Sisters by Choice

by Susan Mallery

  She staggered into the house with the idea she would change into yoga pants and a T-shirt and then maybe—

  But whatever plans she’d had quickly changed as she was forced to bolt for the master bath. She barely made it in time, retching until she thought she was in danger of something coming loose. She sank onto the floor where she tried to catch her breath.

  A few minutes later she crawled to the sink and pulled herself to a standing position. She washed her face with cold water and rinsed out her mouth, then managed to get to her bedroom where she quickly changed all the while hearing hammering and cheerful conversation between a couple of guys she didn’t know.

  One of them stepped into the hallway. “We’re doing the bathroom today,” he said. “We talked to your mom when we arrived.”

  Heather nodded. “Don’t mind me. I came home early because I don’t feel well. I’ll stay out of your way.”

  She thought about getting something to drink, but it seemed like too much effort. Instead, she went to the linen closet where she pulled out a spare blanket and pillow, then dragged both into the master and laid them on the floor. She lay down and waited to see what would happen next.

  Morning passed into early afternoon. She threw up twice more before managing to get a cup of ice and a can of Sprite. She sipped slowly, careful not to tax her system. Despite the pounding, a radio playing and guys talking, she slept a little. She woke up in the late afternoon feeling marginally better. She wasn’t the least bit hungry, but she no longer felt the cramping and twisting in her belly.

  She rolled onto her back and thought maybe she would try getting up. She could sit on the sofa and—

  The bedroom door opened and her mother walked in. Heather stared in surprise, thinking it was either later than she thought or her mother had come home early. Even as the thoughts formed, she saw Amber carrying several large plastic trash bags filled with cat beds and toys and throws—all with the CK logo.

  Amber stared at her. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”

  “I got food poisoning and came home. Tina drove me. I couldn’t stay in my room because they’re working on my bathroom.”

  “Oh. No one told me.” Her mother walked around her and shoved the bags into the closet, then shut the door. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better.” Heather sat up. “Mom, what’s all that stuff?”

  “What stuff?”

  “The bags you just put into the closet.”

  Amber leaned over and touched her forehead. “You might have a fever. Did you take your temperature?”

  “Mom, the bags.”

  “There are no bags.”

  Heather got to her feet. The room spun a little before settling into place. “I saw them.” The bags were important, she thought, trying to focus. Because there was no way Amber had bought all those things. There was no reason. Which only left one ugly possibility.

  “Mom, you’re not stealing from Sophie, are you?”

  The slap came out of nowhere. Heather staggered back a step, then pressed a hand to her stinging cheek.

  “How dare you,” Amber said, her voice low and angry. “What a terrible thing to say. I bought those things. I paid for them myself.”

  Her chin came up as she spoke and her gaze was steady. Heather willed herself to believe. She wanted to know it was going to be okay—that her mother wasn’t really stealing from her own cousin, but there was no getting around the truth.

  “Why?” she asked softly, dropping her hand to her side. “We have good jobs. We’re well paid. Why would you do that?”

  “She’s not paying us enough. I want that apartment and this is your fault. If you would just sign the lease, then everything would be fine. You’re so selfish. I don’t know where I went wrong with you.”

  Heather knew there was a message here—one she needed to listen to—but she wasn’t able to pull it all together. Sadness overwhelmed her, along with a sense of loss and the knowledge that she was well and truly trapped in circumstances she couldn’t control. The only possible plan was to escape. Only how? And—

  Her stomach lurched and she had to run to the bathroom to throw up yet again. This time was one of the worst. There was nothing in her stomach, but no part of her body seemed to care as powerful muscles caused her to retch over and over again.

  When she could finally breathe, she sank onto the tile floor, pulling her knees to her chest. She felt a cool, damp cloth against the back of her neck.

  “Just try to relax,” Amber said. “I’ll go get you more Sprite with fresh ice. Then I’ll check on the workmen and find out how much longer they’re going to be. You need to sleep. Later, I’ll heat you some chicken noodle soup. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Of course.” Amber kissed the top of her head. “You’re my baby girl.”

  When Amber left, Heather leaned against the tub. Theirs was a twisted relationship, she thought. There was no reason to think it would ever be normal. She thought about what Elliot had told her about the oxygen mask. She didn’t want him to be right, but fate seemed to conspire to convince her.

  * * *

  Sophie did her best to stand quietly in place, when she really wanted to dance and jump and skip. They were here! Finally!

  The “here” was a business park not far from O’Hare airport. She could see the Chicago skyline in the distance and hear the nearby freeway noise. The unimpressive offices belied their importance in her business life because she and Maggie were about to meet with Bryce Green—a national distributor of upscale cat merchandise.

  “Are you listening?” Maggie asked, her voice stern, her gaze direct. “I need you to be listening.”

  Sophie grinned. “I know all this. It’s your meeting. You have a relationship with Bryce, not me. You’re doing all the talking. I’m just here to watch and learn.”

