“No problem. Good night, Emory.” Sarah watched Emory descend the steep driveway to her car, somehow unable to turn away until she was inside. She pushed herself off her own car and shook her head at the surprising turn the night had taken.
Chapter Five
The following Monday morning offered up one of the more beautiful days only Southern California can. It was an even seventy-three degrees without a single cloud marring the crystal blue sky. Sarah blasted the radio, set to Grace’s favorite station, as she made her way to drop Grace at day camp. They sang along, enjoying the morning together. They’d spent an extra ten minutes getting the French braid in Grace’s hair just right so she’d look as cool as Alyssa Martinez, her new friend and idol at camp. But at last they’d done it, and Grace was now in high spirits. “So will you be spending the day at the mansion again?” Grace asked dramatically over the music.
“Yep, still a lot to do over there, but if I work hard this week, I just might be able to finish up the packing so the movers can come and transport the boxes. And then, my little girl, you and I can spend next week relaxing and doing anything we want.” Grace’s eyebrows rose in imaginative anticipation. “Within reason,” she amended.
“Sounds fun to me. Maybe we can go swimming and I can show you what Miss Kathy taught me. I can do the backstroke,” she declared, her eyes wide. “It’s amazing.”
“Wow, you are really coming along with those swimming lessons. I’m raising a little caballa.”
Grace laughed. “A what?”
“It means mackerel in Spanish. It’s a type of fish.”
“That’s me all right!” Grace was clearly proud of herself. “A fish!”
“Are you remembering to pay attention to how tired you feel?”
Grace sighed. “Yes, ma’am. Miss Kathy asks me how I’m doing about a million times a lesson.”
“She’s just making sure you’re okay. Your health is important.”
“I know, I know. I just don’t want to talk about it all the time. The other kids are going to think I’m weird or something.”
“You? Weird?” Sarah asked with mock enthusiasm. “No!”
“Mom!”
As their laughter died down, they drove in silence a little ways, Sarah humming to the radio. “So I heard something about you yesterday,” Grace said.
Sarah looked at her suspiciously, wondering what the sly look was all about. “And what’s that?”
“That you’re going on a date tomorrow night. A second date with the same man.”
“You heard this from your no-good grandmother who can’t keep a secret from a pesky little girl?”
“That’s the one.” Grace seemed to enjoy the turn the teasing had taken. “So do you loooove him?” She made kissing sounds. “Will there be a wedding?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “No. But he is a nice man, and I’d like to get to know him better. His name is James.” Joking aside, Sarah could’ve strangled her mother for passing on this information to Grace. Sure, she was eager for Sarah to find a man and settle down, but it was way too early to involve Grace. Her mother should know better.
“Well, don’t put all your eggs in one basket,” Grace said seriously.
“Where on earth have we picked up this new phrase?” Sarah wasn’t exactly surprised. Grace often picked up mannerisms and vocabulary that she’d clearly pilfered from someone she looked up to.
“Miss Kathy.”
“Miss Kathy, of course. Well, I’ll try not to put all my eggs in one basket if you try to behave yourself today and be the nicest camper this place’s ever seen.” Sarah put the car in park and leaned into the kiss Grace placed on her cheek. “And don’t forget to take it easy. If you feel tired or overrun, be sure to tell Miss Kathy right away and sit down. Remember what Dr. Robles said.”
“I will. I promise. Bye, Mama!” Sarah waited until a camp counselor retrieved Grace before pulling away from the curb and heading to the house on Banning Street.
She spent most of the day in the main living room and two guest rooms, cataloguing everything as she went. She’d taken a brief lunch break, eating the sandwich she’d brought with her, before plowing ahead, intent on finishing this project in a timely manner if it killed her. With headphones in her ears as she worked, she about jumped out of her skin when she turned around and saw Emory leaning casually in the doorway of the guest room she was working in, her hip kicked out, her shoulder holding her in place. With a hand to her racing heart, Sarah stood slowly, pulling the headphones from her ears. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Clearly.” A small smile graced Emory’s lips. “It’s after five and you’ve, again, done an enormous amount of work.” Emory produced two very enticing open bottles of Dos Equis. She dangled the sweaty, sure-to-be-refreshing bottles in front of Sarah and then teasingly backed away, her retreating form enough to garner a laugh from Sarah who only waited a beat before washing her hands and following.
She found Emory on the deck, this time positioned on a cushioned chaise lounge, her long, tanned legs laid out in front of her. She wore athletic attire today, and the shorts she’d selected certainly complimented her toned physique. Sarah scooped up the beer Emory left on the small table for her and took up residence in the chair next to Emory’s. “So how was your long day at the office?”
Emory sighed. “Murder. But there’s hope on the horizon in the form of some big rollouts that could mean more business in the long run. We need to start interviewing new PR firms to handle our streaming video product launch.”
“We?”
“I guess that would be Lucy and me, and the other account executives to a lesser extent. Lucy is my VP and has been with me since the company’s inception. We also have kind of a history.” She squinted her eyes sheepishly.
