by Cari Quinn
The thinly veiled threats of reopening Cilla’s custody case aside, Gemma’s lawyer was petitioning for a new hearing in the hopes of getting her a new trial. The chances were slim, but her father was certain if Brodie testified on her behalf—fat chance—she’d have a good shot of at least having her ten to fifteen year sentence reduced. No doubt the fact Gemma was refusing to see either of her parents was somehow Brodie’s doing, but he couldn’t allow himself to be swayed by their insistence Gemma was only in prison because of him.
Despite Ray’s hostility this morning, Brodie knew he and Florence had no intention of suing him for custody. Their lawyer had resigned after the last court hearing and as far as Brodie knew, another hadn’t taken their case. But Gemma’s parents knew him well enough to know what buttons to push. Letting his lawyer know about the latest call seemed like overkill at this point. Ray and Florence were angry and frustrated and dealing with their only child being in prison. Reporting them to the judge would only exacerbate the situation. Better he just try to cut off communication once and for all.
It didn’t help that once he arrived at the studio, the new appointment system in the desktop computer at MARKED had decided to act all wonky and that the coffee maker had gone on strike. Actually, he wouldn’t put it past Toshi to have sabotaged said appliance. His friend was willing to do anything to shift Brodie over to his experimental tea regimen.
The only thing keeping Brodie sane at this point was the promise of seeing Regan tonight. She was like a tether to sanity, keeping him locked down and in place while the rest of the world spun around him. Just thinking about her made him feel...lighter.
He waited for the computer to reboot, drumming his fingers on the desk as he silently pleaded with the electronic Gods to grant him a reprieve and set things right once more.
The phone rang and for an instant, Brodie considered letting it go to voice mail, on the off chance Ray had tracked down MARKED’s number. But he couldn’t take the chance on losing a customer. “MARKED. How can I help you?” He answered, and within seconds felt the weight of unease loosen in his chest as he scribbled down information for a potential customer.
When the door opened and Maura Murphy walked in, Brodie almost forgot to tell his new client goodbye before he hung up. “Good morning, Maura.” He couldn’t think what else to say except to ask why she was here and that might come across as accusatory. What the teenager was doing here, however, could qualify as a mystery for the ages.
“Hi.” She shoved her hands into the tight pockets of her jeans, her worn messenger bag strapped across her torso as she rocked on her heels. “I thought about what you said yesterday. At the pub,” she added, pointing behind her as if he needed reminding where it was. She dug into the pocket of her bag and pulled out a new notebook. “I thought you might be interested in these. You know. For promotion maybe?” She handed the pages over, a thin veil of haughtiness masking uncertainty. “I noticed you didn’t have a logo or a brand around here. I took a business class last semester and they talked about how important they are, especially when starting something new. I kept to the color tones you used.”
Brodie got to his feet and open the notebook, looked down at the intricate “M” interspersed with the rest of the letters in MARKED. The design was crisp, elegant, but maintained that masculine touch he’d been going for with the interior design of the studio. The dark colors intermingled with light, creating shadows within the name of his business while making a definite and strong impression on the reader. She’d done a variety of them, all in the same style, but for use in different advertising arenas. At some point he could envision the solitary feathered edge “M” to be more than enough to identify his store.
“This is great.” Truth be told, he hadn’t had a chance to work on this end of things yet—the fun end. Things like this kept getting pushed to the bottom of the list as he dealt with store leases and house purchases and an attention gobbling five-year old. “You really did this for me?”
“I owed you.” No shrug this time and she had a bit more confidence about her; a little less edge. “If Cilla’s around, I’d like to apologize to her for the other day.”
“She’ll be here later this afternoon. I just dropped her off at day camp.” He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the logos. “I don’t suppose I could hire you to do some flyers and promotional material for me?”
Maura’s eyes went wide and he could see she was trying not to get too excited. Instead she waited an extra beat before answering. “Do you have PhotoShop on your computer? My laptop’s too old.”
