by Stark, Cindy
She took a breath and tried again. "Listen, I know you love Cassie and want what's best for her. Despite our problems, I know you do." Even if his version of love was slightly distorted. "Can't you see that giving her the gift of making her own choices is what's best for her? Out of everything that we can give her, this is the one thing that will truly make her happy."
"Quite frankly, Elena, I don't see that. I realize you don't come from a sterling background and may not be able to recognize the full effect her education will have on her life, but I do. What use is an art degree?"
She ignored the personal barb. She wasn't going to allow him to make her feel less than her worth. "Have you ever looked at Cassie's work? Taken the time to really appreciate it?" He shrugged, and she knew he hadn't. "It's brilliant. She's been blessed with a rare gift. It would be a tragedy if she wasted it and spent the rest of her life in a boardroom."
"She'll never make money at it."
"Be serious, Richard. If she never made a dime, she'd still have more money than she'd ever need."
That stroked his ego, and he puffed out his chest. "Well, that part is certainly true."
Some things never changed. "Before you decide to cut her off, take a good look at her work. I think you'll be proud. Listen to her tell you about what she does and how she does it. Then decide."
He shook his head. "Your arguments are pointless. I'll look at her work to appease her, but eventually, she'll need to come around to my way of thinking. It would help if you'd stop putting frivolous ideas in her head." He jutted out his chin, glancing around her shop. "And please don't ask her to work here again. The last thing I need is her thinking she'd enjoy this type of blue collar work. Honestly, I can't believe you haven't come crawling back to me, begging me to save you from your own horrendous choices."
She could almost hear the ping of the button he'd pushed. She wished she could ignore the provocation, knowing that it was his way of saving face, but she'd had enough of his pompous attitude. "I'm sorry my choices don't live up to your standards, but that's your problem. Not mine. I'm proud of what I've accomplished here, and I will always tell Cassie to follow her dreams." Seriously, how could she ever have believed herself to be in love with him? Here, she'd tried to keep things civil, but there was no disguising an insolent jerk.
"You working here is a disgrace, Elena. To all of us."
"Us? There is no us." When would he learn that?
"I paid you a very generous settlement."
Her emotions exploded. "That doesn't give you the right to tell me what to do." Her blood pressure continued to rise. "I make my own decisions." She wanted to jab her finger into his chest.
"We both know the funds I gave you bought this business. You'd be nothing without me."
She hated that she'd had to take his money. She'd wanted nothing more than to walk away, but her lawyer had convinced her that she owed it to herself and daughter to ask for a settlement, that Elena's commitment all those years earned her the right to have enough to take care of herself. Even at that, she'd only asked for enough to get her started in her new life. She wanted nothing from him. "I deserved every cent of it, after all the years I spent with you."
He snorted. "When will you see reason? I don't understand why you'd want to lower yourself to such a level when it's not necessary." He brushed the sleeve of his coat as though being in her shop had somehow dirtied him. "You know you need me. Don't make me prove that. If it weren't for my connections and my money, this shop never would have made it off the ground. You might want to remember, too, Karl and I were friends in college. One call to his bank, and it could still all come tumbling down." A malicious glint sparked in his eyes. "Perhaps you should consider that the next time Cassie seeks your counsel on school matters."
A tremble rocked through her. "Are you threatening me?" She would never back down to him again, but she couldn't pretend he didn't have the power to hurt her business. She'd thought Karl was her friend, too, but if he had to chose, who knew?
He huffed a laugh and looked away. "Oh, Elena. If you could just see the error of your ways."
"I think you should leave." She nodded toward the front of the store.
He shrugged. "Whatever you wish. Enjoy your squalor, for now. Eventually, you'll come around." He turned and left the workroom. She followed and watched as he walked out the front door, a rush of cool morning air replacing his unwelcome presence.
Her fingers shook as she locked the door behind him. Bastard. How dare he threaten her like that?
