Читать книгу The Other Woman - Brenda Novak - Страница 8

“THERE YOU ARE,” DAVE SAID. “Where’ve you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”

Liz had been avoiding his calls and refusing to return his messages—a futile exercise. Despite her resolution to forget him and find someone better suited to her needs, she was right back where she’d been before, wanting to hear his voice, see him, be with him.

“I’ve been busy,” she said, choosing to keep the truth to herself.

“Getting your chocolate shop up and running?”

“Trying to.”

They were talking about innocuous things, but the tension that had slowly built between them since she’d left California—tension that had definitely spiked since Vegas—made Liz nervous. The last time she’d called him, he’d talked almost nonstop about wanting to make love to her again. That was partly why she’d decided to bail out while she still could. Those words hung over everything else they said.

“What’s left to do?” he asked.

His deep voice felt like a caress. Briefly, Liz wondered if he’d have been a temptation when he coached her, had she been less dedicated to Keith. While she’d been married, she hadn’t allowed herself to admire Dave’s muscular physique, engaging smile or laughing eyes. She’d been too in love with her husband, too intent on protecting her family.

Not that it had done her any good. Her marriage hadn’t lasted, despite her commitment to it. When Keith had flown off to “work,” he’d actually been traveling to Dundee to be with Reenie and their three children.

The depth of Keith’s betrayal sometimes crept up on Liz and nearly swallowed her whole. Tonight it was the power of those emotions that eroded her resolve.

Dave made her feel desirable, and that had to count for something. After the toll divorce had taken on her ego, Liz craved the attention.

“A lot,” she said, finally answering his question. “I’m beginning to think it’ll never be finished.”

“And you want to open next week?”

“It would be nice. Winters will be lean. It’d be smart to capitalize on the tourist season as much as I can.”

“We have mild winters here in California. Lots of great weather.”

She grinned at the enticement in his voice. “We weren’t talking about the weather,” she said. “We were talking about tourists.”

“We have lots of those, too.”

“I remember,” she said with a laugh.

“Come on. Don’t you miss it here? Isn’t it time to come home?”

“I can’t.”

“The longer you stay in Idaho, the more difficult it will be to move.”

He had a point. She and her children were growing attached to this place. But Liz didn’t feel she had a choice about staying. Not when leaving would have a negative impact on Mica and Christopher. “I can’t take the kids away from Keith or their half sisters.”

“Ever?”

“Maybe when they’re older.”

There was a slight pause. “Will I be gray by then?”

She laughed. “No, but I probably will be.” She couldn’t help pointing out the difference in their ages. The gap between them had to bother him on some level, didn’t it? She always expected him to wake up and realize how easily he could get someone younger, someone less encumbered. But he usually ignored such references, as he did now.

“I can’t compete with a mother’s dedication to her children.”

“Single mothers have to make tough decisions,” she said.

“And you owe it all to Keith.”

Leaning back, she stretched her legs over one arm of the sofa. Dave was like a bouncy puppy—always warm and friendly. Unlike Carter Hudson, who reminded her of a shark, gliding silently through deep waters. “If Keith hadn’t done what he’d done, we wouldn’t even be talking.”

“Good point.” He became more cheerful. “So…is he helping you get the shop ready?”

“He’s trying. It’s just not coming together as quickly as I’d hoped. Today I wanted him to meet me as soon as he got off work, so he’d have time to patch a wall and make some progress on the painting.”

“And?”

“Angela wanted him to take her on a bike ride, so he showed up two hours late.”

“Sounds to me like he’s dragging his feet.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Maybe he’d rather not see you open this business.”

Liz changed the phone to her other ear. “Why would he care?”

“Didn’t you tell me he wants another chance?” Dave asked.

“That’s what he says.”

“The more independent you are, the less likely you’ll be to give him that chance.”

Liz had never thought of the situation in quite that way. She hadn’t considered Keith’s take on her actions at all. She’d simply wanted to start her own business and stop punching a time card and collecting a small wage from someone else. “The more I make, the more secure Mica and Christopher will be. Which will mean less pressure on Keith to help support them.”

“Doesn’t he need to find a better job, anyway?” Dave asked. “He can’t work at that hardware store indefinitely.”

“He’s looking, and doing some projects on the side. But it isn’t easy to find a software development company that will let him telecommute from Idaho. That’s why he can’t go back to Softscape. They’ve moved their offices from Boise to L.A. and want him to live there. But he won’t move.”

There’s got to be other opportunities in Boise.”

“Even that’s too far to go.”

“Why?”

