Love by Design

by Chris Keniston

  “I leave you alone for a few hours and look what happens.” Billy moved forward until he stood over Forrest. “How bad is it?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “And you?” Billy turned to Kenny.

  “He’ll be fine too.” Maile rushed up to Kenny, holding another plastic bag of ice.

  “Honestly.” Billy shook his head. “This is worse than a bunch of children.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner. But I really did try.” Forrest stared at Ava, and she almost caved at the fear she saw reflected back.

  “You should have told me.” Closing her eyes, she schooled herself for what had to be said. “I can’t do the aquarium.”

  The hand holding the bag of ice fell away from Forrest’s face. “Of course you can. You had the best designs.”

  Shaking her head, she took the bag from him and placed it to his jaw. “You told them to hire me.”

  “I did not. I told them to look at your work. You got the job on your own. I have some clout with the committee, but I don’t…” He winced and, covering her hand in his, lowered the ice bag a little. “…own the damn aquarium.”

  “He’s telling you the truth,” Annette said softly, then shrugged at all the questioning eyes staring at her. “I talk a lot with Evelyn.”

  “You do?” both Ava and Forrest echoed.

  Annette nodded.

  “Still—” Ava shifted, her hand on the bag of ice—”no one will know that. I can’t possibly be taken seriously now.”

  “You really don’t know how good you are, do you?” Forrest tossed aside the ice bag and pulled Ava onto his lap. “Why the hell do you think Smythe came here with his tail between his legs?”

  “That’s different.” Ava knew she should pull away, stand up, step back.

  “No, it’s not. Long before I ever laid eyes on you, that moron Smythe was losing ground fast. And why? Because you were the one behind the Sacramento designs. Not me. Not my connections. Your talent.” Running the back of his finger up her jaw, Forrest tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “And the whole damn world is going to see that, even if I never step foot in L.A. again. Which I may not.”

  “What?” several voices chorused, including hers.

  “I can run a company from anywhere.”

  “Oh, my.” Maile gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

  Had Ava not lost all ability to breathe, she might have managed a gasp herself.

  “You and I both know this business requires a lot of travel,” he continued. “Lots of job sites. Plenty of around-the-world meetings.”

  All she could do was nod.

  “But I can bark orders from an office here as easily as I can from L.A.”

  “Here?” she mumbled.

  “Yeah. There’s a nice building down the street. Not big. Only two floors. Just the right size for a satellite office.”

  Something was off. Maybe she had been the one to get hit in the head and knocked on her ass. She was furious with him. Livid. So why did she feel like throwing her arms around his neck and squealing with delight?

  “Told you he loved you.” Kenny said, handing Maile the other bag of ice and shaking out his hand.

  Dear God, was Kenny right?

  His attention back on Ava, Kenny flashed a cocky grin. “Oh, stop looking at me like that. Kiss the man, tell him that you forgive him for being an idiot and let’s get back to painting the house.”

  “You’re not really mad?” she asked Kenny.

  A rough chuckle sounded, as he shrugged. “Sorry, man,” he said to Forrest. “It was the only idea I had to stop her from driving off and building up a serious head of steam over this.”

  “You know who I am too?” Forrest asked.

  Kenny nodded.

  “Damn.” Forrest stretched his jaw again. “Did you have to hit so hard?”

  “Sorry. I might have also been a little mad at you. Hurt her again and I won’t hold back.”

  Forrest circled his arms around her. “Forgive me? Give me another chance to get this right?”

  She was pretty sure, if she thought about it long and hard enough, she’d come up with something to be mad about, but that would have to wait until later. Much later. “Absolutely.”

  Her lips barely touched his, when her mother clapped her hands and squealed, “Good. Uh… I mean…”

  “Oh, give it up, Mom.” Billy pulled his mother into a bear hug. “We all know what you were doing.”

  “We do?” Ava muttered first, followed by Forrest and Kenny.

  “Reverse psychology.”

  Maile lifted her chin to meet her son’s gaze. “How did you know?”

  “Angela rented The Fantasticks. It took me a while, since you didn’t build a wall and had no one to feud with, but, at the end of the show, it finally hit me. What I can’t figure out is, what made you think of it in the first place?”

  “Uh…” Annette cleared her throat and, raising her hand, wiggled two fingers. “That would be me.”

  “What?” Several voices chorused Surprise etched on their faces.

  Annette shrugged. “Between the few times I’d met Forrest and all of Maggie’s stories, I knew what a great guy he was and how hard he works and about the last bimbo he dated, who might as well have had the words gold digger stamped on her forehead.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Forrest helped Ava to her feet, then pushed himself upright.

