“You can drop me off in the parking lot,” she said, pointing to an underground garage. “It’ll be easier.”
He pulled in and Carly gave him a card to swipe.
“Do you want me to fill in for Hayden today?” he asked, the offer popping out before he thought about it. He didn’t really know what personal assistants did.
She blinked at him. “No. It’s fine. The work he’s doing isn’t urgent and I can answer the phone.”
“If your work phone rings as much as your cell does, you’ll never get anything done.” It was a foolish idea as he had his own work to do, but for some reason he had an urge to help her.
“Those were all calls forwarded from work.”
Evan frowned. “You forward your work calls to your cell on weekends?”
“I don’t like giving my cell number out. Occasionally people need to get in touch with me out of hours about events I’m attending, so I need to be able to be contacted.”
That was insane. “Get yourself a cell just for work then. Surely your purse is big enough for two phones.”
She shook her head. “I don’t take a purse to work. It gives men the wrong impression. All my clothes are made with pockets so I don’t need one.” She opened the car door. “Thanks for the lift.”
“Wait.” He wasn’t ready for her to go. He cupped her face with his hand and drew her closer, brushing his lips against hers.
She sighed and he deepened the kiss, feeling her reaction all the way through him.
A car beeped behind them and Evan drew back, glancing in the rear view mirror as Carly sat back in shock. The car drove around them and she ducked her head.
“Are you hiding?” he asked, not sure whether he should be offended.
“I can’t have my employees see me necking in the car.” She smoothed out her skirt and her jacket.
He chuckled, kind of pleased she was flustered. “Are you free for lunch next Friday?”
She checked her phone. “No. I can do Thursday, though.”
Evan was happy to change days. He’d tell Basil he’d be in on Thursday instead. “Great. I’ll bring lunch.”
She opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again. “That would be nice. See you then.” She got out of the car and walked to the elevator.
She was so fascinating and so frustrating.
And he wanted to know everything about her.
***
As Evan arrived home later that morning, his cell rang. It was Carmen.
“I have the plants for you. Would you like me to come and plant them?”
Carmen had come over to his place last week and been appalled at the state of his garden. She’d insisted on taking some cuttings from her garden and said she’d fill the space in no time. Evan had had no clue what that entailed, but had agreed. She seemed more than happy to do it, and he could get some more drawings of her.
He really wanted to crawl back into bed, but instead he said, “That would be great. Come over whenever it suits.” He hung up as McClane trotted out to greet him. Evan gave him a pat. “I hope you haven’t been terrorizing the birds while I’ve been gone.”
His dog panted happily. After he headed inside, Evan checked his cupboard to see what refreshments he could offer Carmen. The pickings were slim. It was time he went shopping.
He finished making a grocery list as a car pulled up outside. Carmen got out with one of the foster girls. He searched his memory . . . Teresa.
Carmen waved to him. “Teresa wanted to help me,” she called as she went around the back of the people mover and opened the trunk. Evan jogged down the steps to help and his eyes almost bugged out of his head when he saw what was in there. These were not a couple of cuttings, these were full-grown plants.
“Carmen you haven’t dug up your whole garden have you?”
She laughed. “Only a few things here and there.”
This was not going to be the short planting session he’d envisioned. This would take all morning. And he could hardly let them do all of the work. “What can I do to help?”
“Leave it to us.”
That wasn’t going to work. He reached in and grabbed a couple of the plants. “Where do you want them?”
***
He was right. It was after midday before they finished. The garden beds looked amazing, as if the plants had been there for years. Evan was hot, sweaty, and covered in dirt, but Carmen looked as if she’d spent the morning sipping iced tea on the veranda. He didn’t know how she did it. She’d worked far harder than he had, putting him to shame with her efforts. Teresa, on the other hand, was looking about as exhausted as he figured he did.
“Let me get some drinks,” Evan said, inviting them into the kitchen. He flicked on the air conditioning and poured some cold water. “Thank you so much,” he said, handing the women their glasses. He got out a box of cookies and offered it to them. Teresa took one, but Carmen declined.
“What do I have to do to make sure the plants survive?” he asked. He’d hate for all of them to die.
“Water them regularly until they are established,” said Carmen. “I’ve given you plants that like the Houston weather, so they should be all right.”
That was a relief.
When they’d finished their drinks, Carmen asked, “Where do you paint?”
“I have a studio. Do you want to see it?” They’d helped him today, so it was the least he could do.
“Yes, please.”
He led them into his studio and let them wander around. Carmen walked straight over to the canvases, but Teresa drifted to the drawings he had scattered over the table. His pencils were spread out everywhere and one notebook was open to a blank page. He recognized the longing in Teresa’s eyes. “Do you draw?” he asked, walking over to her.
She shook her head. “No. Not really.” Her eyes never left the pencils.
