Where the Heart May Lead: A Clean Romance (Harlequin LP Heartwarming)

by Elizabeth Mowers

  Paige clenched her jaw.

  “Mara, I don’t really feel comfortable flying by the seat of my pants. If you can give me just a half hour to get back to my motel and grab my portfolio, I have a brief but very informative presentation prepared.”

  “Look, sweetie, I’m not sure I can keep him longer than fifteen minutes. Something came up, and he’s driving to Detroit this morning.” The man’s voice on the other end grumbled something more at Mara, making her snap at him in reply. The stress in Mara’s voice had Paige cringing. “I’ll leave it up to you. If you can make it—great. Otherwise, I don’t know when he’ll next be available.”

  Paige hung up and glanced back down the path where the crushed gravel led toward her motel. Even if she sprouted wings and flew to collect her portfolio, it would take at least a half hour to just get to the motel.

  She needed to wrap up her visit and get back to her aunt and uncle. Landing this job might not be her one and only chance at meeting Lucy, but it was the most immediate opportunity, and it at least gave her a connection with Lucy’s parents if Uncle Craig’s health forced her to return home quickly. Ready or not, she had to take it.

  Shoving her phone in her jacket pocket, she pedaled hard and fast, picturing the tiny, fresh-faced baby she’d placed in Dr. Bob’s arms all those years ago.

  Paige locked her bicycle in the rack and hurried to the sports shop. The door was locked as the shop didn’t open for business for over an hour. She rapped loudly on the glass and paced along the sidewalk in front of it. How on earth would she reduce her presentation down to a minute? It was already short and snappy and most importantly—it worked. Not normally one to get nervous, Paige found herself shaking out her hands and forcing several deep breaths. After almost a minute, she cupped her hands around her face and pressed her forehead to the glass front door, searching for some sign of life amid the darkened merchandise.

  Finally, she spotted a tall figure toward the back of the store and rapped loudly again. The figure turned, but after taking a few steps in her direction, stopped short and stared. She felt certain it was a man due to his sheer height and broad build, but his face was darkened. Whoever he was, he didn’t look too anxious to let her in. If it was Mr. Selby, it seemed she was already in big trouble.

  “I’m not a customer, Mr. Selby,” she muttered to herself, rapping on the door again. “I was invited.” The figure slowly made a move, prompting her to whisper encouragements as he did. “Come on...come on...open the door. You’re slower than dripping molasses, bub. Yep, you can do it. I’ve only aged a thousand years.”

  Finally, a figure sprinted past him to the front door. Within seconds, Mara’s bright face appeared from the shadows.

  “Paige, you made it!” she said, unlocking the door and swinging it open. “I hope you weren’t waiting long. I told Charlie to keep an eye out for you while I started some things in the back. Come on in, and I’ll introduce you.”

  Mara strode briskly in front of Paige, who had suddenly downshifted into a dripping molasses pace of her own.

  Mara had already made her way halfway across the sales floor to the back office, passing the tall, shadowy figure along the way. Paige half hoped that she had misunderstood Mara, inserting Charlie’s name in her head over whatever real name Mara had spoken. The obsessive loop of the handsome tour guide that had played in her head all night and morning had obviously messed with her, she thought. But as she drew closer into the darkened room, she realized she hadn’t made any sort of mistake. The whites of Charlie’s bold brown eyes caught in the light pooling from the back office. And they were locked on her.

  She hesitated in front of him. She owed him something. Some word of acknowledgment that she was happy to see him, but her surprise overwhelmed her. She could barely manage a half-hearted grin under such confusing circumstances.

  “What...what are you doing here?” she said. Charlie slung his hands into the front pockets of perfectly pressed gray trousers and tipped his head casually to the side.

  “What am I doing here?”

  His face was most likely a mirror image of her own, she thought. Eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly agape, breath caught. She made a mental note to force her mouth shut. Aunt Joan would warn her she would catch flies if it fell open any further, but under the circumstances, she couldn’t help it. The last person she expected to see today was Charlie, and by his surprise, she knew he felt the same way.

