New Year, New Love

by Sherry Lewis

  Emilee let out a yelp. “He did? Did you say yes?”

  “Yes.”

  Emilee squealed in delight. “When are you going?”

  “Friday night.”

  Christa shot a look at Emilee that Sharon couldn’t read. “So that means?”

  Ignoring her, Emilee rounded the desk and threw her arms around Sharon’s neck. Christa joined them a moment later, and both girls babbled about dresses and shoes and hair and makeup for several minutes. Despite Sharon’s best efforts, she couldn’t work up any matching excitement. Nervousness, yes. And she had plenty of second thoughts. But no excitement.

  She waited until the girls exhausted themselves, extricated herself from her chair and retrieved her coat from the rack in the corner. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “We need to go shopping,” Emilee said with a firm nod.

  “Not tonight,” Sharon pleaded. “I’m exhausted.”

  “But your date’s in two days,” Christa wailed. “We have to go. There’s no telling how long it will take to find the right outfit.”

  Sharon slipped into her coat and gathered the rest of her things. Maybe they were right. Finding a new outfit might help her work up a little enthusiasm. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow after work,” she promised. “But only for a few minutes. And I’m not spending a lot of money. It’s only drinks.”

  “Sure.” Emilee grabbed Sharon’s briefcase and started toward the door. “A few minutes. That’s all.”

  Sharon trailed them out the door, locking it behind them. And she tried not to let the realization that she’d accepted a date with a perfect stranger frighten her. But the truth was, it scared her half to death.

  GABE STEPPED OUT of the shower and stood, dripping, in front of the mirror. He felt better now that he’d washed away the dirt and sweat from the temporary job he’d worked all day. Maybe tonight he’d finally be able to sleep.

  He studied the faint shadow beneath his eyes, the scowl on his face, the tight lips and creased forehead that spoke of tension and frustration that grew worse with every passing day. Maybe he’d made a mistake by walking out on his father. He certainly hadn’t been able to get Sharon out of his mind during the past two weeks. He missed seeing her more than he could have imagined.

  No. In spite of the emptiness he felt when he thought of Sharon, leaving Malone Construction hadn’t been a mistake. Much as he hated the work he’d been doing for the temporary agency, he couldn’t go back to being his father’s puppet. Not for anything.

  If only he could rid himself of the nightmares that had kept him tossing and turning into the wee hours, he’d be okay. Night after night he watched helplessly as he chased an elusive something he couldn’t see. Some nights, he stumbled through a forest. Others, he raced through city streets or even familiar construction sites. Just as he reached for the thing, he’d trip and lose it again.

  He’d have to be pretty stupid not to understand what the dream meant. He’d spent more than half of his life chasing the elusive hope that someday he’d take over the family business. That he’d get a chance to prove himself capable. That he’d keep the business running and provide security for his parents. Time after time, he’d let his hopes rise only to have them dashed again. But this time, he’d beat them on the rock himself.

  He deepened his scowl and toweled himself dry, keeping one ear tuned to the ten o’clock news on the TV in the other room. His stomach rumbled noisily, momentarily drowning out a story on a house fire in Cherry Hills. He’d skipped dinner—again. He just couldn’t seem to make himself eat.

  As he looped the towel over the rack, the telephone jarred him. He hurried into the bedroom and grabbed the receiver just before the answering machine picked up. He wedged the phone against his shoulder and rummaged in his drawer for a clean pair of boxers. “Yeah?”

  “How soon can you get over here?” his dad asked without preamble.

  Gabe’s heart stuttered. “Is something wrong? Is Mom sick?”

  “I’m at the office.” Harold’s voice sounded gruff, unyielding. “How soon can you get over here?” he repeated.

  “Why?”

  “Because I need you here.”

  Gabe couldn’t believe he’d heard those words coming from his father’s mouth. He dropped onto the foot of the bed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Derry Kennedy’s been in an accident.”

