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Never Say Never (Lakeview Contemporary Romance Book 3)

Page 14

by Melissa Hill


  “Well, tell her I said congratulations,” she said. “And say hello to Kate.” She paused slightly before adding, “And tell Olivia I was asking for her too, of course.”

  “Don’t you have her number? I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”

  “Oh, that’s right, sure I have,” Robin said quickly. “I might give her a call.”

  “Do. She really would be thrilled, Robin. She often asks about you and I know she’d love to hear how you’re getting on.”

  Robin bit her lip. “You should come over some time,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “You’d really enjoy it and I haven’t seen you in so long –”

  “But when are you coming home again, Robin?” countered Leah. “It’s been years now. I know your parents have visited, but don’t you miss home at all? Don’t you miss us? We hardly know what’s going on with you these days.”

  “There’s nothing much going on at all, Leah,” Robin said, laughing nervously. She didn’t want to get into a conversation like this. “I’m sure your own life is a lot more interesting. As I said, Ben and I are working hard at the moment, but there’s nothing much else happening.”

  “Well, try and keep in touch more often, OK? You might not miss us, but we miss you, me in particular.”

  Robin was touched. “Thanks, Leah. And believe me I do miss you, but as I said I have a life here now and this is my home.”

  “You don’t think you’ll ever move back?” Leah asked, and Robin knew she was faintly shocked at the thought that there was a good chance she might not.

  “Certainly not at the moment, anyway. Then she added, hoping to lighten the tone, “I’m up to my eyes in credit-card debt!”

  “I’m not surprised – with all that temptation!” Leah sounded decidedly envious. “Listen, now that I think of it, will you try and get a copy of the new Godiva catalogue? I need to keep an eye on what the competition are doing – I wish!”

  “No problem,” Robin answered. “I’ll get on it straight away, and listen, I’ll let you go, this call will be costing you a fortune.”

  “It is, but not to worry, you’re worth it. Speak to you soon!”

  Leah rang off and Robin replaced the receiver, a little sad that their conversation had ended, but at the same time relieved that Leah seemed to have forgotten her earlier enquires about when she would next be returning home.

  As far as she was concerned, it wouldn’t be any time soon.

  21

  “Mornin’, you.” The following morning Ben reached over and planted a light kiss on Robin’s forehead, waking her up. She’d had a couple of glasses of wine the night before and had stayed up late watching crap TV. Suddenly she realised she couldn’t remember going to bed or hearing Ben come in. He couldn’t have been working that late on a Friday night, surely? Recalling her conversation with Leah, her stomach gave a fearful flip.

  “Morning to you back,” she replied before adding, tentatively, “What time did you get in last night?”

  Ben swung his legs out of bed. “Not sure, sometime after one, I think. You were flat out on the sofa when I came in. I had to carry you to bed.”

  “Was I?” Robin couldn’t focus on trying to remember – she was too busy worrying about what was keeping Ben out until one o’clock in the morning. “Did you go out after work with Dave, or something?”

  “No way – I was shattered!” There was little sign of a lie or evasiveness in either his tone or expression. “I thought I’d never get it done in time, but luckily I did.”

  “Well, whoever he or she is, I hope they’re happy,” Robin couldn’t keep the petulance out of her tone, “because I’ve hardly seen you this last week.”

  “Oh, I think she’ll be happy,” he said, cheerily. “In fact, I think she’ll be over the moon when she gets a load of this.”

  Typical Ben, Robin thought, completely oblivious to subtlety – no, just completely oblivious full stop. Here she was, trying to let him know that she was teed off at him for all these mysterious late nights, and there he was letting it go right over him.

  Robin tried a different tack. “What was so important that kept you in the office every night this week?” she asked, yawning as she pulled a sweater and some jog-pants out of the wardrobe.

  “Come here and I’ll show you,” he said, his expression mischievous, and Robin suspected that whatever dumb presentation or corporate brochure it might be, she had better pretend be impressed.

