A Heart's Design

by Natalee Cooper

  I can’t make him believe in himself.

  Jase’s words from last week on his porch had tormented her everywhere, giving her the worst kind of whiplash—from inextinguishable frustration to maddening heartbreak to gutting emptiness. Her father would be disappointed in her.

  “Sorry, Dad. I’m trying to kick this. I really am,” she whispered, brushing a weathered, black and white bird feather from one corner of his stone. A slight wind rustled the leaves above, and she tasted salt on the air.

  Madison wasn’t totally alone. Not really. She had memories. Her home and her father’s business. She was simply a little lost. Had taken the wrong fork in the road.

  But I can get back.

  A flicker of peace stole over her, and she let her head fall back, accepting the sun on her face, hoping it would spread to inch out the gloom on her heart.

  “Can I join you?”

  She lifted her lashes as Eric dropped down on the grass in front of her.

  “Sarah said I might find you here.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve visited them.” Her attention drifted back to the rose on her mother’s marker.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Somehow she knew he watched her. “What for?”

  “Everything.”

  She crowded her brows together as she glanced up. “None of this is your fault.”

  He swallowed several times. “I didn’t realize…” Lines marred his forehead, beneath his light hair. “I hate seeing you like this. I want my Mads back.”

  Her empty laughter carried across the cemetery. “I’m fine. Really. I’m just trying to find my place again.”

  The scratching of a distant bird challenged the peace and quiet, and taking strength from its lead, she spoke what had been on her mind, despite the ripples it might make. “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Maybe after the Heritage Days celebration tomorrow, I should step away from the restoration. By then the city will be onboard and excited for the way the project is going.”

  “What?”

  “Just saying, it might be the right decision.” She ignored the pinch to her heart that walking away created, but for a truly new start, quitting might be the best thing to do.

  “And what about Cutter and Idaho?”

  She pulled at a clump of grass and sifted out a few long blades to rub between her fingers, inhaling their earthy scent but missing the calm it usually brought her. “What about them?”

  “You’re going to walk away from that project, too?” Uncertainty and a touch of shock filled his voice.

  Guilt, confusion, resolution…they each warred inside her. “It’s for the best. Really.”

  “Did he say that?”

  Madison shook her head.

  “What about the company? This is what you wanted.”

  She met the scrutiny harbored in his expression straight on. “Not like this.”

  Eric absently frayed the ends of his sneaker’s laces, making them more of a disaster than they were before. “You’re stepping away because he doesn’t trust you? Or something else?”

  Despite the slight quiver in her voice, she shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  Without an answer, he stood and offered her a hand.

  Slipping her fingers around his, she let him pull her up. “Thanks for being a good friend. You’ve always been there for me, and it means a lot.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s easy.”

  “Maybe for you, but Jase…” Her sigh turned into a groan, yet when the pressure of his finger under her chin silently asked her to face him, she obeyed.

  “I’m sure he’s just…upset.”

  She raised one of her brows. Is he defending him?

  Not that it mattered. If Eric had been there that night on the mogul’s porch, he’d realize the gap between them. The wide, bottomless gap. Jase believed he was too broken. Too incapable. Too messed up.

  Except, niggles of doubt attempted to blind her like the sun glinting off the hoods of the parked cars in the distance. Doubts that said he just didn’t trust her, and she cursed the irresponsible news story that had triggered it all.

  “Who could do that to him?” she said, speaking more to herself. “Only a monster. A heartless human being is the only kind of person who would do that to someone.” The empty reflection in Jase’s eyes from that night haunted her. “He’s hurting so much. Having to relive all that pain.”

  Eric shifted beside her, and she manipulated her ugly thoughts back. Like she’d been doing for the past week. Like she’d done when Jase’s simple business text had come through yesterday to confirm she had the prints for tomorrow’s event.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to unload.” Rising up on her toes, she gave him a light hug. “Thanks for checking on me.”

  A deep flush mottled his cheeks. “Madison, there’s something I need to tell you.” He raked a hand through his hair, giving a quick glance to the headstones. “But not here.”

  Grabbing her hand, he led her to a sidewalk that skirted the cemetery, his pace too quick for the Eric she knew. He didn’t stop or let go until their feet hit cement.

  “Hold up. What is it?”

  He released a heavy breath but kept his focus on the ground ahead. “Before your father died, he asked me to make him a promise.”

  “I know.”

  His head whipped up. “You do?”

  “Sure. You promised you wouldn’t let me settle.” She slowed her steps and cocked an eyebrow. “But, Eric, I’m not settling—”

  “It was more than that. Mads, I didn’t just promise him I’d help you with the company. I promised him I’d be there for you.”

  “And you have been.” She smiled, though a slow chill rushed her veins as he found her hand and twined his fingers with hers.

  “No. I haven’t. I should have…”

  “Don’t.” A slow panic started behind the coldness, and she swallowed, feeling in his touch more than promises made to her father. “We’re good. Okay?”

  “You don’t understand. I need you to listen to me—”

  “No. You don’t. Please. Let’s not do this.” She pled with her eyes, pulling her hand out of his and stepping back.

