Southern Comforts. Nan Dixon

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СКАЧАТЬ gardener back to Boston with her. He inhaled a lungful of flowery scents. The sun warmed his shoulders and eased the tension in his muscles.

      There was something about this place. He could almost close his eyes and take a nap. For the first time he could remember, he noticed birds singing.

      His phone buzzed. “Smythe.”

      “Gray, my friend. How’s business?”

      “Good.” He didn’t recognize the voice, and the number had come up as private.

      “Just wondering if you’ve considered my proposition.”

      He still didn’t know who he was talking to. “Who is this?”

      “Jeremy Atwater. I ran into you at the opera opener last month. Intermission.”

      Gray frowned, trying to picture the guy.

      “We talked about a great biotech investment opportunity,” Atwater said. “You wanted to think about investing in the company.”

      Ding. Gwen had dragged him to the opening. This yahoo had caught him while he’d waited in the drink line.

      “We’re putting together a ten-million-dollar tranche. I’d love to get together and talk about how much of the tranche you’d like to take, unless you and your dad want to take the whole thing.” Atwater laughed.

      Gray gripped the table’s edge. “I’m out of town. I’ll have to forgo this opportunity.”

      “Oh.” Atwater’s tone dripped with disappointment. “I could talk to your father.”

      “You could.”

      “Umm. I can’t get past his assistant.”

      Gray shook his head. “I’ll mention you called.” It was as much as he would commit.

      “Great, great.” Atwater rattled off his phone numbers, though Gray was barely listening.

      Even from a thousand miles away, the vultures found him and tapped him for money. He closed his eyes and rubbed at the headache now pounding in his temples.

      “Hey, mister, can we catch rainbows again?” a small voice asked.

      Gray looked up into a face dominated by a pair of brown eyes. How had the kid snuck up on him? “Joshua, right?”

      “Yup.” The boy scratched at an ugly-looking scab on his hand. “Can we go catch rainbows?”

      Gray checked his watch. “Sorry, kid, it’s too early.”

      The boy’s shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

      “Are you staying here?” Gray asked. He’d thought he’d heard Abby and Joshua’s mom talking about a job, but maybe he’d been mistaken.

      “Mommy’s working.” Josh kept rubbing at the small circular scab.

      “You shouldn’t pick at that,” Gray warned.

      “It itches.”

      “That’s your skin healing. But you don’t want to rip it off too soon, or it might get infected.”

      “I had infected before.” The boy started to pull up his sleeve.

      “Joshua!” His mother came out through a side door. She was twisting a cloth in her hand. Her face was as torqued as the cloth.

      The boy turned and ran to her. “The rainbows aren’t here yet. I have to wait.”

      His mom knelt. “I said you could sit at one of the tables, but you can’t bother the guests.”

      “But he’s at the frog table.” Joshua pointed.

      “You can sit here,” Gray said. “I have...things to do.”

      Joshua’s mom grabbed his hand and took a quick step back. “I’m sorry he disturbed you.”

      “No problem.” The young woman was as skittish as the feral cat he’d brought home when he was ten. “So you got the job.”

      She inched away, glancing at the door she’d just come through. “I did. But it’s on a trial basis.”

      “Well, good luck.” Gray stood and started gathering his things. “Joshua can sit at the table.”

      The little boy snatched up a well-used backpack. It flopped on the chair.

      “You’re a guest.” The woman was twisting her hands again.

      “No problem. I’m Gray.”

      “Umm, Cheryl.”

      “Nice to meet you.” He nodded to Joshua. “Be good for your mother.”

      The little boy took out a pack of crayons and a well-filled tablet of paper. He waved without looking up from his scribbling. “Bye.”

      Gray shouldn’t be lounging in a garden anyway. People who wanted to succeed didn’t sit around drinking coffee in the middle of the day.

      * * *

      ABBY SMOOTHED THE cranberry pencil skirt that ended a couple of inches above her knees and did a little spin. The matching jacket floated away from a white shell that showed a hint of cleavage.

      “Looking good, Abs. Who are you trying to drive crazy with that suit?” Bess leaned against the kitchen table, snacking on a carrot stick.

      “Jacob Tinsley.”

      “Do tell,” her sister encouraged.

      “I want to show him what he can’t have.” Abby tugged her jacket back into place. “He’s asked me out at every meeting for the past three months. Then I discovered he’s living with one woman and dating another.”

      Was there something about her that attracted cheaters? First Maurice and now Jacob. Unfortunately, she’d been engaged to Maurice.

      “I never liked Jacob,” Bess said.

      Abby could always count on her sister’s support.

      “Mr. Smythe’s dinner is in the warming drawer. He likes vinaigrette on his salad. It’s in the fridge on the middle shelf.”

      She walked Bess through the to-do list, even though she’d left instructions pinned to the kitchen bulletin board. “Serve the Petite Sirah with his stew.”

      “Trust me, I can handle this. I’ve hosted tastings for years.” Bess looked at her watch and pointed to the doorway. “Out. No one will walk off in a huff because you miss an evening.”

      Abby kissed her sister and inhaled Bess’s scent of earth and flowers. “Sorry to obsess. It’s been a crazy start to the week.”

      Crazy because of their long-term СКАЧАТЬ