Family by Design

by Callie Endicott

  He hired her

  ...now he can’t imagine life without her

  Widower Simon Kessler is doing just fine on his own. Or at least he thought so, until he met Rachel Clarion. Rachel instantly connects with his daughter, and her instincts are spot-on when it comes to his wife’s struggling clothing line—a legacy he’s determined to preserve. Can Rachel save the business and, just maybe, his cynical heart?

  Rachel was intrigued.

  “Preserving the business for Livvie was desperately important to my wife. It also connects Livvie to her mother. I have to keep Liv’ing Creations going for my daughter’s sake.”

  It was a motivation that Rachel understood.

  She didn’t know much about Simon, though one of the Carthage residents had mentioned he was a successful businessman. But wanting to save the design house for his daughter—when it would be easier to sell or close the operation down—must mean he had a good heart.

  “I admire your goal,” she said, “but I’m not sure what I could do to help. Are you trying to find models who might turn things around?”

  Simon leaned forward in his chair. “Actually, I realize this isn’t what your agency generally deals with, but I have a special proposal for you...”

  Dear Reader,

  I’m sometimes asked how I come up with characters or book plots. When it comes to the Emerald City Stories, it began with Nicole George, the sister of Emily, who was the heroine of At Wild Rose Cottage, a Harlequin Superromance story. I wondered what Nicole’s life might be like. What if she wanted to stop being a supermodel and try something new? At that point, her friends Adam, Rachel and Logan seemed to stand up and introduce themselves.

  Nicole’s story was told in Moonlight Over Seattle. And I was pleased to continue the series with Adam Wilding in A Father for the Twins. Now it’s Rachel Clarion’s turn. She’s a woman whose beauty seems almost otherworldly to widower Simon Kessler. But underneath it all, he discovers a strong woman who might be the key to not only saving the design business his wife left to their young daughter, but to redesigning a new happy family.

  I always love hearing from readers and can be contacted on my Facebook page at Facebook.com/callie.endicott.author.

  Best wishes,

  Callie

  Family by Design

  Callie Endicott

  As a kid, Callie Endicott had her nose stuck in a book so often it frequently got her in trouble. The trouble hasn’t stopped—she keeps having to buy new bookshelves. Luckily ebooks don’t take up much space. Writing has been another help, since she’s usually on the computer creating stories instead of buying them. Callie loves bringing characters to life and never knows what will prompt an idea. So she still travels, hikes, explores and pursues her other passions, knowing a novel may be just around the corner.

  Books by Callie Endicott

  Harlequin Superromance

  Emerald City Stories

  A Father for the Twins

  Moonlight Over Seattle

  Montana Skies

  The Rancher’s Prospect

  At Wild Rose Cottage

  Kayla’s Cowboy

  That Summer at the Shore

  Until She Met Daniel

  Visit the Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  To Mom

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM THE RANCHER’S HOMECOMING BY ANNA J. STEWART

  PROLOGUE

  RACHEL CLARION STARED at the check she held... It was intended to compensate for the loss of a successful modeling career, but all she wanted to do was tear it into a thousand pieces.

  Weeks ago, her agent, Kevin McClaskey, had made inquiries to see if anyone was interested in hiring her. The answer was no. He’d been given excuses about her being out of the public eye for too long, and that regardless, people might think more about the accident than the product being sold.

  Rachel thought there was more to it.

  She glanced at the check she held, then touched the faint marks on her jaw; she’d come to terms with what had happened, but the insurance company had boiled it down to dollars and cents. The money was supposed to pay for negligence, pain and lost earnings. But what could compensate for a year and a half of surgeries, self-doubt and the endless gossip and speculation of the paparazzi and mainstream press?

  The slip of paper drifted to the floor.

  All right, she was still trying to come to terms with what had happened. It shouldn’t be this difficult—her modeling career hadn’t been a childhood dream. She’d become a model by chance when she was fourteen. Her parents were down-to-earth people who ran a popular catering company. One day she’d been helping them cater a spring clothing photo shoot in Seattle, Washington, and the next day she was in front of the camera because one of the models had come down with the flu.

  The doorbell rang and Rachel hurried to answer it, finding her close friend Nicole George had arrived early for the evening gathering.

  “Hey, Nicole.”

  Nicole looked at her closely. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing, really.” Rachel closed the door and retrieved the check from the floor. Managed right, the settlement would ensure she’d stay financially independent. “I got the money today. It’s making me think about stuff.”

  She put the check away and settled on the couch with Nicole at the other end. Soon they’d be joined by Logan Kensington and Adam Wilding. Adam and Nicole were two of the hottest supermodels in the business, and Logan was a photographer whose services were always in demand. Rachel couldn’t help wondering if it would make a difference to their friendship now that she was no longer modeling herself.

