by Francis Ray
She laughed, a bright, happy sound. Good.
“Hardly. Gina and her aunt taught me.”
“Gina?”
“My best friend.” Celeste picked up her fork. “She’s a travel agent. We were freshman roommates at the College of Charleston. Her parents live in Columbia, so her mother’s sister Ophelia, who lives in Charleston, made sure we weren’t starving.” She dug into her coleslaw. “They considered it a travesty that I couldn’t cook and proceeded to teach me.”
He thought of the food he’d thrown out. “I’m sorry about the gumbo.”
“As well you should be,” she told him. “If Aunt Ophelia knew about it, she’d have a few words for you.”
“Ophelia, isn’t that one of Maureen’s friends?”
“And one of the Invincibles.” Celeste sipped her tea. “One or all of them will probably drop by next week. They said they’d give me a week or so.”
“They’re checking on you?”
“In a way, but that’s all right,” Celeste said easily. “All of us want the redesign to go well. You start with the basic elements of floor, ceiling, and walls, but a lot can go wrong in between.” She was certainly self-assured. “I thought I’d see Maureen’s son and his new wife by now.”
“Ryan and Traci called to see if I wanted to come over for dinner. They’re leaving Sunday for a medical symposium in Hawaii. Ryan is one of the speakers,” he said.
Celeste leaned closer. “Traci’s grandfather is sweet on Nettie. They’re so cute together.”
She tempted him to close the distance between them, taste her tempting lips. He resisted. Barely. “Isn’t she in her mid-to late sixties?”
“So? Love is love,” Celeste said adamantly.
“I guess. What do you do when you’re not working?”
“Garden, or at least try to. Then I love a good suspense novel.” She dug into her baked beans. “Edgar Gunn is my favorite author. His real name is Dalton Ramsey. He lives in Charleston.”
“I know. Dalton is a friend of mine,” Alec said casually.
Her fork clattered to the plate. “You know Dalton?”
Alec looked at her excited face and decided it wasn’t jealousy he felt. “He recently married.”
She waved her hand. “Everyone knows that. He married Justine Crandall, the owner of It’s a Mystery bookstore. I missed both of his signings there. How do you know him?”
Since she hadn’t mentioned the scandal surrounding Justine and her adulterous ex-husband, Alec figured she didn’t gossip. She couldn’t have missed it or the subsequent scandal of her ex-husband being caught with a married woman in California a month later. He was persona non grata in the religious community.
“Come on, Alec; give.”
“Dalton is an ex-policeman. His wife and Patrick’s are best friends,” he explained.
“Please tell him I enjoy his books,” she said, and went back to her food.
Alec caught himself before asking if she wanted him to arrange a meeting. Tonight and Sunday was it as far as he was concerned, their first and last dates. “Would you care for dessert?”
“I love their double fudge sundae.”
He signaled for their waitress and ordered. “What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”
“Finish painting the bathroom, then start on retiling the bathroom floor. We’ve already taken up the old tile.”
“Will your assistant be there?” he asked as the waitress placed the dessert with two spoons on the table.
“Yes.” She picked up her spoon. “But you can still come to check on me.”
“Celeste.”
She handed him his spoon. “Let’s share or I’ll eat the whole thing and gain weight in all the wrong places.”
His gaze swept slowly over her. He took the spoon. “You look perfect to me.”
Her head came up.
“I—”
“No.” She held up her hand. “Please don’t take it back.”
There was such a softness in her face, in her eyes, that he would have done anything to please her. Damn. He dug into the dessert. “We’d better finish. We both have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”
“More than you know,” she murmured.
Alec kept eating. Somehow he had to figure out what it was about Celeste that pulled at him. He happened to glance up. She looked straight at him. Down went his head again, but not before he had the answer to his question. Everything.
