Change of Heart (The Flanagan Sisters, #2) (12 page)

“Well, you don’t have to get up right away. I’ll be half an hour in the bathroom. I’ll wake you when I’m out.”

No, that’d be worse, and he suspected she wouldn’t wake him again. He was tempted to ask to join her in the shower, but he remembered her request to take things slowly. It sounded like the guys she’d let get close had used her. Why had no one wanted to get to know her? It baffled him. “I’ll get breakfast. What would you like?”

“I don’t eat breakfast until I get to work. It takes a while for my stomach to wake up.”

Evan frowned. Knowing how busy she was, did she actually remember to eat? “Coffee?” he suggested.

“That would be great.”

Carly grabbed her bag and disappeared down the hall toward the bathroom. A few moments later, he heard the shower running. He got up and flicked on the light. McClane opened one eye, groaned at him, and then closed it and went back to sleep. Lucky bastard.

Evan trudged into the kitchen, turning on lights as he went. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken this early. On auto-pilot, he switched on the coffee machine and opened the fridge. He’d meant to buy something nice for breakfast yesterday, but he’d got caught up in his painting. The best he could offer was toast or cereal. It was just as well Carly didn’t want anything. He put on some bread to toast and made his coffee. He’d forgotten to ask Carly how she had hers so he’d make it when she got out of the shower. The water was no longer running, so she wouldn’t be long.

Spreading his toast with peanut butter, he sat down with his coffee. McClane wandered in.

The smell of peanut butter always excited his dog. With a sigh, Evan got up, put another two slices of bread in the toaster and gave the bulldog one piece of toast. It was gone in seconds and McClane sat, waiting for the next piece. Evan grabbed his bowl and filled it with dog food. McClane ignored it and continued to stare at Evan.

“Last one,” he said sternly as he gave the dog another slice. He wasn’t going to let those puppy dog eyes sway him again.

By the time he’d finished his breakfast, Carly still wasn’t out of the bathroom. Slightly worried, he wandered down the hall. It was silent inside. “Are you all right?” he called.

The door opened. “Just finished,” she said.

Today’s skirt suit was mint green, with a flared skirt. She was almost as tall as he was in those white heels. “You look great,” he said, walking down the hall with her.

“Thanks.”

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Black, please.”

He filled a cup and gave it to her. Then McClane perked up and started to drool.

“Time you went outside,” Evan said, and hustled him outside. There was no way he was going to give him the opportunity to drool over Carly’s clean clothes.

“You didn’t need to put him out because of me.”

“Trust me. He’s a hazard when he starts drooling, and you’d end up with love drool all over your shoes.”

Carly chuckled. “All right.”

“Toast?”

“No, coffee’s fine.”

He checked the time. Quarter to six. He needed to get a move on. “I’ll take a quick shower and then we’ll go.”

She nodded, and he left her there drinking her coffee in his kitchen.

***

G
etting into his car, Evan suddenly realized how grubby it was. Perhaps he had a clean towel he could put down. Before he could check, she was already seated. She was so different in her business clothes, almost untouchable.

As he backed out of the garage, Carly asked, “Do you mind if I check my mail?” She held up her phone.

“Go ahead.” She was a busy woman, and if checking her email now while he drove helped her, he was happy for her to do it.

The drive was mostly silent, with Carly occasionally sighing or groaning as her fingers flew over her smart phone. Then it rang.

Who the hell was calling her at six thirty in the morning?

“Damn it,” Carly muttered and pressed answer. “Morning, Matthew.”

Evan heard an insistent voice coming from the phone, but couldn’t make out any words.

“I appreciate your point of view, but I’m sorry I can’t make it. I have a prior engagement.” A pause. “Yes, I know attended last year, but this year I’m busy.” She closed her eyes. “It’s not my fault you told people I was going to be there. You only sent the invitation to me last week.”

Evan glanced at her as she squeezed her hand into a fist.

“No, I won’t cancel and no, I won’t accept money to attend. Goodbye, Matthew.” She hung up and when the phone rang immediately afterward, she pressed the cancel button.

