by Meier, Susan
“I know you will.”
She left for the hospital buoyed with enthusiasm. Not only had she turned down Finn’s offer to buy McDermott’s, but she’d turned down drinks. Hadn’t succumbed to that smile, or the tingle of something that breezed across her skin every time he was within ten feet. Or those pretty blue eyes. The strength she’d displayed saturated her with a pleasure so strong it should have been against the law. But it also filled her with confidence.
When she got to her dad’s room, he was sitting up, holding the television remote, flipping through the morning news.
“Ever since they fired that Ann girl from Today, I can’t stand to watch that show.”
She kissed his cheek. “Me neither.”
“So what’s up?”
She took a seat on the chair by his bed. “I told Finn last night I wouldn’t sell McDermott’s to him.”
His dark brown eyes filled with happiness. “Really? Finn wanted to buy it, but you’re going to run it instead?”
She ignored the fact that he seemed to have forgotten she’d told him about Finn’s offer, and that he’d been the one who desperately wanted her to run McDermott’s. “Yes. But I have no illusions that it’s going to be easy. Finn says he’s been stealing your customers for six months. With you being sick, especially with you in a personal care facility, people are going to think we’re closed. We have to do something to let them know that’s not true, and we have to do it as soon as we can.”
“Okay. So what you’re saying is we need to get the word out that you’re running the place?”
“No.” She winced. “Dad, I’m in advertising. Trust me when I tell you that no one wants to hear about me. Everybody wants to hear about you. How you’re doing, that sort of thing. And once we tell them you’re not running the place, they may reject me.”
He gaped at her. “Seriously? You think that?”
She didn’t bother reminding him she’d left Harmony Hills because she’d been insulted and hurt by the way the church ladies gossiped about her mom, and that she’d made those feelings known—a few times. If Alzheimer’s made him forget things, those were two good things to forget.
She rose and plumped his pillows. “We have to take the focus off me.”
“You mean put it on the staff?”
Oh, yeah. She could just see how promoting beautician Barbara Beth would draw in the customers.
“No. We have to think of something else. Something that will draw customers to us. And a venue to get our message out—like a newspaper ad.”
He winced. “I don’t like ads. I think they’re crass.”
“We’ve got to do something.”
“I have brochures.”
“You do?”
“Sure. But no one ever gets one until they come in with a loved one who needs our services.”
She gave herself a second to interpret the Dad-speak. “Oh, you mean after the fact. After they’re already hiring you because a loved one has died.”
“Yes.”
“So we have to figure out a way to get the brochures into the hands of—”
“Everybody. Where can we give them to everybody?”
Her first thought was O’Riley’s grocery store, but that wouldn’t work. Half of Harmony Hills didn’t shop at O’Riley’s. Ever since Richard Hyatt, Finn’s maternal grandfather, won the grocery store from Sean O’Riley in a poker game, O’Riley friends and family wouldn’t even walk on the same side of the street with Conrad Hyatt. Finn’s family had avoided the backlash from that just by being Donovans. Jeb Donovan’s perfect little unit…
Which Finn had told her wasn’t so perfect.
She shook her head to clear it. That was irrelevant…and a lie. Told by a seventeen-year-old kid who’d used sex to psych her out.
“What if you gave them out with subs when the Catholic church has its monthly sub sale?”
Glad to be drawn away from thinking about Finn, she didn’t even try to swallow her giggle. “You believe a newspaper ad is crass, but you want to give out brochures for a funeral home with lunch?” But as she said those words, another idea dawned. “What if we put those brochures on car windshields at church services?”
Her dad brightened. “That’s perfect. There are five churches in town. Almost everybody goes to one of them.”
She tucked in his blankets, knowing sliding brochures on car windshields was a good idea but far from perfect. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
He beamed at her. “You’re gonna nail this.” He yawned. “In another few months, McDermott’s will be back to full throttle. Hey, did I tell you that Finn Donovan tried to buy the place from me once?”
She took a step back. His doctor had told her that he’d forget things and repeat himself. She’d succeeded in not reacting to most of the comments he made that weren’t quite right, but that one had been so obvious it threw her. Reminded her that her dad was sick—really sick—with something most of the medical community barely understood. And it underscored the fact that she had to support him. Now. Not six months from now, but now. She had to get business flowing to McDermott’s immediately.
Mary Kiel walked in with that morning’s meds. “Hey, Ellie.” She faced Ellie’s dad and smiled affectionately. “And good morning to you, Mark.”
A resident of Harmony Hills, Mary knew Ellie’s dad very well. Actually, nearly everybody knew her dad well. And most of them would be kind to him the way Mary was.
“Is this my daily poison?”
She laughed. “This is the stuff that makes it so that you can keep talking to your daughter.”
He glanced lovingly at Ellie. “Then I take it happily.” He swallowed his meds and gave back the little plastic cup.
Mary patted his arm. “We’re going to be sorry to see you leave us at the end of the week.” She looked at Ellie. “Have you made arrangements with a personal care facility?”
“I have an appointment today to check out Harmony Hills Hideaway.”
Mary gasped. “Fancy.”
“Nothing but the best for my dad.”
