Chapter Twenty-Eight
Emma
“I’m sorry we’re going to be late to the book club, Grandma.”
Sylvia made a dismissive gesture. “Don’t you worry about that. Being late gives us the perfect chance to make an entrance,
which you know is my favorite thing in the world.”
Emma had to smile, even after the long, arduous day she’d had. She adored Sylvia, who looked particularly charming tonight
wearing a dress in kaleidoscopic colors, along with dangly earrings and multiple bangles at her wrist.
“Did you get our Olive settled with the babysitter?”
“Yes. She was excited to have her. She’s quite familiar with Maya from seeing her at the bookstore. Maya’s always great to
read to her when she has a minute free between shelving books. I think they’ll have fun.”
As usual, she hated leaving Olive yet again, though they had spent all morning together. Still, Emma had vowed to herself
that after tonight, she wouldn’t go to another social event without her daughter for at least a month.
As soon as the bookstore renovation was done, she planned to reduce her hours to spend more time with Olive. For now, she
brought her daughter into the store with her as much as she could and always had Josie, her mother and Sylvia as backup.
How could she miss out on the chance to hear Andrew Morgan talk about his books? She had her own copies of The Starbound Chronicles
in her bag and hoped he would agree to sign them.
“How’s the renovation going?” Sylvia asked as Emma drove toward the cove where the book group was meeting.
“Slow but steady. Bryce is a good worker.”
“And he’s not bad on the eyes, am I right?” Sylvia asked with a twinkle.
Emma sighed. Not at all. If he was only good-looking, she would find it much easier to resist him. But Bryce was so much more
and she was having a tough time reminding herself she didn’t have room in her life for a man right now.
“Oh, he’s fine, I guess,” she said casually.
If you’re into big, muscular construction workers who are also well-read.
And who wouldn’t be? Emma rolled her eyes at herself. Was she crazy to keep him at arm’s length? It was obvious he was interested
in her, and she certainly was attracted to him. Every time she thought about him, she was aware of a breathless feeling.
“He’s a great guy,” Sylvia said. “Hardworking, conscientious. You could do a whole lot worse.”
Yes. She was fully aware. She had dated enough losers to know when a man was the very opposite of one.
“Not in the cards,” she said to Sylvia. “I’m much too busy right now with the bookstore and Olive and trying to figure everything
out.”
To her relief, Sylvia didn’t press the issue as she helped navigate to a part of town Emma wasn’t familiar with, a development
of newer beach houses.
She didn’t know the woman hosting the book club. Apparently Barbara West was a relative newcomer to town. Thanks to Sylvia’s
directions, they soon arrived at their destination.
“These are nice houses,” Emma said, admiring the way they seemed to blend into the landscape.
“Your mom is very proud of them. Lucas Construction was the builder on all of them. That’s how she and Barbara became friends. Your mom was the project manager on Barbara and her husband’s house.”
These were definitely higher-end custom-built homes. Lucas Construction had done a great job, from what she could see on the
outside.
She found a parking space between a small SUV and a flashy convertible, then moved around the side of the car.
“I can do this,” Sylvia said as Emma opened the door and reached a hand in to help her grandmother out. “With this walking
cast, I mostly just need a cane. I’m getting along much better now.”
Emma had noticed and wasn’t sure what to think about that. “I’m so glad you’re feeling better. Whenever you feel like you’re
ready to come back to the bookstore, I can step aside. I’m sure I could find something else in town to do.”
Perhaps she could persuade her mother that she wanted to start at the bottom at the construction company.
Sylvia snorted. “Don’t be silly. The last thing I want is for you to step aside.”
“You don’t want to come back to the bookstore?”
“Not to run the place. You are exactly what The Rainy Day Bookshop needed to shake things up, someone with more energy, enthusiasm
and ideas than I could ever find, especially at this stage of life.”
“I hate feeling like I showed up in town and pushed you out of doing something you love.”
“Don’t be silly. I was more than ready to quit. If I hadn’t been, do you really think a silly broken leg would have kept me
on the sidelines?”
Emma narrowed her gaze at her grandmother. “Then why am I here?”
Sylvia shrugged. “You needed to be home and this broken ankle was as good an excuse as any.”
Emma frowned as she helped her grandmother up the two steps to the front door. “Are you telling me you orchestrated this whole
thing?”
