The Other Woman

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The Other Woman Page 5

by Brenda Novak


  He gazed down the ribbon of street that split the small town in half. Would it have made a difference if he’d brought Laurel to a place such as this?

  The question crept unbidden into his consciousness but, with some effort, he shoved it out of his mind. Second-guessing wouldn’t help. There was nothing more he could have done. And now he had no choice except to square his shoulders and face each new day as it came.

  He shifted his attention to the newspaper and, slowly, the ache subsided. He found no stories of rape or murder. No missing persons. Nothing violent or ugly. The headline read Crab Feed Raises $10,000 for Schools. He couldn’t call the accompanying article riveting, but it was comforting to know that a crab feed could still be front-page news.

  Laurel would’ve liked that….

  Annoyed with himself, he made another attempt to control his thoughts by moving to the article directly below the one he’d already read.

  City Council Bucks Rodeo Improvements

  Is it time to improve the rodeo grounds? According to Councilwoman Foley, it is. But with Mayor Wells out of town, the council voted 3–2 last week against appropriating the necessary funds. Fortunately, the opportunity to make your opinion heard hasn’t been lost. The mayor is back and calling for another vote. If you’d like to see…

  The beep of a horn brought up Carter’s head. Liz had arrived. At last.

  Tucking the paper under his arm, he stood and waited for her to park.

  Her keys rattled as she slipped them into her pocket and hurried over. Dressed in a red T-shirt, blue denim shorts, tennis shoes and a gray zip-up sweatshirt to ward off the morning chill, she’d pulled her long blond hair into a ponytail. She hadn’t bothered with makeup, but then she didn’t need any. Large hazel eyes watched him from above a narrow, well-defined nose and high cheekbones. As much as he hated to acknowledge it, she possessed a delicate sort of beauty. Like Laurel’s. But her mouth was all her own. Too expressive for a woman who looked so reserved and sophisticated, it added an accessible human touch to a face that, without it, might have almost appeared too perfect—more like white marble than flesh and bone.

  “Have you been waiting long?” she asked as she approached him.

  He sent her a pointed glance. “Since six.”

  “Right. You were on time. Of course.” She cleared her throat and shifted a roll of blueprints from one arm to the other. “Sorry about that. I had trouble rousing Keith’s mother. She’d forgotten she agreed to get the kids off to school for me.”

  “No problem.” Trailing her to the shop, he waited as she unlocked the door. Then he followed her inside to find the gutted remains of a retail establishment, which he knew from the conversation the night before, had previously been a barbershop. He eyed the well-worn floor, the freshly patched wall, the wheelbarrow in the corner. A door at the back led to what appeared to be another room. “Storage?” he asked, waving toward it.

  “It used to be a small apartment, which the previous owner leased out. When we’re done it’ll be my kitchen and pantry.”

  He rubbed his chin. “So we’re starting from scratch.”

  “Basically.”

  “What’s the goal here? With the improvements, I mean?”

  She unrolled her plans on the lone display case and let Carter take a look. “Have you ever seen the movie Chocolat?”

  “Never heard of it.”

  She stared at him. “It was nominated for several Academy Awards, including best picture.”

  He was busy already noting what would have to be done, trying to estimate how long the work might take him. “When?”

  “I don’t know exactly. Several years ago.”

  The biggest part of the job would be the kitchen. The showroom needed little more than flooring and paint and the placement of some additional display cases and shelving. “Does this movie have any karate fights?”

  “No.”

  He glanced up at her. “Explosions?”

  She scowled. “It’s not that kind of movie.”

  “Then I probably didn’t waste my money on it,” he said, a shrug in his voice.

  He was teasing, but if she understood that she didn’t crack a smile. “Your loss,” she said, sounding slightly offended. “It’s fabulous. Almost as good as the book.”

  Having studied the plans, Carter crossed the floor to make sure Keith’s patched wall was dry enough to paint. “I’m guessing there’s a tie-in?”

