Blue Ridge Reunion. Mia Ross

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      Sensing that he hadn’t strayed as far from their Christian upbringing as she had, she wisely kept her mouth shut. But he was still the same old Paul, and he eyed her suspiciously. Setting down his menu, he folded his well-muscled forearms on top and leaned in with a slight grin. “You’re not tight with the big guy anymore?”

      “I wouldn’t have phrased it quite that way,” she chided, relenting when his grin widened into a you-can’t-fool-me look. “All right, you nailed me on that one. Happy?”

      “Immensely. Most women baffle me, but you haven’t changed a bit. It’s kinda nice.”

      “I’ve changed plenty,” she insisted as Molly showed up with a pitcher of tea and two glasses. “You’re exactly the same, though.”

      “You make that sound like a bad thing.”

      “Trust me, it is.”

      “Arguing again?” Molly teased, pulling an order pad from the pocket of her apron. “It feels like old times, seeing you kids in my place. What’ll you have?”

      “How ’bout some barbecue?” Paul suggested with a questioning look at Chelsea. “If you want, we can get one chicken and one pork and split ’em.”

      What did she care? With all the trouble he was causing her, she’d have boatloads of pent-up aggravation for working off the calories at the gym later. “Sure, with coleslaw. And double fries with gravy,” she added impulsively.

      Beaming proudly, Molly patted her back. “Good for you, hon. You only go around once, so you might as well eat what you want. These’ll be out shortly.”

      “Before you go, I was wondering who did your new sign. It’s really unique.”

      “Jenna Reed blew into town a few months back,” Molly explained. “She’s one of those traveling-artist types, y’know, the kind who sell their stuff at a roadside stand. Anyway, she came in here one day and asked if I knew anyone who was looking for some new signage.”

      “And you hired her,” Paul guessed. “Out of the goodness of your heart.”

      “The girl needed to pay her rent, and our old plaque was falling off the hooks. She didn’t charge much, and we get all kinds of compliments about it. I’d say we got the better end of the bargain.”

      “That sign at the mill is way past its prime,” Chelsea told Paul. “You might want to contact Jenna and see if she can help you out. You really need a logo to brand your products and marketing materials.”

      “Great idea.” Grabbing a napkin, he borrowed Molly’s pen and wrote down the woman’s info. Once she’d gone, he refolded his arms and leaned closer. “You’ve always been a by-the-numbers type. Where’d you pick up your eye for artistic stuff?”

      That he’d noticed the change, and obviously approved of it, gave her shaky ego a pleasant little boost. The fact that those deep brown eyes were twinkling at her had nothing to do with it, of course, but it was nice to be recognized for something she’d done rather than how pretty she looked. She got her fill of that at the bank, and it was refreshing to be praised for stepping out of her usual realm of expertise.

      “Marketing’s always interested me,” she confided for the very first time. Even her father didn’t know, because to him, banking was the only industry worth pursuing. “I like analyzing the unique aspects of a company and figuring out how to play them up to their best advantage.”

      “Like earlier, when you asked about my plans for promoting the mill,” he said as he filled their glasses with tea. “Do you do that often?”

      “Never.” Hearing the edge to her tone, she did her best to dial it back. “Our clients aren’t interested in my opinion on that kind of thing. They hire experts for that.”

      “Your mom was a real creative lady. You must’ve gotten your talent from her.”

      The mention of her long-absent mother hit Chelsea like a bucket of ice water, and she felt herself stiffen in self-defense. She recognized that it was absurd to tense up that way, but it was reflexive and she simply couldn’t help it. Hoping to disguise her reaction, she shrugged as if it didn’t matter much to her. “Probably.”

      “Where is she these days?”

      “Australia, with husband number four.” Or was it Austria? It had been months since her last email, and she honestly couldn’t recall where Mom had said they were living now.

      “Cool place. You should go visit her when you get a chance.”

      “I haven’t been invited,” Chelsea spat with more venom than she’d intended. Swallowing some tea, she went on. “Beyond that, I haven’t seen her since I was fourteen. After the divorce, she and Dad could hardly look at each other without snarling.”

      In truth, they’d been like that her entire life, and the breakup of their marriage had been a relief for all of them. Paul seemed to sense that, because the look on his face shifted from polite interest to genuine sympathy. Considering the fact that they’d been wrangling all morning, his compassion touched her deeply. In her fast-paced world, people flew past each other with a quick greeting, seldom pausing for a meaningful conversation. Something told her if she wanted to keep talking, he’d go right on listening, nodding and encouraging until she was finished. Part of her longed to do just that, but logic took over, reminding her the last thing she needed was to allow herself to become personally involved with a potential client. Especially this one.

      He’d be easier to dismiss if he were still the same arrogant jock she knew years ago. The kind, caring man who’d taken his place was a temptation any woman with a pulse would have a hard time resisting.

      * * *

      Chelsea twisted in her seat to survey the crowd. “I don’t see Fred anywhere.”

      “Must be out somewhere helping somebody else. I’ll give him a call after we order.” As if on cue, his cell phone rang, and he checked the caller ID. “It’s Gram. I can take it outside if you want.”

      The sudden worry that creased his forehead reinforced her hunch that there was more to the mill project than he’d claimed, and she waved away his offer. “No, go ahead.”

      “Hey, there. What’s up with my favorite girl today?” Listening for a few moments, his frown hardened with determination. “Is that right? Well, put the nurse on.” Another pause. “I realize you’re the professional here, but Will’s an eighty-five-year-old man who doesn’t know how much longer he’s got. If he wants barbecue ribs, he should have ’em. Yes, I take full responsibility for disobeying doctor’s orders. You’re welcome.”

      Will Barrett was dying.

      Reality struck her with the force of a physical blow, and Chelsea felt her heart seize in her chest. Too shocked for words, she gasped something even she couldn’t understand. Part shock, part sob, it was all she could manage, and Paul held up a hand to keep her from speaking.

      “Gram, we’re good to go, and I’ll bring a meal for you, too.” Checking the desserts board, he asked, “Rhubarb pie or triple berry? Got it. See ya soon.”

      Closing his phone, he clasped it in his hands, staring down at the maze place СКАЧАТЬ