by J. L. Monro
The Avoidance of Love
The Daniels Sisters Series, Book 2
Copyright © 2015 by J.L. Monro
All rights reserved.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Formatting: Champagne Formats
Title Page
The Avoidance of Love
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Epilogue
The Complications of Love
Acknowledgements
“NO, GRANDDAD, NOT like that. You have to hold your pinky finger up, so you’re doing it right.” I like having tea parties with Granddad, but he doesn’t have very good table manners. It was my birthday last month and now that I’m six years old I know how to throw the best tea parties.
“Sorry, Mara, is that better?” Granddad’s finger looks a little funny, like a hook, but at least it’s up. I come here every Sunday and he still hasn’t perfected it. I wonder if he’s practicing like I taught him. I’ve been here all week, and we’ve had lots of princess parties. Tara and Lana sometimes have tea with us, but Lana wants to have coffee instead of tea. She doesn’t even know what coffee is. Silly girl! Tara doesn’t like tea or coffee, but she plays right. She knows how to lift her pinky. Dana stays with Grandma. She’s still a baby. I hope she’s good at tea parties when she’s old enough.
Mummy and Daddy have gone to Devon for the week to have some special time together for their anniversary. Mummy told me that when she goes away, I’m in charge; I have to look after my sisters because I’m the oldest, and I have to set a good example. It’s hard sometimes because when Lana is being silly, I really want to pinch her. I don’t though because that would be wrong.
When Mummy comes back, she said we could go to the big fabric store where she works. I can pick out any material I want, and she’ll make dresses for my sisters and me. She gets to go to lots of fabric stores around the world to make pretty furniture for people. When I’m older, she said she’s going to take me to Paris with her.
We’re all packed up and ready to go. I have school in the morning, so I have to go to bed early. Daddy says that little girls need their beauty sleep so they wake up not only beautiful, but really smart, too. At school, George Radford keeps saying I’m a cheater because I get the best marks. If he says it again this week, I’m going to make him eat mud. Again!
Grandma called upstairs. “Mara, have you picked up all your toys as I asked you to? Your Mum and Dad will be here soon to take you home.”
“Yes, Grandma. And I picked up Tara and Lana’s toys, too.” I always pick up their toys. I help them because they’re little.
The doorbell rang. Granddad got Grandma a doorbell that plays Close To You by The Carpenters. I don’t know who they are, but he says it’s one of her favorite songs. Mummy’s early, so I’m not ready yet, but I don’t care; I missed her and Daddy lots.
I run downstairs to jump into Daddy’s arms so he can swing me up in the air. He calls me ‘candy floss’ because I have pink cheeks, and when he tosses me up in the sky, he says I weigh as much as air. Then he tickles me until I can’t breathe.
It’s not Daddy at the door; it’s a Policeman and a Police lady. I wonder why they’re here.
“Good Evening, Mrs. Gordon. We need to speak with you if you don’t mind. Would you mind if we came in?” The Police lady is very big. I thought they all had to be slim so that they can chase bad people. She must not be able to run very far. She doesn’t look very nice either. Her face is all wrinkly, and she looks miserable, like Great-Aunt Mabel. Granddad says that she’s a miserable old cow, and that’s why she has four cats; they don’t understand what a bore she is. The Policeman is very tall and young. He looks even younger than Daddy does. He’s taken his hat off now. He has blond hair and very blue eyes, not green like mine. He sees me behind Grandma’s legs.
“I think it’s best if the little one goes to another room, Mrs. Gordon, while we talk.” I frowned at him. I might be small, but I’m not silly.
“Oh. All right then. Please, come in. If you’ll just go on into the living room, officer, I’ll just take Mara upstairs. I’ll be with you shortly.” Grandma shut the door and showed them to the living room then took my hand to lead me upstairs. She takes me into the bedroom with Granddad.
“Who was at the door, Anna?”
“Two police officers.” Grandma looked worried.
“It’s ok, Grandma. Don’t worry. You’re a good person; they won’t arrest you.” She smiled at me but Granddad’s not smiling.
“Mara, stay up here and keep an eye on your sisters. I’m going to go downstairs with your Grandma to talk to the officers. You be a good girl now, darling.” Granddad pulled my pigtail, took Grandma by the hand, and left the room.
I really wanted to be a good girl and stay upstairs, but I really, really wanted to know what the police officers wanted. Lana and Tara were playing very nicely. I could just sneak downstairs for a second just to have a quick listen and then come back upstairs. That would be very wrong though. Daddy says a princess never eavesdrops. I won’t listen in for long. Just long enough to know what it is they’re talking about.
I crept out on to the landing and down some of the stairs, making sure that I avoided the floorboards that creaked. I could see into the living room now. They all had their backs to me so they wouldn’t know I was there. The policeman was talking.
