Tender Deception Read Online Free PDF

black hole as it sensed her movement. Smiling, she lay back on an elbow and grimacingly compared herself to the crab. She always disappeared at the slightest hint of danger. Maybe it was time for a change. Maybe she should become a little wilder, get out more.
    “Hey, tiger.” She softly called her entranced son. “We have to go now.” At his crestfallen look she added, “We’ll have burgers and french fries, okay?”
    Vickie was never quite sure just how much her two-year-old understood, but “french fries” was as familiar as “beach” to him. He smiled again and she swept him up in her arms to head back to the car. “We have to hurry a bit, sweet pea,” she murmured. “I have to have you all fed and set for bed before Mrs. Gilmore arrives. We don’t want to lose her!”
    She smiled at the thought. Harriet Gilmore, the plump matron who cared for Mark five nights a week, adored him. She probably wouldn’t leave Vickie’s employ even if she were beat over the head with a poker. A natural with children, the kindly lady loved Mark, and although Vickie knew she was prejudiced, she could understand why. Her son was blessed with a cheery disposition that seldom failed. He had never been a crier or whiner, and although he did have a temper tantrum now and then like any normal child, his basic nature was beguiling and endearing.
    A charmer with a temper, Vickie thought a touch dryly. Like his father.
    But, like his father, he usually displayed his temper only to himself. When a toy would frustrate him, he would flounce his sturdy little body into his room, where he would often stay despite her cajoling until he could emerge bubbling again.
    At first Vickie had often attempted to deal with his moods. But as time and experience had taught her to control her own mixed feelings, she had accepted that he was like his father, and that that father had certain commendable traits that she should appreciate in her son.
    Even at two Mark needed to deal with his problems in his own way. Vickie was wise enough now to simply be there when he decided that he needed her.
    They drove into a sterile, fast-food restaurant, where Vickie bought hamburgers, french fries, and shakes. She didn’t usually like to eat at burger places, and the strange uneasiness she had felt during the day seemed to stay with her, making her nervously lazy. She didn’t believe in premonitions. She felt as if she should know something, realize something, but she couldn’t put a finger on what it was she should know.
    Well, one thing she did know, she told herself, was that she was going to get out more. She chuckled suddenly at that thought. She had had dinner a few times with last year’s summer guest artist, and that had been a disaster. Monte always brought in a “star”; in doing so he could guarantee filling the house in the customary offseason. Last year’s “star” had been the popular hero of a motorcycle cop series—handsome and rugged on the screen, devoid of personality off. He had difficulty lifting a two-by-four in the shop and his egotistical immaturity drove Vickie to boredom.
    Granted, she could remember being devastatingly immature just a few short years ago. But she had been naive. No, stupid was more like it! Okay, stupid, naive, overly sheltered—a pathetic twenty-two. And now an ancient twenty-five.
    It wasn’t really fair for her to judge anyone, her own mistakes had been so vast. One day she would have to explain to her son why he didn’t have a father. Stop! she wailed to herself. Mental torture didn’t solve anything. This was a hell of a time to worry about what she had long reconciled herself to anyway. Besides, the moral standards of the world had relaxed quite a bit. Mark would fare well, even if he never knew his father. But Mark could never know. No, Mr. Langley would have to stay dead. Better a dead loving parent than a living legend who would never recognize one’s existence.
    She was still worrying about the past