Читать книгу Falling For Gracie - Сьюзен Мэллери, Susan Mallery - Страница 11
ОглавлениеBECCA JOHNSON’S HAND shook as she signed the final loan documents. “I’m scared,” she admitted with a smile.
“This is the point of no return,” Riley told her. “You want the chance to change your mind?”
Becca looked at him in surprise. “Are you kidding? Thanks to you, I’m getting the chance to open a business in my home. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. Since the divorce, I’ve barely been hanging on, financially.” Her smile faded. “Was I supposed to tell you that?”
He did his best to look reassuring. “My loan committee did a thorough check on your credit and income. I doubt you have any financial secrets from us.”
“Okay. I mean I’m good for the money.” She signed the last paper and passed it over to him. “I really appreciate this.”
Becca Johnson was a thirty-something divorced mother of two interested in opening a day-care facility in her home. She’d come to the bank for a loan to cover some remodeling expenses and start-up costs. The committee had been on the fence, so the final decision had been Riley’s. He’d given the woman the loan.
“I figured with so little equity in the house and all....” She stopped talking and shook her head. “I should probably keep my mouth shut. I don’t want you to change your mind at this late date.”
“Too late for that.” He tapped the signed papers on his desk. “We have a binding contract. Good luck with your new business.”
“Thank you.”
She rose and walked to the door of his office. “You’ve been wonderful, Mr. Whitefield. All the other banks in town told me no. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
The praise made Riley uncomfortable. He shrugged off the compliment. “You’re the kind of person who pays her bills on time and that’s what we want.”
She nodded, then stepped out into the hallway. Riley turned his attention to his computer. The door closed, but he knew he wasn’t alone. Even the air stood at attention when Diane entered a room. He glanced at his assistant.
She wore yet another of her infamous tweed suits. A green one this time, with a fussy yellow blouse underneath. Her shoes were dark and sensible—the kind that frightened small children.
“Here are Becca Johnson’s loan documents,” he said, handing her the file. “Please see that they’re processed today and that the money is deposited in her account first thing in the morning.”
His assistant took the papers, but didn’t leave.
“You have something else on your mind?” he asked.
She stood there glaring at him. “I do. Your quarterly projections aren’t very detailed.”
“Is that a criticism?”
“It’s a statement of fact.” She glanced down at the file in her hand. “Funny how Ms. Johnson thinks she’s just been offered the chance to make her heart’s desire come true. If only she knew she’d made a deal with the devil.”
Riley leaned back in his chair. “And here I thought we’d agreed you would call me by my first name.”
Diane’s disapproving expression didn’t change. “How long does she have until her world comes crashing in on her? A month? Are you closing the bank the day after the election or will you wait until the results are certified?”
So, she’d figured it out. Riley wondered if the woman would find any satisfaction in knowing she was right.
“All the loans will be called,” she said. “Every single one. Do you know how many houses that is? How many businesses? You could destroy the town.”
Riley didn’t respond. Her gaze sharpened.
“Don’t you care?”
“Not one damn bit.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She turned on her heel and left.
Riley stared at the closed door. He refused to feel guilty about what he was going to do. If he won, the bank was history. If he didn’t, life would go on as before. Someone else would be brought in to run things.
Diane could destroy his chances, but she wouldn’t. She was from the old school—what happened within the sanctity of the workplace stayed there.
He closed the current program on his computer and accessed the databank. After typing in Diane’s name, he checked for any outstanding loans. There was one on a house. Per the balance, she only owed a few thousand dollars. Even if the bank closed, she would be fine. So what did she have to get so upset about?
Fifteen minutes later, he was halfway through the weekly loan reports when someone banged on his door. Riley looked up and frowned. Diane would never bang, even if she was furious with him, which she probably was.
“Come in,” he called.
The door opened and Gracie peeked around it, into the room. “Hey, it’s me.”
“I can see that.”
“I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
“Why don’t you come into the office and tell me both?”
“I could do that.”
She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. After making her way to his desk, she placed a small pink box in the center and smiled.
“I made you a cake.”
She spoke with a combination of pride and embarrassment that made her cheeks flush. Or maybe they were flushed for another reason—he couldn’t be sure.
Her long blond hair hung down loose and sexy. She wore a short, summery kind of dress that emphasized curves. He was as human as the next man and certainly didn’t mind when an attractive woman wanted to spend a bit of her day with him. Even if that woman was an ex-crazed stalker. But that wasn’t what held him motionless in his seat.
