Maybe This Time

by Jennifer Snow

  “Better than another hockey player,” she said, teasing, letting it go. For now.

  “You’re right about that.”

  As she left the living room, Abigail studied the pile of clothes. If Becky didn’t believe her, maybe her friend Jocelyn could convince her. She quickly selected the khaki jacket and the daisy sundress from the pile and stashed them in her purse, brushing aside a small pang of guilt.

  If these items were the hit she suspected they would be, Becky would forgive her for stealing her baby clothes.

  * * *

  “Abigail, these are incredible,” Jocelyn said two days later, after Abigail had couriered the items to her in L.A.

  “I know, right?”

  “I mean the stitching is perfect, and the little details—those buttons are the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

  Abigail beamed. “I knew you’d love them,” she said refilling her coffee cup and carrying it outside onto the back deck. She sat in the rocking chair she’d bought from a local woodworker and enjoyed the early October breeze over the lake. She was a little worried that she hadn’t been getting a lot of substituting hours in the last two weeks, but she did appreciate the extra time to get the house in order and the opportunity to enjoy perfect, crisp fall mountain mornings like this one.

  “So, who is this designer?” Jocelyn asked. “Is there a website I can order from?”

  Abigail did a silent squeal and seated happy dance before saying calmly, “It’s a work in progress, still a fairly new company. You’re lucky to be getting a sneak peek at the fabulous product line.”

  “So you’re teasing me with product I can’t have.” Jocelyn didn’t even realize her tone was bitchy—that was just her style, so Abigail took no offense. Instead, she used it to her advantage.

  “Well, I could—I mean, the designer could put an order together for you and send it next week, along with an invoice.” In her mind, she was already designing Becky’s nonexistent new company logo.

  “You want me to buy items I’ve never seen and agree to an open invoice?”

  Sure, when she worded it like that, it sounded a little risky, but she knew Jocelyn well enough to know she was interested in the product…and she also knew Jon, Jocelyn’s husband, had just signed a five-year contract with the Kings worth $56 million. If anyone could afford to sign an open invoice, she could. “Ten more sample items for four hundred dollars.” Forty dollars apiece, when she knew Jocelyn would attach a sticker price of a hundred dollars or more, was a great incentive, and if Becky really did only spend three or four dollars to make the items, then she’d have one hell of a profit as well.

  Jocelyn hesitated just a second before saying, “Send boy clothing. I’m overstocked on girl items right now.”

  “Will do,” Abigail said, desperately trying and most likely failing to keep her excitement out of her voice. She rocked happily in the chair and sipped her coffee, feeling rather productive and pleased with herself.

  “You really should consider moving back here. We could do great business together,” Jocelyn said.

  She smiled. “Thanks, but I’m not a businessperson. I’m just a substitute teacher.”

  “Ha! Darling, you just sold me product unseen. Ditch the brats and come work for me.”

  Abigail laughed. “I’ll send you that invoice.”

  * * *

  “Is right here okay?” Jackson asked Paul Samson, the owner of the Taco Hut on Main Street, as he placed the bottle recycle bin in the corner near the door the next day.

  “That’s great,” Paul said, coming out from behind the counter to turn the OPEN sign on.

  “Thanks again for allowing us to place one in here.” The Taco Hut was five minutes from the high school and saw a lot of lunch traffic during the week. He’d been surprised when Abby had announced them as one of the participating businesses in their bottle drive efforts, as he knew they made decent money from the recyclables. To be donating that to the school was impressive, especially when Paul was one of the only business owners on the list who didn’t have children participating in the programs the school offered. At thirty-five, the man was still the town’s most eligible bachelor.

  “Well, it took a little convincing, I won’t lie, but Abby Jansen can be quite persuasive.”

  Something in his voice wiped the smile from Jackson’s face. “Yeah, she’s been great on the fundraising committee,” he said, putting a clear plastic bag inside the bin.

