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Ariane wailed a little more. Only it wasn’t really a wail. More like a soft, mewling cry.
“Honey, if you’ll just tell me what’s wrong, I’ll fix it. Do your shoes hurt?” Another shake of that dark glossy head left Donovan looking completely mystified and adorably uncertain.
Although she longed to ignore them both, Abby had to help.
“Hello, Ariane. Donovan. Can I help?”
“I don’t think so, thanks, Abby. Something’s wrong, but—” He stopped as Ariane walked over and threaded her hand into Abby’s. “Oh.”
“I have some drawing crayons in my office,” Abby mused. “Why don’t you come and draw me a picture while we figure out what’s got you so upset?”
Ariane nodded and after a reproachful look at Donovan, walked beside Abby to her office. Seated in a chair, she waited until Abby handed her crayons and some paper. Then her eyes moved to Abby’s ring for the contest. She poked at it curiously, picked it up and slid it on her finger.
Donovan stepped forward as if to stop her, but Abby rested a hand on his arm.
“Wait,” she murmured.
Ariane studied the ring for several moments. Then she put it back and began drawing a representation of it but with added swirls that resembled a flower circling the stone. It took Abby several moments to recognize a gardenia—Winifred’s favorite flower. Did the girl know Art had commissioned the ring for Winifred?
Ariane held up the paper for her to see.
“It’s lovely. May I use it in my design?”
Ariane nodded.
“Good. Now, tell me what’s wrong.” Judging by Ariane’s frown, this was touchy territory. Abby got the ball rolling. “Today’s your first day of school, isn’t it?”
The little girl nodded while big tears dripped down her cheeks.
“But that’s not a sad time. School is fun. You’ll see.” Abby hunched down beside her. “There are lots of books. Do you know how to read?”
Ariane nodded, sniffed.
“She loves stories,” Donovan added.
“And there’s playtime. And craft time. You’ll be good at that.” She touched the girl’s cheek, dabbed at her tears. “You’ll learn lots and lots of new fun things. I did.”
Ariane grabbed another paper. Did you wear a uniform? she printed in a childish scrawl.
“Yes. So did Donovan.”
Ariane tilted her head to see if it was true.
“Abby’s was always clean. Mine got a little dingy.” His funny face made Ariane giggle.
“I suspect you’ll be very popular at school, Ariane. Just like Donovan was.”
“Abby always got the best marks. She beat me in spelling. But I beat her in baseball.” Donovan winked at Ariane who glanced from him to Abby, her confusion evident.
“We got to be friends. When you go to school, you’ll find a friend, too. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Ariane’s bottom lip thrust out. Abby glanced at Donovan. But he was clearly confused by the girl’s distress and couldn’t help. Abby tried again.
“Wouldn’t you like to go just to see who’s there?” She crossed her fingers.
Ariane shook her head.
“But how can you know what might happen if you never try something?” Abby wasn’t sure how to approach this. Being an only child didn’t offer a lot of knowledge about kids.
“Keep going,” Donovan urged.
Abby shot him a glare. As if she didn’t have enough to do. But suddenly she had an idea.
“Do you like ice cream, Ariane?”
Ariane nodded eagerly.
“You had to eat an ice-cream cone first to know you liked it, right? It’s the same with school,” Abby said.
Ariane’s glowering glare said she wasn’t buying Abby’s train of thought.
Abby looked to Donovan for help. Worry colored his eyes and spread fine lines over his forehead. He would be no help.
“What flavors of ice cream do you like?”
Ariane drew a cone with ice cream with brown dots.
“Chocolate chip?” Abby grinned when the child nodded. “What other kinds?”
Ariane frowned, poked at the cone she’d drawn.
“Yeah, I know. But there are lots more ice-cream flavors than that. I often try a new one, just in case I might find something better than butter pecan. It’s my favorite.” Abby picked up a crayon and drew a cone with a pink top. “Strawberry. Peach. Fudge, they’re all pretty good, but butter pecan is the best. Do you like these flavors?”
Ariane pointed to the fudge and the strawberry.
“You don’t like peach?”
Ariane’s shrug said she’d never tried it.
“I like peach. And pistachio. That’s my favorite.” Donovan was getting into the game. “Do you like pistachio, Ari?”
She frowned, thought about it then half shook her head no.
“How do you know?” Abby asked. “Did you try some?”
The little girl crossed her arms across her thin chest, leaned back and glared at them both. She wasn’t going to be easily persuaded. Abby didn’t want to alienate her, but she had to emphasize what she might miss, so she pressed on.
“I know two boys, your cousins, who love bubblegum ice cream. Lots of kids do. You probably would, too,” Abby mused, “if you tried some. Just as you’d like school, if you tried it.”
The dark head gave a very emphatic negative shake.
