by Stark, Cindy
However, work wasn't what had drained her. If anything, it had been her savior during the past week. She absolutely loved spending each day surrounded by the fragrance and beauty of her flowers.
It was Joe.
All day long, every day since she'd come home, thoughts of Joe had haunted her. Any time she came across a red flower, she thought of Joe. A vase? A wineglass? Everything reminded her of him. She'd looked at his note so many times his phone number had been etched into her brain. She knew it was because their time together had been romanticized by their exotic surroundings and carefree moments, but it needed to stop. Battling memories of him flat out exhausted her.
She skipped dinner and headed straight for her antique tub. After soaking in a long, hot bath, Elena shrugged into her new favorite nightshirt. The soft cotton had been laundered, so it no longer carried Joe's scent, but slipping it around her made her feel better for the moment.
Wearing his shirt obviously only made matters worse, but she couldn't fight it any longer tonight. She needed the comfort of his shirt snuggled next to her bare skin. This way, he didn't seem quite so far away. It was stupid, she knew, to keep the memento. It, too, would haunt her every time she wore it. She also knew time eventually had to work its magic, and he wouldn't have such a hold over her. Then she could let it go.
She climbed into bed, wondering if Joe ever thought about her, or if he'd gotten over her like she promised he would and had moved on to the next sexy vacationer.
* * *
Joe had to stop it. He had to stop thinking about her. He had to quit looking for Elena in the face of every beautiful blonde he came across.
He glanced in the rearview mirror, tugging on his tie. He looked pretty good. Tanned, new haircut, pretty damned healthy if no one noticed the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. It had been four weeks. Why couldn't he get the woman out of his head?
From his car, he studied the two-story structure located in Santa Cruz, not half a mile from the Pacific Ocean. The newer brick building was the current home of Stephens Shipping, Incorporated. He blew out a breath. No better time to announce his return than the present.
Inside the corporate office, an unfamiliar receptionist greeted him. "May I help you?"
Hell, he hadn't been gone that long, had he? "Nope." He smiled at the girl's questioning look. "Joe Stephens, owner and all that."
The young brunette stood up, flustered. "Mr. Stephens, I apologize. I didn't—"
"Of course, you didn't. I've been away, but I'm back now, so you'll be seeing a lot more of me."
"I'd love to." The receptionist blushed. "I mean that's wonderful. I'm looking forward to it." She blushed harder.
"And you are?"
"Charlotte Hadley." She stuck out her hand.
He shook it and then turned away. "Have a good morning, Ms. Hadley," he called over his shoulder as he headed for his sister's office.
Inside, he found Renee talking on the phone. It seemed the receptionist wasn't the only change around there. His sister had cut her long, dark hair into a short pixie cut and had painted her office. The subdued burnt-orange walls warmed the room while dark blue furniture provided a contrast. His sister had never been afraid of color.
She widened her brown eyes when she spied him, and she smiled and waved for him to approach. "Look, Daniel, I've got to go. My brother just walked in, and I haven't seen him in almost three months. Okay. Call you later."
Her lips broke into a wide grin as she hung up the phone. "God, it's good to see you. Mom is going to be so mad. She just left yesterday for a two-week cruise with Connie." She met him halfway around the desk, and he crushed her with a big bear hug.
"Our mother? She never goes anywhere."
"She does now. I think you inspired her. She's even talking about going to Italy." Renee pulled back and studied his face. "You look good, except for the circles under your eyes."
"Late night flight," he lied. He took a seat in one of the dark blue leather chairs in front of her desk while she walked around and sat in her seat. "You look good, too. I like the hair cut." She was pretty no matter what. As teenagers, he'd never lacked for friends because of all the guys clamoring to get closer to his sister. "It sounds like things have gone well since I've left."
"Very well." She smiled and lifted her chin. "Profits are up five percent."
He furrowed his brows. "Too well, it seems. You haven't missed me at all."
"Of course we have. Stephens Shipping hasn't been the same without you."
"A five percent profit increase? I don't know. That makes me look bad."
She grinned. "Well, I'm not trying to brag, but you know how long I've itched to get my hands on this company. What can I say?" She shrugged. "I love it."
He nodded. "More than me, that's for sure." It was the truth. From the moment Renee had grasped the concept of the family business, she'd always talked about getting her turn to run Stephens Shipping. Not him. He'd been happiest guiding fishing tours and diving in the Pacific. Something in him smiled when he thought of teaching others what he loved to do.
"Just so you know, I'm in no hurry to resume my place at the head of the company quite yet. If you'd like, maybe we can co-pilot for a while." Until he got back into the swing of things. Until he got used to the noose being back around his neck. He tugged at his tie again.