  “It doesn’t hurt that she’s still sexy as hell. She could have asked me for just about anything the other day when she came in here, and I probably would have been too busy checking out that body to even realize what I was agreeing to.”

  Jackson’s jaw tightened. “She’s a smart woman, and the school will definitely benefit from having her on board.”

  “I’m sure it’s not too hard having her around…or maybe it is hard, if you know what I mean,” Paul said with a wink.

  Locker room banter had never bothered Jackson when he was young and stupid, but at twenty-nine he’d come a long way from disrespecting women, and he’d have hoped Paul would have grown up as well. Apparently not.

  “Here’s the number to call when it’s full. We’ll stop by and replace the bag.”

  Paul took the card with the school’s number on it. “I’d rather just call Abby.”

  That’s it. Swiping the card back, Jackson turned and grabbed the recycle bin. “You know what? Thank you, but Glenwood Falls Elementary won’t be needing your support this year,” he said, pushing through the door and heading straight toward the truck, ignoring Paul’s look of surprise. “Asshole,” he muttered, throwing the truck in reverse.

  Paul’s words had nearly gained him a black eye, and he hated the jealousy that coursed through him. Until that moment he hadn’t really considered that there were probably more men than just him in the town who were head over heels for the woman. Men who didn’t have the deterrent of being her ex-husband’s best friend. Men who wouldn’t hesitate to approach her.

  He hit the steering wheel. Damn it! What would the impact of watching her fall in love with someone else be on him? Once had been tough enough. A second time would be the death of him.

  He had to tell her how he felt and let whatever happened happen. Friendships and loyalties aside, he had to at least go after what he wanted this time. If she didn’t want him, he’d somehow learn to live with that. But something in the way she’d watched him work the day before—the desire he’d seen in her eyes—made him think that maybe she just didn’t know what she wanted until it was standing in front of her, eager and willing to give her everything she’d ever deserved.

  The recycle bin rolled in the bed of the truck as he stopped at a red light and he sighed. And now he needed to find a replacement business for the bin before the woman he was crazy about found out and kicked his ass.

  Chapter 12

  Don’t be mad.”

  “Every time Taylor starts a conversation like that, I end up baking until three a.m.,” Becky said, reaching into the washing machine and tossing the wet clothes into the dryer above it.

  “I promise I don’t need you to bake. Though that does remind me—the school’s having another bake sale fundraiser next week.”

  Becky shot her a look, eyebrow raised as she shut the dryer door and picked up a basket of dry clothes. “Once this new baby arrives, I’m using him or her as an excuse to get out of everything—no more baking, no more cooking, no more chauffeur. I hope you all are prepared for that.”

  Abigail suddenly felt the tiny pang of nervousness about the news she was about to give. Taking care of a baby was hard work, and Becky had so much on her plate already. Maybe going behind her back and launching a baby clothing company hadn’t been the right thing to do. She bit her lip, hesitating as she followed her down the hall, where she carried the laundry basket into the nursery.

  But a second later, her uncertainty vanished as she saw yet another full inventory of baby clothes in the bask
et. Her friend wouldn’t have to make anything new after the baby was born; she already had enough items to fill two stores for a year. Feeling confident again, Abigail said, “Okay, remember that friend I told you about in L.A. who owns the baby boutique on Rodeo Drive?”

  “Yes. In fact, I Googled the store after you left, and oh my God! The stuff she sells is so beautiful, but crazy expensive. Fifteen hundred dollars for a crystal butterfly mobile for above the baby’s crib?” Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Who’s crazy enough to pay that much for something like that?”

  Abigail glanced at her feet. She had. Or Dean had. It had been her push present—the gift from her husband after she delivered Dani. She’d thought the whole concept of getting jewelry or an expensive gift just for going through labor was ridiculous, no doubt another occasion dreamed up by diamond manufacturers, but all the other hockey wives had gotten one, and Dean wasn’t about to let anyone outdo him. “Anyway,” she said. “I sent her a few of your items.”

  Becky’s eyes widened.

