“Okay, enough,” he barked. He wasn’t going to wait around for her to start mocking his place. “I’ve just come from eight hours with a crowbar and I want to get home.”
“I’ve got a job to do,” she replied. “I want all the decisions made before the crew gets here.”
“I thought we’d have to hash it all out on camera.” Was he actually going to give in? Trust the enemy?
“Oh, we will. But that’ll be after-the-fact. We’ll go over the important stuff again for the camera. It’ll be edited for greatest impact. It’s entertainment, after all.” She did a double take. “Are you saying you watch my show?”
He practiced a lazy shrug. “They’re all the same, aren’t they?”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that. Tell me what you have in mind and we’ll start there.”
He glanced at his watch. “Right now?”
“Why not?”
“I haven’t decided if I’m even doing this with you.” And Holly was waiting for him at the store.
“Can one of your brothers take your place? Then we won’t have to work with each other.”
No way did he want his brothers thinking they had to come to their little brother’s rescue because he couldn’t work with someone. He crossed his arms. “No.” If he had to do this, he’d be the one having a say in what kind of touches Rachel put on his place.
He heard the back door slam and the slap of running feet. “Dad! Are you in here?”
Damn, he really didn’t want his little girl getting involved with Rachel Bradford. Too late now. Beck turned and opened his arms to catch Holly when she threw her arms around his waist, as she did every afternoon. She was growing up so fast. Almost double digits, as she liked to say. His daughter looked past him and wriggled out of his arms. Then bounced up and down on her toes, her expression like a beam of sunlight.
“Rachel Bradford? Holy pepperoni, it’s Rachel Bradford. I thought Grandma was kidding when she said she was coming to Lakeside.”
Beck glanced behind him to see Rachel’s gaze jumping between him and his daughter. What? Was it such a surprise he’d have a kid? Or was it that he was a single dad, of a young girl, who wanted to open a bar? She had no business judging him.
He wrapped his arm around Holly’s waist and tugged her close. “Rachel, this is my daughter, Holly. Hol, this is Rachel Bradford.”
“Star of The Rachel Touch, I know.” Holly took a few steps forward, until she was right in front of Rachel. And then his chatterbox took off. “I’m your biggest fan. I want to be an interior designer like you when I grow up. I designed my bedroom with tulips and butterflies, like that one you did on TV. Want to see it?” Holly turned to glance at Beck. “She can come home with us, like for dinner, can’t she? And I can show her my room.” She whirled back to Rachel before he had a chance to say a word. “You’re going to love it. I know you will.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Holly,” Rachel said stiffly. “But…”
Of course, a Bradford wouldn’t want to have dinner with a Colburn, but he wasn’t going to let Holly feel it the way he did growing up. “Sweetie, Rachel just got to town. She probably has a lot of things to do tonight.”
“Do you? Do you have a lot of things to do? Do you have someplace to go for dinner, cuz my Grandma is sending us home a big bowl of chili and her chili is super good but we never can finish it all at one time so I know there’ll be plenty. And then you can see my room.”
“I’m sure your mother wouldn’t appreciate…”
“My mother died.” His daughter pulled her poor-me expression, milking it for all it was worth. “So it’s okay for you to come to dinner.”
“Oh, oh, I’m so sorry,” Rachel stammered, and he wasn’t proud of the fact that he got a little charge out of her embarrassment.
“Sweetie…” Beck grabbed Holly’s hand and met Rachel’s gaze. He cleared his throat and reminded himself that he was an adult, and a father, and had to set a positive example for his daughter. “Of course, you’re welcome to come for dinner.”
“Thank you for the invitation, but I’m having dinner with my family tonight. Soon. Just as well we can’t talk more now.” She swept her hands down her skirt, as if she were making sure it lay flat over her hips. “We’ll meet here early in the morning. We have a lot to talk about.”
…
Would Beckett really pull out of the deal? He could. Just out of spite. Would her only opportunity to save her show die before she even had a chance? Would she have to endure everyone’s pity and judgment because she’d failed at the one thing she was good at?
Rachel was in a fog for the entire drive to her brother’s house. Something about this place brought out the worst in her. Or was it seeing Beckett again that had her reacting like the insecure girl she used to be? She was supposed to show him how talented and successful she was now. She certainly hadn’t wanted to end up sprawled at his feet. Her face grew hot thinking about it.
Luckily, Ethan and Helen lived only a few miles down the lake road. Even then she was horrified to think she’d driven at all when she was so distracted by her thoughts of Beckett Colburn.
Ethan bragged often about the house he’d built after he bought two adjoining lake properties, torn the old houses down, and built one monstrosity for him and his wife to live in. Of course, Ethan used terms like grand and impressive, but Rachel had seen the pictures, and viewing the real thing now still didn’t impress her. Who needed a turret when an open porch would have made it much easier to enjoy the view? He’d been an attention seeker from the cradle and obviously hadn’t changed at all.
Rachel grabbed her purse and got out of the car. Helen, looking crisp and cool in a linen blouse and pants, opened the ornate front door before Rachel reached it. “Where have you been? We expected you long before now.” She glanced over Rachel’s shoulder, looking around.