Instead, it was the cake.
“I couldn’t sleep last night and after I’d worked on my decorations for what felt like forty-seven days I decided to do some baking. It’s white cake with a chocolate cream filling. The frosting’s—”
She kept on talking about the frosting and how she’d been unsure of the design, but he wasn’t paying attention. Not really.
His mother had made him cakes for his birthday, of course, but that had been the extent of her baking. She hadn’t been into it and he hadn’t cared. Since then, well, he wasn’t the kind of man women made cakes for.
“Aren’t you going to open it and look?” she asked impatiently.
“Sure.”
He flipped up the top and stared down at the white round cake decorated with a grinning skunk.
He laughed. “I’m impressed.”
“Good. Guys don’t do the flower thing and I don’t know what your hobbies are or anything. I thought the skunk would be funny. Want a taste?”
As she asked, she sank into the leather chair on the visitor side of his desk and dug into her oversized straw bag. She pulled out a wicked looking knife and paper plates in a big Baggie.
“You’re kidding,” he said. “You travel with a knife?”
“Sure.” She withdrew it from the protective cardboard covering. “You never know when you have to cut into a cake and take a taste. At least I don’t.” She handed him the knife, then dug around some more. “I seem to be out of forks.”
“I’ll make do. Want some?”
She shook her head. “I’ll take a taste if you’re worried about me poisoning you or something, but otherwise, no. There was that whole bread thing last night.”
“You only had one piece.”
“You haven’t seen my thighs.”
He had the sudden thought that he would like to. Very much. And maybe the rest of her.
Dangerous, dangerous territory. Better to cut into the cake.
He cut himself a piece and slid it onto a paper plate. She watched anxiously as he took a big bite.
The cake was soft and moist, with just the right texture and a delicate flavor he couldn’t place. The chocolate cream filling tasted like a mousse, but not completely.
“Excellent,” he said sincerely. “The best cake I’ve ever tasted.”
She visibly relaxed. “Good. I worked hard on perfecting my secret recipe, but every now and then, I like to test it out on an unbiased person.”
“You think I’d tell you the truth if I didn’t like your cake?”
“Why would you care about hurting my feelings? I mean with our past?”
“Good point.” He ate another bite of cake, then set the plate on his desk. “If the cake was the good news, what’s the bad?”
Gracie slumped in the seat and hung her head back. “Alexis. She called me in what felt like the predawn hours but was really only about ten to tell me that Zeke had forgotten his briefcase at home so she’d gone by his office to drop it off. In the process of performing her good deed, she walked in on Zeke having what looked like a very personal relationship with...” She paused, straightened and looked right at him. “Brace yourself.”
“I’m braced.”
“Pam.”
It took him a second. “Pam, my ex-wife?”
“One and the same.” Gracie leaned forward and put her hands on his desk. “So, have you seen her since you’ve been back in town?”
“Seen her as in caught a glimpse of her in town? Yes. Seen her as in spent time with her? No.” He held in a smile. “Worried?”
“Not at all. I’m fourteen years over my crush. You can see anyone you’d like. Doesn’t bother me at all.” She made an X on her chest. “Scout’s honor.”
He doubted she had any active interest in his personal life, but last night in the car, they’d both been interested in him kissing her.
“Zeke sleeping with Pam won’t be good for anyone,” Riley said. “Especially not Zeke.”
“So we’re on stakeout detail again?” she asked cheerfully.
“Yes, but this time we’ll follow Pam.”
“At least it won’t be raining.”
“Easier for us to follow her and easier for her to spot us.”
“Life is a trade-off. Six-thirty again?” she asked.
“As we have no idea of her plans, it’s as good a time as any.”
“I’ll be ready.” She stood. “I’ll even bring my camera.”
He winced. “Not a good idea.”
“We need proof.”
“Can’t you get something small and digital?”
“I’m not into technology.”
She picked up the knife and cleaned it with a napkin she’d dug out of her purse. After putting the knife away and dropping the napkin in the trash, she headed for the door.
“See you then.”
With a wave of her fingers, she was gone, leaving Riley with the sense of having been visited by a larger-than-life force.
There was another knock, this one soft and respectful. He guessed it would have been full of rage if she’d known how to transmit that emotion as well.
“Yes, Diane?”
His secretary stepped into his office. “Your one o’clock meeting is ready, sir.”
He pushed the cake box toward her. “This is delicious. You should try some.”
She raised her chin slightly. “No, thank you.”
