He tipped a fake hat at me.
I reached my leg over the side of the boat, my patent-leather-wedge-clad foot tapping the deck.
“Ma’am,” Sheldon said. “I’m not sure about your footwear.”
I lifted my foot. “See? Rubber soles.”
“That’s a real woman,” Sheldon said, handing me three pieces of teak. I pretended to study them, but in reality, I made up my mind the moment I saw them. I handed him back the one in the middle.
“Wow,” Jack said. “I looked at those for like forty-five minutes before I came to get you. What do I owe you?”
I shook my head and looked at him. “You’ve given me enough, Jack.”
I turned to walk back to the store, and he followed me, matching my pace, our legs moving in sync. “Can I take you to lunch?” he asked.
I had so much to do. It pained me to say, “I need to get back to work.”
His face fell, and I couldn’t stand that I had been the one to make it do that. So I said, “Well, maybe we could grab a quick bite.”
He smiled and offered his arm to me again, and, just like that, I was giddy and carefree.
“I’ll have your mood boards ready tomorrow,” I said. “I’ll get a feel for what you want, and then we’ll go from there.”
He stopped walking and said, “I want whatever you want, Ansley.”
And I knew right then and there, despite my fear, despite my hesitation, despite the queasy feeling in my stomach, that I wanted much, much more.
FOURTEEN
short straw
caroline
I used every trick I had to try to get Emerson to move to Manhattan instead of LA. I mean, sure, anyone could see that if you wanted to be on TV, LA was probably the spot. But there was Broadway. And off Broadway. And way, way off Broadway.
I always said things like “You can get Chinese food at two a.m.!” But when had I ever gotten Chinese food at two a.m.? I didn’t like Chinese food. I did, however, like the energy. It felt like everyone was on a mission, had a purpose. Here, it was kind of like people were meandering around until they died. I mean, yeah, they had to walk their dog or whatever. Catch some fish for dinner. But that was about it. Usually, this would have driven me insane. Now, though, I was nesting. So it was actually kind of appealing.
I was in the guesthouse by myself. Vivi was in the main house playing with Adam and Taylor, which made me very happy. You wonder how your kid is going to adapt after being an only child for so long. Seeing how much she loved her cousins, I got the feeling that my girl was going to be all right.
What was not going to be all right was this crib. One, I was gigantic. Two, I had never used a tool in my life. Three, all I could think about was the fact that my husband had just appeared on TV with another woman, and the entire country, it felt like, was talking about what an idiot I was, knocked up and hiding out while my husband was gallivanting around. It felt like he had won. And I hated losing. Hated it. I finally threw the directions into the air and marched down the stairs, over to the main house.
“I am not suited for crib construction,” I said very dramatically, before thrusting myself onto a chaise, hand over forehead.
It wasn’t until afterward that I realized Kimmy and Kyle were standing in the living room.
I sat up sheepishly. “Sorry,” I said.
Kyle said, “Perfect timing. This is a decaf, low-sugar, dairy-free creation for the mother-to-be. It has rooibos tea, which I read Indian women drink to keep their iron levels up during pregnancy.”
I took a sip and gasped. “Kyle! You have outdone yourself! This is heaven in a cup.”
He grinned. God, he was good-looking. I winked at Emerson, who grinned back at me. For a split second, I considered that maybe I could have a little rebound fling with Kyle. It was probably the pregnancy hormones talking. Probably.
“Let me get a pic,” Emerson said. “We need to commemorate the moment that my sister realized there was life—and coffee—outside of New York City.”
I motioned to her. “Come get in, too!”
“OK,” Kimmy said, annoyance lacing her voice. “I suppose I’ll take the picture, then.”
“Take a few,” I said, twisting this way and that like a belly dancer to see which angle made me look thinnest.
“OK,” Em said. “Last one! Double kisses!”
I threw my arms around Kyle’s neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. Emmy much more demurely pecked his other cheek.
“Thanks, Kyle,” I said. “This has really brightened my day. Now, if I could find a way to get Ladies Who Lunch off the air, that would really cap it off.”
“Yeah, that sucks,” Kyle said. “What idiot would leave you?”
“Evidently, you would,” I said.
He furrowed his brow but continued to smile.
I pointed to my stomach. “The rumor around town is that my baby could potentially be yours, and Emmy and I are in a family feud because you dumped me for her.”
“Wow,” Kyle said. “I am the man.”
Sloane walked through the front door with some other hottie. I mean, Kyle was a young hottie. This guy was kind of old. Like Mom’s age. I had to investigate.
“Hi,” I said, reaching out my hand. “I’m Caroline.”
He had deep brown eyes, distinguished-looking eyebrows, and a nose that was appropriately large for making him look very masculine. And he was wearing shorts, so you could tell that his legs were tan and muscular. But I got this weird feeling like I knew him. Which, of course, I probably did from when we lived in Peachtree before.
He smiled, those eyes dazzling me. “You must be the actress,” he said, laughing.
It took me a moment to figure out why that was funny. “Oh, I get it,” I said. “As opposed to the pregnant one. Nope, I’m definitely the pregnant one.”
“Jack is looking for Mom,” Sloane said.
“I just wanted to drop off her sweater. She left it on my boat.”
I guess I didn’t hide my shock that my mother had left her clothing on some strange man’s boat. And, obviously, he was a man that she knew well enough to tell him all about us.
He laughed again. “Your mom’s my decorator. She came by the boat this morning to pick out a stain.”
Still. Mom should really explore that. Sloane had obviously had the same thought, because it was clear she had trapped him here. This guy looked like he wanted to get the hell away. And fast. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be standing in our kitchen if Sloane hadn’t sweet-talked him in some way.
I did a quick hand check. No ring. And I liked him right away, which is really saying something, because I generally like no one. I looked at him intently. “Are you married?”
“No.”
“Dating anyone serious?” Sloane chimed in.
He looked back and forth between us. “Am I on some sort of trial here?”
“Yes, you are,” Sloane said seriously.
He pointed to the door. “Maybe I should be wearing a tie for this.”