It was early evening and her mother sat where she always did, on the sofa, in front of the TV. There was an open magazine on her lap, although her attention was on the reality TV show playing on the screen. Because it wasn’t as if Amber ever did anything in the evening. Not paying bills or laundry or cleaning or anything. No, she relaxed from her hard day. That was what she said. She needed to relax. Who cared that her daughter was working full-time at CK and weekends at the wineries and babysitting three or four evenings a week? Nope, Amber didn’t worry about that at all.
“Mom, I need to talk to you,” Heather said as she muted the television.
Her mother glared at her. “I was watching that. What can’t wait until the commercials?”
Heather sat across from her. “I just got the cable bill.”
Her mother looked blank. “So?”
“It’s a hundred dollars more than usual. A hundred dollars, all in pay-per-view movies. How many did you watch?”
Her mother shifted in her seat. “It wasn’t me.”
“Of course it was you. I didn’t do it. I’m working all the time.”
“Well, what did you expect? I was on disability. I was injured. I had to do something.” Tears filled her eyes. “I was in so much pain. I can’t believe you begrudge me some small comfort.”
“Mom, we have four hundred channels on our TV. We have all the premium ones because you insist that we have them. You couldn’t find movies to watch there? It’s a hundred dollars. I don’t have an extra hundred dollars. First the car and now this? I can’t do it.”
“You’re bringing up the car? Because you want me to walk everywhere? You want me to suffer, don’t you? You like it when I’m in pain and trapped in this house with nothing.”
Heather remembered when she’d been nearly eight and her mother had met a man. George had been funny and sweet and an all-around good guy. More important to her, he’d been excited about being a stepdad. He’d wanted to do things with her like take her horseback riding and once they went fishing. George didn’t talk much, but he’d been a warm and comforting presence in their lives.
But it hadn’t lasted. As soon as Amber had gotten married, she’d quit her job. She’d stayed home doing who knew what. George had been working and Heather had been at school. Amber hadn’t taken care of the house or cooked meals. From the fights Heather had overheard, he’d complained that he hadn’t married her to take care of her while she did nothing. She’d said he was unreasonable and mean. The relationship had spiraled downhill from there and a year after their wedding, George was gone.
Heather thought of him now and hoped he was happy, wherever he was. Amber had only complained about him after he’d left, but Heather had missed him. Now she looked at her mother and knew nothing had changed. Her mother would never take responsibility for anything because she believed she was owed everything. That wasn’t news. The problem was Heather couldn’t help believing she had to take care of her. That without her, Amber wouldn’t make it.
The frustration of that trap and the knowledge that she had no idea how to break free made her less cautious than usual.
“There is an entire ocean between wanting you to suffer and asking that you respect the fact that I pay for everything in this house. All of it falls on me. I’m twenty, Mom, and I’ve been supporting us since I was sixteen years old.”
She realized it didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to win the fight. “I don’t have the money,” she said wearily. “I don’t have any savings. Not anymore.”
“You keep throwing that in my face.”
“Then why didn’t you contribute any? What about your thousand dollars, that you still have, by the way.”
“Fine,” Amber snapped, walking over to her purse and pulling out her wallet. “You want my money? Take it.” She threw two twenty dollar bills on the floor. “Maybe we should start keeping track of the food I eat. I had butter on my toast this morning, Heather. Did you want an extra quarter for that?”
“Mom, don’t be like this. It doesn’t help. I’m trying to explain I can’t do it all anymore.”
Her mother’s expression hardened. “Heather, you are welcome to leave anytime you’d like. Nothing is keeping you here.”
Heather looked at her and then at the front door. If only, she thought. Instead she said, “I wish that were true, Mom. You have no idea how much.”
* * *
“Here’s the relevant information,” the nice lady at the shelter said. “The emergency vet number and the phone number to get to one of the technicians during regular business hours. Once the kittens are born, one of the techs will stop by to make sure everything is all right. You’ll be bringing the whole family in, as per the schedule. We have food and litter and a cat who has had several litters. So an experienced mom.”
This was all Kristine’s fault, Sophie thought, trying to look more interested than totally freaked out. Fostering as a way to have a cat in her life without having to emotionally commit had sounded so sensible. Easy, even. But now, when faced with the reality of cat birth in her rental house, she wasn’t sure she could do it. Not that she was responsible for the actual birthing, but what if something went wrong?
“You’ll be fine,” the woman added.
Sophie nodded because curling up in a ball and keening didn’t look good on anyone. Plus, there was another family getting a foster cat and they were all listening attentively, looking totally calm about the process.
“Shall we meet our mama cats?” the woman asked.
“We can’t wait,” the other foster mother said. “This is going to be a wonderful experience for us and our children. It’s the cycle of life.”
Which sounded so very rational and normal. Sophie was left feeling conflicted, knowing her experience with any kind of birthing was limited to mold growing on cheese left too long in the refrigerator.
