Moonlight and Margaritas (23 page)

It took Renee a moment to catch on to his lack of enthusiasm.  "But something's wrong, isn't it?  You should be ecstatic, but you're not."

Smart woman, his sister.  He shrugged.

She pulled a chair around to his side of the desk and sat next to him, her eyebrows arched with concern.  "Is this someone you met in Cabo?" 

He nodded.

"Does she live there?"

"No, she lives in Carmel."

"So, you came home to be closer to her?"

"No.  She's not interested in being closer.  We shared a few glorious days together, and then she ditched me for her real life."  He gave her a solemn look.  "We had this agreement that there were no strings attached, so even if I did manage to locate her, she probably doesn't want to see me."

Renee snorted.  "Well, that's a ridiculous agreement."

"Yeah."  He rolled his eyes.  "Tell me about it."

"Is she married?"

"No."  And apparently, she never wanted to be again.

"So what would happen if you tracked her down, anyway?  Do you think she really liked you?  Or would she consider you a stalker?"

He picked up a pen from his credenza and twirled it between his fingers.  He'd been considering that exact idea from the moment he'd walked out of her hotel room.  "I'm not sure."  He looked at his sister, someone he'd trusted his entire life.  "There was something between us.  I know she felt it, too.  I just…"  He sighed in frustration.  "I think she's scared of a serious relationship or something."

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Joe gave her a pointed stare.  "Not funny."

His cell phone rang, and he jumped.  It could be her, he thought, like he had every time it had rung during the past few weeks.  He ripped open his desk drawer to retrieve his phone, but the caller hung up after only one ring.  He glanced at the caller ID, but only a number was listed, no name.  "Shit," he muttered under his breath.

"Oh, wow."  Renee widened her eyes.  "You're in big trouble, Mr. I'm-going-to-live-my-life-wild-and-free."

"What are you talking about?"  He tossed the phone back in his drawer and closed it.

"I know you thought that might be her.  Don't deny it.  You dove for that phone like your life depended on it."  Her expression grew cocky.  "You're in love with her."

"Not possible.  I only spent a week with her."

"Ha.  I knew I'd love James for the rest of my life approximately two seconds after I first talked to him, so don't give me that."  When he remained silent, she punched him in the arm.  "Come on.  Give."

"Maybe."  Oh, hell.  There were no maybes about it.  "Okay, I think I'm in love with her, or smitten by her, or some cursed thing."

"I knew it."  She grabbed his hand and squeezed.  "There's no question.  You've got to find her and let her know how you feel.  I know the perfect person in James's office who can help us locate her."

In the workroom of her flower shop, Elena pried open the top of the packing crate that had been delivered right before closing the previous afternoon.  Commitments kept her from opening the crate the day before, but she'd come in an hour early this morning, just to view the treasures inside.  She was excited to see her newest acquisitions, and she was a little surprised that they'd arrived so early.  It had only been two weeks since she'd placed her order. 

She reached into the box, removed the packing material and lifted out the first vase to examine it.  "Beautiful."  The sound of her voice echoed through the empty shop.

The intricate detail of the blue-on-white Talavera vase astonished her.  It had the appearance of flowers on lace, with swirls and diamonds all thrown together.  Busy, but it worked.  It would need a simple arrangement, yet something big to compliment it.  Perhaps something red or white.  Or yellow.  Yellow sunflowers would really set it off.

She thought of the dirty young man she and Joe had met in Cabo who had worked with his cousin who'd painstakingly added each detail to the unique vases and pots.  The young man hadn't been hard to locate with Mr. Gelina's help.  She'd called the hotel, spoken to her concierge, and within the day, he'd called her back with information.  It turned out Mr. Gelina's sister knew the family and had agreed to be a point of contact between her and the young man.  She considered herself lucky to sell the work of such an amazing artist, not to mention how gratifying it was to be able to help the young man's family have a better life. 

