“Will do, Grandmother.” Donovan bent, kissed Winifred’s white curls and left her office pretending nonchalance.
The truth was he was fresh out of ideas, and for an idea man that was unacceptable. Worse than that, he did not want to keep running to Abby. She’d told him the changes she envisioned. That should be enough.
Only it wasn’t. He couldn’t seem to translate those ideas onto paper.
“Hey, Katie, have you seen Ariane? I know she arrived, but—”
“The driver dropped her off a while ago. She was in here for a bit, but then she left. Maybe to get a drink? I wasn’t paying attention. Sorry.” Katie offered him a distracted look as she hurried away to solve some problem.
Fiona ushered a client out of a fitting room and through the front door before dragging a hand through her hair.
“That was a toughie. She has no clue what she wants.”
“Those are your best weddings, Mom,” he cheered her on with a hug. “Seen Ariane?”
“Olivia was here with her and the twins when I went in for the consult. Olivia wouldn’t have just left her alone. She may have wandered off somewhere. In my experience, girls usually like the fabric room.” Fiona glanced at her watch, smiled at the woman entering the building. “Hello. I’m so glad you made it.”
Fiona gave him a questioning look.
“Go on with your client. I’ll find her,” he whispered.
“Thanks, honey. We have to check out that reception hall tonight or I’d—”
Donovan shook his head at her and pointed. “Go.”
The rest of the family was equally involved in business, so Donovan didn’t bother them, simply walked through the enormous building, intentionally leaving Abby’s section until last. Not that he was avoiding her, exactly.
Okay, he was. But fatherhood meant he was supposed to handle whatever problems came up, not depend on someone else to solve them. Donovan couldn’t help glancing toward the jewelry designer’s domain. When he saw a small dark head next to Abby’s toffee-toned one, he realized he’d have to face Abby sooner than he’d planned. He moved to the doorway to watch.
“I really like the way you’ve made that banding line accentuate the front of the bracelet, Ariane,” Abby murmured. “It looks a lot neater now.”
Ari smiled to herself as she threaded another bead onto a pliable string that already held a number of beads. She worked quickly, threading, twisting, tying, until she caught sight of him in the doorway. Immediately she set down her things and walked over to him as if duty called.
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