“You’re mad.” Her mother-in-law’s angry spurts were few and far between for the last year now. The initial grief of losing her only son had taken its toll and the older woman worked long and hard to release the raging emotions to find peace for herself.
“Someone should be.” The short, clipped answer sliced through the air.
“About?” Annabelle coaxed, afraid of the answer.
“You,” she nearly spat, twirling around. “You silly goose! My son died. But his wife and son didn’t. You think I’m going to sit back and watch you snatch away Joey’s happiness?”
Holding up her hands as if to ward off any more verbal blows, Annabelle whispered, “Max could die, too.” She blinked to hold back the rush of moisture threatening to spill and stop the ache from spreading.
“So you stop living, is that it? Because you’re afraid? Because of a big maybe and big what-if? I’ve seen you, watched for years now as you try to hide away. Don’t be like me, Annabelle. I let it rob me of a life after my husband walked out and Joseph at a chance of having a real father.”
Words tumbled out of her. “Gigi, you don’t understand.” Hot tears ran down her cheeks. “I feel so…so…”
“Guilty?” Gigi came to her then and grasped her by the upper arms. “Don’t you think I see it? Honey, you love Max in a different way than Joseph. Maybe even more.”
Annabelle jerked her head back. “Is it that obvious?” She’d hidden from the truth to protect Joey and Gigi. And herself.
“I knew my son, the good and the bad. He was a daredevil at heart. Oh.” She rolled her eyes. “You don’t know how many times I fussed and fought with him to be more careful. Wear a helmet while you’re on your motorcycle. Don’t go to that part of town, especially at night. Stay away from this or that.”
She smiled through her tears. “He didn’t listen.”
“Not one bit. He came to me before he enlisted. I couldn’t stop him. But I did tell him to talk to you first.”
“He didn’t.” Sadness throbbed in her voice. “But I couldn’t have stopped him, either. I know that now.” Realization hit. He was headstrong and so immature, out to prove he could do something. Prove himself to the world and maybe his father who’d abandoned him.
“The thrill excited him. No mistake, he adored you and Joey. He couldn’t get a decent job to support you. I was willing to help. But no. Pride. He had a lot of that, too.”
Nodding, she agreed. “He wouldn’t listen.”
“Bullheaded. Just like his daddy.” She loosened her grip and let out a gusty sigh. “He had a mind of his own. Full speed ahead. Charge.”
Annabelle swiped her eyes. “You’re right.”
“I’m right about a lot of things.”
A smile tugged at Annabelle’s lips.
“Max isn’t like that.” She shook Annabelle gently. “No, don’t shut down on me. Listen, at least for Joey’s sake. Max is more mature than Joseph ever was. Level-headed. Thinks before he acts—well, from what I’ve seen. He wears his heart on his sleeve. What? You don’t think I saw the notes he sent you? I stripped your bed the other day.”
She cringed at the knowledge her mother-in-law had seen the private missives. To lighten things up, she said, “Sounds like you’re sweet on him.”
“For you? Yes. It’s brought life back into this house. To you. To all of us.”
“Are you trying to set me up?” How could her mother-in-law push her into another relationship? Feeling again hurt too much.
“Is it working?”
Annabelle sucked in a sharp breath.
“Love you lots.” Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she spoke the familiar, caring words. In a sense, Gigi was giving her permission to move on with her life.
“Not more than me.”
“Mom?” Joey came into the kitchen.
Turning to him, she wondered how much he’d heard. By the looks of his trembling lower lip, it was more than she ever cared for him to learn.
“I miss Max. Can you call him?” He undid the cape around his neck. “And give him this for me? He’s my real life hero. And the powers in this will protect him when he becomes a cop.”
Annabelle sucked in a sharp, soul-splitting breath.
Max had won over Gigi and Joey.
But more importantly, Max had healed her son.
***
She knocked on the glass door. Tap, tap, tap!