  But when Ben led her into the living-room and pointed out the slim booklet lying on the coffee table, she didn’t have to pretend anything.

  “Oh, my goodness – it’s amazing!” she said, studying Ben’s work and his amazing computer-aided illustrations.

  Kirsty had recently suffered another bout of severe hayfever, and last weekend while visiting, Robin had picked up the beanie toy she had given her at the hospital, and come up with a silly little story about an alligator that also suffered from hayfever.

  She hoped it might help teach Kirsty about trying to control her exposure to pollen and to take her medicine. ‘Atchoo’ was a big, strong and very adventurous alligator, but he was always running into trouble as a result of his allergies. The moral of the story was that Atchoo could have lots more adventures if he looked after himself and took his medicine when he was supposed to.

  Kirsty was fascinated by the tale, and made Robin tell it over and over again that afternoon. Upon their return from the house, Robin had written down the story from beginning to end, so that she wouldn’t forget it between then and the next time she saw Kirsty.

  Ben had obviously ‘stolen’ her scribbled notes for the story, had come up with some cute graphics and had reproduced the entire story from beginning to end in attractive font, along with stunning animal illustrations.

  “Atchoo the Alligator – cool, huh?” Ben was leafing through the pages. “It’s a great story and Sarah was raving about it, so I thought, why not give Kirsty something she can keep, something to remind her of Atchoo’s adventures? It might convince her that it’s OK to take her inhaler in school, that it’s cool to be a little bit different.”

  “Oh, Ben, this is just incredible!” Robin said, putting a hand to her mouth as her eyes wandered through the story. She marvelled at the amount of work he had put into the graphics. “This is what you’ve been working on all week?”

  “Well, I knew we’d be going up there today so …” he shrugged as if it was no big deal, but by his beaming smile she knew he was delighted by her reaction.

  “She is just going to love this,” Robin cried, awed by this thoughtfulness. What a lovely, considerate, gesture! And here she was thinking he was out having it off with someone or other. She should have thought more of him, she should have known Ben was a far better person than that.

  Again, Robin wondered what on earth she had ever done to deserve such a kind, loving, and gentle man like Ben McKenna. This was truly incredible.

  They visited Kirsty that same day, and as expected, she adored her personalised copy of Atchoo the Alligator.

  “I never knew I had such a talented brother!” Sarah was equally thrilled, and hopeful that Atchoo’s experiences and the instructions in the book would help Kirsty feel more at ease.

  “Hey, I can’t take all the credit – it’s Robin’s story,” he said, ruffling his girlfriend’s hair.

  Robin was secretly thrilled that the little rocky period she’d been imagining was over.

  “Can I show it to the girls in school, Mom?” Kirsty asked.

  “No, hon, Uncle Ben and Auntie Robin worked very hard on your storybook. It might get ruined in school.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Ben said easily. “The paper quality isn’t the best so it probably will get wrecked. In any case I’ve got it saved on the PC, so I can always print out another copy.” He stroked Kirsty’s dark curls. “You can show it to your class if you like, kiddo.”

  “Yay!” Kirsty cried happily.

  Robin had to smile at Ben�
��s so easily adopted Americanisms. She’d picked up a few expressions herself over the years, but compared to her, Ben had only been here a wet week. He was worse than those who went to London for a weekend visit, and then came back asking for ‘arf a laager, mate’.

  “Just be careful you don’t get sacked for using company equipment, Ben,” Sarah said, her face worried as the thought struck her.

  “For printing out a teeny insignificant booklet like that? Not a chance.”

  BUT BY THE FOLLOWING WEEKEND, Ben had to print out ten more copies of Atchoo the Alligator.

  Robin had been at work one day mid-week when she got a call from Sarah.

  “Hi, what’s up?” she asked, feeling slightly concerned. Sarah usually called only if something was wrong with Kirsty. “How’s Kirsty?”

