was nothing like Trent or any other guy now that she thought of it. Her attraction to him was unnerving. Did the man have any idea how damn cute he was? Her eyes focused on his lips. They looked soft and enticing. Just what would it be like to be kissed by those lips?
What am I thinking? He's just a man.
She took her gaze from his sensuous mouth, and down to the dog, a safer place to look altogether. Why was Mike Thompson unsettling her?
It was the middle of a work day, so the place wasn't packed. Nevertheless, they were passed by the occasional runner, walker or cyclist with most people nodding a friendly hello. Ziggy barked as a bunny scampered past them, and they both laughed. The rabbits were usually only out in the early morning or late evening.
"Do you ever come to this park?" Mike asked.
"I haven’t been here in years. It's all changed so much."
"We sometimes have a family and friend get together here," Mike
said. "They've spent a lot of time and money on the park recently. As part of the renovations, there are now three dog parks. They rotate based on the maintenance schedule, and keep the large dogs and small dogs separated."
They made it to the dog park and Mike unleashed Ziggy. With a hand signal and the word "off" the big dog was free. With one last look at his master, as if to say, "Will you be okay if I go play?" Ziggy sped away to check out the other dogs. Marcy and Mike began walking around the park, leisurely following him.
"So, I've been meaning to explain to you," Mike said, "my wife died two years ago from breast cancer."
"Oh, I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, that's why I freaked when you told me your mom died of breast cancer. I don’t want that to happen to you. Were you nursing your mom around then?"
"Yes. She died a year ago."
They both sighed and were quiet for a moment, each caught in memories of the past.
"I was glad to be there for Barbara," Mike said, "but it sure was tough to go through it."
Marcy looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "That's exactly how I feel about my mom." His dark brown eyes softened with sympathy as he looked back at her
They discussed details for a long while, what food could or couldn't be kept down during chemo, or management techniques that they both had figured out. Marcy, who had not previously talked about nursing her mother at home, found she wanted to talk about it to Mike. Their experiences had been similar and equally devastating to them both.
"No one can prepare you to hear the worst news in your life," Marcy told him. "When the doctor said, "Your mom has cancer," I just zoned out. I couldn’t hear anything else."
"Oh yeah," Mike agreed. "I know that feeling all too well. It's as if for that one black moment your entire world falls away."
"Exactly," she agreed.
Marcy was really glad to share her experience with someone who had lived through it. It was another way they were bonding. While Marcy still didn't think that bonding was a good idea, she enjoyed having a friend.
She felt way too comfortable with Mike, which was unusual. He somehow slipped past all her barriers. Or she let her defenses down with him around. Either way, it would all end in tears if she wasn't careful.