“I’m very sorry to inform you both that your daughter and Mr. Daniels were involved in a car crash this evening. It appears that the driver of the other vehicle, a truck, fell asleep at the wheel. We will know more when our investigation is complete. I am afraid they both died on impact. There was nothing anyone could do.”
I saw Grandma turn to Granddad, and she was crying very loudly. I didn’t
feel very well and then I was sick. I wanted to call out for Mummy and Daddy but I knew they were never going to come.
I JACK-KNIFED UPRIGHT in bed. As usual, I was sweating and my hair was plastered to my forehead. For fuck sake! I’m thirty-one. You would think at some point I would stop having nightmares about the night my parents died twenty-five years ago. I couldn’t do anything about it then, and I sure as hell can’t do anything about it now. It’s life; shit happens. It happened to my sisters and me, it definitely fucking happened. However, life goes on.
I rolled over to look at my alarm clock. At 5 a.m., I could either stay in bed another hour, or I could get up and get the day started. I know there’s plenty of work on my desk that no one else will do if I just lay here. Ungracefully, I kicked the covers off me and onto the floor, so I wouldn’t be tempted to turn over and go back to sleep.
I looked at the wall opposite my bed and smiled. Post-it notes and pictures torn out of magazines covered the wall. They were images and ideas of my dream home. Daddy would be proud, I hope. He’d been a furniture maker, creating all types of things both traditional and out-of-this-world for the home. He had created beautiful furniture that people seemed so happy to buy. He always said you should put a bit of yourself and love into everything you created. Mum always said that’s why my sisters and I turned out beautiful.
I don’t know when I decided that I was going to build my own home, but once the idea had come to me, I had become fixated it on it. While I was at university completing my architecture degree, if I wasn’t studying, I was looking for a plot of land to build on. At the end of my final year, I found the perfect plot and with the help of my grandparents, who had raised us after my parents died, I was able to buy the land and begin planning my perfect house.
Above all my jumbled up thoughts and dreams was a picture of me with my sisters. I had three younger sisters. Dana was the youngest and the one I probably resembled the most. We were both short like our Mum, with dark brown hair and small facial features. I kept my hair shoulder length, which was practical, whereas the rest of my sisters were not happy unless their hair was scraping the top of their bum. I had very dark brown eyes whereas she had blue eyes like Lana, one of my other sisters.
Lana and Tara are twins. They are not identical except in height. Lana is the supermodel girl with long legs and blonde hair. None of us ever understood how Lana had blonde hair since no one else in the family had it. The family was mostly dark brown with the occasional redhead. Tara had red hair, but that was different. She dyed her hair. Tara had shied away from make-up and all the primping that Lana thought was essential to looking good. More often than not as a teenager, Tara had channeled the lanky dork look whenever possible.
Not long after her eighteenth birthday, Tara changed. She was still my closest sister and my confidante, but something had changed. She’d pretty much lived in Lana’s shadow most of her life, not because she was shy or quiet, but rather because Lana was always the center of attention and the life of any party even when it wasn’t her own. One day she came home, and that was it. She locked herself in a bathroom and dyed her hair in the sink. The next day she threw out most of her clothes and changed her image. She never explained why she had done it, and after a while, we gave up asking.
With that thought, I got up and made my way to the bathroom to get ready for the workday. I had almost made it. Just a few more contracts and I’d be able to start building on the plot. I had drawn up the designs myself.
Lana had insisted that she deal with the interior design because she thought if she could dress people up every day to make them look like a million pounds then a house should be no problem at all. Lana worked as a personal stylist to the rich and powerful. A job she excelled at. She was constantly in high demand and able to pick who she worked for and when she wanted to work. All of us achieved nearly perfect grades at school, even Dana who had more reason than the rest of us to flunk out completely. When she should have been enjoying life with her friends she had become a mum with a dickhead of a boyfriend on top.
I WAS AT work and sitting at my desk within an hour, which was perfect since that meant I could get an early start. I had several meetings booked, making a very busy Monday. All I really needed was a cup of coffee to get going. A double shot espresso somewhere had my name on it. At this point, as if his ears were burning, my assistant, Will ‘Coops’ Cooper, popped his head around the door.
“Something told me I wouldn’t be the first one here this morning. I’m just going to drop my stuff at my desk and then run to get our caffeine fix.” Coops looked at me a little longer then frowned. “Nightmare?” I nodded at him with a weak smile. Coops was my assistant, but he was also a very close friend. He’d been with me since I opened my office nearly ten years ago. He’d seen me fall asleep at my desk after working too hard and have nightmares about my parents dying. “I’ll be right back and then you can dish and then we can get on with the day.” He winked before disappearing around the corner.