  “Maile and I were chatting one day, talking about what to do for Maggie’s birthday, and we circled around to how good Ava and Forrest would be for each other. We agreed an all-out birthday bash might be the only way to get him to visit. What we had to do next was get the two of you together. But I know how you guys resist your mother’s matchmaking tendencies, so we thought, maybe if she tried something a little different…”

  “We didn’t need reverse psychology.” Forrest looped an arm around Ava’s waist. “She had me at hello.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Will you stop fidgeting? Everything is going to be just fine.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’re not wearing a pencil skirt.” Ava tugged at her hem and, for the umpteenth time this afternoon, wondered if she should have just gone with a different outfit for the Arts District’s official unveiling.

  Much to her surprise, the fact that she’d dated and was now engaged to the aquarium project developer didn’t seem to bother Howard Dempsey, or any of the other project leaders, one iota. As Forrest had predicted, her work spoke for itself. As a matter of fact, as a hats off to her design, the advertising firm hired to handle the publicity for the grand opening was developing a marketing campaign, calling the aquarium the flagship marine-life learning center of the West Coast.

  “Is Smythe coming?”

  The Sacramento project had actually undergone a weeklong schedule of events to create preopening buzz. A few of the restaurants had opened their doors even earlier. But the official ribbon cutting would be at four this afternoon, followed by cocktails and lots of schmoozing. “Afraid so. He’s still hoping to get back on the invitation-to-bid list.”

  “Not in my lifetime.”

  John, as she’d finally gotten used to calling him, rolled his eyes heavenward.

  “That insufferable peacock wouldn’t recognize a good idea if it bit him on the ass.”

  There was no point in hiding her laughter; she agreed with every word and could add a few more adjectives to the name-calling list.

  “Here we are.” John pulled up to the valet parking, handing the keys for the rental over to the scrawny kid with a big grin. He took a second to absorb the line of new construction in what used to be a barren field cluttered with dilapidated buildings. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

  Although she’d technically been a consultant on this project, she’d done all the work of a chief architect, and all praise on the design had her puffing up with so much pride it almost hurt.

  “Ready?” Always the gentleman, John extended his arm to
her. “I have a surprise for you too.”

  “Uh-oh.” Her steps slowed. John’s surprises could be slightly overwhelming. Like proposing ten thousand feet up on Haleakalā at the crack of dawn in front of her entire family and half the tourists on Maui. The memory still made her skin tingle and brought a stupid grin to her face.

  “There’s someone I want you to see.”

  On the patio by the sculpture garden, she caught sight of her friend and former colleague from her E&S days, Greg Austin, along with his wife, Allison. “Oh, my. This is a nice surprise.” She looked over at her fiancé and knew right away there was something more brewing behind those twinkling gray eyes.

  “You look wonderful. Let me see the ring.” Allison reached for Ava’s left hand and smiled. “Lovely.”

  Most people expected a man with John’s means to give her a ring to rival the Rock of Gibraltar, but sometimes she thought he understood her better than she did herself. For the most part she did okay adapting to the creature comforts of a man who could afford to fly her entire extended family to Maui to celebrate her mother’s sixtieth birthday. But it was the simple things she appreciated most, and the classic-cut one-carat solitaire was absolutely perfect for her.

  “Thank you.” She turned to Greg. “I heard you’re on the team for the Beijing project. Sounds like the move to SO&M was a good choice.”

  “For the most part,” Greg answered.

  “Chicago is very pleasant in the summer,” Allison provided. “But the winters are proving to be a bit of a problem.”

  “How’s that?”

  Greg smiled at his wife. “Allison is allergic to snow.”

  “I know a lot of people with that ailment.” John grabbed a couple champagne glasses from a passing waiter and handed one to each of the ladies.

  “Thank you.” Ava looked to Greg. “The condo in Honolulu isn’t helping?”

  “Oh, it’s fine for me.” Allison hooked her free hand on her husband’s elbow. “But if Greg’s not on a job site, then he needs to be in Chicago. I’ve barely gotten to see him this year.”

  “What can I say?” Greg flashed a coy grin. “She misses me.”

  “You’re not thinking of leaving SO&M?” That was a plumb job. Ava couldn’t imagine an architect as good as Greg just walking away.

  “After Beijing”—he glanced at his wife—”probably.”

  Squeaky wheels began turning in her head. There were perks to sleeping with the owner of one of the largest development companies in the country. John’s two newest projects had yet to be opened for bids, so only a handful of people were aware of the possibilities. The sheer volume of the new towers, both in China, was more than her small firm could handle. Until this moment she hadn’t even considered bidding. Especially when she thought about the amount of time it would keep her away from her family. However, if… “We need to talk. But not here. Do you have plans for dinner?”

  “None. We were thinking of trying out the nice little bistro across the street.”