“What was that about?”

She breathed in deeply and let it out slowly. “I attended a tech college’s open day last year and gave a speech about how technology has helped me. The organizer, Matthew, was under the impression that because I’d attended once, I’d attend every year, but he only told me about it last week. It’s next Saturday and I’ve got a software expo I’m committed to.”

“If you didn’t have plans, would you have gone?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

“It’s my duty to give back to the community.”

“Your first duty is to keep yourself healthy,” said Evan. “You’re allowed to give yourself a day off.”

“I do. Every second week I go to Mama’s. I don’t give that up for anyone.”

“And when do you give yourself a day for Carly – no events, no people, just you and a book, or a movie marathon?”

She frowned at him. “I don’t need to do that.”

“Everyone needs time out from the world, even if it’s only a couple of hours.”

“Hmm.”

He dropped the subject. At least she was thinking about it.

Her phone rang again. “Hi, Hayden,” she said when she answered. “Oh, you’re not well? No, don’t come in. I’ve got the schedule you prepared, I’ll be fine.” A pause. “No, don’t bother calling a temp agency. I can answer my own telephone. You concentrate on getting better.” She hung up.

“Hayden’s sick?”

“Yeah. He sounded terrible. I must send him a get well basket.” Her fingers darted over the phone.

Ahead, the traffic was congested so Evan focused on the road. By the time they’d arrived at Comunidad, Carly’s phone had rung five times and each time her posture stiffened further. Did she go through this every day? It was no wonder she’d fallen asleep on his veranda. Shouldn’t there be some kind of ban on calling people before nine o’clock if it was work-related?

“You can drop me off in the parking lot,” she said, pointing to an underground garage. “It’ll be easier.”

He pulled in and Carly gave him a card to swipe.

“Do you want me to fill in for Hayden today?” he asked, the offer popping out before he thought about it. He didn’t really know what personal assistants did.

She blinked at him. “No. It’s fine. The work he’s doing isn’t urgent and I can answer the phone.”

“If your work phone rings as much as your cell does, you’ll never get anything done.” It was a foolish idea as he had his own work to do, but for some reason he had an urge to help her.

“Those were all calls forwarded from work.”

Evan frowned. “You forward your work calls to your cell on weekends?”

“I don’t like giving my cell number out. Occasionally people need to get in touch with me out of hours about events I’m attending, so I need to be able to be contacted.”

That was insane. “Get yourself a cell just for work then. Surely your purse is big enough for two phones.”

She shook her head. “I don’t take a purse to work. It gives men the wrong impression. All my clothes are made with pockets so I don’t need one.” She opened the car door. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Wait.” He wasn’t ready for her to go. He cupped her face with his hand and drew her closer, brushing his lips against hers.

She sighed and he deepened the kiss, feeling her reaction all the way through him.

A car beeped behind them and Evan drew back, glancing in the rear view mirror as Carly sat back in shock. The car drove around them and she ducked her head.

“Are you hiding?” he asked, not sure whether he should be offended.

“I can’t have my employees see me necking in the car.” She smoothed out her skirt and her jacket.

He chuckled, kind of pleased she was flustered. “Are you free for lunch next Friday?”

She checked her phone. “No. I can do Thursday, though.”

Evan was happy to change days. He’d tell Basil he’d be in on Thursday instead. “Great. I’ll bring lunch.”

She opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again. “That would be nice. See you then.” She got out of the car and walked to the elevator.

She was so fascinating and so frustrating.

And he wanted to know everything about her.

***

A
s Evan arrived home later that morning, his cell rang. It was Carmen.

“I have the plants for you. Would you like me to come and plant them?”

Carmen had come over to his place last week and been appalled at the state of his garden. She’d insisted on taking some cuttings from her garden and said she’d fill the space in no time. Evan had had no clue what that entailed, but had agreed. She seemed more than happy to do it, and he could get some more drawings of her.

He really wanted to crawl back into bed, but instead he said, “That would be great. Come over whenever it suits.” He hung up as McClane trotted out to greet him. Evan gave him a pat. “I hope you haven’t been terrorizing the birds while I’ve been gone.”

