SHE WAS GLAD to be working the counter, grateful to the steady trickle of customers who kept her busy. Amelia didn’t appear to be interested in her when she was working. At least not so far.
She’d made a list, documenting every incident she remembered clearly for Mitch’s files. She’d noted down the locations: the pond, her bedroom, the nursery. She wasn’t absolutely sure, but she thought there had been other times her thoughts weren’t really hers. In the garden at Harper House, when she’d been daydreaming at work.
Once it was down on paper, she decided, it didn’t seem that enormous.
At least not during the day, when people were around.
She looked over as a new customer came in. Young, good shoes, good haircut. Healthy disposable income, Hayley decided, and hoped to help her dispose of some.
“ ’Morning. Can I help you find something today?”
“Well, I . . . I’m sorry, I think I’ve forgotten your name.”
“It’s Hayley.” She narrowed her focus while keeping her expression pleasant. Swingy, streaky blond hair, narrow face, pretty eyes. A little bit shy.
Then her own eyes popped wide. “Jane? Roz’s cousin Jane? Holy cow, look at you.”
The woman flushed. “I . . . got my hair cut,” she told her, and fluffed a hand over the flattering swing.
“I’ll say. You look great, totally great.”
The last time she’d seen Jane, she’d helped Roz and Stella move the woman’s few possessions out of the over-stuffed, overheated city apartment ruled by Clarissa Harper. The woman they’d smuggled out—along with journals Clarissa had nipped out of Harper House—had been dull and dowdy, like a pencil sketch that barely showed up on the paper.
Now her plain, dishwater blond hair had been lightened, highlighted, and shortened to a sassy length that didn’t drag down her long, thin face.
Her clothes were simple, but the cotton shirt and breezy cropped pants were a far cry from the dumpy skirt she’d been wearing when she’d made her escape.
“I’ve gotta say: Wow. You look like you’ve been on one of those makeover shows. You know, like What Not to Wear. And oh boy, what just came out of my mouth was really rude.”
“No, it’s okay.” Her smile spread even as her blush deepened. “I guess I feel made over. Jolene—you know Jolene, Stella’s stepmother?”
“Yeah, she’s terrific.”
“She helped me get the job at the gallery, and the day before I started, she came to my new apartment. She just . . . highjacked me. She said she was my fairy godmother for the day. Before I knew it, I was getting my hair cut, and they were putting aluminum foil in what was left of it. I was too terrified to say no.”
“Bet you’re glad you didn’t.”
“I was in a daze. She dragged me out of there to the mall, and said she was going to start me off with three outfits, top to toe. After that, she expected me to fill out the rest of my wardrobe in a like manner.”
Her smile wreathed from ear to ear even as her eyes went damp. “It was the most wonderful day of my life.”
“That’s the sweetest story.” Hayley teared up as Jane did. “You deserved a fairy godmother after being kicked around by that wicked witch. You know, historically fairy tales were women’s stories, passed orally in a time when women didn’t have many rights.”
“Um. Oh?”
“Sorry, trivia head. It’s just that this is all such a girl thing, I guess. I’ve got to get Stella.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt anything. I just hoped to see Cousin Rosalind, and thank her.”
“We’ll get her, too.” Hayley hurried over to Stella’s office door. “But Stella’s really going to want to see this.” She poked her head in without knocking. “You’ve got to come out here a minute.”
“Is there a problem?”
“No, just take my word and come out here.”
“Hayley, I’ve still got half a dozen calls to make before I . . .” She trailed off, automatically putting on her greeting-the-public face when she spotted Jane. “Sorry. Is there something—Oh my God. It’s Jane.”
“New and improved,” Hayley said, then winced. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. That’s just how I feel.”
“Jolene said she’d given you the Jo Special.” Delighted, Stella walked a circle around Jane. “Boy, didn’t she just. I love your hair.”
“So do I. Your stepmother, she’s been so good to me.”
“She’s enjoyed every minute of it. I’ve had reports, but I have to say, a picture’s worth a thousand. I hope you’re doing as well as you look.”
“I love my job. I love my apartment. I really love feeling pretty.”
“Oh.” Stella’s eyes filled.
“Same thing happened to me,” Hayley said as she got a two-way from behind the counter. “Roz,” she said into it, “we need you at checkout.”
She clicked it off on Roz’s staticky complaint about being busy.
“I don’t want to drag her away from her work.”
“She’ll want to see you. And I want to see her see you. God, this is fun!”
“Tell us what else you’ve been up to,” Stella said.