“Really? You’re sure about that?”
Ariane wasn’t backing down.
“You’re positive? You won’t change your mind and love it later?”
Ariane’s head moved from side to side as her jaw tightened.
“I don’t think that’s true. I think you’re afraid.”
Donovan caught his breath and shifted, but Abby stepped sideways so Ariane couldn’t see him. She kept speaking.
“I think you’re terrified, Ariane. And I don’t like that. You know why?” She waited a moment. “Because being afraid isn’t a good enough reason to miss out on stuff. So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to dare you to go to your first day of school. I’m going to double dare you to go and meet the other kids and the teachers and go to all the classes. What do you think of that?”
It was a gamble that the child would understand the concept of a dare, but it paid off. Clearly Ariane got it. She glared at Abby, but her face showed she was listening. Abby crouched down in front of her and took one hand, folding it into her own.
“I can’t imagine someone who comes to Denver all the way from Paris can possibly be afraid of school. You have schools in Paris, don’t you?”
Ariane nodded.
“And I bet some kids wear uniforms to them, too, don’t they?”
Another nod.
“In fact, you’re pretty experienced and school isn’t such a big deal for you at all.” Abby let the words drop away in the room’s silence watching as Ariane’s shoulders lifted in growing confidence.
Her big brown eyes studied Abby for several moments more. Finally, Ariane pulled her hand from Abby’s, walked over to Donovan and put her tiny hand in his.
“So you’re taking my dare?” Abby kept her face impassive as Ariane nodded. “Okay. So if you’re wrong and you do like school, I win a huge ice cream cone. Butter pecan. And you have to buy it, right?”
Ariane glanced at Donovan and rolled her eyes as if to say “Adults are so lame.”
“Yep, that’s the deal.” Donovan winked at Ariane.
“And if I’m wrong and Ariane doesn’t like the school, I’ll have to buy her a different flavored ice-cream cone for the next four Saturdays. Agreed?”
Donovan nodded, but Ariane’s confidence was clearly wobbling.
Abby faked a frown.
“You know, just to make sure you two don’t try and pull one over on me and pretend you win, I think I better go along and see for myself. Buying so many ice creams could be costly and I don’t want to work any more overtime.”
“Abby, that isn’t necess—”
Ariane grabbed her backpack. The thunderclouds dissipated from her face.
“I don’t believe this.” Donovan shook his head. “Now you’re ready to go?”
She nodded, grinned.
“Never turn down a dare, huh?”
She scribbled I like choc’lat ice cream.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” He sighed, shook his head. “If you’re sure you can spare the time, Abby, let’s go. School starts soon.”
No backing out now. Abby grabbed her purse and followed them after locking her office door. On the ride to the school, she told silly jokes she’d overheard Brett and Brady regale their sister Emily with. That seemed to help Ariane forget the miles for a time.
She glowered when they pulled into the parking lot, but with one little hand firmly embedded in Donovan’s and one in Abby’s, she climbed the stairs, determination written all over her face.
The teacher had been well apprised of Ariane’s situation and used a creative and unusual way to involve the little girl in the class activities. So engrossed did Ariane become that half an hour later, when Donovan tapped her on the shoulder to tell her he’d see her later, she simply fluttered her fingers and went back to work assembling the puzzle she’d been given, although she did spare a big smile for Abby.
“You owe me a double butter pecan.” Abby brushed a hand against the glossy dark hair, then followed Donovan from the room and to the car.
“That went well. Where did you learn to deal with little girls?” he asked as he pulled out of the parking lot. He made it sound as if she inhabited Mars where children weren’t allowed.
“I was one, remember?” Abby frowned. “I had second thoughts about the first day of school, too.”
“What did your parents do to reassure you?”
“Told me about all the lovely science courses I could take.” She deadpanned a look at him. “I chose the painting corner.”
“Were you good at painting?”
“Better at getting paint all over myself. Not a good thing.”
He chuckled at the image she’d created. Silence stretched until her nerves screamed a protest. She had to break it.
“How’s your work going?”
“It’s different than I expected.” Donovan frowned for a minute. “Everyone is so used to the agency’s way of handling our PR that trying to spring new ideas is hard work. But I’ll get there.”
“I’m sure you will. What kind of ideas?”
His face altered as if he hesitated to say what was really on his mind.
“Donovan?” Her stomach clenched. Something was up.
“Grandmother is supposed to be the one to tell you this, but I’m guessing she hasn’t gotten around to it yet.”
“To what?” Her forehead pleated in a frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. She just wants us to work together and come up with a new image for the jewelry department at Woodwards.” He held his breath, hoping Abby wouldn’t flatly decline.
“Work together? Us?” She frowned. “I don’t know anything about marketing.”
“But you know a lot about the jewelry department.”
