Chapter Eighteen
“Mom, does Jazz have to stay on his leash?” Ana unwound the strap from between the pup’s legs.
Izzy peered through the crowd, rolling up onto her toes. “Yes. Both Jazz and Vi.” In the last two days Ana had taken to calling her puppy by the name Brad and Jerome used. Since her and Brad’s fight, Izzy had asked Ana to come home to watch their dogs instead of going to the shelter. She didn’t know if Brad wanted to see anyone connected to her at the moment, including her daughter. Ana probably missed Brad, hence the use of his nickname for Jasmine.
“We’re not supposed to have them in here in the first place.” For the banquet, Izzy had rented out the facilities the local Rotary Club used for their luncheons. The manager hadn’t specifically stated no dogs, but then, most places didn’t think that needed to be spelled out. The presence of the dogs would up the donations, however. And any photo op would look that much better if Izzy had her dogs in it.
She craned her neck. Where was Brad? This luncheon was to support Forever Friends. He should have been at the front doors greeting people as they entered.
A tall blonde strode through the doors, a huge black standard poodle trotting by her side. She spotted Izzy and made a beeline.
“Her dog isn’t on a leash,” Ana muttered.
Marla’s dog also was in perfect step with its owner, not a squirming, rollicking mess like Jazz. Izzy smiled brightly and stretched out her arm. “Hi, it’s nice to see you again. I’m so glad you could make it.”
Marla took her hand. “Well, since I’m considering investing heavily in the shelter, it seemed prudent that I learn everything I could about it.”
“I went and inspected your property this morning,” Izzy said. “You were right that the door to the mill was unlocked.” Closer to falling off its hinges, more like, but that was something easily repaired. “I think it would be perfect for our purposes. I also ran the numbers about what you could write off as a donation for charging below market rent and emailed it to you a little while ago.”
Rubbing her thumb against her third finger, Marla twisted her emerald ring. “I sent it on to my accountant to review. But I do love me some tax write-offs.” She stepped around Izzy and knelt next to Ana and the dogs. “Hi,” she said to Ana. “I’m Marla. Who are these guys?” She leaned forward, and the slit in her sarong skirt parted, showing a wedge of toned thigh.
Ana introduced them. Vi tolerated Marla’s ear scratch; Jazz writhed in ecstasy at his belly rub.
Gabe stepped next to Izzy. She glanced around him but didn’t see Brad.
“He’s still meeting with his web team.” Gabe cocked his head, his gaze sweeping over Marla’s legs.
He must mean Eugenie and Debbie, though it was funny to think of Brad having a web team. Her amusement left as swiftly as it’d come. “Is he…does he still want to go on with the award ceremony? We could just make this a fund-raising luncheon.”
Gabe twisted his lips. “You’re still getting your award, don’t worry.”
“That’s not what I was worried about!”
Marla stood. Her strawberry-blond hair was styled in a fishbone braid today, and she tossed the tail over her shoulder. “Why shouldn’t she get an award? She rescued all those poor dogs.”
“It’s fine, Marla.” The woman couldn’t know that Gabe came by his rudeness naturally. Izzy didn’t think the man could help it. “Brad and I had a disagreement, and I wasn’t sure he wanted to see me here.” Her throat clogged, and Izzy blinked. Surely if she secured Marla’s property for a new shelter, he’d forgive her then. He’d have to.
“Rescue seems too strong a word.” Gabe crossed his arms over his chest. “She found some dogs in an apartment. It’s not like she was avoiding enemy fire and kicking down doors.”
Izzy agreed. She’d done nothing more than what the average person should do. But Marla’s shoulders squared off and she narrowed her eyes.
“Marla, this is Gabe Moretti, the vet at Forever Friends.” Izzy made the introductions, trying to break the tension. “Gabe, this is Marla Popov. A potential donor.” So don’t be a prick, she tried to communicate with her eyes.
He grunted, and blew out a breath. “I’ve gotta find Brad, get this shindig started. Nice to meet you,” he said to Marla, and turned on his heel and left.
“What a jerk. Is he the shelter’s only veterinarian?” Marla’s gaze tracked his path across the ballroom.
“Yes, and from all accounts, he’s quite good. And fantastic with the dogs, which is really all that matters.” Brad liked the guy, so he must have some redeeming qualities. But Brad saw the good in everyone. Until a person proved his faith wrong.