  “Come on, you two!” Mara called from the back office. “This meeting isn’t going to run itself!”

  Paige’s eyes shifted from the back office doorway to Charlie. “Are you coming in here too?”

  “That was the plan, yes.”

  “To listen to my presentation?”

  “Yep.”

  Paige’s chest constricted as a wince creased her face. “Please don’t tell me that you’re the one who woke up in a foul mood this morning.”

  “What?” Charlie frowned, making a study of her expression. When she didn’t elaborate, he motioned for her to follow Mara. “After you, Ms. Cartman.”

  Paige could feel a red rash beginning to prickle her skin, working its way from her chest, up her neck and over her throat. It had happened a few times during her youth, during times of extreme stress, but over the years living with her aunt and uncle, it had become a very rare occurrence. The heat would usually stop short of her face, only ripening her cheeks to the blush of a Pink Lady apple, but her neck would turn a hot fiery red. As much as she willed it away, it always lingered at the worst moments, and she knew this situation couldn’t be any more deserving.

  Mara motioned for Paige to sit on the opposite side of her desk. “Paige, you can take the big chair over here. Make yourself comfortable.”

  “It’s Ms. Cartman,” Charlie said as he moved slowly past her to lean back against the desk. Paige’s eyes flashed. Mara would realize she and Charlie had met before, and when she realized that, she’d want to know where they met and then she’d want to know—

  “What was that?” Mara said as she shifted a pile of papers out of the way.

  Paige cleared her throat. “Feel free to call me Paige. There’s no reason for formalities.”

  Mara smiled up from her stack of papers. “I feel the same. And don’t worry about having any helmet hair. You look great.”

  “I don’t wear a helmet,” she mumbled.

  “What? Why not?” Charlie’s voice cut through the small space like a submarine commander. Mara cocked her head to scold him as Paige replied.

  “I don’t like the feel of it.”

  “Would you rather have the feel of your head cracking open like an egg all over the sidewalk?”

  Paige’s eyes rounded as Charlie’s had darkened. For a man so jovial and warm the night before, she was not at all prepared for his hostility.

  “Babe, that’s disgusting,” Mara said, crumpling up a wad of paper and throwing it at him. He didn’t flinch. Paige shook her head. She had come to Roseley to check in on Lucy and as of seven o’clock last night, might have made the little girl’s life even worse by dating her father. “What has gotten into you, Charlie? You’re supposed to make Paige feel at ease. You’re usually so great at that.”

  “I’m not on my game today, Mar.” He smiled weakly at Paige, but his eyes remained unchanged, as if he was hollow inside.

  “Don’t mind him, Paige. He’s been acting strange all morning. Was there a full moon I didn’t know about?”

  Paige smiled politely even if she was smiling at a cheating, no good, big scamming jerk face. She’d make the pitch as quickly as she could out of respect for Mara, but as soon as she was alone with Mr. Selby, she’d tongue-lash the cad across Roseley and back again. This, this, was who Dr. Hathaway had entrusted Lucy to?

  “Charlie is excellent at hospitality,” Mara continued. “I’ve been asking him for a few years now to work here with
me and make this shop a family business.”

  Paige’s eyes shifted between the two of them. “I’m still unclear what sort of business I’m supposed to write copy for...that is, if you like my pitch.”

  Charlie sat on the edge of the desk. “As best as I can explain it, it’s a sports marketing start-up. Promoting events—”

  “Direct to consumer?”

  Mara nodded. “They’d like to branch out, though. If they could get hired on with a few local sports teams to handle all their event marketing, maybe they could eventually take on professional sports teams. Might as well shoot for the moon.”