The front door chimed in the background.  "I'll be right with you," she called out, not happy that she had an anxious customer who couldn't read the hours of operation and wait until she opened.  She probably shouldn't have left the door unlocked. 

First though, she wanted one more peek.  She bent over and pulled out the next distinctive creation.

"Well, Elena.  I see that you're continuing with this farce of a business."

She jerked upright and turned around, her defenses instantly in place.  Richard stood, looking lethal in a black designer suit, his blonde hair barely showing a hint of gray.  He'd always been handsome, but she'd learned the hard way that his beauty didn't penetrate the surface.

"Richard."  Just her luck, he'd caught her in an unladylike position with her behind in the air.  "What are you doing here?"

"I came to speak with you since you won't return any of my phone calls."

He had that part correct.  He hadn't cared to talk to her much during their marriage.  She didn't care to talk to him now.  "I can't imagine what we would need to discuss."  She leaned back against a counter.

"Our daughter, for one."  Barely concealed distaste contorted his features, and she knew it stemmed more from the fact that he could no longer control her, than it did from her choice of business.  He couldn't make her sell the shop, couldn't make her answer her phone, and couldn't make her agree that Cassie should go to Stanford.  She reveled in her freedom, and he hated it.

"What could there be to discuss about Cassie?  She's a beautifully grown woman despite her parents.  The last time I checked, she was making her own decisions and doing quite well."

"How can you say she's doing well when she's not living up to her full potential?"  He twisted the cufflink on one wrist before moving to the other.  She'd been married to him long enough to recognize that action signified great agitation.  "I let her go to Berkeley one year, hoping she'd come to her senses, but she hasn't."

She almost took pity on the tortured man.  "It's her choice, Richard.  Her life."

He narrowed his eyes, and she could see his measure of control slipping.  "She's your daughter, too.  Why don't you want what's best for her?  You can't possibly hate me so much you'd jeopardize her future just to get even with me."  True anguish creased his beautiful face.

Good Lord.  Did he truly believe that she'd supported Cassie to spite him?  She shook her head.  "Richard, believe it or not, I don't hate you.  We both made a mistake in choosing the person we married.  You know I can't live my life the way you want me to."  How many times had she told him that exact phrase?  "I have to live it my way.  So does Cassie." 

She felt compelled to say something to lighten his worries, not necessarily for him, but because he was her daughter's father.  "You have to let her make her own choices, too.  Not the choices that are best for you, but the ones that are best for
her
." 

He shifted his stance, remaining silent, watching her with hawk-like eyes.  Her words didn't seem to have any effect. 

She took a breath and tried again.  "Listen, I know you love Cassie and want what's best for her.  Despite our problems, I know you do."  Even if his version of love was slightly distorted.  "Can't you see that giving her the gift of making her own choices
is
what's best for her?  Out of everything that we can give her, this is the one thing that will truly make her happy."

"Quite frankly, Elena, I don't see that.  I realize you don't come from a sterling background and may not be able to recognize the full effect her education will have on her life, but I do.  What use is an art degree?"

She ignored the personal barb.  She wasn't going to allow him to make her feel less than her worth.  "Have you ever looked at Cassie's work?  Taken the time to really appreciate it?"  He shrugged, and she knew he hadn't.  "It's brilliant.  She's been blessed with a rare gift.  It would be a tragedy if she wasted it and spent the rest of her life in a boardroom."

"She'll never make money at it."

"Be serious, Richard.  If she never made a dime, she'd still have more money than she'd ever need."

That stroked his ego, and he puffed out his chest.  "Well, that part is certainly true." 

Some things never changed.  "Before you decide to cut her off, take a good look at her work.  I think you'll be proud.  Listen to her tell you about what she does and how she does it.  Then decide."

