Bishop growled, “I don’t need anyone beating on my conscience about it.” His tone dropped. “I’ve been doing enough of that myself.”
“Look on the bright side. Things couldn’t get any worse the second time around.”
“At least I know what to expect.”
“With a woman?” Willis coughed out a laugh. “You’re fooling yourself.” He drew up to his full height and got back on track. “What do you want me to do about those buyers?”
“Tell them I’m unavailable. We’ll get back to them later in the week.” He’d thought he was ready to sell. Move on. Now he wasn’t so sure. He did know that he didn’t want any reminders of his failed marriage, and every time he walked into that office, talked to his team or went on location, he remembered how he’d buried himself in his work during those hard times. In truth, perhaps those memories had more to do with his desire to sell than feeling stale at work.
Either way, he didn’t need to make a snap decision. He’d see how he felt in a day or two—in a week—about everything and decide then.
They returned to Laura, and Willis nodded his farewell. “Good meeting you, Mrs. Bishop.”
“You’ll have to come up to our place in the mountains for dinner one evening,” she said. “Bring your wife, of course.”
“I’m sure she’d like that. She loves the mountains.”
Laura beamed. “Me, too.” She looked to Bishop then back at Willis. “Why don’t we make it this weekend?”
“This weekend we’re having that get-together for my birthday, remember—” Willis stopped.
Bishop was glaring at him.
She’s not ready for big groups yet.
The consummate hostess, Laura patched up the awkward moment. “Oh, well, if you have a party on, we’ll make it another time.”
Bishop quietly exhaled. Ah, what the hell. It would either be a disaster with everyone asking the wrong questions, or they’d have a great time. If her memory returned before then, it’d be a moot point.
“We’re invited, Laura.” He shrugged, offered a smile. “It slipped my mind.”
Laura’s eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful.” She spoke to Willis. “I suppose I’ll see you next week then.”
“I know my wife will enjoy meeting you.” Turning to the doors, Willis sent Bishop a wink. “We’ll talk.”
He and Laura headed for the concierge’s desk. The fellow from last night, Herb, was still on. After the ticket was handed over and pleasantries exchanged, he asked, “Did you receive the champagne?”
Laura spoke for them both. “That was so thoughtful. And unnecessary. But thank you so much.”
“You were always so kind, Mrs. Bishop,” the older man said. “It’s good to have you back.”
Looking touched as well as bemused, Laura patted her hair uncertainly then tacked up her smile. “It’s good to be back.”
They headed out through the doors and, between two soaring forecourt columns, waited for his car to arrive. Hanging on tenterhooks, Bishop knew Laura would mention Herb’s comment. Good to have you back. She might think it was weird, but Herb hadn’t seen Laura in eighteen months, and yes, she had always been kind. She was kind to everyone. The last months of their marriage, with regard to him, didn’t count.
But rather than Herb, Laura brought up that other subject.
“Was Willis here about the sale of the company?”
“Yes, he was.”
“So you’re going in to the office later today?”
“No.”
Her eyes rounded as she turned to him. “You’re still taking the day off to be with me?”
She looked so innocent, so radiant, he couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t sound so amazed.”
Clearly self-conscious now, she bowed her head. “I know you love me—” she met his eyes again “—but I never imagined you’d take time off when you have such important business to sort out.”
The car rolled up. He opened the passenger-side door, thinking that he would never have imagined it, either. What an eye-opener. He hadn’t analyzed the dichotomy before, but it was true. He had put business first. When they’d been married, the company was still climbing and he’d had no choice but to put in the hard yards. Or that’s what he’d told himself. Truth was when things started to slide between him and Laura, he’d hid behind his job, used it as an excuse not to face his problems at home.
He slid in behind the wheel.
How often had he said to himself, If I had my time again? Now it seemed he had.
Thirty minutes later, the car slowed down and Laura brought the dented fingernail out from between her teeth.
“I’m nervous.”
Bishop swung the Land Rover to the curb. “If you don’t like any of them, we’re under no obligation.”
“I’m worried I’ll like them all. What do you think? A girl or a boy?”
The engine shut down. “Your choice.”
“A girl, I think. Maybe we could get a friend for her later on.”
“I’d better watch out or we’ll be taking all four home.”
On the drive, Bishop had let the cat—or dog, as it happened—out of the bag. Laura had been beside herself, she was so excited to be actually looking at puppies. Now, as a tall, wiry lady answered the door of a pristine suburban cottage, Laura held Bishop’s hand tight. The woman introduced herself as Sandra Knightly then ushered them around the back to where a silky coated retriever lay in a comfortable enclosure, nursing four adorable pups.
“As I told you on the phone earlier, Mr. Bishop,” Sandra said, “we have three males, one female.”
Besotted already, Laura hunkered down. “Only one girl?”
“Right there.” Sandra pointed out the smallest. “She’s the quiet one. They’re six weeks old. They’ll be ready to go to their new homes in a couple of weeks.”
“Will their mother miss them when they go?” Laura asked.
“Think of it as your own children leaving for college,” Sandra replied.
“I don’t know that I’d ever like them to go.” Laura reached out a hand then drew it back.
She looked up and Sandra asked, “Would you like to hold her?”
Laura’s face lit up. “Can I?”
“Of course. It’s good to have human contact at this age.”
Sandra scooped up the female puppy and laid her in the cup of Laura’s palms. She snuggled the sleepy baby close and brushed her cheek along the pale gold fur. The puppy turned her head and nudged her nose against Laura’s.
“Oh, my.” Her sigh was heartfelt. “She smells so … puppyish.”
Standing again, Sandra laughed. “Would you like me to put her aside for you?”
“Not yet.” Bishop stepped forward.
And Laura’s head snapped up.
“Why not?” Hearing her own tone, more a bark, she bit her lip.
She’d only meant that she knew this puppy was the one. They could look at a dozen more, but she would always