Daniel smoothed his hands on his jeans. “Let’s get down to the details. If Milly maintains her D average, will she lose her scholarship?”
Kelly flushed with a growing anger. D average? Daniel had seen Milly’s report and not told her about it?
Milly stood up with a huff and stormed from the classroom, thumbing in her earbuds as she stomped into the corridor.
Mrs. Kowalick’s gaze followed Milly from the classroom. “Yes, she will. I think you know she needs to maintain a B average.”
Daniel stood, offering his hand. “I’ll fix it. Thanks for your time.” He hustled out of the room.
Kelly sat reeling, punch-drunk at the last sixty seconds. She offered a weak smile as Mrs. Kowalick tapped her pencil in time with the ticking of the clock. She smiled back at Kelly, a closed smile that didn’t include her eyes. “I will be keeping a close eye on Milly’s grades over the next few weeks. I strongly suggest you have a word with her at home.”
Nothing was worse than a lecture.
* * *
Kelly inspected the blooming red rose—the centerpiece of her platter of canapés—which fifteen minutes earlier had been a plain, simple tomato. She wished she could cut the unspoken tension with as deft a hand as she used to cater.
Daniel pushed past her and beelined for the fridge. Head down in focus, or something more than that? In the twenty-four hours since the meeting at school, Milly had resumed her silence. Daniel had closed down.
Kelly bit her lip. “Daniel?”
“Fourteen . . . fifteen . . . and three bottles of . . .” He looked over the open fridge door. “Yes?”
The tears welled. “Why didn’t you tell me about her report card?”
Daniel closed the fridge and stroked his chin. “I presumed you’d seen it.”
Kelly choked back an angry sob. “The first I knew about it was when you mentioned it to Milly’s teacher. It was humiliating.”
“I’m sorry, Kel. I thought you knew. I saw it just before we went to the school.”
“Why would Milly just show you?”
Milly stood at the foot of the stairs, her phone held in front of her, the electronic shutter clicking away. Kelly forced a smile.
Daniel leaned back on the fridge. “Good timing, Mill. I’ve got a question for you. Why would you hide your report card?”
Two versions of her husband faced off right in front of Kelly. “I’ve got a question for you first, Dad. Since when do you go snooping through my locker at school?”
“I don’t even know where your locker is.”
“That’s where I put my report card.”
Daniel’s eyes flicked around the room, a sure sign his steel-trap mind was twitching its razor-sharp teeth.
Milly’s brow furrowed. “So how did you get into my locker?”
Daniel’s voice rose. “I saw the photo you took with Gramps’s camera, and your report card was sitting right on this kitchen counter.”
Milly waved her phone. “Why would I use Gramps’s camera when I’ve got this?”
Kelly watched back and forth at this tennis match of an exchange, lost as to where this conversation had come from—or was going. A shocked indignation showed on her daughter’s face. Milly wasn’t lying.
“And not only are you snooping but you’re accusing me of stuff I haven’t done!” She punched her earbuds back in and stormed up the stairs.
Kelly turned to Daniel. They needed to talk about this as a family. Calmly, not like this. “What is this about Gramps’s camera?”
“I’m sorry. I accused you of using it, but it appears Milly did, and she took a photo of her report card. I thought it was her way of telling us about it.”
“Why would she use Gramps’s camera?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because she knew I would see the photos. She took a few around the house, empty rooms and”—Daniel’s gaze drifted to his shuffling feet—“a few other things.”
“Why would she take photos of our house? And what other things?”
Daniel’s voice slowed, as if he were measuring his words. “My cuff links from work.” He stopped and then lifted his gaze to her. “And your suitcase next to the front door.”
“My suitcase? Why?”
“I don’t know. And some kind of bank statement. From a bank I’d never heard of until I found that photo in Gramps’s recliner. Beyond Bank.”
Kelly felt the blood drain from her face.
Sixteen
Daniel filled Anna’s glass as the breeze swept across the deck. “Thanks so much for suggesting this celebration. I needed it more than I realized.”