I had told Coops my parents’ story after the third time he caught me in the middle of a nightmare. It seems like the more stressed I am the more often they happen. After giving me a hug, he shrugged me off and told me at least he knew why I was such a cold, hard-assed bitch to people all the time.
He was my best friend, and he knew it. I was close to my sisters but I didn’t want to be the one to unload more crap on their already full doorsteps. I wanted to be the older sister that they came to and relied on especially since Mum and Daddy weren’t here for them.
I’d gotten so lost in my thoughts I didn’t even hear Coops come back until he was sitting in front of me with my coffee. It smelled so damn good.
“Thanks, Coops.” He was looking at me intently. “I’m fine, really. The usual. We have a lot of work to do. It stresses me out. I have a nightmare. The same cycle as always. You know I’ll be good once we’ve dealt with all the projects.” His look was unrelenting, and I sighed.
“It may be the same cycle, but it’s not a healthy cycle. You need to sort this shit out in your head. Deal with the death, Mara, and find something in your life other than work. It’s not healthy. I’m saying this as your friend. As your colleague, I’m telling you to get your bitch pants on tight because we have so much work to do today; it’s unreal. You’ve got some notorious macho assholes coming on to your books and word on the assistant grapevine is that they’re set on proving you’re not capable of doing your job because you have meat flaps and not a nine steel pole hanging between your legs. You’re pretty much back to back with meetings today and then for the rest of the week you’ve got designs to get finished. Chop chop!”
I smiled and realized he was right. I needed to get on with work. I could deal with issues around my parents death another day, when all my work was done. In the back of my mind, I knew that I always had work to do. I shut the door behind Coops and got to work.
The rest of the day flew by. I was actually buzzing. Most of the meetings were productive and resulted in a few new projects. It was nothing that would give me the dream house, but definitely a step closer. I had one more meeting with a Mr. Bryce, who apparently wanted to discuss a barn conversion somewhere in Essex. I hoped he wanted to do something tasteful. I absolutely hated seeing beautiful buildings torn down and replaced by some completely contemporary monstrosity.
He was already twenty minutes late, and I can’t stand late people. They have no respect for my time and therefore none for me. I have more than enough work to be doing. Another ten minutes passed before Coops popped his head in the doorway. He winced at the look on my face. We did have a telecom system, but we had learned that sometimes, when clients were late, I wasn’t always diplomatic about what I said over it about a client.
“Mr. Bryce is here, Ms. Daniels.” Coops always called me Miss Daniels if a client was present. We both thought it sounded a little odd calling me that between friends, but I had to remain professional. It was bad enough being a female in my field; I didn�
�t need to give anyone an excuse not to take me seriously.
“Are you still going to see him?” It was a valid question. I’d refused to see people over less. Growing up, Granddad had taught us to never compromise our integrity and lower our standards to please someone else. I leaned back into my chair and sighed.
“Send him in.” Coops face broke into a huge smile, and he rushed back to the reception. It would take Coops a couple of minutes to get back to his desk and show Mr. Bryce in, so I continued reading through my notes.
I heard my office door open, but I didn’t look up until I had finished the paragraph I was reading. Mr. Bryce was . . . well . . . I didn’t really know quite what to say. Normally, clients who walked through my door were older—as in OLD. They were usually the type who had worked hard all their life and were working on projects close to their hearts or simply to expanding on the substantial property they already owned. Mr. Bryce did not look like my usual client.
He couldn’t be much older than I was. I took in the strong chin and perfect nose, and I lost myself for a good minute in his chocolate eyes before finally noticing his matching brown highlighted hair. He was tall and lean with the broadest shoulders I’d ever seen. They made me think about my legs wrapped over them and the things his mouth could do to me, but I quickly shrugged off that depraved thought.
He wore jeans that fit him like a second skin. This was normally not something I found attractive on a man, but it looked very good on him. He had a basic black T-shirt on that molded to his body perfectly; I could see every damn muscle through it. The man was gorgeous. No, he was definitely not my typical client.
When my eyes refocused, he was smiling in amusement at me. I guess it was obvious that I had checked him out, but I really couldn’t care less. Getting to check him out compensated for the thirty minutes he’d made me wait for him.
“Mr. Bryce, please, have a seat.” He remained standing for a moment, staring at me as if he was studying me. Finally, he took a seat, pulled it in as close as possible, and leaned in. I’m not sure if he was trying to intimidate me, but if he was, he really didn’t know whom he was playing with. “How can I help you Mr. Bryce?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “Obviously, since you were late, I can’t give you the full consultation that you originally booked, but you are free to leave and make another appointment.” His eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead, no doubt surprised at my curt tone but this was my domain. He quickly recomposed himself and put his smile back on his face.