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“Because you’ll be working here, I guess I’ll see you around,” she said as she flung on her coat. “Will you lock up?”
“I’m leaving now, too. I must get back to Grandmother’s. Ariane and I are staying there, for now.”
“Oh.” Abby trailed behind him to the back door and set the security alarm. But outside, standing on the step, she hesitated.
Donovan didn’t know why, so he waited.
“Does it seem weird to be back?” she whispered.
“It seems right,” he answered just as quietly. “God used George’s death to remind me of how much I need my family and their love and support in my life. Especially now that I’m to care for Ari.” He paused to study her. “I hope you can understand that, Abby.”
“Understand that family matters? Of course I understand that. Or are you trying to tell me that you’re not interested in picking up where we left off five years ago?” Her smile was hard and forced. “Believe me, Donovan, neither am I.”
He was making matters worse. Donovan wished he’d never left his office.
“My family is very important to me,” he said.
Abby jumped on that.
“So is mine. I might not have the family support that you have, Donovan, but the past five years have taught me one thing.” Sparks flew from Abby’s hazel eyes.
Donovan opened his mouth, but didn’t get a chance to speak.
“If I’m going to get to New York, I’m going to have to do it on my own. Alone.”
With that she walked away into the night.
Chapter Two
Abby’s words helped Donovan decide his course of action.
He would avoid her as much as possible while he figured out how to do his job and be a father to Ariane. Maybe later, somewhere along the way, he’d figure out a way to breach the chasm between them without getting caught up in the past.
It was a fine decision.
Unfortunately, his grandmother blew it out of the water on Thursday evening when she called him into the living room after he’d tucked in Ariane.
“Sit down, dear. I made some coffee.”
“You’re not supposed to be drinking coffee.” He shook his head at her. “And don’t say it’s for me. I don’t drink coffee this late at night.”
“I’m allowed this much.” Winifred liberally laced her half cup with cream. “Have you settled in? Ariane’s all right?”
“We’re fine, Grandmother. Thank you for hosting us.” She had something on her mind. He could see it in the sparks lighting her eyes. “I hope we’re not putting you out too much.”
“I’ll let you know when you do.” She tapped the spoon on her saucer twice before she set it down and leaned forward. “You and Abby talked? There aren’t going to be any problems between you?”
Not if he stayed away from her.
“Well, after five years, it was a little difficult to squeeze everything into a couple of fifteen-minute discussions,” he temporized. “But I’ve apologized and Abby said she didn’t want to hark back to the past. We’re both professionals. I think we can do our jobs at Weddings by Woodwards without conflict.”
“I see.” Winifred leaned back and sipped her coffee, her eagle eyes trained on him. “You never did clarify why you left town so quickly after proposing to the girl.”
And he wasn’t going to explain now.
“First you announced your engagement and then, bang, you were on the next flight to Europe, a job for which you had already turned me down.” Clearly Winifred wanted an explanation.
“I—uh, realized I’d made a mistake. So I corrected it.”
“The way you did it seemed kind of hard on Abby.”
“What did she say?” Donovan asked curiously.
“Abby?” Winifred shook her head. “Nothing to me. I overheard an argument between her and her mother that grad night. The next day, I learned she’d left for a short holiday. When she came back, she moved into her own place, put a smile on her lips and focused on whatever work I assigned her.”
“For the summer, you mean.” Just as he’d done, Donovan thought.
“From then until now. Abby’s never left Woodwards.”
Donovan sat up, confused.
“But what about when she went to college?”
“Abby didn’t go to college.” Winifred frowned. “She’s taken a number of courses over the past few years, of course. She’s fully qualified as a jewelry designer. But she never formally attended college. She’s always focused on her work.”
“Because her career is so important to her.” For five years Donovan had prayed hard for the bitterness to leave. Guess that needed more work.
“I’m not sure that was true back then. She seemed to need the work to give herself focus five years ago.” Winifred smiled. “But she’s certainly career-oriented now. Not that I’m complaining. Abby is the best thing to happen to our jewelry department.”
