Harper chuckled. “Customers can be annoying that way. Do you like the navigation as it is or do you want to change that, as well?” She was happy to update content but didn’t have the skills to deal with the technical end of a professional website.
“Navigation?” Vera asked, sounding wary.
“Do you like where the links are and what they do when people click on them?”
“Oh, yes, that’s totally fine and all works. It’s what’s on the pages I don’t like. Plus, we’re thinking we want to offer a coupon for Tuesday. That’s our slowest day and I have no idea why. It’s Tuesday—a great day for scones and tea.”
“I agree completely. Let me get back to my office and look over the website, then put together a proposal on what I’d suggest. The basic information won’t have to change—you still serve delicious food and tea—but with a few easy updates, we can probably make things look fresh and new.”
“I’d like that a lot. We were so happy with that flyer you did for us, and the design for the holiday gift cards.”
“I’m glad. I’ll get you a proposal by tomorrow afternoon, say by three, so I can call after the lunch rush?”
“Perfect. You’re a lifesaver, Harper. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Vera.”
Harper sent herself a reminder, then returned the second call to a woman named Phyllis.
“This is going to sound really strange, but my sister uses the landscaping company you did the billing for. The one where everything got messed up?”
Harper held in a groan. Why did mistakes always have a half-life? “That would be me.”
“She was so impressed with how you handled yourself. She’s friends with the owner and he told her the whole story—how you corrected everything and did a month’s billing for free. It’s a work ethic I can respect. I own a pool cleaning business. We have customers all over the South Bay area and the billing takes forever. Normally I do it, but I’m getting married and honestly, I want to cut back on my hours for the next few months. I don’t want to hire someone just for the billing so my sister suggested I give you a try.”
“I’d be happy to help you out,” Harper said, more than a little surprised by the odd referral. Maybe Morgan screwing up had a bright side. “Let me call you when I’m back in the office and I have my schedule in front of me. I’d like to set up a time to come by and look at your program and discuss what you need more fully.”
“Sounds great. I’ll wait to hear from you.”
Two jobs in a single morning, Harper thought happily as she drove home. She ran into the house and yelled for Dean.
“We have more clients!” she announced happily. “Let’s Do Tea wants a website spruce and a pool service business wants us to do the billing.”
Dean walked into the living room, then put his hands on his hips. “I knew it,” he said as he circled her. “I knew it in my gut. Lance told me I was imagining things, but I’m not wrong, am I?”
Harper’s elation shifted into caution. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said primly, even though she could make a decent guess.
“Oh, you know. There’s a man.” He pointed at her. “Highlights and a brow wax. You’ve been extra happy. Getting laid happy. Who are you seeing and why haven’t I met—” Dean’s eyes widened. “Shut the F up. You’re sleeping with Lucas.”
“What? That’s crazy. I’m too old for him. You’ve seen his girlfriends. I could be their mother.”
“Uh-huh, while that all sounded convincing, you didn’t deny it.” Dean grinned. “He’s very handsome and I like his style. I think you make a cute couple.”
“No, we’re not a couple. We’re not.” Harper wished she sounded a little more certain and a lot less whiny.
Dean patted her arm. “I get it. You’re keeping things quiet because of Becca. Don’t worry. I won’t say a word.” He linked arms with her and led her back to their office. “Now tell me all about the new clients and how much pretty money they’re going to be paying us! And after you’re done with that, I have a proposal.”
“Which is?”
Dean had rearranged the big workspace so that their desks were pushed up against each other in the center of the room. That left the wall space available for cabinets, files and a long worktable for special projects. A big dry erase calendar showed what was due when and there was another progress list for big jobs that had to be done in stages.
Dean gestured. “We’re going to need to hire someone to help with all we have going on.” He held up a hand. “Before you tell me that getting another person in here freaks you out and that you’re not sure how much of this work is permanent and you’d hate to find someone and train them, only to fire them in three months, I have a solution.”
“We really do share a mind. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“Scary, huh?” He grinned. “Here’s my suggestion.” He paused for a second. “Becca.”
“My daughter?”
“She’s smart, she’s responsible and those videos she did for the city were great. Summer’s coming up and she’s going to want to earn some money. Working here is the perfect solution, especially because she can work for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’ll be my employee, not yours. You and I will figure out what we need her to do and I’ll pass on the assignments.” He leaned back in his chair. “Trust me, I know all about mother-daughter dynamics. She’s a great kid and you’re tight and all, but you’re her mother, not her boss. I think things will go more smoothly if I’m the one she reports to. The best part is, come September, she’s back in school. At that point you and I can assess where we are. We’ll have an idea of which clients are steady and which are one-offs. At that point, we can make a more informed hiring decision.”
Once again Harper knew she had reason to be incredibly grateful to her sister for suggesting Dean. Everything he said made sense—especially the part about Becca working for him.
