“It’s more like a dream come true,” Tara admitted, but Kathy put her hands on Tara’s shoulders and shook her head.
“You were meant to find us, Tara. For whatever reason, God put you here, and I want to say welcome aboard. I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“Think we can do it?” Tara swept her gaze around the store. “The boss”—she hooked a thumb toward Greg but kept her eyes on Kathy—“gave us a month or so. Whaddya think?”
Kathy dusted her hands together. “I think we’d better get a move on. See you tomorrow. And you.” She turned toward Greg, and he’d have had to be blind to miss the gratitude in Kathy’s face. “Thank you. Your mother would be very proud of you today.”
He waved that off as she moved to the door, but she was right. His mother had believed in second chances. And at this moment, he realized he might have more of Maria Elena in him than he thought.
Stop watching for Greg to make an unscheduled appearance. Not gonna happen. You know better than most what it takes to be a successful attorney. It’s a time-consuming process. The guy has a life. Ignore the door.
All week Tara had made a valiant attempt to do just that, but she couldn’t help listening for Greg’s voice, his laugh. Fortunately, there was plenty to keep her busy. They’d gotten over a thousand likes on their new Facebook page, and the Daily News had interviewed Kathy and Greg as part of its Old City campaign.
“Tara, if you’re done watching the door, I’ve got a four thirty appointment coming in that I need you to take.”
“I was doing nothing of the kind.” She walked around the desk and withdrew the bottle of window cleaner and some paper towels. “Clean entrance windows are vital to our success.”
“Mm-hmm.” Kathy’s expression said she wasn’t buying it. “You turn three shades of Vera Wang pink whenever Greg walks in, so don’t think you’re fooling anybody, darling. Fair skin tells the tale.”
“A gift from my mother.” Tara frowned, then sighed. “There’s a laundry list of reasons not to fall for Gregory Michael Elizondo, starting with the fact that he’s my boss. But I forget every single one of them when he walks into the room.”
Kathy smiled. “I understand the hesitation, but if no one ever dated the boss, honey, we’d miss out on some of life’s great stories. Dating the boss is fairly epidemic.”
“Risking a job I need by chancing a bad romance is just dumb.” She waved the paper towel wad as she approached the front door. “And we’re in opposite corners on just about every important issue known to man. How can that be fixed?”
Kathy pointed up toward heaven. “I’ve seen a lot of fixes in my time, sweet thing. All I’m saying is that it’s never good to draw the line too deeply in the sand, because waves happen. Give life, love, and God a chance.”
Tara wanted to do exactly that where Greg was concerned. She gave the front windows a quick wash while Kathy took a phone call. When she hung up the phone, she waved Tara back to the desk and handed her the four thirty appointment card. “She’s coming to look at mothers’ gowns.”
“I’m going to steam this weekend’s veils. Call me when she arrives.”
Kathy called her up front about twenty minutes later.
A woman stood quietly at the desk. She turned, and Tara couldn’t miss the look of apprehension in her eyes, as if Elena’s Bridal was the last place she wanted to be. “Tara, this is Mrs. Dreschler. She needs a mother-of-the-groom gown, and she heard that we put them on sale.”
Tara met the woman’s look of concern with a smile. “You’ve come to the right place. May I take your coat?”
The middle-aged woman tugged the coat more snugly around her. “I’ll keep it. But thank you.”
Tara led her to the area slated to become a prom display room in a few weeks. She turned, ready to ask questions about the wedding, the timing, and preferred styles, but was startled by the anguished look on the woman’s face.
“Are you okay?” She stepped forward, unsure what to do. Mrs. Dreschler’s cheeks had paled. Her breathing caught as if she was fighting tears, and she seemed terrified, as if the twin racks of dresses might launch an attack at any moment.
“Come here.” Tara took her arm and directed her to the nearby comfortable chair. “Sit down, breathe deep, and tell me what’s going on. I’m here to help.”
The woman stared at her hands a few seconds, then shrugged as if conceding a long and drawn-out battle. “I had cancer a few years back.”
“I’m so sorry.” Tara took the chair next to her and waited.