Still the One: A Beloved Duet Read online

  Can you set aside some time to talk?

  Something about her emailing to set up an appointment to speak sent a red flag waving in the air. He didn’t know why, it just did. He wrote back to say he was calling, then dialed her number straight away, only to have it go to voicemail.

  His mother was never too busy to pick up the phone. Part of his brain knew he was overreacting, but his worry seemed to develop a life of its own. He wasn’t going to be able to focus if he didn’t hear from her.

  Just as he was about to leave a message, he had an incoming call from her. She had been forty when she’d had Grayson and was now pushing past seventy, which by any standard was technically old, but she was in amazing shape and there was something endearing about the fact that she was cool enough to use all the latest technology. Often, she remained ahead of him when it came to new gadgets and upgrades.

  “Hello, Mommy Dearest,” he answered playfully.

  “Good morning.” Her voice sounded as if she’d just woken up. Odd for her since she was what you’d call an early bird.

  “Morning back.” He kicked his feet up on his desk and leaned back to watch the waves crash on the shore from his office window. The sky and sea were almost the same color this morning. It would be hard to tell them apart if not for the band of mist that hung between the two. “What’s with the formal invites to call? I don’t need to pencil you in.”

  “I know, sweetheart, but I also know how busy you are.”

  “Never too busy for you.”

  “Well …” She paused, then fell silent.

  “Mom?” He let his feet drop to the floor as he sat forward. Something was definitely off. “What’s going on?”

  “Sorry. I got distracted.” She cleared her throat. “The reason I called was I’d like you to come home and see me.”

  “If you want to visit, why don’t you come out here like you always do? The weather is perfect for a visit. What’s it there right now, subzero?” he asked, thinking about how the mountain air always made the mornings crisp in Beloved.

  “I want you to come home,” she said assertively.

  He looked at his phone, then searched the weather app for the day’s temperatures in Osten, Colorado which was the nearest town to Beloved outside of Denver. The warmest it was going to get that day was fifty degrees. Almost a heat wave in the mountains but a cold front by his standards. Grayson’s body was acclimated to the Southern California weather from all the years he’d lived there.

  “Come on now.” He tried to charm her. “We can hang out in Beverly Hills. Do the spa thing you love so much. Shop on Rodeo. People don’t leave Los Angeles for Beloved, it’s the other way around.”

  “Grayson!” she snapped.

  Now that was the Helen Gamble that everyone else knew, but she rarely raised her voice to him. There was only one time he could remember, and it was the day she’d changed his life. The day she told him that in order to have a future, he had to let go of his past.

  Beloved had been in his rearview mirror ever since.

  “It’s not often that I ask anything of you,” she said with audible frustration. “I need you to do this for me. You need to come home. Please.” There was a quiver in her voice.

  That was Grayson’s confirmation: something was completely amiss. Helen Gamble was something of a steamroller when it came to other people. She was a woman of position and wealth, but where Grayson was concerned, no was rarely her answer. For her to be even the least bit firm was his hint that he better do as she asked. The last time she’d asked anything of him had changed the trajectory of his existence.

  On graduation day, she’d handed him the gift that would allow him to chase his dreams. His whole plan was so clear as a teenager and he’d presented her with a business strategy for a tattoo shop called Scratchers. Her gift was a big fat yes in the form of a check that could only be cashed if he left Beloved and headed west. It was enough that he couldn’t say no.

  Helen’s friends in Pasadena recommended Santa Monica because of its culture and Hollywood connections. They said there would be lots of opportunity if Grayson proved to be any good. He was a damn good artist but whether that translated into a good scratcher would remain to be seen. All the backing in the world wouldn’t replace the fact that he still had to do the heavy lifting and prove himself. He’d done that. He was established and had more than paid his mother’s investment back. Now his life was here, but she always referred to his home as Beloved.