  “And she loved them,” she said, continuing quickly.

  “She did?”

  “Yes. And she placed an order for more.” She smiled, and waited for Becky’s to appear.

  Instead she frowned. “What?”

  “Boys’ clothes specifically,” Abigail said.

  Becky shook her head. “Abby, you’re crazy. I appreciate your support in this, but I’m not ready to sell my stuff. I’ve seen the clothing she carries and the price tags that go with it. My items are not worth two hundred and fifty dollars apiece.”

  Crap. Two hundred and fifty? She’d undersold Becky’s items. She’d be better prepared for the next call to Jocelyn. Abigail reached into her purse for the check she’d received that morning for the first two sample items she’d sent. “Jocelyn’s customers felt otherwise.” She handed over the $80 check. “Sorry, I think I underpriced them.”

  Becky’s mouth dropped and she slowly lowered herself into her chair. “Someone bought my items?”

  “Yes. The khaki jacket and the yellow sundress.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I was wondering what happened to them.”

  Abigail pointed to the check. “This.”

  Becky sighed. “This is a lot of money for two items.”

  “Right. So I think a smile, a high five, perhaps even a woohoo, would be appropriate,” she said with a laugh.

  Becky finally smiled. “Okay. Woohoo!”

  “That’s better. Now, let’s see about the items for the first order.” She sat on the floor and started looking through the items in the basket. “This stuff is so fantastic,” she said, holding up a navy hoodie with a front pocket pouch. The dinosaur on the front was wearing sunglasses and offering a peace sign. “Jocelyn is going to freak.”

  “I’m going to freak.” Becky looked worried again as she stared at the check in her hand.

  “Look, just take a breath and tell me which ten pieces you can part with—boys’ stuff.”

  “I made this stuff for my own child. I’m not sure I want to part with any of them.”

  “You may not even be having a boy. Besides, there’s enough clothes here for three boys. Pick ten things.” Tough love would be the only way to get this done. She held up the dinosaur hoodie again. “This one?”

  Becky sighed. “Fine. I have another one of those decals so I can make another one.”

  “Awesome. What else?”

  Twenty minutes and a lot of coaxing later, they finally had ten items.

  “Are you sure about this, Abby? I mean, she’s not just buying this stuff as a favor to you, is she?” Becky asked, looking worried.

  The woman had no idea how talented she was. “Are you kidding? Jocelyn was named one of the top entrepreneurs under thirty in L.A. last year.”

  “Exactly. I’m not sure my stuff is good enough.”

  “She was also listed second on Cosmo’s Bitchiest Women in Business. Believe me, she isn’t doing this as a favor to me. She isn’t as successful as she is by following her heart.”

  “Okay.” Becky looked at the check again. “We could use the money, and I had been contemplating whether or not I should go back to work, so Neil wouldn’t have to take the tours overseas so much, be home more…”

  Abigail smiled. “Then this is perfect. You can still be home with the kids and have your own business bringing in money, a lot of money.” She stood and, taking the items, added, “Follow me into the kitchen. I have something else to show you.”

  Set up on the table were the brochures and company letterhead she’d designed to send to Jocelyn after their phone call a few days before.

  “Oh my God, Abby, these are gorgeous,” Becky said, picking up the trifold brochure with the logo BABY CHIC in blue and pink lettering across the front. Inside were the pictures of the jacket and the dress she’d already sold.

  “If you want to change the name or the design or…”

  Becky cut her words short with a big hug. “I can’t believe you did all of this. It’s beautiful,” she said, moving away and reaching for a tissue. “Stupid hormones,” she said with a laugh. “Really, though, thank you.”

  Abigail smiled. “You’re welcome. So, you’re okay with all of this? This is exciting, right?”

  Becky nodded slowly. “Excited, definitely. Sure? Not entirely.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll be sure about it for you, until you are.”

  * * *

  “Mom!”