  His stomach knotted as if his dad had gut-punched him. “How bad? Was he hurt?”

  “His wife says the paramedics took him to the hospital. He’s in stable condition, but his leg’s broken and he’s got a couple of fractured ribs. He’s going to be laid up for a while.”

  Gabe’s heart sank for Derry, his wife and their four small children. “Who are you going to bring in to cover for him?”

  “I was thinking about Hank Sterne.”

  “I don’t think you’ll get him. The last I heard, he was working on that new convention complex downtown. In fact, most of the guys I’ve worked with in the past are probably on that crew.” And his dad wasn’t willing to pay enough to tempt them away.

  “I’ll think of something,” Harold said gruffly. “In the meantime, I need you to take over the Lawrence project again.”

  Gabe froze, half elated, half worried about how Sharon would react to having him around again. “You could always shift Shorty over there.”

  “Shorty doesn’t know enough to finish that project,” Harold grumbled. “I need someone I can trust on it. Someone with the skill to do it right.”

  The unexpected vote of confidence touched Gabe, but he hesitated to give in without discussing the argument that drove him away in the first place.

  “You got a problem going back there?” his dad asked.

  “No.” Gabe reached for the jeans he’d left on the foot of his bed. “I have a problem coming back to work for you until we settle things between us.”

  “What things? I need you here. I haven’t spent twenty years training you to take over just to have you walk out on me.”

  “I haven’t spent twenty years preparing to take over just to have you walk all over me.”

  “I’m trying to teach you the business.”

  “If I don’t know it after twenty years,” Gabe said patiently, “I never will. Dad, I’ve worked for you since I was seventeen years old. When are you going to let me work with you?”

  “What are you trying to do, boot me out so you can take over?”

  “No. I want you to do as much as you can for as long as you can. But I also want you to be realistic and admit when it’s too much.”

  “I made this company. Built it with my own two hands.”

  “I know, Dad.” Gabe summoned every bit of tact he had in reserve. “But some things have slipped past you lately. All I’m asking is that you split some of the responsibility with me. Let’s bring in one or two new guys and let me spend some time each week in the office.”

  A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Finally, just when Gabe thought he’d have to choose between giving in and walking away, his dad let out a heavy sigh. “All right. We’ll talk about it. Now, are you going to take over the Lawrence job again, or not?”

  “I’ll do it,” Gabe said. “Have you told her yet?”

  “Her?”

  “Mrs. Lawrence. Does she know I’ll be there in Derry’s place?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No. No, it doesn’t.”

  “Good.” Harold shuffled some papers near the telephone. “The electrician finished prewiring for the intercom system yesterday, so you can start on the Sheetrock tomorrow.”

  “Great.”

  “I want you to head over there first thing. She’ll be going over to Beekman’s to pick out light fixtures, but she told Derry she’d leave a key with the neighbor to the north.”

  Disappointment snaked through Gabe at the thought that he wouldn’t see her until evening. But he’d waited two weeks already, he could wait a few more hours.

 
; ON ACHING FEET, Sharon trailed Emilee and Christa through the mall’s center court for the third time in two hours. Valentine decorations had taken over the entire mall. Hearts and cupids dangled between mannequins in display windows. Everything in sight was either red, white or pink. Plush bears, stuffed devils, boxes of candy. Signs at the jewelry stores urged lovesick young couples to select the diamond that would ensure lasting happiness.

  Love was in the air.

  Sharon pushed aside a wave of wistfulness, the ridiculous wish that her first date in five years was with Gabe, not Ed. If wishes were fishes, she told herself grimly.

  Ed seemed nice. She could at least give him a chance. Who knew—maybe Adelle was right. Maybe she’d discover all sorts of wonderful things about him. True, looking into his eyes had done nothing for her, but that didn’t mean she might not feel something later. And the annoying fact that Gabe’s face, not Ed’s, kept drifting into her imagination…well, that meant nothing.