“Gracie made it for me. Gracie likes me.”
Diane’s expression flashed with the anger that had been missing from her knock. “That’s because she doesn’t know you, sir.”
* * *
“THERE ARE TOO many details,” Gracie’s mother said as she spread out the stack of folders onto the coffee table. “Vivian, honey, we’re going to have to decide about a few things. We have to finalize the menu by the end of the week.”
Gracie sat in a corner of the sofa. She picked up the folder marked “Guest list” and flipped through the pages of names. “Where are you having it?”
“The country club,” Vivian said with a grin. “I’m having a big outdoor wedding with lots of flowers and guests and dancing.”
Gracie did a quick calculation, multiplying the number of guests by a per-head-cost for a meal, then swallowed hard. “Gee, things must be really great at the hardware store,” she murmured more to herself than anyone else.
But her mother heard her and shot her a look. Gracie didn’t know if it meant they weren’t supposed to talk about such things or if her mother appreciated her concern.
“What time is the wedding?” Gracie asked.
“Four,” Alexis said as she walked into the family room carrying a tray filled with drinks and cookies. She set it down on the ottoman and passed out cans of diet soda.
Gracie took hers, then popped it open. “I worked on a wedding once where instead of a sit-down meal, they had tons of appetizers. Not only were waiters circulating with trays, but there were various stations with fun things like melted chocolate for dipping and a mini sandwich bar. The savings for the bride’s family were enormous.”
Her mother picked up a folder marked menus and opened it. “Aren’t appetizers pretty expensive?”
“They can be, but they’re still cheaper than a meal. Plus, people are circulating more, so there’s a lot of opportunities for conversation, which the guests really like. They’re not stuck with the same six people at the table all night. On the savings side, you don’t have to have such fancy table settings or decorations. At a cocktail party, no one expects the chairs to be covered. You can even serve a signature drink that matches the wedding colors, plus beer and wine.”
Vivian narrowed her blue eyes. “Thanks for making my wedding into an experience on the same level as going to the outlet mall, Gracie. You know, another way we could save money is have everyone pack a lunch. Wouldn’t that be too, too stunning for words?”
Gracie stiffened. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help.”
“Yeah, well, don’t. The wedding is in less than five weeks and I’m not changing anything. I want a big sit-down dinner. I want a band and I want lots of dancing. The signature drink idea is a good one, though. I’ll talk to Tom about that.”
Alexis smiled sympathetically at Gracie. “It wouldn’t hurt to save a little money,” she told Vivian.
“Why should I? You and Zeke eloped. Oh, and Gracie’s never getting married, so why shouldn’t all the money be spent on me?”
Alexis shrugged. “Always the baby of the family. You’re spoiled.”
“Whatever.” Vivian grabbed a cookie. “Look, I’m paying for my own wedding dress. Isn’t that enough?”
“It’s fine,” her mother said. “I appreciate you helping out. Let’s talk about the dresses. Yours is ready, isn’t it?”
“It’s in, and I have my first fitting next week.” She turned to Gracie. “It’s so beautiful. Strapless, with lace and a drop waist. The bridesmaid dresses are a similar style, but really simple and elegant. They’re black, edged with white. I can’t wait for you to see them.”
Vivian seemed to have forgotten her explosion from fourteen seconds before, but Gracie hadn’t. The sharp words still stung. Maybe the problem was she didn’t know her role here. Despite all her experience with weddings, she was the odd sister out. If her presence was simply a courtesy, then she should remember to keep her mouth shut.
Still, she wanted to protest that it was unfair of Vivian to assume Gracie wouldn’t get married. She was only twenty-eight and the last time she checked, that didn’t mean love was out of her life forever. Sure there wasn’t anyone special right now, but that could change.
“Alexis’s dress has a matching little shrug that’s so cute.”
Vivian’s previous outburst had been a painful twinge. This revelation was a full-on stab.
Gracie took a swallow of her soda. “It’s important to have the maid of honor stand out a little.”
“Exactly.” Vivian beamed.
Alexis said something about flowers, their mom pulled out yet another folder and Gracie did her best to act normal.
It wasn’t that she minded Vivian asking Alexis to stand up with her. They’d grown up together, they were close. It was that when Vivian had first told her about the wedding, she’d made it clear she was going to ask her friends to be in her wedding, and not her sisters. Apparently she’d only meant not Gracie.