  Dani’s shrill voice made her jump and nearly spill her coffee on the fundraising brochures she was checking for the bottle drive—pamphlets to hand out to the business owners in the community to garner more support. They’d already had ten companies sign up, but one of their biggest, Taco Hut, had unexpectedly changed their mind, so they needed to make up the difference.

  “In the living room,” she said, setting the coffee aside, far away from the pamphlets she’d picked up from FedEx that afternoon. She knew some of the fundraising committee members were still reluctant to believe investing money in the project could yield bigger results, so she’d paid for the brochures herself, not wanting to add to the initial investment cost. Small price to pay to show everyone she knew what she was talking about.

  “You will never believe it.”

  She smiled as her daughter vibrated in front of her. “Whatever it is, it must be pretty awesome.”

  “Taylor is going to the NHL game tonight with Jacks…Coach Westmore in Denver!”

  Her smile faded slightly. “That sounds awesome, for Taylor,” she said, waiting for what she knew was coming next.

  “And they invited me to go with them!”

  Abigail plugged one ear and winced at the high-pitched squeal that nearly drowned out the words.

  “Can I go? Can I? Please?” She clutched her hands in front of her and bent slightly at the knees, a desperate pleading look in her dark eyes.

  “Oh, sweetheart, it’s a school night, and Denver is an hour away.” She bit her lip, feeling like the world’s worst mother as her daughter’s excitement deflated like a day old helium-filled balloon.

  “But Taylor’s allowed to go,” she said, a new whining to her voice.

  “Yes, but it’s Taylor’s uncles who are playing tonight.” Becky had mentioned something about the first game of the season where her brothers would play one another—Ben on the home team, and Asher playing for New Jersey.

  “So when the Kings play against the Avalanche I can go to the games to see Dad play?” she challenged, crossing her little arms across her chest.

  How had she foolishly thought she’d escape the preteen attitude for a few more years at least? “Well, we would have to talk about that when the time came.”

  “Right. The answer would be no then, too. You hate Dad.”

  Knife expertly to the heart. Wow, kids were good at that. “I don’t hate your dad.” Just because she’d carefully selected photos without him in them to display in the new house didn’t mean anything.
r />   “This sucks,” Dani said, slumping onto the couch.

  Abigail sighed. “We could go to Slope and Hatch for dinner and see a movie?”

  Dani glared at her.

  The sound of a vehicle pulling onto the gravel driveway made Abby glance outside in time to see Jackson’s truck park and Taylor jump out, wearing her Avalanche jersey.

  Great. Her daughter had called in reinforcements. “What are they doing here?” she asked, her mouth going dry as she saw Jackson climb out of the truck. Even in jeans and his own jersey, all she could envision was the rock-hard body she knew was underneath, an image of his straining back muscles as he’d carried in her furniture, and the odd rush of color to her cheeks whenever she passed the lilies on the table.

  “They assumed you’d say yes. We all thought you were cool,” her daughter grumbled.

  “Nice, Dani,” she said, running a hand quickly through her hair as the front door opened and Taylor burst into the living room.

  “Are you ready? Where’s your jersey?” she asked, glancing at Dani.

  “I’m not allowed to go,” Dani mumbled, still glaring at Abigail.

  Taylor added her own daggers to the attack.

  “It’s a school night…”

  “My mom’s letting me go,” Taylor said.

  She sighed. Being tag-teamed by preteens was not her idea of a good time.

  “You two ready?” Jackson asked appearing in the doorway. His question was directed at the girls but his gaze was locked on her.

  Her pulse raced and she told herself to get a grip. It was just flowers. And intense, long-lasting eye contact that seemed to hold a lot of unsaid words…

  “Dani can’t go,” Taylor said.

  “It’s a school night,” Dani said, rolling her eyes.

  “Becky said Taylor could go,” Jackson said, looking confused.

  Seriously? She expected it from the kids, but he could help her out a little. She shot him a look.

  “Oh, I mean…If your mom says no, then it’s a no, girls.”

  All three of them stared at her.