Find Wonder In All Things (29 page)

“Because?” she encouraged.

“I don’t know — it’s just that he loved Fiona so much. He was devastated when she died. I don’t know how much he told you about her.”

“Quite a bit, actually.”

“Then I’m sure you know; she was a special girl — beautiful, good, extremely bright. John’s a smart guy and Heather . . . ” He paused. “Well, he and Heather just seem different in some pretty important ways.”

“I see.”

“John found his soul mate in Fiona, and then he lost her. I didn’t expect him to get over that in a matter of a few months.”

Laurel didn’t comment.

“But maybe Heather and John’s differences were what drew them together. I hope it works out for them,” he went on.

“Me too.”

“If anyone deserves happiness, it’s John.”

She smiled again, and James realized he didn’t want to be talking about John and Heather; he wanted to be talking about Laurel and James. He was interrupted by the dry, slightly nasal voice of Cooper Edwards.

“Laurel, dear . . . Oh, hello again . . . ” He paused, expecting another introduction.

“James,” they chorused, before sharing a smile.

Cooper looked back and forth between the two of them. “Right. Laurel, the Dearingers had a question about ceramic glazes, and I told them you were the person to ask.”

“Excuse me,” she said softly.

“Of course. Gotta take care of business,” James replied, trying to disguise his annoyance.

“Thanks for being a good sport, Jay. I knew you’d understand,” Cooper said to James, “being an entrepreneur yourself.”

Cooper took Laurel’s arm in a protective gesture and led her away. She stepped aside to shake him off. “I can walk, Cooper.”

“I wasn’t sure if you could in those shoes,” he said in a silky voice. “They do marvelous things for your legs, but they can’t be very good for standing on your feet all evening.”

She rolled her eyes, and he laughed as if he were teasing a child who couldn’t take a joke.

Laurel spent the next several minutes talking with the Dearingers, and then Cooper led her to someone else — and someone else and someone else. James stood, unsmiling, watching her. When she caught him looking, he turned away and joined Crosby in conversation with a group of art patrons, and Cooper continued to monopolize her attention for the next half hour.

James took another swig of his beer as he watched Edwards parade Laurel about the room as if she were a prize poodle. She looked miserable, and James couldn’t figure out why she wouldn’t just tell the guy to get lost, but then, she never would say anything like that to anyone — and that had always been the problem. She wouldn’t stand up for herself, not then and, evidently, not now. Unless . . .

He put the empty bottle down and sighed. Was she miserable because of Edwards, or was she merely uncomfortable at the necessity of promoting herself? Perhaps she was grateful for Cooper’s guiding presence at her side. He needed to regroup — to think this through. After his conversation with Benwick, James hadn’t expected any competition for her. That was a stupid assumption on his part. Then, his heart stopped for a moment.
If Cooper Edwards is a family friend, could her parents persuade her to . . . ?
No, this couldn’t be happening to them all over again. If that was the case . . . well, he wasn’t going down without a fight. A twenty-year-old James Marshall might have been young and stupid enough to walk away from her, but at twenty-eight, he was made of sterner stuff and had become used to getting what he wanted.

She was right all those years ago when she told him the mountain laurel was poisonous. This Mountain Laurel had certainly poisoned him: spoiled him for life and ruined him for any other woman.
So, Marshall, what are you going to do about it?

One thing was certain, he needed to leave before he lost his temper. That night was too important to her, and he wouldn’t embarrass her with a confrontation. He said an abrupt good night to Crosby, who looked confused but didn’t stop him from leaving. As James approached the door, Laurel caught up to him at last.

“Hey,” she said softly, her hand on his elbow, “are you all right? You’re not leaving already, are you?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty tired. It was a long flight, and anyway, you’re busy. I don’t want to get in the way.”

“You should stay, James; there’s going to be music later — local talent. You’ll like that — that’s worth staying for.”