Did Helen expect her to be shadowed by a camera already? “Sorry. I stopped to check out the property on my way here.”
Helen’s frown barely lifted. “You didn’t bring the film crew with you tonight? I do hope they’ll come by our home so people can see our town isn’t only bars and junkyards.”
Ethan appeared behind Helen. No welcoming hug from him, either, not that she really wanted one. “It’s too bad it took your job to force you to come back home.”
“You love coming out to California to visit.”
“Of course, we do.” Helen sighed blissfully. “All the shopping. But, of course, we love having you here, too.”
Only since Rachel was bringing a TV crew with her.
“Are your bags in the car?” Ethan asked, reaching for her keys.
“I booked a room at The Lilac Inn.” The lovely Victorian B&B promised a restful evening once she made it through this family dinner.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Helen said. “You’ll stay here.”
“Thanks, but no.” She’d go crazy from their formality, and they only wanted bragging rights that a “celebrity” slept there. “I don’t mind. You two always stay in a hotel when you visit me.”
Ethan huffed. “You have a tiny apartment. Give me your keys. I’ll grab your bag.”
“I’ve already dropped off my bags at the Inn. Are Mom and Dad here yet?”
“They’re at the club having drinks with some new investors. They’ll be here soon.”
Thank goodness they weren’t here yet. She’d never hear the end of it if they had to wait for her. “Dad doesn’t know the meaning of retirement, does he?” He owned an investment firm and apparently liked to stay involved.
Her parents thought she was an embarrassment. They made no secret of the fact they thought being a TV celebrity was crass and not at all what they expected of a Bradford. On the rare times they came to California to see her, they always made it sound as if the trip were an imposition.
She fol
lowed Helen on a tour of the massive home. They had no children to fill up all the space, but maybe they’d been hoping for ones who never came. Or maybe they threw gala parties and had tons of overnight guests.
Or then again, maybe it was just Ethan showing off.
Happy to see a guest bathroom, she pleaded for a moment to freshen up before dinner. At least she had a brief reprieve from her parents’ displeasure. Maybe they wouldn’t show up at all.
She pushed away the panic she’d felt when she left the fire station. Beckett couldn’t refuse to work with her. She’d have to find a way to convince him, even though it meant working with the guy who’d ruined the Prada bag she got for her seventeenth birthday when he slipped some oily tuna into it. She wasn’t going to lose this chance.
She brushed her hair and pulled it up into a ponytail before heading for the dining room. She kicked off her sandals in the foyer and sighed with relief. The tile floors were cool on her bare feet. There was little color on the walls or furnishings to soften the rooms, just like the house she’d grown up in. It was on the tip of her tongue to offer some suggestions, but that wasn’t why she was there.
Her parents had arrived while she’d been in the bathroom. Her mother’s outfit was practically identical to Helen’s. She kissed Rachel’s cheek and then studied her through narrowed eyes. “Good to see you, dear.”
“For heaven’s sake, Rachel, you couldn’t dress decently for dinner?” her father complained. He and her brother lounged in matching chairs in the sitting area off the dining room. They both sipped amber liquid from cut-crystal rocks glasses, most likely the manhattans they enjoyed. They both wore pressed trousers, button-down shirts, and shiny black loafers. She’d never realized how much her brother and his wife had modeled themselves after Phoebe and Jefferson Bradford. At one time, she’d tried to conform to their expectations. Her chest clenched as she realized she’d never make them happy.
Rachel poured a glass of red from the decanter sitting on the buffet. She took a deep drink of the wine before responding, “Good to see you, too, Dad.”
He merely frowned and took another sip of his drink. It had been a while since she’d seen him and she noticed how the formidable man had aged. Her mother lowered herself into the chair beside her husband and concentrated on her wine. Rachel took the leather chair on the other side of her. She sipped her wine and couldn’t stop tapping her fingernails on the glass as her father and brother talked business in low tones. Before long, her father sent her a glare. She closed her fingers around the stem and lunged to her feet. She couldn’t bear the stifling silence with these people she didn’t know anymore.
Rachel padded through the dining room and found Helen in the kitchen, uncovering dishes. “It smells amazing,” she said. At least there was a splash of color there. The green marble countertop was a great accent to the white cabinets and stainless appliances.
Helen’s face lit up as she smiled. “Thank you. I love cooking when I get a chance. So often he’s…I mean, we’re so busy that we eat something on the run or we’re out to dinner with his business partners or, you know, friends.”
Just like Mom and Dad.
“I’ll help.” Rachel set down her wine and helped her sister-in-law bring the food into the dining room.
The dinner went peaceably for a short while as they chatted about Dad’s firm and Ethan’s newest project, but it wasn’t long before her brother complained, “I can’t believe you’re not filming my new condo project. Four brand-new units. You could have had free rein to do whatever you wanted.”
“I had nothing to do with choosing the project.”
“You could have pushed for it,” her father said. “For family.”
Rachel took a sip of wine and didn’t respond. She wouldn’t waste her breath.
“That old fire station should have been torn down years ago,” Ethan went on. “I don’t know how the Colburns got their hands on it. I could have snapped up the property and built another condo.”
