Less than fifteen minutes later, in the privacy of the ladies’ room at the Institute, her answer was a double line where there should have been one. She crouched down on the floor of the bathroom and leaned her head against the cool tiles behind her. A baby. What would Rick say?
She stood and dropped the test stick into the garbage can. “He’s not going to find out,” she said as she washed her hands. She couldn’t tell him. It was a moot point anyway. He wouldn’t want the child. He’d probably think it was nothing more than an inconvenience.
Wiping her hands, she stared in the mirror as another thought struck her. It could be worse. What if Rick wanted to help her raise it? A sense of protectiveness flared in her and she held a hand over her belly.
“It’s never going to happen,” she said, only half to herself.
He’d fly in now and then to see them, throw money at them like Bill had done. Then he’d go back to his work. There would always be his work. She wouldn’t let Rick’s driving ambition turn their child into a carbon-copy of himself.
An abandoned child desperate for its father’s attention.
Chapter 19
Harmony waited for the morning sickness to pass, nibbling on one of the rice cakes she kept handy beside her bed. She stared up at the draped ceiling. Just a few more minutes and a spoonful of apple vinegar and she’d be fine. Good thing she’d listened to her mother when she handed folks advice for everything from arthritis to insomnia to morning sickness. Ariel Brooks certainly knew her stuff.
She should really talk to her mother. Nearly a week had passed since she’d learned she was pregnant, and keeping the news to herself was driving her crazy. She didn’t want anyone at the Institute to know about it yet. She’d kept any exchanges with Lettie to a minimum, too. God knew she couldn’t tell Rick. But she was happy about the baby, this little bit of her and Rick. She smiled and sat up slowly. She’d make sure he or she was loved, and what better start was there than Max and Ariel Brooks showering the child with affection and good thoughts?
“Maybe Ariel will have a reading of the baby’s past lives,” she laughed to herself.
As she’d gotten used to, the nausea passed quickly and she dressed. Her parents were due for a visit. Maybe she should wade through that growing pink pile of messages at the Institute and see if there was one from them. She threw on a sweater and hopped on her scooter. As she made her way from the camp, the cool air invigorating on her cheeks, she still thought about those phone messages. She’d glimpsed Rick’s name on one slip yesterday, and her fingers had itched to pick it up. But, as the more recent ones in the stack showed, it just had his name and telephone number. No message, no endearment. What did she expect? A stinkin’ Valentine?
Something niggled at her, something that made her stop at a point where the path grew rockier and more overgrown. Precisely where over the past three weeks she’d purposely kept her gaze fixed forward. He’d asked her to come and look at the rec café before he left, and more than once. She’d resisted. Why take an interest in his work? He was interested enough for the both of them. But now she felt like she had to see it. It was the reason they’d gotten together in the first place. It had meant so darn much to him while he was here.
“What the heck?” She stepped on the pedal and turned the scooter in the direction of the café. Built on the site where she’d first seen him.
“Be strong, Harmony.” Don’t be a fool, she mentally added.
As she got closer, the path became smoother and she could make out the recreation area up ahead. But something wasn’t right. The nature trails were well marked but their edges were soft enough to look as if they’d developed over years instead of weeks. She could see hikers and children making use of the paths, some hurrying and some taking their time. At the center of the activity was a building, nestled under a canopy of trees.
She stopped the scooter and stared. “Wow,” she breathed.
The rec café was nothing like she’d envisioned. It was made of stone and framed with rough-hewn wood planks, and the paint that colored the stucco walls was a green as soft as the underside of a scrub buckwheat leaf. People bustled in and out of the double doors, talking and smiling as they carried their little brown bags of treats and cups of coffee to the round iron tables set on the small stone patio. She drove closer and parked the scooter in the bike rack set off to one side of the building.
She saw bottles of juices and nectar on the tables and in people’s hands and could smell cinnamon and vanilla. Suddenly her mouth watered. She smiled. So much for morning sickness. This baby wanted to eat and it wanted to now. She stepped off the scooter and walked into the little retreat.
There was a line from the counter to the door, and she stepped aside to allow a happy patron to make their exit.
“Harmony!”
She turned at the familiar voice and stared at her mother, who bustled behind the counter. “Mom?”
Ariel smiled at her as she finished a transaction at the cash register. “And five is twenty.” She waved over a young woman working behind the counter to take up her position and wiped her hands on her tie-dyed apron. “Hello, dear.”
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
Her mother grinned and jabbed her thumb toward the man deftly working the cappuccino machine. “I couldn’t let him work by himself, could I?”
She blinked in the man’s direction. “Dad?”
Max winked at her. “Hi, hon,” he called over the hissing and gurgling of the machine.
She took a step back and settled on a stool near the counter. “What the… ? Mom, why are you guys working here?”
Ariel pointed to the large bake case dominating one wall of the rec café. Glass plates topped with white doilies sat on the racks inside, holding snacks Harmony could identify in a heartbeat.
“Tofu cheesecake, Mom?” She smiled. “Carob fudge brownies and cinnamon apple tartlets?”
“That’s right,” Ariel said. “I supply all the treats for the joint. Your Dad makes the coffee.”