She took a quick stock of the friends and associations she'd made since her divorce. She ran a good business with a solid reputation. That was solely her hard work. Nothing from him. Could she withstand a personal attack from Richard? She'd like to think so, but knowing that he could hurt her that way, left her feeling vulnerable.
One thing she did know—she needed to work harder than ever to grow her business, to earn more money, so she could get her damn loan paid off. That would ease her financial worries a thousand-fold.
And squalor? She looked about her shop with its impish decorations and country cottage charm. The fragrant smell alone bespoke peace and loveliness. It was her sanctuary. Besides her home, she couldn't imagine a more beautiful place in the world.
Blue collar or not, it far surpassed the hell she'd lived in while married to him.
* * *
Two days had passed, and Elena's nerves still hadn't settled from Richard's verbal attack. She sat at a small table toward the back of her floral shop, determined to bury her worries. Opposite her, an excited bride watched her mother write a check that would cover the deposit portion for flowers for her upcoming wedding. Elena filled out the dollar amount of the deposit on their order form just as the roar of a huge machine echoed through her shop. A loud, resounding boom followed a few seconds later, shaking the shop's windows and the many glass vases she had sitting on shelves.
"Goodness," the bride's mother said.
Elena tried to laugh it off. "I'm not sure what that was." She handed the receipt to the woman and all three of them stood. She walked her patrons to the door to find a large backhoe directly in front of her shop, ripping through big chunks of asphalt like a dog digging for a bone.
The claws hit the ground, sending another shockwave through her store.
The mother took her daughter's elbow, releasing a nervous chuckle. "We should leave while we still can, I think."
Elena smiled to the woman. "Thanks for coming in. I'll be in touch." And then the two were gone. She turned to Carmen who stood behind the counter refilling the display that held courtesy gift cards. "What is going on?"
The short Hispanic lady with cropped salt-and-pepper hair squinted her eyes that hid behind thick, black-rimmed glasses and peered toward the window. "Looks like they're digging up the street."
"I know that, but why?" The earth shook again, this time knocking a vase to the floor. The pink porcelain shattered.
"I wouldn't worry. Things will work out for the best, and you know true winners always come out on top." She turned back to her work as though nothing was wrong.
"I'm going to go talk to them. I should have received notification or something about this." Carmen's unconcerned attitude made her almost as mad as the construction workers. "Please clean this up while I'm gone."
Elena pushed open the front door of her store. The smell of warm fall air and dirt assaulted her. She stepped off the curb, waving her arms widely to attract the attention of the construction worker who stood out front of the backhoe, watching the operator's work. It took him a moment to spot her, but when he did, he whistled and the machine ground to a halt.
"Lady, what do you think you're doing? It's dangerous to be this close. You need to be back behind the orange cones."
"What is going on here?"
The hard-hat clad man widened his eyes as though he wondered if she might be dense. "We're digging up the road," he said slowly as though that would help her to understand.
"I can see that," she said in the same tone. "Why?" She threw this word at him.
He smiled then and relaxed as though he was grateful he wasn't dealing with an idiot. "Replacing water lines, ma'am."
"Why wasn't I told about this? Shouldn't the city notify business owners? This could impact my shop significantly." It would kill any impulse shopping or men stopping on their way home.
The worker went back on alert. "Don't know, ma'am. We're just the grunts."
"How long is this construction going to take?"
He shrugged. "A month, maybe?"
"A month? Are you kidding me?"
He stepped back and lifted a dusty hand, signaling the backhoe operator. The machine roared to life. "I'd suggest calling city hall," he yelled to her. "They'll be able to give you more information."
Elena walked back into her shop as the backhoe slammed into the ground, the impact making her jump. "Good Lord." She could not put up with this for a month.
An hour later, Mercedes walked into Elena's shop just as she replaced the telephone receiver on its hook. Her friend and Carmen eyed each other with nasty looks as Mercedes approached the counter. Elena hadn't had one customer during the past hour since the horrendous noise began, and if the two women decided to get into it right here and now, there would be hell to pay.