  She put down her purse on top of the plans, to keep the paper from rolling back into a scroll. “There is. I’m trying to re-create the atmosphere of the shop in that movie.”

  “Which was a choco-later-ie?”

  “That was a poor attempt even for a Yankee,” she said, making a face. “It’s pronounced chocolaterie. The movie is set in a provincial French town.”

  He’d slaughtered the word on purpose, but he didn’t bother to point that out. “Just like this small western one, huh?”

  At last she seemed to realize he was baiting her. Her mouth twitched as if she might smile, but she frowned instead. “I can only do so much. Anyway, Vianne, who owns the chocolate shop in the movie, has traveled widely and brings a bit of her mother’s Mayan heritage along with her. I want to decorate this shop the same way.”

  “I’m not familiar with Mayan decor,” he said, facing her.

  “Think decadent and sensually appealing, with a South American flavor.”

  Carter hadn’t found anything sensually appealing in a long time, regardless of the “flavor,” but he pretended otherwise. “It’s starting to sound good.”

  Too caught up in her vision to be interrupted, she ignored him. “You see, Vianne is serving more than chocolate to the locals—”

  “And now it’s getting even better.”

  She spread her hands in exasperation. “Would you quit?”

  Satisfied he’d already made himself look like enough of an ass, he became more serious. “Okay, so what’s she serving?”

  “Love, acceptance, change—a rebirth. I find the whole concept incredibly…uplifting.”

  As much as he’d decided he wouldn’t let himself like Liz—nor let her like him—he couldn’t poke fun at that. Her sincere words seemed to echo around the hollow space inside him, making him crave those very things.

  “Are you actually making the chocolate?”

  “No, Vianne crushed cocoa beans and made her own chocolate. But there’s no need for me to do the same. Generally, only really large companies do that. I buy my chocolate from San Francisco.”

  “Ghirardelli?”

  “No, Guittard. For some of my truffles, I also incorporate European chocolate to produce my own unique flavor.”

  “So they ship it to you from California?”

  “Exactly. It comes in boxes of five ten-pound bars, which I temper and then use to create various decadent candies.”

  “Temper?”

  “Melt in a particular way, to keep it shiny and smooth.”

  “What kind of candies?”

  “Candies made with pretzels, Oreos, marshmallows…Strawberries, bananas and raisins dipped in chocolate. I also make fudge and truffles, even cakes and frosted brownies. But like Vianne, my signature is going to be rich hot chocolate.”

  The passion and excitement in her voice again summoned memories of Laurel. Turning away, Carter pretended to examine the walls, making note of the nicks and gouges that remained. “We should really patch a few more spots.”

  “Probably,” she said. “Old LeRoy wasn’t much for maintenance or housekeeping. The dirt and grime in this place was unbelievable when I got here.”

  No longer interested in conversation, Carter let her comment go. “Do you have the supplies we’ll need?”

  Her eyebrows inched up a notch at his brisk tone, but she responded at once to the question. “I should. Keith brought over a lot of stuff last night. It’s all in the back room. If we need anything else, there’s always the hardware store down the street. And the good news is t
hat we finally have a sink that works, which should help with rinsing out trays and so forth. I just had the plumber install it yesterday.”

  Carter glanced in the direction Liz had pointed. The bathroom door was only partially open. He couldn’t see the sink well—but it didn’t look right. Walking over to the doorway, he poked his head inside. “Did you say he already installed it or he’s going to?”

  Liz came up behind him. She didn’t answer; she didn’t need to. The shock on her face, when she saw that the sink had been torn from the wall, said everything.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LIZ STOOD AT THE BACK of the hardware store, trying to keep her voice low enough that Keith’s boss, Ollie Weston, wouldn’t hear them arguing.

  “It had to be you,” she said vehemently.

  Keith stepped closer, looming over her. His anger and indignation etched a deep V between his eyebrows and almost made Liz retract the accusation. He didn’t look guilty. But he’d been the last one to leave her shop the night before. Who else would have had the time or opportunity to cause the damage she’d found?

