The Girls of Mischief Bay

by Susan Mallery

  “I was involved,” Pam admitted. “But that was a long time ago.”

  “You’re smart, capable and you have good instincts,” Violet added.

  Pam shook her head. “No offense, but you’ve just

  met me.”

  Violet’s smile returned. “We’ve done our research. We’ve asked around. We talked to several people who know you, including Steven.”

  “He never said anything. Neither did John.”

  “We didn’t tell John,” Bea admitted. “He adores you. He couldn’t possibly be expected to keep a secret. Your son is very impressed with you, by the way. He thinks you’d be terrific.”

  Pam couldn’t take it all in. “I’m really not qualified,” she repeated.

  “Some of what we do falls outside of the sphere of traditional business,” Violet explained. “We offer counseling on whatever topic the women need most. You have led an extraordinarily successful life, Pam. You bring a wealth of knowledge. Don’t worry that you are unfamiliar with the specifics like writing a business plan. We have a team that helps with that. Your job would be to be the point of contact. To find out what the women really need, then deliver the resources.”

  Violet glanced at Bea, who nodded, then back at Pam. “The work is unpaid, in the traditional sense. We don’t take a salary. We do have the satisfaction of what we accomplish, of course. For some people, that’s not enough. We’re also asking that you contribute to the angel fund. So far all our loans have been paid back. We want to be able to do more. If you’re interested in joining us, we’d ask you to put in what we did.”

  “How much was that?” she asked.

  “Fifty thousand dollars.”

  Pam felt her mouth drop open. “Fifty thousand dollars?”

  “You could do it over time,” Bea said. “We understand there are implications when taking that much out of your investments. So ten thousand a month for five months would be fine.”

  Pam’s breath caught in her chest. “How generous,” she murmured. They expected her to give fifty thousand dollars, work with businesses and not get paid? Seriously?

  “Think about it,” Bea urged. “At least for a little while. Talk it over with John. We’re making a difference, Pam. We’re helping the next generation of women entrepreneurs. We could do so much more with you on board. We’d like to have both of you come down to the office and meet some of the women we’ve worked with. Hear their stories. It’s an amazing opportunity.”

  She nodded because speaking was impossible. But in her head, she knew she was going to refuse them. What a ridiculous idea. And amount. She and John were comfortable, but that kind of money! It was impossible to consider. Ridiculous.

  She would do what they’d requested. She would think about it and then she would tell them there was no way on this planet she would ever agree to do such a thing.

  * * *

  The Lewis family lived in a big house not too far from Pam’s. It was two stories and sprawling. Of course, there had been five kids living there at one time, Shannon thought as Adam pulled into the driveway. Now his parents lived there alone.

  On the drive from her condo, Adam had explained some things about his family. How there were lots of grandchildren and that his parents complained the house was too big for just the two of them, but never could find a place where they wanted to move. All really good information that would have made sense if she wasn’t so nervous.

  She couldn’t remember the last time a guy had taken her home to meet his family. High school, maybe. Certainly not since college. Except for one of her brief engagements, and that had only been one or two very awkward meetings. It wasn’t the kind of thing she usually had to face.

  She’d spent more time worrying about what to wear for this family Easter dinner than any other event in the past two years. A dress, she’d thought. Nothing too sexy, but she also didn’t want to look frumpy.

  She’d settled on a sleeveless faux wrap dress in mint green. The front wasn’t too low and the hem was only a couple of inches above her knee. She’d added nude colored pumps and a simple straw bag.

  Adam parked the car, then turned toward her and took her hand in his.

  “It’s okay,” he told her.

  “What?”

  “You’re nervous. I get it. My family is big and loud and sometimes I have trouble dealing with them.”

  “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you need a different strategy.”

  He smiled, then moved toward her and lightly kissed her. “I think you’re amazing, Shannon. Just for this conversation we’ll ignore how beautiful you are and how you blow me away every time you walk into a room.”

  She stared into his brown eyes and smiled. “Oh, I don’t know. I think we could talk about that for a little while.”

  “And we will. But right now I want you know how proud I am to be with you. Not just for how you look, but for how you are.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I know this isn’t the best timing, but I want you to know that I love you.”

  Her eyes widened and her mouth went dry. Those words. Some men spoke them lightly, but not Adam. He would only say them if he meant them.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered, feeling desperately shy and totally elated at the same moment.

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded.

  His mouth curved into a huge smile. “Wow. That’s so great. And you’re hot, too.”

  She started to laugh.

  He kissed her, gently at first, then lingeringly. She relaxed into his embrace, only to have the moment interrupted by a car honking. Behind them, a door slammed.

  “Get a room,” a low male voice called.