  He made a point to have her come to California instead of him going to Colorado. It wasn’t because of the cold weather, but the warmth he’d left behind when he rode out of town. It was guilt that made him not want to look back. He was sure he’d made a huge mistake leaving Lara Williams behind.

  She was the reason it was so easy for him to say no to emotional involvement with other women. Years after he left her standing on the front porch, he couldn’t move on. She held a secret place in his heart that only she would know. He’d never forget her words that day. “If you leave me now, I never want to see you again.” He’d left. He had no choice. He thought he could charm her into forgiving him. Hard to do when she wouldn’t take or return his calls. He’d given up trying after a year.

  He sat up straight in his chair as his mother continued to talk. He should have been listening, but his mind was elsewhere.

  His stomach growled, reminding him that he’d planned on going next door for a sunny side up egg on avocado toast.

  “You’ll come home, right?” His mom’s question broke through the haze.

  “Sure, Mom. Tell me what this is about.” He was already searching for flights.

  “I’ll tell you when I see you because I’d rather tell you in person.”

  He didn’t press it, knowing in his gut that whatever his mother had to say wasn’t something he wanted to hear over the phone.

  “Okay, Mom.” His tone had sunk low like his spirit. “I’ll make the arrangements and send you my itinerary as soon as I have it.”

  He’d woken that morning smiling, immensely satisfied with his life the way it was. He now ached with a longing that was as old as time. He would go home to Beloved. He would step back in time to the place where he had gained and lost everything on the same day.

  Chapter Three

  Lara

  Cascading braids of rawhide adorned with bells hung from the doorknob of Lara’s shop and a sweet, chirping sound filled the air as they moved. They jingled regularly as deliveries, customers, and friends came in and out of the shop. Mathematically it was impossible for a town as small as Beloved to produce the foot traffic that moved through her humble store, and yet it did.

  The purpose of the bells was to get Lara’s attention, but they became the sound of normalcy. She relied on her intuition to guide her as to whether she should stop what she was doing and refocus. At the moment, she worked with her favorite couple, the Californians—Cody and Emma, soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Albright. She loved their story of love at first sight, but she was somewhat plagued with envy.

  Deep in thought, she went over the design she’d created for the Albright wedding. Expense was no object, so she came up with a mockup of the bridal veil falls with a variety of white flowers.

  Emma wasn’t familiar with what a bridal veil fall was, so Lara was surfing the internet with her clients showing them examples. They were into nostalgia and so this was one more component that got them excited.

  “Beautiful,” remarked Emma.

  “There’s lots of lore inspired by bridal veil falls,” she said. “Of course, we have some here in Colorado. The one in Telluride is called the Niagara of the West.”

  Emma gasped and regarded her fiancé with eyes of longing. Lara wondered if she hadn’t accidentally talked the couple into moving their nuptials to Telluride.

  Lara did her best to redirect them to Beloved. “But at this time of year—”

  “We love the floral idea,” Emma chimed in quickly.

  The breath she
had been holding let go in a whoosh.

  “That’s great.” She pointed back to the diagram, happy to have kept the wedding local. “Keep in mind we will be indoors. As we discussed, the venue you’ve chosen is completely modern, state of the art, despite its rustic appearance. There are a number of views that we can place behind the windows. There’s a meadow with wildflowers, a pasture with horses, and of course, a view of the Rockies. They even have a view of our beloved town. For our purposes, we’ll use our famous falls. You have to use your imagination because you’ll be the first to use the angle we are providing, but I promise it will be spectacular.”

  They both looked at her like they’d found a priceless treasure at Sotheby’s.

  “We have an option to lay the arrangement over an existing backdrop, or have one on each side of the window, and we can let the picture of the falls be the focal point of the design.”

  Emma didn’t wait for her fiancé to reply. She chose the option with more flowers, which was what Lara was hoping for. She was going to say something, but the bells on the front door jingled and jingled and jingled. It was like someone hit replay and put her bells on a continuous loop. Even the Albrights tore their eyes from the plans and looked toward the door.

