Emily folded her arms across her chest. “What do you like about this woman, Grant?”
There was so much, he wasn’t sure where to start. “She’s smart. Funny. Spirited. When I’m with her I like who I am and how she makes me feel.”
Willa continued to look him over with a critical eye. “That’s better, but if she went to see him to tell him about the baby and he dismissed her as average . . .”
“I didn’t dismiss her. She ran off. I was simply explaining—” He reviewed the conversation they’d had and stopped. Shit. “Oh, my God. She must think I’m an asshole.”
“Probably,” Helene agreed. “But on the good side, you’re not. So, all we have to do is prove that to her.”
“Should we go with him?” Kenzi asked. “Vouch for him?”
Lord save me. “No one is—”
“No, he needs to do this himself for her to respect him,” Emily said.
Thank you.
“Do we trust him to not mess this up?” Kenzi asked.
Helene waved a hand in the air. “He was doing something right, or she wouldn’t be pregnant.”
Enough. Grant opened the door to his car and slid inside. He closed it, but rolled the window down. “I love you all for caring, but I can handle this. I’ll call you with an update after we work things out.”
Kenzi leaned down next to the window. “Grant, I’m sorry I made it sound like not looking for Kent meant you didn’t care. We all know you do.”
Grant started his car. “Thank you. I can’t straddle both. This is too important to me.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “You’ve got this.” She straightened and added, “But call us if things get dicey. And don’t talk about money with her. I know you do it because that’s how you show you care, but focus on her and the baby. Just keep telling her you care, and it’ll work out.”
“Tell her you love her,” Helene said.
“I’d prefer to wait until I’m certain I feel that way—”
“Don’t say that either.” Emily waved. “I’ll have Asher call you.”
“There’s no—” Maybe there is need. After all, he made it to the altar. “Fine. Now I really do have to go.”
He made the mistake of looking into his rearview mirror before he drove off. Although they were all waving goodbye, they each looked concerned enough that he had a moment of doubt.
What if Viviana was too angry to see him?
Male confidence surged forward to save him.
Then I’ll just change her mind.
“Come in,” Viviana called out while finishing entering an invoice for the rental of a bulldozer in her office trailer. She glanced down at the yellow sundress and sandals she’d purchased on impulse. She’d already found a small apartment of her own and was discovering who she was when she stopped worrying about what she was supposed to be. A year ago sitting at this desk had felt confining, now the familiarity of it brought her comfort. Being here now is my choice.
The door opened and Gerald, one of her father’s oldest employees, entered. He was past retirement age, but he’d said he had little to go home to and preferred to keep working with a lighter workload. He was presently a glorified delivery man—which sometimes included coffee and lunches—but he never seemed to mind. Retaining Gerald as an employee, even though his most productive years had ended long ago, exemplified what Viviana admired about her father: he was a strong man with a loyal, caring side.
Gerald approached Viviana’s desk with a shyness she didn’t normally associate with him. “You busy, Viv?”
Viviana turned from her computer and stood. “Never too busy for you, Gerald. What’s up?”
He sat in the seat before her desk and smacked his hands on his jean-clad thighs, adding a puff of dust to the office. “Are you looking for a husband?”
Viviana coughed in surprise. “Not right this moment.”
Gerald cleared his throat. “Sue Wickers was at the pharmacy when you bought pre-natal vitamins.”
With a groan, Viviana sat heavily back onto her seat. I grew up here. Why did I think for a second I would be as anonymous as I was in Boston?
Gerald removed his baseball hat, folding and unfolding it in his hands as he continued, “She told Claire at the donut shop. Claire’s son, James, is graduating from college this year with a master’s degree in education. She asked me if there was a father in the picture because her son has always had a sweet spot for you. I said I didn’t know. I hadn’t heard that you were expecting. I said you might have been buying the vitamins for a friend. No one is looking to upset you, but a couple of the crew might also toss their hat into the ring if you’ve found yourself in a difficult situation and it’s something you’re not wanting to go through alone.”
