style="font-size:15px;"> Rory grinned. “Mine, too, but I’m glad you like it.”
“Do I have to sign him out?” Cash asked Gareth.
“You do. Come on out and we’ll take care of the formalities. Danbury, have a good holiday,” he told Rory.
Cash was shocked to hear the boy’s last name. He’d assumed the child’s last name was Moore, like Tippy’s.
Rory saw the surprise and laughed. “Tippy’s real last name is Danbury, too. Moore was our grandmother’s last name. Tippy used it when she started modeling.”
That was curious. Cash wondered why, but he wasn’t going to start asking probing questions right now. He signed Rory out, took time to shake hands with Rory’s fascinated friends, and escorted the boy out to his car.
Rory stopped dead when he saw Cash push a button and the trunk of a flashy red Jaguar popped open.
“That’s your car?” Rory exclaimed.
“That’s my car,” Cash told him, smiling. He tossed the boy’s bag into the boot and closed it. “Climb aboard, youngster, and let’s be off.”
“Yes, sir!” Rory replied, waving frantically to the two spellbound boys at the front door of the office. Their noses were actually flattened against the glass when Cash roared out of the parking lot and onto the street.
CHAPTER TWO
CASH STOPPED BY HIS HOTEL to check in before he drove Rory to Tippy’s apartment in Manhattan, in the lower East Village.
Tippy was waiting at her door after she buzzed Cash and Rory up to her flat on the second floor. She looked like a stranger, in jeans and a pullover yellow sweater, with her long red-gold hair flowing down her back. With the casual attire and minus any makeup, she didn’t look like the elegant, beautiful woman Cash remembered from the premiere of her movie, the month before.
She fidgeted nervously as she opened the door, smiling. “Come in,” she said quickly. “I hope you’re both hungry. I made beef Stroganoff.”
Cash’s dark eyebrows rose. “My favorite. How did you know?” he added with wicked dark eyes.
She cleared her throat.
“It’s my favorite, too,” Rory laughed, coming to her rescue. “She always makes it for me on the night I come home.”
Cash chuckled. “That puts me in my place.”
She was looking around behind him. “No suitcase?” she asked. “I cleaned the spare bedroom.”
“Thanks, but I booked a room at the Hilton, down town,” he said with a warm smile. “I like my own space.”
“Oh. Right.” She laughed self-consciously, before she awkwardly turned away and hugged Rory. “It’s great to have you home for the holidays!” she said. “You made good grades, I hear, too.”
“I did,” he assured her.
“And got detention for fighting,” she added deliberately.
He cleared his throat. “An older boy called me a name I didn’t like.”
“Yes?” She folded her arms across her chest and kept staring at him, unblinking.
Rory’s eyes flashed. “He called me a bastard.”
Her own green eyes flashed as well. “I hope you knocked him down.”
He grinned. “I did. He’s my buddy now.” He glanced at Cash, who was watching the byplay with interest. “Nobody else ever stood up to him. He had the makings of a real bully, but I saved him from that awful fate.”
Cash burst out laughing. “Good for you.”
Tippy pushed back her hair. “Let’s eat. I haven’t had lunch,” she added, leading the way into a small but cozy kitchen. The table was set with an embroidered table cloth, on which rested colorful plates, cups, saucers and elegant silverware. She pulled a jug of milk out of the refrigerator and poured two crystal goblets full of it.
“Got another glass?” Cash asked as he paused by a chair. “I like milk.”
She gave him a startled look. “I was going to offer you a whiskey…”
His face tightened. “I don’t drink hard liquor. Ever.”
She was taken aback. “Oh.” She turned away with real embarrassment. She hadn’t said one thing right since he’d walked in the door. She felt like an idiot. She got out another crystal goblet and filled it to the brim with milk. He was such a puzzling man.
He waited until she had the food on the table, and she sat down before he took his own seat. His graciousness made her feel at ease.
“See that?” she told Rory. “There’s nothing wrong with good manners. Your mother must have been a charming woman,” she added to Cash.
Cash took a sip of milk before he answered. “Yes. She was.” He didn’t enlarge on the brief admission.
Tippy swallowed hard. This was going to be an or deal if he was this tight-lipped all night. She recalled what Christabel Gaines had told her once about Cash, that his parents’ marriage was broken up by a model. Apparently the memories were still painful.
“Rory, say grace,” she murmured quickly, adding another shock to Cash’s growing collection of them.
They all bowed their heads. She lifted hers a minute later and gave Cash a mischievous glance. “Tradition is important. We didn’t have any to start with so Rory and I decided on a few of our own. This was one.”
He picked up the serving bowl at her nod and helped himself to Stroganoff. “And the others?”
She smiled at him shyly. It made her look younger. She wasn’t wearing makeup, except for a light lipstick, and her hair looked fresh and clean swinging loose around her shoulders.
“We add a new ornament to the Christmas tree every year and we hang a pickle in the tree.”
His fork poised in midair. “A what?”
“A pickle, Cash,” Rory replied. “It’s a German custom, for good luck. Our grandfather on our mother’s side was German.” He finished a bite of meat and washed it down with milk. “What were your people, Cash?”
“Martians, I believe,” Cash replied seriously.
Tippy’s eyebrows lifted.
“Right.” Rory chuckled.
Cash grinned at him. “My mother’s mother was from Andalusia, in Spain,” he said with a smile. “My father’s people were Cherokee and Swiss.”
“Quite a combination,” Tippy remarked, studying him.
He stared at her curiously. “Your ancestors must
