Almost Like Being in Love (17 page)

She had to give her father credit. He was not one to give away his emotions or his thoughts. His movements were deliberate as he removed his glasses. Pulled a clean, starched handkerchief from his pocket. Cleaned one lens, then the other. Replaced his glasses on his nose. Began to fold his handkerchief.

“Do you think that's wise, Caron?”

Caron thought she'd prepared herself for this confrontation. She'd prayed. Reminded herself that she was an adult. That she could make her own decisions. That she didn't need her father's approval. But somehow she'd forgotten his ability to use one well-aimed sentence to reduce her to a mere teen, trying to defend herself to her all-wise, all-knowing father who did not approve of her actions.

Her bottom lip trembled, but she refused to catch it between her teeth. Or to acknowledge that her face flushed. But she couldn't hide how her breathing ratcheted up, so that her shoulders jerked beneath the soft material of her short-sleeved blouse.

“I do.” Her words were breathy. “I—I know I can stage this home for Kade. I'm excited about the opportunity.”

“I thought you'd learned your lesson about not mixing business and personal relationships.”

“This is purely business between Kade and me. His regular home stager had an emergency and he needs to stage a home on short notice. He offered me the job, and I accepted.”

“I see.”

A whiff of floral perfume scented the air, followed by the sound of Nancy Miller's voice. “I apologize, Russell. I didn't realize you were talking with someone.”

“Come in, Nancy.” Her father came around his desk, leaning on the corner. “My daughter came to tell me that she's taking a temporary job in Colorado.”

“Oh, hello, Caron. I didn't realize that was you.” Nancy remained standing in the doorway. “I don't want to interrupt.”

“You're not interrupting—and this is quite an interesting story. She's working for my former protégé. Kade Webster, as you know, learned everything he could from me about the realty business, thanked me by dating my daughter behind my back, and then walked away to start his own company.”

“I wasn't aware of all those details.”

Caron waited. Now was Nancy Miller's chance to align herself with Caron's father. Confirm in a few short sentences that Caron had made the wrong choice by dating Kade Webster, and that she was making the wrong choice now.

“And we both can probably think of relationships in our pasts we should have avoided, too. Right, Russell?” Nancy's laugh sounded forced.

Her father's jaw tightened.

“I just think we have to let our children find their own way. Make mistakes all their own. We certainly did.”

Nancy Miller was defending her?

With the other woman's words, Caron could leave with some semblance of dignity intact. There was nothing more to be said.

“I have to pack and catch a plane.” Caron backed up into the doorjamb, the impact jarring her spine. She sidestepped around Nancy and found the space to make her exit. “And I'm sure you two have business to discuss.”

“Have a good trip, Caron.” Nancy Miller touched her arm. “Good luck in Colorado.”

Nancy Miller said something, eliciting a response from her father—what it was, Caron couldn't decipher as she moved farther and farther down the hallway. She'd come to tell her father about her decision, and she had accomplished that.

She hadn't expected her father to congratulate her and wish her well. That would have been expecting the impossible.

A
s long as Alex remembered Caron's time in Colorado was short term, he was fine. And as long as he ignored the fact she was working for Kade Webster.

In the end, she'd come back home to Florida. To him.

The drive to the airport was quick, the road empty of traffic, the occasional streetlights providing the only break in the predawn darkness.

“You checked to make sure your flight wasn't delayed?”

“Yes. It's still leaving at seven. I'll be there in plenty of time.” Caron rummaged in her carry-on bag, securing her phone charger in an interior pocket. “Thanks again for taking me to the airport.”

“I don't mind. I'll park and help you carry your suitcases inside when we get there.”

“You don't need to, Alex—”

“I want to.”

“I just hope what I packed in two suitcases will be enough for the next month . . . well, two suitcases and my tote.” Caron
tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Of course, Margo and I can always go shopping, right?”

“I guess.” Alex drained the last of the coffee in the insulated travel cup. “She's picking you up at the airport?”

“No. Kade is paying for a rental car while I'm there. I told you that, didn't I?”

“I don't think so. I guess that makes sense.”

Caron set her bag beside her feet, turning to face him. “I'll be busy working and I don't want to have to ask anyone else for a ride. He was going to put me up in a hotel, too, but Margo insisted I stay with her. I admit that I like this option much better.”

Another mile marker slipped past. They would be at the airport in ten minutes at this rate.

“Caron, I wanted to talk to you about something before you left.”

The early-morning darkness shadowed her face. “Okay. What's on your mind?”

“We've been dating for two years now. And we love each other. We've talked about getting married—” Alex tilted the travel mug to his lips again. Nothing. “I've been thinking about that . . . and you know, why don't we?”

Caron remained still. Silent.

“Did you hear what I said?” He reached for her hand, but she didn't respond to his gesture.

“I did. I'm trying to figure out . . . if you just proposed to me or not.”

“Well, it's not a formal proposal, obviously. I mean, I don't have a ring—”

“Oh. So is this considered a
casual proposal
? Tossing a why-don't-we question at me while we're driving to the airport before dawn when I'm leaving for a month?”

