“But that’s because they didn’t have that technology back then...” Fiona trailed off as her friends crossed their arms and shook their heads at the same time.
“Do I have to apologize in person?”
At that, Daisy and Susan turned to continue walking, each grabbing one of Fiona’s arms. “Come on,” Susan said. “We’ll help you figure out what to say.”
* * *
The next afternoon, Eduardo noticed two of the younger workers putting equipment away without doing the daily maintenance.
It would be easier to finish the jobs himself, but then the new guys wouldn’t learn. “Tommy. Duke.” He gestured toward the machinery the men had just put away. “You’re not done.”
“Man, don’t you ever lighten up?” Duke grumbled good-naturedly as he grabbed a cloth and knelt beside the mower’s grassy blades.
“He’s got nothing else to do,” Tommy joked. “He needs a social life. Good work there, my man,” he added to Duke.
“That skid-steer loader you brought in needs its fluid levels checked,” Eduardo said mildly.
“Sorry, man.” Tommy turned toward the small vehicle and started the daily inspection. “I’m in a hurry. I’ve got to go get cleaned up and take my woman out on the town.”
“On a Tuesday?”
“Anniversary,” Tommy explained. “My aunt’s taking the kids.”
A warm band tightened around Eduardo’s heart. He remembered the days when he’d scrambled to get a sitter, had scrimped and saved to take Elizabeth out for a special occasion. She’d argued against the expense, but she’d always given in and they’d had fun, usually ending the evening with dancing.
“Need the place swept out?” Tommy asked Eduardo.
“Nah, go on. Have fun. I’ll finish up.”
“Thanks!”
As the two men left, a text message buzzed, and Eduardo pulled his phone out of his pocket.
It’s Fiona. Can you meet me at the Chatterbox?
Instead of answering, he started pushing a broom across the floor of the storage shed. What did she want to talk to him about? If she wanted to see the estimate on her landscaping job—even after she’d booted him out of her home—he supposed he should give it. But at the café? Why not at her house?
He pushed debris into a heap and looked for a dustpan. Another message buzzed.
My treat. I want to apologize.
No need to apologize, he texted back. But I can meet you and give you your estimate if you’d like.
Great. Half an hour?
See you there.
He pocketed his phone and tamped down the small surge of excitement in his chest. He liked Fiona, found her attractive, if the truth be told, but he wasn’t sure about renting her carriage house. What if she decided to use it as an office again? Or decided to kick them out for reasons he couldn’t understand, as she’d done the other night?
On the other hand, the situation at their little motel was deteriorating. After Diego and Sofia had spent several noisy hours kicking around a soccer ball outside yesterday, the manager had let Eduardo know that they couldn’t stay much longer. “We just aren’t set up for kids,” the man had said apologetically. “Couple more days, fine, but I’d like to see you move on soon.”
Which meant he needed to find another place today or tomorrow; easier said than done in the limited rental market of Rescue River.
Again, the thought of Fiona’s carriage house came to mind.
Thirty minutes and one speed-shower later, Eduardo reached the Chatterbox. The place wasn’t crowded midafternoon, and Fiona wasn’t there yet.
He sat down at a table where he could watch the door, waving to a few coworkers from Hinton who were at the counter eating.
A moment later, Fiona flew into the restaurant, her purse swinging. He stood and she hurried over. “I’m sorry I was late!”
He glanced at the clock above the door as he moved to pull out her chair. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Hinton workers nudging each other. One of them gave Eduardo a thumbs-up.
Heat rose in the back of his neck as he sat down across from her. “You’re not late. I was early. Are you hungry?”
“I am, but I’m not going to get anything. Just coffee. You go ahead, though. It’s my treat.”
Not in this universe.
“Are you ready to order?” Their waiter arrived with an order pad.
“Coffee for both of us, and a piece of cherry pie for me,” Eduardo said.
“Ice cream?”