  “She’s great,” Sarah said cheerfully. “She’s been using her inhaler properly ever since you and Ben gave her that little book.”

  “Great.”

  “But the thing is, well, you know she brought it to school with her?”

  “Yes?” Robin suspected now that she knew the real reason for the call. The flimsy copy of Atchoo had already come apart.

  But she was wrong.

  “Well, Kirsty must have shown it to one of her teachers, because just this morning I got a call from the principal asking where they could pick up a copy.”

  “What?” Robin instinctively checked the date on her computer screen to reassure herself that it wasn’t April 1st. Sarah, like her playful older brother, was no stranger to playing tricks on people.

  “I’m serious. I explained the situation to her, and she wants to know how to go about getting more copies. She asked if you wouldn’t mind giving her a call.”

  “She’s looking for printouts of the story?”

  “I think so. She thought it was a great idea. Will I give you her number?”

  “Just let me get a pen.” Robin was intrigued and also a little bit proud of the fact that the school had been so impressed. When Sarah had finished reciting the number, she rang off, and immediately Robin rang Kirsty’s school.

  “Hi, Robin Matthews here – Sarah Freyne asked that I contact you.”

  The principal was very friendly. “Robin, hi, thanks so much for calling. I understand you’re responsible for that neat little storybook Kirsty brought to school last week.”

  “Yes, well, I wrote the story, but the illustrations were done by Kirsty’s Uncle Ben.”

  “Well, I must admit it’s very well written. Are you a children’s writer by profession, Ms Matthews?”

  Robin burst out laughing but she was pleased by the thought of it. “Gosh no – I work in finance.”

  “Well, you certainly have a way of getting through to children, especially children like Kirsty.”

  “She’s been having a tough time of it with her asthma lately. I just thought this might help.”

  “It’s difficult for children, and Kirsty’s not the only one having problems. That’s why I think this is such a great idea. Do you know I have at least three other children in Kirsty’s grade alone suffering from asthma? Not to mention the kids in the other grades.” She sighed. “Sometimes I think all that talk about air-pollution is correct. It can’t be good for kids. Anyway, I asked Kirsty to let me keep the book for a day or two, and I brought it along to our most recent parent/teacher meeting. When I showed it to the parents of the kids with asthma, and told them the kind of effect it had on Kirsty, they went crazy for it.”

  “They did?”

  “Yes, they all wanted a copy. So, that’s why I called Mrs Freyne today. I wanted to know what bookstore stocked it, so I could tell the parents where to get it. But then she told me that it wasn’t in bookstores, that it was just something you guys had done on computer.”

  Robin resisted the urge to laugh. It was nice, though, to think that something she and Ben had done would be so helpful to kids with asthma. Robin could have done with something similar when she was in school, as not only did it help take the stigma out of being different, it also meant that you had something the other kids couldn’t get. Robin was pleased for the little girl.

  “Well, look, leave it with me. I’ll talk to Ben and see if he can get some more copies printed out for you.”

  “The parents are only too happy to pay you, of course.”

  “Oh, no, that won’t be necessary!” Robin was embarrassed now.

  “Believe me,” the principal informed her, “if this little book can help parents and teachers educate these kids on how to control their asthma, it’s worth anything.”

  “No, please. We’d be delighted to help. I’m sure it won’t be a problem but I’ll check with Ben and give you a call in a few days – OK?”

  “That would be great, thank you.”

  The principal rang off and, as she hung up the phone, Robin couldn’t help but smile.

  Ben would get a right kick out of this – that was for sure.

  22

  Leah jumped when the phone rang. She had been run off her feet all day trying to get a huge batch of product out to a regular supplier, and had been so immersed in her work that she had almost forgotten where she was. The chocolates needed to be ready for collection first thing the following morning, and with the way things were going, Leah thought, her face flushed from exertion, she’d be here till all hours trying to get it done.

