He pulled a chair over and sat opposite her. “You and I are all we’ve got, honey. If you stop talking to me, then we’re in real trouble. I tried calling you several times. Where have you been this afternoon?”
She lifted her head. Rick was shocked at her pallor. “I went to the restaurant to thank her and to apologize for not telling her you didn’t know anything.”
He’d thought she might have gone over there. “That was the right thing to do.”
“She said that since you’d been to see her this morning, it wasn’t necessary, but she was glad I did. She gave me my paycheck right there.” She strangled back a little sob. “She said that if you ever changed your mind, the job was always open. Abby’s the nicest person I’ve ever known.”
Abby already? Not Mrs. Chappuis?
“Everyone loves her, Dad. So do I.”
He scratched behind the Scotch terrier’s ears. For a daughter who used praise stintingly, even over her favorite teacher, those were strong words to describe someone who’d been a total stranger a few days ago.
She didn’t say any more because she’d broken down sobbing. The sound went straight to his gut.
“Brittany, I had no idea you were so unhappy at home you got it in your head to look for a job. We moved here to have fun this summer. I thought you and I made a great team.”
She wiped her eyes. “I thought we did, too. How come you had to bring Jennifer with us?”
“We’ve been over this before. I’ve never left you alone. You need someone to take care of you when I’m at work.”
“I’m not a baby!”
“Everyone needs someone, I don’t care how old you are. It’s not good to be by yourself in an empty house for hours on end. I don’t like it when you’re gone and I’m alone. Is it Jennifer you object to? Be honest with me.”
“No. I like her a lot.”
“Then what is it?”
She put her arm around Buddy, who’d jumped up on the bed to comfort her. “Nothing.”
That was a lie, but it was going to take time to get the whole truth out of her.
“Guess what? I bought that sailboat we looked at last week. It’s waiting at the marina for us to take out right now.”
She raised her face from the dog’s black fur. “You go ahead without me if you want. I’m going to bed.”
“Brittany—”
“Sorry, Dad, but I don’t feel like doing anything. If you want to move back to Escondido, it’s okay with me.” Tears trickled down her pale cheeks. “We shouldn’t have come here. I bet Abby thinks I’m an idiot.”
The pain in her eyes disturbed him as much what she said. He’d seen her upset before, but she always snapped right back. To fall into a depression this severe was totally unlike the daughter he’d raised almost since she was born.
“Mrs. Chappuis would never have hired you if she’d thought that. The only thing that concerned her was the fact that you didn’t clear it with me first.”
Her eyes filled again. “I was afraid to ask you in case you said no.”
He heaved a sigh. “Am I that much of an ogre?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s too late now anyway. I just want to go to sleep.”
Rick had reached an impasse with his daughter.
“All right.” He got up and moved the chair to the table. “I’ll look in on you later.”
He walked into the living room where the middle-aged housekeeper was talking to someone on the phone. Probably her sister. She covered the mouthpiece and looked up at him. “I take it she’s still upset?”
Brittany wasn’t the only one. “Yes. Did she tell you anything?”
Jennifer shook her head.
He sucked in his breath. “Will that picnic keep until tomorrow?”
“Of course. I’ll put everything back in the fridge.”
“I appreciate it.”
“What about your dinner? Can I fix you something?”
“No thanks. I’m not hungry.” He reached for the newspaper, grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and wandered out onto the deck.
From the railing he could view the northern end of the bay where his new sailboat was moored. If he looked in the opposite direction, he saw the pier-side shops and restaurants still bustling with activity. One eating establishment in particular caught his attention.
By the time he called it a night and went to bed, he’d made a decision. Only time would tell if he lived to regret it, but he couldn’t allow the situation to go on like this any longer.
THE NEXT MORNING, as Abby started down the stairs of her apartment, she heard the buzzer at the service entrance around the back of the restaurant. She checked her watch. Ten to ten. Fabrice was a little earlier than usual today. She hurried around to unlock it.
“Bonjour, Fabrice,” she said as she pushed the door wide so his bread cart would clear the opening. “Ca va aujourd’ hui?”
“I don’t know how Fabrice is, but I’m fine.”
Her head flew back.
Richard Jakeman! Wearing a light gray suit that fit his body to perfection. He smelled as good as before, his black hair still damp from the shower.
The blood pounded in her ears. She hadn’t expected to see him again.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, Mrs. Chappuis.”
“That’s all right.”
“When you didn’t answer the phone, I knocked at the front door. Then I took a chance you might be around back. I remembered you told me you have deliveries at this time.”
She took an extra breath. “That’s true. The vendor from the boulangerie will be here any minute.”
His scrutiny made her nervous.
“I heard the phone ring, but I was in the middle of something. The answering machine picks up all my calls. I would have returned yours.”
Abby groaned. She was talking too fast, running on and on. She needed to get a grip.
Something was wrong at home for him to show up here this morning. Disturbed by the situation with Brittany, Abby hadn’t slept well. The teen had made such a sincere apology, she’d moved Abby to the point of tears.