  “As if,” Maggie said with a snort. “You’re here because you begged so much, it got embarrassing. I only brought you because I knew you’d take another flight and tail me. This way I get to keep an eye on you. Now, tell me exactly what you’re going to say to Bryce?”

  “Hello and nice to meet you.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No.” Sophie made an X on her heart. “This is your contact and your show. You’re going to tell him about the cat tree and the custom quilts. Nothing else. We’ll have a pleasant meeting and then we’ll leave.”

  They had a late-afternoon flight back to Seattle. With the two-hour time difference, they should be back on Blackberry Island in time for a late dinner.

  “That all sounds good,” Maggie said slowly. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Seconds later a slight, balding man in a worn suit walked out into the shabby waiting area. He smiled when he saw Maggie and hugged her before kissing her on both cheeks.

  “I finally get to see you again,” he said. “It’s been too long. I can’t believe you jumped ships.”

  “I had to.” Maggie laughed. “Bryce, this is my new boss. Sophie Lane, please meet Bryce Green.”

  Sophie shook hands with him. “This is so exciting. Thank you for taking the time.” She wanted to add that she’d been trying to meet with him for three years, but caught Maggie’s warning glance and carefully pressed her lips together in a smile.

  “Come on back,” Bryce said, leading the way to his cluttered office.

  Sophie wasn’t the least put off by the unimpressive surroundings. Bryce put all his money where it counted—into distribution. He knew each of his customers personally. He understood what worked for them and what didn’t. If he offered something, the retailers knew it was a winner. Getting his attention was difficult. Getting into his markets was a dream come true.

  When they were seated, Maggie pushed aside a pile of invoices and set her tab
let on his desk.

  “I know you’re a busy man, so I’ll get right to the point. CK wants to bring you two unique products.”

  Bryce’s expression turned skeptical. “That’s not the CK brand.” He turned to Sophie. “You like high volume and cheap. That’s not my style.” He held up his hands. “No offense.”

  Sophie’s good mood vanished. Was this jerk dissing her company? She was about to speak when she caught Maggie’s warning glance.

  “New companies have to try different things to figure out what’s right for them,” Maggie said easily. “The brand is maturing and I think you’re going to like the direction.”

  She tapped on her tablet, loading pictures of the cat tree, then turned the screen so Bryce could see it.

  “They’re even more beautiful in person. The wood is untreated, nontoxic and sustainable. The work is done by indigenous tribes in the Amazon. It’s a cooperative partnership supported by the United Nations. We have standard sizes in stock and customizable options.”

  “Nice.” Bryce flipped through the pictures. “I’ve seen a lot of cat trees in my time, but this one is excellent. I’m just not sure I have a place for it.”

  Maggie’s smile never wavered. “I think you’ll change your mind when you get the sample. Most cat trees are sad little things with no padding on the perches. This one has thick layers of dreamy comfort for the cats. You know how cat parents love that.”

  “Maybe. What else?”

  She showed him the quilts and quickly explained how they were customized and shipped out as a kit.

  “A great project for grandma and the grandkids, or mom and her kids, or for the crafter. It’s not like knitting or crochet where you’re constantly fighting the cat for your supplies.”

  Bryce chuckled. “They do like to play with yarn. How long does a quilt take to put together?”

  “That depends on the experience level of the quilter. We can offer them in larger printed pieces or we can do smaller pieces of fabric that require more work.”

  “I don’t know. Is quilting a thing right now?”

  Maggie leaned back in her chair. “Want the statistics?”

  Sophie could feel Bryce’s interest slipping away. He didn’t think the cat tree was special enough and now that she stared at the quilt pictures she wondered why on earth she’d ever thought they were a good idea. They weren’t! They were stupid and she was going to lose her chance.

  “We have these great cat hammocks,” she said quickly. “They’re fun and colorful and cats love them. Or these great stairs for cats. You mount them on the wall and create really cool patterns so they’re both entertaining for the pets, but also art.”

  “Anything else?” Bryce asked, his tone a little strained. “Anything in the upscale cat litter market?”

  Uh-oh. Sophie realized thirty seconds too late, she’d spoken when she wasn’t supposed to. Bryce leaned toward her.

  “I’ve been in the business a long time, Sophie. Let me give you some advice. CK is more a box store kind of brand. You should go talk to one of them and see if you can work a deal. I think you’ll be happier. The stores I sell to have a very different way of doing business.”

  While Sophie loved her box store accounts and would do anything for them, she had a feeling Bryce wasn’t paying her a compliment.

  “Bryce,” Maggie began.

  He shook his head. “I want exclusive. You know that. I want something special and unique. That’s what I promise my customers. They’re willing to pay for the best, but that’s what it has to be. Not some take-out menu. If you can’t believe what you bring me is worth it, then I can’t sell it. But it was real good to see you again.”

  He stood and shook hands with each of them. “Have a safe flight home.”

  “But... But...” Sophie glared at him. “That’s it? That’s all we get?”

  Maggie grabbed her arm and hustled her out of the office.

  “Don’t speak,” her sales director told her.

  “I can speak if I want. It’s my company.”

