That same wild corner of his psyche wanted to toss Chloe onto his shoulders and run out into the surf with her in his bare feet, to feel the sand squishing between his toes and the cold water sluicing over his skin and her squeals of laughter ringing in his ears.
He tamped it down, containing it deep inside. “Try a little harder, okay?” he said sternly. “This deal is important to me, Chloe. I’ve told you that. You’ve got to be on your best behavior. I can’t afford any distractions. It’s only for a few more days, then I promise when we get back to San Francisco, we’ll find a new nanny.”
She nodded, her little mouth set in a tight line that told him clearly she was just as annoyed with him as Sage Benedetto had been.
“I’m supposed to have meetings with Mr. and Mrs. Wu most of the day so I’ve made arrangements for a caregiver through an agency here. All I’m asking is for you to behave. Can you try for a few hours?”
She looked up at him through her lashes. “When you’re done with your meeting, can we buy a kite and fly it on the beach? Sage said Cannon Beach is the perfect place to fly kites because it’s always windy and because there’s lots of room so you don’t run into people.”
“If you promise to be on your best behavior, we can talk about it after my meetings.”
She ran to him and threw her arms around his waist. “I’ll be so good, Daddy, I promise, I promise, I promise.”
He returned her embrace, his heart a heavy weight in his chest. He hated thinking of her going to boarding school at the end of the summer. But in the two years since Brooke died, Chloe had run through six nannies with her headstrong behavior. Some sort of record, he was certain. He couldn’t do this by himself and he was running out of options.
“Maybe Sage and Conan can help us fly the kite,” Chloe exclaimed. “Can they, Daddy?”
The very last thing he wanted to do was spend more time with Sage Benedetto of the judgmental eyes and the luscious mouth.
“We’ll have to see,” he said. He could only hope a day of trying to be on her best behavior would exhaust Chloe sufficiently that she would forget all about their temporary neighbor and her gargantuan canine.
Chapter 2
“Sorry, Conan. You’ve got to stay here.”
Sage muscled her bike around Anna’s minivan and wheeled it out of the small garage, trying to ignore the soulful eyes gazing back at her through the flowers on the other side of the low wrought-iron fence circling the house. “You’ll be all right. I’ll come back at lunchtime to throw a ball with you for awhile, okay?”
Conan didn’t look convinced. He added a morose whine, his head cocked to one side and his chin tucked into his chest. She blew out a frustrated breath. They had been through this routine just about every day for the past month and the dog didn’t seem to be adjusting.
She couldn’t really blame the poor thing for not wanting to be alone. He was used to having Abigail’s company all day.
The two of them had been inseparable from the moment Abigail had brought him home from the pound. Conan would ride along with Abigail to the shops, his head hanging out the backseat window of her big Buick, tongue lolling. He would patiently wait for her on the porch of her friends’ houses when she would make her regular round of visits, would sniff through the yard while Abigail tended her flowers, would curl up every evening beside her favorite chair in front of the huge bay windows overlooking the ocean.
Conan was lonely and Sage could certainly empathize with that. “I’m sorry, bud,” she said again. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
The dog suddenly barked, his ears perking up like twin mountain peaks. He barreled to the front porch just as the door opened. From her place on the other side of the fence, Sage watched Anna Galvez—trim and proper in a navy blazer and gray slacks—set down her briefcase to greet the dog with a smile and a scratch under his chin.
Anna murmured something to the dog but Sage was too far away to hear. She wasn’t too far to see Anna’s warm smile for Conan trickle away when she straightened and saw Sage on the other side of the wrought-iron.
She brushed hair off her slacks and picked up her briefcase, then walked to the gate.
“Good morning. I thought I heard you come down the stairs some time ago. I figured you had already left.”
Sage straddled her bike, not at all in the mood for conversation. Her fault for sticking around when she heard the door open. If she’d left then, she could have been halfway to town by now. But that would have been rude and she couldn’t seem to shake the feeling Abigail wanted her to at least pretend politeness with Anna.
“I couldn’t walk out in the middle of his guiltfest.”
“He’s good at that, isn’t he?” Anna frowned at the dog. “I expected him to be past this phase by now. It’s been a month. Don’t you think he should already be accustomed to the changes in his life?”
Sage shrugged. “I guess some of us need a little more time than others to grieve.”
Anna’s mouth tightened and Sage immediately regretted the low comment. So much for politeness. She wanted to apologize but couldn’t seem to form the words.
“I wish I could take him with me to work,” Anna said after an awkward moment.
Sage gave the other woman a disbelieving look. Anna couldn’t possibly want a big, gangly dog wreaking havoc with the tchotchkes and whatnot in her book and gift shop in town. Conan would bankrupt her in less than an hour.
“I’ve been coming home for lunch to keep him company for awhile. Throw a ball, give him a treat. That kind of thing. For now, that’s the best I can do.”
For an instant, guilt flickered in Anna’s brown eyes but she blinked it away. “I’m sorry. I should have realized you were doing so much. I’m a little preoccupied with some things at the store right now but it’s only right that I do my share. Abigail left him to both of us, which means he’s my responsibility as well. I’m sorry,” she said again.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m afraid I can’t come back to the house today,” she said with a frown. “But I’ll try to arrange my schedule so I can take a few hours to be here with him tomorrow.”
“I’m sure he would enjoy that,” Sage said. As always, she regretted the awkwardness between her and Anna. She knew Abigail had wanted them to be friends but Sage doubted it was possible. They were simply too different.
Anna was brisk and efficient, her world centered on By-The-Wind, the shop she had purchased from Abigail two years earlier after having managed it for a year before that. Sage didn’t believe Anna had even the tiniest morsel of a sense of humor—or if she did, it was buried so deeply beneath spreadsheets and deposit slips that Sage had never seen sign of it.
After two weeks of sharing the same house, though in different apartments, Anna was still a stranger to Sage. Tightly wound and tense, Anna never seemed to relax.
Sage figured they were as different as it was possible for two women to be, one quirky and independent-minded, the other staid and responsible. Yet Abigail had loved them both.
When she was being brutally honest with herself, she could admit that was at least part of the reason for her natural reserve with Anna Galvez—small-minded, petty jealousy.
A weird kind of sibling rivalry, even.
Abigail had loved Anna—enough to leave her half of Brambleberry House and