  The order had come in only that afternoon, but Bags n’ Bows were one of her best customers, and Leah had no intention of letting them down.

  Still, at that very moment, surrounded by ribbon and tulle, Leah sorely regretted her decision to advertise her gift-boxes as ‘hand-wrapped’. Why couldn’t she have had generic boxes and be done with it? But Leah knew that much of her custom derived directly from the fact that the chocolate boxes looked so appealing.

  She cursed inwardly as, partially-wrapped box in one hand and ribbon in the other, she reached for the handset.

  “Hi love, what time will you be home?” Josh asked cheerfully.

  “I’m not sure – I’m really up to my eyes here,” she answered, unable to keep the irritation out of her tone. She’d be home when she was home.

  “Do you need a hand?” he asked, and Leah bristled. Of course she needed a hand but there was no point in Josh coming all the way over here to ‘help’. He had tried that before, and all he had succeeded in doing was to annoy Leah and slow her down. Not to mention the time he packed twelve full cases of chocolates, which Leah had first thought was terrific, until she realised that he had failed to include the protective bubble-wrap which kept the boxes from hitting against one another. The boxes had been squashed and completely ruined in transit, and the customer had been livid. Leah had spent almost a full day trying to calm the customer down, and the rest of the week replacing the order. Sometimes, Josh had absolutely no cop-on.

  “I’ll be fine, Josh, thanks, but look, I can’t really talk – there’s way too much to do here.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come over? I could bring a takeaway. It seems like I haven’t seen you in days.”

  “Well, that’s because I’ve been very busy.” The shop would be fitted out and ready within a few weeks, and Leah was working flat out to get everything ready to move in.

  “But you’re always busy, Lee. I know things are a bit up in the air at the moment, but who goes in to work on a Sunday?”

  “Josh, it’s not as though I could get anyone else to do it, is it?” she answered testily. Yes, she had gone back to the workshop last Sunday, so she could get a head-start on the following week’s stock. Well, it was either that, or lounge around all afternoon on the sofa drinking tea and reading newspapers. If there was work to be done, then it had to be done, end of story.

  “It could have waited. You need time for yourself too, you know – and for us.”

  Great, the last thing she needed was a bloody guilt trip about how hard she was working these days. Of course, she was working hard. Wasn’t she trying to get
everything ready for the shop, while at the same time trying to keep the day-to-day stuff running? Why couldn’t he understand that this was a crucial time for her, and that she just didn’t have the luxury of running home, just because he was bored and had no one to play with?

  “Josh, I’m sorry but I just don’t have the time for this,” she said to him.

  “Leah, it’s half-seven in the evening. You’ve been in there since six this morning. You’re killing yourself!”

  Oh no! Leah thought, checking her watch. It couldn’t be! But it was, which meant that she would be home a lot later if she didn’t get off the phone.

  “Josh, I really have to go, OK? You get whatever you want for dinner, I’ll grab something on the way home.”

  “But what time will you be –”

  “I’ll be home when I’m home, Josh, right?” Leah felt like a heel when there was silence at the other end. “Look, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be short with you. But you have no idea how much there is to do between now and the opening.”

  “What’s the point of putting yourself in hospital in the meantime, love? Because with the way things are going, that’s what will happen.”

  “I know, I know, and look I promise this weekend we’ll do something, OK?” Just please, get off the phone and let me go back to work, she urged silently.

  “OK?” she repeated, when Josh didn’t answer.

  “Yeah, OK, see you later then.”

  “Great.” Still holding the chocolate box in one hand, Leah hung up and returned to her work-desk. Of course she was working hard – with all that was happening at the moment, what else did Josh expect? Andrew Clarke had put a lot of faith in her by investing all that money in her business, and in her talents, and Leah was determined not to let him down.

  “HE’S JUST BEING SO childish about it.”

  A few days later, Leah tried to explain her annoyance to Olivia. This time Josh was at work and, as she was up to date with her stock, for once she was at a loose end.

 

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