Blossom Street (Books 1-10). Debbie Macomber. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Debbie Macomber
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472083906
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likely to talk about it in front of Paul.

      “Everything’s just great,” he said but his words rang hollow.

      The two men stared at each other.

      “Andrew said you paid for his football camp.” Grant turned his attention back to her.

      Bethanne hadn’t realized Andrew was speaking to his father. This was a good sign, and she was encouraged that father and son had made an effort to overcome their differences.

      “You challenged me to find a way to support myself,” Bethanne said with a laugh, “and I have. If nothing else, I should thank you for that.”

      He nodded as if accepting her appreciation. “I’m glad it’s working out for you,” he said without irony.

      “It is.” She tried to resist the urge to brag but didn’t quite succeed. “I have six parties booked for this week and more calls coming in every day. Annie and a friend of hers created business cards for me, and the kids have been my assistants.”

      “Great. A family effort.”

      “In more ways than one.”

      “I wish you every success,” Grant said. Without another word, he walked away.

      Paul glared after him.

      “Paul, Paul, Paul,” she whispered and touched his arm. “You’ve got to let it go.”

      He sighed heavily. “I don’t know if I can.”

      “You can and you will,” she assured him. “It just takes time.”

      He relaxed somewhat, but Bethanne could see he was still agitated by the encounter.

      “The only reason I believe it’s possible,” he said thoughtfully, “is because I see it in you. Did I ever mention how much I admire you?”

      She grinned. “Once or twice.”

      “I’m afraid this will upset you, Bethanne, but it’s the truth—I’m falling in love with you.” He reached for her hand.

      Bethanne closed her eyes. She loved Paul, but not in that way.

      This was something she didn’t want—or need.

      32

      CHAPTER

       ELISE BEAUMONT

      Now that Maverick was living in his condominium, Elise missed him. She’d made the difficult decision to remain where she was for now, but she was miserable without Maverick. She missed everything about him. It’d been that way after the divorce, too. The scent of him, the feel of him, the incredible joy of watching him with their infant daughter …

      The ache inside her seemed to grow day by day. And yet it wasn’t as if she didn’t see him. Maverick was at the house almost daily for one reason or another. Each and every visit, he attempted to lure her to his home, to convince her he was a changed man and that she could trust him. So far she’d resisted, but her resolve was weakening. She could feel it crack under the pressure of her own needs, but she dared not give in.

      Elise half-expected Maverick this morning. He knew as well as she did that Aurora intended to take the boys shopping for school clothes. The house would be theirs if they chose to take advantage of it.

      Half an hour after her daughter left, Elise was anxiously pacing the kitchen. When the bell rang, she dashed to the front door and threw it open. Maverick was right about her—in one area, especially. Elise had a thriving sexual appetite. She’d supressed it all these years but, beginning the night he had told her he was leaving, she’d given it free rein. She liked nothing better than to take her ex-husband to bed in the middle of a hot afternoon. Her cheeks flushed at the thought. If anyone ever learned about this secret part of her nature, she’d die of mortification. She’d simply die.

      She loved how much Maverick loved her. All they needed was each other. And yet … could they live with each other?

      Elise was afraid that joining her life with his would end the same way it had before. It was inevitable that he’d succumb to his compulsion to gamble again, and she couldn’t handle that.

      Despite her hopes, it wasn’t Maverick at the door. “Bethanne!” Elise held open the screen door. Something must be very wrong, because her friend was so pale. “Come in, come in.”

      “I hope you don’t mind me just showing up like this.”

      “Of course not.” Elise led the way to the living room. She offered to make coffee or tea, but Bethanne declined with a quick shake of her head.

      Bethanne sat down on the sofa, plucking a tissue from her purse. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry and look at me. I haven’t said a word and I’m already an emotional wreck.”

      Elise sat across from her. “Start at the beginning. Tell me exactly what happened.”

      Bethanne bit her trembling lower lip. “I—I’ve been to six banks now, and each one rejected my loan application.” While Elise listened, Bethanne reviewed the first five banks and the rejections, which were all because she was considered a poor loan risk.

      “Then I talked to Lydia, and she mentioned a neighborhood bank that gave her a loan recently. She told me there were things about her history that made her look like a poor risk, too. On paper, anyway. But you and I both know that Lydia’s a fabulous businessperson. She has more financial sense in her little finger than I do in my entire body. But I’m willing to learn.”

      “Of course you can learn,” Elise assured her. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Bethanne this upset—not even when she’d first talked about the divorce. “Did you apply with this bank Lydia recommended?” she asked.

      Bethanne nodded. “At Lydia’s insistence, I used her as a reference.” She stopped talking long enough to blow her nose. “I just heard back from them yesterday afternoon. After a lot of debate, they decided to refuse me the loan. Elise,” she cried, “I don’t know what to do.”

      If Elise had the money herself, she’d lend it to her. In some ways, she felt responsible; she’d been the one to suggest the party business and she was proud of Bethanne’s success.

      “How can I help?” she asked.

      Bethanne took a moment to collect herself. “Just by listening to me,” she whispered, unable to keep the emotion out of her voice. “I … I admire you so much and I’m so grateful I met you.”

      “Me?” Elise blushed at the praise. All she’d ever done was encourage Bethanne. Elise had been a single mother herself, and knew the hardships that entailed.

      “Oh, Elise, you’re such a good friend.”

      Now it was her turn to tear up. Naturally, she’d had friends through the years, but she’d come to realize that those relationships were superficial. There was no real grief in leaving them behind. Somehow, it was different with the knitting group. Her reserve had slowly begun to dissolve; she even found herself talking about Maverick. Of course, she hadn’t shared the fact that they were sleeping together—that was far too intimate a detail—but she wouldn’t be surprised if her friends had guessed. Until this summer she’d hardly ever mentioned his name.

      “I found out something wonderful about Lydia,” Bethanne said. “One time she told me she didn’t owe a single penny to anyone. She was proud of that. All the yarn in her store’s paid for and—until she got this loan—she was pretty well debt-free.”

      Elise nodded; she approved of doing business on a pay-as-you-go basis. Far too many young people got caught in the credit trap. It was too easy to use a credit card and pay later. Except that the debt always grew so much faster than anyone seemed to expect. She’d seen it with her own daughter and son-in-law, warned them as gently as she could and then shut up.

      “I didn’t want to ask Lydia why she needed