  Standing there with a what-did-I-do look was Aidy. The big grin on her face made it obvious she knew exactly what she’d done.

  Lara fired dirty looks at her friend, who removed the bells from the door and laid them on the counter, silencing the disruption.

  She loved Aidy—her life-long best friend—but she would describe her as a gossipaholic. If there was something new to be learned, someone new in town or some tidbit of gossip to share, Aidy was all over it. She didn’t have her finger on the pulse of the town, she was the pulse of the town.

  Lara wasn’t a gossipmonger. She listened to Aidy as a public service, so she didn’t burst. Aidy got something out of sharing the business of the town and listening to her stories was clearly medicinal. Lara was afraid if she didn’t let Aidy have her ear for at least five minutes, poor Aidy would suffer elevated blood pressure or an information aneurysm.

  They had an agreement. Aidy was always welcome in the shop, even when clients were there, but she couldn’t interrupt, unless it was an emergency. Gossip was never life-threatening.

  Aidy beamed in response to the three heads turning her way. She had a have-I-got-something-to-tell-you look on her face. It had to be good because she twitched and bounced as if she’d take flight, but Lara was unsympathetic. Aidy had crashed a meeting with one of Lara’s best clients. Emma soon-to-be Albright was nice and generous, but she was babied and a bit spoiled. Asking for anything was a formality where she was concerned and by the look on her face, she wanted privacy.

  Entitlement was a foreign concept to Lara, as it was for Aidy. They had been dirt poor but well-cared-for as children. Their parents worked in the old Silver Spur mine outside of town until it had closed a half dozen years ago. After that, Aidy’s parents left for Texas, where her father went to work mudlogging and Lara’s parents headed for Florida in search of sunshine and oranges. No one was privileged. They worked for everything they had.

  She bought her first car, a used fifteen-year-old Subaru, all by herself with tips she earned waiting tables, and babysitting. She purchased her first and only house on her own. Her mother and father gave her lots of love and support and good direction, but they had little as far as riches. In high school, there were the haves and have-nots. She and Aidy were the latter unless she considered Grayson as a have because she did have him for a time—until she didn’t.

  “May I help you?” Lara asked stiffly, hoping that Aidy would get the vibe to leave immediately.

  “No,” she said and smiled. “I’ll wait.” Aidy disappeared behind the succulent display.

  “I’ll call you when I’m available. At the moment, I’m with clients.” Her voice was saccharine sweet with a touch of I’m-going-to-kill-you mixed in.

  She sensed Cody was getting antsy. Brides could talk wedding details all day, but bridegrooms had a short shelf life.

  Aidy had wrecked Lara’s mojo and she was not going to forgive her. While Aidy had to wait until someone sprained a wrist or broke a hip, she wasn’t self-employed. Lara needed to sell every petal she could to keep the shop open and her mortgage paid.

  Cody looked at the time on his phone. “We’re here all week. Can we continue this in the morning?” He rose from his seat with his feet already pointed toward the door. “Is there anything you can send over for us to look at while we dine?”

  A fake laugh floated through the air as she tried to act casual despite being boiling mad. The saying A picture is worth a thousand words was bullshit. Touching the petals and smelling the fragrance of night blooming jasmine was worth a thousand dollars—or more, especially when budget wasn’t a factor.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked the couple politely, all the while hoping they’d stay.

  “Starved,” admitted Cody, poised to walk out.

  The fight rushed out of her like the air in a pricked balloon. She hated relinquishing time with her clients because Aidy couldn’t sit on juicy gossip for a few more minutes.

  Lara’s temper went Chernobyl. The more she tried to turn it off, the more it built and burned. She was certain it colored her face as well as the interaction with the Albrights. Once, a long time ago, Grayson had told her that a person could feel her temper. It wasn’t that she got mad often, but the fact that she tried her best to deny it made her anger palpable. She never thought it was convenient to get mad, especially since she wasn’t able to switch it off easily.