“Work’s number one. I really love it, and I’m learning so much. I’ve made a couple of friends there.”
“Male types?” Hayley wondered.
“I’m not ready for that yet. But there is this man in my building. He’s very nice.”
“Is he cute? Shoot, customer,” Hayley grumbled as one came in through the back with a loaded cart. “Don’t talk about anything sexy while I’m busy.”
“I thought I’d be embarrassed to see the two of you again.” Jane turned to Stella as Hayley waited on the customer.
“Why?”
“That time, when I met you, I was so whiny and horrible.”
“You were not, you were scared and upset. For good reason. You were taking a big step, letting us in so Roz could get those journals.”
“They belonged to her. Clarissa didn’t have the right to take them from Harper House.”
“No, she didn’t. But it was still a big step for you, to let Roz get them back, to move out, start a new job, a new life. I know how scary that is. So does Hayley.”
Jane glanced over her shoulder to where Hayley rang up sales and chatted with her customer. “She doesn’t look like she’d be scared of anything. That’s what I thought when I met her, and you. That the two of you would never be afraid to stand up for yourselves, never let yourselves get pushed around like I did.”
“We all get scared, and we don’t always do something so radical and positive about it.”
Roz came in, the only sign of irritation the slap of her gardening gloves on her thigh. “Is there a problem?”
“Absolutely not.” Stella gestured. “Jane wanted to see you.”
Roz’s brows lifted, and her smile spread slowly. “Well, well, well. Jolene is a woman of her word. Aren’t you just blooming.” She stuck her gloves in her back pocket, then lost her breath as Jane threw arms around her. “I’m glad to see you, too.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ll never be able to tell you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m so happy.”
“I can see that. Feel it, too.”
“Sorry.” Sniffling, Jane released her. “I didn’t intend to do that. I wanted to come, to thank you, and to tell you I’m doing a good job at work. I got a raise already, and I’m making something of myself.”
“I can see that, too. I don’t have to ask if you’ve been well. I’m happy for you. And, however small it might be of me, I’m downright delighted to see you looking so pretty, so excited about your life because that must just burn Cousin Rissa’s bony ass.”
Jane gave a watery laugh. “It does. It has. She came to see me.”
“What’d I miss, what’d I miss?” Hayley demanded as she hurried over. “Go back and repeat all the good stuff.”
“I think we’re just getting to it.” Roz angled her head. “So Rissa got her broom out of storage and came to see you?”
“In my apartment. I guess my mother gave her my address, even though I asked her not to. It was about a month ago. I looked through the peephole and saw her. I almost didn’t answer the door.”
“Who could blame you?” In support, Hayley patted Jane’s back.
“But I thought, I can’t just sit here like a rabbit hiding in my own apartment. So I opened the door, and don’t you know she walked right in, sniffed the air, ordered me to fetch her some sweet tea, then sat down.”
“Bless her heart,” Roz drawled. “Her ego never withers.”
“What floor’s that apartment on again?” Hayley squinted as she tried to remember. “Third or fourth, as I recall. She’d’ve made a nice splat if you’d tossed her out the window.”
“I wish I could say I did, but I went and got the tea. I was just quaking. When I came back with it, she said I was an ungrateful, wicked girl, and I could cut off my hair, get myself into some rathole of an apartment, fool some brainless ninny into giving me a job I was certainly unqualified to handle, but it didn’t change what I was. She said a number of uncomplimentary things about you, Roz.”
“Oh, tell.”
“Well, um. Scheming harlot for one.”
“I always wanted to be called a harlot. People just don’t use the word enough these days.”
“That’s what started getting my back up. I thought maybe she was entitled to call me ungrateful, because I was.” Jane fisted her hands on her hips, jutted her chin in the air. “My apartment’s not a rathole, it’s just sweet, but with her tastes it might seem like it, and she didn’t know Carrie—my boss?—so she might think she’s brainless to give me a chance. But she had some nerve calling you names when she’s the one who stole from you.”
Jane squared her shoulders, gave a decisive nod. “And I said so.”
“To her face.” Hooting out a laugh, Roz framed Jane’s face in her hands. “I couldn’t be more proud.”
“Her eyes almost bugged out of her head. I don’t know where the words came from. I don’t have much of a temper, but I was so mad. I just cut loose on her, said all the things I hadn’t hardly let myself think when I was living with her, and waiting on her hand and foot. How she was mean and spiteful and no one had an ounce of affection for her. How she was a thief and a liar, and she was lucky you hadn’t called the police on her.”
“Get you.” Hayley gave her an elbow nudge. “That’s better than tossing her out the window.”
