All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

“Not anymore.”


She glanced at Nate, then back at him and lowered her voice. “You want my number?”

“I’m seeing someone.”

“Is she prettier than me?”

The easiest question of the day. He thought of Charlie in her gear, shouting instructions and taking on a fire, then nodded. “She’s spectacular.”

“If you change your mind, I work part-time at the bakery.”

“Good to know.”

Then, feeling decades older than his thirty-one years, he walked away. When he was outside, he turned back to the barn and wondered if the decision to hire Nate was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Or maybe if was the wrong word entirely.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DOMINIQUE WRESTLED THE empty suitcases onto the bed. Justice, her bodyguard, had left for a few weeks. In truth, she’d let him go because they both knew there was nothing for him to do here. He would return after his assignment and then she would be forced to face the truth about her career. That she was no longer famous. There were no fans and anyone who remembered her was probably an octogenarian and not really much of a threat.

Tears filled her eyes. She brushed them away angrily. She’d cried more in the past few months than she had in the past decade and it was time for the unseemly display of weakness to end. She had survived cancer and she would survive being rejected by her daughter. People might think that ballet dancers were delicate creatures, but Dominique knew the truth. There was steel behind successful dancers and she had been the best.

She would return to her life and find a way to make it less lonely. Maybe she could volunteer or read to orphans. Take a lover. Although in truth, she didn’t really want any man. Dan had been her one true love and when he’d died her heart had died, too.

Friends then, she told herself as she carried the contents of the drawers to her suitcases. Even a monkey had friends. Somehow she would learn how to have one, too. She had to. Otherwise she would truly die alone.

Someone knocked on the suite door.

Dominique crossed the living room and opened the door only to find the mayor and another woman standing in the hallway.

“Hello,” Marsha Tilson said, stepping into the suite. “Dominique, this is Denise Hendrix. She lives here in Fool’s Gold.”

“Nice to meet you,” Denise said with a warm smile.

Dominique nodded. Denise was in her fifties. Pretty enough, in a natural way. Her clothing was casual—jeans and a long-sleeved blouse—but the simple styling suited her.

“How can I help you?” she asked, wondering why they’d stopped by and how long they would be staying. She had packing to get to and then a long limo ride to the Sacramento airport. From there she would fly to New York and lick her wounds.

“I heard you were planning on leaving,” Marsha said, taking Dominique’s hand and leading her to the sofa.

Dominique sat and stared at the white-haired woman. “How could you know that? I barely decided myself a few hours ago.”

“I have a sense about people. I know things have been difficult with Charlie.”

Denise took a chair and watched them without speaking. Dominique had no idea why the mayor had brought her along, but decided to simply go along with things until she could get the two women to leave.

“More than difficult,” she said. “Impossible. That’s why I’m leaving.”

Since their fight, her daughter had been ignoring her calls. Dominique had gone by her house twice. Even though Chantal’s truck had been parked out front, her daughter had refused to come to the door.

Dominique had been forced to retreat. Now she knew that she’d abandoned their relationship too long. They had nothing in common. While she didn’t completely understand all that May had told her, she did believe she was at least partially responsible for the chasm between herself and her daughter. She also knew she’d been wrong about the rape. When Chantal had needed love and support, Dominique had offered criticism.

“I had a daughter,” Marsha said. “A sweet girl I drove away through unreasonable discipline and too-strict rules. Her teenage years were difficult, to say the least. It got so bad, she ran away and refused to see me ever again. I lost her because I was a fool.”

Dominique stared at the older woman. “How is that possible? You’re not like that.”

“It was a long time ago,” Marsha admitted with a sad smile. “I let her go and by the time I realized I’d lost her, she didn’t want anything to do with me. She died young and I never got that second chance.” She looked away and drew in a breath, then turned back to Dominique. “You still have Charlie. You’re here. Don’t give up. Because you never know what life is going to send your way.”