“I think it’s because he’s afraid he’ll lose his Number One Dad status with Jennifer, Angela and Isabella. The competition he feels toward Isaac has made him even more determined to remain a central figure in their lives.”

“Aren’t divorces fun?” Dave said. “Suddenly parents are competing for their children’s affection and admiration, instead of acting like adults.”

She knew he’d grown up in a broken home. She could tell by the conviction in his words how much he’d hated it. His mother had packed up and moved out of state almost as soon as the divorce was final, and left him with his father. Liz sometimes wondered if he liked older women because he was searching for a mother figure to replace the one he’d lost when he was young. She wanted to ask but was positive it wouldn’t go over very well. “You’re speaking from experience.”

“I am. My father tried to become my best friend, instead of just being my parent. It was pretty damn embarrassing to see him dressing like a kid my own age.”

“It’s tough to keep what’s really important in mind when you’re reeling emotionally,” she said, trying to be fair.

“I know. That’s why I admire you.”

Liz wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t expect any praise for trying to hold up her end, but the compliment felt good. “Thanks,” she said softly.

“What do you need in order to finish the store?” he asked.

“Someone who knows what he’s doing,” she replied with a laugh. “And a few more hours in each day. I’ve been checking out chocolate suppliers, experimenting with ideas, buying the pots and equipment I need, and getting the proper licenses. I haven’t had enough time to focus on the actual improvements. Now I know it won’t happen unless I push a little harder.”

“I wish I was there to help you.”

“Do you know much about carpentry?”

“No. But I’m good at other things.”

“Like…”

His voice turned as thick as honey. “Rubbing the tension from your shoulders.”

Liz covered her eyes and imagined him bending toward her, brushing his lips softly across hers.

Pushing herself upright, she redirected her thoughts. It was that kind of reverie that made her realize she had no business remaining in contact with Dave.

“You won’t even miss me as soon as you get another woman out on the court who has a better pair of legs,” she said.

“Are you kidding?” he replied. “There is no one with a better pair of legs.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

There was a slight pause.

“Dave?”

“What?”

She could tell by his tone that she’d upset him and regretted going so far. “I was only joking.”

“Very funny. You say stuff like that almost every time we talk.”

It was true. She supposed she was trying to remind herself of the risks involved in letting this relationship grow. “I’m sorry. Maybe if you were older, I could take you more seriously.”

“Here we go again.”

Liz rubbed her left temple. “It’s just—”

“Who cares about the difference in our ages?” he interrupted. “It’s only seven years. If I was older than you, no one would think twice about it.”

Liz turned off the lamp overhead. She preferred to sit in the dark when talking to Dave. “It’s not only that,” she said. “It’s the fact that I have two children.”

“So? I’m good with kids. Do I have to be thirty before you’ll introduce me?”

“Of course not. If we lived closer, you could meet Mica and Chris.” She wasn’t sure that was really the case. Setting herself up for disappointment was one thing; doing it to her children was another. But she didn’t want to argue.

“I bet if I was there, I could make you forget about the age difference.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“I proved you wrong once. Should I come for a visit? See if I can do it again?”

Liz blinked in surprise. They often talked about their trip to Vegas and the possibility of another meeting. He’d been pressuring her to return to L.A. for a few days. But even though Dave had a cousin in Boise, this was the first time he’d ever mentioned venturing into her world.

She guessed that would be a little too much reality for both of them.

Knowing if she could just put him off now they’d probably never address the issue again, she said, “It’d be better to come in the winter when you’re not so busy at the club, wouldn’t it?”

“Winter is pretty far away.”

“Mommy?”

Liz spun around as if she’d just been caught doing something wrong. Christopher was standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. “What’s the matter, honey?”

“I can’t sleep,” he complained. “Will you lie down with me?”

Liz bit her lip. She wasn’t ready to end the conversation. But as she looked at her son’s sleepy face and thought of how quickly he was growing up, she knew what she needed to do. “I’ve gotta go,” she said into the receiver.

“Call me later?” Dave asked.

“Tomorrow,” she said and hung up.

CARTER HUDSON WAITED impatiently beneath the old-fashioned sign that identified Liz’s new store as a chocolaterie. He’d never heard of a chocolaterie, but she was the one who had to worry about making this business a success. His only problem was that he had to spend a whole day with her, which wasn’t going to be easy because she reminded him so much of Laurel.