  She chided herself for even thinking the question. Her friends weren’t shallow, even if her ex-husband might be. Rachel wasn’t sure about Hayden any longer. It felt as if he’d left because of her scars, yet he’d stuck around for several months after the accident. Ultimately the endless round of doctors and surgeries and meetings with lawyers had chipped away at their marriage until they’d both questioned what was left.

  It was also possible that since Hayden was regarded as one of the best-looking men in the business, he couldn’t handle being married to a woman who was now pitied and facing the end of her career. Still, they’d had a myriad of problems, so her appearance could only be part of why he’d left.

  “Earth to Rachel,” Nicole intoned.

  “Sorry.”

  Nicole’s eyes were sympathetic. “I can only imagine what that check represents to you. Some people would be dancing in triumph, but life isn’t just about money.”

  “Yeah. It’s like a final judgment saying my career is over, my marriage is finished and money is the only thing left.” Rachel made a face. “Sorry, I hate it when I whine.”

  “Whine all you like. You deserve it.”

&nbs
p; “But feeling sorry for yourself doesn’t help.”

  “True,” Nicole acknowledged, “it just keeps you stuck in the same place.”

  “And that isn’t good enough, so I’ll have to build a new life and look forward to the process.”

  “You can do it. You’re one of the smartest and bravest people I’ve ever known.”

  Rachel grinned. “You’re just saying that because I’m feeding you dinner.”

  “You got me. I’m a sucker for your chicken lo mein.”

  The doorbell rang again and Rachel let Adam and Logan into the apartment.

  “Hi, guys,” Nicole greeted them. They fetched bottles of mineral water from the fridge and relaxed in the comfortable chairs across from the couch.

  Furniture was another thing Rachel and Hayden had disagreed about; he’d wanted everything modern and fashionable, while she’d preferred comfort. Compromise wasn’t in his lexicon. She’d let him have every piece of furniture in the divorce, and then purchased what she’d wanted in the first place.

  “Before I finish making dinner, I have to decide what to do with my life,” Rachel said. “Any ideas?”

  “Wow, a new life plan in the next twenty minutes,” Adam marveled. “Is this the latest Olympic event?”

  Rachel laughed, feeling more normal. The four of them had known each other for years and no one could have been more faithful visiting her at the hospital and then at home, phoning and using Skype when they were out of town on jobs. Maybe friendship was better than romance. It certainly seemed more reliable.

  “I thought you had two operations to go before making a decision,” Logan said.

  “The benefits would be marginal at best, so I told the surgeon that enough is enough. Besides, Kevin made inquiries and nobody wants to hire me. They say it’s been too long and there was too much press about the accident—that my injuries are all consumers will think about. If they even remember me.”

  Adam scowled. “Advertisers are remarkably shortsighted. But I’m glad you’ve decided not to have more surgery. We’ve hated seeing how much it drags you down.”

  Rachel squared her shoulders. “Well, now I can rebuild myself and move on.”

  “What about buying into your parents’ business in the Seattle area? You’re a great cook.”

  She shook her head. “That isn’t the answer. For one, my little sister hopes to eventually take over Clarion Catering, and my being there would be a complication. Not to mention it would be like going back to childhood.”

  Nicole shuddered. “What an awful thought.”

  Both Logan and Adam groaned in a chorus of agreement.

  Ironically, of the four of them, Rachel had experienced the most normal life growing up, but she still didn’t want to go backward. Anyhow, each time her parents visited, they wanted to coddle and protect her...and deny the reality of what a huge, ancient lighting boom could do to the human body if it wasn’t properly secured. She loved them, but she needed to reclaim her life. It was what her trauma counselor kept saying, but that didn’t make it less true.

  Logan leaned forward. “Is there anything you’re especially interested in doing?”

  “Not really. I’ve enjoyed the travel connected to modeling, but I can’t see becoming a flight attendant.”

  “How about doing makeup for photo shoots?” he suggested. “You’ve helped out several times when the professional artist couldn’t get the look I wanted. And there was that one shoot where the entire makeup staff got food poisoning from sushi and you did it for everybody.”

  Makeup artist was an interesting idea. She had the insurance payout, so she didn’t have to worry if the work wasn’t regular. And she’d be in the same field as her friends.

  “Would it be hard to work in a setting similar to where the accident happened?” Nicole asked, looking concerned.

  “Maybe, but I’m getting counseling for post-traumatic stress and I doubt that running away is the answer.”

  Rachel almost felt guilty for talking about PTSD. After all, she’d been posing for a picture when something heavy fell on her, not saving lives like the two firefighters she’d met in the hospital. They ran into burning buildings when everyone else was running out of them. But when she’d tried dismissing her own experience, they’d said to stop, that trauma was trauma, no matter what had caused it.

  Rachel struggled to smile. Right now she needed to concentrate on getting through each day, one step at a time.

