“No anchovies. I’m not picky otherwise, but some veggies would be nice.”
Glad for the brief reprieve, Jessica went inside the store and locked the door behind her. She tallied the day’s receipts, filled out a bank deposit slip and then returned everything to the safe...which raised another question. Would Moonlight Ventures move the safe to a different location? The thing weighed a lot and was solidly installed so it couldn’t be stolen by someone with a screwdriver and a strong back. Moving it wouldn’t be easy.
There was plenty to discuss with Logan and she still wasn’t sure if she should agree to the move. It was a huge risk, either way.
CHAPTER EIGHT
PENNY STIRRED HER spaghetti sauce on the stove and then checked the meatballs in the oven.
“I’m glad Mr. Kevin is coming for dinner,” Cyndi said. She was peeling carrots at the kitchen island, her brow creased with concentration. “Can we play a game after we eat?”
“He might enjoy that. Let’s ask.”
“Good. He isn’t like Grandpa Eric, but...” Cyndi’s voice trailed away and she looked puzzled.
“Is something wrong, dear?”
“A kid at school told me I shouldn’t talk about Grandpa Eric. His grandpa died and his mom gets mad if he says things about him ’cause it makes his grandma cry.”
Penny kissed her great-granddaughter’s forehead. “It’s okay to talk about Grandpa Eric to me. I’m sad he isn’t here, but it also makes me happy to know how much people loved him.”
Cyndi’s nose wrinkled. “You’re happy and sad at the same time? That’s weird.”
“I know. You’ll figure it out when you’re older.”
“That’s what my teacher said when I asked why Doug Thornton was so mean. But I’m older now and I still don’t know why. And he’s still mean.”
Penny laughed ruefully. She remembered being told she was too young to understand. She’d disliked it as much as her great-granddaughter.
“I’m afraid we can only learn some things through experience,” she admitted. “But about Grandpa Eric, think of it as having different voices inside, telling you different things at the same time. Remember when you didn’t want to go to a classmate’s birthday party, then felt funny when you weren’t invited?”
“Oh. So I guess it’s okay to like Mr. Kevin. It doesn’t mean I don’t love Grandpa Eric any longer. I do, bunches and bunches.”
Penny was beginning to understand what troubled Cyndi. Kevin was around a good deal, even more now that Eric was gone, and in her little-girl way she was wondering where he fit into her world.
“It’s good to like lots of people,” Penny said, not wanting to make too much of the matter.
“Okay.”
Penny washed the carrots Cyndi had peeled and sliced them into the salad. It had seemed natural to invite Kevin to dinner when he called, the way she would have invited him and Allison if they’d just gotten home from a trip. True, the situation had changed, but was she supposed to behave differently now? They were old friends and had grieved together through the loss of their spouses.
A breathy gasp came from Cyndi, catching Penny’s full attention. “Do you need your inhaler, hon?”
“I don’t think so.” Cyndi closed her eyes and mouthed numbers as she inhaled and exhaled slowly.
Penny thought about running for the inhaler, but the specialist had been teaching Cyndi relaxation techniques to help deal with her asthma attacks. In very mild cases, she was able to get by without medication.
Her doctor said she might grow out of the condition, but in the meantime, it was a serious worry. If only the urgent care clinic was up and running. Getting a facility was simply the first step. After that they’d need both medical staff and an administrator.
Within a few minutes Cyndi was smiling and feeling well enough to answer the door when the bell rang.
“Hi, Mr. Kevin,” she said. “I love the postcard you sent me. Why do they call Chicago the Windy City? Aren’t other cities windy?”
“Yes, but in Chicago they get wind off Lake Michigan and it sometimes blows pretty hard. Cities have nicknames for different reasons, but that’s the one I like best.”
“Oh.”
Penny had stepped out of the kitchen, annoyed at feeling awkward. Kevin was a dear friend and it was her job as hostess to make him comfortable.
“Dinner is almost ready,” she said. “It’s great seeing you, but it must have been tough to leave your daughter and the baby.”
“You have no idea. Little Allie is a bundle of heaven. It didn’t help when I ran into Mary Gentry before I could escape inside my condo.” He clutched his forehead in mock horror. “I’m sure she’ll bring me an inedible casserole tomorrow. Her last husband probably kicked the bucket just to get away from her cooking.”
Penny grinned. She’d never met Mary but had heard stories. “She’s just lonely, Kevin. You can’t blame her.”
“I realize that.” He dropped grumpily into a chair. “But I refuse to become number three. I have standards, you know.”
“What does kicked the bucket mean?” Cyndi asked, looking puzzled.
Oops.
Kevin ruffled her hair. “Right now it means I wasn’t being kind about someone who means well but gets on my nerves.”
“There’s a boy at school who gets on my nerves, too. He thinks he knows everything.”
“Cyndi, will you get the salad dressing while I bring the hot dishes to the table?” Penny asked.
“Okay.”
The meal was simple, but Kevin seemed to enjoy every bite, asking for seconds and complimenting them both when she explained that Cyndi had helped with the salad. After eating, Penny asked to see pictures of baby Allie and the three of them clustered together on the couch to look at the shots he’d taken with his smartphone.