He remembered the feel of Liz’s slim fingers, the flutter of the pulse at her wrist. When he’d touched her hand at the restaurant, he’d wanted to close his eyes, block out the restaurant and everyone else in it, and simply count the steady beat of her heart. How he craved just one more moment with Laurel, the chance to say goodbye…

He’d been too aggressive with Liz. But he didn’t care. The whole encounter had been illogical. Besides, he wasn’t planning on getting to know her in any meaningful way, so it didn’t matter. Which was good, because they weren’t off to a better start this morning. After dragging him out of bed at the crack of dawn, she was late. The only shops open this early were those that catered to the ranchers—the diner, the feed store, the hardware store and the old-fashioned doughnut shop.

Wishing he’d stopped for a cup of coffee, Carter wandered over to Belinda’s Bagels two doors down, then frowned at the sign in the window. The place didn’t open until eight. Evidently bagels, at least in Dundee, were a tourist item, and tourists typically didn’t venture into town until later in the morning.

He considered walking back to the doughnut shop—it was only a few blocks away—but ultimately decided not to. He’d grab a cup when the bagel shop opened. He’d need that coffee even more in a couple of hours. Last night he’d had another terrible nightmare. After jerking awake in a cold sweat, it had taken at least ten minutes to convince himself he’d just been dreaming.

Laurel…

The sudden, hollow ache in his chest nearly made him sick. He knew the pain would ease eventually. He’d had plenty of practice dealing with that. He just had to keep his mind occupied.

Dropping a quarter into the newspaper bin next to the curb, he removed a copy of the Dundee Weekly and sat down at one of three small outdoor tables. If Liz didn’t come in the next fifteen minutes, he was going to head home. Helping her finish the inside of her chocolate shop wasn’t actually in his job description. He would’ve said so the night before, but the supportive, helpful attitude of the people around here inspired him. Dundee was so different from the big city. So…rejuvenating.

He needed the change, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Of course, the helpfulness he so often encountered here had a downside. It sometimes bordered on nosiness, even outright interference. But at least these folks typically meant well. At least they cared.

He gazed down the ribbon of street that split the small town in half. Would it have made a difference if he’d brought Laurel to a place such as this?

The question crept unbidden into his consciousness but, with some effort, he shoved it out of his mind. Second-guessing wouldn’t help. There was nothing more he could have done. And now he had no choice except to square his shoulders and face each new day as it came.

He shifted his attention to the newspaper and, slowly, the ache subsided. He found no stories of rape or murder. No missing persons. Nothing violent or ugly. The headline read Crab Feed Raises $10,000 for Schools. He couldn’t call the accompanying article riveting, but it was comforting to know that a crab feed could still be front-page news.

Laurel would’ve liked that….

Annoyed with himself, he made another attempt to control his thoughts by moving to the article directly below the one he’d already read.

City Council Bucks Rodeo Improvements

Is it time to improve the rodeo grounds? According to Councilwoman Foley, it is. But with Mayor Wells out of town, the council voted 3–2 last week against appropriating the necessary funds. Fortunately, the opportunity to make your opinion heard hasn’t been lost. The mayor is back and calling for another vote. If you’d like to see…

The beep of a horn brought up Carter’s head. Liz had arrived. At last.

Tucking the paper under his arm, he stood and waited for her to park.

Her keys rattled as she slipped them into her pocket and hurried over. Dressed in a red T-shirt, blue denim shorts, tennis shoes and a gray zip-up sweatshirt to ward off the morning chill, she’d pulled her long blond hair into a ponytail. She hadn’t bothered with makeup, but then she didn’t need any. Large hazel eyes watched him from above a narrow, well-defined nose and high cheekbones. As much as he hated to acknowledge it, she possessed a delicate sort of beauty. Like Laurel’s. But her mouth was all her own. Too expressive for a woman who looked so reserved and sophisticated, it added an accessible human touch to a face that, without it, might have almost appeared too perfect—more like white marble than flesh and bone.

“Have you been waiting long?” she asked as she approached him.

He sent her a pointed glance. “Since six.”

“Right. You were on time. Of course.” She cleared her throat and shifted a roll of blueprints from one arm to the other. “Sorry about that. I had trouble rousing Keith’s mother. She’d forgotten she agreed to get the kids off to school for me.”

“No problem.” Trailing her to the shop, he waited as she unlocked the door. Then he followed her inside to find the gutted remains of a retail establishment, which he knew from the conversation the night before, had previously been a barbershop. He eyed the well-worn floor, the freshly patched wall, the wheelbarrow in the corner. A door at the back led to what appeared to be another room. “Storage?” he asked, waving toward it.

“It used to be a small apartment, which the previous owner leased out. When we’re done it’ll be my kitchen and pantry.”