Gracie understood intellectually that while she might technically be a member of this family, she wasn’t in any other way. She’d been gone for the past fourteen years. Things had happened, people had changed. She’d changed. This wasn’t her world. Oh, but it still hurt to be excluded.
“You seem to have everything under control,” she said when they’d finalized the flowers for the bouquets and the tables. “I’m going to head out. I have some baking to do.”
“When are you going to make me some sketches for my wedding cake?” Vivian asked. “I want it huge. I mean really, really big and spectacular. Every inch decorated.”
Which described a cake that would not only go for several thousand dollars, but would take weeks to finish. Not that Vivian would care about that.
“I’ll put something together in the next couple of days,” Gracie promised. She rose.
“I’ll walk you out,” Alexis said and followed her to the front door.
“Well?” she asked when they were alone. “Are you going to find out what’s going on with Zeke and Pam Whitefield?”
“Yes. Riley and I are going to follow her tonight and see what happens.”
“Don’t lose her like you lost Zeke,” Alexis said.
“Thanks for the tip. I wouldn’t have thought of it on my own.”
She left the house and walked to her car. She felt uncomfortable, as if she had a bad taste in her mouth. The house where she’d lived for so long looked exactly as she remembered, but everything else was different, and those changes made her sad.
* * *
RILEY PULLED INTO Gracie’s driveway and found her waiting just outside the front door. The storm had moved on, leaving the sky clear, which would be both a help and a hindrance to their evening plans. It was already twilight, but there were plenty of stars and a good-sized moon to provide light.
Gracie waved when she saw him and walked toward the car. He watched her, noting something was different. Something he couldn’t figure out.
Not her clothes. She’d dressed casually, in dark pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Her blond hair had been fastened back in one of those fancy braids women seemed to love. She even had her damn camera with her.
“What’s up?” he asked when she opened the door and slid onto the passenger seat.
“Hi,” she said with a smile that seemed more forced than genuine.
He left the car in park. “I was asking a question, not offering an urban greeting.”
“What? Oh. You mean what’s up with me?” She shrugged. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
Fine had been the bright, cheerful, glowing woman who had delivered the cake to his office earlier that day. This was not fine.
“Are you sure?” he probed, then could have kicked himself. Did he really want to know what could be up in Gracie’s life?
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She let the smile fade. “Can you be okay with that?”
“Absolutely.”
He backed out of her driveway.
“We’ll swing by Pam’s house and see if she’s there. If she is, we’ll wait and see if she goes out.” He glanced at her. “Sound like a plan?”
“It’s great. When I saw Alexis, she reminded me not to lose Pam this time. Good advice, huh?”
There was something in her voice. Something sharp, but also broken. He gripped the steering wheel and told himself to think about sports.
Fifteen minutes later, he slowed as they turned onto Pam’s street. Her house was on the far corner—a modest single-story structure with a big garden and bay windows.
“She’s here,” he said, pointing to the lights on in the house and the car—a white Lexus GS300—in the driveway.
“Do you know why she’s here?” Gracie asked, speaking for the first time since they’d left her house.
“She lives here.”
“No, I mean why is she in Los Lobos? I would have thought she would head out for the big city.”
“I have no idea.” Nor did he care. Pam was firmly in his past and he was happy to keep her there. She’d lied her way into their marriage and as soon as he’d learned the truth, he’d been gone.
“It’s just I don’t know why they even asked me to be at the meeting,” Gracie said as she stared out the side window toward the house. “Obviously my opinions weren’t welcome. I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. Mom can’t be making that much at the hardware store. I’m sure she owns the house outright, but still.
“Vivian’s acting as if money is no object. A sit-down dinner at the country club? That’s insane.”
Riley didn’t want to ask. He held in the question as long as he could, but it finally escaped. “What are we talking about?”
Gracie sighed. “Nothing. My sister. My younger sister. She’s getting married in a few weeks. That’s why I’m back here. They said they wanted my help. But they don’t. Oh, Vivian wants a wedding cake, though. A big, heavily decorated one. Sure, I’m happy to give her that, but it’s as if she has no idea what she’s asking. We’re talking hundreds of hours. Plus, there’s the whole wedding party. I’m okay with it, but I don’t know why she lied. All she had to do was tell me the truth. So she wants Alexis in the wedding and not me. What do I care?”
Her pain was a tangible creature in the car. Riley wished he was wearing a tie so he could loosen it. Instead he touched her arm.
“It’s okay,” he said, feeling like a complete idiot as he spoke the words. How the hell did he know if it was okay or not?