His dog panted happily. After he headed inside, Evan checked his cupboard to see what refreshments he could offer Carmen. The pickings were slim. It was time he went shopping.

He finished making a grocery list as a car pulled up outside. Carmen got out with one of the foster girls. He searched his memory . . . Teresa.

Carmen waved to him. “Teresa wanted to help me,” she called as she went around the back of the people mover and opened the trunk. Evan jogged down the steps to help and his eyes almost bugged out of his head when he saw what was in there. These were not a couple of cuttings, these were full-grown plants.

“Carmen you haven’t dug up your whole garden have you?”

She laughed. “Only a few things here and there.”

This was not going to be the short planting session he’d envisioned. This would take all morning. And he could hardly let them do all of the work. “What can I do to help?”

“Leave it to us.”

That wasn’t going to work. He reached in and grabbed a couple of the plants. “Where do you want them?”

***

H
e was right. It was after midday before they finished. The garden beds looked amazing, as if the plants had been there for years. Evan was hot, sweaty, and covered in dirt, but Carmen looked as if she’d spent the morning sipping iced tea on the veranda. He didn’t know how she did it. She’d worked far harder than he had, putting him to shame with her efforts. Teresa, on the other hand, was looking about as exhausted as he figured he did.

“Let me get some drinks,” Evan said, inviting them into the kitchen. He flicked on the air conditioning and poured some cold water. “Thank you so much,” he said, handing the women their glasses. He got out a box of cookies and offered it to them. Teresa took one, but Carmen declined.

“What do I have to do to make sure the plants survive?” he asked. He’d hate for all of  them to die.

“Water them regularly until they are established,” said Carmen. “I’ve given you plants that like the Houston weather, so they should be all right.”

That was a relief.

When they’d finished their drinks, Carmen asked, “Where do you paint?”

“I have a studio. Do you want to see it?” They’d helped him today, so it was the least he could do.

“Yes, please.”

He led them into his studio and let them wander around. Carmen walked straight over to the canvases, but Teresa drifted to the drawings he had scattered over the table. His pencils were spread out everywhere and one notebook was open to a blank page. He recognized the longing in Teresa’s eyes. “Do you draw?” he asked, walking over to her.

She shook her head. “No. Not really.” Her eyes never left the pencils.

Evan remembered that feeling, that intense
want
. After he’d discovered his love of art, he’d begged his parents for some colored pencils. They’d told him he was wasting his time and they couldn’t afford it. He’d been so determined, he’d got himself a paper route so he could buy them himself. From then on, he never went anywhere without some kind of drawing implement and some paper.

“Take a seat,” he offered, passing Teresa the notebook. “Give it a try.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Sure you can. Carmen and I’ll just be talking about the paintings.” He smiled at her and walked over to Carmen who was watching them carefully.

“She is quiet, that one,” Carmen murmured. “You are kind to encourage her.”

It was hardly a kindness, but he didn’t say that. Instead, he said, “Do you like any, Carmen?” He gestured to the paintings, and braced himself, waiting for the criticism. He’d thought he’d moved past his parents’ rejection of his work. Carmen had been nothing but supportive so far, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“They are beautiful. You have an eye for this.”

He took a moment to absorb the praise, the tension leaving him.

“My Carolina bought one, did she not?”

“Yes.” He walked over to his photo album. He always took photos of his work before he sold them. Flicking through, he found the one Carly had bought and showed it to Carmen.

She nodded. “Home and serenity. Two things my baby does not get enough of.”

Evan was surprised by her astuteness.

Together they strolled around the room and returned to the table where Teresa was drawing. Evan looked at her picture – a sketch of him and Carmen – and surprise hit him in the chest. “That’s amazing.”

Carmen said something to the girl in Spanish and Teresa lowered her eyes modestly.

“You must have done some drawing back home,” said Evan.

She nodded.

He went to the cupboard and took out some new pencils and paper. “These are for you,” he said, handing her the items.

“No. No, I couldn’t.” She shook her head.