“Absolutely,” he said and looked at Fiona. “You’re sure you don’t want to join me?”
She bit her lip. “Well... No. No, thank you.”
After their server walked away, Eduardo pulled out his tablet. “I have your estimate right here.”
“Wait.” Fiona touched his arm and then pulled her hand back. “I invited you here so I could apologize. I’m sorry I was so rude when you were at my house the other day.”
“No need to apologize. We all have bad days.” The question was did she make a practice of it? If she did, he probably shouldn’t rely on renting her place.
“I was having a difficult conversation with my mother,” she went on, “but that’s no excuse. It wasn’t your fault.”
Ah. Mother-daughter issues. “No problem. Don’t give it another thought. Should we talk about the estimate?”
“Yes, and the carriage house rental, too.”
“Okay, sure.” But he wasn’t sure. He didn’t think he wanted to move his family onto Fiona’s property. She was a lovely lady, and kind, but was she reliable?
Unfortunately, though, he had no viable alternative.
He pulled out the tablet computer and started explaining his estimate for the landscaping job, crunching numbers, talking measurements, offering possibilities and alternatives based on price. Usually, the client was right with him on this kind of thing, but Fiona didn’t seem to be paying attention. Was it because she was so wealthy she didn’t care what she spent? Or was she not liking what he was proposing?
The third time she spaced out, he confronted her. “Look, would you rather I just give you the bottom line? Or are you uninterested? If you don’t want to hire me, you can say it right out.”
“Oh, no, it’s not that!” Her hands twisted together in a washing motion. “I’m sorry, Eduardo. I just...” She trailed off.
“I’m in business. I know I’m not right for every potential client.”
“I’m very interested. I’m just not good with numbers.” She looked embarrassed.
Funny, he hadn’t pegged Fiona as the ditzy careless type, but that was how she was acting. “No problem,” he lied. He started from the beginning and went through it again, more slowly.
All the same, he lost her.
Something tickled at his brain, and before he could stop himself, he blurted it out. “Do you have something like dyslexia?”
“No!” She looked shocked. “Why would you even say that?”
“Sorry, crazy idea. It’s just...” He trailed off and then shook his head. “I’m out of line. I shouldn’t have said anything. I apologize.”
She drew in a breath and visibly composed herself. “It’s okay.”
But it clearly wasn’t, so he blundered on. “I just noticed... You’re obviously a smart woman. But talking to you about math is a little bit like talking to my son, Diego, about letters and reading. He has dyslexia.”
She let out a short harsh laugh. “I wish there was that kind of explanation for my weaknesses.”
Compassion squeezed his heart as he studied her. She was wealthy and carefree on the surface, but there were layers upon layers to uncover in her, that much was clear.
Also, it was clear that he was a little too interested in exploring those layers.
“Here you go, sir.” The wai
ter placed a large piece of cherry pie in front of him. Gooey, rich with fruit, the ice cream melting down the sides of the large triangle.
Fiona eyed it. “Wow, that looks delicious.”
“Want a taste?” Without waiting for an answer, he cut her a small slice and slid it onto her saucer.
“I shouldn’t, but...twist my arm.” She took a tiny bite and her eyes widened. “This is fabulous!”
He felt absurdly happy to have given her something that brought her pleasure, however small.
“Let me look at the figures while you eat,” she said. “Maybe I can get it through my thick skull.”
He scrolled to the cover sheet and handed her the tablet. “That’s the overview of what I’d recommend. I should’ve started with that, anyway, rather than bombarding you with a million details and choices.”
She took another tiny bite of pie and smiled. “So good. Thank you.” And then she focused on the tablet, frowning, asking the occasional question.
As he finished his pie, she nodded decisively. “I like what you’ve recommended. I’d be interested in hiring you if you’re still willing.”
“I’m willing and honored.” Then his neck heated. Honored? That wasn’t the kind of thing he’d normally say to a new client.