She gave Mark another fond smile. “Exactly.”
And that’s when the lightbulb lit in Ellie’s head.
Her father might already have brochures printed for the funeral home, but the best-selling point for her father’s business wasn’t the business. It was her father. He’d devoted his life to making the worst time in everyone else’s lives as stress-free as possible. Now he needed them, and she’d bet her career that if she did this right, they’d rally behind him and support him.
She spent the afternoon with the director for Harmony Hills Hideaway, a stupid name for a beautiful facility tucked in a forest just outside of town. Tidy suites had big windows, flat-screen TVs, and seating areas to visit with company. She saw the dining hall, walked through the clean kitchen, read the qualifications of the nursing staff and on-call doctors, and, without qualm or hesitation, signed the contract for them to care for her dad.
When she returned to McDermott’s, she went straight to the office to look for the brochures. Eventually, she found a box of them in the closet. The glossy flyer showed McDermott’s in the glory days back in the nineties—sunny yellow with white shutters and a warm, welcoming front porch. Beneath the pictures were bullet points and paragraphs meant to give comfort.
Liking the brochures but knowing they needed one little tweak, she sat on her dad’s big office chair. She scanned the brochure into the graphics program and went to work.
…
The following Sunday, Finn flicked the shower faucet knob to stop the water. He stepped out, toweled off, and jumped into jeans and a T-shirt. Barefoot, he padded downstairs, entering the kitchen just as the back door opened.
“Hey, Mom. How was church?”
“Same.” She tossed her purse and sweater on the counter beside the door. A colorful paper fluttered to the floor.
“I hope you don’t mind that I took your little car, the green one you never drive.”
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“Of course you can use anything you want.”
“Good.” She bent and picked up the paper. “You know we should probably do something like this for your business, too.”
She handed him a full-color glossy flyer. He glanced down and his eyes widened. “Where did you get this?”
“I think that McDermott girl put them on car windshields while we were at church.”
“You think?”
“I only saw a quick glimpse of her, when I came out of church. She was probably on her way to the Baptist service. If she’s smart she’ll have hit every church in town this morning.”
He gaped at his mom, then glanced at the flyer again. Beautifully, professionally done with a gorgeous picture of the old Victorian house adorning the front. He flipped over the flyer and saw the personal note from Ellie.
“As most of you are aware, my father has fallen ill. I don’t know what his care will cost over the next few years, but I want him to be in the best facility possible. I’m sure you all do too. So I’m asking you to support McDermott’s so we can do right by my father. At one time or another, he’s taken care of everyone in this town. Now it’s our turn to repay him.”
“Shit. Damn. Hell!” He’d left her alone the past few days, not just to give them both a chance to cool down, but also to let her see she was probably going to fail. He pictured her sitting at the desk, tapping her pencil, waiting for the phone to ring. Instead, she’d created a brochure.
His mother frowned. “I thought it was very tasteful. Honest.” She grimaced. “Poor Mark.”
He tossed the brochure to the table. “That’s just the point! It is tasteful and honest, and it evokes tons of sympathy, but they’re our competition.”
She grimaced again. “I know.”
“And everybody who likes her dad is going to go racing over.”
“Only if someone in their family dies, sweetie.”
He flicked the brochure across the table. “Crap.” Then, on second thought, he strode over and scooped it up again. He slid his feet into flip-flops, grabbed the Range Rover keys, and pounded into the garage.
Ten minutes later, he jumped out of his SUV and bounded up the walk to McDermott’s. He wanted to hammer on Ellie’s door, but instead, he rang the bell and squeezed his eyes shut as a soft strain of classical music played. Even their damned doorbell was classy.
When no one answered, he hit the bell again. And again. And again. If only because he was mad.
Finally the door opened, and he faced narrow-eyed Ellie. In a different tank top and tight jeans that clung to her rounded hips, she was virtually edible. His heart chugged to a stop. His anger evaporated.
“What do you want?”
What do I want? Sheesh. With her in that tank top, he wanted what he’d wanted this time last week—the chance to devour her. She was one of those unusual women who dripped sexiness even with cute short curly hair and wide, innocent eyes.
Or maybe he just saw her as sexy because he knew how soft she was, how she melted under his touch, how it felt to have her hands on him—
The paper in his hand picked up the sun and glinted at him, reminding him why he’d come to her house.
He cursed himself for being an idiot. As Devon had said, this needed to be about business. Nothing personal. He shook the brochure at her. “What the hell is this?”
One of her eyebrows arched. “Good advertising?”
“You’re begging people to use your mortuary!”
“Yeah, so?”
“So how the hell am I supposed to compete with that?”
“I’m hoping you can’t.”
He raised his hand as if to make a point, then realized he didn’t have one. Sunday night at the American Legion, he’d been telling Devon he could beat her, telling himself he was a Rottweiler and she was a poodle, yet in one brochure she’d turned the tables?
It was just like middle school when she’d made the volcano that spewed fake lava, and he’d done the crop rotation project that everybody thought was boring.
Of course, after that, she’d never beaten him at a science fair again. He’d figure this out too.
“Okay. You want a fight. You’ll get a fight.”