  “Why would I do that?” he demanded, his voice rising. “I spent three hours there last night trying to help you!”

  Ollie glanced at them from the cash register in front, and Liz felt her cheeks grow warm. When she’d first come to Dundee, she’d caused a huge scandal simply by virtue of being the Other Woman. Because Reenie had grown up here and was a popular figure, folks had felt protective of her, and they’d whispered about Liz, even stared at her, as though she’d purposely destroyed Reenie’s marriage.

  A private person to begin with, Liz didn’t want to draw attention to herself now that she was feeling comfortable in this place. “Be quiet, will you?” she said.

  “You’re accusing me of something I didn’t do,” Keith snapped.

  “Who else could it have been?”

  “Anyone!” He threw up his hands. “Christopher was playing with the key you gave me and lost it. I couldn’t lock up last night.”

  “What? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t think it was a big deal. The place isn’t even fixed up yet.”

  Again, Ollie angled his head to see if he could hear what was going on, but Liz turned her back to him. “I paid a small fortune for all the supplies that are lying on that floor,” she said in a half whisper.

  “So? This is Dundee. Who’s going to steal them?”

  “I grew up in L.A., where people lock their businesses.”

  He straightened a sack of fertilizer that had fallen from the shelf. “You’ve been here for a year and a half, Liz. You know what it’s like. The worst crime we ever see is drunk-and-disorderly. Why would I worry about not being able to lock the door? Especially the back one?”

  Liz tucked the hair that was falling from her ponytail behind her ears. If Keith hadn’t caused the damage at her shop, was it some sort of hate crime? Vengeance from someone who blamed her for wrecking Reenie’s first marriage?

  She couldn’t imagine anyone holding a grudge over that. Especially since she hadn’t done it intentionally and Reenie was so obviously in love with Isaac. Watching him and Reenie for two seconds revealed how happy they were together. The only people who weren’t pleased about their relationship were Keith and his family….

  Narrowing her eyes, Liz stabbed a finger into Keith’s chest. “Your brothers would never do this, would they?”

  “My brothers? Cal lives in Boise, for crying out loud. Do you think he’d drive up here just to wreck your sink? And Luke’s still in Texas. He’s staying at Baylor for summer term.”

  “What about your father?”

  Keith gave the fertilizer a kick because it had tipped again. “Come off it, Liz.”

  “Your folks have never liked me, Keith. Even now that they help out with the kids, they barely speak to me.”

  “They’re still struggling with what’s happened. You can’t blame them for that.”

  No, she couldn’t. What had happened was entirely Keith’s fault. Which was one of the reasons she could never reconcile with him. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t completely forgive him for the devastation he’d wrought in her life. And she couldn’t imagine trying to belong to a family that resented her as much as Frank, Georgia, Cal and Luke did. She was the physical embodiment of the disappointment and embarrassment they’d all suffered over Keith’s deception.

  “Are they struggling so much that they’d try and make me fail?” she asked.

  His jaw dropped as if he couldn’t believe she’d even suggest it. “Of course not. They’re better people than that.”

  Liz wanted to think so. But she wasn’t entirely convinced. Someone had torn the sink from the wall.

  “Maybe it was Mary Thornton,” he said.

  Liz bit her lip. She and Mary had exchanged words, but…“She wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Why not? You know she’s upset that you’re opening a chocolate shop right next to her candy store.”

  “When I leased the space, she wasn’t selling candy. She had a card-and-gift shop!”

  “That’s my point. She’s green with envy. Grant Nibley did that big write-up on you in the paper and how you’re basing your shop on the movie and all that, so she copied you, and still her shop didn’t make the paper.”

  “At least her store is open.”

  “But not doing particularly well, from all indications.”

  Pressing her fingers to her forehead in an attempt to ease the headache pounding behind her eyes, Liz sighed. “She’s just disappointed that she didn’t think of a chocolate shop.”

