His Sugar Baby(42)

“Okay.” Cathy nodded.

Pam scowled. She gave a little shake to Cathy’s arm. “You will call, right?”

Cathy laughed at her ferocious expression. Affection for her sister warmed her. She nodded. “Yes, I promise! I will call you. Just take care of yourself.”

Pam still looked pale from the ordeal. She would need more rest once she got home, but she assured Cathy that she would be fine. “In fact, John will probably baby me. I’ll enjoy that,” she said, flashing a smile.

“Good, you deserve it.” Cathy waved good-bye as her sister walked toward the security gate. She turned away. Her thoughts were already focusing on her daughter, on catching up at work, and on Michael. For the first time in a long time, her heart felt lighter and there was a spring in her step.





Murphy’s Law was in full effect, she thought in frustration. Everything that could go wrong had. First, a phone call from her brother-in-law to let her know that her sister had arrived safely home made her late getting away from the apartment. The traffic was bad due to a pile-up on the freeway, and the constant idling, the stopping and starting, had put too much stress on her car. It finally stalled. She had to call for a tow truck to get her to the nearest garage.

She was still at the garage when Winter’s cell rang. She wasn’t surprised. Cathy answered it without preamble. “Michael.”

“Where are you?” There was impatience in his clipped query. They had not gotten together since her sister’s visit due to schedule conflicts. Now, at the first opportunity that their schedules would allow, she was late.

“I’m sorry. I was going to call when I knew something. I’m at a garage. My car broke down on the freeway.” She hesitated. “I don’t know how long I will be.”

“Does this happen often with your car?”

Michael’s curt tone was peremptory. Cathy wasn’t expecting that, and it annoyed her. The series of delays was certainly not her fault. She tightened her fingers on the phone. She tried not to let her irritation come through her voice. “I have an older model. It’s been acting up. It sometimes needs maintenance, all right?”

“So why didn’t you get it in for servicing before this?”

“I didn’t have the money,” she snapped.

Heavy silence greeted her statement. “I will come pick you up in about an hour.” His voice was still curt. “What garage are you at?”

Cathy was in no mood to put up with an attitude from Michael. The whole morning had already been a bust. It would probably be better to just put off their meeting for a better time when they were both calmer. “It’s really not necessary. I’ll get a cab. Michael, look, it’s been a bad day for me already. Why don’t we do this another—”

He interrupted her. “I planned on seeing you today before I go out of town for the next two weeks. I’m not going to wait until my return, Winter. I want this to happen now.”

“All right,” she said stiffly. She gave him the address of the garage. He hung up as soon as he had it. She sat quite still, struggling with burning anger. Michael had been unexpectedly abrupt, cold and demanding. It was demeaning, she thought furiously. She should have said something. He had no right to speak to her like that. Like he was talking to his sugar baby? Her inner voice was derisive. You’ve forgotten, girl. You’re his hired whore. Cathy felt like she had taken a blow to the solar plexus.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you all right? You’re white as a sheet!”

Cathy gathered herself back together and looked up quickly. The mechanic stared down at her in concern. She forced a smile. “Am I? I guess I didn’t get enough breakfast.”

The man’s broad weathered face eased into a knowing, gap-toothed grin. “I bet you went to stand up too quick and got dizzy and had to sit right back down, huh? My wife is the same way.” He raised the battered clipboard in his big hand. “I got bad news for you, Ms. Somerset.” The mechanic went on to tell her what was wrong with her car.

Cathy’s heart sank. He handed a long estimate to her on thin yellow paper. She stared at it, the figures swimming before her eyes. It was a catastrophe. “Do—do you accept payments?” she asked faintly.

The mechanic’s friendly expression shifted into a frown. “It’s not what I like to do. I accept credit cards.”


“I understand.” Cathy straightened her shoulders with difficulty, at the same time drawing the ragged edges of her pride around her. “I will see what I can work out and get back to you. Is it all right if I just leave the car with you for now?”

He shrugged, flashing a crooked grin. “Well, it’s not like it’s going anywhere. I’ll have to charge you something for storage, though.”

Cathy didn’t appreciate his stab at gallows humor. She eyed him with a measure of hostility. The mechanic was oblivious to her reaction. “Do you need to call someone to pick you up, or do you want me to call a cab for you?”

Cathy shook her head. “A friend is picking me up.” Methodically she folded the estimate and put it into her purse. She still felt like she had been hit broadside by a truck. She didn’t know what she was going to do. Her finances couldn’t absorb large emergency expenses like major car repair. Each month her salary and everything in Winter’s account was put against medical bills and her basic living expenses.