“She’s absolutely beautiful,” Penny said. She wanted to say the baby took after her grandmother but was reluctant to remind Kevin that Allison had died before she could see her first grandchild. With a start, Penny recalled Cyndi’s worry that she shouldn’t talk about Grandpa Eric. She drew a deep breath. “And Allie looks just like her namesake.”
Kevin beamed. “I think so. Jill is certain her mom was with her, every single step of the pregnancy and caesarean.”
Cyndi’s eyes grew large. “Is Mrs. Allison a ghost?”
“No, dear.” Penny kissed her forehead. “But many of us believe the people we love can visit in spirit after they’re gone. It’s wonderful, isn’t it, to think Grandpa Eric and Allison come back to see us, hoping we’re happy?”
“I guess, but I miss Grandpa Eric’s hugs.”
I miss them, too, cried Penny’s heart. She was certain she’d see Eric again, but it wasn’t the same as hearing his voice and holding his hand.
“I’m not Grandpa Eric, but would one of my hugs help?” Kevin asked gruffly.
“Uh-huh.” Cyndi scrambled to her knees and threw herself into his arms.
Penny’s gaze met Kevin’s and she wasn’t surprised to see him blink moisture from his eyes. He was sentimental, the way Eric had been. She and Allison used to joke that they’d been forced to be practical so their husbands could remain corny romantics. It was only partly true—Penny and her friend had been corny and romantic, as well.
Cyndi dropped back on her heels. “Mr. Kevin, do you want to watch a movie or play a game tonight?”
“A game, but I’ll be glad to watch a movie if you prefer.”
Cyndi’s tone had revealed which activity she preferred and Kevin was too fond of kids to choose anything different.
“Scrabble?” Cyndi asked hopefully.
“Careful,” Penny warned. “This kid is scary good at word games.”
Cyndi giggled.
“That’s all right, I’ll take my chances. Scrabble, it is.”
His gaze met Penny’s again and they both smiled. How could she have felt awkward before? With Allison and Eric gone, Kevin was the best friend she had in the world.
* * *
LOGAN PAID THE pizza delivery guy and brought the food to the break room. Jessica had arrived a few minutes earlier and he noticed she didn’t seem comfortable.
“I hope the lounge doesn’t give you claustrophobia,” he said, setting everything on the table. “Without a window, I can feel trapped in here. Someday we hope to install skylights. The dome kind, so they’ll work with a rooftop garden, which is another one of our dreams.”
“I prefer rooms with windows, too. But this is fine.”
He took plates and silverware from a cabinet.
Jessica’s eyebrow rose. “Can’t we eat pizza with our fingers?”
Logan gestured to a bag. “I also got their deluxe Greek salad. The tangy dressing is a great contrast to the pizza. I hope you like it—they use a variety of vegetables, along with olives, feta cheese and pickled peppers.”
He’d seen Jessica’s pleasure when she was eating her salad at the restaurant, so he’d ordered a dish he hoped she would enjoy just as much. It had nothing to do with sweetening their business negotiations, though he couldn’t have proved his intentions.
“Sounds good.”
“Have you seen anything of the agency?” he asked as they served themselves.
“Not much. I was here often as a kid, but it’s quite different now.”
“I’ll give you a tour later. We’re proud of the renovations. We moved walls and some of the plumbing, updated the decor, and made sure the wiring supports twenty-first century technology.” Logan decided not to mention their design mistake, which had resulted in two of the offices being much too small. It made no difference, because ultimately they still needed additional space.
It wasn’t a relaxing meal. Jessica asked perceptive questions about details he hadn’t considered, including whether they’d move her safe and reinstall it in a new location. Since he was authorized to make the decision without consulting his partners, he reassured her that they’d cover any cost incurred to get the Crystal Connection up and running at full speed, with no downtime.
Curiously, he wasn’t worried she’d start making unreasonable demands.
“By the way,” Jessica said, “I phoned Grams before coming over and she says Uncle Kevin flew into Seattle this afternoon.”
“Oh?” Logan had a feeling he’d be getting a visit from Kevin McClaskey in the near future. It promised to be another difficult conversation.
“Yes. I’m glad to have him home. She invited him to dinner and they were getting ready to play Scrabble. That’s Cyndi’s doing. She loves games, but most of them aren’t as much fun with just the two of us. Did your family play board games when you were a kid?”
“My folks used to say politics and international relations are such high-stakes games that they didn’t have energy for anything else.”
“Wow.” Once again Jessica’s expression suggested she was holding something back.
“What are you thinking?”
“That you must have had an even more unusual upbringing than I’d realized.”
Logan leaned back in his chair, gazing at a picture he’d taken of the Sydney Opera House.
“There were challenges,” he admitted. “It might have been even stranger if Mom or Dad had been appointed as ambassadors, instead of being part of the diplomatic service. Even so, I was continually warned to mind my manners and never say anything about our host nation that might be construed as negative.”
“So you didn’t dare dis the country, even in jest.”