“I don’t think so, thanks.” He cast a surreptitious glance around the room, frowning when his gaze landed on Cooper. A mirthless chuckle escaped him. “Your warden is looking for you again.”

She turned to see who he meant, and when she turned back, James was gone.

Chapter 24

The following day, Laurel found herself trying to shake off a foul mood — a rarity for her. Part of it was exhaustion from late hours the night before, but a big reason for her irritability was her so-called mentor. Cooper was beginning to annoy her beyond her limits, and Laurel had pretty high limits. He had a proprietary air when he was around her as if he owned her. Yes, he played a key role in securing her the art show, but he acted like that entitled him to micromanage her life and her time. For a woman who had spent the past four years in frequent solitude, having someone always in her business was becoming unbearable.

There had been two bright spots in the previous evening: one was meeting Jack and Delores Dearinger. Delores’s interest in Laurel’s pottery was genuine and gratifying. She had bought some pieces at the Benton craft fair three years earlier, and was impressed with their durability and functionality. Pleased to discover Laurel at a larger, regional fair, Delores had a list of questions for her: Was she interested in expanding her business? Was she wedded to producing single pieces or had she ever considered selling designs for mass distribution? Would Laurel be interested in talking to her husband, Jack, a manufacturer, about a collaboration? And by the way, who was that nice-looking young man she was talking to earlier, and why did he keep staring at them? The last question she asked with amusement, and it made Laurel whirl around and then blush profusely when she saw whom Delores meant.

And that was the second bright spot in the evening: James. James, striding in and talking to Crosby. James, monitoring her every move from the sides of the room. James, telling her how happy he was for John and Heather. But the highlight of the evening — and the lowlight — had been James’s departure. It was the lowlight because he left, but it was the highlight, because after thinking a little, she realized that he possibly left because he was jealous of Cooper.

Cooper — of all people! Oh, she would admit that when she first met the man, he seemed mildly appealing. However, the reality of Cooper was far less intriguing than the initial impression. Laurel had been flattered by his interest in her. After all, how much male attention had she ever garnered living on a mountain in southeastern Kentucky? Since college, she hadn’t dated anyone, but then no one could ever live up to . . .

James passed in front of her mind’s eye once again: tall, broad-shouldered, self-assured, and handsome. And brooding — maybe because of her. She was more than flattered by that possibility; she was just plain thrilled.
But how am I supposed to let him know that if he keeps running off?

Laurel slipped on jeans and a t-shirt and went to meet Adrienne Smith for breakfast before the last morning of the fair.

A bell rang as she opened the door of the coffee shop. Adrienne looked up from a corner booth and gave Laurel an excited wave. Laurel slid into the seat across from her.

“Morning there, Miss
It
Girl,” Adrienne teased.

“‘Miss It Girl?’ What do you mean?”

“You were quite the charmer last night. Now don’t deny it, and you’re proud of yourself, too. It’s written all over your face that you had fun at the reception.”

Laurel looked down at the menu, trying to hide her sheepish smile. “Yeah, I guess I did — a little bit.”

“Uh-huh. I saw you talking to the Dearingers. Do you have any idea who that man is?”

“Delores’s husband? The manufacturer?” She thanked the waitress who had just brought her hot tea.

“Yes, the manufacturer! He’s only one of the wealthiest men in the Southeast. Has clothing factories all over North Carolina and Virginia and looking to expand into housewares. That’s why he’s here — to look at dishware, woodworking, glassware — trying to decide what to move into next. Meeting him was a big coup, Laurel, if you want to sell some of your designs.”

“Wow, I didn’t know it was that big a deal. I wonder why Cooper didn’t give me a heads-up.”

“Cooper Edwards?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Adrienne shifted in her seat and ran her finger around the rim of her coffee mug. “Maybe because he doesn’t want you to achieve any real success on your own.”

Laurel looked at her friend, eyebrows raised.

Adrienne cleared her throat. “So, tell me again: How well do you know Cooper?”

