by Cate Beauman
“No.” She captured her hair in one hand, twisting it into submission.
“What are you doing down here, Soph?”
“Today’s my mother’s birthday.” She looked to the sky as it started to sprinkle. “She would’ve been forty-nine.”
Suddenly everything made sense. “I’m sorry.”
“She was so young. Too young.”
He didn’t know what to say as he rested his arms on his knees.
“She loved yellow tulips, and she loved the ocean.” Her lips trembled before she pressed them into a firm line. “I almost forgot.”
“That she liked yellow tulips?”
She shook her head, shuddering out a breath. “Everything’s been so busy with the jewelry and starting over… This morning and afternoon were crazy. I didn’t realize today was her day until we were at the store and I started talking about her famous prime rib.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away.
Those miserable violet eyes of hers were ripping at him. “She would understand,” he tried.
She shook her head again. “After my dad died things weren’t easy, but she always made me her priority. Always. She was so special. She deserves to be remembered.” She swiped at the next tear.
He steamed out a breath, hating that she was crying and trying so hard not to. Tears were his worst nightmare. He didn’t have gentle words or know how to comfort others; he rarely cared enough to try. “Are you happy?”
She sniffled. “Yes, happier than I’ve been in a long time.”
“Don’t you think she would be glad to know you were so caught up in being happy and living your life that maybe she would be okay with you forgetting for a little while?”
She released a shuddering breath, sucked in another one, and exhaled sharply again. “I guess she would.”
“Well, there you go.”
She fiddled with the stem of the flower as she held his gaze. “You—you’re not what I thought you were.”
“What did you think I was?”
“Cool—a little rude.”
“Maybe I am.”
She shook her head. “No, Stone, you’re not.”
He shrugged. He was both of those things, but not with her. There was something about her that made him want to be gentle. She made him care no matter how hard he tried not to.
“I think that maybe under all those grunts and shrugs there’s a pretty sweet man.”
He shifted, clearing his throat, uncomfortable with being called “sweet.” “Cool” and “rude” worked just fine for him.
“She would’ve liked you—my mother.” Sophie gave him a small smile as she leaned her shoulder into his. “She would’ve thanked you for helping her daughter. You’ve helped me so much, Stone. I can never thank you for all you’ve done for me.”
“You don’t need to thank me.” He didn’t need her acknowledgements or want her gratitude. He did what he wanted to for no other reason than it suited him.
Lightning flashed in the distance, followed by a long roll of thunder and the trickling rain turned into a downpour.
She rushed to her feet. “Go ahead back up. You’re getting soaked. I’ll be along to make dinner in a couple of minutes.”
He stood, wanting to do just that, but he couldn’t leave her here alone while she closed her eyes, kissed the flower, and tossed it into the waves.
“Happy birthday, Mom. I love you.” She turned, facing him as tears mixed with rain on her cheeks.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so helpless or wanted so badly to vanish someone else’s pain. Maybe he never had. “You don’t have to cook.”
“Yes I do.”
He shook his head. “I’m in the mood for a sandwich anyway.” He was freezing as the rain poured cold drops and the wind blew. He wanted something hot to chase away the chill, but his cooking rarely produced decent results, so that wasn’t happening tonight.
“Then I’ll make us sandwiches.”
“Or I can make them. Slapping some mayo and meat on a piece of bread isn’t that big of a deal.” The rain pounded now. “We should get back, unless being wet and cold is your thing.”
“If you make sandwiches, I’ll heat up some soup.”
“Sounds like a deal.”
“Good.” She gave him a wobbly smile.
“You gonna be okay?”
She nodded and picked up Murphy, snuggling the wet puppy close as they started toward the walking bridge. Even though she’d said she was fine, her eyes were still sad.
He hesitated then settled his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him, wanting desperately for her to flash him one of those pretty smiles. “What kind of soup are you thinking about making?”
She paused mid-step, meeting his gaze. “Does chicken noodle work?”
“Sounds damn good right about now.”
She slid her arm around his waist as they walked home. “I thought so too.”
~~~~
Eric circled through the cemetery as he had several times throughout the day, certain Sophie would come. There was no way she would go three years without paying her respects to poor pathetic Christina, especially on a day Sophie had always thought so important. She’d asked to lay flowers on her mother’s grave every May thirteenth, and he’d happily told her no for no other reason than he could.
He’d allowed her to give her mother a proper burial. What would the people of Bangor have thought if he’d done otherwise? But he’d forbidden her from visiting from that point forward. She’d protested at first, but the slap and shove down the flight of stairs had ended that quickly enough. He’d always found a secret thrill that she’d been afraid enough of his consequences to stay away from a place she desperately wanted to be.
Sophie had adored her mother, never leaving Christina’s side during the last few weeks of her life. While Sophie held vigil over her dying mother, he’d enjoyed spending the money Christina had put aside for her useless daughter. By the time they’d sent mommy into the ground he’d blown through most of the inheritance, purchasing his new vehicle and completing the renovations on the downstairs bathrooms and addition of the new bar for entertaining. He didn’t mind sending up a toast to the dearly departed every now and again. The smooth granite countertops and high-end stock of wines and scotches she’d paid for suited him quite well.
