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Page 14

by Debbie Macomber


  Over the last two months, Robin had come to think of Libby as a close friend. Friend enough that she’d been willing to help Libby find employment. It’d been grossly unfair for Libby to be laid off in the first place. Despite the generous severance package, being unemployed had been hard on Libby in a number of different ways. Her ego had been badly bruised—and after so many months without work, her confidence was wounded, too.

  Robin had sympathized and wanted to help. She saw much of herself in Libby. Both were hardworking, determined, goal-oriented, and focused. Robin couldn’t imagine what she’d do if she were to lose her job. No doubt, like Libby, she’d assume she’d find another one without a problem. But would she?

  Back in her office after the hearing, Robin sat down at her desk and braced her head in her hands. Embarrassing as it was, she felt she needed to connect with Alice Rabe and apologize for bringing Libby to her attention. She’d given Libby a glowing personal recommendation and apparently Roy had as well. By showing up late, Libby had made not only herself look irresponsible, but Robin, too.

  Reluctantly she reached for her phone and was connected with the deputy district attorney in short order.

  “I take it the interview with Elizabeth Morgan didn’t go well.”

  Alice snorted.

  So it’d been that bad.

  “That’s putting it mildly. Your friend,” Alice said with heavy emphasis placed on the word friend, “arrived in jeans.”

  Robin squeezed her eyes closed. Could this get any worse? “Although this isn’t an excuse, I believe she was at the hospital.”

  “I didn’t give her a chance to explain. To her credit she did apologize.”

  Alice could be brusque, but Robin knew her to be fair.

  “Not only did she arrive almost fifteen minutes late but she seemed completely unprepared for the interview, flustered, unfocused, and overly nervous.”

  “Let me assure you that Libby isn’t normally like that.”

  “So you’ve talked to her?”

  “I have,” Robin admitted.

  Alice hesitated. “You said she was at the hospital?”

  Robin regretted mentioning it. “It wasn’t an emergency … she volunteers there.”

  “Oh?” This appeared to interest the deputy district attorney.

  Robin squared her shoulders as she realized she might as well say it. “Libby is generous and caring.”

  “What does she do at the hospital?”

  Robin tucked her arm around her middle. “She rocks the newborns.”

  “That was why she was late?”

  “Apparently they got terribly busy this morning.” Talk about weak excuses.

  “So she didn’t have time to change her clothes?”

  “Apparently not.” She wanted to ask Alice how Libby’s résumé read. Robin had gone over it herself, helped Libby fine-tune it, hoping a fresh pair of eyes would help.

  “It goes without saying that I won’t be hiring your friend.”

  “I understand,” Robin murmured, and then because she felt obligated, she added, “I wanted to call and apologize. I feel terrible that this happened.”

  “It isn’t your fault,” Alice was kind enough to say. “Anyway, I appreciate the call,” she continued, “but I believe I’ve already made my choice.”

  “I understand perfectly.” Robin disconnected the line and then exhaled deeply.

  A couple of days later Robin planned to work late, like she did most nights. It was Friday and she didn’t have a single plan. That said a lot about her life—her job was her life. Seeing what had happened to Libby made Robin decide she was in no frame of mind to remain at the office. Grabbing her briefcase, she headed out of the courthouse. Her pace was hurried, although she didn’t have anyplace special to go or anyone to meet.

  She was heading toward the parking lot when she heard someone call her name. When she turned to see who it might be, she saw Roy … Judge Bollinger. Instantly she felt her pulse accelerate. Her mouth went dry.

  “Robin, my goodness, you move like a speed walker.” He was breathless and his round face appeared flushed.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were behind me.” If she had she would have slowed to a snail’s pace. They hadn’t spoken in several days and she’d despaired that they ever would again.

  “I understand the interviews were held the other day for the position I mentioned. How did your friend do?”

