by Holley Trent
Hell, they were free.
“There you go. And paired with Ben, who apparently could sell a weave to Rapunzel, you two really got this little company a lot of notice. Look!” Nikki woke up her tablet computer and passed it across the desktop.
Daisy took it, and tried to make sense of the reports. “What are these?”
“That’s requests for information form data. The trade show attendees filled out. The form was Jerry’s idea. He coded the link into our QC code on the product literature and that took the interested parties directly to our website to find out more. Of course, we don’t have any information about the products because we’re making this shit up as we go along.”
Daisy handed the tablet back. “So?”
Nikki tapped the screen with a fingertip and leaned back in her chair. “So, all of these people—store owners, corporate buyers, beauty columnists—they all went home, tried the soaps, and want to know how to get them. We’re going to tweak them and get all three samples developed into full-sized products.”
Daisy’s jaw dropped. “All three?”
“Yep. Go big or go home. We’re not going to hold anything back. Either we put them out first, or someone else will try to reverse-engineer them and get them out before we do.”
“People do that?”
Nikki rolled her eyes. “Oh, honey. That’s just business.” She stood. “I know very little about soap, so I’m letting you fly free on this one.”
Oh boy. Daisy closed her eyes and rubbed them with her palms. “Um…”
“Let me guess. You’re worried about your mother.”
“She could be a problem.”
When Daisy opened her eyes, Nikki walked around to the window behind Daisy, and shifted the blinds shut.
“There. Now she’ll be even more curious. How soon can you develop them?”
The little lady wasn’t kidding. This wasn’t a joke. Now Daisy had to either shit or get off the pot.
“I need a week or so to tweak. Maybe more.”
“And if you do liquid hand soaps with the same scents, how much longer?”
Daisy goggled at her. “I’m sorry? Liquid soaps?”
Nikki held up the display screen of her phone and pointed to a series of text messages. “I talked to Trinity. Don’t keep secrets from me. Professional no-no.”
Daisy ran her tongue over dry lips, speechless.
“And while you’re estimating that, I need a fourth soup. Something for men.”
“Shit.” It came out in a whisper, and Nikki barked with laughter.
“Yeah, that’s the kind of reaction I’ve grown to expect from my crew. Lay it on me, Daisy.”
“I…” Daisy shook her head and shrugged. “I need a couple of weeks, especially with having to tip-toe around Momma.”
“Fine. Fill out a materials requisition and get it to Trinity ASAP. I want all the supplies in before she leaves for her honeymoon next weekend.”
“Okay, I’ll…” What? When are you going to manage that with Momma looking over your shoulder all afternoon? “I’ll do it tonight.” Daisy stood to leave the office.
“Great, keep me updated. I’m so stoked. Now I just need to get Ben on board.”
“On board for what?”
“I offered him a marketing job this morning. Told me he’d think about it.” Her grin was devious. “They always come around.”
“Oh.” Daisy’s stomach churned as she pulled the door open. “Good to know.” If he said yes, she’d have to see him again. What the hell would she say?
She returned to the worktable where Momma was measuring out colloidal oatmeal. Daisy set about gathering the other ingredients for the familiar bath soap.
“What’d Nikki want?” Momma asked, not even looking up.
“Nothing, just wanted to see why I was late.”
“Why were you late?”
“I was just late. Happens sometimes.”
“Right. Called your house last night around nine to see if you wanted me to pick you up this morning. Liz said you left before lunch and hadn’t come home yet.”
Daisy didn’t respond. She just readied the trays.
“Where’d you go?”
“Out.”
“With who?”
Daisy sighed. “Why, Momma?”
Momma finally looked up, and jammed her fists against her hips. “Why? Because I know it wasn’t Barry. Barry was at your place.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I sent him over there.” She rolled her eyes. “Duh.”
Daisy felt the blood in her face drain, and she sat hard on her stool before her body could fall. “Why would you do that? We got divorced for a reason.”
“You were the one who filed. He didn’t want it.”
“He signed. Obviously he wanted it.”
Momma sighed. “Obviously he was just doing what he thought you wanted. He’s a good man, Daisy. Didn’t he take care of you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“What do you mean, no? You had a roof over your head, didn’t you? He didn’t push you to have any kids. Brought money home.”
Daisy could hardly believe her ears. She looked behind her, and noting a few staff members within earshot, lowered her voice to a whisper. “Momma, he was a drunk. He treated me like property.”
“Did he hit you?”
Daisy shook her head.
“Sounds to me like you’re just sensitive. I never knew you were so picky.”
“Picky? Are you presuming to know what went on behind closed doors in my marriage?”
Momma put up her hands in a defeatist gesture. “All I know is what Barry told me. Sounded reasonable. He was so sad, coming to me like that. Asking what he did wrong. Still don’t know.”
“The Barry you know isn’t the Barry I was married to.”
“What does that even mean?”
Daisy blew out a breath. “I’ve got a headache. I’m going home.”
“In late and out early. You trying to get fired?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.” Daisy rolled her eyes and edged off the stool. She decided that, yes, independence was a very good thing. She was sick of being under other people’s thumbs. Tired of relying on other people’s grace for some measure of success. She wanted her own, even if it meant hurting some feelings.