“I couldn’t love you more right now,” she said.
“I know.” Dean sighed. “It’s a curse, but one I live with. I’ll talk to Becca when she gets home from school. Now tell me about our new clients.”
“One of them is Let’s Do Tea.”
Dean groaned. “Do not get paid in scones. I would eat them all and explode.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to risk that for anything.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
BECCA JOGGED ALONG the boardwalk, Jazz at her side. She was tired and her back hurt from her being hunched over her computer, but the report was done. She’d stayed up late three nights, had done more research than she ever had before and had rewritten two sections twice, which should have seriously pissed her off. Instead, she felt a weird sense of accomplishment. As if she’d done something really important.
She wanted to tell herself it was just a dumb report to get a decent grade so that Lucas would help her get the last of her driving hours, but something told her that wasn’t really the case. She’d done a great job. She’d worked hard and she was proud of herself. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to.
Maybe this was what Lucas had been talking about all along—how she had to step up and do the right thing, even if it was hard or boring or whatever. She still missed her friends, still wanted her mom to pay more attention to her, but other than that, she had to admit, she was pretty happy. Ashton was amazing and she loved spending time with him. He always listened and he totally got her. As for the sex thing, it was possible he’d been right. She liked what they were doing.
Beside her, Jazz kept up easily. They left the boardwalk and headed back toward the residential area. Becca slowed to a walk and Jazz did the same.
“We are busy, aren’t we?” she said aloud. Jazz glanced at her, as if agreeing. “You’re such a smart dog. We should do som
ething with that.”
They turned at the corner and Becca was surprised to find that she’d automatically walked toward Jordan’s. She stood in front of the familiar two-story house for nearly a minute before marching up to the front door and ringing the bell. Jordan answered, then frowned.
“What do you want?”
“You were wrong,” Becca told her. “I was your friend and I told you the truth because I care about you. I was protecting you from something bad and you punished me for that. Our friendship had value and you threw it away for a stupid guy. One day you’re going to regret that.”
She turned on her heel and walked away. Jazz kept pace. When they reached the corner, Becca began to run again.
Back home, she gave Jazz fresh water, then began researching online. The steps to getting Jazz certified as a therapy dog were straightforward. She had to pass the AKC Canine Good Citizen test and pass a Therapy Dog Temperament test. Becca found a local volunteer organization in Santa Monica that offered both kinds of tests.
“I’m pretty sure you’re going to be able to pass easily,” Becca told her dog. “Oh, look. I have to take a one-day class to be your handler.” She grinned. “Wouldn’t you know it? I’ll have to go to classes more than you. Why am I not surprised?”
She thought about the old people where her grandmother lived. It would be scary to go there, but they seemed to like Jazz and it would be something for her dog to look forward to.
Becca printed the application she had to fill out and noted the date of the next handler class before doing a search on dog agility. She watched a couple of videos on YouTube.
“You could so do that,” she murmured. “Want to see?”
Jazz didn’t raise her head.
“I get it. Dogs don’t watch videos.” She typed on her keyboard and found a local park class that taught basic agility. The registration fee made her swallow hard, but that was nothing when compared with what she found when she went looking for the equipment.
“Jazz, there’s only one way this is going to work. You’re going to have to get a job in television or as a model.”
* * *
Stacey sat in her car for a second. She had to rally so she could walk the last ten feet from the garage to the house. For some reason, she’d been exhausted for a couple of days. Maybe Joule was having her prebirth growth spurt and that was using up all of Stacey’s resources. Maybe it was her last-minute push to get as much work done as she could before she went into labor. Whatever the reason, all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for days. She was so tired she didn’t even want to bother with dinner.
But she would, she thought as she got out of the car and walked into the house. Because her baby needed the nutrition and it was what she should be doing. If only her ankles weren’t so swollen and her back didn’t hurt.
She found Ashton on the family room floor with the puppies crawling all over him and Bay watching from a safe distance. The mother dog looked as tired as she felt. Having a baby, or raising puppies, wasn’t easy.
“Hey,” Ashton said, barely glancing up from the game. “How was your day?”
“Good. And yours?”
“Fine. Somebody called in sick, so I got a couple of extra hours today. Woohoo.”
She smiled as she set down her backpack and pulled out her phone, then set it on the entry table. “Did you get your last assignment in?”
The question was more about conversation than concern—Ashton always did what he was supposed to. She only checked up on him because she wanted to make sure he knew she and Kit were interested in him and the articles she’d read said it was important. From her point of view, Ashton was more than capable of taking care of himself. She hoped that over the summer their relationship could evolve such that she was able to make him feel loved and welcome without having to ask stupid questions.
He didn’t bother looking up from the television. “I’ll do it later.”
She was halfway to the kitchen, but came to a stop. “It’s due this week. You said you’d have it done by now. You have to finish the class to graduate. If you don’t graduate, you won’t be able to go to MIT.”