  Paige nodded in turn. “The best advertising sells the product without drawing attention to itself. You probably got into sports marketing because it’s something you’ve always loved whether by playing or watching. Sporting events are about passion, excitement, drive. Fans feed on the camaraderie of cheering with others and rooting for the hometown team. It’s a full-on experience. Your marketing strategy capitalizes on this so you should bring that kind of excitement when you’re trying to bring on a new team as your client. Where are you in the start-up? Are you actively trying to book sports clients now? Athletes? Arenas?”

  Charlie frowned at her, but Mara was quick to respond.

  “He and his partners want to start targeting and representing sports teams, exclusively. He’s heading out today for a pitch meeting with a minor league baseball team.”

  Paige nodded, processing what that meant. “To convince a team to sign with you is to convince them that you have their best interests at heart—always. You must convince them that no one else can share their story to the mass market the way you can. It’s about building a relationship within the first few minutes. When they look at you—”

  Paige’s voice trailed off as Charlie’s eyes locked on hers. What was he taking from her words? More importantly, what on earth was she trying to say? From the first moment he’d talked to her in front of the bike shop, she’d felt a connection to him unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. If only...

  “When they meet you,” she continued and cleared her throat, “they have to feel like they’ve found the solution to all their problems. You must make them feel like the long-lost member of an amazing family. I can help you do that.”

  Paige placed her hands on her hips in a superhero pose. She usually had more time to paint a story, but as Charlie and Mara caught each other’s eye, she knew she’d left the right impression. She didn’t want to work for Charlie now that she knew he would sneak behind Mara’s back with another woman, but she desperately wanted to see Lucy. She had to see Lucy, no matter what the cost.

  Mara’s face finally broke into a wide smile.

  “I think that’s exactly what we were looking for, Paige,” she said. “Now take a few deep breaths and say that when Peter gets here.”

  “Peter?”

  “My husband.”

  Paige’s hands slipped off her hips. “Your husband?”

  “I don’t know where that man is. He said he was on a tight deadline and yet, once again, here I am waiting on him.” Mara slipped around Paige and through a door. “Peter, for real? Paige is waiting.”

  Paige side-glanced at Charlie, who flinched his eyebrows upward.

  “So, if you’re not...”

  “Mara’s husband? I realized you thought that about ten seconds into your pitch. Thanks for assuming the worst of me.”

  “I did think... I mean...it was a misunderstanding...”

  “But still not the reason you ducked out on me last night.”

  Mara darted back into the office with her husband hot on her heels.

  “Thanks so much for waiting, Paige,” Peter said, crossing the floor to shake her hand. With brown hair peppering to gray and muted blue eyes, his demeanor conveyed the gentleness and patience of a yoga guru. “My business partner was supposed to present at a convention in Detroit tomorrow, and I learned last night that he came down with meningitis. Unfortunately, I’m off last minute to fill in.”

  “Traveling puts Peter in a bad mood,” Mara said. “And not waking me up to tell me your change of plans puts me in a bad mood.”

  “What would you have done last night that you couldn’t do this morning?”

  “I would have woken Lucy up earlier so she could spend a few extra minutes with you. You’re going to be gone for several days.”

  Paige brought a hand to her mouth to mask an audible gasp. Mara and Peter were too caught up in their own soap opera to notice, but Charlie’s slightly furrowed brow told her he’d noticed. Quickly, she balled her hand to a fist and forced a cough. Their daughter was Lucy, but was it her Lucy? Had they really kept her birth name?

  “Would you like a drink of water?” Charlie asked.

  “Water?” Mara said, surfacing from her squabble with Peter. “I can grab you one, Paige.”

  “No, thank you. Let me get on with it. I’m so excited to talk about what I can do for your business, Peter.”

  “You know what,” Peter said, holding up a hand. “Before you launch into anything, this was all Mara’s idea. Truth be told, Paige, I’m not in the right frame of mind to listen to a pitch. Even if you completely sell me on the idea, which I’m sure you could, I can’t decide right now. I’m sorry for wasting your time, but maybe I can better consider this next week.”