Izzy knew Brad was quick to befriend people. He was also quick to cut them out of his life at their first mistake. The more Izzy thought about how he’d acted, the more she realized that she wasn’t the only one at fault. A low-grade burn flared to life in her stomach.
Here she’d been feeling lower than pond scum after their fight, shouldering all the responsibility for it, but he was just as guilty. What gave him the right to toss her aside for one little mistake? If it even was a mistake. There were rules she couldn’t violate. He had to grow up and understand that.
By the time he finally entered the ballroom, her temper was at a simmer. “Come on, Ana. Let’s go find our seats.” She nodded goodbye to Marla and made for the head table, making sure to put Ana between her seat and Brad’s.
Brad greeted her daughter with a smile and a joke. Like he hadn’t just torn her mother’s heart out three days ago.
The simmer notched up to a slow-rolling boil. Izzy snapped out her napkin and covered her lap. She shouldn’t be angry about how he treated her daughter. She didn’t want her and Brad’s breakup to affect Ana in any way, shape, or form. Brad should be nice to her daughter.
But the fact that he gave Ana his easy smile burned.
Lifting his gaze above Ana’s head, he saw her expression and frowned. He leaned over to say something, but Izzy cut him off. “People are waiting for you to get this started.” Jerking her chin at the podium set up nearby, she said, “You’re up.”
Brad nodded, but his eyes remained narrowed as he stood. He was still pissed? Fine. Izzy could deal with the fact they were over. But she’d worked hard on this banquet, and Brad was going to damn well carry his weight.
Ana pulled a basket of rolls toward her, and Vi poked her head up between them, sniffing the air.
Izzy pointed to the floor. “Down.” With only a few grumbles, Vi complied. Ana tore off a bite of bread and rewarded her. Izzy rolled her eyes.
Pulling some notecards from his back pocket, Brad started speaking. He was a natural, of course, his friendliness and humor drawing everyone in. Izzy crossed her arms. They hadn’t seen him like she had. Pissy and closed-minded. Irresponsible.
Generous and sexy as hell.
No. She shook her head. If she was going to get through this public spectacle, she had to remember him as he’d been in his office on Tuesday.
The whole room laughed, and Izzy tried to focus on the story he was telling. He said her name, and she realized it was her story about finding Vi and her puppies. Highly embellished, of course. She hadn’t shown up at the shelter with puppies coming out of her blouse. She shook her head, exasperated. But beneath the humor, he still made her out to be a good person. A kinder depiction than she’d been expecting.
He must have written his speech before their breakup.
Calling her name, Brad held out a hand, and she rose to loud applause. Pasting a smile across her face, she crossed to the podium and ducked around his outstretched arm. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “We need to talk.”
Yes, they would talk. Mainly about how she’d found a new location for him that would be better and cheaper than what he had now, and that he could suck it. That she wasn’t all about the money. But now wasn’t the time.
“Thank you.” The microphone screeched, and people near the speakers winced as Izzy adjusted it. “Sorry about that. Thanks again for coming to this banquet in support of Forever Friends. It’s an organization that I didn’t know much about a month ago, but has since become near and dear to my heart.” She pointed at her table. “My daughter and I have got two new additions to our family because of Brad’s shelter”—Ana held up Jazz and gave him a kiss on the nose—“and I’ve witnessed firsthand the difference Forever Friends makes to our community.”
Lydia and Kevin snuck in a side door and slunk to two open seats at a far table. Lydia’s bun was knocked off-center, and Kevin’s hand was wandering lower than a guiding hand to the back should.
“I wanted to thank some special people who helped to make this happen,” Izzy continued. “Deborah Garcia and Eugenie Shaw deserve a special round of applause for all the work they’ve done not only in promoting this event, but in redesigning the Forever Friends website.” The women beamed and waved their hands, and Judge Nichols leaned in close to Eugenie and whispered something that turned the older woman’s cheeks pink. “Everyone go check it out. And I also want to give a special thanks to Tannert Winery for all the wine they generously donated for this lunch.” A bottle of red and a bottle of white stood at the center of each table, with more standing ready in the kitchens if people were thirsty. “So drink up, everyone, and enjoy. And don’t forget to open your wallets. There’s a basket on each table, and we greatly appreciate anything you can give.”
“But don’t drink too much,” Judge Nichols called out. “You all have to drive back to work after this.”