Mercedes leaned on the counter, increasing the amount of cleavage her low-cut red sweater revealed. Subtle, but Elena knew it would irritate Carmen. "What's with all the eye-candy outside? They're making a mess of your street."
"No kidding. I can't get anyone at city hall who knows anything to talk to me. All I get are answering machines or a polite receptionist who'll take a message."
Carmen cleared her throat. "I'm going to take my lunch now, Elena, if that's all right with you."
"Sure. It's not like we're going to be swamped with customers."
The other two women traded nastier looks as Carmen grabbed her purse from beneath the counter before heading out.
Mercedes laughed as the door closed behind her. "She does not like me."
"Do you have to purposefully irritate her?"
"What? I didn't say anything to her."
"It's not what you say, Mercedes." Elena pulled out her cell and scrolled through the numbers in her contact list. "Besides, I have bigger things to deal with than Carmen's petty jealousy because Emilio likes you." She selected Cole Taylor's number. "Maybe the mayor's brother can help me."
Her call lasted little more than five minutes, and Mercedes stayed at the counter watching her the whole time. "There." Elena tucked her phone back into the pocket of her slacks. "Sometimes it does help to have friends in high places. He's going to look into it for me and see if there's a way they can minimize the impact it will have by requesting that the majority of the work is done after hours."
"Mmm…" Mercedes smiled, the expression lighting her face. "He's not hard on the eyes, either."
Elena released a long sigh. "No, he's not." He also wasn't Joe. "You'll be happy to know that he asked for a favor in return."
Mercedes set down the pen she'd been playing with, grinning. "Really? What does he want?"
"He asked me to accompany him to the mayor's re-election party in a couple of weeks. The same one that I'm decorating."
"Muy bueno. I'm impressed. I think maybe I have taught you a thing or two."
"Oh, stop. You know I have to focus on my shop, especially with this latest catastrophe." Another impact rocked her store, providing the perfect emphasis. "Will you help me pack up some of these pots so they all don't end up shattered on the floor?"
Elena returned from the back area with several large cardboard boxes, and they began removing anything near an edge that could possibly be shifted close enough to fall.
"How are things going with you?" Elena asked her friend. She wasn't sure if she should broach the subject since Mercedes hadn't brought it up.
"Good." A grin sneaked across her face. "I'm seeing a counselor, and you'll be happy to know I haven't had sex since Cabo."
A laugh slipped from her lips. "Really? Not that it's funny, just I'm proud of you."
"We're working through some issues. Some of them are kind of tough, but I'm making progress."
"That's all that counts." Elena didn't ask what the issues were. If Mercedes wanted to confide, then she could. "It's nice to see you happy."
Mercedes pondered that for a moment. "I am happy." She lifted a Talavera pot and set it in the box. "From Mexico?"
"From a vendor I found while I was in Cabo."
"I guess you haven't heard from Joe."
"I won't." She wouldn't call him. Except for that one weak moment when she'd dialed and then hurried and hung up. But that didn't count. "He doesn't have my number."
"Do you ever think about him?"
"Why would you ask that, Mercedes? He was a one-night stand."
Mercedes scoffed. "No. I don't think so. There was something different about him, chica. He had potential. Trust me. I've met enough men to know."
Elena folded the top of her box closed and pushed it beneath the shelving. "I wish you and Cassie would stop bringing him up. He was a fling, nothing more."
"Then why do you look so sad when you talk about him?"
She crossed her arms in front of her. "Seriously? I am not sad about him. If you're seeing any kind of expression on my face, it's concern, worry or anxiety. I lost another regular account this morning." She gestured toward the front of her shop. "Then this disaster this afternoon. I'm beginning to think Cabo left a curse on me."
"What can I do to help?" Her friend's concern touched her.