Something didn’t make sense. Abby had won a full college scholarship. Why hadn’t she gone?
Winifred set down her cup.
“Actually, Abby is why I wanted to speak to you, Donovan.”
“Oh?” Trepidation climbed up his neck.
“I know that girl is going places. She has the drive and she has the capability. Before she does, I want to use her skills, and yours, to make some changes in our jewelry department. I want the two of you to come up with some kind of campaign or revamping of ideas—something that will give Woodwards Jewelry a whole new look. In short, I want you two to work together.”
Donovan went cold.
“Grandmother, you’ve already asked me to put together a national campaign. I’m not sure I can manage that and—”
“Aren’t you the marketing guru who said he had a thousand ideas?” Winifred’s perceptive gaze narrowed. “I want the jewelry department modernized, Donovan. If two projects are too much for you, we’ll put the national one on hold.”
She was shrewd. Donovan knew there was no way to avoid this assignment without admitting to his grandmother that he’d never resolved exactly how he felt toward Abby.
“Unless there’s some reason why you can’t work with her.” Those all-seeing eyes dared him to argue.
“If that’s what you want, Grandmother, then that is what I’ll work toward. I can’t help thinking though, that Abby is already swamped. And now she’s entered this contest.” He told her what little he knew about it. “With her parents’ situation, I know she’s struggling to fit in enough time to work on her first entry.” Donovan slouched into his chair and fiddled with his shoelace, pretending nonchalance.
“I’m glad she’s entered it,” Winifred said with satisfaction. “She has talent. Loads of it.”
“Of course preparing for the New York contest will be on her own time, but still, it’s a lot to ask of her to help revamp her department right now, isn’t it?” Donovan said.
Winifred was not put off.
“You and Abby are both idea people. I’m sure that with your creative gifts combined you’ll come up with something fantastic.” Winifred sipped her coffee, closing her eyes to savor the last drop. Then she reluctantly set cup and saucer back on the tray. “One of the things I most regret about this old heart wearing out is cutting down on my coffee.”
Because he could see weariness creeping over her smooth porcelain face, Donovan stifled the other arguments he’d lined up.
“When would you like us to start?” he asked quietly.
“The sooner the better. Perhaps you can talk to Abby about it tomorrow, do some preliminary work. She’s been in charge of the department long enough, I’m certain she has ideas of her own. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of weeks to put together some kind of generalized plan, should it?”
Two weeks? That left him no opportunity to avoid Abby. Donovan searched for some excuse to explain the intricacies of his work to Winifred and realized there wasn’t any point. Only someone who had spent days, weeks and months knitting ideas together into one solid focus would understand that overnight successes of the marketing variety seldom happened.
“I think it’s better if you don’t put a time frame on it, Grandmother. I don’t know what ideas Abby might have, but I will need time to take a look at the department. I always like to allow things to percolate inside my head before I start planning a campaign.” Donovan watched her eyes narrow and knew what she was thinking. “I’m not trying to weasel out of this or to put you off. But I hadn’t really considered any kind of marketing plan for the jewelry department. I’ve been focusing more on the company in general.”
“And you need time to switch gears,” she murmured.
“Yes.”
Her stare was intense.
“You’re sure it’s not working with Abby that has you bothered?”
“Why should it be? I hope we can be friends again, but there’s nothing between us. We each have our own lives now and my focus is on Ariane.” Donovan forced out the image of Abby storming away from him.
Avoiding her shouldn’t be that difficult.
“However, I do think it would be better if you explained this idea to her, rather than me,” Donovan suggested. “After all, I’m the new guy and you’re the boss returning to work after a long hiatus. You should be pointing out the new direction for the company.”
Winifred said nothing as she studied him. But Donovan could almost hear her clicking over details in her mind.
“Fine. I’ll talk to her. I just hope your past isn’t going to cause problems.”
“You don’t have to worry, Grandmother.”
But as he sat in his room later, Donovan’s confidence slipped. Although he preferred to pretend the past was dead, it was obvious he and Abby both had issues that needed resolving.