Even if it meant disregarding her own.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Louis looked from one of his sons to the other and back again. One was quite angry. The other looked bemused, leaning against a nearby column with his arms crossed over his chest. Louis understood both reactions.
“If I had known you were going to show up here, I wouldn’t have told you about the flight change. The only reason I told you in the first place was so you knew Clara was around and you could keep Kate away,” Jerry said. “It was hard enough getting her to come. She worries she’s not wanted.”
Louis scanned the terminal in search of incoming travelers, but there was no fresh surge. Flight hadn’t started unloading yet. “Don’t worry about Kate.”
“Why not?”
“Jerry, this isn’t a good time.”
“The hell it isn’t. You’re the one who’s complicating this. This was supposed to be a stress-free pick-up. Now she’s going to see you and try to bolt to get back on the plane.”
“Don’t exaggerate.” He knew Jerry wasn’t particularly prone to hyperbole. The last year had been a strained one between the two of them, ever since Jerry learned about his origins in Belgium, and how his father had, in a way, stolen him from his mother. Louis didn’t regret taking him. He loved his son—was proud of how Jerry had thrived in spite of how difficult Kate, and himself to some degree, had made that. Jerry was a genius. A bloody genius! And tattooed from neck to ankles, but was another matter.
He appealed to his other son for assistance. “Ben, do you really think she’ll be upset?”
He blinked at his father, and lifted his shoulder
s in a shrug. “Out of sorts? Ja. Bewildered. Upset? Hard to say. I’m not certain on what her current feelings regarding you are or if she’ll be openly hostile.”
“Oh. That’s good,” Louis said. It was as if he wasn’t even listening, because he really wasn’t. Not completely. A cluster of travelers started filing into the baggage claim area, and moments later, there was a woman, searching the room for someone she recognized.
His heart beat in double-time. More than thirty years since he last saw her, and yet it was like the first time when she’d been standing behind the desk in that hotel lobby. He couldn’t catch his breath then, either.
She was small-boned: delicate. Shorter than average, which was stunning now since they’d somehow managed to make two sons who stood over six feet tall. Blonde hair, bright eyes, and far too pretty for this Earth, even in middle age. Back then, when she was barely a woman, he’d wanted to wrap his arms around her and protect her—whisk her away. He hadn’t done that. He’d hurt her in one of the worst possible ways. He took a piece of her because he was a coward and didn’t know what else to do. He’d made a series of wrong choices. Once he decided to go through with one bad idea, they built upon each other and created some monstrous thing.
She stood frozen, eyes locked on him broken only by the stream of harried travelers walking between them in search of their baggage.
Jerry broke the standoff. “Mom, what does your luggage look like?”
Clara turned her head toward him, lips parted, and eyes slightly widened. “Uh…” She closed her eyes and furrowed her forehead. When she opened them again, she shook her head and gave Ben’s shirt hem a small tug. “De strepen?”
“Oh. Right. Jerry, they have stripes. Black with dark gray stripes if I remember correctly.”
Clara nodded. “Yes, stripes. Two bags.”
“Got it.” Jerry eased himself through the clump of travelers and positioned himself near the baggage carousel.
Louis shifted his weight. With Clara temporarily distracted by the task of stuffing her travel documents into her purse, he wondered, much like Jerry had, what he’d been thinking showing up there. Surely he could have exercised some patience, but when Jerry had given him the update, something inside of him had clicked and the errand suddenly became an obligation. He had to be there. Maybe he was waiting for his chance at making penance: the sooner she got her initial anger out, the sooner he could try to make amends.
At least, he hoped.
He took a step toward her, and then one more when he realized he wasn’t going to turn to ash. When he was a few feet away, he extended a hand and touched her shoulder.
She flinched, but he kept his hand there.
“Welkom.”
“Hello,” she said, forcing her wary sea blue gaze up to his.
He couldn’t read anything in it. Her expression was neither angry nor particularly friendly, but at least she hadn’t brushed his hand away. That was a start.
Ben reached in and relieved her of the tote she wore on her other shoulder as Jerry rolled over two suitcases.
Louis dropped his hand and tore his gaze from her face. He looked at the boys. “Buy you all dinner?”
Jerry shook his head. “I think Trinity was going to put in a big take-out order. I can call her and see if—”
He put his hands up. “No, that’s okay. I guess I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner Friday.” He looked at Clara again and chewed his lip before talking. “Do you need anything?” Anything. Just tell me what you need—what would make things better?
A slight shake of her head.
“All right. I guess I’ll go catch up on work.”
With a wave, he turned on his heel and strode toward the parking deck.
His first interaction with his long lost love in over thirty years hadn’t been a rousing success, but at least she hadn’t tried to maim him. To Louis, that sounded a lot like a coup.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Daisy checked her watch and grimaced before edging off her stool. That old idiom about burning the candle at both ends came to mind as she considered her odd work hours over the past couple of days. She’d been avoiding the barn during normal working hours for much of the past week, and instead showed up a few hours before opening or a couple of hours after closing to tweak the soaps.