“Is your daughter all right?” she ventured.
He stared hard at her. “What do you think?”
Just as she’d surmised.
Abby averted her eyes. “Come in.”
Locking the door again, she showed her surprise visitor to the office on the other side of the stairs.
By the time he stood opposite her desk where she’d sat down, she’d hoped to have recovered her equilibrium, but no such luck. His presence seemed to dominate the tiny room. If she could just avoid that all-encompassing gaze. No doubt he had too much pent up energy to sit.
“Did you mean it when you told Brittany the door would always be open?” he asked without preamble.
Abby’s pulse rate picked up. Once again she found herself looking into those intense eyes. The faint shadows beneath them hinted that he’d spent a restless night, too.
“Of course. Does this mean you’ve changed your mind about her working?”
He studied her features for a moment. “Let’s just say the situation warrants a second look. But you may not be agreeable when I ask you to cut down her hours.”
She stirred restlessly. “What did you have in mind?”
“If you need her the full six hours a day, then it can’t work, because I’ve converted to summer hours and will be home by four-fifteen.”
“I don’t see that as a problem.”
He put his hands in his pockets. “We’re going to take advantage of the water and go sailing together as often as we can.”
She gave him high marks for being a loving father. When she’d first met him, she hadn’t thought him capable of compromise, but he’d had a change of heart for his daughter’s sake.
“That sounds wonderful for both of you. Under the circumstances four hours a day works for me.”
He looked
relieved. “You’re being very understanding about this.”
“Four hours a day is enough for anyone starting out on their first job.”
“My thoughts exactly. I’ll go back and tell Brittany.” His eyebrows met in a frown. “She stayed home from school this morning because of a bad headache. When I tell her she has her job back, I’m sure she’ll get well in a hurry and be here at noon.”
Abby rose to her feet. “If she still feels too ill today, tell her I’ll be expecting her tomorrow.”
Their eyes met. “Thank you.” He shook her hand. Before he let it go she felt warmth creep through her arm to her entire body.
“You’re welcome. I’ll be glad to get her back.”
A brooding look stole over his face. She had the impression he wanted to say something else, then thought better of it. What was wrong now?
But before she could recover her wits to ask him, he’d left her office and was out the self-locking rear service door.
CHAPTER THREE
BY SOME FLUKE Rick managed to beat his daughter home from work on Friday afternoon. They were going to get Chinese on their way to the boat. He’d given Jennifer the afternoon and evening off to do what she wanted.
Buddy followed him while he changed into shorts and a T-shirt. When Brittany still hadn’t arrived, he riffled through his mail on the kitchen counter. Then he reached for the newspaper. After staring at the headlines without reading them, he tossed the paper aside and began pacing.
Brittany should have been home by now. She’d kept to their bargain all week. They had an agreement. Four o’clock sharp. It was almost quarter after now. He had half a mind to go over to Chez André and find out what was keeping her.
“Come on, Buddy. I’ll take you out.” He attached the leash to the dog and they left the condo. He’d almost reached the door for the stairs at the end of the hall when it opened.
“Dad! Hey, Buddy—”
The dog tried to break away from his leash to get to her.
“Sorry I’m late. Some firemen came to the restaurant to do a demonstration on the new extinguishers. We all had to be there and watch in case we ever have to use one.”
Rick had come to a standstill, barely taking in her explanation. Except for the same jeans and blouse she’d put on for school that morning, he almost didn’t recognize her. It was her hair. She’d pulled it back into a French braid. Exactly like…
“What do you think?” She twirled in front of him. “Abby said I had to do something to keep it confined or wear a hairnet.”
He tugged on the end of it. “You look lovely.” More sophisticated. He wasn’t prepared for the change.
She beamed. “Thanks. Abby showed me how to do it.”
Rick had guessed as much.
“Do you think I could get my ears pierced?”
Another first. The power Abby Chappuis already had over his daughter alarmed him.
“Let’s talk about that on our way to the harbor.”
“It’s hot out. Give me time to change into my shorts.”
“Okay. Buddy and I’ll wait outside.”
“I’ll hurry.”
A few minutes later, she joined them. They walked a short distance to the Chinese take out near the pier, then gravitated to the patio to eat. She was so excited, she didn’t even notice he’d bought her favorite char-shu.
“How was school?”
“I aced my math test. Abby taught me a way to remember the double negative and I got a hundred percent.”
Abby again. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks for letting me keep my job. I love working!” she said, pushing at her food with her chopsticks. “Chet has been teaching me how to stack the dishes in the machine. There’s a real science to it. He’s says I’m a little on the short side, but not too short.”
His five-foot-three daughter took after her mother in that department.
“How old is Chet?”
“He’s a senior in college getting his degree in business. There’s another guy, Tony, who washes dishes too, mostly at dinner. Anyway, Chet wants to own a restaurant like Abby’s one day. He knows a lot already. Between you and me I think he’s got a huge crush on her.”
After meeting Mrs. Chappuis, Rick was tempted to tell his daughter Chet would be lucky to get in at the end of a very long line behind the woman’s husband.