“And I wasn’t even done.”
“Keep right on going,” Hayley prompted.
“I said I’d beg on the street before I’d come back and be her whipping girl. Then I told her to get out of my apartment.” Jane threw out an arm and pointed. “I gestured, just like this? Sort of over the top, I guess, but I was wound up. She said I’d regret it. I think she might’ve said I’d rue the day, but I was so stirred up I didn’t pay much mind. And she left.”
She blew out a breath, waved a hand in front of her face. “Whew.”
“Why, Jane, you’re a Trojan.” Roz took her hand, gave it a squeeze. “Who’d have thought?”
“It didn’t end there, exactly. She tried to have me fired.”
“That bitch.” Hayley’s face darkened. “What did she do?”
“She went to Carrie, told her I was a woman of loose morals, how I’d had an affair with a married man, and that I’d stolen from her when she’d graciously taken me into her home. Said she felt it was her Christian duty to warn Carrie about me.”
“I’ve always thought there were special front row seats in hell for Christians such as Clarissa,” Roz commented.
“When Carrie called me into her office and told me she’d been there, what she’d said, I was sure I was going to be fired. Instead she asked me how I’d stood living with that horrible old crow. That’s what she called her. And the fact that I had told her I had a lot of patience and fortitude, which she thought were good qualities in an employee. Since I had them and had proven I was willing to work hard and learned fast, she was giving me a raise.”
“I like Carrie,” Hayley decided. “I’d like to buy her a drink.”
“THERE’S NOTHING BETTER than a happy ending.” Unless, Hayley decided, it was sitting in the shade on the glider, sipping a cold drink while Lily played on the grass. And Harper swung beside her.
“It’s always a happy ending when Cousin Clarissa gets the heave-ho. She used to terrorize me when I was a kid, whenever she came around. Before Mama booted her out.”
“Know what Jane said she called your mama?”
“No.” The relaxed expression on his face settled into cold stone. “What?”
“A harlot.”
“A . . .” The stone broke into a huge, rolling laugh that had Lily clapping her hands. “A harlot. God, Mama would love that.”
“She did. You really know her, don’t you? It was just such a good morning. Pushed all the bad stuff away awhile. Seeing somebody who’d discovered themselves the way Jane has, or is, I guess. The one time I met her before? She was practically invisible. Now’s she’s, well, she’s pretty hot.”
“Yeah? How hot?”
She laughed, elbowed him. “Never you mind. One cousin at a time.”
“Exactly what kind of cousins are we anyway? I’ve never figured it out.”
“I think your daddy and mine were third cousins, which makes us fifth. At least, I think. Maybe we’re fourth cousins once removed. It could be third cousins, twice removed. I can never get it just right in my head. And there’s half blood in there, too with my great-grandmother’s second marriage—”
It was probably just as well he stopped her mouth with his. “Kissing cousins covers it,” he decided.
“Works for me.” Because it did, she leaned in to take his mouth again.
Lily interrupted with a few squawks and babbles, tugging on Harper’s legs until he hauled her up. Curling her arm around his neck, she pushed Hayley back.
“Well, I guess that shows me.” Amused, Hayley leaned in again, and Lily pushed her back and wrapped tighter to Harper.
“Girls are always fighting over me,” he said. “It’s a curse.”
“I bet. That one you were with last New Year’s Eve looked like she could scratch and bite.”
He smiled at Lily. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Oh, yes, you do. The blonde with about a yard of hair and perfect Victoria’s Secret breasts.”
“Yeah, the breasts are coming back to me.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say!”
“You started it. Amber,” he said with a chuckle as he lifted the baby high over his head to make her laugh.
“Of course. She looked like an Amber.”
“She’s a corporate lawyer.”
“She is not.”
“God’s truth.” He held up a hand like a man taking an oath. “Beautiful doesn’t have to mean bimbo, of which you are living proof.”
“Good save. Were you serious—and forget that spilled out. I hate when women, or men for that matter, poke into past relationships.”
“You showed me yours. Not serious. She didn’t want serious, neither did I. She’s focused on her career right now.”
“You ever been serious?”
“I’ve approached the parameter of serious a few times. Never crossed over into the zone.” He sat Lily between them, snugging her in so she could swing.
Better leave it at that, Hayley told herself. Leave it comfortable with the three of them lazing on the glider with the bees humming in the hazy heat and the flowers bursting through it with bold summer colors.
“This is the best part of summer,” she told him. “Evening shade. It seems like you could sit where you are for hours, without a single important thing to do.”