An elderly couple who’d been sitting at a table in the corner of the restaurant stood and headed toward the door. The white-haired woman used a walker, and the African American man who followed her held her shoulder. And they seemed to be arguing.
“Is that Mr. Love from the hardware store?” Eduardo asked, glad for a change of topic.
Fiona twisted to see, and then her face broke out in a smile. “Yes, and he’s with Miss Minnie Falcon. I wonder...” She trailed off as the couple neared.
“I don’t want to hear one more word about it,” the woman said.
“Now, Minnie, don’t shut me down cold. Hear me out.”
Fiona stood and reached out a hand as the older couple started to pass by. “Miss Minnie. Mr. Love. It’s nice to see you.”
Eduardo stood, too, interested to see that Fiona was acquainted with the pair. He was grasping for signs that she was a good person to work for and rent from, and he needed to weigh the situation carefully. His kids deserved that.
“Well, well, is that Miss Fiona Farmingham?” Mr. Love asked.
“Yes, it is, and I’m with Eduardo Delgado, who works at Hinton. Do you both know him?”
“I certainly do,” Mr. Love said. “I believe you stopped in two weeks ago for some crabgrass treatment, didn’t you?”
“I’m impressed that you remember.” Eduardo stepped closer, which brought him close enough to Fiona to notice that she was wearing perfume.
“Not all senior citizens are forgetful,” the older woman said, her voice tart.
“Now, now, Minnie,” Mr. Love soothed. “That’s not what the young man meant.”
“I was just surprised he remembered my order better than I did when he has so many customers,” Eduardo said truthfully.
“Miss Minnie, have you met Eduardo Delgado?” Fiona asked, the tiniest hint of a smile in her voice. “He works at Hinton Enterprises.”
“And he does some work at the Senior Towers. We’ve met,” Miss Minnie said, “but the two of us can’t stop to chat. We’ve seen quite enough of each other today, and our ride is waiting outside.”
Mr. Love grasped Fiona’s hand, then Eduardo’s, smiling apologetically as Miss Minnie hurried him away.
Fiona sat back down, watching the two seniors depart. “I guess the marriage proposal didn’t go well.”
“They’re contemplating marriage?” Wow. Amazing that two elderly people had that much faith in the future.
“Love is ageless, or so they say.” She turned back to face him. “I don’t suppose you were able to look at my carriage house the other day.”
“I did take a look. It seems like a great place.” He tried to keep his ambivalence from showing in his voice.
“It’s cute. I love the front porch.” She shrugged. “It’s not much. It’s small, but it’s solid and clean.”
“You’d mentioned before that you were using it for your business. Won’t you need it for that again? Are you sure you want a tenant?”
“I might give entrepreneurship another go if...well, if I can get someone to help with the numbers part.” She laughed self-deprecatingly, gesturing toward the tablet that had confused her. “But that won’t happen for months. If ever.”
“Then...I think we’ll give the place a try.”
“Great!” She smiled at him. “You can move in anytime. We’ll deal with the lease then.”
That smile was dazzling. Way too dazzling. “I have references if you’d like to check them.”
She waved a hand. “I don’t need references. I know you.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know whether I pay my bills.”
She blushed. “I’m really not much of a businesswoman, am I?”
“Nothing wrong with being trusting.”
Her expression darkened. “Believe me, there is.”
The stories he’d heard about her husband came immediately to mind. How could a man have two separate families, deceiving both of them? What a jerk. Hard to fathom anyone so lacking in honor and morals.
The waiter brought their check, and Eduardo took it and reached for his wallet.
“I’ll take that,” she said. “It’s on me.” She fumbled in her purse.
“Fiona, I’m paying.”
“No, really, it’s no problem. I have plenty—”
Heat rose up the back of his neck. “I may not be at your level of affluence,” he gritted out, “but I’m not going to let a lady pay the check.” He extracted a bill and handed it to the server.