“Well, he’s an old college friend of my dad. I saw him last summer at a craft fair in Lexington. He helped me get into this event by introducing me to Neil Crenshaw.”

Adrienne looked at her with a forthright, unwavering gaze. “Are you sleeping with him?”

Laurel almost choked on her tea. “What?!”

“You heard me; are you sleeping with him?”

“Do you mean Cooper or Crenshaw? Not that the answer would be any different.”

Adrienne snickered. “I meant Cooper.”

“Absolutely not! I mean, not that he’s repulsive or anything, but . . . no, I’m most definitely
not
sleeping with him.”

Adrienne gave Laurel a piercing look. “You do know that’s what people are saying, don’t you?”

“Huh?” Laurel was floored. “Who? What people?”

“The organizers of the fair, the other artisans, some of the business people.”

“I can’t believe this! Don’t these people have anything better to do than gossip?”

Adrienne shrugged. “Not really, no.”

“Why would they think that about me?”

“It’s not you they’re thinking that about — it’s him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s his trademark, his standard operating procedure, his MO.”

Laurel opened her mouth, horrified, and then shut it again.

Adrienne went on. “He is kind of infamous for having affairs with young women just starting out in their careers: artists, writers, models, musicians, whatever. He likes to mentor them along, play the big shot, introduce them to his influential friends, and then he gets tired of the girl and moves on to someone else. This can’t be news to you. I thought you said he was a friend of your dad.”

“They hadn’t seen each other in a long time, not until last summer. I wondered why Cooper didn’t mention any family.”

“Cooper’s wife finally had enough of his games and left him about three years ago.”

“Good for her.”

“Yeah, I agree — good for her. Honestly, I was hoping you weren’t seeing Cooper, but I didn’t want to say anything.”

“Why ever not? You could have warned me.”

“It’s not that simple. When I found out he was being seen around with you — I mean, he knows your dad. It’s possible that he
was
trying to settle down, and with someone levelheaded like you, I thought maybe he was serious about it this time. If that were the case and you were in a relationship with him, how could I say anything?”

“So what made you decide to tell me? What changed your mind?”

“Three things: one, I overheard him talking last night to one of his friends about how being ‘settled’ couldn’t hurt his standing with his colleagues. Two, he told Neil all about how he was ‘helping you with your little project.’ Then I knew it was just the same old sleazy Cooper talking.”

“And three?”

“Three, you just told me you weren’t sleeping with him, which probably shows pretty good judgment on your part.” She took a sip of coffee. “Oh wait, there’s another reason . . . ”

“Yes?”

“I saw you talking to James Marshall” — her voice boomed like an emcee’s — “Most Eligible Bachelor of Silicon Valley.” She fanned herself. “Oh my, he’s a much better deal than Cooper Edwards on all counts: young, rich, smart, single, and good-looking too. That strong jaw and those stormy green eyes. So serious — mm-mm, sexy!” Adrienne was teasing her, and she enjoyed the embarrassed reaction she was getting. “I bet he’s a firecracker in bed.”

“He is,” Laurel said in a dreamy voice before she caught herself.

Now, Adrienne sputtered her drink. “He is? He is?!” She lowered her voice to an excited whisper, “Girl, are you getting some of that hunky millionaire on the side?”

“No!” she looked around, mortified. “I’m not sleeping with him either.”

“But you said . . . ”

Laurel just looked at her and rolled her eyes. Adrienne’s eyes and mouth opened into big round O’s. “You have a history? With James Marshall? Wait . . . Ohmigod! He’s ‘Jim Dandy’ isn’t he? That guy you were so sprung on freshman year? The guy who called you every Tuesday night at 8 p.m. without fail? I knew I recognized the name! Laurel! Holy shit! And now he’s back here making goo-goo eyes at you across crowded rooms. Why on God’s green Earth are you sitting here having breakfast with me instead of him? What are you waiting for?”