  Robin immediately looked down. “Not well, I’m afraid.” When she glanced up again she found that his eyes had warmed with sympathy.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I am, too.” Thankfully he didn’t know the details, and she wasn’t about to tell him.

  “I know you’ve probably got plans this evening—”

  “I don’t,” she blurted out, interrupting him.

  He smiled briefly. “Would you care to join me? I generally have a glass of wine on Friday evenings. My wife and I …” He hesitated at the mention of his wife.

  “I’d enjoy that very much.” The dear man had no idea how she’d been hoping for such an invitation.

  “There’s a nice bar in the Four Seasons,” he suggested. “Shall I meet you there?”

  “Sure.” He could have suggested they rendezvous on the moon and she would have found a way to get there.

  “Shall we say,” he paused and glanced at his watch. “Thirty minutes?”

  “Perfect.”

  He turned away then, and Robin waited until he was out of sight before she broke into a dance, thrusting her arms into the air and turning around in a complete circle.

  Chapter 17

  Saturday morning, with bright sunshine streaming into her bedroom window, Libby glanced at the digital readout of the clock next to her bed and groaned. Her eyes stung from lack of sleep. Tossing aside the blankets, she crawled out of bed and brewed herself a cup of strong coffee.

  Phillip had called three times. She hadn’t answered her phone or listened to the messages. He was a great guy and she enjoyed his company, but he was a distraction. After her last disastrous job interview, Libby had decided she needed to focus.

  The interview with Alice Rabe kept playing through her mind. It showed like an old-time silent movie, the frames flickering before her. No way around it, she’d blown her best chance at getting a job. After waiting for months for an opportunity like this she’d sabotaged herself. Libby no longer knew who she was. The determined, dedicated attorney or the volunteer who loved babies but couldn’t make it to an interview on time. Libby wondered what her mother would think of her now.

  And she could only imagine the damage she’d done to her relationship with Robin.

  After standing under a cold shower for several minutes, she was awake enough to face the day. With errands to run, she left her condo at eight, determined to finish as quickly as possible and be back before noon. She needed to talk to Phillip, and explain, difficult as it was sure to be, that she couldn’t be involved with him.

  At ten she stopped by the yarn store. Libby hoped Lydia would be able to update her on what had happened since she’d taken Ava to lunch. She hadn’t managed to get through to the young teen, but perhaps Lydia had succeeded where she had failed. The more Libby thought about Ava, the stronger the urge was to take the girl under her wing and help her. She was so young and vulnerable. Libby couldn’t help worrying about what would become of her. Apparently her grandmother was completely oblivious.

  Both Lydia and Casey were at the yarn store when Libby arrived. She hadn’t brought her knitting because she feared that, too, had become a distraction from her job search.

  “Hi, Libby,” Casey called out, exuberantly waving her arm from the back of the shop.

  Already the shop was crowded with customers, and both Lydia and her sister, Margaret, were preoccupied. Libby walked to the back of the room to join Casey.

  “You’re certainly in a good mood,” Libby said when Casey beamed her a huge smile.

  The te
enager patted the chair next to her, welcoming Libby’s company.

  “Mom’s taking me school shopping tomorrow. I’m using the money I earned helping in the shop.”

  Libby sat down next to her. “Have you seen Ava lately?”

  Casey nodded. “Yeah, she was here yesterday.”

  “Did she say anything?”

  Casey set aside her crochet project. “About the talk you had with her?”

  Libby nodded.

  “Not really. How’d it go?” Casey leaned forward, eagerly anticipating the details, it seemed.

  “We did talk a little, but unfortunately not much.”

  “When I asked her about it all she said was that she enjoyed lunch.”

  That was only somewhat encouraging.

  “Did she mention when she’d be visiting the shop again?” Libby could casually drop by at the same time. If she continued to develop the relationship, she might be able to convince Ava to make a doctor’s appointment. She could accompany the young teen and pay for the visit. If Ava was willing, Libby would even offer to go with her when she told her grandmother about the pregnancy. The point was, Ava couldn’t ignore the obvious for much longer. Decisions had to be made, and Libby wanted to be Ava’s advocate, wanted to help her deal with the complexities of her situation. Besides, someone needed to find out if Ava continued to be sexually active and warn her that there could be other consequences.

