warm on the plates—roast beef, some baked potatoes, rolls, veg … “This all looks pretty good.”
“Just a little something.”
Right. A four-course meal plus what smelled like pie in the oven was a little something.
“Tell you what.” Grant reverently lowered the foil on a plate. “My mom could use help around here, and you’re one hell of a cook. Why don’t you work for her? You’d get paid and have something to do, Mom could relax, and Faith would have square meals, not to mention the rest of us.”
“Work here?” Grace stared at him, her flush returning. “Like, every day?”
“I bet Mom would give you a day off every once in a while. How about it? You’d have more chances of catching Carter’s eye if you were right under his nose.”
Grace’s flush deepened. “Is it that obvious?” Then she sighed. “Oh, what the hell? But ask Olivia first before you sign me up. She might not like the idea.”
“She will,” Grant said. He slid back the foil on another plate and plucked up a few tidbits of meat. “She likes to eat as much as any of us. Let me talk to her, and I’ll fix it up.”
Grace beamed. “Thanks, Grant. You’re a good person.” She grasped his sleeve and rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
Carter chose that moment to walk in. Grant didn’t miss the flash of anger in his brother’s eyes as Grant took a nonchalant sip of beer. Grace wiped her hands, waved Carter at the food, then grabbed her purse and scurried out the back door.
Carter’s fury with Grant might have been because Grant had left an important shoot earlier today, but he didn’t think so. Grant would bet good money that it was all about the kiss.
Christina decided to swallow her pride and tell her uncle she’d go back to work for him. She’d made the decision to stay in Riverbend, but she hadn’t been kidding when she said she didn’t want to be Grant’s kept woman. She’d have her own job, stand on her own two feet, as she always had, whether she and Grant could make it together again or not. Her uncle was delighted she’d decided to stay, and told her she could start any time; all she had to do was talk to the manager and work out a schedule.
Christina put off starting again until she finished moving out of her old apartment and set up Bailey’s house. She then took her time settling in, telling herself she didn’t need the income yet.
She knew she was taking the time to get over the disappointment of not being pregnant, the wound of that still raw. Grant did talk to her, calling her to make sure she was all right, but Christina put off seeing him as well. She needed to heal before tackling life again.
She was happy she hadn’t run around telling everyone her exciting news, because she’d have had to swallow that now and take their sympathy, which she wouldn’t have been able to stand. Grant also said nothing to anyone, and neither did Karen, though Karen checked up on Christina from time to time. Their expedition and conversations had formed into a friendship, even if it was the oddest friendship Christina had ever had.
Finally, one evening a few weeks later, Christina made herself go to the bar and talk to the manager. She didn’t really want to go out, but then again, she didn’t want to mope in her house either. Christina needed to keep moving, even if right now she was shattered.
Christina walked the short distance to the tavern in the cool dark air, waving to her friends as she entered. She started for the back office, but Karen intercepted her and pulled her aside.
“Are you doing all right?” Karen asked her, bending close so no one else would hear. They stood in a corner near the end of the counter, Karen’s business suit today a cream linen skirt, blue silk blouse, and black jacket. Christina always felt underdressed next to her, though tonight she’d worn the cutest spaghetti strap top she owned and denim shorts. Most women our age can’t pull that off anymore, my ass.
Christina nodded in answer to Karen’s question. She was doing fine physically, but she knew what Karen meant. “I’ll be okay.”
Karen gave her a look that said she didn’t really believe Christina, but she wouldn’t pry. For some reason that was easier to take than an outburst of sympathy and hugs.
“I hear you