The crowd chuckled, and the noise level rose as the catering staff started serving lunch.
Izzy retook her seat without a glance at Brad. Big mistake.
A hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her from her chair. “Ana, will you make sure the dogs don’t eat our lunches?” Brad asked. “Your mother and I have to go have a little talk.”
“No probs.” Ana buttered a roll, snuck another small piece to Vi. Pulling her phone out of her sock, Ana placed it on the table and started playing.
Brad dragged Izzy across the room and out the double doors.
The heel of her pump caught in the hall carpet, and she stumbled. “Will you stop? What the hell’s the matter with you?”
Ducking his head into an open room, he grimaced and dragged her to the next door. That room met with his approval, and he pulled her in and shut the door behind them. “What’s the matter with me?” He fisted his hands on his hips. “I want to know what’s the matter with you. You’ve been snarling at me since I sat down.”
Izzy blinked. And blinked again. “You’re kidding me, right? What exactly were you expecting? Me to fall at your feet and beg forgiveness?” She’d already apologized for something she didn’t think she should have to. And she was busting her butt to find him new accommodations. He should be falling at her feet.
“Are you saying you didn’t screw me over?” His eyebrows shot toward the ceiling. “And I heard from Burker that you told him to give everyone thirty days’ notice to get out.”
Izzy stared at the diamond pattern in the carpet. That must have been Tariq. She couldn’t blame him. Mrs. Gianapolis, the new buyer, wanted to demolish the structures as soon as possible. But that didn’t give Brad a lot of time to move twenty-odd dogs.
Pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Brad blew out a long breath. “This isn’t what I wanted. Not another fight.”
No, but it had happened so easily anyway. She placed her hand on her stomach. This wasn’t what she wanted, either. Not what she’d started to dream about. There had to be some hope for them left.
“Brad.” Tentatively, she touched his arm, and was gratified he didn’t jerk away. “I—”
A member of the caterer’s staff poked her head in. “There you are. We have a slight problem. Four people ordered the vegetarian, we made six just to be careful, but now seven people want them. Unpleasantness is ensuing.”
Izzy ground her jaw. Vegetarians were not going to ruin her event. She nodded at the woman, and waited for the door to close behind her. “I have to go deal with this,” she told Brad. “But if you want to talk, talk, not fight, then meet me back here after the luncheon.” Reluctantly, she dropped his arm and stepped back. “I’m not interested in wasting time assigning blame. But if you think we have any sort of future together, meet me here and we’ll talk it through.”
He opened his mouth, but she was already slipping through the door. First, she had to make sure a fight didn’t break out over a plate of food. Then she’d think about everything she wanted to say to Brad. That she was sorry and wished she’d been able to think of a way to protect his interests better without betraying her client. That she didn’t like how he’d handled finding out about the sale. But that she had a plan to save Forever Friends.
Izzy found the three people who hadn’t ordered vegetarian meals but demanded them nonetheless. Threatening to find the RSVPs and show them they hadn’t checked the no-meat box, she ordered one man to eat the damn chicken. Politely, of course.
Brad walked in and took his seat. Izzy couldn’t tell anything from his expression. Eager to fix things with her? Annoyed she hadn’t prostrated herself with apologies? For a man who’d always been an open book, he sure showed a talent at playing it close to the vest when he chose.
Lydia waved Izzy over to her table. “How’d it go? You two kiss and make up?”
Izzy sighed and dropped to a squat next to her friend. “No. We didn’t have time to talk, but he still seems angry. Which made me angry.” She darted a glance toward her table, then craned her head to look more fully. Brad’s chair was empty. She frowned. He’d just been there a second ago. She searched the ballroom.
“And that’s it? Another fight?” Lydia broke a roll in half and dropped it next to her chicken. “That’s how you’re going to let it end?”
Kevin rested his hand on Lydia’s seatback and leaned over. “Honey, maybe you should let them deal with their relationship on their own.”
Lydia shot him a dirty look. “But she’s going to screw it up.”
Kevin’s lips twitched, but Izzy wasn’t amused. “I haven’t screwed anything up. Brad’s the one who ended it.”
“Maybe,” Lydia said. “But you seemed awfully quick to accept his leaving. You’ve got to fight for what you want. If you want him, that is.”
Izzy chewed on her thumbnail. Was Lydia right? Was she not a fighter? She hadn’t fought for Javier, but she’d been happy to see the back of him. Why would she fight for a man who wanted nothing to do with his own daughter? And there hadn’t been anyone since to even think of fighting for.
