Читать книгу A San Diego Romance - Kianna Alexander - Страница 14

Chapter 4

Chris spent the better part of Saturday night lying awake. In the center of a king-size bed, with an extra-firm mattress, seven-hundred-thread-count sheets and extra-plush pillows, he should have slept peacefully. He’d closed his eyes, shifted positions, willed himself to seek rest. Despite his efforts, thoughts of Eliza kept him up, in more ways than one.

As he lay alone in the darkness, visions of her beautiful face filled his mind. She’d always been lovely, but now she’d fully grown into her beauty. She was savvy, successful and doing what she loved. He knew well the joy of turning one’s passion into a career, and her enjoyment showed through in the way she ran her boutique.

Then, on top of all her wonderful qualities, she’d been patient and helpful with Jojo. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his daughter get along so well with someone she’d just met. Jojo had used the word cool to describe Eliza, and that was very high praise coming from a teenage girl.

She’s perfect. Or at least, as close to perfect as a man could ever hope for. Fate had brought her into the office a few days ago. Now he wanted her back in his life, for good. He could still see the conflicted expression she’d worn when he asked to see her again. It seemed like she wanted him to, but something was stopping her from giving him a chance. What was holding her back from him? What was she afraid of?

He had no answers to those questions, and before he could decide how to assuage her fears, exhaustion got the better of him.

* * *

Over the next few days, he stayed close to home. Most of his time was spent in the well-appointed office he’d included in the floor plan of his one-of-a-kind home. The house, a supermodern structure built of white marble and impact-resistant glass, sat nestled into a hillside high above the city. The property boasted an underground garage, an infinity pool and panoramic views of the city and the bay below. His office, located on the second floor, had one entire wall made of glass that overlooked the pool.

Chris spent hours at his drafting table, fine-tuning his design for the Museum of Sustainable Art. Based on the museum’s mission statement, the building would be built with as many recycled building materials as structurally possible, while still maintaining an attractive and safe result. The parameters of the job presented a unique challenge, but Chris embraced it. This project gave him a rare opportunity to stretch his creative mind and take his art to a higher plane. He used his straightedge to map out lines and wrote notes in the margins of the drafting paper as he worked.

During the day, while he lost himself in the passionate pursuit of the perfect design for the museum, he could push away his thoughts of Eliza. At night, however, when he set down his pencils and left the office, she haunted him like a specter. He ordered in for dinner, watched television, read the sports and business news online. No matter what he did, if he wasn’t working, he found himself thinking of her.

He wondered why she hadn’t called him yet with a decision on whether she’d go out with him again. Part of him held out hope; after all, how long did it take to say no? He surmised she would have called sooner if she meant to turn him down.

Tuesday night, as he perused one of his favorite business blogs, he felt his cell phone vibrating on his hip. Checking the display, he answered the phone right away. “Hello?”

“Hi, Chris. It’s Eliza.”

He knew that, because he’d saved her number in his phone when he called her the first time. So, she finally decided to call. He wanted to ask her if she’d made a decision, but he held back. Remembering his promise not to pressure her, he kept his tone casual. “It’s good to hear from you. What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Jojo, and the things you bought from the boutique.”

His eyebrow hitched. This was not what he’d expected to hear when she called him. “What’s there to talk about? You were a great help, she loved the things we bought and I dropped a nice chunk of change in the store. We’re all happy, right?”

“Well, I thought we were.” Eliza paused for a moment. “But apparently that wasn’t the case.”

Confused, he set his laptop aside and asked, “What do you mean?”

“Everything’s been returned.”

His brow crinkled. “Now, wait a minute. I saw Jojo’s face, and there’s no way she would have...”

“She didn’t, Chris. Sheila brought everything back.”

Chris drew in a breath and cringed. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.” Eliza cleared her throat. “Sheila seemed quite displeased with all the items. She basically told me that she’d pick out her own daughter’s dresses, and that she didn’t require my ‘interference.’”

“Oh, no.” Chris knew he’d repeated himself, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Hearing that his ex-wife had gone into Ellicott’s and acted that way mortified him. “I’m so sorry this happened, Eliza.”

“It isn’t your fault. Obviously, she wasn’t satisfied with what Jojo brought home.”

More like, she wasn’t satisfied with who the items were purchased from. He imagined Jojo had gone home, chattering on about Eliza and how cool she was, and that just hearing Eliza’s name had set Sheila off. “It’s not your fault, either. Your products are great quality, and my daughter loved them. This is just Sheila’s way. She can’t resist an opportunity to stir up drama.”

Eliza sighed. “Jojo did seem really happy with what she picked out. I wonder if she even knows her mother returned everything.”

“Probably not. Again, I’m really sorry about all this.”

“It’s okay.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m really glad you called, Eliza. It’s nice to hear your voice again. To be honest, I was starting to think I wasn’t going to hear from you.”

She released a cute little chuckle. “The funny thing is, I probably wouldn’t have called today if your ex hadn’t shown up in the store.”

“Hmm. In that case, Sheila did me a favor.”

“Chris, I really don’t want to cause problems between you and Sheila. Since she’s the twins’ mother, you two have to be able to be cordial, at least.”