  She slowed her step and waited for Emilee and Christa to notice. They’d been in nearly every store that sold women’s clothing, but they still hadn’t found anything they could agree on. The outfits Emilee and Christa approved were too expensive or revealing. And when Sharon found something she liked, Emilee and Christa vetoed her choice as either old-fashioned or dowdy.

  Finally the girls turned back to look for her. “Let’s forget about shopping and stop at the food court,” she suggested.

  Christa frowned. “We can’t forget about shopping. Your date’s tomorrow night.”

  They seemed to care more about it than Sharon did. She looked longingly at an empty bench. “At least let’s sit down for a few minutes…”

  Emilee tugged her forward. “There’s one more store I want to try. And even if we find you a dress there, we still have to get shoes and an evening bag.”

  “I don’t know why I need to go to all this bother,” Sharon protested. “I’m just having drinks with the man.”

  Christa rolled her eyes in exasperation. “It’s your first date in five years, Mom.”

  “Maybe so. But I don’t see why I can’t just wear my black pantsuit.”

  “Because it’s old,” Emilee said.

  “And it’s way out of style,” Christa added.

  “Do you have any idea how unattractive you’re making me feel?”

  Emilee’s face fell. “We just want you to look your best.”

  “Yeah,” Christa said. “You’re going to look gorgeous by the time we get through with you.”

  Sharon glanced at her charcoal wool pants and gray silk blouse, both of which she’d owned forever, and smiled at both her daughters. “Are you trying to say I don’t look gorgeous now?”

  Christa took her other arm. “No. You look fine. You always do. This isn’t the right look for your first date, that’s all.”

  “Trust us, Mom,” Emilee said as she led her past the food court.

  Sharon sighed softly. “One more store. If we can’t find something there, I’ll make do with what I already own.”

  Christa shot a look of such frantic desperation at her sister, Sharon nearly laughed aloud. She allowed the girls to lead her. Too late, she realized Emilee and Christa intended to take her into a trendy store she’d always considered far beyond her budget.

  She ground to a halt and shook her head. “Not here. I can’t afford it.”

  Emilee urged her forward. “Relax. It’s not as expensive as you think.”

  Christa tugged on her other arm. “Trust us, Mom.”

  Against her better judgment, Sharon relented. While Emilee and Christa hurried toward a display of evening dresses, she stopped at a carousel and checked the tag on a pair of silk pants. The price made her gasp aloud. They wanted her to trust them? She could buy a month’s groceries for what those pants cost.

  She tried to catch their eyes and motion them outside, but Emilee had already pulled two dresses from the rack. One, a long beaded gown. The other a short black dress with thin straps that wouldn’t cover much and probably wouldn’t come close to reaching her knees.

  Shaking her head quickly, Sharon backed a step away as Emilee approached. She’d feel like a fool in the long gown and she didn’t have the figure to pull off the short one.

  “Try these on,” Emilee said, holding them out to her.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, come on, Mom.”

  Christa came up behind her, cutting off her escape route. “I like the short one. The long one may be too much. But if it looks terrific…”

  “It is too much,” Sharon protested. “And the short one is too short. I can’t wear something like that. It doesn’t even have any sleeves.”

  “So?” Emilee held them out to her again. “You have great arms.”

  “I have flabby arms.”

  Christa sighed heavily. “Just try it on, okay? If it looks bad, you don’t have to buy it.”

  Sharon hesitated before accepting the gowns from Emilee. She snuck a peek at the price tags, and noted with surprise that the price of both gowns had been marked down by fifty percent. A little pricey, but not outlandish. She still didn’t like the long gown. Not for drinks with a man she didn’t know. But the girls wouldn’t let up on the shorter one until she proved to them how dreadful she looked.

  She slipped into the dressing room and changed quickly. To her amazement, the black dress flattered her figure nicely. She turned sideways and checked her profile. The cut of the dress actually made her look slimmer.

  Hesitantly, she pulled open the dressing-room door. Emilee saw her first. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes lit with excitement. She grabbed Christa’s arm and pulled her around to face Sharon.