  “Go and have your dinner.” She tried her best to make light of the situation. “You’re going the B & B route, right? Do you want a suggestion for dining or is that already mapped out for you?”

  “We have an idea where we want to go,” said Cody. “I don’t know if it’s the same for you, but the second we try to figure out where to eat is the second we can’t decide what we want. It’s best to plan ahead in our case. We can pick up where we left off tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely,” Lara said, putting on a good front.

  “You’ll send over the graphics? That way we can start the meeting tomorrow with our thoughts in check.” He tapped the top of his head. “Planning ahead.”

  “You got it,” said Lara. “As soon as I close up, I’ll get those to you.”

  Aidy was silent until the couple left.

  After the Albrights were out of earshot and the store was empty, Lara cut her eyes in the coldest, meanest stare she could muster. She took a deep breath as the wind-up for the lecture she would deliver, but the words bubbled up and bottlenecked in her throat.

  “Uh,” began Aidy in a playful yet taunting tone. “Have you been seeing much of Chuck lately?”

  Lara braced herself on the counter she stood behind, her hands gripping the granite so she couldn’t fling a vase.

  “Is that what halted what could have been a lucrative business moment? You wanted to talk about Chuck?”

  “You know, Lara,” Aidy lectured as she leaned on the counter with her back to the door. “Chuck is not a bad guy. In fact, yours truly thinks he’s a great guy. He’s a catch.”

  “Again,” Lara gritted the word through clenched teeth, “you interrupted my clients’ time for nonsense about Chuck? I’m not interested in what you know about him, and I’m not interested in what you think about him.” She scrunched up her face, balled her fists, and practically sang out, “Chuck Bowman is less interesting than watching paint dry.”

  A gasp came from her right. Because Aidy had removed the bells from the door, Lara hadn’t heard the last person enter and walk behind the succulent display. She cussed herself internally for wanting to give it height. The living boxes stacked nicely to over six feet tall, hiding all but the top of Chuck’s head.

  “Uh, Lara.” There was a touch of panic in her friend’s voice that made her cringe. With eyes as round and big as beach balls,
she leaned forward in time to see Chuck peek around the display. Had she really yelled at the top of her lungs? Was it possible that the words had only been an internalization?

  The three of them were still and silent. So quiet that only the bee trying to escape by pounding against the front window could be heard. If it were up to Lara, she’d gladly trade places with it and beat her head against the glass.

  It was then that she looked at Chuck and had to admire how handsome he was. Even with his slack-jawed expression, she had to admit he was easy on the eyes, but it took more than a pretty face to keep her interested. She’d been selfishly dishonest with him and herself, stringing him along for the sake of not being lonely.

  “Chuck,” she said in a small, weak voice.

  “Just stopped by to see if you wanted to go to dinner.” He rounded the display with his shoulders slumped and his jaw no longer hanging open but closed with the muscle now twitching.

  Her eyes dropped. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  “Snuck in while you two were quarreling.” In his fist, he clutched a bunch of tulips. They were her favorites. She’d mentioned it once, and he’d never forgotten.

  He set the flowers on her counter.

  “I know,” he rasped. “Flowers for a florist. How boring. Must be like watching paint dry.” He turned to leave.

  “Chuck. Wait. Please.”

  “What is it you want to say?” He twisted around to stare at her. “I know you don’t tell the truth, so that makes anything you say irrelevant.” He walked out of the store, through the door that was now muted.

  “What the hell did you take the bells off for?” she screamed at Aidy.

  “I thought they were bothering you!” she yelled back.

  “Not them. You,” she snarled. “I hurt a nice guy.”

  She marched around the counter and hooked the bells back where they belonged, then raced back to hold her head in her hands and stew in her regret.

  “I didn’t come over here to talk about Chuck.” Aidy’s voice went small and timid.