“Fair enough. Except you’ve also now filled four salt shakers with sugar. Which is pretty odd even for you, so I’m thinking there’s still something on your mind.”
Bobbie blinked. She looked down at the plastic container she’d grabbed from Tommi’s shelves and groaned. The label on it did say sugar.
She dumped the funnel’s contents back into the container. “Some help I am, huh?” She slid off the black barstool, heading toward the narrow swinging doors that led to the kitchen. “I’ll fix it.”
But Tommi caught her by the cowl neck of her orange sweater, halting her escape. “The salt can wait. What’s really going on? You’ve never been this preoccupied, not even when you were in the throes of infatuation for Larry-the-political-dweeb.”
Bobbie tugged her collar free. “It’s complicated.”
“Why? Because he’s too old for you?”
“He is not!”
Tommi gave her a serenely patient smile. “I knew you were interested in him,” she said with the superiority of a year-older sister.
Bobbie exhaled. “Fat lot of good it will do me,” she muttered. She picked up the sugar container. “He’s not exactly long-term material,” she said before pushing through the swinging doors. She slid the heavy container back into its spot on the orderly dry goods shelves and retrieved the one marked salt instead. She also grabbed four empty salt shakers from storage and when she carried everything back out to the wine bar, Tommi was tipping the incorrect contents into the empty coffee cup.
“I’m going to take it as a sign that you’ve realized Lawrence was all wrong for you, considering the words long and term have even reentered your vocabulary.”
Bobbie slid onto the barstool again. “Maybe,” she allowed. “Doesn’t make it any less humiliating the way he dumped me.”
“He has no class.”
“Gabe said that, too.”
Tommi’s dark eyes sparkled. “Ah. I’m liking him more and more.”
Bobbie couldn’t help but smile. “You would like him,” she said after a moment. “He’s a good man. Works hard.” She looked down at the large plastic container, but in her mind all she could see was his handsome face. “And there’s nothing he won’t do for his kids.”
Tommi fit the caps back on the salt shakers and pushed them to one side before reaching for the fresh ones Bobbie had brought out from the kitchen. “There are two, right?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She propped her elbows on the bar, resting her chin on her hands. “Lisette and Todd. She’s twelve and I’m not sure which she’s more passionate about—ballet or rap music. Which isn’t exactly the music Gabe wants her listening to, but he definitely knows he has to pick his battles where she’s concerned. And Todd’s ten and so much smarter than he realizes. Honestly, the boy’s a whiz when it comes to computers.” She smiled to herself. “He ought to be in HuntCom’s research and development department.”
Tommi reached over and pulled the lid off the salt container when Bobbie didn’t make any move to. She scooped out a portion to fill the funnel. “Gabe doesn’t have them full-time?”
“No, but not for lack of trying. Last week he had them for several days, though. Their mother was out of town.” Her lips twisted when she thought of Gabe’s former wife. The woman had stood at least five inches taller than Bobbie and she’d worn her self-confidence as easily as she had the numbingly sophisticated gown that had shown off her impeccable figure to its best advantage. “She was at the party, too.”
Tommi’s smooth motions as she filled the shakers came to a brief pause. “His ex-wife was at Fiona’s birthday party? How...well-adjusted.”
Bobbie let out a soft snort. “Not exactly.” She filled her sister in on Gabe’s mother’s connection to Stephanie. “His ex and her husband are planning to move outside the country again and take the kids, naturally. Gabe’s trying to get their custody arrangement changed so he’ll be able to spend more time with the kids, keep them with him for at least part of the year.”
“That sounds fairly admirable of him. Seems like there are a lot of men around these days who would happily leave the responsibility to someone else.” With the spare efficiency that came with long practice, Tommi capped the shakers and gathered them all up in her hands to take around to the tables that had already been draped with fresh, white linens for the next day. “But you think Gabe’s not long-term material.”
Bobbie twisted around on her stool, watching Tommi. “He says he’s not,” she corrected. “Can’t get much plainer than that.”
“Not unless he packs up and leaves, I suppose,” Tommi agreed. Finished with her task, she moved to the large front window that was stenciled in gold with The Corner Bistro and looked out on the rain-drenched street. “Hard to believe it’s going to be Christmas in a couple of months,” she murmured. “Your Gabe sounds like a man who comes with a closetful of baggage.”
Bobbie bristled. “Which means what, exactly?”
Tommi glanced over her shoulder. “Meaning just that, sis. You said yourself it was complicated. You don’t have to get defensive.”
Bobbie exhaled and deliberately relaxed her shoulders. “Well, the complications get even more twisted.”
From across the cozy bistro, she saw her sister’s smooth brown eyebrows lift warily. “How...twisted?”
Bobbie wrapped her fingers around the sides of the seat beneath her. “Some people at the party might think I’m engaged to marry him,” she admitted slowly.
Tommi’s hands lifted. “Why would they think that?”
“Because-I-told-his-ex-wife-we-were.”
There. She’d admitted it.
Which still didn’t make her own behavior feel any more real.
Her sister put a hand to her head, released the clip holding her smooth, dark hair up in the back and thrust her fingers through the strands as if she’d developed a sudden headache. She pulled out the nearest chair and sat down.