Evan remembered that feeling, that intense want. After he’d discovered his love of art, he’d begged his parents for some colored pencils. They’d told him he was wasting his time and they couldn’t afford it. He’d been so determined, he’d got himself a paper route so he could buy them himself. From then on, he never went anywhere without some kind of drawing implement and some paper.
“Take a seat,” he offered, passing Teresa the notebook. “Give it a try.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Sure you can. Carmen and I’ll just be talking about the paintings.” He smiled at her and walked over to Carmen who was watching them carefully.
“She is quiet, that one,” Carmen murmured. “You are kind to encourage her.”
It was hardly a kindness, but he didn’t say that. Instead, he said, “Do you like any, Carmen?” He gestured to the paintings, and braced himself, waiting for the criticism. He’d thought he’d moved past his parents’ rejection of his work. Carmen had been nothing but supportive so far, but it didn’t seem to matter.
“They are beautiful. You have an eye for this.”
He took a moment to absorb the praise, the tension leaving him.
“My Carolina bought one, did she not?”
“Yes.” He walked over to his photo album. He always took photos of his work before he sold them. Flicking through, he found the one Carly had bought and showed it to Carmen.
She nodded. “Home and serenity. Two things my baby does not get enough of.”
Evan was surprised by her astuteness.
Together they strolled around the room and returned to the table where Teresa was drawing. Evan looked at her picture – a sketch of him and Carmen – and surprise hit him in the chest. “That’s amazing.”
Carmen said something to the girl in Spanish and Teresa lowered her eyes modestly.
“You must have done some drawing back home,” said Evan.
She nodded.
He went to the cupboard and took out some new pencils and paper. “These are for you,” he said, handing her the items.
“No. No, I couldn’t.” She shook her head.
“I insist. You need to keep drawing.” He turned to Carmen. “She’s good enough to go the arts center for lessons.”
“I will make sure she does.”
“No,” Teresa insisted and spoke to Carmen in Spanish.
“She says it does not pay the bills and she can’t afford it.”
Anger welled up in him. That’s what he’d always been told. “It pays mine.” He put a hand over the girl’s hand. “These are a gift. I would like you to have them. I remember wanting to draw so much when I was younger than you.” Life wasn’t all about earning money. There had to be pleasure in it as well.
She nodded. “Gracias.”
“We should go,” Carmen announced. “I must be back for afternoon lessons. Zita will be finished.”
“Thanks for your help,” he said.
“Thank you for yours,” Carmen replied, nodding toward Teresa, who had the pencils and pad clutched against her chest.
Pleasure welled up inside him as he waved them off. He’d paid the gift he’d been given forward. Encouraging Teresa the way his primary school teacher had encouraged him.
His day couldn’t get better.
Chapter 9
By the end of the day, Carly had to concede that Evan had been right. Without Hayden there to answer her phone and field her calls, she’d got nothing done. If she hadn’t already had meetings booked, she would have been chained to her desk all day. She called Hayden to find out how he was.
“Hello?” The quiet, pathetic greeting was enough to tell Carly he wasn’t going to be at work tomorrow.
“How are you feeling, Hayden?”
“Like I could sleep for a hundred years. Thanks for my basket.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m sorry, Carly, I don’t think I’m going to be in this week. My friends who’ve had this have been laid low for a week.”
“That’s not a problem. I’ll get a temp in to answer phones. You concentrate on getting better.”
“Thanks. The temp agency number is in my contacts. Don’t forget there’s the gala ball on Friday night. You need to find another date.”
Carly shook her head. He was as sick as a dog and still organizing her, though she had forgotten about the ball. Hayden was her plus one for it, and she’d have to find someone else. “Just get better,” she said and hung up.
After finding the temp agency number, Carly called and explained what she wanted. Within minutes she had arranged someone to answer the phones for the rest of the week. She checked her schedule to see if there was anything else she needed them to do. Hayden was right. She did have the gala ball this Friday. It was raising money for medical research and she didn’t want to go alone. Maybe Evan would be willing to keep her company?
She called him.
“Hey, Carly.” His voice sent lovely shivers through her body.
“Hi. Are you busy on Friday night?”
“No.”
“Do you want to go to a gala ball with me?” She held her breath.
“Sure. What’s the deal?”
“It’s a black-tie event raising money for medical research. If you don’t have a tuxedo I can get one for you.” She had no idea how much his paintings made him and didn’t want him out of pocket for her event.
“I can manage,” he said dryly. “Shall I meet you at your place?”
“Yes. About six?”
“Looking forward to it.”
Carly hung up with a smile on her face.
***
The next day Carly was desperately missing Hayden. She hadn’t thought answering a telephone would have been such a difficult task. The temp the agency had sent her didn’t grasp the concept of putting a person on hold and checking whether she wanted to speak with them, or even checking her calendar to see if she was free. She’d spent just as much time going over the process with the bored twenty year old, as she would have doing the job herself.
She sent Hayden a box of chocolates to let him know how much she appreciated him.