Viviana didn’t say anything at first as she rode out a wave of sheer embarrassment. If Gerald knew, then everyone in town knew. And, apparently, there was a mortifying number who felt sorry enough for her to make this even more awkward. “That’s so generous of everyone, but I’m fine.”
Gerald made a pained face. “I’ve made you feel bad. I didn’t mean to. I’d offer to marry you myself if I were forty years younger.”
Oh. Now I’m going to cry. Viviana went over to sit in the chair beside him. Gerald didn’t have a mean bone in his body, and he wasn’t one to talk about this kind of thing. He was there because he cared. She gave him what she hoped was her sweetest smile. “And I would have scared the shit out of you by accepting.”
He cackled at that then became serious again. “Are you really pregnant, Viv?”
“Yes. It wasn’t something I was going to announce yet, though.”
“And the baby’s daddy?”
Someone else might have found his questions impolite, but Viviana had grown up with him. Half the swears she knew she’d learned from following him around the site. “He won’t be in the picture.”
“Then he’s a fucking idiot,” Gerald announced.
“Yes,” Viviana agreed, even though that wasn’t the way she wanted to remember him. She was still trying not to think of him at all. “Tell everyone they don’t have to worry about me, though. I’m doing okay. Hard as it may be to believe, I missed your sorry asses, and I’m happy to be back.”
Gerald cackled again. “Not surprising at all, some of us have mighty fine asses regardless of our ages.”
Viviana laughed at that. There was a fun swagger to the men she’d grown up around. It was harmless and something she hadn’t realized was so funny until it hadn’t been part of her life anymore. She sat back with a smile and reflected on what he’d come to tell her. “Could you also please spread the message that, although the idea of sympathy proposals is sweet, they’re not necessary?”
Looking her straight in the eye, Gerald asked seriously, “What sympathy are you talking about? Half the men in town have been mooning over you since you kicked their butts in high school. They’ve been panting for you to have a reason you might need one of them. Strength in a woman is good, but you’ve been so damned independent for so long, none of them thought they had anything to offer you.”
“Independent? I was living with my dad until I moved away.”
“Because you give all your money to the Cairo Mercy Foundation. You’re softhearted. There’s a lot of people in this town who are grateful to you for what you’ve done for them through those grants.”
“Their gratitude belongs with my mother. She founded it.”
“But you’ve funded it.”
Viviana shrugged. “Sometimes. Mostly it is self-sufficient since people pay back into it when they can.”
“James used a grant from the foundation to finish college. Now he’s coming home single and grateful. Rumor is he
’s handsome, too.”
Oh, boy. “I’m not looking for a husband, Gerry.”
“But would you be offended by some flowers? A few date requests? I’m only asking you because people keep asking me.”
Her first reaction was to say no, but she didn’t voice it. Why not? I’m single. She couldn’t imagine feeling anything for anyone, but she’d told herself her return home wasn’t a defeat. So, why hang my head and hide? “I’ve never gotten flowers,” she said honestly. “That might actually be nice.”
Gerald nodded, stood, and replaced his hat. “I’ll pass the word.”
Viviana almost told him not to. She wavered on whether or not she wanted to open that door, but she reminded herself of something Audrey had once said, “The best way to get over a man is to find a new one.”
Memories of how it had been to be with Grant tumbled through her thoughts. Even as she said goodbye to Gerald, she fought to push back a yearning she told herself was a waste of time. Don’t think about him. When it was good it wasn’t real, and when it was real it definitely wasn’t good.
Let him go.
Chapter Twelve
‡
Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, Grant stopped at a florist shop on his drive from a small private airfield to Cairo, New York where Viviana lived. He’d had a rental car delivered and told his helicopter pilot to not expect to hear from him until the next day. He was feeling confident when he walked up to the cashier and asked, “What kind of bouquet do you give a woman to subtly announce that your intentions are serious?”
The short, middle-aged, redhead with a thousand freckles and a huge smile, called to the backroom, “Looks like we’ve got another one.”
“Another one?” Grant asked. Although he’d given flowers to women in the past, he’d always had his secretary order them. Walking into a florist shop himself was part of what made the trip more exciting. I’m out here with regular people doing regular things.