He looked at her. “Relax, Stace. I’ve got it handled.”
She wanted to correct him. Having it handled would mean having it done. Unease joined exhaustion and she honestly didn’t know what to say to him.
Bay glanced at her as if following the conversation. Stacey wanted to ask the dog for advice, but that was ridiculous. Ashton was a mature teenager and he would do the right thing. She was sure of it.
Only the unease followed her into the kitchen as she began to prepare dinner. Kit had his support group that night. He’d made friends with several of the men and they met early to have dinner together. As always, he’d left her an easy dish that only had to be reheated.
She put the lasagna in the oven to warm and assembled a salad, then headed to her bedroom where she changed into maternity yoga pants and a T-shirt before walking back into the kitchen.
Bay joined her. After stroking the dog for several minutes, Stacey fixed her dinner and set her bowl in the corner of the eat-in kitchen. Bay began to eat.
One of her puppies trotted up and began sniffing at the food, then turned his attention to his mother’s ankle and began to chew. Bay stopped eating long enough to make a low sound in her throat. The puppy ignored her and continued to chomp on her foot. Bay growled louder. The puppy immediately stopped and began to back away.
“That’s telling him,” Stacey said as she scooped up the puppy. “Did you hear that? You should listen to your mom. She knows what she’s talking about.”
The puppy licked her nose.
Stacey was about to set him on the ground, when she got what had just happened. The puppy had done something wrong. Bay had issued a warning, then a sterner instruction, and the puppy had listened. She and Ashton were completely different, but still... It might work.
She walked into the family room and turned off the television.
Ashton frowned. “Why’d you do that?”
“You told me you would finish your last assignment several days ago. You said you had less than thirty minutes of work to do. Dinner’s going to take about that long. Please get it done now, before dinner.”
His mouth straightened and his eyes narrowed. He stood and took a step toward her in an obvious attempt to intimidate her with his size. Honestly, the males of every species were just so predictable.
“You’re telling me what to do? For real?”
She was tired, huge, swollen and only a couple of weeks away from giving birth. She didn’t have the patience for any of this.
“No, Ashton. For fake. You told me you would do the work and you didn’t, so I’m asking you to do it now. Unless you’re comfortable lying to me and if that’s the case, we have a bigger problem. Go finish the damn homework now so we can get on with our evening.”
He hesitated as if considering his options. She had no idea what she would do if he flat-out refused to do his homework. If only Kit were here—he would have handled the situation so much better.
“Fine,” Ashton grumbled. “I’ll go do it now. Then can I watch the game while we have dinner?”
“Sure.”
He started for his bedroom, then stopped and returned to her. After taking the puppy from her, he shocked her by pulling her into a hug.
“Sorry,” he said as he released her. “You’re right. I’ve been a butt. I really will go do it and finish out my class.”
“Thank you.”
Still carrying the puppy, he retreated to his room. She sank onto the sofa and covered her face with her hands. There was no way she was ever going to figure out parenting. It was hard and unpredictable and she just plain didn’t want to. But based on the size of her belly, it was too late for second thoughts.
* * *
&nb
sp; Harper moved her fingers as quickly as she could. The pattern was familiar and guilt fueled her speed.
“Mom, you’re really intense.”
“I know. I can’t help it. I’m a terrible sister. Lightning is going to strike me for sure.” She glanced at her daughter, then returned her attention to her knitting. “You might want to sit across the room in what would be considered the safety zone.”
“You know Aunt Stacey doesn’t care, right? She’s not into all that baby stuff.”
“Maybe not, but I have an obligation.”
One that had gotten lost in the past couple of months. Her sister was due in less than two weeks and Harper hadn’t made her anything. Yes, she’d been there for the shopping for the baby furniture and after Kit and Ashton had painted the room, she’d helped with the setup and she already had a week’s worth of casseroles in the freezer to take over after the birth, but still.
“I ignored decorating for Memorial Day and now it’s all going to hell.”
“How’s this?”
Becca held up a small cap done in a pale yellow. Harper had already crocheted most of the tiny flowers she would sew onto the cap. On the table were the completed pink tiger hat she’d made, along with a summer dress that would match Becca’s cap. She was going to do a quick blanket and maybe a bunny hat and hope that was enough to keep her from a fiery end.
“It’s perfect,” Harper told her daughter. “Thank you so much for helping out.”
“You’re welcome.”
Harper realized she couldn’t remember the last time she and her daughter had done something together other than eat. They didn’t hang out much anymore. Or ever. Some of it was because Becca was older now and had more going on in her life and some of it was Harper being busy trying to keep her business and the family afloat.
She thought about all the time she and Becca had spent together over the years. Craft projects and afternoons making cookies or quick breads. How sad those opportunities had drifted away.
Sisters Like Us Page 28