He shook his head.  "Your arguments are pointless.  I'll look at her work to appease her, but eventually, she'll need to come around to my way of thinking.  It would help if you'd stop putting frivolous ideas in her head."  He jutted out his chin, glancing around her shop.  "And please don't ask her to work here again.  The last thing I need is her thinking she'd enjoy this type of blue collar work.  Honestly, I can't believe you haven't come crawling back to me, begging me to save you from your own horrendous choices."

She could almost hear the ping of the button he'd pushed.  She wished she could ignore the provocation, knowing that it was his way of saving face, but she'd had enough of his pompous attitude.  "I'm sorry my choices don't live up to your standards, but that's your problem.  Not mine.  I'm proud of what I've accomplished here, and I will
always
tell Cassie to follow her dreams."  Seriously, how could she ever have believed herself to be in love with him?  Here, she'd tried to keep things civil, but there was no disguising an insolent jerk.

"You working here is a disgrace, Elena.  To all of us."

"Us?  There is no us."  When would he learn that?

"I paid you a very generous settlement."

Her emotions exploded.  "That doesn't give you the right to tell me what to do."  Her blood pressure continued to rise.  "I make my
own
decisions."  She wanted to jab her finger into his chest.

"We both know the funds I gave you bought this business.  You'd be nothing without me."

She hated that she'd had to take his money.  She'd wanted nothing more than to walk away, but her lawyer had convinced her that she owed it to herself and daughter to ask for a settlement, that Elena's commitment all those years earned her the right to have enough to take care of herself.  Even at that, she'd only asked for enough to get her started in her new life.  She wanted nothing from him.  "I deserved every cent of it, after all the years I spent with you." 

He snorted.  "When will you see reason?  I don't understand why you'd
want
to lower yourself to such a level when it's not necessary."  He brushed the sleeve of his coat as though being in her shop had somehow dirtied him.  "You know you need me.  Don't make me prove that.  If it weren't for my connections and my money, this shop never would have made it off the ground.  You might want to remember, too, Karl and I were friends in college.  One call to his bank, and it could still all come tumbling down."  A malicious glint sparked in his eyes.  "Perhaps you should consider that the next time Cassie seeks your counsel on school matters."

A tremble rocked through her.  "Are you threatening me?"  She would never back down to him again, but she couldn't pretend he didn't have the power to hurt her business.  She'd thought Karl was her friend, too, but if he had to chose, who knew?

He huffed a laugh and looked away.  "Oh, Elena.  If you could just see the error of your ways."

"I think you should leave."  She nodded toward the front of the store. 

He shrugged.  "Whatever you wish.  Enjoy your squalor, for now.  Eventually, you'll come around."  He turned and left the workroom.  She followed and watched as he walked out the front door, a rush of cool morning air replacing his unwelcome presence.

Her fingers shook as she locked the door behind him.  Bastard.  How dare he threaten her like that?

She took a quick stock of the friends and associations she'd made since her divorce.  She ran a good business with a solid reputation.  That was solely
her
hard work.  Nothing from him.  Could she withstand a personal attack from Richard?  She'd like to think so, but knowing that he could hurt her that way, left her feeling vulnerable.

One thing she did know—she needed to work harder than ever to grow her business, to earn more money, so she could get her damn loan paid off.  That would ease her financial worries a thousand-fold.

And squalor?  She looked about her shop with its impish decorations and country cottage charm.  The fragrant smell alone bespoke peace and loveliness.  It was her sanctuary.  Besides her home, she couldn't imagine a more beautiful place in the world.

Blue collar or not, it far surpassed the hell she'd lived in while married to him.

Two days had passed, and Elena's nerves still hadn't settled from Richard's verbal attack.  She sat at a small table toward the back of her floral shop, determined to bury her worries.  Opposite her, an excited bride watched her mother write a check that would cover the deposit portion for flowers for her upcoming wedding.  Elena filled out the dollar amount of the deposit on their order form just as the roar of a huge machine echoed through her shop.  A loud, resounding boom followed a few seconds later, shaking the shop's windows and the many glass vases she had sitting on shelves.