"I don't know." She sighed. "Nothing. I need to weather the storm, I guess." She paused for a moment. "Something's been bothering me, though." She wasn't sure she wanted to voice her concerns. It was as if speaking them would somehow make them more real. "Richard was here the other day. He's angry because Cassie is still going to Berkeley and because I had her work in the shop. He threatened me. He hinted that if he wanted, he could ruin me." A shiver rolled through her, and she realized she'd been more worried about his threats than she'd admitted.
"Do you think he's causing all your problems?"
Elena walked to the back of the store and sank into a chair at her consultation table. Mercedes followed. "I don't know. Maybe. I mean, he couldn't have known how to cancel my shipments or be able to freeze the flowers. He could influence a few of my accounts, but I don't think he knows the people who've cancelled standing orders. Besides, do you really think he'd go so far as to somehow cause the ruckus outside?"
"Seems pretty unlikely. Maybe it's just a run of bad luck."
"Is there such a thing as a Cabo curse?" Elena laughed, trying to relieve some stress.
"I don't think so." Mercedes picked up a pink rosebud that lay on the floor and twirled it between her fingers. "But you do have me, and together, we'll keep your business floating."
* * *
Elena walked along the quaint sidewalks of Carmel, a cup of straight black coffee in one hand. Next to her, Cassie walked, carrying a similar cup. Her daughter had shown up early on a Saturday morning and had insisted they fortify themselves with the strong brew before opening the store.
Now that school had started, Elena couldn't have asked for a more lovely or welcome surprise than having her daughter drive up from Berkeley to spend the weekend with her. Her arrival had worked wonders for improving Elena's mood. It hadn't elevated beyond tolerable since construction had started outside her store two weeks ago.
Cole hadn't been able to find any information on why the reconstruction project had suddenly popped to the top of the list. All he knew was the city had some kind of excess funds that had to be spent right away, or they'd be forfeited. Her friend-in-high-places hadn’t been able to do a thing for her, so she was stuck watching her profits dwindle away.
She hadn't heard a word from Richard, but she still hadn't been able to shake her suspicions. Even if he ma
naged to bring her business to its knees, she'd never stop fighting for her freedom. For a brief moment, she'd considered selling her shop and starting over in another state, out of Richard's grasp, but damn it, she'd bled to build her business here, and she'd continue to do so, if needed. Carmel was her town, too, and she would not run.
Mid-October sun sprinkled down on them as she and Cassie walked, the air fragrant with the scent of pine and old leaves. She'd loved Carmel since her grandmother had brought her to visit once when she was a child. Her mother had called the trip foolish, but her grandmother had insisted that even the poorest people could enjoy art.
She still remembered the grand sculptures and obscure paintings. Though some of it hadn't made any sense to her, she'd been in awe. And of course, she loved the way the town treated its canine friends as respected citizens.
She considered herself blessed to live and work there. To Elena, the city was like a living art gallery. Canopies of giant cypresses and pines loomed over the town. Nestled underneath, were picturesque cottages with pitched gable roofs and crooked stone chimneys. History was revered. Streets made way for the trees, not the other way around. Life here was good.
One block over, her shop showcased beautiful hand-hewn wood trim around her elfin windows and doors. How could Richard have ever called it squalor? A jealous man was an ugly thing.
"Weather's supposed to be good all weekend," Cassie commented. "After you close the shop today, let's walk over to the Seaside Gallery and check out the new artist they have displayed." She sipped her coffee.
"Sounds like a great idea. I've heard his work is inspiring."
"Well, that's exactly what I need, then. I've been working on a watercolor of the ocean right before a storm comes in, and I'm going nowhere." Her daughter heaved a sigh. "I'm trying to show the suppressed power clawing its way out, but it seems so blah. There's no…life to it. It needs energy."
"If the gallery doesn't inspire you, we'll head to the beach afterward," she said as they rounded the corner. Lord knew she could use some peaceful moments letting the surf wash away her cares.