He slowed, noticing the rusty car parked along the side of the road close to Christina’s marble stone cast in the shadows of dusk. He grinned, spotting the small figure crouching down, setting a bouquet of yellow tulips at the grave.
“You just couldn’t stay away, stupid, stupid Sophie.” He smacked his hand on the steering wheel in triumph, thinking of all she had to pay for: the humiliation of canceling the wedding alone would cost her dearly, as it had cost him his pride. He pulled over then back on the road just as quickly when the woman stood. He narrowed his eyes, noting her willowy build and long black hair, realizing it wasn’t Sophie after all. He grit his teeth with the surge of anger. Where the hell was she, and who was this person setting flowers by Christina’s headstone?
He continued down the winding road, pulling into the diner across the way, waiting, ready to find out. He tapped his fingers in frustration, watching the green digits on the center clock change three times before the piece-of-crap vehicle turned right. He followed at a distance, making note of the license plate, trying to figure out where he’d seen the woman before. There was something very familiar about her.
She turned into the ratty apartment parking on Twelfth Street, and he continued on, dialing David’s number, knowing somehow that the lady with the yellow tulips would be the key to finding Sophie and his last shot at the rest of Sophie’s money.
Chapter Thirteen
Sophie hurried into the restaurant, searching for Abby. She spotted her friend’s bright lilac spaghetti-strap top among dozens of other lunch-hour patrons and walked quickly to the table as their waitress moved away in the opposite direction. “Hi.�
�� She set her purse and two gift bags on the table. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Aubrey wanted to try bending wire today. She almost had it. I couldn’t leave until she did.”
“Don’t worry about it. My meeting ran over by a few minutes, so I’m just getting here myself. I ordered us salads.”
“Okay.” She sat down and crossed her legs, wearing fitted black capris and a sleeveless lime colored top. “Good.”
“So how are things over at Stowers House this afternoon?”
She tried to volunteer one morning a week at the place that had given her a fresh start and somewhere safe to stay. “Busy. So busy, Abby. More and more women are coming.”
She nodded. “That means more and more women are getting themselves out of bad situations.”
“Yes they are. Thanks to you and Lily they can.” She sipped her lemon water, parched after a hectic day.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” Abby handed over her phone. “Take a look at these.”
“Oh, he’s beautiful. He looks just like Jackson.” She grinned as she swiped her finger across the screen, looking at the pictures of Abby’s sweet new nephew, Owen. “Olivia must be in heaven.”
“Definitely.” Abby smiled. “She and I take turns holding him when I visit, which is every chance I get.”
“How’s Alexa doing?”
“She and Jackson are over the moon. They have the family they’ve always wanted.”
“It’s so nice to hear about happy endings.”
“Yes it is.”
“I actually have something for Alexa and Olivia.” Sophie slid the pretty gift bags over to Abby’s side of the table. “It’s just something small. I noticed that Olivia has her ears pierced, so I made them both a pair of earrings.”
“That’s so sweet.”
“I hope you can deliver them the next time you stop by your sister’s.”
“Absolutely. Thank you,” Abby said as the waitress set their grilled chicken salads in front of them.
“Thank you,” Sophie said as well, handing back the phone to Abby as the waitress walked off.
Abby picked up her fork. “So how are things going on the home front? We haven’t had much of a chance to talk over the last couple of days.”
“I know. We’re both so busy, but things are pretty good.” She smiled thinking of Stone sliding his arm around her shoulders on their walk home in the rain three days ago. “Great actually.”
“We’ll take ‘great,’” Abby said after swallowing her bite.
Sophie grinned, so full of happiness she didn’t know how she could possibly contain it all. “Tuesday night I kicked Stone’s butt on the basketball court.” She chuckled, remembering the fun they’d had. “Okay, I won by one point. He treated me to a victory dinner. We ate Malcom’s burgers on this desolate mountain road with an amazing view, and Wednesday I helped him pick out the appliances for the kitchen.”
“Sounds fun.” Abby beamed.
“It was. But I think one of the best parts of my week was when he helped me through a rough patch on my mom’s birthday. I didn’t know he’d realized I was upset, but he did. He sat with me on the beach in the rain, then we went home and made soup and sandwiches together.”
“Aw.” Abby’s big blue eyes softened. “He’s a good guy.”
“He really is. He’s very sweet, even though I don’t think he liked it much when I told him so.”
Abby chuckled. “I’m sure he didn’t.”
“I have a new car,” Sophie said in an excited rush.
Abby’s eyes widened. “You do?”
She nodded, thrilled that she’d driven into the city this morning without having to wait on a bus. The traffic had been awful, but it had been awful while she sat in her very own vehicle. “It’s a 2013 so it’s not exactly new but it is to me. Stone gave it to me.” She shook her head. “He fixed up the car that had been in his driveway, you know the one on the blocks? We’re doing a rent-to-own deal.”
“Interesting.”