The shelter worker left them for a second. The other family talked among themselves while Sophie resisted the need to pace restlessly and/or run. But before she could bolt for the door, the worker returned with a carrier in each hand.
“Here you go.”
She set a carrier in front of Sophie and walked to the other family to give them theirs. Sophie looked inside and saw a short-haired white cat with yellow eyes. Part of an ear was missing and she had a scar on one cheek. She appeared tired and crabby and when she looked at Sophie her expression was both weary and hopeless.
Sophie picked up the paperwork and glanced at the cat’s name.
“Lily?” she murmured. “Hi. I’m Sophie. You’re going to stay with me for a while.”
She picked up the carrier and her paperwork and started for the door. A volunteer followed her out to load food and litter in the car. Once the doors were closed and the engine turned on, Lily began howling at an earsplitting volume.
“I know, little girl,” Sophie said over the loud screeches. “It’s scary to be in your carrier, and not knowing what’s going to happen only makes it worse. But I will take good care of you.”
Lily was unimpressed and continued to howl for the entire thirty-minute trip back to the island and Sophie’s rental. When she arrived, she carried in Lily first, then all the supplies. She quickly poured fresh litter into the box she’d bought the day before, then closed the bedroom door and opened the carrier.
Lily stayed in her carrier and hissed.
“Really?” Sophie asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “What about the fact that I did all this for you?”
The bedroom wasn’t huge, but there was a big window and lots of light—at least when it was sunny. The windowsill was wide enough for Lily to sit on and look out. Dugan had stopped by to help her empty the bedroom a couple of days ago. They’d had sex, as well, but the actual purpose had been to get the room cat-ready. After taking out the bed and dresser and nightstands, they’d brought in a comfy club chair she�
�d picked up at the Goodwill so the mama cat would have somewhere to escape from the kittens. There was a new scratching post, a feeding station and most important, a sturdy box turned on its side.
She’d done some reading online, then had put in a thick layer of newspapers, then puppy pee pads. Over that were several blankets and old towels. She’d bought plenty of each at the Goodwill store. Once the kittens were born, she would turn the box upright and cut out a side so Lily could easily jump out, while the kittens were contained.
“I have toys for you, but it’s probably too soon. Did you notice I put the litter box in the closet? Dugan took the door off, so it won’t accidentally close. I think you’ll like Dugan. He’s an interesting guy. He teaches Tai Chi, which is weird, let me tell you. He has money—that’s for sure. I think he inherited it or something.” She lowered her voice. “Between you and me, he’s prettier than he is smart, but he does try to help me with the business, which I appreciate.” She thought for a second. “Okay, not really, but I know he’s trying. He gave me the name of a marketing guy. I’ll be meeting him this afternoon. I’m hoping he’ll take the job.”
Lily inched out of her carrier. Sophie stayed where she was, keeping still, knowing Lily had to make the first move.
“I’ve had a cat before,” she said. “Just so you know. CK was a kitten when I got her.” Her throat thickened. “I loved her a lot. She died. It was really sad.”
Lily approached cautiously and sniffed at her, then began to explore the room.
“I got her fixed, so she never had kittens. Plus, she was an indoor cat. So you’re going to be my first pregnant mom. I really hope you know what you’re doing because I don’t have a clue and I don’t mind telling you that I’m pretty nervous about the whole thing. I’m really not very nurturing. I want to be.” She paused. “Okay, I’m not sure I want to be but I think the world expects me to be nurturing, because I’m a woman.”
Lily sniffed the birthing box but didn’t go in. She also ignored the water and the litter box. After she jumped onto the windowsill, she looked at Sophie.
“New relationships are tough,” Sophie told her. “I get that. It’s hard to trust people. My mom always told me to be careful, that people would break my heart, and she was right.” She paused, not sure what else to share. “I was married before. That didn’t go well. We met in college. We were too young and we wanted different things.”
Mark hadn’t understood her ambition and she hadn’t been willing to change to make him happy.
“It’s just, work is safe, you know? I love it and I’m good at it and I never have to worry it’s going to let me down. I can lose myself there and be happy. Dealing with people is more complicated and I’m not good at it.”
Lily watched her unblinking. Sophie was about to approach her when a car drove by outside. Lily dove back into her carrier. Sophie leaned over and hooked the carrier door so it would stay open rather than trapping Lily inside, then stood.
“I’m going to get to work. I’ll be back later to check on you. I hope you can relax and feel safe here. I might not know anything about cat childbirth, but I’m a pretty good cat mom and I promise I’ll take care of you.” She paused for a second. “I know what it’s like to be all alone, Lily. And you’re not anymore. I’ll be here for you.”
Chapter Ten
At the office Sophie quickly got caught up on what she’d missed while she’d been at the shelter and getting Lily settled. Bear introduced her to a couple more people he’d hired for the warehouse and reminded her things would go more smoothly if she got on hiring some office staff.