  The bell chimed as someone either left or entered the shop. Libby didn’t pay much attention until Casey said, “Libby, isn’t that your doctor friend?”

  Libby whirled around. Sure enough, Phillip was inside A Good Yarn, looking about as uncomfortable as a man in a shop full of women could get. His gaze shot straight to her. His eyes narrowed as he made his way to the back of the store.

  Even if it meant winning the Washington State lottery, Libby couldn’t have spoken a word. Her mouth was as dry as a sand dune. She wanted to know what he was doing here. It soon became obvious he’d come looking for her. She groaned inwardly; she wasn’t quite ready to face him.

  “Did you turn your cell phone off?” he asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

  “Ah, I might have.” She knew darn well that she had. Fishing inside her purse, she made a show of looking and then dropping it back inside.

  “I left you several messages,” Phillip told her.

  “I … I wasn’t in the mood to talk.” Maybe he’d take the hint that she wasn’t ready now, either.

  “I tried phoning this morning,” he said, and then noticed Casey. “Hello again,” he added, apparently remembering her from their elevator ride together.

  Casey was all smiles. “Libby, you’re worse than my grandma. She has a cell phone, too, but she always forgets to turn it on.”

  “Where’s your friend?” Phillip asked Casey.

  He was concerned about Ava, too.

  “I asked her to come this morning, but she said her grandmother wouldn’t let her. She has to clean the house.”

  What was it about a handsome man that prompted women to divulge information? Libby had asked about Ava, too, and Casey hadn’t said a word about her grandmother keeping her home for chores.

  Phillip looked back to Libby. “Have you had lunch?”

  Other than her early-morning coffee and a glass of orange juice, Libby hadn’t eaten solid food all day. She wasn’t the least bit hungry, but they needed to talk and the sooner she got this over with the better. “Not yet.”

  “Good.”

  “Have lunch at The French Cafe,” Casey urged. “The food’s fabulous, especially the croissants and the soup. Mom orders the soup almost every day.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Phillip said.

  As if connected to a puppet’s string, Libby automatically stood and followed him out of the store, pausing only long enough to say good-bye to Lydia and Margaret.

  “Have you tried The French Cafe before?” he asked conversationally, placing his hand on the small of Libby’s back as they crossed the street.

  “A time or two. Casey’s right, the food’s great.”

  “Then let’s go there. It’s close and convenient and I’m famished.”

  Once inside the cafe, Phillip ordered a club sandwich, a small side salad, and two large peanut butter cookies. Libby ordered a cup of the ginger-carrot soup.

  “That’s all?” he asked when she completed her order.

  “I … I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  He paid for their food and then they carried their number to one of the empty tables outside the restaurant, where they could eat alfresco.

  Until they sat down at an umbrella-covered table, Libby hadn’t noticed what a glorious day it was. Late July in the Pacific Northwest generally had nice weather. A breeze blew off Elliot Bay, and even though they were several blocks from the waterfront, Libby smelled a hint of salt in the air. The waterfront would be crowded with tourists. Two or three large cruise ships were in port, adding to the bustling activity. A plane flew above them with a banner that advertised a life insurance company.

  “I apologize for not answering your calls, but like I said, I wasn’t in the mood to talk,” she said, keeping her hands in her lap. She avoided eye contact, too.

  Phillip reached for his iced tea and took a deep swallow. Completely relaxed, he leaned against the back of the chair and crossed his long legs. “I wanted to hear about the interview.”

  “I was late … and frankly, it couldn’t have gone much worse. Now Robin is avoiding me … although I doubt that she’s tried to call.” Curious, she reached for her cell and scrolled down the list of recent calls. Robin’s name didn’t appear, but that didn’t surprise Libby. “She’s upset with me, but then I can’t really blame her.”