  “I love you, Madison. I do. I know you don’t want to hear it right now, and that you might not feel the same, but I need you to know.”

  His light eyes were pain-stricken, and she hated that she had no cure.

  “I’m telling you so maybe you’ll understand.” His fingers shook as he ran a hand over his mouth and his head bent. “I told myself I was helping you. Convinced myself I was justified.” He laughed, the bitterness startling. “But truth is, I was jealous of the way he pulled you in.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He took advantage of you, Mads. He’s preyed on everything good and amazing about you, giving nothing back.”

  Helplessness leached into her chest, and she balled her fists against his words.

  “You deserved recognition on the Idaho project. You’ve worked so hard. Only…” He rubbed his hand along his jaw again. “I didn’t know about his past, about the fire and his family. I didn’t mean for… I’m so sorry.”

  When he reached for her, she flinched back. “No!” She jerked a finger at him. “It wasn’t you. You didn’t…You’d never do this to me.” Her voice cracked. “To him.”

  There wasn’t an emotion of his she couldn’t read. And the guilt on his face now crushed her heart. More than her heart. It smeared her trust and confidence in the one person who’d always been an anchor, and her words fell out in a whisper. “How could you?”

  “I don’t know. I was angry. I wasn’t thinking, I just…” His eyes were wide and pleading as he repeated himself. “You deserve so much better.”

  “Angry?” The words scraped like a match, burning through her. “No. Angry is the way Jase looked at me when he thought I leaked his past after he’d confided in me.” Her voice rose as his admission settled into every crevice of her brain. “I stood
there on his front porch, begging him to believe it wasn’t me.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “No…it was just my best friend.” Her hands were white and shaking, her throat raw. “That wasn’t even the worst part. Do you know what he’s lived through? What he’s living through again, because of your actions?” She pressed her eyes shut, feeling every breath come and go. “What am I supposed to do now? I don’t know what to say. I can’t even think.”

  “I’ll talk to him, okay? You don’t need to do anything. I’ll fix this.”

  “You make it sound so easy.” She put her hand to her stomach, nauseous. “I think…maybe you should take some time off.”

  “Madison…”

  She forced her gaze to meet his. “Your choices make you who you are.” Her father’s wise words slipped out just above a whisper, but their truth kept her voice steady. Unwavering. “And I don’t like this person you’ve turned into.”

  With unsteady legs, she moved past him, her steps matching her racing pulse. At her car, she slid into the driver’s seat but for several minutes only sat there, not hearing or seeing anything, only wondering how she’d make it through the celebration tomorrow. When she finally turned the key, a thousand tiny stars of light danced and twisted inside of the car.

  Lifting her wrist, she noticed her father’s charm reflecting the sun’s light. How such a small piece of metal could give so much beauty overwhelmed her. Yet it did. Because it had been shaped and molded and cut just right.

  Madison envied that charm. She’d never sheltered such anger and confusion during her entire twenty-six years as she had in the past year alone. Her father’s greedy cancer, the whole mess with Jase, and now her closest friend. She’d been beat, and beat, and beat upon, until now, alone in her car, her life was anything but beautiful.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Madison brushed her hair to one side and fastened her other earring. The single hoops were surprisingly heavy, unlike the matching necklace. Twisting in the small bathroom to shove an empty hanger into her bag, she bumped her hip on the antique vanity. She rubbed the sore spot, hoping it wasn’t an omen for the night. The fact it was a Saturday and she was at the office didn’t help.

  She should be celebrating the need to work a weekend, celebrating the five new potential clients she’d heard from over the last handful of days, but it was impossible, knowing the business came at the price of the story leaked about her and Jase’s Idaho contract.

  Tonight was it, though. She was going to tell Simon and Jase about stepping away from the Old Theatre restoration. All three of them could move on. Well, two of them would. Her heart wouldn’t be so forgiving, but she needed to start somewhere.

  Running behind on a night this important wouldn’t do, so she gave herself one last glance in the mirror, smoothed down a fold in her ivory faux-wrap dress, then grabbed her purse and keys from her office and hurried out the back door.

  The sky seemed handpicked for the Heritage Days celebration, with its endless blue a perfect backdrop to the stars that would come out in just a couple of hours, and she closed her eyes a moment, soaking in the peace.

  “You’re going to be late.”

  Smiling, she opened her eyes to see her favorite florist. “Some things are worth stealing a minute for.”

  Cisco kept his hands behind his back as he lifted his face toward the sun. “Si. You are very right.”

  She studied the older man with his wrinkles and bushy brows. It had been a while since they’d shared more than a friendly wave, and she wished for more time. With him, her heart didn’t beat so painfully.

  “Will I see you there tonight?”

  “Perhaps. But, before you go…”

  She gasped as he held out a brown box tied with white twine. Cupping the gift in his hands, he nudged her with a small smile to accept it.

  With a careful tug, she undid the bow and opened the lid. Her awe tumbled out in a whisper. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Gladiolus. It means strength.”

  She lifted the cluster of three delicate flowers out of the box and inhaled the scent. The fragrance was subtle, not overdone, just like the corsage. Sarah would giggle at the thought of wearing something so old fashioned, but she blinked back tears.

