by Lori Ryan
Haddie swiveled his way. “No, but I don’t know if she would have confided in me. We were friends, but she was closest to Beverly. And, of course, Elliot.”
Shane knew Ashley was looking at him funny, probably wondering why he was so interested. He’d have to explain it to her after they left. “Did you know she was having some symptoms of dementia?”
Haddie’s eyes went round. “No, she didn’t tell me. And I never saw anything that made me think she might.” She looked back at Ashley. “Poor Elliot has been beside himself. He’s still not back at work. A few of us went by to visit him and I don’t think he’s even getting himself up and dressed every day. Beverly said she would go by and check on him and see if she could get him back out into the world.”
Haddie took a deep breath as though ridding herself of the depressing conversation, and turned bright eyes to Ashley. “Now, tell me what you’re doing here on your break. I thought we talked about you not spending all your time with old biddies.”
Ashley laughed. “Hey, I happen to like old biddies. Besides, you know as well as anyone, I spend plenty of time with young biddies, too.”
Shane knew she meant the circle of Cora, Laura, Katelyn, and now he supposed Phoebe as well.
“But I really came by to see if you needed me to get you anything at the store. I’m going to run over this afternoon and I can drop things off at your house if you’d like.”
“Oh, you’re a dear.” Haddie patted Ashley’s hand, but looked over at Shane. “This is really her way of trying to control my blood sugar better. She doesn’t trust me to do it on my own.”
“Not true.” Ashley was laughing as she said it.
“In that case, get me some real ice cream and some real cookies.”
The two women said the next line together: “not the kind with that damned fake sugar.”
Ashley sighed and shook her head at Haddie. “Maybe a little.”
Ashley and Shane walked out, greeted by the sun and heat of the ninety-eight-degree day. Shane could see why so many of the town’s elderly spent time at the center. Not only was it a chance to socialize and keep active, it had central air and rows of ceiling fans to keep the air moving. If he had to guess, he’d bet many of the people who spent their days there couldn’t afford to cool their houses to that level in the Texas heat.
“Okay, do you want to tell me what’s going on or are we going to play more games?” Ashley was giving him the kind of look that said she didn’t plan to play anymore.
Shane pulled her along toward the back parking lot of the library where he knew she would be parked. “Drive me back to the office and I’ll fill you in on the way.” This wasn’t a conversation he wanted anyone overhearing.
They slid into her car and she started it up. “Beverly came to see me. She’s not convinced Fiona committed suicide.”
Ashley’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t comment.
“I’m not sure one way or the other, but what she said made a lot of sense. Fiona was planning vacations and things. I knew she was having some dementia issues but when Bev really made me sit down and think about it, I realized she was concerned about the symptoms, but not depressed. Plus, she hadn’t been to see Dr. Allen yet, so she didn’t know for sure what was going on.”
“Please tell me you talked to Garret about this.”
“I did.” Shane nodded. “He’s going to look into it, and I trust him.” She raised a brow at this. “I do. But, it’s been eating at me. I wanted to talk to people a little, see what Fiona had been doing. Maybe just hear for myself what other people thought without spreading it around town.”
Ashley nodded. He didn’t need to ask her not to tell people. He knew she wouldn’t. If anything, Ashley Hensley was too good at keeping secrets. She’d kept some heavy secrets about her own life for a long time.
“I didn’t know Fiona well, but I did see her when I went to pick Haddie up at the center.” No one in town ever questioned why Ashley and Haddie were so close. The two women were so alike, it was almost comical. They might not be related, but Ashley cared for Haddie as someone might care for a grandparent. “She didn’t strike me as someone who was depressed, but when I heard about her suicide, I just thought there must have been something going on we didn’t know about. Something medical or whatever that the town hadn’t heard about. Or maybe something with her and Elliot.”
She pulled the car up in front of the law office but Shane didn’t move to get out. “He’s wrecked. I need to go by and check on him, but Bev said he’s holed up in the house and isn’t handling things well at all.”
“I don’t blame him.” Ashley shook her head and he could see her staving off emotion. “I think I’d be in bed for months if anything…”
She didn’t finish but Shane understood. His eyes moved to the law office window. He couldn’t see her but Phoebe was in there. What he felt for Phoebe couldn’t begin to compare to what Garret and Ashley had, but he wanted what they had. Wanted that connection, the love, the family. That sense of being complete because you found the one person you were meant to be with. Phoebe was the first woman in a long time who’d made him feel like that might be possible.
Ashley didn’t miss a beat. “You’re taking her someplace nice, I hope?”
Shane turned and grinned. “I’m not reviewing a detailed plan of my date with you, Ash.”
“You should.” Her smirk was one of the reasons he liked hanging out with her. She was never afraid to speak her mind. “I know what I’m doing. I’m an expert, remember?”
Shane tipped back his head and laughed. Ashley’s sister had revealed Ashley’s secret identity as a romance novelist, spilling her pen name to all of Evers, last year. Ashley, it turned out, had been writing romantic suspense novels under a pen name for a year or two, and doing it quite well, it turned out. She’d hit several of the bestseller lists and had a real following.