“Like I said, I've been thinking about it—”

“Alex, the last time we talked about getting married you were telling me how much you disliked the idea of a destination wedding in Colorado.” Caron's words ricocheted through the car. “Am I supposed to believe that our . . . our argument caused you to think about proposing to me now?”

“No.”

“Then what did?” Before he could reply, she rushed ahead. “Because if your ‘not formal' proposal was prompted by my leaving town to work for Kade Webster, it feels more like you're marking your territory.”

“Caron, I realize this is less than ideal—”

“Less than ideal? You weren't even looking at me when you sort of asked me to marry you!” Caron's shoulders were rigid, her words rupturing his hopes. “You know I'm not a morning person . . . and I don't even have any makeup on and you didn't even notice that my hair is blond!”

“Your hair is blond?” Alex allowed himself a quick glance. “What does that have to do with me proposing to you?”

“Nothing. And everything.” She sniffled. “And I am not crying. I'm mad.”

Right. The sounds she was making were angry sniffles.

“Can we forget what I said?”

“Yes. Please.”

The lights of the airport loomed ahead. Maybe while they waited in the terminal for Caron's flight he could figure out a way to fix the mess he'd made.

“I think . . . it would be better if you drop me off at the curb.”

“Caron, don't be like this.”

“I'm not
being
like anything.” A sigh filled the car. “I'm tired. The last few days have been stressful. I want to get through security and go sit at my gate, okay?”

“I'm sorry.”

“I know.”

A few moments later, Alex lugged her suitcases over to the curb, his car idling in the no-parking zone. Caron stepped into his embrace.

He pressed a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you.”

She tilted her face, offering him a glimpse of the barest hint of a smile. “I know you do. I love you, too.”

“Forgive me?”

“Of course.” She stepped back. “Now get moving before that security guard comes over here and tells you to.”

“Right.”

“I'll call when I get to Colorado.”

Maybe by then he'd have figured out a way to undo his informal proposal and make things right between them again.

•  •  •

We've talked about getting married . . . I've been thinking about that . . . and you know, why don't we?

Alex's words weighed on her like invisible—and unwanted—carry-on baggage.

Caron slumped into a seat at her gate, setting her leather bag at her feet. She pressed her fingers to her temples, willing away the pressure building there.

What was Alex thinking, tossing a last-minute proposal at her? Was he that insecure about Kade Webster—and that sure of her, thinking she'd be happy with nothing more than a “Why don't we?” for a marriage proposal? Yes, they'd been dating for two years, but she still wanted romance. Still wanted him to put some effort into their relationship.

She understood his long work hours. Sympathized with his family situation. And forgave him when he didn't notice things
like a new hairstyle . . . or realize that she needed more than an offhanded “Will you marry me?”

She'd miss him, but she knew this trip was exactly what she needed.

For the next few weeks, she'd be on her own, experiencing unexpected newfound independence. Untangling herself from the grip of her father's assumptions.

By nightfall, she'd be at Margo's apartment. Again. Unpacked. Ready to face tomorrow.

Maybe not ready.

But she'd give Kade her absolute best effort when it came to staging the house. Work. Go back to Margo's. Work. Go back to Margo's. Toss in some wedding fun with her best friend if time allowed.

All Kade wanted from her was a well-staged home. She could do that, so long as she wasn't lured into the past by the “might-have-beens” that lingered around Kade Webster.

Maybe, just maybe, there'd be time for her to find clarity. Figure her life out.

Maybe in Colorado she'd find the space to hear God better, to discover the answers she needed to move forward with her life.

Who am I, God?

I mean, truly . . . who am I? Not who do I have to be to keep my dad happy . . . Just . . . who am I? I know I should know this by now . . . but I don't. I let someone else fill in the answers for me.

Caron closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of the terminal beginning to fill up with passengers rushing to their gates. Maybe she needed to be more eloquent. More specific. But this early in the morning, with too little sleep and too much travel ahead of her, that's all she could come up with.

She could only hope it was enough.

F
irst day. New job. Clarification—new interim job. Three and a half weeks. Twenty-one days to do what she needed to do to prove herself again. To Kade Webster, the man approaching her with a long-legged stride. Familiar—and yet this was totally unfamiliar territory.

Kade was her boss. She was his employee. So long as she kept that fact straight while she was here, everything would be fine.

“Are you ready to get started?”

“Absolutely.” Caron gripped the handles of her mulberry leather tote. Dug the three-inch heels of her matching shoes into the plush cream carpeting in the waiting area. Pasted on a smile she hoped looked natural—and not overly caffeinated, which she was, thanks to a night spent tossing and turning in Margo's spare bedroom. Last night was a blur of too little sleep mixed with frantic prayer. Kade turned toward the young woman behind the front desk, who rose to meet Caron. “This is Miriam. She's worked with me since day one. She's reliable,
catches on quickly, and keeps everything organized. I never miss a message, thanks to her.”