“Losing Gramps was difficult for you, and you’ve worked so hard since Howard passed away. You deserve it.” As Anna took a sip, the breeze flicked the burgundy highlights across her face, the lowering sun kissing them with a deep-red glow.
Raucous laughter from his kitchen slipped under the glass doors and spilled outside. Comfortable silence descended on them, shepherded by the gentle breeze coming off the ocean. It felt like . . . a relief. Daniel batted away the feeling, his mind joining dots it didn’t need to.
“Where’s your better half?” he asked.
Anna nodded toward the kitchen. “In there, probably regaling your staff on the benefits of cloud computing. Kelly looks like she’s having fun.”
Through the doors, Kelly glided from group to group, platters of her afternoon’s creation in each hand. “She’s happy.”
Daniel looked back from the kitchen and into Anna’s glare, one eyebrow locked and loaded.
“Is she, Daniel? Really?”
“We have our problems like anyone, but Kelly still thinks I’m cheating on her. I don’t know how to convince her I have done nothing wrong.”
“Perhaps you need to look into why she doesn’t believe you.”
“Who knows? She’s so defensive whenever we talk that it’s almost like she doesn’t want to be convinced. Anyway, my more pressing problem at the moment is Milly and her failing at school.”
“How did the meeting with her teacher go?”
“Not well. It’s frustrating to have answers my daughter won’t let me give her. Honestly, it’s much easier when the problems sitting in front of you belong to other families.”
Anna laughed, her highlights now fiery, glowing embers in the setting sun. “I think that’s what makes it harder for people like us to have the knowledge we do.”
The gentle breeze ushered another wedge of comfortable silence onto the deck. The music roared as the glass doors to the deck flew open and Kelly sailed through, brandishing napkins and a fresh platter loaded with canapés, an intricate tomato rose at its center. A beaming smile gave way to tight lips, her eyes narrow and taut, a contrast to her free-flowing gray dress.
Anna took a napkin. “You’ve done a wonderful job with the food, Kelly. And you look gorgeous.”
Kelly gave a slight bow. “Thanks. This dress might be old, but it still fits pretty well. Daniel said I’ve got you to thank for suggesting this dinner.” She offered her the platter, rows of charred eggplant and salami and radish creations waiting for admiration as much as tasting. “So what are you two talking about out here?”
Daniel’s eyes rolled skyward. See?
The edges of Kelly’s mouth crinkled into a downward turn at the lack of an instant response, but then Peter barged onto the deck and into the gap where the conversation should have been. “So this is where the party is! Daniel, could I have a look at that camera now?”
“Sure, I think Milly might have it.”
“Where is she?”
Daniel scanned the kitchen for signs of his daughter. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her all afternoon . . .”
His sentence ran out of puff when he realized he was making the same mistake he’d made at her birthday party. “I’ll find her.”
Daniel charged into the house, Peter in tow, leaving Anna and Kelly with a platter and silence between them. He walked into the living room and a wall of so
aring operatic strings and plaintive saxophone. No sign of Milly.
He felt a tug at his arm. Jade swayed as she clutched a glass of wine, not her first, and she excused herself from a discussion with Cameron. “You’ve got a wonderful home, Daniel. You deserve to live in a million-dollar house like this.”
Behind Daniel’s embarrassed smile, the buzz of anxiety tickled through him as Jade unknowingly pried open the lid on his financial situation.
Peter leaned into the conversation with a wink. “You’re right about the million-dollar bit!”
Jade laughed. “Well, you deserve it, and I’m grateful for your insight.”
Daniel smiled. “How is your father?”
“Touch and go. But your words last week were perfectly timed. I still don’t know how you noticed.”
Someone had noticed before him. The someone who took Jade’s photo. “It’s what we do at Crossroads, notice when people are struggling and do something about it. Didn’t anyone else see you upset?”
Peter’s face remained stony blank.
Jade furrowed her brow. “No.”