Bruno appeared almost instantly, unlocking it for her and pushing it open. “Right on time, as always, Miss Annabelle.”
“Brought you some of Gigi’s peanut butter cookies.” She dug in her oversized canvas work bag and handed over the plastic container as she walked in.
“I am one lucky guy tonight.” He smacked his lips.
“Almost done with the rooftop oasis.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice. Or was it clear down to her soul?
“Won’t be the same without you.” He bolted the door behind her and escorted her through the store.
I’ll miss you, too, my friend. Opening her heart up again had made her fears come true. Loving and losing people hurt. The man went out of his way every night to lead her through the darkened store, down halls, and up the stairs. He didn’t have to, but he made the extra effort.
He chatted the same as always, pointing out a new display or letting her in on some of the future plans for King’s. “Perfume bar. New Vintage Vibe store taking this spot here.”
She welcomed his steady presence at her side, thinking how much she’d miss this important ritual. In the back of her mind, she made a mental note to drop in on him every now and then, just to say hello. It gave her a something to look forward to now.
His usual grunt as he climbed the stairs brought a smile to her face.
“Elevator from King’s Cafe to the rooftop will be working next week. You won’t have to do this ever again.”
“Phew! ’Bout time, too.”
“Inspectors held up the work.” They’d made her job a whole lot harder, but she’d hired a crane company a second time to get the special materials to the roof.
Bruno flicked on the outside lights and popped open the door. “Here you go. Need anything—you know where to find me.”
She walked over the threshold and gulped at the sight. It was all coming together. The finish line was in sight. Soon, she’d say goodbye and move on to the next project. Her heart hitched.
The King’s magic had touched her deep inside. Or maybe it was just the people who ran it and worked here and loved it and each other.
It was difficult to stop herself from caring about them, too, to keep her guard up and not let them slip in and around that sheltered part of her. Max had been the one to start that painful, difficult process.
“Looking mighty good. Flowers arrived.” He nodded to the row after row of potted blooms she’d plant tonight.
Turning back to him, she swallowed hard. “Bruno, can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure. What you need?”
Digging in her work bag, she pulled out a small plastic bag with a piece of paper inside. “Can you deliver this note for me?” Her hand trembled. “In the morning. To Max.”
He lifted his hat and scratched his head. “Well, now. That’s interesting.”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
Chapter 22
“Yo, shake a leg, Danny,” Max said, opening the door to the SUV for his brother.
“Pretty soon, I won’t have to listen to you.” He grinned, sliding out of the front seat, clutching his big, bulky navy blue backpack.
“You’re wrong. You’ll have to listen even more.”
“Ha! Not in the mornings. Jay or Paige will bring me to work.”
“But will they stop and get you a flaky croissant?”
“Aw! I forgot about that.” His smile turned into a frown.
“Cheer up, buddy. I can bring you on my days off.”
“Now you’re talking.” He got to the door first. “Hey, Benny.”
&nb
sp; “Danny boy! How are you this morning? Max, good to see you. You sure you don’t want a job here?”
A ripple of anxiety shot through him. If he were smart, he’d take that legal position Charlie offered him. “Me?” He’d been tossing the idea around. Annabelle! He missed her so much his teeth ached.
Time, that’s what he needed. Somehow, his throbbing, wounded heart didn’t think it would help one dang bit.
Fragments of memories and thoughts of Annabelle thrummed to life, yet again.
Irish, oh how I wish I could be who you want me to be.
But then I wouldn’t be me. I’d be an imitation.
I’d be living a lie.
And we’d both be miserable.
“Yeah, Max, you can come work in the stock room and then I can boss you around.” Danny practically gloated as he sailed into the building. “Bruno, my man!” His brother clapped the guard on his shoulder.
“Danny, life treating you good?”
“No complaints from me. You?”
“Same here.”
Max looked up to see Bruno staring at him hard. “What did I do?”
His silence caused alarm bells to go off in Max.
“Ah, something serious.”
