A Path Less Traveled (21 page)

And plenty of
competition.

* *
* * *

Trish awoke
Sunday morning to scrumptious smells wafting from the kitchen. She padded down
the hallway.

Delaine was
already dressed and made-up and buzzing around the room. “There you are,
sleepyhead. I thought I got home early last night. It was only eleven o-clock
and you and Bo were both sound asleep.”

She raised groggy
eyelids. Should she tell her they’d both gone to bed at nine? “You’re sure busy
this morning. What’s going on?” Of course. It was Sunday. “Oh, church. I’ll get
Bo dressed and ready.”

Delaine laughed.
“No, silly. I invited some friends over for brunch. They’ll be here in about an
hour.”

Panic snaked
through her insides. Brunch? Friends? An hour!? Delaine was decked out in
expensive designer Capri’s and a matching jacket. All she had was her jeans and
t-shirts and the threadbare hausfrau dress she’d brought for church. “I wish
you’d told me you were planning this, Delaine. I didn’t bring anything to
wear.” Her words seeped the irritation she felt.

She stopped in
the middle of the kitchen, one hand on her hip as she eyed Trish up and down.
“Hmm . . . you still wear size 8?”

Trish nodded.

“Relax. I have
something that’ll look perfect on you. An outfit I bought last summer on my
trip to Morocco.”

Forty-five
minutes later, Trish donned the outfit which hugged her figure like a surgeon’s
glove. The cream color complimented her dark complexion, and the dainty beaded
stiletto sandals provided the perfect finishing touch. Trish eyed her
reflection and raised fingers to her cheeks. When was the last time she’d
allowed herself to look so grown-up and sophisticated? Ever?

As she made her
way to the kitchen she checked in on Little Bo. He was dressed and sitting in
front of the TV with the video controller. “Are you going to be okay in here by
yourself?”

He nodded in a
game-induced trance.

The guests began
arriving a few minutes later, all friendly and full of chatter. The noise level
in the room instantly quadrupled. Delaine tugged Trish in front of a
well-dressed woman. “This is the lady I was telling you about. Francesca
Giorelli. She owns her own design business in downtown Austin. Francesca, this
is Trish James.”

The woman, hair
chopped short and eyes made-up big, held out a jewel-bedecked hand, an
oversized silver bracelet dangling from her wrist. “So glad to meet you, Trish.
I’m always on the lookout for new talent to add to the firm.”

Her nerves on red
alert, Trish shook her hand and attempted a smile. “Then you have lots of
business?”

Francesca
laughed, a deep throaty sound that reminded Trish of a feline purr. “More than
I can handle. I’ve had to be very selective about which clients I take. Nothing
under fifty grand.”

Trish struggled
to keep her jaw from flapping open. “I see.”
I see?
This woman was a
prospective employer and that’s all she could say?

The smile faded
from the woman’s face. “Excuse me, Trish. I see someone I need to speak with.
Let’s chat later. Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

Delaine elbowed
her and waggled her eyebrows. “What did I tell you? Tons of work for you here
in Austin.” She edged closer. “So what do you think of my gorgeous plastic
surgeon?”

Peter Huggins,
Hollywood-handsome, leaned against the fireplace a few steps away like a
panther about to pounce. He smirked with insolent eyes and raised his glass.

“He seems, uh,
very nice.”

Another woman
Trish didn’t know grabbed Delaine’s arm. “There you are, Delaine. I want you to
tell me about that lovely painting you have hanging over your fireplace.”

Now alone, Trish
decided to check on Bo, but Peter stepped in front of her, blocking the
hallway. “Not leaving so soon, I hope?”

“Uh, no, I was
just going to check on my son.”

“I’m sure he’s
fine.” His voice was razor-edged silk, and he ran his gaze down her chin.
“Delaine didn’t tell me you were such a classic beauty. Have you done any
modeling?”

What rock had
Delaine found him under? “No.” Trish was just about ready to spear the man’s
foot with her stiletto heel, when Delaine possessively linked her arm in
Peter’s, her eyes glittering.

“So what are you
two talking about?”

