“A study showed the community has the capacity to provide the services and supposedly there’s a need,” Matt continued, his voice all business. “Though I have to wonder how much need there is in an affluent city like Santa Barbara.”
You’d be surprised to find that child abuse doesn’t always happen among the poor, Sierra wanted to say. A familiar ache filled her heart, but she took a steadying breath and forced herself to concentrate on the matter at hand. “Tell me again what my mother’s involvement will be?”
“Purely financial,” he said. “She’ll supply the money. Our firm will oversee the project.”
“What about publicity?” Sierra asked, though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer. Both Libby and her mother preferred to stay out of the media limelight.
“The project will be publicized. But your mother doesn’t want her name mentioned,” Matt said. “At least not until the Center is completed.”
“I assume you’ll be giving her frequent updates?” Sierra asked.
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “I’ll be giving you frequent updates.”
A woodsy scent of bergamot mingled with citrus and cloves wafted over her. Sierra inhaled deeply, finding the scent very much to her liking. She shoved the disturbing thought aside, realizing he’d continued to talk.
“Your mother made it very clear that she didn’t want to be contacted by our firm until everything is done and the Center is ready to open. I guess she figures she can get whatever pertinent information she needs from you.” He paused and tilted his head. “I assume you and she talk frequently?”
Sierra saw no reason to tell him that phone conversations between Stella and her daughter were few and far between. “Do you have any preliminary information about the project?”
He shoved the folder that he’d pulled earlier from his briefcase across the tabletop. “This is what the architects have drawn up so far. I’ve included articles from other cities where such centers are located as well as some information from the National Children’s Alliance.”
Curious, Sierra took the packet of information and pulled the papers from the folder. She slowly paged through them, studying each one intently.
“What do you think?” he asked.
She carefully slipped the articles back into the folder. “I just have a few questions. Who is going to have final approval—”
“I’m sorry this took so long.” The brunette interrupted, placing a glass of tea in front of Sierra. “Can I get either of you anything else?”
Matt met Sierra’s gaze and raised a questioning eyebrow.
Sierra shook her head.
Matt reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and handed the girl a twenty. “Keep the change.”
The waitress glanced at the bill and a delighted smile blanketed her face. “Wow. Thanks.”
He slid the wallet back into his pocket. “Now where were we?”
But Sierra was more interested in the waitress, who was hurrying across the dining room, a new bounce in her step. When the girl disappeared into the kitchen, she shifted her gaze back to Matt. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?” He raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
“You gave her twenty dollars,” Sierra pressed. “Twenty dollars for iced tea seems a bit excessive.”
Matt shrugged. “She’s a real pain in the—” he stopped himself and continued, “but I have to admire her. We were talking before you got here and she told me she takes a full load of classes and works two jobs.”
“You made her day.” Sierra had worked as a waitress off and on since she was sixteen and she knew how much those unexpected windfalls meant. Because of that, a grudging approval sounded in her voice.
“Waiting tables is hard work,” he said, dismissing the compliment. “I’m a big believer that hard work should be rewarded.”
Sierra started to tell him that she agreed whole-heartedly. Ever since her divorce she’d been working extra hard to make a new life for herself and her daughter. And she truly believed, with God’s help, that one day the hard work would pay off.
But thankfully she came to her senses just in time. She and this man weren’t friends chatting about life, they were strangers with little in common. And it was best if they kept anything personal out of their business discussion. “Who did you say has the final approval of the design?”
“You would.”
Sierra thought about what the center would mean to the community. “It’s a big project. And it’s important it be done right.”
“I agree,” Matt said. “I’ll continue to work with local leaders and the Regional Advocacy office to make sure the Center meets national standards. You and your mother don’t have a thing to worry about.”
The underlying assumption was that she should just trust him. While she had to admit that Dixon and Associates was a big-time L.A. law firm, handling celebrity divorces and high-profile criminal cases was one thing, setting up and overseeing a new corporation was another.
“I do have one concern. You’re a divorce attorney.” Her inflection made it clear exactly what she thought of his occupation. “What makes you think you can handle this type of project?”
He stiffened at her disparaging tone and his easy smile tightened. But, when he spoke, his tone was even. “We’re a large firm and divorces are only a part of what we do. I can assure you I’m more than capable of setting up a new corporation.”
Sierra tapped her fingers against the tabletop. He oozed confidence, but she wasn’t convinced. Still, she knew what it would have meant to have such a place when Maddie had been injured. “I don’t want this botched up.”
“I won’t botch it up.” Matt spoke slowly, emphasizing each word. His flashing blue eyes let her know he didn’t appreciate the insinuation.
It was clear he’d assumed their meeting would be a mere formality. He probably thought this would be the last he’d see of her until the ribbon-cutting ceremony.
But this project was too important to trust to someone like him. Tonight, Sierra would sit Libby down and make her see that they had to be involved.
Libby had to understand this was one venture that simply couldn’t be left to an attorney.
Libby Carlyle leaned back in the rattan chair on her veranda and stared at her friend. “You’re joking.”