Sophie frowned as she chewed her first bite of amazing blackened chicken. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” Abby grinned. “I’m just glad things are working out well for the both of you. I think you’re as good for Mr. Dark, Buff, and Broody as he is for you. I think Stone’s got a thing for you.”
It was Sophie’s turn to widen her eyes at the idea of Stone McCabe having any sort of “thing” for her. “Oh, I don’t think so. We just live together. We’re friends.”
“I don’t know, Sophie. Dinner out with a view, shopping, confidants, cars. It all sounds good and friendly until you realize we’re talking about Stone.”
Sophie set down her fork and pressed a hand to her jittery stomach, afraid as much as she was intrigued. “Are you sure? I just can’t… I don’t know what to do.” She wadded her napkin as she shook her head. “He’s gorgeous and kind, and I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you want to do?”
She expelled a rush of air. “I’m attracted to him. I don’t know how it’s possible not to be, but everything with Eric… I’ve only been on my own for a couple of months. Things were really messed up. I really let him mess me up.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Abby reached over and squeezed her hand.
“It’s true. I’m mad at myself and at him for letting him treat me the way he did, but I’m still afraid. It’s like I’m under some sort of spell where just one look at him somehow vanishes all of my power. Thinking of him right now makes me feel powerless. I automatically shrink, and I hate it.”
“I can’t say I understand what you went through exactly, but I have some idea.”
“I know. I think that’s why it’s so easy to talk to you.”
“Good,” Abby said with a decisive nod. “That’s what friends are for.”
“Yes it is.” She smiled. “I’m so glad we’re friends. You’re such a nice person.”
Abby squeezed her hand again. “Thanks.”
“So what do you think I should do about Stone?”
“Nothing.”
She frowned. “Nothing?”
“Things are good the way they are right now, right?”
“Yes.”
“So let them be. If both of you want something more you’ll get there when the time is right. Stone seems like the kind of guy who goes after what he wants. Just follow his lead.”
“If you think that’s right.” She huffed and rolled her eyes. “I’m almost twenty-five and I’m clueless when it comes to men and relationships. It’s ridiculous and embarrassing. I wish I would’ve paid more attention to boys in school than a darn basketball.”
“You’re evolving.”
“Evolving.” She smiled. “I like that.”
Abby chuckled. “So, I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“Okay.” She took another bite of her salad.
“The gift you made for Lily…”
“Mmhm,” she said as she swallowed and picked up her glass of lemon water.
“She wants another set, something different—a little more bold.”
She set down her glass with a small thud. “She does?”
“She does, and she wants to set up a meeting to talk about including some of your pieces in a couple of the upcoming fashion shows.”
Sophie stared, trying to believe what she was hearing. “What?”
“Lily wants to use some of your work. This has the potential to take your business to a whole different level.”
She shook her head. “Lily Thomas wants to use my jewelry on the runway?”
“Yup.”
“Is this a good time to start hyperventilating, or should I just pass out?”
Abby laughed. “How about you say you’ll meet with Lily on Monday to discuss the idea instead.”
“Yes. Absolutely. Of course.” She needed to call Stone and tell him the news. She set her napkin on the table and stood, walking over to Abby, giving her a hug. “Thi
s is so exciting.” Her name was going to be everywhere; her picture would be in the papers. This was the exposure she needed—but couldn’t accept. Her smile vanished as trickles of reality ruined the moment. Eric would see her. He would find her. She took her seat. “I can’t.”
Abby paused with a bite to her lips, her eyes full of surprise. “You can’t?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Sophie, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“I know,” she said quietly, looking down as she tried to settle her nerves. The idea of Eric finding her sent a rush of terror through her veins. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“But I thought—”
“I would love to, but it won’t work.” She gripped her hands tight in her lap, realizing she would never have a chance like this again.
“Can I ask why?”
“He’ll find me.” She met her friend’s gaze. “He’s powerful—very influential. He has connections—lot’s of them. I just don’t…” She gripped her arms with icy fingers.
“You don’t have to say anything more.”
“I’m sorry.” Abby would never understand the level of her regret. This was what she’d dreamed of. This was where she’d always hoped to take Burke Jewelers, but that would never be a possibility on the run.
“Don’t be.”
She nodded.
“Let me just say one more thing and we’ll drop this entire conversation. If you ever want to share or need to talk it all out, I’m here. I bet Stone would want to help too.”
She shook her head. “I can’t tell him about Eric. I want him—no, I need him to see me as normal. I’m sure that doesn’t make sense—”
“Oh yes it does. I can promise you that.” Abby held out her arm, showing off her watch. “This thing’s fitted with a transmitter so Jerrod and Ethan can find me if I disappear. For the most part we think I’m safe…” She shrugged. “There’s little about my situation that’s normal, but Jerrod loves me for me. Sometimes it’s hard, but we’re both learning to roll with the way things are.”
She studied the pretty watch on Abby’s wrist, then looked at the petite yet powerful woman sitting across from her, feeling utter admiration. Abby had been through an unimaginable nightmare, yet she thrived. She had a successful business and healthy relationship with a man she loved who loved her in return. “How did you put it behind you?”