“How did you… ?” She was floored. “How?”
Ariel took her hand and sat beside her. “Rick.”
She was grateful for the seat beneath her bottom as she tried to clear her head. Rick? She must have heard wrong. “Rick? I know he was involved in the staffing, but… ”
“He changed the design, too,” Ariel said. “To make it fit in better, he told us. To put it in balance. He arranged for your father and me to supply the place.” She winked. “Working here was your father’s idea. But what the heck? Maybe we could settle down a few months out of the year. It beats trucking up to Orlando every weekend.”
Her head was spinning, and it had nothing to do with the tiny being nestled inside her. Her mother’s explanation made no sense. Yet it filled her with a cautious spark of hope.
If Rick could change his mind about the café, maybe he could change his attitude too. Maybe he didn’t think Cypress Corners was so messed up after all, not if he could see the merits of blending development with nature.
“Maybe I was wrong,” she said to herself.
“About what, dear?” Ariel asked. “When I spoke to Rick last—”
“You…” She faced her mother. “You spoke to him?”
“Yes, dear. Before he went back to Boston.”
She looked around at the successful and lovely little café. “Before. Then he knew about… He must have made these changes weeks ago.”
“And called your father and me,” Ariel added. “I think we’re a pretty good fit, don’t you?”
Her dad was humming as he bopped around behind the counter. Her mother, with her unruly hair tied in a neat ponytail with a scarf that matched her apron. Harmony had to admit her parents looked too cute and capable in the place. This place that Rick had changed to suit its environment instead of intruding upon it. Could it be he really understood it now? The way everything should be in balance?
“Mom.” She took both her mother’s hands in hers.
“I have to tell you something. I… I need your opinion.”
“Mine?” Ariel started to stand. “Let me get my crystals, and—”
“No. We don’t need the crystals.”
Her mother settled back on the stool, her brow furrowed. “What is it, dear?”
“Rick’s stepmother told me something when she was here. Something horrible. I didn’t want to believe it.”
“What did she say?”
She took a breath. “She said that Rick used me to further his career.”
There. It was out. To her great relief her mother was smiling. Relief and surprise. That wasn’t right.
“That’s ridiculous, Harmony,” her mother said. “Rick didn’t use you. He cares for you a great deal.”
She blew out a breath. “I wish I could believe that.”
Her mother started to say something more, but held back. “I can’t tell you what’s in Rick’s heart, dear. But I can see yours. You love him.”
Yes, she loved him. Him and the baby she carried, but she couldn’t say that. Not yet.
“Yes, I love him.”
“Does he know?”
“God, no.” Harmony stood and crossed to the cooler near the counter and grabbed a bottle of peach nectar. “Put this on my account, Dad.”
Max chuckled and made a check in the air with one finger. “I’m starting a tab, hon.”
She returned to her mother and sat again. “I didn’t tell him I love him.” She opened the bottle, drank down the sweet cool nectar and licked her lips. “What good would it have done?”
Ariel shrugged. “That’s between the two of you. But that’s not all I wanted to tell you.”
“Oh, brother. What next?”
“We know about the bank account, dear.”
She couldn’t protest, so she just nodded mutely. “And?”
“There’s no need, Harmony.” Her mother shrugged and placed a hand on her hip. “Your father and I are doing just fine, especially with a direct market for these goodies.”
“But I have to pay you back, Mom.” Her eyes began to tear. “What Adam did… What I let him do to both of you was horrible.”
“We never blamed you,” Ariel said. “Not once. Adam was no good.”
“He was a bastard,” she muttered.
“Yes, he was,” her mother said. “But boy, was he great at hiding it. I couldn’t even read his aura, he had such a wall of charm put up.”
Charm. Yeah. Adam had charm in spades.
“But still, Mom. All your savings… It still stings that he used your hopes that way.”
“We were foolish. But he only took our money. He took your heart.” Ariel tilted her head to one side. “Or did he? I think someone else has it now.”
“Yes.” She capped her bottle and set it on the counter. “Fat lot of good it does me. We all know how great my judgment is where men are involved.”
“Don’t do it, sweetheart.” Her mother shook her head, the tiny bells hanging from her ears softly tinkling. “Don’t let Adam ruin what you could have with Rick.”
“And what’s that? A life in Boston? I don’t think so. He might have made these changes here, but could he settle here? Be happy here? With me?”
“I don’t know. But don’t let your past judgment cloud your mind now. I’ve seen Rick’s aura, remember?”
She shrugged. “So you said.”
Ariel didn’t appear to take offense. She just smiled again. “His aura is pure, Harmony. Yes it’s cloudy, even when I saw him a few weeks ago. But he has a good soul.”
Her mother stood and patted her arm. “Finish your juice. You could use it.”
She started but her mother just smiled again and stepped behind the counter. She couldn’t know about the baby. Could she?
She finished the bottle and capped it once more, fiddling with the label wrapping the wide neck. Rick’s aura was pure, huh? She snorted. What did that mean?