Sierra shook her head. “Nope, it’s true. Your mother is funding a new Child Advocacy Center.”
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Stella Carlyle?” Libby’s blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. “We both know my mother doesn’t have a philanthropic bone in her body, unless you count the money she donates to Prada.”
Sierra smiled. Imelda Marcos had nothing on Stella Carlyle. “Matt seemed confident but I think you should call and check with her, anyway.”
“Matt?” Libby placed her cup of Chai on the table and curiosity flared in her brilliant blue eyes.
Sierra stilled. Though she’d refused to call him anything but Mr. Dixon to his face, his first name had slipped past her lips with ease, as if they were best friends and she’d been saying it for years.
She kept her face expressionless. She knew Libby was ready to misunderstand any comments she might make so Sierra chose her words carefully. “Like I said, he had no doubts it was your mother. But I’m certainly not one to trust anything that comes out of a lawyer’s mouth.”
Thankfully, Libby accepted the statement at face value. She nodded and picked up the cordless phone. “It’s got to be a mistake.”
Though Libby was acting nonchalant, Sierra could tell by the way her friend’s eyebrows furrowed as she punched in her mother’s number, that Libby was as puzzled as she was by this strange turn of events. They both knew Stella was selfish and not particularly fond of children. Why she would fund a children’s center was a complete mystery.
“It’s ringing,” Libby said, covering the receiver briefly with her hand.
“I’ll get us some vanilla wafers.” Sierra rose and headed for the screen door leading into the house.
Libby just nodded absently, her ear pressed against the phone.
Sierra had practically grown up in Libby’s large Victorian home and the kitchen was as familiar to her as her own. She quickly found the cookies and poured them into a bowl she took from the cupboard. Leaning back against the counter, she ate one slowly. Then, she ate another, nibbling at the edges, prolonging the experience until that cookie, too, was gone.
But the moment Sierra opened the screen door and stepped onto the veranda, Libby’s raised voice told Sierra she should have lingered longer. Un-fortunately to go back inside would be way too obvious, so Sierra slipped quietly into the chair and averted her gaze to the beautifully landscaped yard.
“Of course I realize that why you do something is your business.” Libby’s voice was tight and controlled. “It just didn’t sound like you and I wanted to make sure—”
Libby paused and even from where she sat Sierra could hear the strident tones in the voice on the other end of the line.
“Mother, I’m sorry. I need to go.” Libby clicked off the phone and blew out a harsh breath, her face tight with frustration. “What is the matter with that woman? We haven’t talked in over a month and yet when I call and ask a few simple questions, she bites my head off.”
“Maybe she and Jean-Claude are fighting again.” Sierra reached across the table and gave her friend’s hand a sympathetic squeeze. She hated it when Stella took her boyfriend frustrations out on her daughter. “You know how cranky she gets when that happens.”
“I don’t care what her reason is.” Libby’s eyes flashed. “She doesn’t need to be nasty.”
“What did she say about the project?” Sierra asked.
“She said she’s doing it,” Libby said. “She’s putting up the money.”
Sierra widened her gaze in surprise. Though Matt had been sure he had the right Stella, Sierra had been equally sure it was a mistake. “No way.”
“Way,” Libby said. “But when I asked why, she went ballistic. Said it was none of my business.”
Sierra raised an eyebrow. “Why would she say something like that?”
“None of my business?” Libby’s voice rose and she continued as if Sierra hadn’t even spoken. “If it’s not my business, then whose is it? And why is she being so secretive?”
Sierra lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. She shared Libby’s confusion. Secretive had never been Stella’s style.
They sat in silence for several minutes, sipping tea and munching cookies, each lost in their own thoughts.
“The only thing I can figure,” Libby said finally, “is that maybe she’s getting some great tax write-off.”
“And maybe she doesn’t want to admit it, thinking it makes her look bad,” Sierra added.
Libby nodded. “It’s logical. Otherwise the decision to donate seems to come from left field.” She paused for a second. “And, before I forget, the attorney was right.”
“About what?” Sierra took a small bite of vanilla wafer.
“She doesn’t want any updates.” Libby lifted her cup of Chai but didn’t bring it to her lips. “Says she trusts me to make all the decisions regarding the project. Which is interesting considering she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me the reason behind the donation.”
“You’re going to do it, aren’t you?” Sierra leaned forward. “You’ve got to make sure this project is successful.”
“Are you crazy?” Libby laughed as if the thought was ridiculous. “I have my hands full working at the Waterfront and helping your mother with her catering. Besides you have to remember I’m not me this summer.”
Suddenly Libby tilted her head and stared at Sierra. An uneasy feeling coursed through Sierra at the look in Libby’s eye.
“You’ll oversee the project,” Libby said, her lips turning up in a satisfied smile.
“Me?” Sierra’s heart picked up speed and her hand rose to her throat. “You’re the one with the business background.”
“You don’t need an MBA to give input,” Libby said with a dismissive flutter of her fingers. “You’ve had firsthand experience. You’ve gone through the process. This will be your chance to give some good input.”