“Not the broken ankle. That was real, unfortunately. But I’m glad things happened as they did. You and Olive needed to come
home.”
Since she couldn’t argue, she only gave her grandmother a chiding look. “I like making my own decisions for my life. You could
have asked me to come back even before you broke your ankle.”
“Would that have made a difference? You only came home because you thought it was an emergency. Admit it.”
She could not disagree. “You are a rascal, Grandma,” she said.
Sylvia only laughed. “I know, but you love me anyway.”
She hugged the older woman, smelling her familiar scent of roses and sandalwood that immediately took her back to being a
girl cuddling beside her grandmother while Sylvia read to her.
“You’re lucky you’re so lovable.”
Sylvia laughed, a low, husky sound. “Don’t I know it?”
There was a sign on the door that bid visitors to enter. Feeling odd about walking into a stranger’s home, Emma knocked softly
before she pushed open the door. A sleek, well-groomed woman beamed at them.
“Hi, Sylvia. And you must be Emma. You look like your mother. Come in.”
She ushered them into a large open room packed with people, some she recognized and others who were unfamiliar to her.
“Have we missed listening to our sexy new author?” Sylvia asked.
Barbara chuckled. “He hasn’t officially started talking. You have time to come and grab something to eat. We have tons of food. Pam brought croissant chicken salad sandwiches, and they are absolutely delicious.”
Emma stiffened. Pam was there? She hadn’t realized the other woman was part of the book club.
She should have asked her mother for the guest list. She had absolutely no desire to socialize with her.
She couldn’t back out now, though. They were here and she had to stay so she could drive her grandmother back home.
“That sounds good. I’m starving,” Sylvia said. She hobbled over to a table that had been set up in the open-plan kitchen,
which had two large islands that were covered with food platters.
The people of Wood Briar certainly never wanted anyone to go hungry.
The book group was a large, eclectic mix. Some of the women were her grandmother’s age, but she was happy to see a few that
were her own.
Her mother was engrossed in conversation with several other woman and Emma was struck by how put-together her mom looked.
Rosie wore soft-gray trousers and a silk blouse that brought out the green in her eyes. She looked every inch the successful
businesswoman she’d become.
She was lovely, Emma thought, not for the first time. At forty-five, Rosie had decades of life ahead of her. She could easily
find another relationship, start a new chapter in her life. So why hadn’t she?
The question nagged at Emma. In all the years since her father died, Emma wasn’t sure Rosie had dated anyone. Sylvia had never
mentioned it to her, anyway.
Had Rosie put her own life on hold all this time? The thought made Emma’s chest tighten with a mix of guilt and concern.
Her mother must have sensed her scrutiny. She looked up and smiled, maneuvering through the crowd to hug Emma.
“I’m so happy you made it! Was Olive all right with the babysitter?”
“She and Maya were having a lovely time when I left. Olive was thrilled because Maya brought a bunch of craft supplies. I
think she will be very entertained.”
“Oh good. You need to grab something to eat. There are a few vegetarian options. I was worried about that, but it looks like
somebody brought a veggie plate, and there are some croissants that don’t have the chicken salad on them.”
“Mom, I’m fine. You don’t have to fuss over me.”
Rosie looked slightly put out, and Emma regretted her tone. When would they relax around each other? Would they ever, or were
the scars between them too deep for them to ever completely heal their relationship?
“This is a big crowd. How’s Andrew doing?”
To her surprise, she saw a faint hint of color climb her mother’s cheeks.
“He’s fine. I believe he’s over there being cornered by Susie and Betty Phillips.”
She followed the direction of her mother’s inclined head and found Andrew surrounded by several women—including Pam Clarke,
she saw with annoyance.
As if he somehow sensed them talking about him, Andrew looked up. His gaze seemed to unerringly find Emma’s mother and his
polite smile widened into something that looked much more genuine. Rosie smiled back, then looked away, the flush on her cheeks
climbing higher.
Well. Wasn’t that interesting?
Was something going on between her mother and Andrew Morgan?
The man really was good-looking, for an older guy. He had brown hair with only a trace of gray and a long, lean frame.
And he seemed to be looking at her mother with a definite light in his eyes.
Emma was not sure how she felt about that.
Andrew seemed like a very nice guy. They had lots in common, too, especially their love of books.
She wanted to ask her grandmother if she had noticed anything between the two of them, but Sylvia was talking to a couple
of other women she didn’t recognize.