"Back for five minutes, and you're already looking for a way out, huh?" She knew him too well.
"Nah. I just figured I'd break myself in easy."
"Well, whatever you decide to do, I'm glad my big brother's home."
* * *
Joe sat with his feet resting on his credenza, staring out the window. He'd been back for two days now, and he still couldn't get excited about the stack of financial reports sitting on his desk.
He leaned to the left. If he positioned himself perfectly, he could get a decent view of the Pacific Ocean between the buildings. The vivid blue waters taunted him, and he allowed his thoughts of starting a diving business to surface again. He could guide fishing and diving tours like he had in Cabo, and operate a school, if he wanted. There were always plenty of people looking to take up those sports.
Renee wouldn't be heartbroken if he asked her to commandeer the business…but his father would have expected him to carry on with Stephens Shipping, and God knew his mother wouldn't let him slip away quietly in the night. She believed Renee should be home with her children, even though they were all teenagers, and she was fiercely adamant about having a man at the helm of the business. He sighed, frustrated with his future. How had he ever imagined he could be happy with this life?
A knock sounded behind him, and he turned to find Renee watching him with raised brows. She strode in and closed the door. "You really should do something about your office." She pointed to the worn brown leather furniture in the room. "This is the same stuff Dad used in his office, and how much more boring can you get than white walls?"
Joe shrugged. "It works for me."
"I'd say that ocean out there works better for you." She nodded toward his window.
"Yeah." He tried to hide his grin. "It probably does, but this is where I need to be."
"Why?"
Damn, his sister could be blunt when she wanted to. He shrugged again. "Because Mom wants me here. Dad would have wanted it, too. It's the family business. I should take care of my responsibilities."
"The responsibilities of the business are being handled just fine by me." She walked over and hitched a leg on his side of the desk. "For the last twenty years, you have grown the company and made it into one of the most profitable shipping enterprises in California. The hard part is done. All it needs now is some guidance and direction, and I'm managing it just fine. Better than fine, for that matter.
"My boys are older and have their own lives, and I need something to keep me occupied. You know James is always on the go, traversing the state, helping people and supporting whichever project will help him get re-elected." She smil
ed. "I need this job to keep me sane."
"Yeah, you love it." He swiveled in his chair and followed her gaze out the window. He really didn't know what he wanted from life, except to be near the ocean and Elena. Unfortunately, she'd made it clear she wasn't interested in anything beyond Cabo. Even though, damn it, he knew she felt something, too.
"Don't get me wrong, Joe. I’m not trying to take this from you, but you and I both know you're not happy here. With me at the helm, you're free to pursue what you want. I know you think our parents want you here. What I want, and what Dad would have wanted, was for you to be happy. Mom wants that, too. She's just a little old-fashioned with her way of thinking." She nudged his shoulder. "But she's coming along. She left me alone here, didn't she?"
He chuckled. Perhaps his mother could change after all.
"Besides," Renee continued. "I know you'd rather be out there with the surf and the sun." She looked down at him. "Where's your boat?"
"At the marina. Jacob saved my spot for me."
"I thought you said you flew home."
Busted. "Boat, plane, what's the difference?"
She turned fully to him now. "There's a big difference." She scrutinized his face. "It's not just coming back to work, is it? I mean, you're back almost a month earlier than you expected to be. Things not go okay in Cabo? A month ago, you sounded like you were having the time of your life. What happened?"
Elena happened. "I got bored." He focused on the point where the bright blue sky disintegrated into the ocean.
"Bored? In Cabo?" She let out a disbelieving sigh. "With all the hot senoritas, cold beer and blue seas?" She walked in front of him, blocking his view. "I don't buy it, big brother."
"So?" He folded his arms and stared up at her. He could still get her in a headlock if he wanted to.
She threw her hands up. "Geez, you men are all the same. Do I have to use a crowbar to pry the words out of you?"
Oh, hell. He might as well tell her. He'd never get any peace until he did. "I met someone."
Her expression did a complete one-eighty. "You did? As in a woman?"
"What the hell do you think I mean? I'm not gay."
She looked around the room as though she were expecting someone to jump out and yell just kidding. Then she trapped him with her overwhelming smile. "Joe, this is wonderful news." She leaned down and hugged him. "I always knew the right woman would come along."
Renee's Mr. Right had showed up seventeen years ago, and they'd proceeded to produce three suitable sons capable of running the business after he and Renee retired. How had he gone so wrong with his Ms. Right?
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."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
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.