“Did you know they only serve one thing so they don’t have menus?”
He finished off another deep fried shrimp. “I didn’t know that.”
“It’s called fondue au fromage. The u has to be pure.”
“You sounded French just now.” If ever anyone was a quick study, it was his daughter.
“Thanks. Abby taught me some other French words, too. She says I have a good ear and ought to sign up for it at school in the fall.”
Was that so?
“Of course she speaks with an accent from Lausanne. Chet said her husband, André, was from there, but he died.”
Rick stopped chewing. “What happened to him?”
“Chet said they were in a bad car accident on the Santa Ana freeway and he was killed.”
“That’s tragic.”
“I know. It’s so sad. She met him on a tour in Switzerland while she was in college. His family runs a restaurant over there. Chet says she never got over losing him.”
That explained the ring she still wore.
“The restaurant’s named after him.”
André Chappuis…
“I’m learning how to pronounce the wines. You should see their huge wine cellar! Not that it’s really a cellar. They import three kinds from Switzerland. The Neuchatel and kirsch, for making fondue.”
The revelation that Abby’s husband had died made it difficult for him to concentrate on what his daughter was saying.
“The other one is a white wine for drinking with it. I can’t remember the name. Chass something. It comes from the vineyards in Sierre, Switzerland, where they speak French and German. I’m trying to learn everything as fast as I can so I can become a waitress.”
Didn’t he know it! “Slow down, honey.” He prodded her with his elbow, indicating the fast-cooling take-out carton she’d barely touched. “These are early days yet.”
Brittany ignored him. In fact, she was oblivious of their surroundings. The patio had become more crowded since they’d sat down. He had an idea his daughter’s chatter was amusing the people at the table next to them. “On Monday, Abby’s going to show me how the fondue is made. You have to use special cheeses she imports from this town called Gruyères, except I’m not saying it right.”
Rick wondered how long Abby’s husband had been deceased as he swallowed the last of his spring roll.
“There’s a big painting of it over the fireplace in the restaurant. It’s the most adorable mountain village you’ve ever seen with this fabulous castle. You can’t drive cars there.”
“Where?” Rick asked, still deep in thought.
“Gruyères. I want to go to Switzerland, Dad. I’m going to save up my money. Abby says—”
“You know something, kiddo?” he interrupted her. “You haven’t touched your food.”
“I’m not hungry. Abby let me eat some French bread and cheese on my break. It’s really good. She gets it from an authentic French bakery in San Diego. They deliver it fresh every day.”
Yes. Rick had found that out the first morning he’d gone over to talk to Mrs. Chappuis.
“All the employees eat it, but no one seems to gain weight because they work too hard.”
Rick took a moment to drink some of his water. “What do you think about the rest of the staff?”
“Everyone’s great. Even though they’re older than me, they treat me like I’m one of them.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”
“Abby’s the best!”
He grated his teeth. Waving away a seagull that was brazenly edging too close along the patio railing, he asked, “Do you have homework fro
m class?”
“A little. I’ll get it done later.”
“Anything you need me to help you with?”
“D-a-d. I think I’ve got it covered. Oh, hey, I invited Danice for the weekend. Is it okay if she comes in the morning?”
“I was about to suggest it.” His daughter needed to concentrate on someone besides the owner of the restaurant.
“Good. I’ll call her right now. I want to introduce her to Abby. She said I could.”
“Brittany?” he called after her, but she’d jumped up and walked away from him down the sidewalk and was already speaking into her cell phone. Rick grimaced. It appeared Chet wasn’t the only one who’d developed a crush on the boss.
His daughter had grown up with several wonderful housekeepers over the years. Rick couldn’t have made it without them. But apparently they weren’t anything like Abby Chappuis.
After five hours of sailing, he returned to the condo with an exhilarated daughter in tow. Normally Rick would have been on a high, too. But while he’d tried to explain the basics of sailing to his daughter, she’d treated him to a nonstop litany of her boss’s virtues.
He looked down at the dog and tossed him a treat. “You know what, Buddy? I need to pay Mrs. Chappuis another visit pronto.”
After meeting with her on Monday morning, Rick had no idea he would have to set more ground rules this soon. It was a good thing he wasn’t doing anything with Liz this weekend. Maybe next.
Once he’d showered and changed, Rick asked Jennifer to keep an eye on Brittany, who’d settled down to watch a TV program with Buddy on her lap. The restaurant stopped serving at ten. He checked his watch. It was quarter to ten.
Minutes later, he rounded the bay, crowded with tourists enjoying the warm evening.
The delicious smells of a variety of foods wafted over him. A few steps brought him closer to the restaurant where his ears picked up the strain of a festive polka.
What with the red cloths on the tables, the Swiss flag stirring in the gentle breeze and the chalet’s window boxes overflowing with flowers, he could almost believe he was in Europe.
The place was packed. A couple of waitresses dressed in their red uniforms moved in and out of the doorway to serve tables. But he was looking for one particular woman who, he grudgingly admitted, would be enticing if she wore sackcloth.
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