Forever Home. Allyson Charles

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СКАЧАТЬ he lowered the dog to his chest. “You’re a tough nut to crack.”

      She shrugged, but then a smile spread across her face, lighting her eyes and stealing Brad’s breath. His chest expanded. Maybe she wasn’t that tough. Maybe—

      Something wet and warm spread across his stomach. His chest deflated on a sigh. He had the bad feeling it hadn’t been his charm and wit that had lit Izzy up. Following her gaze, he looked down, and yep, the little guy had peed on him.

      Not a great recommendation for a prospective dog owner. “House training doesn’t come standard.”

      She laughed, a full-throated chuckle that reminded him of sultry nights dancing under the stars. Brad made it his mission right then and there to hear that laugh again.

      “Well, if I can’t interest you in a dog, how about dinner?” He put the little pisser down and pulled his wet shirt from his stomach. “I promise to shower before I pick you up.”

      Strolling for the door to the exam room, Izzy shook her head. “No, thanks.”

      He trailed after her, careful not to close the door on a dog’s inquisitive nose. “You have to eat, don’t you? Your daughter is invited, too, of course.”

      “Still no.” She paused, darted a quick glance at the boxer mix lying in the corner, and then pushed on into the hallway.

      “Why not?”

      “Because I don’t want to,” she said breezily. “Thanks for the tour and for not calling the police. I appreciate it!” And with a little wave over her shoulder, she sauntered out to the back alley.

      Brad watched the door close behind her.

      “That was quite a crash and burn, man,” Gabe said from the exam room.

      “Bite me,” he replied good-naturedly. Pulling his T-shirt over his head, he walked into his office and found another one in his desk drawer. Yes, Isabelle Lopez had shot him down. But what would be the fun if the chase ended too quickly? As he’d said, she was a tough nut to crack. But one thing Brad’s childhood had taught him was patience. Patience and perseverance. Izzy didn’t know it yet, but she had become a challenge.

      And there was nothing Brad loved more than a challenge.

      Chapter Three

      Izzy held tight to Ana’s hand as her daughter tugged her across the street toward her school.

      “I’m going to be late. Again.” Ana might only be nine, but she could turn on the attitude of a cocktail waitress ten minutes after last call when it suited her. This didn’t bode well for her teenage years.

      “You’re not that late. Besides, I was talking to a client. I couldn’t just hang up on him.” The client hadn’t been happy with Izzy’s recommendation to drop the price on his house by ten thousand, but the small single-family residence wasn’t selling. It was the best option.

      Izzy smiled at the crossing guard and checked her watch. She was going to be late for a meeting with her boss, too, if she wasn’t careful. At the gate to the school, she turned her daughter toward her and leaned in for a kiss. “Have a good day, baby. Mama loves you.” She tugged on her daughter’s ponytail and was rewarded with a faint smile.

      “Love ya, too.” Ana threw her arms around Izzy’s neck.

      Izzy tried to hold on, make the hug last. They were becoming more infrequent, and soon she knew her daughter would feel she was too old for such displays of affection. Ana pulled out of her arms and skipped to her class.

      Izzy stood, watching her go. This move to central Michigan, full of small towns and bucolic landscapes, had been the right decision. Lansing had been getting too expensive and too crowded. It had been a little over a year since their move, and Ana was adjusting nicely to the new way of life. New friends, fresh air, and now Izzy wasn’t afraid to let Ana go home to an empty house after school.

      “Hello, Isabelle.”

      Crap. Izzy shouldn’t have stood mooning about. Now there was no escape.

      Stomach churning, she slowly turned to face one of the women who tried to make her life hell. “Hi, Sandra. How are you doing?”

      “Busy busy. We’re getting ready for that field trip to Binder Park Zoo.” She bent down and gave her son a hug goodbye. He trotted off to class with a smudge of lipstick on his cheek. Sandra straightened. “We’re still looking for volunteers to come along with us to help supervise the kids.”

      “Sorry, but I already told you I have to work.” Izzy kept a pleasant smile on her face even as she ground her back teeth. Sandra was the president of the PTA and an aggressive recruiter of parent volunteers. Well, of the mothers at least. The fathers she left fairly well alone, respecting that they had jobs they couldn’t up and leave.

      Sandra shook her head and shoved her tortoiseshell Gucci sunglasses up onto her crown, the frames holding her hair back. “We haven’t seen much of you this year. You know how important it is to Ana’s development that she have a mother who’s involved and interested in her education.”

      Anger warred with guilt. She wished she had more time to spend with Ana. But she was plenty interested in Ana’s school. She went over her homework with her every night, much to Ana’s annoyance, spent weekends helping with school projects, even bringing Ana along to her showings and letting her work in the houses Izzy was trying to sell. While Sandra might mean well, as a stay-at-home mom she didn’t understand the time pressures Izzy was under.

      “I think it’s more important to Ana’s development that she have a mother with a job so she can get fed and clothed and have a roof over her head.” Izzy grabbed the strap of her purse and squeezed her fist around it. “You know, all that stuff a growing human needs.”

      Sandra shook her head, pity in her eyes. “I know it must be tough for you. All alone. Barely scraping by. And poor Ana only getting the dregs of your time.”

      Izzy cracked her neck. They were a far cry from barely scraping by. She made a good living, but she had to prepare for the future. Ana’s college expenses and her own retirement would all come out of her salary, so she didn’t buy designer sunglasses and vacation in Europe like Sandra. Or trade a paid day at work to herd a bunch of kids around a zoo. “Ana and I are doing fine. But thanks for the concern.”

      She must have sounded as insincere as she felt, because Sandra narrowed her eyes. “If you’re doing so well, then you can take a day off work and help out with the field trip. You don’t want it to be known that you’re the only mother not doing her share.”

      And there it was, the thumbscrews were coming out. Manipulation by guilt and threat of social shaming. The local leaders of the PTA had a nickname around town: the Mothers’ Mafia. They used social media to praise the mothers who fell in line and to drop sly recriminations on those parents they felt weren’t up to snuff. If Don Corleone had had Facebook, he wouldn’t have needed to sever a horse’s head.

      “I can’t take a day off work for a field trip.” Izzy’s shoulders slumped. She knew she was going to regret this offer. “But is there something else I could do to help? Make phone calls, or…” She stopped, realizing she had no idea what all the PTA did besides harass her and make her feel two inches tall.

      Sandra СКАЧАТЬ