P.I. Daddy's Personal Mission. Beth Cornelison

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      Patrick slumped back against the seat, a contrite expression pulling his mouth taut. “Yes, sir.”

      On the way home from school, Lisa stopped at Salon Allegra for a pedicure. Sure, it was November and no one except her would likely see her bare feet until next spring, but after standing all day and dealing with Patrick Walsh’s aggravated father, she figured she deserved a little pampering. Heck, she might get a manicure, too.

      Lisa pulled the collar of her parka up around her chin as she bustled into the beauty shop. The bell over the front door tinkled as she entered, announcing her arrival to the staff. The shop’s owner, Eve Kelley, looked up from the appointment book at the front desk and sent her a bright smile.

      “Afternoon, Lisa. What brings you in on this blustery day?” Eve’s blue eyes shone warmly, her girl-next-door-meets-cheerleader friendliness in place as always.

      “Hi, Eve. I need a pick-me-up in the worst way. I thought I’d get a pedicure if you could work me in.”

      “Well…” Eve glanced to her beauticians, each with a customer already, and gnawed her bottom lip.

      “If you’re too busy, I’ll—”

      “Nonsense. I’ll get you fixed up myself.” She picked up a tube of salted crackers and motioned for Lisa to follow. “So…bad day at school?”

      “Not for the most part. Plans for the rescheduled fall festival are going well. But one of my better students decided to act out today, and when I called his father in for a conference, I got an earful. Dad settled down a little once I got the chance to explain myself, but…whew! Confrontations with parents always leave me wrung out.”

      “I bet.” Eve patted an elevated chair, showing Lisa where to sit, and set her crackers on a nearby table. As Eve took her seat, Lisa noticed the former prom queen and cheerleader had unbuttoned her jeans at the waist, as if they didn’t quite fit anymore.

      Had Eve put on a couple of pounds? Lisa couldn’t really tell.

      The beauty shop owner look as gorgeous as ever to her. Eve turned and caught Lisa staring, speculating. “So who was this irate father?”

      “Oh, uh…Peter Walsh.”

      Eve paused in her preparations for Lisa’s pedicure. “Peter Walsh? But Peter’s always struck me as the laid-back, easygoing sort.” Eve flashed her a devilish grin and wiggled her eyebrows. “The extremely hot, laid-back, easygoing sort.”

      An image of Peter Walsh’s broad shoulders and rough-hewn jawline taunted her as Lisa returned a smile. “Oh, he is good-looking, no lie. But when it comes to his son, he apparently has a bit of pit bull in him.”

      “Hmm.” Eve hummed as she nibbled a cracker and tipped her head in thought. “I’ve known the Walsh family for years. Peter has never been overly social, but also never anything but kind and polite. He’s had a tough road, raising Patrick on his own.”

      When Eve paused to munch another cracker, Lisa asked, “What happened to Patrick’s mother?”

      A shadow crossed Eve’s face, her sculpted eyebrows puckering with some dark emotion. “She died…in childbirth.” Eve’s gaze drifted away, across the room, as she recalled the details. She rubbed a hand over her belly almost without thought.

      An odd tingle of recognition nipped Lisa’s nape. She glanced at Eve’s crackers then studied the pretty blonde’s glowing face. Could she be…?

      “Katie and Peter were so young,” Eve said and shook her head sorrowfully. “Probably only nineteen or so, but they’d been high-school sweethearts and married right after graduation. Katie’s death crushed Peter. And after losing his father a few years earlier…well, we thought his dad was dead…”

      Eve gave her head a shake and puffed out a breath. “But that’s a whole other can of worms. One more freak tragedy for him and his family to have to deal with.” Jamming one more cracker in her mouth, Eve turned on the jets of the steaming foot bath for Lisa to soak in.

      Lisa slipped off her shoes and socks, giving her sore feet a little rub before sinking them in the warm water. Her fatigue now pressed on her with a more somber note, but she couldn’t blame Peter Walsh for her gray mood.

      Mention of childbirth gone wrong and the subtle clues that Eve was pregnant stirred up painful memories. Memories that were better locked away where they couldn’t haunt her.

      Shoving down thoughts of the baby she’d never have, Lisa wiggled her toes in the steaming foot bath and redirected her thoughts to the subject at hand. “So Peter has raised Patrick alone since his birth?”

      “Yep. Although I’m sure his family gives him plenty of help and babysitting services. Jolene can’t say enough glowing things about Patrick when she’s in here.” Eve smiled wistfully. “Like any good grandma would.” She started working on Lisa’s right foot, buffing, trimming and shaping. “Anyway…don’t let this first impression of Peter Walsh color your opinion of him. He really is a great guy. Any gal would be lucky to have him.”

      “Whoa! “ Lisa held up her hands. “I never said anything about dating him. I’m not looking for a husband.”

      Eve flipped her blond hair over her shoulder and flashed Lisa a saucy look. “Who said anything about you? He might be ten years younger than me but…hoo-baby! When a guy looks that good, who cares about age?”

      They both laughed, and Lisa felt a little of her tension melt away.

      “So what color on the toes?” Eve asked, pulling out a large tray of nail polish.

      “Oh, just a basic pink or mauve is fine.”

      Eve scrunched up her nose. “Pink is so boring, girlfriend. How about this new sexy red I got in last week? Or…oh, I know! Electric purple!”

      Lisa snorted. “Me? Purple?”

      Eve wiggled the bottle and raised her eyebrows with enthusiasm. “Come on. Be daring! It looks really sexy.”

      Lisa shrugged. “What the heck. Paint me purple. Not like anyone but my cat is gonna see my toes anyway.”

      And thanks to her inability to have children, Lisa thought with a pang of sorrow, that was how things were likely to be for a long time. Even her attempt to adopt once had ended in heartache.

      No children. No husband. No family.

      A lonely ache settled over her. Her infertility hadn’t just robbed her of a child, but also the future she craved.

      Peter flipped his wrist to check the time. “Better get a move on, sport. School bus will be here any minute.”

      “Do you gotta work out of town again today?” Patrick asked around a mouthful of cereal.

      “Nope. I wrapped up the legwork on a case yesterday, so I’ll mostly be working from home today to get the paperwork finished. Why?”

      His СКАЧАТЬ