Shane reached for the door handle. “Noted. If I run into trouble, I’ll give you a call.”
She shrugged. “You should.”
Shane gave her one more smiling shake of his head—an action that happened a lot around this particular friend—and headed into the office. He hadn’t gotten much more information than he’d had on Fiona when he left, but from what he’d heard, he was glad Beverly had come to him. He felt better knowing Garret was going to be looking more closely at Fiona’s death. If nothing else, maybe it would bring them all some much-needed closure.
24
If I could give one thing to my family and my friends, it would be that they love themselves. That they know that they are always enough.
Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
Phoebe should have asked for three hours between work and their date. She hadn’t been this nervous for a date in a long time. A lot of her relationships had just formed as she hung out with groups of her friends. There hadn’t always been a formal start to them like this. How sad was that for a twenty-nine-year-old?
She looked down at the clothes strewn over her bed and the chair in the corner of her room. How cliché was that? She had no idea what to wear.
She tugged at the dress she had on. It was a casual sundress that could work for a pizza place or something a little fancier. She doubted Shane planned to take her someplace that would require something super dressed up. Just in case, she slid off the sandals she wore and put on a pair that had sparkly gemstones edging the straps. With this addition, the dress could work for anywhere.
There, she thought, with a nod in the mirror. Unless it was too short. She spun to look at the dress from the back. It fell to mid-thigh. It definitely wasn’t prudish, but she wasn’t entirely sure if it went too far in the other direction. Had she hit hussy-ville?
She pulled up Facetime and dialed Chelsea.
“Hey girl, what’s up?” Chelsea didn’t seem to think it was odd for Phoebe to Facetime her.
“I need help.” Phoebe turned her back to the mirror and held her phone up high, hoping Chelsea could see the ba
ck of her dress in the mirror.
“Hot.” Chelsea’s answer was immediate. “Oh! You have a date, don’t you? Who is it?”
Phoebe didn’t reply. “So, it’s not too trashy? I feel like it’s a little short.”
Chelsea made a dismissive sound. “No. It’s not. It’s got tiny baby blue flowers all over it. How could that be trashy? You’d need to lose another two inches to hit trash level. Now, tell me who is the date with? Have I met him?”
Phoebe brought the phone back down to her face and talked as she ran into the bathroom for one more check of her hair and makeup. She wasn’t looking forward to this part of the conversation.
“It’s Shane.”
“Your boss, Shane? That Shane?”
Phoebe sighed. “That Shane. I’m sorry, Chelsea, I know you don’t think it’s a good idea, but, well…I just feel like I need to see where it’s going to go. If I end up with my heart crushed and out of a job, so be it.”
“Pheebs,” Chelsea’s sigh was probably heavier than it needed to be. She always did love her drama, but Phoebe didn’t really want that drama aimed at her. “I just don’t want to see you go down this path again.”
Phoebe took a breath and glanced at the clock. Two minutes to seven. “Listen, I know you mean well, Chelsea, but I’m not really sure I’ve been down this road before. I know you think you see a pattern here, and maybe you’re right. I did date some guys in the past who were lame and headed nowhere, and yes, I should have been able to see they weren’t headed in the same direction as me. This is different. Shane isn’t like them.”
Chelsea looked a bit taken aback that Phoebe might argue with her, but she was going to need to get over that. Phoebe wasn’t going to live her life based on what her friend said she should do. Friends should give input and advice and comfort, but they should also be willing to stand by you if you didn’t take that advice or follow every plan they came up with for your life. Shouldn’t they?
“Okay, then. Well, have a good time on your date.”
The call disconnected and Phoebe stared at the phone for a minute, feeling both annoyed and dismayed. She didn’t want to fight with Chelsea. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to see where this might go with Shane.
She looked down at the hem of her skirt again, debating another change when she heard a knock on the door. Looked like this dress was going to have to do.
Phoebe pulled open the door to her apartment and froze.
Shane had apparently gone home, too.
Her breath seemed to be stuck in her chest as she looked at him. His hair was still a little damp from his shower and it was all Phoebe could do not to choke as unbidden images of him standing under a sluice of hot water flooded her brain. He wore a casual Henley shirt and jeans.
Correction. They should have been casual. On him, they were anything but. The navy fabric of the shirt stretched over muscles she wanted to rub up against, and the jeans. Well, the jeans just plain made her mouth water.
“Wow, Phoebe.” He seemed to breathe the words, and Phoebe peeled her eyes from his muscles to smile at him.
“Right back atchya, lawyerman.”
He rewarded her with one of those laughs she’d begun to crave. The one where he tipped his head back and laughed fully, easily. He could be so serious behind his desk at work. She liked seeing him this way.
He reached for her hand. “Ready?”
Phoebe nodded and pulled the door shut behind her. It was really all she could do. The minute his large hand had taken hold of hers, she’d all but melted into a puddle on the floor. It felt so good to walk with him down the steps to his waiting car.
Shane looked back up toward her apartment. “You really lucked out with this apartment. I think Mrs. Sassan’s son was living up here for four or five years. You happened to move to town right when she decided he needed to grow up.”