He gave a mock shudder. “Absolutely not. I was routinely warned about the dangers of creating an international incident, especially when I got older and interested in girls.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“If only that was true. My parents took their work very seriously and it put a major dent in my teen social life. That’s probably why I got into photography. Nobody was going to be offended by a kid excited at taking pictures of their country.”
Jessica cocked her head. “So the bio on your calendar is accurate—photography is a lifelong passion.”
“More or less. I usually think of how the world will look in a photograph before anything else.” Logan barely remembered a time when he hadn’t been framing a scene, either in his head or through a camera lens.
Jessica ate a slice of bell pepper that had fallen off the pizza. “Doesn’t the camera put a barrier between you and the nitty-gritty of living? I mean, you’re observing and documenting the world, instead of participating. Of course, it must be easier to deal with people that way. They’re just superficial images, not real human beings with real problems and concerns. But it also means you’re alone.”
“I’m more than an observer,” Logan insisted. But for some reason he looked again at the photo he’d taken of the Sydney Opera House. He’d gotten it at dusk while in Australia doing a fashion shoot for a hot new designer. But as visually stunning as the building might be, he’d never gone inside.
Jessica gathered their plates together and tidied the table. “I wasn’t criticizing. We all experience the world in different ways. What’s the first thing you’d do at the great Colosseum in Rome? Take pictures, right?”
Logan shrugged. “I’ve been there a few times. First I figured out the best angles and then got photographs. What would you do?”
“I’d listen for the ancient echoes of the crowd and the yell of gladiators. Granddad used to say human history is a river so powerful that it even flows through stones.”
Prickles shivered up Logan’s spine. He’d never see the Colosseum again in the same way. Whether that was good or bad he didn’t know.
Jessica stood and smiled at him. “Sorry about the flight of fancy. How about the tour of the agency you promised to give me?”
“Sure.” He got up, as well.
Although he’d accepted a measure of detachment was an innate aspect of his character, it was unsettling to see himself through Jessica’s eyes. He wanted to argue that he had an involved, passionate personality, but he wasn’t sure he’d win the argument...either with her or with himself.
* * *
JESSICA WAS INTERESTED in the changes to Moonlight Ventures, but reminding Logan about the tour also prompted a less personal topic of discussion.
As a rule she tried to understand differing points of view, but that meant she sympathized with her landlords and their wish to expand. Her dad would tell her it was a terrible way to do business unless she could turn it to her advantage by using the opponent’s issues to strengthen her own position. She didn’t agree. Using people was wrong.
However, she needed to be cautious in case Logan tried to do the same thing—influence her emotions by demonstrating their need for more space. It didn’t seem like him, or she hoped it wasn’t, but she still had to be careful.
Two of the offices were relatively large. Nicole’s was located where Uncle Kevin’s had once been, though the dimensions were different and one end of the room was set up for meetings. They’d put serious money into sending a message of classy success. The lobby decor alone must have cost a fortune with its hardwood paneling and plush carpet. Jessica remembered it as a poky area where Aunt Allison had sat at a desk, doing paperwork and greeting clients.
Adam Wilding’s office was down the hall from Nicole’s and was a decent size, too, except it didn’t have a meeting area. Rachel’s was quite a bit smaller, and Logan’s was the tiniest of all. It was hard to imagine an outdoorsy guy being comfortable in such a confined space.
Still, plenty of people worked in small offices or cubicles. Anyway, they were the ones who’d allocated so much square footage to the lobby and front two offices. It even made her wonder if the new owners had expected from th
e beginning to take over the Crystal Connection’s space.
“What do you think?” Logan asked.
Jessica lifted her chin and smiled. “You have a nice setup. But I’ve been wondering about the empty rentals—it would be helpful to know what type of businesses have rented those units and why they aren’t there any longer. I can ask Uncle Kevin, if it would be easier for you.”
Logan’s forehead creased. “The information must be in the files he left. Why is it important?”
“I’m curious. Grams mentioned several businesses had come and gone, with the units largely staying empty. There must be a reason.”
“I’ll check.”
“Great.” She was sure of what he’d find—few businesses could thrive without visibility—but seeing it for himself might impress on Logan the enormity of what he was asking.
They finished the tour in the lounge where they’d eaten.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said, anxious to leave.
Logan held the pizza box out to her. “Please take the leftovers. They’d just sit in my fridge until I got around to tossing them.”
“That’s nice, but leave them for your coworkers.”
He scowled. “You won’t even take a few slices of pizza? Rest assured, it won’t obligate you in any way.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “I’m aware of that. Do you always make such a big deal out of how leftovers are handled?”
* * *
LOGAN COUNTED TO TEN, fighting frustration. Jessica was right; what happened with the pizza wasn’t important. She had her reasons for refusing and it was rude to have pushed so hard. For all he knew, Cyndi was allergic to some of the ingredients.
“I overreacted,” he said. “Sorry.”
Jessica’s face revealed little emotion. “No problem. We aren’t friends, just business associates.”
“Can’t we be friends, too? That’s what I want with all our tenants,” he added.
Skepticism creased her forehead. “Friends in what way?”
Finally, a Family--A Clean Romance Page 10