“I don’t want a fight. I just want to make sure I get my fair share of the business.”
“Right.”
She laughed. “Oh, I see what’s going on.” She poked her finger at him. “This isn’t about me. This is about you. You don’t like it when I beat you.”
He nearly caught her finger, but remembered how soft her fingers were and swallowed hard. “We’ll see if you beat me. You’re not the only one who needs the money. And you’re not the only one with business smarts.”
She stepped into his personal space. “Oh, yeah? What are you going to do?”
Right at that very second, if she were a normal girl, he would have kissed her. He would have kissed her because he was attracted to her. He would have kissed her to shut her up. He would have kissed her because that’s what his body was telling him to do.
When he didn’t answer, she took another step closer.
Now she wasn’t merely in his personal space—their bodies were virtually touching. He could smell her shampoo, feel waves of femininity drifting from her, awakening his hormones.
As if she’d finally figured out what she’d done, she looked up and caught his gaze, her brown eyes wide and confused. Their gazes stayed locked. Seconds ticked off the clock. The urge to kiss her shifted from hot and demanding to something he couldn’t quite identify. This woman who’d always been a thorn in his side had also been the first person to listen when he talked about his dad. And now with her dad sick, part of him wanted to soothe her, to comfort her with a warm kiss that would melt both of their bones.
Oh, great. Thinking about sleeping with her he could handle. But soothing her?
That was crazy.
Stupid.
What the hell was he thinking?
He sucked in a breath, stepped back, turned, and walked away.
Chapter Six
Ellie watched Finn stride down the sidewalk, her pulse hammering in her throat.
Had he just wanted to kiss her?
Right before he’d spun away, she could swear he was fighting to keep himself from kissing her.
All these years she’d thought their tryst in his car had been nothing but a conquest to him, a way to befuddle her so much she’d stumble in the calculus exam, but this morning she swore she’d seen real lust in his eyes.
She sighed with disgust at herself. Really? That was her priority today? They were competing for business. She had a sick dad. And she was standing by her open door like a loon, wondering whether or not he wanted to kiss her?
Turning to go up the stairs to her apartment, she tried to get it out of her head, but that look in his eyes seemed to be burned into her brain. It was hungry.
Predatory.
A shiver ran through her. The things that look made her feel were definitely sinful—
She frowned. No. Not sinful. Delicious.
Really delicious. As in…right, normal, supposed-to-happen, the way she’d felt the night before the calc exam.
The memory of sitting in that old Buick, talking with Finn like friends for hours, tiptoed back to her. Then he’d kissed her, long and slow. Not like a horny, hurried teenager, but like somebody who truly cared for her…
Shimmery warmth coursed through her.
She stifled a scream as she searched for her purse. What the devil was she thinking about this for? If he’d truly cared about her, he would have talked to her the next day. Not avoided her like the plague. The kid had used her. For sex. To psych her out. He’d lied to soften her toward him and then he’d moved in for the kill. He did not “like” her.
Though it took the strength of Samson, she wouldn’t let herself think about Finn on the drive to Harmony Hills Hideaway.
Eager to see her dad and feel normal again, she raced into his room, but he didn�
�t recognize her. She couldn’t tell him about the brochures. They couldn’t talk about anything personal. She just made small talk, as if she were a stranger, until her dad fell asleep. Then she watched two hours of TV, hoping he’d awaken and know her, but he didn’t. Worse, no forwarded calls from McDermott’s came to her cell phone. She wondered if the brochure that had gotten Finn so angry had actually done any good.
Her phone didn’t ring.
Her brochures hadn’t worked.
Her dad didn’t know her.
And she was now imagining lust in Finn’s eyes.
Leaving her dad’s little suite, she reminded herself it had been a very long week. Working long distance was getting difficult, but she also needed a break. A few days in Pittsburgh would remind her of her real life, and show her that she didn’t need to be thinking about Finn.
She pulled her silent cell phone from her jeans pocket and called Dan.
“What can I do you for?”
She laughed. His comment wasn’t all that funny, but she needed a favor. “I’m going to Pittsburgh tomorrow morning.”
“O-kay.”
The word was more of a question. Probably Dan couldn’t understand why she’d feel the need to tell him. She bit her bottom lip. “I want to stay a few days to get caught up on my work, but without me there, McDermott’s will look deserted and that’s not good. Would it be possible for you to sit in the office for a few hours every day in case somebody comes by?”
He sucked in a breath as if he’s just been crowned Miss America. “I’d be happy to. Honored.”
“Great.” A hundred-pound weight lifted from her shoulders. Guilt tried to replace it, but she held it off with the reminder that the Tidy Whitiez money was every bit as important to her father’s care as the funeral home income. “We’ll pay you, of course. And I’ll be home on Wednesday night.” She grimaced. “Unless I have to come back sooner because somebody dies.”
Dan said, “Here’s hoping.”
She grimaced again. She really hated that part of the business.
But at least she was getting away from Finn. Not just the distraction of his good looks and fake charm, but their exhausting competition. Hopefully, by the time she returned, he wouldn’t be angry over her brochures anymore, and people would also think of her instead of him when they lost a loved one.