Bobbie picked at a tiny jag in her thumbnail. “And Gabe figures she’s not likely to keep the news to herself,” she added more slowly.
“Bobbie.”
Her shoulders hunched again, even though she tried to stop them. “I told you it was complicated.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning and un-complicate it for me, then.”
So Bobbie did. Skirting a few of the more intimate details—like how she’d been dissolving from the inside out when she’d danced with Gabe beneath the tent’s twinkling lights or how she’d known that if he’d disregarded her words and followed her anyway when she’d left, she would have invited him in for a whole lot more than coffee and a good-night kiss—she told her sister everything.
And when she was finished, she didn’t know if she felt more exhausted or relieved. “I promised him that all of you would have our backs.”
Tommi gave a half a laugh, though she didn’t sound amused. “Who would I know to tell otherwise?”
“Ethan—that’s Stephanie’s current husband—works for HuntCom,” Bobbie reminded her. “Not that I think Uncle Harry would care about any of this, but I guess I wouldn’t want to chance it. He’s not exactly predictable.”
“And if you want to look at the money and the board seats he gave us in this particular light, you could say he’s been known to be protective of us.”
“Right.” Bobbie brushed her hands down the thighs of her blue jeans and pushed off the barstool. “I do want to help Gabe—he really loves those kids, Tom—but I would hate for someone’s career to be jeopardized. Even if he is married to the first cousin of the Wicked Witch.”
“There’s no earthly reason why Uncle Harry would ever learn about any of this from me.” Tommi’s voice turned brisk. “I haven’t talked to him in weeks. I’m certainly not going to tell him.”
“What if Mom does?”
�
�She wouldn’t for the same reasons. Are you clear on the reasons why you’re doing this?”
“I’m just helping Fiona’s grandson,” Bobbie insisted. “I know it’s not going to lead anywhere...permanent.” But she also couldn’t stop from wishing otherwise.
“I know Fiona means a lot to you.” Her sister grimaced wryly. “But I can also see a look in your eyes when you talk about Gabe that doesn’t have anything to do with his grandmother. So just...watch yourself, okay?”
“I’m not under any illusions,” she assured. Having her sister’s support went a long way toward settling the nerves inside her. “Now, since I didn’t even fill any salt shakers, I owe you for the therapy session and the lunch.”
Tommi smiled again, this time for real. “And when have you ever paid for lunch before?”
Bobbie laughed. They both knew that Tommi would have refused to take her money even if she’d offered it. “Well is there something else I can do around here to help you out?”
Tommi shook her head. “I’m going to catch up on the books a little and then call it a day myself.”
“Good.” Bobbie retrieved her hooded jacket from where she’d dumped it at the end of the wine bar and slid her arms into it. “You look like you need a long bath and a tall glass of one of those Italian wines you like.” She leaned over and hugged her sister, who was still sitting near the front door. “And hire another sous chef, already, so you don’t have to work so hard.”
Tommi hugged her back. “You work on straightening out your own life and leave me to worry about the bistro,” she advised lightly. “What are you dressing up as for Halloween at the Bean tomorrow?” The coffee shop’s employees always dressed in costumes for the holiday.
Bobbie lifted her shoulders. “I haven’t thought about it much.” She’d been more than a little preoccupied of late, though the kids had brought up the issue when they’d been at her house. Their mother considered trick-or-treating too déclassé, but they were planning to dress up for school, though neither child had been particularly enthusiastic about their store-bought costumes.
Tommi looked surprised. And Bobbie couldn’t blame her. Since she’d been a girl, she’d always enjoyed putting thought and effort into her Halloween costumes. Even when she had nothing else to do on the day but answer the door and hand out sweets to the children who came knocking. “Aren’t you working?”
“Yeah. I’ve got the morning shift all this week.” Even though she usually came and went through the restaurant’s back door, she flipped open the lock on the brass-trimmed front glass door. It was pouring, and she had managed to find a coveted street parking spot down the block, which meant leaving through the front door was quicker. “I’ll figure out something.”
“Go as a bride,” Tommi suggested.
“Ha ha.” But she managed to laugh, too, as she left her sister to lock up behind her.
When she got home, she let the dogs outside. They loved to play in the rain, so she put them on their chains and left them to it while she went to her closet to find some inspiration for a Halloween costume.
When her phone rang a little while later, she very nearly ignored it, since the only one to call her lately had been Quentin Rich. But it kept ringing and ringing, so she pushed herself off the floor of her closet and went to the phone.
“Bobbie? This is Cheryl. I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”
Cheryl was Fiona’s secretary at the agency. “What’s wrong?”
“Fiona. She collapsed in the middle of a meeting over at Cragmin’s a few hours ago.”
Bobbie’s knees went out and she sank onto the corner of her bed. “Is she all right? Where’s she now? Does her family know?” Does Gabe?
“I reached Mr. Gannon at the law office.” Cheryl named the hospital that Fiona had been taken to. “But I don’t know what to do about the agency. Everyone here is asking what to do. We have a class of dogs that are supposed to graduate this weekend, and I know she also hasn’t finished payroll. Nobody knows what to do!”