“That and a whole lot of illustration programs. You’re welcome to any of them at any time.”
“Sweet. Yeah, I could do that.” And just like that, her apprehension vanished. “Tell me what information you want included—”
The phone rang again and Brodie held up a hand. “Give me a second.” The instant he lifted the receiver, the other line rang. He spun toward the second phone, but couldn’t cut off the person on the other end mid-sentence. But he didn’t have to.
Maura grabbed a pen and paper and hurried to pick up the other line. “Good morning, MARKED. How can I help you?”
Brodie refocused on the voice on his call, a middle-aged woman who was interested in getting a tattoo around her breast cancer scars. He set up a consultation—he never did tattoos on anyone’s whim as it took time to create the perfect image for a life-long commitment. He penciled her in for the following day, hanging up at the same time as Maura.
“That was a Noel Rivers.” She read off the paper. “He’s a fan of Toshi’s and asked if he could get an appointment. I took his name so Toshi could call him back once he’s in. Or I can if you have his schedule.”
“It’s on here somewhere.” Brodie pointed at the computer as it had finally blipped to life again.
“Oh, you’re using the same program Regan uses at the Pub.” She leaned over and clicked the mouse and opened the booking program. “She really likes how she can format it to fit the business. Cassidy Wells recommended it. She’s the computer guru of Lantano Valley if you’re ever in need. There’s a lot of stuff here you don’t have any use for. I could—” She bit her lip, as if afraid she’d gone too far.
Brodie dropped into his chair. He’d always been a big believer in signs and taking opportunities as they presented themselves. Sometimes they took extra and careful thought. Other times...like now...
“How are you fixed for a full-time job this summer? Provided you have a work permit,” he added.
“I've applied for one. But drawing logos and creating flyers doesn’t take that much time.” Maura stood up straight, but she was gripping the strap of her bag until her knuckles turned white.
He sat back, considered. He could be opening a can of worms by hiring Regan’s sister, but the teen was certainly showing an interest. He’d suspected she just needed a firm guiding hand and between him and Toshi, they might be able to make a difference for Maura. And her sister. “I haven’t had a chance to put an ad in the paper, but Toshi and I need someone else in the shop. It can include design work, running errands, answering phones, cleaning stations and the like. Some days might be longer than others. And I can’t think of anyone better to gauge the age of our clients.”
“And I could show them what happens when tattoos go wrong.” She rubbed a hand against her lower back.
“I can fix that, too.” Brodie arched a brow. “When you’re eighteen. I want someone in here who will take some initiative. I don’t want to hand hold. If I think you’re doing something wrong, I’ll tell you. But until you prove otherwise, I’ll trust you want to be here and that you’ll do what’s expected.”
“How many days a week?”
“You work five, two days off, preferably either Saturday or Sunday and not both. I keep strict operating hours because of Cilla. She comes first with me. She always will. You’ll be out of here by six unless there’s a special appointment.”
For an instant he thought
he saw tears well in Maura’s eyes, but she blinked so fast he might have imagined it.
“Okay.”
“You didn’t ask me about pay,” Brodie said.
“You’re fair. I’ll take what you’re offering. But I’ll want something in return. I want to learn the business. I want to train under you.”
“You want to be a tattoo artist?” He wasn’t so sure that would sit well with Regan. Or her brothers.
“I want to learn about art of all kinds. Besides, if I learn this, it’s something that will always get me work if I need it.”
A girl looking toward the future. This wasn’t the Maura Regan knew, he was sure of it. The question was, why didn’t she? His instincts about Maura were being proven correct. She was searching, trying to find her way, much like he had at one time.
“Welcome to MARKED.” He held out his hand, shaking hers and then got out of the chair again, motioning for her to take his place. “This is officially your desk.” The phone rang again and she glanced up at him, questioning. “Have at it, Maura. When you’re done, I’ll give you the grand tour.”