They both watched him walk away, not looking at each other.
“I’m sorry, Eduardo,” she said after a moment, quietly. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
And of course, she hadn’t. It was just that he needed to keep in mind their relationship: landlord/tenant. Employer/employee. They lived on different planets, economically speaking.
And even if that barrier hadn’t existed, he needed to remember how vulnerable Fiona was. She’d been hurt badly. She didn’t need any more problems in her life.
Especially not a problem like him. Because despite her wealth—yeah, and her beauty, too—Fiona seemed like a woman who needed protection and support. And if he hadn’t been able to provide that to Elizabeth, he definitely couldn’t provide it to Fiona and her four kids.
Chapter Four
“Hey, Mom, they’re here already!” Ryan burst into the kitchen, where Fiona was making Saturday-morning pancakes. “And they’re carrying stuff inside. Can we help them move in?”
Maya slid off her chair and headed toward the window. Lauren shoved away her plate. “Can we, Mom?”
Fiona glanced up at the clock. Eight o’clock, a full hour before she’d expected Eduardo and his mover-friends to arrive. Briefly, she regretted her makeup-free face, ancient concert T-shirt and ripped jeans.
She went to stand behind Maya, looking out into the sunny yard. Sure enough, a midsize rental truck sat in front of the carriage house beside Eduardo’s overloaded pickup. A couple of unfamiliar cars were parked along the edge of the alley road, and six or seven people milled around, along with Sofia and Diego.
Two men opened the back of the rental truck while another fumbled with the hinges of the carriage house’s front door. Eduardo climbed into the back of the truck, then emerged a moment later holding a long metal ramp. He set it down, leaped nimbly to the ground and moved it so it made a walkway from the back of the truck. Diego and Sofia pulled boxes from the piled-high back of Eduardo’s pickup.
Standing easily a head taller than the other men, Eduardo called out instructions as he moved to take a t
oo-heavy box from Diego and steady a tall plant Sofia was carrying.
Even from here, Fiona could see his wide smile. Her mouth suddenly felt dry.
“Can we go out, Mom?” Now all three of her older kids clustered around the window.
Poppy banged her sippy cup on the table and pointed at her empty plate. “More pancakes first!”
Fiona clapped her hands. “Back to your seats, everyone.” She hurried to the stove to flip pancakes that had gotten just a shade too brown. “We’ll give the Delgados a chance to get started moving in. Once we’ve finished breakfast...”
The kids all started shoveling pancakes into their mouths.
“...and cleaned up, we’ll stroll over there and see how they’re doing. It looks like they have a lot of helpers, so maybe Sofia and Diego could come play here while the men work.” She brought the last plate of pancakes to the table and sat down. She considered pouring herself a bowl of low-calorie cereal, but the pancakes smelled way too good.
Half an hour later, she followed the kids over to the carriage house. As they greeted Sofia and Diego, Eduardo approached her. Though the morning was still cool, sweat had gathered on his brow.
“We got started early,” he said. “Hope we didn’t wake you guys up. Some of the men have to work this afternoon.”
“No, it’s fine. We were up,” she said. “In fact, the kids were ready to come out and offer their assistance the minute you pulled up. It’s exciting for them.”
“For us, too.”
Diego and Ryan dodged in front of a pair of guys lifting a couch, and both Fiona and Eduardo spoke simultaneously with words of caution.
“Hey, careful there.”
“Stay out of the men’s way.”
The men set the couch down in front of the carriage house’s little porch and conferred, pointing at the door, obviously discussing how to get the couch inside.
“Come over here and meet my buddies,” Eduardo said and started over toward the two men.
Fiona followed, feeling self-conscious in her Saturday-morning finest. She’d considered changing into better clothes, but that would have evoked notice from her kids. And she had to get used to the idea of being herself around Eduardo, who was, after all, renting her carriage house, not taking her out on a fancy date.
A Family for Easter Page 4