  “Perfect.” She’d become rather friendly with the chef on her last trip. Her mom had tagged along, and the two had talked recipes for hours. Who knew a Cordon Bleu chef could learn a thing or two from her mother?

  Grinning over his glass, John took a sip of his drink.

  “Listen, we’d better circulate, or my boss will wonder what I’m getting paid for.” Greg slid his hand around the small of his wife’s back. “We’ll see you across the street. Say, six?”

  “Six.” She nodded. When the two were out of sight, she looked at her soon-to-be husband, still grinning like a well-fed cat. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

  Hefting a lazy shoulder, he feigned wide-eyed surprise. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You had something to do with Greg being at this little shindig. I know you did.”

  “Maybe.” He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve only had the China towers on my schedule for a couple of weeks, and already you’ve got doodles and ideas scribbled on napkins and scrap paper everywhere. You want to submit a design for those jobs, and yet you won’t, because you don’t want to leave for months at a time.”

  “But if I had an associate…”

  “I know he’s good. Greg’s done outstanding work on the Beijing job. But, more important, you know he’s good too. If the possibilities didn’t tickle your fancy, then we’ve lost nothing here.”

  She let her gaze shift across the large space to where Greg and his wife were chatting with Smythe and two people she didn’t recognize. “It could work.”

  “I thought it might. But you’re the one who would know for sure. Do you think he’d be a good fit for your business?”

  “I do.” She nodded, desperately wanting to fling her arms around John’s neck and kiss him senseless. She loved that he never told her what to do or how she should run her business. He just opened doors and let her draw her own conclusions and didn’t say a word if she disagreed. But, right now, the picture coming to her mind looked very pretty. Fifty or sixty years’ worth of pretty.

  * * *

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  About the Author

  Author of 10 contemporary novels, including the award winning Champagne Sisterhood, Chris Keniston lives in suburban Dallas with her husband, two human children, and two canine children and one feline grand kitty. Though she loves her puppies equally, she admits being especially attached to her German Shepherd rescue. After all, even dogs deserve a happily ever after.

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  Excerpt from

  Love Walks In

  Available now on Kobo

  Chapter one

  "Tom, you would have loved living in this house.” Seated at the café table nestled in the corner of her living room, Annette Deluca held the silver frame encasing her family’s photo. She remembered the day in 3-D Technicolor. Adam’s fifth birthday. Corralling her offspring for a photograph had taken more effort than organizing the entire party at the popular children’s venue. What the picture didn’t reveal was the near headlock it had taken for her to pin down their son for two minutes nor the gentle pressure with which her husband Tom’s hands held their daughter in place. Yet somehow Tom’s assistant had managed to coax a smile out of the two siblings, creating the perfect family picture. Damn how Annette missed that.

  With the windows wide open, the wind carried the sound of the distant waves crashing ashore and dropped them beside her, opening another floodgate of memories. Summers by the beach. Winters diving in Hawaii or the Barrier Reef. Christmas in the mountains. They’d done it all before the children were born and then done it again as a family. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you?” she asked the man in the photo.

  A gull swooping past the window caught her attention. Focusing on the broad wingspan as the bird glided away from the house and out to sea, she gave herself a mental shake. The last thing her late husband would want her to do is spend her days living in the past. “Time to get back to ringing in the season.” This year she thought she’d follow the lea
d of advertisers on television and get the house all cheery with Christmas spirit now, instead of waiting for after Thanksgiving. Over the weekend, she and the kids would bring out the tree and spend some family time hanging the ornaments and tinsel, and maybe even stringing some popcorn—the way they did when Adam and Bethany were really young. Pushing herself upright, Annette set the frame on the shelf where it belonged. Surrounded by the wealth of family photos that helped keep the memories strong, she shoved aside the melancholy and opened another box of holiday decorations.

  The first Christmas without Tom had been difficult. Thank heaven for Maggie. Annette’s household manager had become indispensable. Caring for the children day and night, taking on the role of mother, while Annette pushed her way through physical therapy and recovery. It was so hard to believe she’d survived that horrible crash. But she had with Maggie’s help. And then there was the entire Everrett clan. All of them, and what seemed like half the navy’s Special Forces, looked out for her and her children in those dark days after the plane crash that took Tom’s life and left her fighting for hers.

  And Lord bless Maile Everrett. Opening her home for the holidays had made the void caused by Tom’s absence a little easier to bear. Annette and her kids had still felt the hurt, but most of their smiles had been genuine, and that was due to the warmhearted matriarch. And, of course, the Everrett family’s ever-faithful German shepherd, Gunny, who had done as much for bringing back the spark to her son’s life as Maile’s grown son had.

  “Wow, the water is perfect today.” Maggie wrapped a beach towel around her, tucking in the corner as she crossed the threshold.