~*~
“If you two don’t stop whispering behind my back, I’m going to make Des cook breakfast tomorrow morning,” Regan told Liam as he elbowed Seamus in the ribs. Most of the Murphy kids got some portion of the cooking gene. Except for Des. He could burn water. “Honestly, you guys. You make it seem as if me going on a date is as rare as a Yeti sighting.”
“Except I’ve actually seen a Yeti,” Seamus said with a straight face as his brother abandoned him to return to the kitchen. “Tall guy, bright white fur, fangs down to here.” He indicated his waist.
Regan couldn’t help it. She laughed. She loved that they cared and that they wanted her to have some semblance of a life outside the pub and home, but it wouldn’t last. It never had before. It would ease their conscience for a while, she supposed, and be good for a week or so of teasing and good-natured ribbing, but when things settled down and they realized that without her around, not much would get done, they’d back off and she’d be able to walk away from Brodie without much backlash.
Except maybe from Brodie.
She’d just have to convince him that she was a terrible bet. That they were better off being friends because friends gave allowances that...what? Boyfriends? Lovers? Husbands...
Whoa! Where had that come from? She clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking.
She glanced at the clock above the bar. Final countdown to date mode. She blew out a breath and pressed her lips into a straight line. At least the influx of customers today had been briskly paced. She’d made sure what she wore to work was suitable for whatever she and Brodie might do tonight. In another few hours Brodie would pick her up and they’d be off, no doubt to a chorus of well-wishes from her brothers and perhaps, given the whispers she’d heard around the bar all day, her other employees.
Two hours. One hundred twenty minutes. She’d make it. The smile that tipped her lips had her covering her mouth, a mouth Brodie had kissed less than a day ago. A kiss she could still feel if she closed her eyes and...
“Regan? What are you doing?” Fallon’s soft voice reached her ears as gentle hands tugged on her T-shirt.
Regan’s face went red hot as she avoided Fallon’s curious gaze. “Nothing important. Hey, any idea where your sister disappeared to all day?”
“Maybe.” Fallon climbed onto one of the pub stools and sat on her heels. “I promised I wouldn’t tell.”
“Must have something to do with that job she was telling us about then.” Regan suspected Maura was putting them on with that claim. She couldn’t remember her sister showing any interest in employment before and given her actions recently, it seemed an odd time for her to develop a sense of responsibility. How she wanted to be wrong.
“As long as Maura’s secret isn’t dangerous, you can keep it,” Regan told her baby sister and stroked a finger down Fallon’s cheek. “You know that, right? If a secret might hurt someone, you need to tell someone you trust.”
“I know.” Fallon rolled her eyes in that same way Finn had. “Secrets aren’t supposed to hurt. If Maura gets the job, she’ll tell us and then I won’t have to keep it a secret. But it’s a gooooood secret,” she added with a grin that reminded Regan so much of their mother her breath halted in her chest. “It’ll be a surprise.”
Yeah. Regan was a big fan of Maura’s surprises. “So, what did you study today at science camp?” She cast weary eyes on the biology text book that looked thicker than the one Regan had in her two years in college.
“We’re doing experiments with DNA and mitosis.” Fallon’s eyes went wide with excitement. “Tomorrow we’re going to examine amoebas under the microscope. It’s going to be so cool.”
“It sounds like it.” It also sounded as if the money Regan had managed to save for Fallon’s summer activity was paying off in spades. So what if it had meant delaying repairs to her car. The daily two mile walk had its own reward in helping to clear Regan’s mind. As if that were possible.
Must be The Brodie Effect. He was, for want of a better term, distracting and Regan couldn’t afford to pull her eyes away from the family; not when hers were the only ones securely pinned on it.
She’d just have to consider dinner with Brodie tonight a reward and leave it at that. They could be friends. Hopefully. She could always do with more of those, but anything else—anything that would entail an obligation or responsibility, there just wasn’t room.