“That’s up to you to decide. I’m just the messenger.” He fished in his top pocket and pulled out a baggie.
“Bruno, seriously? I’m going to be a cop. I don’t do that stuff.”
Danny cuffed him on the arm. “Max, quit it!”
The guard grinned. “This I think can mess you up in a whole other way, my friend.”
Max let out a whistle and took the bag, eyeing the slip of white paper inside. “That bad?”
“Like I said, it’s all on you.” He held up his hands and backed away.
***
“What is it?” Danny breathed down his neck as Max sank into a chair in Bruno’s office.
“Don’t you have a job to get to, bro?”
“I’m early. Let me see.”
“Coffee’s over there, if you want any.” Bruno nodded as he kicked back in his own seat.
Visions of what it could be exploded in Max’s head. On instinct, he knew it was from Annabelle. She turned his little game on him. With more courage than he felt, he clicked open the bag and dug out the crisp paper. Unfolding it, he read the feminine scroll. Tonight. 9 p.m. Rooftop. Irish.
His heart hammered in his chest. She wanted to see him. Why? Their last rooftop meeting had gone from hot to not in less than fifteen minutes. The hottest kiss he’d ever received had quickly turned into a disastrous ending.
“Max has got a date,” Danny said in a singsong voice.
“Maybe,” he said under his breath. Or she could be throwing him off the roof instead.
Then again, he didn’t know if he could ever see her one last time. Not without tearing out his heart all over again.
How many times could he put himself through this?
“I’m done,” he whispered, a deep well of sadness throbbed inside him as he crumbled up the paper and threw it in the nearby trash can.
***
Annabelle purposely stayed. The backbreaking work soothed her troubled thoughts. She’d sent her crew home two hours ago, knowing they could sneak in a chance to see their kids before they went off to school or daycare.
Cleaning up would take her half the day on her own, but she’d wanted to give them a small reward for all the hard work they’d been putting in for her lately and would be in the months to come.
Alone, she’d witnessed the sun come up and the sky lighten. The spotlights were off and the air still and quiet.
“Peace. The calm before the storm.”
Looking around, she noted the quaint little stone benches running along the once plain concrete walls and the cobblestone covering the concrete floor. The corners and beds were bright with the array of colorful flowers. And in the middle, her large triple tier water fountain stood; the unique crowns and letter K engraved in the exquisite marble represented the King family as well as the department store.
“Tonight,” she promised herself. She’d come early, bring takeout, set up her meal on the little metal tables ready to be arranged, and turn on the bubbling water.
Now, if only Max would agree to her suggestion.
Traipsing through the store nearly three hours later, Annabelle ran her hand through her hair. Maybe they could fit her in at the last minute.
Her steps slowed as she neared the Charmings Beauty Bar. Annabelle’s hand shook as she clasped the handle of the glass door and jerked it open.
Dryers hummed in the background. Muted voices came from her right, farther away.
The desk area remained empty. Her nerve died. Turning away, she headed the way she’d just come from.
“Oh, no you don’t!” That voice sounded so familiar. “Stop! S-t-o-p!”
She did as he said.
“Turn.”
Again, she followed the demand.
“It is you!” Rico pressed his hands to his cheeks. “O-M-G! What have you gotten yourself into this time?”
“Nice to see you, too.”
He half snorted. “Come, let Uncle Rico help.”
Annabelle gulped hard. “Is it salvageable? Am I?” She’d never cared that much for all the fuss over hair and nails; she’d worked hard for a living and didn’t throw away money on girlie things.
Since meeting Max, she cared.
Funny how he’d only seen her at her worst. And he still cared, and made her feel beautiful. And all woman.
Rico tapped his finger against his lips. “Hmm…”
“I want to look on the outside how I feel on the inside. For a date.” A woman with wants and needs. A woman in love.
“Ooh la la! I can do.”
Twenty minutes later, escorted to the nearly empty executive floor, Annabelle had second and third thoughts. “Seriously?”