“Oh, I know.” Phoebe smiled as he opened the door for her and she slid into the leather seat of the Jaguar. A giggle escaped her as she thought again that she was really happy with her choice of his car. Luckily for her, Shane missed it as he jogged to his side of the car and slid in. “Mrs. Sassan treated me to the whole story about her good-for-nothing lazy offspring, as she calls him. By the end of it, I didn’t know whether to pity Matt or dislike him. He can’t really be as bad as she says he is, can he?”
“Oh, he is. He’s basically lived off of her since we all graduated years ago. He bartends, but spends most of the money he earns on toys and stuff. Old cars that used to fill her driveway. He really needed to be kicked out. He needs to grow up.”
“You sound so stern,” she said, looking at his profile as he drove.
Shane laughed. “Do you mean I sound like a stick-in-the-mud? That’s what my brother is always telling me.”
Phoebe shrugged her shoulder. “You seem like someone who knows what they want in life. And like someone who doesn’t want to let other people down or be a burden to people.”
“Responsible,” Shane said, and now he didn’t look overly comfortable with the label.
Phoebe studied him a bit longer. “Yes,” she said slowly. “But you’re also fun and kind.”
He shot her an oh-thanks-for-the-compliments kind of look and she lowered her tone. “And sexy as hell. There’s something to be said about wanting to get you to unbutton your shirt or loosen your tie. Trust me, the buttoned-up look isn’t a bad one on you.”
The car swerved a hair before Shane corrected, shooting her a glance. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
Phoebe laughed. “I’m really not.” She was a little surprised at how up front and bold she was being, but he seemed to bring it out in her. She didn’t feel uncomfortable telling him what he did to her. “You make me itch to make you lose control. It’s a good thing. Trust me.”
Shane was silent for a minute but she could feel him glancing at her as he drove.
She turned in her seat and met his gaze full on. “Focus on the road, Shane,” she said her voice soft and seductive, loving the look that lit his eyes when she did.
“Christ, you’ll be the death of me, woman.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Maybe back to my place if you keep this up.”
Now it was Phoebe’s turn to laugh that full, real laugh. “On a first date, Shane?”
He shook his head at her. “No, not on a first date.” There was promise in those words and she felt that promise right through to her toes. “If you don’t mind a bit of a drive, I’m taking you to August E’s out in Fredericksburg. They have an amazing view and we should make it in time for sunset.”
Their conversation on the road was light and easy, but Phoebe felt the thrum of excitement deep in her belly that came from a new relationship. The nice thing with Shane, though, was that she didn’t feel overly nervous with him the way she sometimes had with other men. He had this way of setting her at ease and exciting her all at once.
Shane took her hand in his as they walked toward the restaurant. The interior was modern and sleek, but when they were led to the back deck, the atmosphere was more rustic and casual. And Shane had been right, the view was beautiful as the sun began to set in the sky.
It was the kind of restaurant where several wait staff approached. One bringing bread and another offering sparkling or still water. One more approached to tell them the specials and take their drink order.
When their orders had been placed and they were alone, Shane sat back in his chair. “So, tell me about the General.”
Phoebe laughed. “I don’t usually tell my friends about him. I mean, of course, growing up on military bases, everyone knew who my dad was, but once I moved out on my own, it was a detail I kept to myself.”
Shane sipped his water. “It can be a little intimidating, I’d imagine.”
“Ya think?” Phoebe laughed. She knew her dad was intimidating. “Wait until you meet him. He’s larger than life and loves to do that thing where he just stares people down wai
ting for them to talk, even if the only question on the table is what they had for breakfast.”
“That must have made dating fun.”
She rolled her eyes. “You have no idea. No one wanted to touch me with a ten-foot pole when I was in high school.”
Shane grinned at her. “Something tells me you had dates whether your dad approved or not. Something also tells me his staring trick doesn’t work on you.”
Phoebe pointed at him. “So true. Not the date thing, although I guess I did, but the staring trick. Much to his dismay, I learned to sit still and wait him out by the time I was twelve or thirteen. We’d have these epic staring contests.” She scrunched up her nose. “No, they were more like battles. Epic staring battles.”
“Who’d win in the end?”
“Neither. My dad is also maddeningly adept at negotiating truces. He’d come in my room and talk me out of whatever pout I was in and we’d come to some compromise. He was good at making me feel like I’d gotten something out of him, even though he always won the war.” She smiled with the memories. “He’s a great dad. Of course, if you ask him, he’d say he spoiled me rotten.”
They paused for a minute while their salads were served and Phoebe took a bite of pear with gorgonzola cheese.
“Do you see your mom at all?” Shane asked.
Phoebe finished her bite and swallowed, not without some effort. Any talk of her dad always led to talk of her mom, and that was the part of the conversation she hated. Her mother had left her when she was only weeks old. During her kinder, gentler moments, Phoebe had wondered if postpartum depression might have played a part in her mother’s decision. But the more she knew about her mom, the less likely that seemed.
“They were an odd match right from the start. My dad kept a little box of things from my mom for me to look through when I was older. She was all lovey-dovey hippie child, hence my name.”