The reasoned approach, however, wasn’t doing anything to quell the nerves that continued to increase and play a rousing game of hopscotch in her torso. She rubbed a hand against her sternum, shaking her head as she resisted the urge to glance at the clock again.
Five o’clock would arrive faster than anticipated and then...her smile dipped. And then things would be back to normal. And normal did not—could not—include Brodie Crawford.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I’ll say this about you,” Toshi muttered under his breath as he arranged his station for his incoming client. “You don’t mind taking chances. But in this case, it might just pay off.” He angled a sideways glance to Maura who had effectively taken over the front counter and made it her own, rearranging things on the desk as she efficiently maneuvered between phone calls, computer programs, and finishing up the new client discount flyer he hoped to distribute to different businesses in the area. “Although we did say we’d be deciding on a receptionist together.”
“That’s what you get for taking the morning off.” Brodie glanced at the clock. Almost four. He’d already confirmed his and Regan’s dinner reservations at Rico’s, a just opened Mexican restaurant within walking distance to both MARKED and the pub. Toshi was geared up for an evening of Curious George and Hero 6, he let Brodie deal with the umpteen viewings of Frozen, along with Toshi’s special pasta something Cilla didn’t realize came in a can. She assumed Toshi was just that magical in the kitchen that he could turn pasta into little circles. Far be it for Brodie to destroy her illusions.
However disastrous his day had started out, things had righted themselves soon after Maura settled in. The phone rarely rang more than twice before she answered and she definitely had a pleasant way of interacting with the customers. The attitude he’d experienced before was nowhere to be seen. Part of him felt guilty. He’d bet if she’d shown this much affinity for working around Regan at the pub, he wouldn’t have the chance to hire her himself. Not that Maura gave any inclination of affection when it came to her family’s business. No doubt there were depths to be plumbed there, but it wasn’t his concern. But if the subject happened to come up tonight...
The phone rang again, but this time a few moments after Maura answered, she spun around in her chair and waved to Brodie. She cupped the receiver in her hand and extended it to him. “It’s a Janet Banner for you. She says it’s urgent.”
Brodie’s entire body went cold. “That’s Cilla’s camp counselor.” He snatched up th
e phone. “Janet? What’s wrong?”
“Cilla’s had an accident,” Janet said in that calm tone he’d appreciated from the moment they’d met. “We think she’s okay, but she hurt her arm falling off the monkey bars at the park. Eve’s taking her to the hospital—”
“Which hospital?” Brodie grabbed his keys out of the top drawer and cast a grateful glance at Maura as she handed him his cell phone. That white noise hum erupted in his ears and almost deafened him to the information he needed.
“Lantano Memorial. They’re in the emergency room now.”
“I’m on my way.” He handed the phone to Maura, who finished the conversation for him and hung up. “Toshi?”
Toshi waved his hands and shooed him out the door. “Go. Maura and I can close up when it’s time. Just let us know what’s going on.”
“Don’t forget to call—" Maura yelled as he slammed out the back door to the alley behind the store and dived into his Ford Escape, gunning the engine, determined to make the seven minute drive to the hospital in record-breaking time.
~*~
“Not one for punctuality, is he?” Finn sidled up beside Regan as she continued to wipe the same beer glass she’d been polishing for the last ten minutes. It was nearly six. The open sign on MARKED was still on, but there was no sign of Brodie. “I can go over and see—”
“No.” Regan tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “No, you’ve done enough, thanks.” This was what she wanted, wasn't it? An excuse to back out of their date? For something to get in the way so she wouldn’t have to face the possibility of there being something special—something powerful—between her and Brodie.
“Are you sure he didn’t call?” Finn asked. She could tell he was trying to be supportive despite the anger radiating off her little brother. He didn’t take kindly to people messing with his family, unless said messee was their father. With Cormac, Finn’s—along with the rest of the Murphy kids—courage faltered and the status quo remained.