“You grew up together?” Sarah immediately thought of the deep history she had with Carmen.
“Not exactly. She’s my ex. We lived together for two years.”
“Oh.” Sarah let the comment land. She knew Emory was gay; she’d said as much the night before, but the idea of Emory with another woman was still surprising to her…and intriguing at the same time. She’d never had a lesbian friend. This was new territory.
“It’s nice that you’re able to still have a working relationship,” Sarah offered politely. She took a drink of her beer.
“That’s kind of the point. We’re both workaholics, and eventually, I realized I was dating myself. Our relationship became one of convenience, and we rarely did anything but talk about the office. I did learn a valuable lesson, however. I suck at relationships and should avoid them at all costs. Over time, we both came to the understanding that we’d make better friends anyway. Since then, our relationship has only grown stronger. It was the right move.”
“Wow,” Sarah replied. “That’s a very mature way of handling it. When my friends break up, you can generally expect a lot of shouting and crying, sometimes in the street. Maybe it’s cultural.”
“Trust me, it’s not. The lesbian community is nothing if not dramatic. Ours was an ideal breakup, though. We just kind of shifted into new roles and it worked.” Emory stared at the label on her beer, wondering why she was again divulging so many intimate details of her life. She’d wanted to see Sarah for a purpose, and another conversation full of personal confessions had not been on the books. Emory delicately changed the subject. “So I was thinking a little more about what you were telling me, about your business aspirations.”
“Okay,” Sarah answered tentatively.
“And I don’t know if this is overstepping my bounds, but I might be able to help.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, I was thinking about what you told me about Immaculate Home. You want to grow the company and you mentioned several new ideas. Can you offer me an example?”
“Um, sure.” Sarah didn’t miss a beat. “We’ve been cleaning homes in the San Diego area for more than twenty years. Not long ago, we began receiving calls, simi
lar to this one, for home organization, either for a move or a death in the family. What I’d like to see happen, is for us to go one better and open up a separate branch of the company for home management, reorganization, custom closets, custom storage space, the works. We could hire a designer and subcontract with several of the construction companies in the area. The way I see it, we can start transforming space within our existing clients’ homes so their lives are less cluttered, more manageable. Once they’re sold, word of mouth should bring in more business. There’s a real market in our area for this. Our clients would eat it up. I know they would.”
Emory had to admit, she was impressed with the pitch, or at least the manner in which it was articulated. Sarah spoke with such passion, such spark, that she believed whole-heartedly that she’d find a way to succeed with the new venture. “That’s where I come in. Let me send a press release or two over the wire once you’re ready to offer the new services. All it takes is one feature editor to pick up the story of the little company that could, and you’ll have more business than you know what to do with.”
“Oh, well, I’d have to take a look at our budget. It’s possible, but it would depend on what the upstart would—”
“No charge. I’m willing to donate our services temporarily. If it works out and you decide you’d like to continue, which I feel strongly you will, we can set up a formal account and you can become a full-fledged client.”
Sarah’s eyebrows rose and she seemed to let the full weight of Emory’s offer settle in before finally speaking. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever offered to do for me, but I’m sorry, I can’t accept. It’s too generous.”
“First of all, it is not. This wouldn’t be the first or the last time we’ve comped a release. You’ve put a lot of work into this company and obtaining your degree, all the while raising a child on your own. I’m just saying it’s impressive, and I’d like to help.”
Sarah met her eyes. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll need to take some time and think it over.”
Emory was confused. She thought surely Sarah would jump at the opportunity of some free exposure, knowing full well she would have had their roles been reversed. Hell, she’d taken every chance she could to get ahead and didn’t for a minute understand Sarah’s hesitation. But she had to respect her wishes.
She turned to face her fully, covering the top of Sarah’s hand with her own. “Just promise me you really will put some thought into it, and I’ll leave you alone.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to push the issue, but she did. “You’re talented, Sarah. Just seeing the way you’ve organized and cataloged and implemented systems—getting this place turned around in record time. That’s ingenuity, and it goes a long way. The way you work is indicative of a very clever mind, and if sticking with this business and expanding it is what you want, well, I guess I just want to see you go after it.”
Sarah stared at the hand atop hers and then raised her eyes to meet the intense blue ones staring back at her, and she was quite simply, touched. Emory, a highly successful career woman, saw value in her. That meant something, didn’t it? Hearing that someone credible believed in her might just be the motivation she needed. She leaned her head against the pillow of the chaise, unable to hide her small smile. “Thank you for saying that,” she told Emory softly, holding her gaze. “I promise to give it true thought.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” Emory squeezed her hand softly.
They sipped their beers and watched the sun set, not saying a whole lot. Occasionally, Sarah stole a glance at Emory, careful to turn away before she was caught.
*
“Oh, wow,” Sarah whispered quietly. She closed her eyes and savored the succulent flavor of the light and delectable sea scallop on her fork. “This is amazing.” She sank down in her chair in utter surrender. In fact, it was so much more than amazing. It was heavenly. That was it. For a moment, she thought she’d died and gone to heaven.
