“Fanny,” he called as he headed for the kitchen. “Did you make enough hot chocolate for me?”
Chapter Three
Georgie didn’t believe in spending a lot of time packing. Most of the time, she just threw clothes into her trusty old duffel bag on wheels and figured what she didn’t have she would simply go without. And in this case—preparing for an assignment in New York—she could certainly buy anything she needed.
Still … it was winter, and New York was a lot colder than Seattle. Looking at the Weather Channel’s website, she saw that the median temperature this month was hovering around forty degrees. Just her luck. If she had to go to New York, couldn’t Alex at least have sent her in the spring? Or in the fall, which Georgie had been told was probably the most attractive time of the year in Manhattan?
She eyed the clothing she’d piled on her bed. She’d thrown her down parka in the mix and the boots she’d bought last winter in preparation for her trip to Korea. But she didn’t own a nice winter coat, certainly nothing suitable for meeting with potential donors and grant recipients, plus it wouldn’t have fit into the duffel even if she did own one. So she’d definitely have to buy a coat when she got to New York.
“Oh, shoot. I don’t want to do this.”
Even as she muttered the words, she knew she was wasting time and energy on her negative feelings about this assignment. And that was unlike her. What was it about going to New York that was so bad? She’d never been there before, and she’d always wanted to visit. Yeah, but this isn’t a visit. Still, she’d agreed, and she couldn’t change that now. And Alex had promised her time there would only be temporary.
If all went well, they’d find a permanent assistant for Zachary Prince quickly, and Georgie wouldn’t have to stay long at all. And yet … she couldn’t help thinking there must be some reason other than what Alex had given her about why they hadn’t yet been able to find an assistant. Was Zachary Prince difficult to work with? Maybe he was a pain in the butt and Alex hadn’t wanted to say so.
Then she told herself she was doing exactly what Alex had told her not to do. She was being paranoid. Granted, this time her paranoia had nothing to do with her mother, but still …
Lecturing herself to stop borrowing trouble and to think positive, she continued packing. She was almost finished when her cell phone, playing Chris Brown’s “Forever,” sounded from where she’d placed it on her dresser. The song signaled Joanna calling.
“How’s my BFF today?” Georgie said by way of greeting.
“Exhausted.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Too busy, too little time.” Joanna was a struggling fashion designer in the Seattle area, and she was always racing to beat a deadline.
“What else is new?” Georgie abandoned the packing and walked over to the window overlooking the parklike grounds adjacent to her condominium. Below she saw a young couple walking with their arms around each other.
“Nothing, really. Just wanted to see how things were going with you. How was the party last night?” Joanna was referring to Frankie’s engagement party to Eli Wolf.
“It was really nice.”
“And what about Thursday’s farewell lunch with your mother?”
“I enjoyed it. At least this time Mom wasn’t upset. At least, not with me.”
“Who was she upset with?”
“Uncle Harry.”
“What’s the poor guy done now?”
“It’s not what he’s done, it’s what he hasn’t done.” Georgie was still amazed at what her mother had revealed right before Christmas. “Joanna, remember when I told you what my mother told me and my sisters? About Uncle Harry and how she’d once had a thing for him? She made it sound like that was in the distant past, but I think she might really be in love with him.”
“Did she say that?”
“She didn’t have to say it. She was talking about him and some dinner he’d taken her to, and all of a sudden it seemed so obvious I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realized it before.”
“I thought he was more like her brother or something. Didn’t you tell me she and your dad and Harry Hunt were like The three Musketeers when they were young? And she picked your dad.”
Joanna didn’t have to say what Harry had done. They both knew the story. Harry had picked one gorgeous model or actress after another, gold diggers all—at least, in his estimation. Each short-lived marriage had produced one son, and Harry Hunt had gotten sole custody of each of them.
“That’s what we all thought,” Georgie said. “But maybe we don’t know the whole story.”
“You mean you think she’s always loved Harry? And not your dad?”
“No, I don’t believe that. I think she loved my dad. But maybe she loved Uncle Harry first. Or maybe … after Dad died …”
“Did you ask her about her feelings yesterday?”
“Good grief, no. You know how private my mother is. Besides, it wasn’t like she’d said anything directly. And, I don’t know, I felt funny about it. Like maybe it was none of my business.”
“Wow,” Joanna said, amusement in her voice. “I think that’s the first time since I met you that you thought something wasn’t your business.”
“Oh, stuff it,” Georgie said, laughing. But she knew Joanna wasn’t far wrong.
“You know,” Joanna said, “maybe this explains why Harry got so weird about your mother dating that golf pro from the club.”
“You’re probably right. Here I thought he was just worried because the guy’s so much younger than my mother. But maybe he was actually jealous!”
“It’s possible. I know Chick can’t stand it when I even look at anyone else.”
Georgie nodded, even though Joanna couldn’t see her. “It all makes sense now. There’s got to be some kind of history here, something my sisters and I never suspected.”
“Oh, Georgie. It’s terribly romantic, isn’t it? Maybe they’ve been pining for each other for years. I know! Why don’t you and your sisters turn the tables on them and try to get them together? I mean, they were trying their darnedest to fix you guys up. Why not fix them up, because, Lord knows, if you don’t, they might never get it right.”
Georgie laughed. “It would serve them right, wouldn’t it? But think about it. What could we actually do? It’s not like we can plop them down on a desert island or something.”
“No, but you can maybe nudge them along a bit.”
“I’m afraid my sisters will have to do the nudging, ‘cause I’ll be in New York.” Glancing at the digital alarm sitting on her bedside table, she added, “Speaking of, I’d better get a move on. My flight leaves at noon, and I still have to finish packing and get a shower.”
“Okay, I’ll let you go. Safe trip.”
“Thanks.” After promising to call or text Joanna as soon as she hit LaGuardia, they said goodbye.
Fifteen minutes later, duffel packed, laptop and cell phone charging, Georgie headed for the shower.
Katie, Zach’s ten-year-old, kept Zach up half the night with a sore throat and a fever. On any other day, even if he had work stacked to the ceiling, Zach would have taken the morning off—maybe even the entire day—and taken his daughter to the doctor himself. But today was the day Georgie Fairchild was to report to work, so he reluctantly agreed that Fanny could take Katie