Her cell phone rang late that afternoon and Carly debated answering it. She’d had as much as she could take from people wanting things from her. She checked the screen and sighed in relief.
“Mi niñita, Cómo estás?”
Carly smiled. “Hola, Mamá.”
“You sound tired. Are you getting enough sleep?”
“Yes, Mama. Hayden is away this week and the temp hasn’t been very good.”
“What is so difficult?”
“Nothing. She just needs to answer the phone.”
“Pfft. I can do that. Would you like me to come in?”
It was a testament to how bad the temp had been that Carly was actually considering it. She couldn’t afford another day of answering phones. Her mother would be more than capable, but she had her own work at Casa Flanagan. Plus, sometimes Carmen was a little abrupt with people. “You have the girls to teach.”
“Zita can manage without me for a couple of days. I’ll stay with you.”
“I won’t be around much, Mama. I have things scheduled every night.”
“Then I shall feed your fish.”
Carly glanced outside at the empty desk. The temp had said she had an appointment and had left an hour ago. She checked her calendar. The whole week was full of appointments. If Carly asked the agency for someone new there was no guarantee she’d be any better, and Carly couldn’t be around to supervise a new temp. Hoping she wasn’t making a mistake, she said, “It would be great if you could come in, Mama.”
“Bueno. What time do I start?”
“Nine o’clock is fine.” She wasn’t entirely convinced she was making the right decision, but she was desperate.
“OK. Now, I must tell you about Evan.”
Carly frowned. “What about him?”
“He is a gem. He gave Teresa some pencils and she has been drawing ever since. She is far happier than she was.”
Her mother had been worried about her newest foster child. She hadn’t opened up about why she’d left El Salvador and they didn’t know what she’d endured.
“When did he do that?” He hadn’t mentioned it to her.
“Monday. After we gardened.”
She’d forgotten her mother had offered to help Evan in his garden. “That’s nice.”
“Yes. He is a nice boy.”
Carly saw where this was heading. There’d be the not-so-subtle hint that she should date him. “I know. He’s coming to a ball with me on Friday.”
There was a stunned silence, and then, “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She grinned at the dial tone. She’d beaten her mother to the punch. She finished her work, feeling much better about the coming days.
***
Carmen arrived at Comunidad at precisely nine o’clock carrying a bag full of food, which she put in Carly’s fridge. Carly didn’t comment, instead she explained the phone system to her mother, pointed out the instructions Hayden had written, and showed her her calendar.
“Madre mía! That is a lot of appointments.”
“It is,” Carly agreed. “If someone calls and I’m in a meeting, take a message. If I’m not in a meeting, get their details, put them on hold, and then ask me if I can take their call.”
Her mother nodded.
“Any questions?”
“No.” Unperturbed, her mother got out a book and started reading.
Carly crossed her fingers, hoping it would work.
***
Carly had meetings all morning and hadn’t heard a peep from Carmen. On her way into her office, she stopped at her mother’s desk. “How’s it going?”
“Bien. Here are your messages.” She handed her a bunch of papers. “Your lunch is on your desk as your midday appointment canceled.”
“Thanks, Mama.”
“De nada. Are you coming to the Day of the Dead celebrations?”
Carly blinked at the change of subject. “Of course.” It was this weekend.
“I didn’t
see it in your calendar.”
“It’s blocked out, I just haven’t written what it’s for.”
Carmen checked and nodded. “Good. Oh, I almost forgot. Lisa wants an appointment with you, but you have no free spots until Friday.”
“Check if she’s free now. I have time.”
“No. You will eat your lunch in peace.”
“Mama—” Carly began.
“No. You need a break.”
She let out a long quiet breath. Her mother was trying to take care of her. She headed into her office and picked up the phone. “Lisa, I’ve had a cancellation if you want to come to my office.”
Her mother wasn’t the boss here.
By the end of the day Carly was feeling a lot better about her mother working for her. There had been no other problems and all the phone calls had been handled professionally.
“Are you going home before your dinner?” Carmen asked, standing at the door to her office.
“No, Mama. I brought a change of clothes. I’ve told Harold you’re coming, and he’ll let you into my apartment. You might need to pick up some dinner on the way home. There’s not a lot in the fridge.”
Her mother nodded.
Carly felt bad about leaving her alone in her apartment, but it was better than her having to battle the traffic in and out of town for three days.
All in all, it was working out.
***
Evan couldn’t wait to see Carly on Thursday. Yesterday he’d had the most amazing phone call, and he was desperate to share the news with her.
A New York gallery wanted to exhibit his art.
Someone had heard about the little exhibition in Houston, had seen his work and wanted to know if he had more. Evan calculated that he’d need to paint a few more works to have enough for the exhibition. This could really be his big break.
The only problem was, the work he was doing for Basil was going to eat into the time he had to complete the new paintings. Though the project was already a bit ahead of schedule and Basil continued to be pleased with what he’d done so far.
Change of Heart (The Flanagan Sisters, #2) Page 10