Her mother had been calling her phone, leaving messages questioning where she was and warning her that her behavior would ultimately result in Nikki’s disenchantment. The benefit to being at home during midday and at work at dark was that she didn’t have to interact with anyone at her house. She loved her roommates but lately, and far too often, there’d been an extra body lurking around which Daisy was decidedly disinterested in engaging with. Been there, done that.
She cleaned up her station and locked up. When she turned around, car keys poised and ready, she yipped at the sight of Ben moving toward her on the path. She clutched her chest as he approached.
“What are you doing out here this late? It’s after one.”
He nodded and gestured toward their waiting vehicles. “I know. Been busy with my mother the past week. She’s trying to adjust to the time zone. Anyhow, over dinner tonight, Trinity said you’ve been working off hours. I thought I’d see if you wanted some company.”
“Oh.” She lingered with her hand on her car’s door handle. “Nice of you. You don’t have to be so nice.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to be nice?”
She shrugged. “Nice seems inconvenient for a lot of people.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re quite odd.”
“Tell me something I haven’t heard before.”
“Okay.” He leaned against the side of her car and crossed his arms over his chest. “How about this? I’m the one who turned your phone off last Monday morning so your alarm didn’t go off.”
Her jaw dropped. “Why would you do that?”
He took a step closer so the fronts of their bodies skimmed, and she was forced to lift her chin up to meet his gaze. “I figured you’d wake up and run. I didn’t want you to run.” He traced the shape of her lips with his fingertip. “You felt nice.”
She didn’t know what to say. “Thank you?” No, that was lame. She swallowed. “You felt nice, too.”
He leaned in and replaced his finger with the end of his tongue, making a slow, sensuous lap around her mouth before flicking at the seam of her lips.
She parted them, letting him in, and he tipped her head back more.
He seemed to study her face for a moment, then kissed her lips, the end of her nose, and her forehead with feathery pecks. “Daisy?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you really marry me if I were desperate?”
“Yes,” she answered without thought. She squeezed her eyes shut. “No, I mean—” She sighed and opened her eyes. “Why would you be desperate?”
Some dark thought showed on his face for a moment then quickly flitted away. He brushed an errant curl back from her face, and tucked it behind her ear. “Do you want to go home with me? I don’t think anyone would mind, and it’s late for you to be driving to Edenton.”
“I do it all the time.”
“Doesn’t mean you should.” He bobbed his head toward the Jeep. “Come on. Follow me home.”
“I have to get up early. I need to make some headway on the new soap bar, and if I have to go all the way home to change, it’ll take me forever to get back.”
He scanned her apparel from neck to feet and she suddenly felt very self-conscious in her simple blue tank and jeans. He looked wonderful in everything he wore thanks to his swimmer’s physique. In the slightly sagging track pants and clingy T-shirt he wore, he looked positively edible. He seemed to be too good to be true. Why was he even talking to her? Engaging her? Certainly, he had better things to do.
Now his lips were on her earlobe, tickling the fine hairs there. “No one has seen what you’re wearing today except me.”
Breathe, breathe, breathe. “Um.
” Where did all the air go all of a sudden? “True, but…”
“No excuses. Come home with me.”
When she didn’t immediately crawl into her car, he growled and leaned in close, his stiff erection probing against her belly. “You feel nice.” He clamped his teeth onto the top of her left ear and gave it a gentle pull as he worked his hands down her back. He cupped her ass, and the act seemed almost possessive.
He ground himself against her, and having found her breath, she moaned at the pleasurable friction of his hard chest against her aroused nipples. She even conceded that being wanted felt good, even if that wanting was just physical. She couldn’t hope for more than that.
She nodded. “I’ll—I’ll follow you.”
He didn’t let her go before giving her one more searching, skillful kiss.
All the way, her heart pounded and head reeled. She barely saw the road. She felt like some besotted teenager sneaking off for an illicit tryst with the popular boy at school—their little secret.
Except it wasn’t.
When they arrived at Jerry and Trinity’s dark house, Ben hustled her through the kitchen door, pulling her by the hand, but then they were stopped at the sight of a small woman who leaned into the open refrigerator.
He gave Daisy’s hand a little pull. “It’s all right. Moeder is the night manager at the hotel she works at in Belgium. She would just be getting home from work right now if she were there.”
The woman straightened, eyes wide as she clutched a carafe of orange juice.
He drew Daisy in closer, apparently feeling absolutely no shame about bringing a woman home in the middle of night. “Daisy, this is my mother, Clara Thys.”
“Oh.” Clara set the orange juice back in its rack, dried her moist hand on her dressing gown, and extended it to Daisy.
Daisy wrapped her hand around it and shook.
“Moeder, this is Daisy. She works with Jerry and Trinity and makes fabulous soaps.”
Clara’s eyes crinkled at the edges as she smiled. “Soaps? Uh, natuurlijke zeep?”
He shrugged. “Well, as natural as they can manage. Sometimes they’ve got to add preservatives.” He turned to Daisy. “Sorry, Moeder’s English is questionable.”