“Lunch time. You need a shower, girl!” He clucked, draping a plush hot pink robe over his arm. “In a pinch, we use Griff’s.”
“He won’t mind?” By all accounts, he didn’t seem like the kind of guy to go out of his way by letting just anyone in his domain.
“I called ahead to Peg. She’s waiting for us.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Pegster!” He rushed forward to greet the tall woman with the clipboard. “We’ve got our work cut out for us.”
“I’ll say,” she agreed, looking Annabelle up and down. “Holy hangnails and hot sauce, you’re a sight.”
She did a double take. “Huh?”
“You’ll get used to our Peg and her sayings.” Rico waved her off. “Is the boss gone?”
The assistant glanced at her watch. “En route to pick up the little one as we speak.”
“Phew!” He turned to Annabelle, saying, “Coast is clear. Now, hurry up.”
Following their pointed fingers, Annabelle threw up her hands, giving in. The office, sleek and modern, shouted hands off. Warning bells sounded. “Are you sure?”
Hands shoved her back, directing her to the closed door several yards away. She dragged her feet. They pushed.
“Move it, will ya?”
Peg must have turned around; Annabelle felt the solid pressure against her back. “Pushy thing, aren’t you?”
“Stubborn, aren’t you?” Peg returned without missing a beat.
“My middle name,” she agreed, remembering telling Max that a few weeks ago. Max! With thoughts of him and how she’d given Bruno the note, she gave in.
“Whoa!” Peg cried, nearly tumbling over. “Geez, why don’t you tell a girl you changed your mind?”
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Okay, I’m going.” She marched into the neat and tidy room and gazed around. “It’s pristine. I’m not.”
“Kick off those god-awful boots,” Rico instructed. “Peg, got a big trash bag for the clothes?”
“One ginormous trash bag coming right up, Rico!” She rushed out, throwing over her shoulder,
“You so owe me for this one, bub.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know the drill. Drinks at Rico’s.” He sighed, heavy and long, as he looked Annabelle over. “Strip.”
“What?! I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Oh, honey, I’m not that kind of boy.” He laughed. Waving her into the shower, he said, “Go. There. Hand over the grunge look.”
At least she’d have the protection of the enclosure, Annabelle thought as she slid off her boots and yanked off her socks. Standing in the stall, she quickly shucked off her clothes, clutching pieces to her. “Don’t look.”
“As if,” he muttered, shoving bottles at her. “Here, take. Use.”
“Trash bag.” Peg’s voice echoed in the room.
A second later, Annabelle tossed in her clothes, wondering how in the world she’d agreed to this fiasco.
“Turn knobs,” Rico called out.
Peg snorted with laughter.
“Not hers! Hello, water.”
Grinning, she did as he said, jumping as the cool blast hit her square in the face. Gulp! Gulp! Quickly, she adjusted the temperature to hot.
“Scrub.”
“I know. I know.” She used the shampoo. “Hmm…floral. Nice.”
His sigh bounced off the walls. “Don’t make me come in there!”
She squeaked. “Nope. Hurrying.” In less than ten measly minutes, Annabelle watched the last of the dirt spiral down the drain and turn to clear liquid again. “Done!” She turned the water off and held out a hand. “Towel, please.”
No one answered.
Squeezing her hair out, she called again. “Hello? Rico? Peg?”
“Boss 3!” Peg’s voice rose from the office. “What are you doing back here?”
“The question is what are you two doing here?” Griffin asked.
Annabelle’s heart dropped to her knees.
Chapter 23
She reached out, searching for a towel. Someone smacked her hand. “Ouch!”
“Rico?” The warning reverberated through the wall.
“Bathroom issues, Griff,” Rico called out, flushing the toilet, and slamming the door. “Shouldn’t of had that whatchamacallit for brunch. You know takeout makes my tummy queasy.”
once upon a romance 08 - making a splash Page 14