  Christa beamed with excitement. “That’s it. That’s the one. You look wonderful.”

  Sharon glanced at the expanse of leg the dress left exposed. “You don’t think it’s too short?”

  “Not at all,” Emilee assured her. “Your legs look great.”

  “Perfect,” Christa said with a nod.

  A salesclerk appeared out of nowhere, gave Sharon a once-over, and smiled. “It looks like it was made for you.”

  Sharon usually dismissed the sales pitch. But she had to admit the dress did look good. Better than she could have ever imagined.

  She smiled slowly. “You don’t think I’d be making a mistake?”

  “The only mistake you’ll make with this dress,” the clerk said quickly, “is if you don’t buy it. At this price—”

  “You have to get it,” Emilee interrupted. “I saw the perfect shoes to go with it earlier.”

  Christa turned her around to face a full-length mirror. “You’ll really impress him in that dress, Mom. Seriously.”

  Some of Sharon’s enthusiasm faded as quickly as it had appeared. The one man she wanted to impress with this dress would probably never see it.

  Oh, grow up, she told herself sternly. At least Ed was interested. She worked up a smile. “You’ve talked me into it. I’ll buy the dress. And I want you to show me those shoes. But, please, let’s have something to eat first.”

  A short while later, clutching the bag holding her dress, she led the way toward the food court. Emilee and Christa trailed her, smiling, chattering, laughing, and Sharon knew she’d made the right decision. From this moment forward, she’d stop wishing and start living. And if that meant putting Gabe completely out of her mind, well, that’s exactly what she’d do.

  CHAPTER TEN

  GABE REACHED INTO the high cupboard in his mother’s kitchen and lifted down a heavy ceramic serving tray. He’d waited for Sharon to come home until he couldn’t stand waiting any longer. Instead of heading home, he’d come here—like a kid with a scratched knee running home to his mother. Not that he wanted to talk about Sharon. He just didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to sit at Milago’s and feel sorry for himself. And his mother had a way of making everything seem all right.

  “Is this the one you want, Mom?” he asked, looking back at h
er over his shoulder.

  She nodded and added a handful of carrot slices to the salad at her side. “That’s the one,” she said in the soft voice that always seemed to soothe everything. “Be careful with it. It was my mother’s, you know.”

  Gabe knew. She’d been telling him the same thing as long as he could remember. He placed it carefully on the counter, ran his fingers over the familiar raised pattern. “I’ve always liked this dish.”

  His mother laughed and pushed playfully at his arm. “If I left it to you, Gabriel, what would you do with it? Serve hamburgers and French fries?”

  He grinned at her, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Maybe that’s all I’d use it for now anyway,” he said, hoping his voice sounded light.

  Her smile faltered. She studied him closely for several long seconds, then turned her attention back to the salad. “Tell me what puts that unhappiness in your eyes.”

  If she’d been anyone else, he might have tried to joke his way out of answering, but he’d never been able to lie to his mother. He sidestepped the question carefully. “Do I look unhappy to you?”

  “You have for quite some time, but there’s something new.”

  He reached for a piece of celery from the relish tray and munched it slowly. “You’re right about one thing. I’m not completely satisfied with my life.”

  She glanced at him, then away again. “What would you change?”

  “For one thing, I’d bring Tracy back to Denver. I hate having her so far away.”

  She frowned gently. “I know you do. But you make a mistake in thinking that you can’t be close to her anyway.”

  “I know. I’ve been trying to make things better between us. I even sent her a pair of jeans just to let her know I’m thinking about her. But every time I try to call, she’s out—at least, Helene says she is. I’m afraid I won’t ever be close to her as long as she’s living with her mother.”

  His mother placed both hands on the counter and held his gaze. “You won’t be close to her until you put Helene out of your mind.” She reached for a bowl of thawed frozen peas and added a few to the salad. “You’re still giving that woman far too much power over you.”