“I think you’re being unfair,” she told Lydia. “I’ve clawed my way, tooth and nail, to get where I am. I’m not some passive wimp.”
“You fight for Ana, and to make a living for her.” Lydia brushed a strand of Izzy’s hair off her shoulder. “But when’s the last time you really went for something that was only for you? It’s scary to put yourself out there, I know. When it might actually mean something.” She slid a glance to Kevin, and he rested a hand on her thigh. “But if you think Brad is worth it, you’ve at least got to try. Don’t let it end on a stupid fight.”
Lydia was right. It couldn’t end on harsh words. “I asked him to meet me after lunch,” she said softly. “I’ll see if he wants to work things out.”
“Good girl.” Lydia raised her almost empty wineglass, and Kevin was quick to refill it. “Now, I think we should get more credit for this fund-raiser.”
“I already thanked you for donating the wine.” Standing, Izzy stretched the kinks out of her legs.
“People are getting sloshed on our wine, and sloshed people always pony up more dough.” She swung her glass around in a circle, red liquid swirling dangerously close to the rim. “At least thirty percent of the cash in these baskets is wine-related.”
Izzy patted her shoulder. “You’ll get a special mention in the next newsletter. I’ll see you two later.” Kevin had stuck to water, so Izzy didn’t have to worry about them driving. Maybe wine at lunch hadn’t been the best idea.
She wound her way back to her table and saw the checks and cash filling the baskets. Or, as Lydia said, maybe wine was exactly what this fund-raiser needed.
Brad still wasn’t in his chair when Izzy sat down. Plucking Jazz from Ana’s lap, she cuddled the puppy up to her chin. “Do you know where Brad went?”
Ana didn’t look up from her phone. “He left.”
Her air whooshed out of her as if someone had punched her in the stomach. “What?”
“He said to tell you goodbye.” Ana shrugged. “He left half his chicken, but Vi jumped up on his chair and ate it, so it didn’t go to waste.”
“What?” she asked again in a whisper. Goodbye? He didn’t want to talk with her, so he’d cut out early and had Ana deliver the message? Her hands tightened, and Jazz whimpered. She loosened her grip and stroked the dog.
“Gabe said Vi would be fine eating the chicken, so you don’t have to worry.”
As Vi was currently lying half under the table snoring, she hadn’t been worried. But better that Ana think her mom was concerned over another eating mishap than over the fact that with one sentence her world had imploded.
Her eyes blurred, but she saw a face she recognized at the next table. She placed Jazz on the floor and walked toward Dax. “I’m not feeling well. Can you collect the money at the end of the banquet and take it to Brad?” She needed to hold it together for Ana, at least until she got her back to school. And holding it together meant not seeing Brad for a long, long time. Forever, if possible. The thought of looking into his eyes, knowing all that had been possible and all that was lost, tore at her heart. No, she wouldn’t be delivering his donations.
“You trust me with all this cash?” Dax waggled his eyebrows. “I am a convicted criminal, you know.”
Across the table, Judge Nichols heaved a sigh. “I see community service hasn’t worked the smartass out of you yet.”
“Never.” Dax looked up at Izzy. “But I’ll get it all counted and collected. Feel better, yeah?”
“Thanks.” She nodded goodbye to the judge, Eugenie, and Deborah and went back to her seat. She pulled her purse from under her chair. “Time to go, baby.”
“I’m not a baby.” Ana rolled her eyes.
Plucking the phone from her hand, Izzy tossed it into her bag next to her own. “You’ll always be mine. Now get Jazz. I have Vi.” She picked up the dog’s leash and headed for the door, Vi trotting by her side.
So that was it. The end of her first real relationship since Ana was born. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and forced the rest of the tears down. Ana would not see her mother cry. Not over a man.
She settled Ana and the dogs in the SUV. Her phone chimed with an alert and she glanced at it as she walked to the driver’s side. Her bank letting her know about an electronic deposit. A hefty one; her most recent commission.
For the first time since becoming a real estate agent, the sight did nothing to raise her spirits. She stood at her door and stared at the numbers. It was another month of Ana’s college education funded. She should be happy. She was meeting her financial goals. She and Ana would be okay.
She tossed the phone back in her purse. But she wouldn’t have Brad. And nothing about that was okay.