“Don’t want to get away from here awhile?”
“Not tonight. I wouldn’t want to leave Lily two nights running.”
“I was thinking we could take her to get some ice cream after dinner.”
Surprised, she looked over. Then wondered why she’d been surprised he’d suggest it. “She’d love that. So would I.”
“Then it’s a date. In fact, why don’t we go out, get a burger and finish it off with ice cream?”
“Even better.”
STEAMY JULY MELTED into sweltering August, days of white skies and breathless nights. It seemed almost normal, almost peaceful as day blended into day.
“I’m starting to wonder if just finding out her name was enough.” Hayley potted up pink and yellow pentas. “Maybe the fact we worked to find it, and how she’s Roz’s great-grandmother’s, satisfied her, calmed her down.”
“You think she’s done?” Stella asked her.
“I still hear her singing in Lily’s room, almost every night. But she hasn’t done anything mean. Every once in a while I feel something, or sense something, but it fades away. I haven’t done anything weird lately, have I?”
“You were listening to Pink the other day, and talking about getting a tattoo.”
“That’s not weird. I think we should both get tattoos—a flower theme. I’d get a red lily, and you could get a blue dahlia. I bet Logan would think it was wicked sexy.”
“Then let him get the tattoo.”
“Just a little one. A girly one.”
“I think girly tattoo is an oxymoron.”
“Absolutely not,” Hayley protested. “Flowers, butterflies, unicorns, that kind of thing. I bet I could talk Roz into getting one.”
The idea had Stella tossing back her red curls and laughing. “Tell you what, you talk Roz into getting a tattoo and . . . Nope, I still won’t join the party.”
“Historically, tattoos are ancient art forms, back to the Egyptians. And they were often used to control the supernatural. Since we’ve got some heavy supernatural going on, it would be like a talisman, and a personal statement.”
“My personal statement will be refusing to let some guy named Tank carve a symbol—girly or otherwise—into my flesh. Just call me fussy. Those look good, Hayley. Very sweet.”
“Customer wanted sweet, and the yellow and pink are her daughter’s wedding colors. These’ll make nice centerpieces for the wedding shower. I think I’d shoot for something a little bolder, a little punchier myself. Maybe jewel tones.”
“Something you’re not telling me?”
“Hmm?”
“Bride colors on your mind?”
“Oh, no.” She laughed and set a completed pot aside. “No, nothing like that. We’re just, Harper and me, we’re just taking it slow. Really, really slow,” she added with a huff of breath.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yeah, I did. I do. I don’t know.” She blew out another breath, fluttering her bangs. “It’s smarter. It’s more sensible to take things really easy. There’s a lot at stake most people don’t have to consider. Like our friendship, and the work, and our connection to Roz. We can’t just jump into the sack because I’ve—we’ve got an itch.”
“But you want to jump into the sack.”
Hayley slid her eyes over to Stella’s. “I was thinking more dive in, headfirst.”
“Why don’t you just tell him, Hayley?”
“I made the first move. He’s got to make this one. I sure as hell hope he picks up speed pretty soon.”
“I’M TRYING NOT to rush her.” In the kitchen, Harper drained the better part of a can of Coke. He rarely broke for lunch, but early afternoon meant there would be no one in the house but David.
“You’ve known her going on two years, Harp. That’s not just not rushing, that’s standing still.”
“It was different before. We’ve only just started seeing each other this way. She said she wanted slow. I think it’s killing me.”
“I don’t think people actually die from sexual frustration.”
“Good. I’ll be the first. I’ll be written up in medical journals posthumously.”
“And I’ll be able to say I knew him when. Here, eat.”
Dubiously, Harper poked at the sandwich David set in front of him. “What is this?”
“Delicious.”
Without much interest, Harper picked up the sandwich. “What is this?” he asked again after a sampling bite. “Lamb? Cold lamb?”
“With a touch of nectarine chutney.”
“That’s . . . pretty damn good. Where do you come up with—no, no, stay on target.” He took another bite. “I’m good at reading women, but I can’t get a handle on her, on this. It’s never been important before—not this way—so I keep clutching.”
With his own sandwich, David slid across from him. “It is good you came to me, young student, for I am the master.”
“I know. I thought about just walking over one night, maybe with a bottle of wine, knock on her terrace door. The direct approach.”
“It’s a classic for a reason.”
“But she’s nervous about Amelia, about having any sort of, you know, encounter, in the house. At least that’s my take.”
“Is encounter code for hot sex?”