He rubbed his chin. “So we’re starting from scratch.”

“Basically.”

“What’s the goal here? With the improvements, I mean?”

She unrolled her plans on the lone display case and let Carter take a look. “Have you ever seen the movie Chocolat?”

“Never heard of it.”

She stared at him. “It was nominated for several Academy Awards, including best picture.”

He was busy already noting what would have to be done, trying to estimate how long the work might take him. “When?”

“I don’t know exactly. Several years ago.”

The biggest part of the job would be the kitchen. The showroom needed little more than flooring and paint and the placement of some additional display cases and shelving. “Does this movie have any karate fights?”

“No.”

He glanced up at her. “Explosions?”

She scowled. “It’s not that kind of movie.”

“Then I probably didn’t waste my money on it,” he said, a shrug in his voice.

He was teasing, but if she understood that she didn’t crack a smile. “Your loss,” she said, sounding slightly offended. “It’s fabulous. Almost as good as the book.”

Having studied the plans, Carter crossed the floor to make sure Keith’s patched wall was dry enough to paint. “I’m guessing there’s a tie-in?”

She put down her purse on top of the plans, to keep the paper from rolling back into a scroll. “There is. I’m trying to re-create the atmosphere of the shop in that movie.”

“Which was a choco-later-ie?”

“That was a poor attempt even for a Yankee,” she said, making a face. “It’s pronounced chocolaterie. The movie is set in a provincial French town.”

He’d slaughtered the word on purpose, but he didn’t bother to point that out. “Just like this small western one, huh?”

At last she seemed to realize he was baiting her. Her mouth twitched as if she might smile, but she frowned instead. “I can only do so much. Anyway, Vianne, who owns the chocolate shop in the movie, has traveled widely and brings a bit of her mother’s Mayan heritage along with her. I want to decorate this shop the same way.”

“I’m not familiar with Mayan decor,” he said, facing her.

“Think decadent and sensually appealing, with a South American flavor.”

Carter hadn’t found anything sensually appealing in a long time, regardless of the “flavor,” but he pretended otherwise. “It’s starting to sound good.”

Too caught up in her vision to be interrupted, she ignored him. “You see, Vianne is serving more than chocolate to the locals—”

“And now it’s getting even better.”

She spread her hands in exasperation. “Would you quit?”

Satisfied he’d already made himself look like enough of an ass, he became more serious. “Okay, so what’s she serving?”

“Love, acceptance, change—a rebirth. I find the whole concept incredibly…uplifting.”

As much as he’d decided he wouldn’t let himself like Liz—nor let her like him—he couldn’t poke fun at that. Her sincere words seemed to echo around the hollow space inside him, making him crave those very things.

“Are you actually making the chocolate?”

“No, Vianne crushed cocoa beans and made her own chocolate. But there’s no need for me to do the same. Generally, only really large companies do that. I buy my chocolate from San Francisco.”

“Ghirardelli?”

“No, Guittard. For some of my truffles, I also incorporate European chocolate to produce my own unique flavor.”

“So they ship it to you from California?”

“Exactly. It comes in boxes of five ten-pound bars, which I temper and then use to create various decadent candies.”

“Temper?”

“Melt in a particular way, to keep it shiny and smooth.”

“What kind of candies?”

“Candies made with pretzels, Oreos, marshmallows…Strawberries, bananas and raisins dipped in chocolate. I also make fudge and truffles, even cakes and frosted brownies. But like Vianne, my signature is going to be rich hot chocolate.”

The passion and excitement in her voice again summoned memories of Laurel. Turning away, Carter pretended to examine the walls, making note of the nicks and gouges that remained. “We should really patch a few more spots.”

“Probably,” she said. “Old LeRoy wasn’t much for maintenance or housekeeping. The dirt and grime in this place was unbelievable when I got here.”

No longer interested in conversation, Carter let her comment go. “Do you have the supplies we’ll need?”

Her eyebrows inched up a notch at his brisk tone, but she responded at once to the question. “I should. Keith brought over a lot of stuff last night. It’s all in the back room. If we need anything else, there’s always the hardware store down the street. And the good news is that we finally have a sink that works, which should help with rinsing out trays and so forth. I just had the plumber install it yesterday.”

Carter glanced in the direction Liz had pointed. The bathroom door was only partially open. He couldn’t see the sink well—but it didn’t look right. Walking over to the doorway, he poked his head inside. “Did you say he already installed it or he’s going to?”

Liz came up behind him. She didn’t answer; she didn’t need to. The shock on her face, when she saw that the sink had been torn from the wall, said everything.