“You shouldn’t,” he said adamantly, touched by her distress. “Our general deal is that you watch Button evenings and weekends, while I’m busy at the bistro. The weekdays are all yours, to follow your own schedule, no matter what.”
“I don’t expect that, and you shouldn’t guarantee it.”
He chuckled, gazing upon the bundle in his arms. “Guess you’re right.”
Button stirred in his arms then. Focusing on Kyle, she threw her arms around him. “You come back.”
“I always come back, honey.”
She pressed her soft little nose against his. “No heaven, Daddy.”
“Now, Button,” Amelia reasoned succinctly, “your father is not going to heaven any day soon. He was delivering a cake. You know that.”
Kyle squeezed her tight, exchanging a concerned look with Amelia. Button had been so insecure since Libby’s death, afraid she’d lose him to heaven too. “You did a good job on the cake, baby. Grace loved it.”
She set her chin stubbornly. “How’s Kitty?”
“Kitty was sound asleep, just like you should be.”
“My kitty,” she whispered fiercely.
“No, Button. You can visit Kitty, but she belongs to Grace.”
With pouty lips she crashed against Kyle’s shoulder and fell back asleep. He expelled a lung full of air. “That went well.”
Amelia regarded him sympathetically. “Lighten up. Isn’t your fault you got dealt this bad deck. Most fathers can slip away a few hours and not be concerned that their three-year-old will write them off as dead. It’s no one’s fault. We’re just left with…a situation. One we can surely handle.”
Kyle tried to appear convinced.
Chapter Four
Michael North was backing his dark green Porsche out of the garage the following morning, when Grace’s adjoining garage door began to rise. Quite an unusual sight so early on a Saturday. Unable to resist confronting her, he braked on their mutual driveway and shut off his engine.
He ambled into the garage to discover her standing by the driver’s door of her silver BMW. Dressed in aqua capris and a matching striped cropped top, a tote bag and melon work smock in her arms, she definitely had plans.
“So it is you.”
Startled, she asked, “Who else?”
“I don’t know, thought maybe the opener mechanism short-circuited.”
“Ha-ha.”
He chuckled. “Admit it, you normally don’t see the a.m. side of Saturday very often.”
“Oh. Well, I have several errands to take care of. Need an early start.”
“Kyle on your list?”
“Huh?”
“I saw his Jeep parked here last night.”
Grace moved closer to the open door blinking sheepishly in the sunshine. “You saw that?”
“I did. After all your whining about him at the party, you turn right around and throw out the welcome mat.”
She smiled dreamily. “Had an unexpected change of heart. He brought me the nicest cake! Made it himself…”
“Like you deserved it, telling Dad about my investing in the bistro.”
“I might regret that little admission. But you gave me such a hard time yesterday. Back with Kyle and you’re a team, playing the same old tricks, treating me like a kid.”
He had the grace to look guilty. “Sorry.”
“And Father was bound to find out soon enough.” She patted the shoulder of his suit jacket. “Just don’t let him bully you out of the deal.”
“Don’t worry. I’m hyped about the project. It’s so different from the sedate work at the firm. I am looking forward to the change.”
“I like the way you’ve decided to buck the North system a bit, chasing a separate dream without Father’s stamp of preapproval.”
Her ruthless assessment irritated him. “You only hope I’ll take some of the heat off your stunts.”
“Of course!” She glanced at her watch. “Now I really—”
“What can you possibly be doing for Kyle? He need a baby-sitter?”
“No!” She looked a bit terrified. “Button can barely stand me.”
“Oh, you gotta give her a chance. She was shy with me at first, but it got better. Now we’re buddies.”
“No, I’m working in safer territory. Kyle needs wallpaper advice, so I’ve agreed to bring some sample books round to the bistro.”
“Is he stripping paper today?” Michael demanded in surprise.
She reared. “Sounded like it.”
Michael slammed a fist into his palm. “Damn, he’s proud. He knows I want to help him with those jobs, yet he keeps me in the dark.”
“I imagine he wants to make it look its best, to impress you.”
“But I don’t need—”
Grace’s cell phone rang in her tote. “Hang on here.” She dug around for the slim folded instrument. “Hello, Dickie. I was going to call you. Yes, I’m still on for tennis, but don’t come for me early. I’m off to pick out some wallpaper for the bistro and need time. Yes, things are moving along. Michael?” She eyed her brother. “We’re talking right now. My opinion? About what?” As she listened, Michael began to wave his arms in protest. “I’m a bit surprised, Dickie—I’ll discuss it with him. See you about four.”
She disconnected the line and dropped the phone back in her tote bag. “Dickie wants to be an investor in Amelia’s Bistro?”
Michael made a boyish face of discontent. “Said so last night after you dropped the bomb about my investing.”
“Seems strange.”
“It did until I thought it through. The odd kid out makes good as an adult and now wants to show off, be a part of what he missed.”
“Oh. Suppose that does make sense. His voice did a crack a little when we were discussing the past after my party. People really called him Mr. Pock? Can’t remember that myself.”
“I remember. But aside from the family get-togethers, I had little to do with him. Mostly because he was younger than my friends.”
“And older than mine.”
“In any case, I was not responsible for any name-calling.”
“Of course not. We never watched Star Trek in the first place, so wouldn’t have quite understood the name.”
“Bottom line, Gracie, he’s not welcome in this venture. I’d tell anyone the same. Kyle is battling with his pride as it is, accepting iron Amelia’s assistance. He wants to accomplish something for himself. The last thing he’s trolling for is another investor of any kind.”
“Too many cooks spoil the broth?”
“Something like that.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem to just tell Dickie no.”
“Really? Haven’t you noticed he is getting pushier and pushier, niggling