Trish gave a
close-lipped smile. “I told him I was just about to check on Bo. Now if you two
will excuse me.”

Later that
afternoon, Trish carried a very sleepy little boy to the Suburban and buckled
him in, then turned to face her friend. “Thanks so much for the weekend. We
both had a wonderful time.”

Delaine gave her
a hug. “Thanks for coming. I hope you’ll give more thought to moving to Austin. I’d love to have you closer.”

Trish let out a
puff of air. “I’ll definitely give it some thought.” And then some. She pulled
herself into the driver’s seat, waved, and drove toward the interstate that
would lead them home. With Bo asleep, she had plenty of time to rehash the
events of the weekend and think things through.

No matter how
painful, she had to face the facts. She wasn’t making enough money to support
her son and pay her bills. A move to Austin would provide a good job to meet
their needs. Bo needed stability, but her family had their own lives to lead.
Yes, Andy had more than made up for the deficit, but the whole situation filled
her with fear. Without Bo, she would be tempted to see where the road with Andy
might lead, but under the circumstances, it made no sense. Impossible decision.
How was she supposed to know what to do?
God, what do You want?

Trust and
wait.
The words were immediate, a still, small voice sounding in her
thoughts.

Wait for what?
Bankruptcy?

* *
* * *

Was it wise to
call? From his small apartment, Andy peered out over downtown Miller’s Creek,
the area emptied of traffic and people on this cloudy Monday evening. Everyone
had gone home to their families, while he’d just returned from his nightly
visit to the Morganville nursing home.

After discovering
dad’s dementia, he’d known he had to do something. The man was way past being
able to care for himself. Guilt sliced through him. If he’d taken the time to
find him earlier, would it have made a difference?

A weary sigh
escaped as his thoughts returned to Trish and Bo. He’d been over the situation
a thousand times in his mind. Like a hamster on a spinning wheel, he’d agonized
over it all weekend while she was away. He had to convince Trish to stay in
Miller’s Creek, but how? It was too soon to confess his feelings. That would
send her sprinting to Austin faster than anything.

He unclipped his
cell phone and pushed speed-dial for Trish’s house, breathing a silent prayer
for direction.

Bo answered.

“Hey, bud, this
is Andy.”

“Hey, guess what?
We went to the coolest water park.”

Unease stabbed at
him. Bo liking Austin was not a good omen. “Sounds like fun. Is your mama
there?”

“Yep. I’ll go get
her.”

Several minutes
later she came on the line, breathless. “Hi, Andy.”

“Hi. What took
you so long?”

She laughed, a
melodic sound. “Sorry about that. I was actually out in the cottage, painting.”
Her voice held a happy lilt, and he imagined a sparkle in those tawny eyes of
hers.

“You sound
happy.”

“I guess I am.”

Dread filled his
heart. “So the weekend in Austin went well?”

“Very well.” She
offered no further information.

“Glad to hear
it.”
Okay, that was a lie.
“Glad to hear you’re painting again. You
know, I bet you could sell your paintings professionally.”

This time her
laughter held cynicism. “It’s nice of you to say so, but I’m not so sure,
especially in this economy.”

He plopped onto
the futon and took a swig of cool water, his pulse pounding.
God, give me
the words to say.
“Thought maybe we should get started on the new building.
You still planning on helping me out?”

“Sure. I guess. I
mean, if you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

“Okay. What would
you like me to handle?”

“Everything.
Locate a building contractor, and then decorate and furnish the entire house
and office space . . . except the basement.” He already had another purpose for
that space. That is, if everything worked according to plan.

“I assumed that
would be storage space for your office.” Even her tone held a frown. “I don’t
mind purchasing file cabine—”

“That won’t be
necessary.” The less said the better. “Why don’t I set up an account like I did
for my temporary office, so you can order what you need and also pay yourself?”

“That’s a lot
more leeway than most clients give. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have me
bill you? I don’t want any special favors.”

“I trust you,
Trish.” Why couldn’t she get that through her beautiful, thick skull?

“However you want
to handle it is fine with me.”