Abby might prefer to pretend their breakup was his fault, but he knew differently and he didn’t understand why she tried to lay it all on him. A hard core of resentment balled a little tighter inside Donovan’s heart.
But bitterness did no one any good. George’s death had been God’s wake-up call, a challenge to stop wasting his life as a good-times guy, skating over the surface, reveling in the good times and avoiding the bad.
Donovan was determined not to ignore that call anymore. He picked up his Bible and read a few verses, hoping to ease the knot of anger at Abby’s pretense that he’d run out on her with no reason. But the words blurred together and he knew there was only one Person who could truly help.
“Father, you know how hard it was for me to come back. You also know how much I need help with Ariane. Please help me to look forward to the future you promised, and let go of the past and anger at Abby. Amen.”
As prayers went, it wasn’t fancy, but Donovan was learning that God preferred honesty over pretense.
He wished Abby felt the same.
“Abby, I can’t thank you enough for helping me decorate for Grandmother’s party.”
“My pleasure.” Abby attached the last swag to the corner of the dais and ignored a little voice inside her head that said she should be working on her contest entry. “How does that look?”
“Perfect!” Sara, Donovan’s youngest sister, stood back and admired their handiwork in the ballroom at Weddings by Woodwards. “Once Dad brings in his flowers and everyone’s here, the place will come alive. Don’t you think?”
“Absolutely.” Abby felt dumpy and dowdy, doubly so against Sara’s blond glistening beauty.
“Donovan took us all by surprise, coming home the way he did.” Sara grinned. “He’s always been so adamant about staying in Europe. But I’m glad he’s back. And I’m thrilled Grandmother’s well enough to return, too. My big sister is getting too intense,” she whispered as Katie pushed through the doors.
“I heard that, brat.” Katie made a face at Sara, then turned to her. “Abby, how is your mother?”
“She’ll be sore for a while. The osteoporosis has really left her bones weak which is why her vertebrae crushed so easily when she fell down the steps.” Which only added to the list of things on Abby’s already overly full plate. “Thanks for understanding about yesterday, Katie. I just couldn’t get in.”
“Of course not. Family comes first.” Katie scanned the room. “Wow! You two have done a wonderful job for our double celebration tonight. We’ll be a big group. I’ve given the kitchen staff the evening off so they can join us.”
“So who’s feeding us?” Sara demanded.
“Caterers. They should be here soon.”
“That’s my cue to get going.” Abby headed for the door.
“Going? But you’ll be here for the party, won’t you?” Sara’s big eyes probed.
“Won’t you, Abby?” Katie asked.
“Sure. I just have a few things on my desk to tidy up.” And then she’d quietly slip away.
“You’re always working overtime. Katie won’t care if you take the last hour to go home and change. Will you, Katie?”
“Of course not. You must be here, Abby. You’re part of Woodwards. Excuse me. I’m to check on a certain string quartet Grandmother loves.” Katie hurried away.
“Thank goodness she’s gone. My feet are killing me.”
“I wonder why?” Abby chuckled, glancing at the very high heels Sara wore. “You borrowed Katie’s shoes again?”
“My sister has such lovely shoes and they make me look elegant, which is not an easy feat, trust me. But they’re sheer torture. I can’t imagine how she wears them all day.” She kicked off the offending articles with great relief. “That’s better.”
“Sara, if you don’t like the way the shoes feel, why do you wear them?” Abby had always found Donovan’s youngest sister confusing.
“Because I want to look beautiful for my husband.” Sara’s flushed cheeks and eyes glittering with unshed tears gave her away. “Although if I trip and fall flat on my face, I guess I won’t be so elegant. And he’ll be furious.”
“Furious? That doesn’t sound right. Cade loves you.” A twig of envy sprouted inside Abby’s heart. “Very much. I can’t believe he’d be angry with you.”
“He does love me and I know it.” Sara sniffed inelegantly. “But in a little while I’ll be so huge I won’t be able to see my toenails, let alone fit into shoes like these. Just for now I want to be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.”