  When they reached the sidewalk, Maggie headed for their rental car. When she reached it, she turned and glared at Sophie.

  “Yes, it’s your company. It’s your dream, blah, blah, blah. I knew bringing you along was a mistake. I knew you’d do this and I let you convince me anyway. What was I thinking? You’re impossible. You’re impulsive, you’re immune to good advice and when there are consequences, which there always are, you’re surprised. Why can’t you learn? Yes, you’ve done a great job, but you don’t know it all. You don’t. And now you’ve blown the most important meeting you were going to have all year because you couldn’t stop talking.”

  Sophie refused to be the bad guy in all this. “He was impossible. He was going to say no to all of it.”

  “No, he wasn’t. That is simply Bryce’s style. He was very interested in the cat trees and he probably would have gone for the quilts.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “It’s my job to know that,” Maggie yelled. “It’s why you hired me. I know Bryce. I’ve worked with him nearly ten years. He was interested. But you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t trust me. You had to do it all yourself and now we have nothing.”

  Sophie stared at her, unable to take it all in. She hadn’t blown it. There was no way Bryce was going to buy anything. Except, what if Maggie wasn’t wrong?

  Sophie had hired her to handle sales. Sophie had begged her. She’d flown to Denver and offered her the moon, all because Maggie had experience in a market Sophie desperately wanted to get into. A market that Sophie had failed at dozens of times.

  She’d never gotten as far as a meeting with Bryce. Not once. She couldn’t even get him to return her calls. But Maggie had gotten them in because she knew what to do. She’d had a plan and it had all just gone to shit.

  Sophie stared at her. “I blew it.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it.”

  “I did everything you told me not to.”

  “Yup.” Maggie unlocked the rental car. “Get in. We have to get to the airport. Maybe we can get on an earlier flight.”

  “I pissed all over my dream.”

  “And mine. I was supposed to get a bonus based on the order. Guess my kids aren’t getting new bikes for their birthdays.”

  Sophie slid into the passenger side, a cold, horrified sensation washing through her. “It was right there, in the palm of my hand and I killed it.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “It’s all my fault.”

  “Totally. Now can we please stop talking about it?”

  Sophie nodded. She would stop talking but she wouldn’t stop thinking. She’d always been so smart about things. She’d started CK from nothing and grown it to a multimillion-dollar corporation. She had dozens of employees and a great customer list and yet when it came to a critical moment, she’d messed up. There was no one else to blame. She’d been warned and she hadn’t listened.

  She wasn’t the smartest person in the room. Not this time. Because it didn’t take a big brain to stay quiet.

  Was it ego? Was it the erroneous belief that she knew better than everyone else? Was she really that kind of person?

  She’d blown it—totally and completely. She’d been arrogant and thoughtless and wrong.

  She looked at Maggie. “I’m sorry.”

  Maggie sighed. “Me, too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Kristine ran her hands across the top of her new-to-her mixer and tried not to moan. It was so beautiful—sleek lines and shiny chrome trim. Big and powerful and barely scratched. The bowls held quadruple the amount of the mixer she had at home, and the motor had been built to handle whatever she threw at it. She couldn’t wait to give it a test run.

  Jerry’s crew had been hard at work, pulling out the counter and taking up the floorin
g. They weren’t going to be in for a couple of days so she’d decided to test out the kitchen. She’d brought all the ingredients she would need to bake cookies, along with baking sheets and cooling racks. The ones she’d ordered had yet to be delivered. But that was fine with her—she could make do.

  She collected butter and eggs from the cooler she’d rolled in from her car. Her favorite spoons were already laid out on the dish towels she’d put down as her work surface. The new-to-her oven was preheating.

  Happiness bubbled through her, nearly making her giddy. The moment was magical, she thought. Everything she’d hoped it would be. All she needed was a couple of Bluetooth speakers so she could hook up her phone and have some music. When she got home, she would check online and find one or two on sale. Music and a finished kitchen and then she would be ready.

  Sadness poked at a few of her bubbles, but she pushed it away. Yes, everything would be better if Jaxsen could get his head on straight, but that didn’t seem to be happening and she was tired of waiting for him to catch up to the current century.

  “Hello?”

  The sound of a male voice made her jump. Her immediate thought was that she should have locked the front door. Following that was the mental note to get a bell for the door. Not that she had to be frightened. This was Blackberry Island. Nothing bad ever happened here—at least not on the crime front.

  She stepped out of the kitchen and stared when she saw Bruno in what would be the retail section of her store. He smiled.

  “Good morning, Kristine.”

  “Hi. What are you doing here? How did you know about the store? How was Italy?”

  “The catering company told me you’d sent a letter discontinuing your services. I hoped that meant you’d decided to open your store.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “As there is only one former bakery on the island, it wasn’t difficult to find. I took a chance.”

  He looked good, she thought, taking in the stylish suit. Better than she’d remembered.

  “You’re really doing this.”

  She smiled. “I am. I’m very excited. As you can see, the remodel has started. I have a professional kitchen and two brand-new restaurant-quality mixers. I’m in love.”