“I’m interviewing someone for the head of marketing today.”
“Great. What about an office manager?” He looked around and lowered his voice. “And I’m not sure Amber is going to work out on the phones. She doesn’t seem to want to answer them.”
Sophie groaned. “I was afraid she would be difficult.” No, she thought to herself. Not afraid—certain. But she’d been the one to give Amber a job, so the fault was actually hers.
“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Along with the other forty-seven jobs you’re already doing?”
Before she could decide how to answer that, a tall, distinguished-looking man walked into the warehouse. He had dark skin and eyes and a bit of gray at his temples. His suit looked hand tailored and his shoes were way nicer than hers.
“I believe my two thirty has arrived,” she said.
“Try not to scare this one off.”
“I don’t do that.”
“Sure you do.”
Sophie ignored that and walked toward the suit guy. “Elliot Young? I’m Sophie Lane.”
He held out his hand and shook hers. “Nice to meet you, Sophie Lane.” He looked around. “So this is where the show happens.”
There was something about his tone that made her wonder if he was being sincere or sarcastic.
“You’ve gotten a lot done in a short period of time,” he added.
“Everything back in California was destroyed in a fire. I didn’t have much choice. Shall we head to my office?”
Once he was seated by her desk, she closed the door and settled in her chair. She opened the file she’d prepared the previous evening. She’d printed out his résumé, along with a couple of interviews she’d found online, but before she could start with her questions, he was already talking.
“Basically your business model is like the house brand of a grocery store,” he said. “You buy from large manufacturers and repackage the product to sell as your own.”
“It’s not exactly like that.” She did her best not to sound defensive, even though she felt plenty defensive. “We sell to a more upscale market.”
His gaze was steady. “You want to sell to an upscale market, but you don’t actually get there, do you? Your online presence is decent, but there are some holes in your marketing. My guess is that you’re currently outsourcing your digital advertising.”
Elliot put on a pair of reading glasses and pulled a pad of paper out of his briefcase. “I took the liberty of doing some research on your company. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.”
He read for a second before saying, “I can see what you’re trying to do, but you’re missing the mark. You’re selling well in the larger retailers, but you’re missing a very sizable boutique distribution stream. You aren’t cheap enough to compete with the house brands and not distinctive enough to be worthy of higher prices and therefore higher margins. You are neither fish nor fowl.”
He flipped a page. “The website works. That’s something. But it’s lacking a point of view. You haven’t decided on your perfect customer so you’re not selling to her.” He glanced at her over his glasses. “You should have a marketing firm on retainer so you’re getting constant feedback from focus groups. What a cat mom wants for a cat bed today is not what she’s going to want in six months. What about color branding?”
Sophie blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Home decor is always hot but it’s especially hot right now. Colors change. Why aren’t you selling upscale, cat-based, home decor items in the current colors? If what you sell is keeping up with current trends, then when the trends change, a significant percentage of your customers will want something new.”
He took off his glasses. “Who do you have working in sales?”
She was still caught up in the idea of cat beds as home decor. “I, ah, don’t have anyone right now. I’m interviewing a couple of people and a dream candidate. Maggie Heredia. I’m working on setting up an interview with her.”
Elliot’s expression turned pitying. “You might want a backup candidate.” He motioned his hand to the empty offices. “I’m not sure this is her style.”
Sophie bristled. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“It could be.” He glanced around. “With some work.”
“You know there was a fire, right? The business burned to the ground. Literally. No one who worked for me there wanted to move up here so I came by myself. The company hasn’t even been up and running on the island a month. If you ask me, this is pretty damn close to a miracle.”
“You’re defensive.” Elliot sounded more intrigued than judgmental. “I wouldn’t have expected that. Any other questions you want to ask me?”
“What?”
“For the interview. What did you want to ask me?” He nodded at the folder in front of her. “You have my résumé. Here are some additional references.” He passed her a sheet of paper.
She glanced at the names and saw there were three CEOs of Fortune 500 companies.
“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” she asked, knowing he wasn’t.
Elliot only smiled.
She thought about all he’d said and how he was right about all of it and how no matter how many hours she worked, she never got caught up. She could do it all, but she couldn’t do it on time. Or even close to on time.
“I’d like to offer you the job.”
“Excellent. Put together a package for me by tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ll get started.” He looked around at all the empty offices. “I assume I can take my pick of them?”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
“I’ll check them out. I’ll also want to hire my own staff.”
“You want staff?”
He thought for a moment. “Two people to start with. It may take me a while to find the right people but once I have my team together, we are going to dazzle you.”
She was more caught up in the word team.
“You do know this is a relatively small company, don’t you? Do you really need a team?”
His gaze was steady. “Do you want to do my job, or do you want me to do my job?”
Sisters by Choice Page 11