Someone must have. “Are you sure?”
Jade drained her glass. “No. Just you.”
Daniel set his jaw. “I hope your father is feeling better soon. Enjoy the evening.”
He headed toward his study as Peter’s question arrived over his shoulder. “I only knew about it when she told me. How did you know?”
Daniel stuck his head into his study. There was no sign of Milly, but Gramps’s camera sat on his desk, and he handed it to Peter. “Would you mind taking photos of the evening?”
“Sure, happy to.” He wandered back toward the noise.
Daniel moved to the kitchen. Someone had noticed Jade but not done something about it. Then a polite knock at the front door cut through his thickening thoughts and the soaring music.
When Daniel opened the door, his breath jammed in his throat. Monique stood in the half-light, a black dress hugging every curve down to her calves, a sparkle on her neck, her hair up save for two tendrils that fell on either side of thick lashes and wide eyes. A heady waft of Chanel threatened to derail his marriage on the spot. Monique’s smile eased into his discomfort.
He scrambled to regain a sense of control and stepped back to breathe distance into their interaction. “Monique, welcome! May I get you a drink?” He waited for the inevitable. It didn’t take long.
Daniel felt Kelly arrive behind him five seconds before he heard her voice. “Hello, and welcome to our family home.” She thrust a fresh platter between them. “Something to eat?”
Kelly’s voice hardened as she turned to Daniel. “A few people need drinks. I suggest you fill them.” She turned back to Monique. “Please come in and enjoy the evening.”
Daniel was pleased for the escape route—and the chance to avoid giving Kelly ammunition she didn’t need.
Peter raced up to him, brandishing the camera. “This is wonderful. It has a unique quality to it when you look through the viewfinder.”
“Would you use the word clarity?”
Peter waved a finger. “Yes! I’ve never seen a camera like it, and like I said, I’ve had some Olympus cameras over the years.”
Daniel felt fingers on his arm, pulling him toward the deck. Monique, holding a champagne flute.
“Daniel, can we talk?” Her glass was empty. Already.
Daniel planted his feet. “Sure.”
Monique gestured to the deck. “Alone?”
A faint alarm sounded in his head, and his testosterone fought to hit snooze on it. “Can’t we talk here?”
Monique’s head tilted, baited lashes batting. “Please? For just a moment?”
A moment. He could give one of his own staff members a moment. Monique’s curves sashayed across the deck toward the railing. Daniel forced his eyes to stay on the back of her head. She spun to face him, the playful breeze bouncing her curls on flushed cheeks. “I just want to thank you for the opportunity you’ve given me to work at Crossroads.”
That had to be said on the deck, alone? The alarm bell rang louder. It was time to put an end to this. Here. Maybe that would be enough for Kelly. “It’s great to have you on the team.” Daniel moved to the door.
“Daniel?”
His rational side screamed at him to head back inside, but the buzz of his hormones pulled rank. “Yes?”
“We make a great team. Two couples said today we’ve saved their marriage.”
His self-control was losing the battle as the sun lowered behind Monique, the breeze bouncing those tendrils. His testosterone pumped his heart harder and threw his brain out of the ring, but then his professionalism tagged in and reminded him of the red flag flickering in the same breeze that rustled Monique’s hair. But then over the top, his indignation kicked in. This was his house.
Monique leaned back on the railing and crossed her ankles, a thin line of gold catching his eye. “By the way, I’ve got news about the friend I told you about. She’s decided that if she’s found the right man for her, she’ll do something about it.”
Daniel threw a glance over his shoulder at the happy team enjoying his happy home. Indignation or not, there was a price to pay, and it was too high. He reached deep into his well of self-control to save his future from the mire.
“This friend of yours should talk to someone if she needs some formal advice. I have to get back to my guests.”
Monique smiled. Those ruby-red lips. Her eyes flicked over Daniel’s shoulder, and his eyes followed hers. Kelly stood openmouthed, half-empty platter in hand.