James chuckled quietly at her response to the dish. “I was hoping you would like it.” He leaned a little further into her across the table. “I think that was my exact reaction the first time I ate here. The chef is world-renowned, and when you’d told me on the phone you’d never been here, I knew I had to fix that.”
“It’s a wonderful restaurant. Thank you for introducing me to it.” It was a crazy expensive restaurant is what it was, and Sarah couldn’t quite relax. She looked around Fleur de Lys, the French restaurant James had selected for their second date. It was the picture of everything opulent. Everything she wasn’t. The dining room was accented with touches of gold, grand bouquets, and votive candles. From the ceiling, patterned fabric tented softly overhead offering the feel of dining under a large canopy. Sarah was a bit shocked when she initially opened the menu and caught the lavish prices, but it was clear to her that James wanted the evening to be special, and to be honest, so did she. So she was willing to ignore the unease that she felt. She was determined to enjoy the evening with this wonderful man and not concentrate on the fact the cost of their dinner would add up to a fourth of her rent for the month.
“So I have a confession to make,” James began. Was he actually nervous? Again, cute. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our date last week. You made quite an impression on me, Sarah.”
She smiled. “I had a great time too. I’m so glad we decided to do it again.”
“Is it too soon to ask for a third date?” He laughed, yet made it clear he was sincere.
She matched his smile. “I accept.” There was something about him that she liked. He was easygoing, kind, and a complete gentleman. Her hopes were high and she was truly having a fantastic evening. The conversation had never lulled, they’d laughed together easily, and as an extra added bonus, he was really good-looking. Yes, sir. Things were looking up indeed. She owed Carmen big time for this.
James picked up his wine glass and offered a toast. “To new beginnings.”
She lightly touched her glass to his. “New beginnings. Cheers.” She brought the glass to her lips slowly and sipped the sweet red wine, never taking her eyes from his.
“How’s work?”
“Busy. I’ve been working in the field the past couple of weeks to help my mother out, but I’m not complaining. I’m happy to do it.”
He shook his head. “I find it admirable that you’ve been so loyal to your mother. Family is important to me, and it clearly is to you as well. You should be proud of the choices you’ve made.”
“Thanks, that’s sweet of you.” Sarah reached for her wine then, just in time for her eyes to land on a familiar blonde two tables away. Surely, it couldn’t be. But it was. She’d never seen Emory Owen outside of the Banning Street house, and seeing her here, now, in the real world, was surreal, almost like when you see your teacher at the grocery store. She was talking quietly with a striking brunette who delicately sipped from a martini glass. If Emory was surprised to see Sarah, she didn’t show it. She nodded her head in silent greeting, a smile eventually making its way onto her lips. Sarah smiled back shyly. The brunette, picking up on some kind of exchange, tossed a quick glance in Sarah’s direction before turning back to Emory, who leaned in, probably in explanation.
“You know Emory Owen?” James asked, inclining his head discreetly in Emory’s direction.
Sarah nodded, sipping her wine. “She’s a client. We’ve gotten to know each other a little bit over the past couple of weeks. How do you know her?”
“My firm’s done work with her company, and of course, I know of her from friends of friends. Nothing against her, but she’s one of those trust fund babies who’s practically had the world handed to her. Must be nice not to have to work as hard as the rest of us.”
Sarah thought of the long hours Emory consistently put in and the careful work she’d done to get her company off the ground. The description didn’t seem to match, but she decided not to argue the point.
“And just so you’re aware,” h
e lowered his voice. “She’s a lesbian. Not that it’s a bad thing. I just thought you should know.”
“Ah. Yes, I think she mentioned that.” But Sarah couldn’t help notice the underlying warning in his voice, almost as if Emory were a predator and she the unassuming prey. The idea almost made her laugh out loud. James was a nice guy but clearly not as worldly as he would like to think. Only a minor strike against him.
“Just didn’t want it to come as a shock.”
She nodded, understanding that James meant no harm. He just didn’t have a lot of experience in this department, not that she did either for that matter.
They made small talk as they ate, and occasionally, Sarah’s gaze drifted in the direction of the table two away from theirs. She wondered how the two women knew each other. A date, maybe? She couldn’t be sure. They seemed very comfortable together, and if they were dating, they certainly made a striking pair. In the course of her ascertainment, she somehow became aware of the fact that James was offering her the details of his recent move from an apartment to a house, and she was also aware of the fact that she wasn’t actually listening. She was nodding—she was a great nodder—but her attention was captivated by the activity at the nearby table.
The brunette was laughing at something Emory said, and Emory was shaking her head trying to contain her own laughter.
Damn it, she should stop staring. It was rude and intrusive.
And she would.
She focused on James then and forced herself to ask a question that would bring her back into the fold of the conversation. “Do you feel at home there yet, in your new place?”
“Not quite. But I’m sure with time I’ll get there. It’s the perfect place for me with room to grow into, you know?”
“I’m sure you will.” She nodded again, but her gaze was pulled across the room as if attached to a magnet.
*
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