He was definitely in over his head. Signaling the waitress, he paid the bill, then hustled Celeste to his truck. Strangely, she was silent on the drive to her house. Parking, he walked her up the walk, and then he waited until she opened the door. Light shone from the house and the double brass lanterns on either side of the door.
“Thank you, Alec. You might have been forced into tonight, but I had a good time.”
“I did, too.”
“Good night.” Lifting on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips across his cheek, then slipped inside. He heard the locks click.
The kiss had been sweet, chaste, and left him wanting more. “Celeste, what are you doing to me?”
Turning away, he walked slowly to his car.
Celeste almost hated to see Willie’s small truck parked in Maureen’s driveway the next morning. Alec wouldn’t come to check on her once he knew Willie was there. Celeste still felt a small thrill knowing he’d worried about her even after she’d overstepped. He was a great guy, one she was determined to know better.
Parking behind Willie, Celeste picked up the shopping bag and went inside and straight to the kitchen. It was spotless as usual. Since most men hated washing dishes, it looked like Alec had skipped breakfast again. In her heart, she knew, without opening the refrigerator door to store the food in her shopping bag, there would be no beer. But neither was there milk or juice or any staples.
“You’re not taking care of yourself, Alec, but that’s going to change.” Unloading the bag except for a few items, she closed the refrigerator door and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Good morning, Willie. I’m going out back for a minute,” Celeste called, then waited for her friend to appear.
Willie peered over the balustrade. “To get a closer look, no doubt.”
“I’ll have you know I got that last night,” Celeste said, and walked away. She might have worked hard, but Willie had helped build the business as well. Some customers trusted someone they deemed had more experience, someone seasoned.
Stepping onto the terrace, Celeste followed the paved path to Alec. He had his back to her, hunkered down measuring a length of wood. He had his shirt on, but it was tucked, giving her a very nice view of his butt. She’d always wanted to know the big deal about a man’s backside. It just took the right man for her to learn the answer.
Alec spun. His eyes narrowed, tracked her from her tennis shoe–shod feet to her face.
She barely bit back a sigh. She’d hoped after last night that they’d progressed further. Seemed not. She lifted the bag. “Homemade breakfast, organic carrot juice, utensils, napkin, and wet nap. Too many donuts are bad for you.” Walking over, she set the bag on a stack of lumber.
“There’s also lunch in the fridge with your name on it since I prepared lunch for Willie and me. I also picked up bread, milk, eggs, cooked sausage patties, cold cuts, a bag of salad, and juice for you. The receipt is taped to the egg carton for those items. The cooked food is on me. Have a nice day.” She started to turn.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Your assistant arrived about fifteen minutes ago.”
She wanted to believe she heard disappointment in his voice. “Yes, but as I said, feel free to check on me.”
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. He picked up the bag. “Thanks for everything.”
“My pleasure,” she said, and watched his gaze drop to her lips. She felt a small fission of heat. She moistened her lips. His hungry gaze followed.
“Your assistant is waiting on you.”
“Yes.” She started to leave, then turned back. “I put the names of the two men on a sheet of paper in your bag. Just mention my name. Unfortunately, they’ve done work for people and once it was finished, they weren’t paid what they’d been promised.”
Alec’s face harshened. “Did they report it?
Celeste shook her head. “They didn’t get it in writing, so it couldn’t be proven.”
“I bet you saw to it that they don’t get taken again.”
“I had a friend of mine draw up a simple one-page contract,” Celeste said. “That way, both parties are covered.”
“You care about people,” he said.
“Yes. It’s the only way to really live a happy life.”
“Celeste, daylight is burning,” called a high, thin voice.
Alec lifted a brow. “Your assistant?”
“Afraid so, and a Western fanatic. As you probably noted, Willie likes to use Western slang when we’re working. Enjoy your breakfast.” Celeste walked away wondering if Alec was doing a little backside watching of his own.