  “I agree. She feels you’ve outdone her, and yet she has as much riding on her business as you do on yours. She quit her job at Slinkerhoff’s law office to make this big career change. She’s a single mother. Her ex-husband has been a total flake—”

  Liz didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t feel sorry for Mary. Maybe Mary’s ex-husband paid his child support in fits and starts and rarely came around, but Mary had it better than she liked to portray. “Are you kidding me? How stressed can she be when she’s still living with her parents? When they’re helping her raise her son and filling in with anything else she needs? It’s their money behind that shop, not hers.”

  “No one our age likes accepting help,” Keith said. Liz knew his parents had had to come to his rescue a time or two during the past eighteen months. Keith hated needing help. But that didn’t mean Mary Thornton felt the same. She used her parents.

  “So why doesn’t she move out? Make it on her own?” Liz asked. “Like the rest of us?”

  Because of her stepmother, Liz had run away from home at seventeen and had never returned. She’d graduated from high school while living with a girlfriend, spending most her weekends hanging out with Isaac at college.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m just saying that if you’re having trouble at the shop, Mary could be behind it.”

  Liz stared at him. Was her neighbor really trying to cause trouble?

  “Listen, I’ll pay the plumber to reinstall the sink, okay?” Keith said. “Then maybe you won’t think I caused the damage.”

  Liz didn’t want him to pay the plumber. Because of what Dave had suggested earlier, Liz had accused Keith without any real proof, and now she felt terrible. “Thanks anyway, but…I’ll take care of it.”

  She started out of the store, but Keith caught her arm. “Liz.”

  “What?” she asked as she turned.

  “You believe me, don’t you?”

  She noted his earnest expression. “I believe you. I’m just scared,” she admitted. She was putting everything she had into the shop—all her money, her hopes, her dreams.

  “It’ll be okay,” he promised.

  There was a time when Keith’s words would have encouraged her. But her trust in him had been destroyed when Isaac had revealed his infidelity.

  She nodded, but he still held her arm. “There’s something e
lse,” he said.

  “What?”

  “When you first came in here, I thought…Well, since you haven’t mentioned it, I’m guessing you don’t know.”

  The seriousness of his tone made her leery. “What?” she repeated.

  “Your father’s in town.”

  “No!” The word came out far too loudly. Ollie frowned at the two of them, but Keith ignored his employer.

  “Yes. I ran into him at the gas station on my way to work. He looked a bit rumpled around the edges, as though he’d driven all night, but it was definitely the man I’ve seen in your childhood scrapbooks. I spoke with him briefly and tried calling you afterward, but no one answered.”

  “I was at the shop,” she said numbly.

  “I went by there.”

  “Then I must’ve been at your parents’ house, dropping off the kids.”

  “I figured you were in transit. And since you don’t have a cell phone…”

  Cellular coverage had improved to the point where people in Dundee could now get service. But local reception wasn’t the best, and Liz couldn’t afford it. Keith didn’t have a cell phone, either. Since he’d left Softscape, they’d both been forced to tighten their budgets.

  She blinked, wondering how she could even be thinking about cell phones.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath, trying to dispel the shock. “What does he want?”

  “You haven’t talked to him recently?”

  She shook her head. The past two Christmases, she’d sent her father a card containing a few photos of the kids. In more than ten years, that was the extent of their contact.

  “That would explain why he didn’t know we were divorced.” A muscle flexed in Keith’s cheek. “It was pretty damned embarrassing.”

  “Embarrassing?”

  Regret filled his eyes. “Right before we got married, I called to see if he’d meet us in Vegas. He gave me some flimsy excuse, which made me mad, so I told him not to bother. I said you didn’t need a bastard like him, that I’d take care of you.” An uncomfortable-looking shrug followed this admission. Keith didn’t spell it out, but Liz knew what he was thinking. When he’d spoken to her father, he’d already been married to Reenie. It had only been a matter of time before he’d broken both their hearts.

 

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