All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

“Not really, but it’s nice to hear you talk about them.”


Dominique raised her eyebrows. “Nice again? Is it really that bad between us, Chantal? We’re mother and daughter.”

“Biology doesn’t guarantee communication.”

“Obviously.”

Charlie thought longingly of a ten-mile run. At the end, she would have accomplished something and be assured a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately this dinner didn’t promise anything close to either.

Dominique looked at her. “Why a firefighter? It’s not a traditionally feminine occupation.”

“I wanted to be able to help people. I enjoy the intense work environment and the friendships.”

“Like a dance company.”

“Yes. A little. We share experiences that the rest of the world can’t always relate to. We work hard and have a common goal.”

“I remember a choreographer wanting to modernize Giselle. I’m in favor of updating the classics as much as anyone, but his ideas were ridiculous. We banded together and told the producers we would not destroy something beautiful in the name of change.” She pressed her lips together.

Charlie could see she was trying. She wasn’t sure why, but Dominique had made it clear she wanted to have a relationship. As they were the only family each of them had, Charlie knew she should make the same effort.

“You must miss your friends,” she said.

Her mother nodded. “I do. The travel, as well. In the last few years, I was exhausted all the time, but when I stepped onstage, it was still magic.”

“You brought beauty to people’s lives. For a few hours, they could forget everything but the dance. They were transported. That’s a gift.”

“Thank you.”

“I remember Dad taking me to see you dance. Even though I knew it was you on the stage, sometimes it seemed like you weren’t real. More fairy princess than mother.”

“It’s the stage makeup.”

Charlie laughed. “I suspect it’s about your brilliance more than stage makeup. You had a gift. Not just the talent, but the willingness to do the incredible work. I admired that.”

“I wanted you to have the same.”

“I know. It didn’t happen.”

“That was obvious from an early age.” Dominique sipped her wine. “It’s possible I pushed you a little too hard when you were young. I hoped you would grow into someone more...”

“Graceful?” Charlie offered.

“Perhaps.”

“I wasn’t going to grow smaller, Mom. I wanted to be like you. I just didn’t know how.”

“You turned out very well.”

An unexpected compliment. Charlie told herself to accept it and not look for anything more. This was a start.

“At the risk of shattering the mood,” she said carefully, “I’d, uh, really appreciate it if you could not call me Chantal.”

Dominique’s eyes widened. “It’s a beautiful name.”

“It is and nothing about me fits it.”

Her mother wrinkled her petite, perfect nose. “You want to be called Charlie?”

“Yes.”

“But it’s so ungainly.” Dominique nodded. “All right. I’ll try. It may take some doing.”

“I appreciate any effort.”

For the first time since her mother’s arrival, Charlie felt herself starting to relax. Maybe she’d been too quick to assume the worst. Dominique would always be the star, but everyone could grow and change. Even in small ways. She’d been without family for so long that it would take some retraining to get used to having a mother around, but that was okay. They only had each other. Dad would want them to get along.

“Are you really dating that man? Clay?”

Charlie’s good mood vanished. Her muscles tightened as she automatically braced herself for attack. “Clay and I have been seeing each other,” she said, avoiding the actual D word. Because they weren’t dating. They were having sex.

“How did you meet?”

“He’s been staying on the ranch for the past few weeks. He’s moved back to town and wants to open a business. He’s also interested in being a volunteer firefighter.”

Dominique put her wine on the coffee table and leaned forward. “You need to be careful. I looked him up on the internet.”

“I know he was an underwear model,” Charlie said, not happy with the turn in conversation. She thought about bouncing up to start the pasta, but knew her mother would only follow her into the kitchen. Better to get it out now.

“More than that.” Dominique studied her. “He’s very handsome and from all accounts, quite charming. Chantal, I’m concerned.”

So much for the name thing getting through, Charlie thought, aware that was the least of her problems. “Meaning, what? He’s too good for me? A man like him would never be interested in a woman like me?”

“You’re not his type.”

The blunt words shouldn’t have been a surprise. Under any other circumstances, Charlie would have agreed with them. “You’re saying I’m not pretty enough, right? Or glamorous or special?”

“I’m saying you could get hurt.”