She was almost to the terrace doors when her phone rang; she jerked it up immediately at Shakira’s “Whenever, Wherever” ring tone of her sister. “Hola, Yolanda. Are you playing hooky?” she teased, knowing her older sister would never dream of doing such a thing now. However, before her call to the church, there hadn’t been a dare she wouldn’t meet.
“I’m at a counseling workshop,” came the laughing answer. “Registration is going on, and I thought I’d call.”
Opening the terrace doors, Celeste stepped inside. “Work is going fabulous on the current project.”
“I hear a ‘but’ in there.”
Celeste didn’t even hesitate. “A man I’m interested in is fighting being interested in me.”
“We have ten minutes before I have to go back inside. Talk.” Celeste climbed the stairs and talked. Yolanda had a true feel for solving problems. “I think he’s having a difficult time because of what happened.” She told her sister about the shooting.
“His burden of guilt is easy to understand. However, he has to get to the point of knowing the other man chose his fate. He didn’t put the gun in his hand or set him on a path of crime,” Yolanda said, regret and sadness in her voice. “We can’t be responsible for the poor judgment of others.”
Celeste leaned against the banister at the top of the stairs. She’d heard those same words directed to her countless times. “I have a strong feeling that Alec knows that on one level, but not on a deeper, emotional level. Until he does, he’s doing his best to keep me at arm’s length. He’s hurting, and I wish I could help.”
“If you weren’t interested in him, would you still want to help?”
“Yes.”
“Good. And since a male has never ignored you, I can just imagine you’re doing your best to impress upon him what he’s missing.”
It was scary how well her sister knew her. “True, but he doesn’t take care of himself.”
“Celeste, you ever notice how you take certain things for granted, like your car, for instance? You never think about it until it has a flat or won’t start,” Yolanda said. “Or more to the point, how do you feel about the men vying for your attention?”
“Flattered, but more often than not, I just wish they’d go away,” she said honestly, then groaned. “I see your point.”
“This work won’t get done by itself,” Willie said, her hands on her hips.
Celeste held up one finger. With an indulgent shake of her head, the older woman went back inside the master suite. “How did you get so smart?”
“By observing people. They’re asking everyone to come inside. I have to hang up.”
“Gracias, Sis.”
“De nada.”
Replacing her cell, Celeste entered the bedroom, her mind formulating a new plan to attract Alec’s attention.
TEN
Gina was a good person. She respected her parents, loved her children. She went to church, volunteered. She didn’t gossip or harbor ill will against anyone—which was difficult to do considering the way Robert had treated her—so why, Gina asked for the umpteenth time since last night’s confrontation with Gabrielle and her silent treatment this morning, couldn’t she get through the wall her older child had erected?
Gina shuddered as much as the old Taurus when Gabrielle slammed the car door. It flashed through Gina’s mind to get out of the car and give Gabrielle something to really be angry about.
“Breathe. You’re an adult. You have more sense and more control,” Gina repeated until her grip on the steering wheel eased. Chastising Gabrielle in front of half the school as the students loitered outside, waiting until the last possible moment to go inside, would only cause more problems. It could wait until this afternoon when they were home.
Gabrielle didn’t know it, but she’d just added another week to washing the dinner dishes. If she protested, she’d find herself scrubbing the bathroom. Gina had to get control of Gabrielle, and fast.
Shifting the car into gear, Gina pulled away from the school and into the slow-moving traffic in the school zone. The moment the bumper of her car cleared the zone, Gina stepped on the gas.
She was looking forward to helping Max with Journey’s End. It felt good knowing you were appreciated.
Ashton never failed to say he loved her each morning, always did his homework and chores with the first gentle reminder. Gabrielle— Gina pulled her thoughts away as she arrived home. She was thinking good thoughts only and enjoying her day.
Later that morning Gina put on her signal to turn onto the street for Journey’s End. She slowed, admiring the different architecture of the homes on the street but also studying the landscaping. Many had gone for shrubbery, others a combination of flowing shrubs and evergreens, another one had thick beds of rosebushes. There seemed to be no central theme, and since all of the homes were on at least a half acre it gave the owner of the house a great deal of leeway. It also helped solidify Gina’s ideas on how to make Journey’s End stand out.