That explained it. Not only did he think he got cheated out of the free designing and advertising, but he thought he got cheated out of the property as well. “I don’t think this village needs another condo.”
“More visitors are coming to the lake every year,” Helen piped up. “If they buy their summer property here, it boosts the economy of the village. That helps everyone.”
“Of course, you’re right. But as I said, I didn’t have any input in choosing the property.” She didn’t even have any say in the location, but she wouldn’t bring that up. They wouldn’t understand that not everything was under her control, even though the show had her name on it. She had to cater to the network bosses if she wanted to keep her show on the air. She looked around the table and saw everyone frowning at her. It was too much to hope she’d ever have their support. “At least, I had the chance to come back for a little while.”
“I don’t understand why you can’t live here anyway,” her mother said. “You travel all over the country, surely you could do that from anywhere.”
She didn’t want to live in Lakeside. Maybe it was selfish, but for her entire childhood she’d tried to live the life they wanted for her. Was it so wrong to hold on tight to the life she’d built all on her own?
“I want to be close to my grandchildren. If I’ll ever have any grandchildren.” Her mother stared at both her and Helen. Helen didn’t say anything, but Rachel wasn’t afraid to respond.
“Mom, I’m forty. I’m beyond all that.”
The longing was clear in her mother’s expression. “Nonsense. You could give up that ridiculous show and settle down here in Lakeside. Find a man and get married. Children will follow.”
Like finding a man who wasn’t threatened by her success was easy. Or worse, a man who didn’t want to live off her success. Family had never been her dream.
Women had been told they could have it all, but Rachel knew it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. She couldn’t split her focus both ways and excel at either one. Most of the design stars she’d worked with early in her career eventually gave up their on-screen aspirations for motherhood. Rachel loved being in front of the camera, loved transforming rooms for her clients, and loved the visibility her show gave her. She couldn’t imagine giving that up.
She rarely let herself wonder if she’d made the wrong choice, but sometimes the thought crossed her mind. Somehow being here, in Lakeside again, made her wonder if someday she’d regret the decisions she was so certain of. She wasn’t close enough to any of the women to talk about the choices they made, or the choices she’d made. Her industry was too competitive to make close friends.
It didn’t matter. It was too late now.
The second, or was it third, glass of wine was getting to her head. “I love my career no matter what you think of it. Sorry, Mom, it’s not going to happen. Not for me.”
The expression on her parents’ faces simply reinforced the knowledge she was a massive disappointment to them. By now, she should have stopped letting it bother her, but it was impossible in this place where she’d never belonged, with the family who never tried to make a place where she could fit.
Rachel glanced at Helen. Why didn’t she get the third degree? She already had the husband, the house, she’d be Phoebe’s best hope. But before she said anything, Rachel took a good look at her face. There was sorrow there. Frustration. Then anger.
“You throw away the chance to have children and we’d do anything to have a family.” Helen stood and threw her napkin on her plate. The plates clattered as she scooped some up and stalked into the kitchen. A heavy silence settled over the table.
This couldn’t be good. Rachel held her breath as she looked at her brother. He shook his head. “The IVF procedures aren’t working.”
“Oh Ethan…”
He gritted his teeth. “I don’t want to talk about it. Mom, I wish you’d stop begging fo
r grandchildren.” He stood and picked up a few more dishes.
“Let me help,” Rachel said as she got to her feet.
“It’s best if you go.” He left the dining room, stranding her with her parents, both scowling at her as if it was all her fault.
Maybe it was her fault. When she wasn’t there, they were probably able to maintain the status quo. But Rachel’s presence brought it all to the surface. Her mother’s wish for grandchildren. Helen and Ethan’s desire for a child. Her father’s disappointment in his only daughter. The reminder that she’d never fit in, no matter how hard she tried.
“It’s best if I go.”
Rachel returned to her room at The Lilac Inn. Unlike many of the boring hotel rooms she’d stayed in over the years, this room burst with charm. Cranberry and cream floral wallpaper covered the walls. A quilt in the same color scheme covered the queen-size bed. An upholstered wingback chair was covered in yet another floral pattern, but by keeping to the same color palette, the patterns worked together. There was a Queen-Anne-style desk and chair along the other wall, where she’d set up her laptop.
She’d been in a rush when she arrived, so now she took the time to pull out the items she always traveled with. First was a collection of small dresser jars she filled with her favorite lotions. The scents and pretty bottles made any room feel more like home.
Then she tossed two accent pillows onto the bed. She’d knitted the teal seed-stitch covers years ago. She loved working with yarn. It was a hands-on way to play with color and texture.
Rachel picked up the knitting tote and settled into the wingback chair. When she had no other projects going, she knit scarves to donate to charities. She wrapped her hand around the skein of dark-chocolate merino wool and sighed as its softness caressed her skin.
She had to be “on” all the time, for the camera, for her fans, even for her family. It was a relief to relax and just be herself. But it was so quiet. No noisy people in the next room. No road noise or sirens. Just her own thoughts.
The Goodbye Guy (The Men of Lakeside) Page 3