Bobbie exhaled. “Keep doing what you normally do,” she said simply. “Aaron’s the head trainer. He knows what to do for the graduation. The match list of the recipients for the dogs is already done; I saw it on Fiona’s credenza when I was there the other day.” They would all be present at the training graduation, when the dogs were handed over to their new partners.
“Should I call in someone to do the payroll, or what?” Cheryl sounded only slightly less frantic. “I hate to even bring it up, but none of us can afford to miss a check. And I obviously can’t go asking Mr. Gannon about it now.”
“I’ll think of something, Cheryl.” Though she didn’t know what. The office would be closing in little more than an hour. “Don’t worry. Just tell everyone to keep doing their jobs. I’ll get back to you before the end of the day. Okay?”
“Okay.” The other woman hung up, sounding somewhat less frantic. Bobbie, on the other hand, felt like her stomach had been tied into a knot. She called the dogs in and re-crated them with fresh food and water. “Your wet coats are going to have to wait this time,” she told them as she added fresh towels to the floor of their cage for them to lie on. As soon as they were settled, she was out the door again, heading to the hospital.
She’d barely gotten off the freeway when her cell phone rang. Not even glancing at where it sat on her console, she thumbed the speaker button and braked behind the long line of cars at a stop light. “Hello?”
“It’s Gabe.” His deep voice came through loud and clear on the little phone.
“Gabe!” She tightened her hands around the steering wheel. “I’m on my way to the hospital. How is she? How are you?”
“She’s going to be fine,” he said quickly. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you heard.”
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
“Fiona’s secretary called me.” She inched forward in traffic while one portion of her mind considered alternate routes. “What happened?”
“She had a mild heart attack.”
Bobbie sank her teeth into her tongue to keep them from chattering. She still remembered Harry’s heart attack from a few years ago. And her father had died of one.
She’d just seen Fiona the evening before, dancing the night away in her yellow gown.
“Bobbie? Did you hear me?”
She nodded. Foolish. He couldn’t see her. “I heard.” She swallowed past the knot in her throat again. “How mild?”
“If everything goes well, she should be out of the hospital by the end of the week.”
“That’s good.” She took advantage of a break in traffic to change lanes, turning down a side street. She’d make faster time going through the neighborhoods than on the main streets that were clogged with construction and rush-hour traffic. “Is everyone there?”
“Yeah. Fiona wants to see you.”
She had to slow down for a school zone. “I’d have been there by now if not for this damn traffic.”
“You’re fine,” he assured. “She’s having some tests run right now, anyway.”
“You’re sure she’s all right?”
“Talked to the doctor myself. Obviously there are some things he wants her to watch, but she got immediate medical attention when it happened and the damage to her heart was minimal.” She heard a rustling and then his voice was less clear. “She thinks we’re really engaged.”
Bobbie glanced down at the phone as if she could see Gabe’s face. “What?”
“Stephanie told Renée, who told Astrid, who naturally told Fiona.”
Her fingers flexed around the steering wheel again. “That wouldn’t have caused her—”
“No,” he cut her off. “That I can promise you. I left the party shortly after you did, but Fiona evidently knew last night. She told me just a little while ago that she had
no intentions of going anywhere before she had the pleasure of seeing us walking down the aisle.”
“I knew this would blow up in our faces! Didn’t I tell you it was a bad idea?”
“Don’t panic. Everything will be fine. I just wanted you to know what she was thinking before you see her.”
“She should know better than anyone that we haven’t been involved.”
“Yeah, well, I guess we were wrong in thinking that. From what she’s said to me, she takes full credit for putting us together in the first place. I’ll tell her the truth when I have to, but not until she’s stronger and well again.”
“Of course.” The last thing Bobbie wanted was to upset Fiona in any way. She turned down another block and could see the tall lines of the hospital building in the distance. “Have you told Lisette and Todd about Fiona?”
“Stephanie did. She brought them to the hospital about a half hour ago.”
“Is she still there?” The thought of encountering Gabe’s ex-wife again so soon wasn’t palatable, but it also wasn’t enough to keep her from going to see Fiona.
“She has to leave soon to get ready for some business dinner Ethan’s got. She had a sitter lined up for them, but the kids don’t want to leave.”
“Can you blame them?”
“I don’t,” he assured mildly. “Getting their mother to agree is another matter, and Fiona doesn’t need to hear us arguing about it now.”
“Of course not.” She turned another corner and nosed her way back onto the main street. The entrance to the hospital was fifty yards away. “I’ll be there in a minute. Are you all in the emergency room?”
“She’s already been moved to a private room.” He told her the number. “It’s a little crowded up here, though, so I’ll just meet you downstairs by the main entrance.” He didn’t wait for an answer before he hung up.
Bobbie thumbed the end button on her phone and turned in to the parking lot. There were a half-dozen signs directing people to various areas and she found herself heading up the emergency ramp instead of entering the visitor’s parking lot. Cursing under her breath, she turned around at the first opportunity and managed to get herself back where she belonged.
One Step Away: Once Upon a Proposal Page 29