Slowing down, she turned into the long paved driveway. Once again, Max came out almost immediately. His welcoming smile warmed her. Smiling, she opened the door and stepped out. “Good morning, Max.”
“Good morning, Gina. How are you doing today?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Only another person with a teenager would understand. On second thought, maybe you would,” she said, thinking of how bratty Gabrielle had been the first time they visited here.
“I have lots of friends with children. I’ve heard more than once one of them comment that they’d strangle one if they didn’t love them,” Max commented.
“Exactly. She’s angry because of the div—” She stopped abruptly, flushed. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your problem.”
“No, but I’d like to help,” he said. “It can’t be easy for you.”
“No, it hasn’t been, but it’s nothing that countless other women haven’t gone through.” Her shoulders snapped upright. “If you’ll take the bowl covered by the yellow dish towel, I’ll get the other things.”
He didn’t move. “If you change your mind, I’m here.” Stepping around her, he reached for the bowl. “It smells good. I’m starved.”
Gina grabbed a shopping bag and hurried after him. She wasn’t about to discuss her problems.
“Come on in,” Sophia said, holding the door open for them. “What did you cook, Gina?”
“Spinach salad with grilled shrimp,” she said. “My aunt always said the secret to a really good salad is fresh ingredients, simply prepared and well seasoned.” Gina might be hesitant about other things, but she knew she cooked well.
“I can’t wait,” Max said, placing the chilled bowl on the kitchen counter. “Can I help?”
“No, thanks. Please have a seat. I need to add the fresh peaches and feta.” She pulled two plastic containers from the bag she carried. “This is easy to prepare and so is the raspberry vinaigrette dressing
.”
“If you say so,” Sophia said, deadpan.
Gina found herself laughing at the older woman. She handed her the containers. “Open, dump, mix.”
Sophia stared at the containers for a full five seconds, then did as told. “I hope I didn’t ruin it.”
Since Sophia and Max both were frowning at the salad, Gina didn’t laugh this time. Instead she took the bread sticks from the foil and placed them on the table. Next came a bowl of cheese tortellini tossed with fresh basil and grape tomatoes. “You can use Italian dressing or the vinaigrette.”
“Let’s dig in,” Max said, holding her chair.
“Thank you.” Gina quickly took her seat, then bowed her head when Max this time blessed the food. She couldn’t remember a time Robert had thanked anyone for anything. She lifted her head and found Max, a smile on his face, patiently holding the salad out to her.
She flushed and quickly served herself, then handed the crystal bowl, one of her best and a wedding present from her sister, to his aunt. “If I had time I would have made a serving bowl from bread stick dough.”
Max and Sophia both just stared at her. She could feel herself start to withdraw inside. Until Max said, “Aunt Sophia, I’ve discovered a national treasure.”
He said it with such awe and respect that Gina didn’t know how to respond.
“I’ll say.” Sophia bit into her salad. “I couldn’t even ruin this delicious salad, and the pasta is scrumptious.”
“I told you,” Gina said.
“You’ve made a believer out of both of us.” Max chewed, savored. “You’ve ruined me for frozen dinners.”
Gina preened. “I love cooking, but Gabrielle and Ashton both are at picky stages. They’d turn their noses up at this.”
Max and his aunt shared a look. “If we add cooking to your duties, well paid of course, would you run from here screaming that we’re overworking you?”
More money, yes, but being valued was priceless. Gina picked up her bread stick. “Let’s finish lunch and talk.”
Max hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he’d discovered a national treasure. Gina might have been shy at first, but the more they worked together, the more her confidence seemed to grow. He’d noticed that she no longer got that weary look in her eyes as if waiting for him to tear her idea apart when she made a suggestion.