  “I’ve seen the sadness in your eyes. But I’ve also seen the strength and courage. The one will keep you humble, the others will help you live, no?”

  Madison ran her hand over a coral petal, the scallop-like edges feather soft. “I was right. You are a wise man.” She wrapped her arms around him in a tender hug. “I love it.”

  He gestured for her to hand it over and pinned it to her dress like he’d done it a time or two. Then he took her hands, holding them in his own, close together. “Sei bellissima, cara mia.” Then he shooed her away with a smile. “Nel bocca del lupo. Good luck.”

  She waved good-bye as his words of humility and strength settled inside her, and careful not to crush her new flowers, she slipped into her car, checking to make sure the Old Theatre mock-ups were secured in the backseat.

  When her phone rang, she rifled through her purse to catch it before it went to voice mail. “This is Madison.”

  “Miss Blakeley, is there a problem? I checked the table for the display, and it’s still empty.”

  And there goes my peace, she laughed to herself. “No, Mayor. I ran into a little traffic,” she lied, “but I’m on my way.” Hopefully her voice sounded more confident on the other end of the line than it did in the front seat of her car.

  “We’re scheduled to kick the event off in less than forty-five minutes. I suggest you hurry.” Marty hung up, his irritation lingering in her ear.

  Minutes blurred by as she sped across town, and she was grateful to arrive with ten of them to spare. Opening the back door, she unfastened the large canvas prints, tucking them under one arm, while securing their stands in the other. Somewhere between the two, she shoved her purse, and using her knee, shut the car door, praying her dress didn’t get smudged.

  “Need help?”

  Perfect. She rolled her eyes, and the prints slipped an inch, along with her manners. “I’ve got it,” she said in a curt tone foreign to her own ears.

  Natasha raised one of her perfectly shaped brows. “Suit yourself. The table’s over here.”

  Simon’s sister led her to an enormous white tent, yards of clear round lights stretching across its lines and angles. She pointed out a tall pedestal in the middle of a cluster of tables already decorated with pamphlets and fresh Gerber daisies.

  Madison bent, trying to maneuver the large prints to the floor without dropping them, but, in heels and a dress, she was only making a fool of herself, and she gritted her teeth when Natasha snickered.

  “Here.”

  Pasting on a smile that was more a grimace, she let the other woman take them from her. “Thank you.”

  The beautiful blonde set up the stands and grabbed one of the canvases. Together, they positioned them, making small adjustments so the prints caught the light.

  Taking two steps back, Madison studied the finished display critically. With the little time she’d had to work on them, they turned out well. The print that showcased the theatre’s exterior was vibrant and full of color—like a rich, textured oil painting, but her favorite out of the two was the other. With willowy lines of black on white canvas, the drawing gave an exciting hint of how the grand lobby would shine. The twin staircases stunned, and she felt a spring of excitement. The theatre was going to be brilliant. With a last nudge to one corner, she covered them with a silver cloth.

  “Simon says you were pretty passionate about the lobby.” Natasha dusted off her hands. “You must have given a pretty convincing argument to get your way.”

  Madison eyed her from the side. “And?”

  Slim hands came up. “I meant it as a compliment.”

  “Sure you did. Because we both know what a fan you are of mine.” The pressure from all that had built inside her over the p
ast week, burst. “Was it also a compliment when you told Mr. Cutter what a scheming, social climber I am? Or when you meddled with my clients?” A guilty twinge poked at her conscience for the accusation, but there were still too many coincidences.

  “Oh, please.” Natasha wrinkled her nose. “You act like I stalked your clients and drew them away.”

  “So, you know nothing about the Royce Charter Club? Or his cousin’s restaurant?”

  The woman held her gaze for a beat, then ran her finger under the bright gloss on her lower lip. “Royce and I go way back. When he’d heard you’d put in a bid for the restoration, he asked my opinion of your company. And I only told him my honest thoughts. That you don’t have a lot of experience.”

  “Yes, well, thanks for that.” Her father would be disappointed at the frost in her voice, but the unfairness of the whole thing stung. When an apparent comeback gathered on the other woman’s lips, Madison held up her hand. “Don’t. You know nothing about me. Please quit pretending like you do.” She kept her tone even with the chatter filling the tent. “You haven’t gotten it right once, and I doubt you will. Your pride, or resentment, or whatever it is, is like a concrete wall—one I don’t have the time or desire to chisel through.”

  “I only called it like I saw it.”

  “Excuse me, but when exactly did you have time to see anything about me?” A few heads turned their way, and she lowered her voice. “Listen. I don’t want to argue with you, but I do want to make something clear. I may be a little naïve compared to others in this industry and still have a lot to learn, but I won’t be bullied.” She found the charm on her bracelet, her father’s small gift reminding her of her strength—a strength Cisco had seen in her, too. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Conviction, deep and rooted, took heart inside of her, and she stepped around Natasha, unable to believe she’d almost bowed out of a job at the first big hurdle.

  “That news story really wasn’t you?”

  Madison’s steps faltered, and she turned just enough to look back.

  Natasha guarded her features, but there was a real question in her eyes, as if she might be willing to accept her answer.