Her hand settled on her belly and she felt that spark of hope flare inside her. Rick had made these changes. He’d found a way to let her parents take care of themselves, something she’d never even considered. To see them with such purpose, the obvious enjoyment they felt working for themselves, told her she’d approached the aftermath of Adam’s scheme in the wrong way. She’d thought money was the only thing Adam had taken from them. Who would have thought that Rick would see more where she hadn’t?
Had she been wrong, letting him go back to Boston? Was there was a place for him at Cypress Corners? Her heart lifted a fraction. Was there a place for him with her?
“Maybe,” she whispered to herself. “Maybe.”
She smiled and tapped the counter. “How about a slice of cheesecake, Mom?”
Chapter 20
“Yeah, thanks.” Rick tapped the pen in his hand on the arm of his leather desk chair as he stared out at the gray sky outside his office, waiting for the same answer he’d gotten for weeks now. This afternoon was no different. “Just tell her… Just tell her I called.”
The line went dead and he let out a breath. He turned in his chair and dropped the phone back in the cradle. Why wouldn’t she call him back? It was almost a month since that horrible day out on her dock and she hadn’t tried to reach him. Not once. If he had any pride left, he’d stop calling her. But just the thought of the receptionist saying his name to Harmony made him feel a little better. She’d have to think about him then, at least for a second. She’d have to acknowledge… something.
He should just focus on his job. God knew it took up his time during the day and his mind during the night.
Aside from a stolen afternoon here and there at the health club, his life was all lonely dinners and working until after midnight. But he only had his work. The biggest deal of his career which would prove he was the man for this job.
Chapman was gearing up for a big push, bringing on investors to pour their money into the sprawling development planned for the Aspen property. Aspen. The thought was tempting. He needed a change of scenery. It was unusual for him, but he hadn’t been anywhere since taking this job. Not to a bar or a restaurant since the dinner with Jake, except to coddle some Chapman investors. Maybe he’d fly out to Aspen. Do a little skiing. Do a little drinking. What the hell, right?
Looking out the window he saw the streets below were layered with old snow, brown and sooty even from up here. The city was cold and damp and lonely. His office was climate-controlled, of course. Comfortable enough that he’d shed his jacket and worked in his shirtsleeves. Yet he wasn’t really comfortable, not in his office and not in the city. This was nothing like what home should feel like. He’d never thought about Boston that way before, but he did now.
Jake had taken off for parts unknown a couple of days earlier, and Rick felt his loss keenly. At least he’d talked to his sister for a few minutes last week. The kid sounded okay, if overly cheerful. Something was up, but he didn’t have the strength to worry about it. Besides, who was he to give her advice?
He’d dodged a few more dinner invitations to Chez Chapman. That was a relief. Bill at home was something he’d been spared since he’d left Rick’s mother. He certainly saw his father enough at work. He wouldn’t extend his sucking-up to after hours. Or to Tiffany.
He tried to focus on the file in front of him. What was up with this deal again? Man. Oh, yeah. Where to put the second martini bar. Huge chunks of ice—purportedly carved from the mountains, but that was a crock—through which the different mixtures would trickle down into the waiting customer’s frosty glass. Very trendy. He didn’t even care. He shut the folder.
This was what he’d wanted. Even his talk with Jake hadn’t changed that. He admitted he wanted Harmony, too. He was done groveling. She didn’t want to call him back? Fine.
“Screw it,” he muttered.
“Sounds like an invitation.”
He looked up to find Tiffany in his doorway. She was dressed in her usual attire, short skirt and tight blouse. He could smell her overpowering perfume
from where he sat. Something French, probably. Expensive. Her practiced smile put him as much on edge as her scent.
“I’m busy,” he said.
“Your secretary wasn’t at her desk.” She shrugged and shut the door. “Silly girl. If I worked under you, I’d be… eager to please.”
He let that one go, as obvious as it was. “Like I said. I’m busy.”
She walked to his desk and propped a hip against the edge. Reaching closer, she fingered the folder in front of him. “Work. You and your father. You’re cut from the same cloth.”
Hardly. “Get out, Tiffany.”
She slid closer, her leg brushing his arm. The rasp of her pantyhose sliding over his shirt sleeve scratched against his brain and he pulled away.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Been awhile, Rick?” She reached out and brushed the hair off his forehead. When he jerked his head back at the contact she laughed. “You’re very jumpy.”
That was it. He stood. “Leave me the hell alone, Tiffany. It wasn’t cute the first time and it’s not cute now.”
She pouted her lips. “What are you talking about? I’m just making conversation.”
“You’re my father’s wife, damn it.”
She reached for him again and he cursed.
“That’s a pity, since you want me,” she said. “It’s obvious.”
“The only thing that’s obvious is how pitiful you are.”
“Tell me you don’t want me.” Her eyes narrowed and she pointed a long-nailed finger in his face. “Tell me you haven’t always wanted me.”
He would have laughed if he was watching this on television. Who said lines like that outside of a soap opera? But here? Now? This was just sad.
“Are you kidding me?” he countered. “Why the hell would I want you?”
Her botox-ed forehead didn’t pucker as she raised her eyebrows. “It’s that girl, isn’t it?”
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