“But—”
“Sierra.” The look in Libby’s eyes said she understood Sierra’s hesitation, but her voice was surprisingly hard and unyielding. “Remember when Maddie had to be examined and questioned? You were so frustrated with the system. There were a lot of things you wished could have been done differently, little things that would have made it easier on Maddie and on you. Now, for whatever reason, you have the opportunity to make a difference.”
Sierra carefully considered Libby’s words. The crazy switch had seemed like such a game but maybe it was all part of God’s plan. Maybe He’d put her in this position for a reason. Maybe it was so she could make a difference. There was only one drawback.
“I’ll have to work closely with Matt Dixon,” Sierra said finally.
“I’ve seen Dix on television and for an old guy he’s pretty hot.” Libby’s lips turned up in a teasing smile. “If this Matt looks as much like his father as you say, working closely shouldn’t be much of a hardship.”
“You know how I feel about lawyers,” Sierra protested.
“What’s that old saying?” Libby lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow. “We all have our cross to bear?”
Sierra sighed. It was clear she wasn’t going to get any sympathy from Libby. And though Libby was partially teasing, what she’d said was true. Spending time with an attorney was a small price to pay for the opportunity to make changes that could affect children for years to come.
Yes, Matthew Dixon would be her cross to bear.
But only for the summer.
And only until the project was complete.
Chapter Four
Sierra leisurely swung Libby’s BMW Roadster into the secured parking lot down the street from The Hope Chest. It was nearly eleven—almost time for lunch. Though her workday was just beginning, Sierra didn’t feel bad coming in at such a late hour.
Dottie managed the early-morning shoppers with ease. After all, she’d been handling them alone ever since Libby had bought the store several years ago. Morning hours weren’t Libby’s favorite and she’d rarely made it to the shop before noon.
The thought of her friend now having to be at work by eight brought a smile to Sierra’s lips. Libby had thought it would be “fun” to be poor for the summer but she was quickly discovering there was nothing even remotely enjoyable about rising at the crack of dawn and working two jobs to make ends meet.
While the switch in positions had condemned Libby to a summer of hard labor, Sierra had been sentenced to one of leisure and she was determined to savor every moment.
There was no “early to bed and early to rise” for her and Maddie this summer. Instead of rushing around in the morning hurriedly downing cold cereal and juice from a box, Sierra cooked waffles, pancakes or eggs and bacon. She hand squeezed Maddie’s orange juice and enjoyed coffee made from fresh-ground beans.
After eating, they’d dress and head for the park to play on the swings until it was time for Maddie to go to preschool. Then while Maddie socialized with her friends, Sierra would work for three or four hours before heading back to the Wee Kids Preschool and Child Care Center.
Last week, Sierra had skipped work one day and she and Libby had gone on a shopping spree. Libby had insisted if Sierra was going to play the part of a rich young woman, she had to look the part.
Her frayed jeans and discount-store cotton tops had been replaced by trendy casual clothes purchased from stores without price tags. And playing the part didn’t stop with the clothes. Though Sierra had insisted on keeping her apartment and her daughter, she’d willingly given up her late-eighties Olds for Libby’s new sports car.
Sierra opened the shiny red door and stepped out onto the aspha
lt, giving the car an appreciative pat. The sky overhead was a brilliant blue and only a hint of a breeze ruffled her hair.
She shut and locked the car but didn’t immediately start toward the store. Instead she stood and stretched, inhaling deeply.
It was hard to remember the last time she’d felt so content. Thanks to Libby’s scheme, this summer promised to be the best one ever. And the fall was looking just as good. Only one more quarter of classes and she’d graduate. With a college degree she’d be able to snag a good job and that would hopefully translate into a little house, one with a backyard where Maddie and her friends could play.
A fleeting image of the large home on Las Palmas that she and Jerry had shared flashed through her mind. When she’d married her college sweetheart at the end of her junior year, everyone told her she’d hit the jackpot. After all, she was the daughter of a housekeeper while his father was a wealthy land developer. But that wasn’t why Sierra had married him. She’d been head-over-heels in love and convinced their marriage would last forever.
The memories of their ill-fated union threatened to steal her good mood, but Sierra shook them from her head. Jerry was in the past. She hadn’t kept his name or his money or his house. She hadn’t wanted any of it. All she’d wanted was Maddie.
Sierra headed toward the sidewalk, her smile returning as she remembered her daughter’s excited chatter this morning. It was her teacher’s birthday and the preschool staff had organized a party. The children had all made cards and they were going to have cake and ice cream for snack. Maddie had been so eager to get through the doors she’d almost forgotten to wave goodbye.
My little girl is growing up.
At one time Sierra had wanted a whole houseful of children, but that was before her marriage had started to fall apart, before she knew what Jerry was really like, before…
Sierra blew out a harsh breath and pushed open the door to The Hope Chest. A melodious tinkle of bells announced her arrival. She scanned the eclectic interior, seeing only vases, furniture and baubles. “Dottie?”
Love Enough For Two (Love Inspired) Page 3