  “So what happened?”

  “The twins …” She stopped and shook her head. Really, what was the point of trying to explain? Bottom line: she’d gotten sidetracked. Even now Libby couldn’t believe she’d allowed that to happen.

  “I know all about the three sets of twins,” Phillip said. “I want to know what happened at the interview.”

  Just thinking about it made her chest tighten.

  “That bad?”

  “Worse. Time got away from me and I didn’t have any choice but to show up in what I was wearing. After arriving late, I never got my balance back. I was flustered and inarticulate. It was dreadful.” Even telling him embarrassed her tenfold.

  To his credit, he did look sympathetic. “It might be little comfort to you now, but thank you for your help in the nursery. It was like a madhouse. Three sets of twins. Frankly, I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

  Libby managed a weak smile. His appreciation did little to console her. “It should never have happened. This interview was important; this is my livelihood. I don’t know what’s happened to me over these last few months. I hardly know who I am any longer. I missed an important interview because I was rocking babies? That’s insane. I’m spending half my time in a yarn store, knitting? In the meantime I’m going through my savings at an alarming rate. I need a job.”

  “You’ll find one.” How confident he sounded.

  “Not at this rate I won’t. I’ve allowed far too many distractions into my life.” She bounced the side of her hand against the tabletop. “That’s got to end. I have to focus on what’s important and get back on track.”

  “Libby, you’re being too hard on yourself.” He leaned forward and gently squeezed her upper arm. “It isn’t as bad as all that. It was just one interview.”

  She pulled back. Phillip might think he was helping, but he wasn’t. He didn’t know her well enough to realize this irresponsible behavior wasn’t normal for her. Nor did he appreciate how angry she was with herself.

  Their lunch arrived and Phillip immediately reached for his sandwich. It was cut into fourths, each secured with a fancy toothpick with a frilly, colorful cellophane top. Elegant for a cafe, Libby mused.

  She tasted her s
oup and it was delicious. Well, at least her taste buds hadn’t gotten depressed along with everything else. Libby had about as much zip as a slug. Her head throbbed, and she longed to curl into a tight ball and sleep. What she would give to put all of this behind her and simply sleep.

  Phillip had eaten half of his sandwich before he paused. “I didn’t get dinner last night and was starving.” He looked down at his plate and then at Libby’s. “All right, why the glum face now? I get that you messed up, but you need to pick yourself up and move on. Right?”

  If she’d had more sleep and her wits about her she might have been able to sidestep the question. Frankly she didn’t have the energy.

  “I don’t have a lot of friends, and after the stunt I pulled with the botched interview I’m afraid I’ve lost a good one.”

  “Stop beating yourself up.”

  “Don’t you understand?” she cried, losing patience with him. “This was exactly the wake-up call I needed.”

  “What do you mean?” Frowning, he pushed the empty plate aside.

  She exhaled and decided the best way to deal with him was to be straightforward. He was the type of man who appreciated the truth.

  “I think it might be best if we don’t see each other for a while.”

  He stared back at her blankly, as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said.

  “Is that what you want, Libby?” he asked after several moments.

  She didn’t know anymore so she avoided the question. “I’m not the woman I used to be and the woman I’m becoming is frightening me.”

  “What’s that got to do with you and me?”

  “Everything. Don’t you see? I can’t be seeing you … A relationship is a distraction I can’t deal with right now. I’ve got to find work. I love being an attorney and I’m good at it. Getting back to work has got to be my focus.”

  He stared at her long and hard. “If you’re having trouble finding work, why not set up your own practice? Why does it have to be with a big firm?”

  Libby started to argue and quickly closed her mouth. All these months and not once had she considered opening her own practice. Actually, that was an excellent idea, and worthy of consideration. Still, it didn’t change matters between Phillip and her.

 

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