  Adam drew back. “My brother,” he said. “You braced?”

  “I am now.”

  Because he loved her. She held the most delicious secret in her hands. One she would hold close and take out when she needed.

  He got out of the car and walked around to her side, then opened the door. She stepped out into the sunny afternoon. From the backseat he pulled a couple of bottles of wine and the brownies she’d made that morning. They were still warm.

  She might not be a whiz in the kitchen, but years ago she’d decided she needed a go-to dish she could take anywhere. She’d chosen brownies and had spent the better part of two months finding the perfect recipe. Countless attempts and five pounds later, she had found one that worked for her.

  They walked in the house. The large foyer was two stories tall, with plenty of light. From there she could see into a formal living room that was empty, and the big dining room set for dinner.

  Loud conversation and music and what sounded like a baseball game drifted in from various parts of the house. The scent of ham mingled with the sweetness of lilies.

  “Kitchen first,” he told her. “Once you meet Mom, you’ll relax.”

  She wanted to say she already was, only the “I love you” charm didn’t seem to be working as well as she would have hoped. The nerves returned and with it the hope she would measure up.

  Adam led the way to a big, open kitchen. The cabinets were white, the accent colors blue and green. There was a massive island and a six-burner stove. But she focused on all the people milling around.

  Mostly women, she thought, spotting the sixtysomething woman who must be his mother. There were also a few other women who were younger, a couple of kids and one brother or brother-in-law.

  “Adam!” The older woman smiled when she s
potted her son. “You’re here.” She crossed to him and cupped his face in her hands. “You look good.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Mom, this is Shannon. Shannon, my mother, Marie.”

  Marie was of average height. Attractive and trim. Shannon saw he got his eyes and his smile from her. As her hair was blond, he must have inherited his coloring from his father.

  Marie turned to her. “So nice to meet you, Shannon. Thank you for joining us today. The whole family is here, so you’re going to see us all at once. Don’t worry about remembering names. I’m the important one to get to know.”

  Everyone laughed. Shannon felt herself relaxing.

  “Thank you for inviting me,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “She made brownies,” Adam told his mother.

  Marie raised her eyebrows. “Did you? Impressive. Tabitha never baked.”

  “Mom.” His voice held a warning tone. “Don’t start.”

  “Me? I didn’t say a word.” Marie linked arms with Shannon and drew her close. “She cheated. Did he tell you that? A woman with two babies at home. If you’re unhappy, get a divorce or take a hammer to his car. But don’t cheat. It’s so tacky.”

  Adam flushed. “Mom, I’m begging you. Stop.”

  Shannon held in a smile.

  “I’m just being friendly, that’s all. Can I help it if Tabitha didn’t bake? It’s not like I told her she couldn’t. Not that she ever would have listened to me. All right, who haven’t you met?”

  The next ten minutes passed in a whirlwind of names and faces. Marie kept a firm grip on Shannon’s arm as she led her through the kitchen, then into the stadium-size family room. Shannon shook hands with and smiled at all the adults. She did her best to remember which child went with which sibling.

  Adam appeared at her side. He held a glass of red wine in one hand.

  “Mom, Erin says the ham smells funny.”

  Marie went white. “What? Excuse me. I’m needed in the kitchen.”

  “Is everything okay?” Shannon asked anxiously.

  “Sure. The ham is fine. Erin gave me a way to help you escape.”

  “I don’t need to escape.” She took the wine. “I adore your mother.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. She loves her family and keeps you all in line. I totally respect that.”

  “You do realize one day all that laser attention will be focused on you, right?”

  “I should be so lucky,” she said, wondering what he meant by that comment. Was he hinting at a future together? Something else she could hope for because it seemed to her that belonging to a family like this one would be a very good thing.

  “I was afraid she’d scare you off.”

  “I’m stronger than you think.”

  “All right you two. Break it up.”

  Shannon turned and saw a pretty blonde walking toward them. “Sister,” she said. “Younger and your name is something exotic and beautiful that I can’t remember.”

  “Gabriella,” she said with a laugh. “Everyone calls me Gabby. I am his younger sister.” Gabby smiled at Adam. “I’m going to tell her I’m an immigration attorney. Don’t correct me.”

  “You are an immigration attorney,” Adam pointed out.

  Gabby sighed. “If only. I’m currently the stay-at-home mom of twins. But one day they will be in school and then I’m going back to work. Not that I don’t love my children, but I can’t tell you how I long for adult conversation and time in an office.” She looked at Shannon. “You’re in business, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you know what I mean. You can go into the bathroom by yourself. No one follows you. You get to close the door and everything.”

  Shannon lightly touched Gabby’s arm. “You have my deepest sympathy and yes, you can pee alone when you go back to work. Are you counting the days?”