Finally. “I’ll
set up the account tomorrow. Just let me know when you need more. Why don’t we
meet on Thursday to go over plans? Will that give you sufficient time?”

“It should. When
and where?”

“Ten a.m. at my
office.” The conversation grew uncomfortably quiet. Would she go ballistic if
he asked about the trip? “So tell me about Austin.”

“We had a great
time. I think we both needed the time away.”

“Good. You, uh,
still thinking about moving?”

In the silence he
could almost see her will-you-let-it-rest glare. “As a matter of fact, yes. I
know I could be successful with an interior design business there. In fact, I
met the lady interested in my portfolio.”

His heart
plummeted. “And what about Bo?” He hated the accusatory edge to the question,
but he couldn’t help how he felt.

“
My
son
would have access to some of the best schools in the state.”

He yearned to
tell her that Bo needed the security of the familiar. To tell her how much he
cared. But he didn’t dare say more.

“I haven’t had
the chance to ask about your friend who died. Were you very close?”

Andy’s throat
constricted. “Yes.”

“That must have
been difficult. Was he a classmate?”

“No.”

She waited, as if
she expected more. “Why are you so close-lipped about your past?”

The question
socked him in the gut. How could you explain to someone who had no point of
reference what it was like to feel judged because your father was a drunk? The
drunk who no longer even recognized him. “Maybe there’s nothing to tell.”

“Maybe.” Her tone
screamed disbelief. “But it seems to me you’re trying to cover it up.”

White-hot heat
coursed through his veins. The queen of social masks was accusing
him
of
covering up?

“I don’t mean to
sound unkind, but if you expect me to answer your questions about my plans and
past, I think it’s only fair for you to reciprocate.”

The white-hot
heat turned to icicles. “It’s not like you’ve been completely straightforward
with me either.”

“What are you
referring to?”

“I know you’re in
financial trouble, and your family suspects it, too.” As the words sloshed from
his mouth, he knew he’d overstepped his bounds. Again.

Chapter 14

T
rish squeezed into
the bright yellow sardine can of a car. After checking for oncoming traffic,
she zoomed away from Hank’s Used Car lot in Morganville. Already she missed the
interior space of the larger vehicle, but some things couldn’t be helped. The
switch to a small car made financial sense. It gave her enough money to get rid
of the car payment and have a little cash left over. Besides, a small car meant
better gas mileage, which could only help when you were on the verge of
bankruptcy.

She cracked a
window to get rid of the stale smell and tucked her now windblown hair behind
her ears. Otis Thacker had been on her back for three months to pay her monthly
lease on the shop. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to pay him. The two design
jobs she’d picked up in Morganville had provided food money, but little else.
How could she drive around in a nice Suburban when she owed so many people?

Time to pull out
all the stops. If she couldn’t make a go of it in Miller’s Creek, she needed to
know soon. Like before summer was over. If they had to move, it needed to
happen before Bo started school in the fall.

Andy’s handsome
face loomed in her mind, but she pushed it away. Other than work and baseball,
she hadn’t seen him in the two weeks since their argument. During the times
she’d been around him, he’d been mentally elsewhere, his mind obviously on
something more important. She slid a hand down the opposite arm to chase away
goose bumps. Under the circumstances, this distance between them was a good
thing. Now if she could only convince Bo of the fact.

Within a half
hour she pulled up to the front of Designs By Trish. She entered the two-story
brick building and looked around the space, empty except for boxes she’d packed
for the move.

A sick feeling
landed in her stomach, and she moved a hand to her abdomen in an effort to
still the wild dance inside. She’d had such high hopes when she’d signed the
lease. If only it didn’t feel like she was throwing in the towel. If only she
could’ve made this work. She clenched her teeth. Enough of the “if only’s.”

Trish lifted a
box and trudged to the car. She wedged it in the tiny back seat. Okay, it
would’ve been smarter to move this stuff before she sold the Suburban.

“What are you
doing?”

She jumped at
Andy’s unexpected and demanding voice, and bumped her head on the car ceiling.
With one hand on her head, she faced him.