“Damn you, you’re too clever for my pitiful ruses. Anyway, I could have her and Lily over for dinner, and after the baby was asleep—a little wine, a little music.” He shrugged and felt he was riding around the same circle again.
“There’s also a reason why fine hotels have room service and Do Not Disturb signs.”
“Room service?”
“Work with me, Harp. You take her out to dinner—fancy dinner. Let’s try the Peabody. They have lovely rooms, lovely service, fine food—in-room dining.”
Chewing thoughtfully, Harper played it out in his head. “I take her out to dinner—in a hotel room? Don’t you think that’s a little . . . brilliant,” he decided after a moment.
“Yes, I do. Wine, candles, music, the works, all in the elegant privacy of a hotel suite. You’ll be bringing her breakfast in bed the next morning.”
Harper licked chutney off his thumb. “I’d need a two-bedroom suite for that. Lily.”
“Your mama, Mitch, and I would be more than happy to entertain the charming Lily for a night. And to show your amazing forethought—or mine—I’ll pack an overnight bag for Hayley. You’ll just have to get the room, take her things in, arrange the service, set the scene. Then sweep her up there and off her feet.
“This is a good idea, David. I should’ve thought of it myself, which just shows how messed up in the head she’s got me. I’ve got to get back, talk Stella into juggling the schedule so I can pull this off. Thanks.”
“I’m always here to serve the course of true love, or at least hot hotel sex.”
SHE WORE HER red dress. It was the nicest she had, and she liked the way it looked on her. But she wished he’d given her time to go out and get something new. All their other dates had been casual.
He’d seen her in this dress. The fact was, he’d seen her in everything she owned.
Still, she had great shoes. Roz’s cast-off Jimmy Choo’s that probably cost three times what the dress did. And worth every penny, Hayley decided as she turned in front of the full-length mirror. Just look what they did for her legs. Sexy instead of skinny, she decided.
Maybe she should wear her hair up. Lips pursed, she scooped it off her neck, angling her head this way and that to check the effect.
“What do you think?” she asked Lily, who was sitting on the floor busily putting a pile of little toys in Hayley’s oldest purse. “Up or down? I think I can pull the up-do off, if I keep it sort of tousled. Then I could wear those cool earrings. Let’s try it.”
When a man said he wanted to take you out to a special dinner, she decided as she pinned and re-pinned, the least you could do was pull out all the stops, appearance-wise.
Right down to the underwear. At least that was new—and purchased recently with the idea that eventually he’d see her in it.
Maybe tonight, if they could extend the evening a little. He could come back here with her. She’d just have to block Amelia out of her mind. Block the idea that Harper’s mama was right in the other wing. That her own daughter was in the next room.
Why the hell did it have to be so complicated?
She wanted him. They were both young, free, unattached, healthy. It should be simple.
Becoming lovers should have weight. She remembered Harper’s words. Well, the situation had weight. It was time she started thinking of that as a plus instead of a minus.
“I’m the one making it weird, Lily. I can’t seem to help it. But I’m going to try.”
She put on the earrings, long, flashy gold dangles, considered a necklace and rejected it. The earrings made the show. “Well.” She stepped back to do a little turn for her daughter. “What do you think? Does Mama look pretty?”
Lily’s response was a mile-wide grin as she dumped everything out of the purse.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Hayley said, then turned back to the mirror for one last check.
The breath left her body so fast her head went light.
She wore a red dress, but not the thin-strapped, short-skirted number she’d had for more than two years.
It was long and elaborate, cut low so that her breasts rose up to be framed by the silk with a cascade of rubies and diamonds spilling down over the exposed flesh.
Her hair was piled high in an elaborate confection of shining gold curls with a few arranged to frame a striking face with lush red lips and smoldering gray eyes.
“I’m not you,” she whispered. “I’m not.”
She turned deliberately away, crouched to pick up scattered toys with trembling fingers. “I know who I am. I know who she is. We aren’t the same. We aren’t alike.”
Chilled with a sudden panic, she spun back again, more than half afraid she’d see Amelia step out of the glass, and become flesh and blood. But she saw only herself now, with her eyes too wide and dark against her pale cheeks.
“Come on, baby.” She grabbed Lily, and at the baby’s wail of protest, snatched up the old purse, then her own evening bag.
She made herself walk at a reasonable pace, and slowed even that as she approached the stairs. Roz would see the shock on her face, and she didn’t want to talk about it. Just for one night she wanted to continue the illusion of normal.
So she took her time, got her breath back, got her features under control. She strolled into the main parlor with Lily on her hip and a smile on her face.