  “Pretty much.”

  More family members joined the conversation. There was plenty of teasing and laughter. Shannon had the sense that they were a very loving, close-knit family. She liked all the noise, the bustle as people moved around. There were children running everywhere. A contrast to her parents’ quiet, orderly house, she thought. A place where fitting in was the ultimate goal and achieving enough to stand out was frowned upon.

  Adam slipped his arm around her. She relaxed into his embrace. He loved her. He’d told her and Adam wasn’t the kind of man to play with words that powerful. She could trust them, and him.

  Fifteen

  The studio was quiet—a welcome relief, Nicole thought. While she adored all her clients and knew that without them, she would be lost, emotionally and financially, every now and then she just wanted quiet.

  She was tired of fighting, she thought sadly. She was tired of not understanding Eric, of being disappointed by him. She would guess he was equally weary of their lack of connection and her refusal to be as excited by his dream as he was.

  Sometimes she thought that divorce was the only option. She whispered the word in her head and turned it over in her mind. Still, she couldn’t imagine saying it out loud. She and Eric were married.

  But what were the alternatives? Really splitting up? When she considered the logistics, the reality of being a single mom, of possibly having to pay alimony to Eric so he could keep writing his stupid screenplay, she got so angry and so afraid, she couldn’t breathe. The thought of going through that, of tearing apart their lives—it was awful. And worse, truly much, much worse, was what a divorce would do to Tyler. While he wasn’t as close to his dad as she would like, Eric was his father. She couldn’t separate them. Couldn’t force her son to travel from home to home, spending weekends with one and weekdays with the other. How could they make that work?

  She looked at the names on the paper in her hand. Two were for therapists and one was for an attorney. The first two came from Pam and the latter from Shannon. It had been Shannon who had explained the grim reality of community property.

  The house wasn’t an issue. It was in Nicole’s name and she’d never added Eric to the deed. He’d never asked, which only helped her case. Even more important, over the past year or so, she’d been the only one bringing in money. So whatever happened, she would keep her home.

  But the business was more complicated. While it was in her name, they’d bought it with joint assets. So he had a claim there. Shannon had started to explain about business valuation, but Nicole’s eyes had glazed over. She wasn’t ready to know that much. She wasn’t ready to go there.

  Nicole fingered the paper. She knew she had to make a choice, one way or the other. Which was it to be?

  She drew in a breath and picked up her cell phone, then dialed the first number. Therapy, she thought as the call connected. She went right to voice mail, as Pam had told her she would. The psychologist would call her back and set up an appointment.

  Pam had explained how she and John had seen the woman while they were dealing with Brandon’s difficult stage. There had been family counseling, of course, but she and John had wanted to see someone different. Someone who was in it for them and their marriage.

  “Every marriage has its ups and downs,” Pam had told her. “Dealing with Brandon’s drinking and drug use had been so awful. John and I had ended up fighting all the time. Seeing the therapist helped us see that we were taking our fear out on each other instead of using each other for support. She’s great. You’ll love her.�
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  Pam had also provided the name of a male therapist in case Nicole talked Eric into couples counseling. Most guys were more comfortable with a man, she’d said. Wise advice, but then Pam was always ready with the upbeat and practical suggestion.

  Nicole left her name and number and mentioned Pam as the person who referred her, then hung up. She drew in a breath and noticed she wasn’t as tense as she’d been. The knot in her stomach was a little smaller and her breath came easier.

  “Okay,” she whispered to herself. “I made the right choice. Therapy.”

  She had no idea how she was going to pay for it, but that was a problem for later. This was good—she had a direction. She would fix things with Eric. They would be a family.

  A direction chosen and some small amount of faith restored, she turned her attention back to her computer. There were monthly bills to be paid.

  She got out her business checkbook, then went on to her bank’s website and used the bill-pay function. For a small fee they would even produce paychecks for her employees—a real gift. Because payroll for those not blessed with the accounting gene was a nightmare.

  After paying the bills and generating the paychecks, she updated her balance. Talk about a virtuous hour, she thought. She had another hour until her next class. She could go get a coffee or she could stretch and do a miniworkout for herself. That would feel good.

  She rose and started for the mats against the wall. As she walked toward them, someone knocked on her locked front door.

  She changed direction, then slowed when she saw Eric. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d come to the office. The knot returned when she got closer and saw his face.

  He was wide-eyed and flushed. Everything about his body language told her something had happened. Her heart felt as though it actually stopped as she fumbled with the lock.

  “Is it Tyler?” she demanded the second the door was open.

  “What? No. He’s fine. He’s at day care. Why would you think something was wrong with him?”