  “What do you know?” she announced in a determinedly cheerful voice. “You’ve managed to help me plan a new life in less than ten minutes. I’m impressed.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Eight years later

  RACHEL ATE BREAKFAST on the balcony of her new condo overlooking Lake Washington, relishing the crisp, cool air of early fall. The view was partly why she’d bought this place. At night, the sparkle of electric lights ringed the dark lake, and in the daytime the vista was ever changing, depending on the weather and which boats were out.

  It was funny... She’d grown up in a small town near Seattle and had resisted returning after the accident, yet here she was, less than thirty miles from where her parents lived. Maybe Washington would always be home, or maybe she was just happy that the goal she and her friends had set three years earlier—buying a talent agency—had finally been reached.

  Actually, they’d owned Moonlight Ventures for a year, but Nicole had run it alone at first, and then Adam had joined her. Now Rachel was here, and Logan would be joining them soon, as well. Becoming a talent agent was a challenge, the same as when Rachel had built her reputation as a model, and then as a makeup artist.

  She decided to go for a walk and automatically checked her appearance in a mirror by the front door. It was Saturday and she didn’t have any appointments, but makeup was a habit that made her more confident. She kept it as light as possible, using the barest amount necessary to cover the lingering scars from her old injuries.

  Rather than taking the elevator, she ran down the stairs. Since her accident and being bandaged like a mummy so often after surgeries, she’d become slightly claustrophobic.

  “Hi,” said a childish voice as Rachel walked through the building lobby. A little girl gazed up at her. She was cute as could be, with brown eyes, reddish hair and an inquisitive expression.

  “Hello. Who are you?”

  “My name is Livvie. I’m seven.”

  “I’m Rachel. Do you live in the Carthage?” The Carthage was the name of the building, supposedly chosen to evoke images of strength and engineering excellence.

  The youngster vigorously bobbed her head. “We used to live in Seattle before Daddy went to work in New York, but I asked if we could come back because this is the place I like best. It’s...” She chewed on her lip. “It’s where I remember Mama best.”

  Livvie seemed remarkably articulate and self-possessed for a child her age, though Rachel was hardly an expert on kids. “It was nice of your daddy to do that.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Ready for our walk, Livvie?” a young woman asked, coming up to them. She looked at Rachel. “Hello, I’m Gemma.”

  “Gemma is my nanny, ’cept I’m too old for a nanny, so she just takes care of me,” Livvie volunteered.

  “Hi, Gemma. I’m Rachel Clarion. I live on the second floor.” Rachel deliberately provided the information, figuring a nanny worth her salt would want to know exactly who had been talking with her charge.

  “Daddy’s girlfriend was awful mad when we moved home,” Livvie said blithely, “but Gemma was happy because she grew up here and wants to go back to college.”

  “Sweetie, you shouldn’t talk about your father that way to a stranger,” Gemma cautioned. She had a clear, melodic voice that probably appealed to a child.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it... It’s because some things a
re private.”

  “Everybody knows. I heard Daddy say on the phone that Sandra whined to the newspaper people about us leaving.”

  Rachel suspected that explaining privacy to a seven-year-old was like trying to bail water with a sieve. It would be even harder if Livvie’s father was well-known. As for his “whined to the newspaper” comment? The word evoked an image of a man who was impatient with women, maybe even scornful of them.

  “Gemma, how long have you been a nanny?” she asked as a distraction.

  “Since Livvie was a baby. When did you move to the Carthage?”

  “A few weeks ago. I grew up in Washington, but lived in Los Angeles for a number of years. It’s nice to be back.”

  “I know how you feel.”

  Livvie tugged on Rachel’s arm. “Do you want to go with us? I’m putting my new boat in the water. It has a motor and everything!”

  As Livvie held up the toy, there was a vibration under their feet. Someone across the lobby called, “Earthquake,” and Gemma let out a gasp.

  “I’m sure we’re okay,” Rachel said quickly, “but let’s get over by that column.” She knew that the Carthage had been reinforced to withstand earthquakes and the central columns were part of the structural support.

  “May-maybe we should go outside,” Gemma protested.

  “The column,” Rachel repeated firmly, shepherding the other woman and Livvie close to the column. The possibility of flowerpots falling from the balconies above bothered her more than any chance the ceiling might come down in such a minor quake.

  In less than ten seconds the shaking stopped. Her face ashen, Gemma had pulled Livvie close.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Rachel assured quietly. “We’re fine. That probably wasn’t even a 3.0.”

  “I know. It’s just that when I was a kid I fell down a flight of stairs during the Nisqually quake and broke my leg.”

  “That was a strong one.” Rachel remembered the Nisqually quake—it was hard not to remember being in such a powerful earthquake. “But this one mostly felt like a great big truck driving by, making the ground rumble a little. Right, Livvie?” she asked in an encouraging tone.