  “Peter,” Mara said, pressing her fingers to either side of her temples. “You always do this.”

  “Always do what?”

  “This.”

  “I apologized to Paige, but I can’t do this right now. I have to leave, and you’re obsessed with hiring a copywriter.”

  “You are. It was your idea. I’m just trying to help.”

  Paige cringed as Mara and Peter lobbed accusations back and forth at each other like champion tennis players. This was who had been raising Lucy for the last ten years?

  It was all falling apart: the dream life for Lucy she’d carefully constructed in her mind to ease the pain of letting that little baby go. The heat that had crept up her throat now turned to a surge, fueling her desire to outshout Mara and Peter. If she wanted to preserve any chance of seeing Lucy, she had to get out of here before she did just that.

  “Thank you for your time, but I should go.” Hurrying around the desk, she didn’t wait for Mara or Peter to reply. Wanting to leave the door open for further contact, at a time when her heart wasn’t pumping her into an early grave, she called over her shoulder, “I’ll be in touch!”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHARLIE STILLWATER STILL couldn’t put his finger on what had gone wrong last night. He’d spent the entire evening reliving every minute of his date with Paige Cartman, calculating the width of her smile and how her eyes crinkled in delight when he made a joke. If she hadn’t been enjoying herself, he was sure he would have picked up on it sooner than the moment she had practically sprinted out of the restaurant.

  If there was one thing he knew, it was how to read people. He prided himself on the fact that it was one of his greatest strengths. Well, it had been one of his greatest strengths until Crystal had pulled one over on him, and Freckles had thrown him for a loop. Sadly, he probably needed to reexamine his greatest strengths.

  He had eliminated the likely possibilities of what could have happened with Freckles. If she had gotten sick or overheated, she would have wanted to leave quickly, but she wouldn’t have made a point to completely sever all future contact. Perhaps she had a boyfriend or husband back home and had wandered too far down the rabbit hole with him, a stab of guilt finally hitting during a quiet moment in the bathroom. There was also the possibility that she didn’t really like him, but if that was the case, she was a brilliant actress. She had no motive for leading him on—unless she was making a fool of him for sport. But the way she spoke of her uncle and aunt didn’t lead him to believe she had no empathy for o
thers. The depth of her heart was one of her most endearing qualities, which he had concluded after only a few minutes into dinner.

  Charlie had awakened that morning still thinking about Paige when Mara had called, asking if he could come in early for his first day at the sports shop. He had planned to get an early bike ride in and blow off his skunky mood, but instead agreed to arrive early. Mara could be a little tightly strung, but he could sense she needed him.

  He had had that sense for a while. It was one of the reasons that had persuaded him to move back to Roseley. If Mara and Peter were struggling through a rocky phase in their marriage, Mara would need family support, and if he were honest, he needed a little of his own. Living with Mara and her family until he could sort out a place of his own certainly took some adjustment, but he suspected she was glad to have him around, if only for moral support.

  He had just arrived and wandered out onto the sales floor to give Mara and Peter some privacy to bicker, when he thought he’d heard someone rapping on the front door. Mara had briefly mentioned on the phone that a copywriter was stopping in, but he had assumed it was during business hours.

  Through the dimly lit front of the store, he squinted at the figure standing on the other side of the glass in the sunlight. Of all the people he had wished to see at that moment, he had had to blink several times to convince himself she was real.

  Freckles.

  It made sense. She was a writer, although he had at first pictured her as more of a novelist, hibernating in a woodsy cabin and looking for inspiration from the whispering of gently swaying tree branches. And to be honest, he wasn’t exactly sure what a copywriter did. Was she supposed to be some sort of ad man?

  She moved quickly, he thought, as Mara welcomed her through the front door. For only just arriving to Roseley, she’d managed to get a job interview with Peter. She’d also managed to get dinner from a hopeless romantic who had been instantly smitten by those kissable freckles and jungle-green eyes.