“Daniel, can I get your help inside at your own function, please?” A staccato monotone, flint in her voice, quavering with seething anger.
“Yes. We were just finishing up.” His mind arranged the cue cards it would need for tomorrow’s inevitable defense.
Monique’s voice floated over his shoulder. “Daniel is just enjoying himself . . . at his own function.”
Kelly marched past Daniel, first thrusting the platter into his chest. She stood in front of Monique, hands on hips, a living, breathing example of what the psychology textbooks referred to as an attack position. He had to step in.
“Kelly, nothing was—”
Kelly breathed ragged and hard. “Listen here. You think you have something Daniel wants, but you will not break up my home or my marriage.”
Monique sagged for a moment but then stood tall in defiance. “That’s Daniel’s decision, isn’t it?” Her champagne glass gripped in trembling fingers, she shouldered past Kelly.
Daniel dropped his head. “When we don’t have a houseful of guests, I will tell you what did—and did not—happen. We need to talk about this.”
Kelly looked out at the low sun, a golden thumbprint in a reddening sky. “We need to talk about a lot of things. I want us to see someone. Together.”
“Well, for the sake of our guests, can we just put it to one side and talk about it tomorrow?”
A timer beeped in the kitchen—a siren call to a caterer—and Kelly stormed back into the house.
Daniel stewed in frustrating bitterness. He had handled Monique well, but the same phrase screamed at him on a loop from deep within. I have done nothing wrong. But Kelly would never buy it.
At the far end of the deck, something moved behind the barrel grill. Milly swung her feet while perched on the railing. She had seen everything.
“Milly, would you get down from there, please?”
Her defiant legs swung harder. “If you can’t get along, can’t you at least pretend?”
Daniel closed his eyes and breathed hard through his nose. “I think it’s good if the people at work see a couple working through their issues.”
Milly jumped down and stood tall as she drilled a glare into her father. “I was talking about for me.”
* * *
The brilliant reds and oranges of the sunset bathed Daniel in a warm glow as they rebounded from the full-length glass doors. He wished he could copy and pa
ste this moment in time—a happy and successful team, laughter filling his dream home.
Peter pushed the remnants of his black forest cake into the middle of the large redwood table. “Wonderful cake, Kelly. You were right—the second piece was better.”
Peter’s long-suffering wife elbowed him as he guffawed at his own joke.
Kelly bowed as a wave of compliments swept across the table. Black crumbs and dots of cream trailed from the remains of her creation in the table’s center to the happy, now satisfied, team from Crossroads Counseling.
As Daniel surveyed the tableau of satisfaction and happy chatter, a dark shadow passed over him. The dark days of Howard’s passing. The quick plunge into bad health and the shock of his diagnosis. The mounting pressure from the bank to keep the practice open. Cleaning out Howard’s office inside a month. Saving a practice and his future.
He stood as Peter clinked his glass with a chocolate-smeared spoon and a hush fell over the group.
“I want to say thank you to the team not just from me but on behalf of all the couples who have come through our doors.”
There was a smattering of applause. Daniel looked across the remnants of the cake at Anna and smiled.
“You know, one thing is common to everyone who comes to Crossroads Counseling, and it’s not that they want to meet Peter Gardner—”
Peter raised his hands in mock protest as laughter broke out around the table.
“—it’s that they know we can help.”
Kelly looked up at him, fierce pride in her eyes. The truce was holding.
“We have a great team here, almost family.” Monique beamed at him, and Daniel glanced away into the reflected sunset. “After Howard died, I thought the practice wouldn’t survive. In the last months of his life, Howard spent more time hunched over his computer than counseling, and the business was looking dire.”
He saw tears forming in Anna’s eyes as she held her husband’s hand.
“We have just helped our thousandth couple. Howard set us on our path, and he gave us a gift to share with everyone. He was more than a mentor; he was the catalyst to everything we do. He established Crossroads Counseling and then employed me—the second great thing he did.”
The Camera Never Lies Page 8
