Marcy’s, sending gentle spasms of electricity up her arm to the base of her neck. “My treat.”
“I told you he likes you,” Shannon whispered as he made his retreat. “Oh, shortbread. My favorite.”
“Have one.”
“Can’t. Mrs. O’Connor doesn’t approve of eating between meals. She’s always going on about how slovenly and undisciplined young people are these days, says there’s an epidemic of obesity in the world, that it’s all a matter of self-control and that a person’s character is revealed by what they eat.”
“Mrs. O’Connor sounds like a bundle of laughs.” No wonder her baby is always crying, Marcy thought. Then, in the next breath, Sure. Blame the mother.
Shannon’s face looked as if it was about to burst into flames. She put her hand to her heart, as if preparing to take an oath. “I’m afraid I’ve given you the totally wrong impression about Mrs. O’Connor.”
“You didn’t.”
“She’s really a very nice woman.”
“I’m sure she is. Have a cookie.”
Shannon quickly grabbed one off the plate, nervously bit off its end.
“So, are Jax and Audrey friends?” Marcy asked, throwing caution to the wind. The subtle approach was clearly getting her nowhere.
“How did you know that?” Shannon took another bite of her cookie, washing it down with a sip of her tea. “Are you psychic?”
Marcy shrugged, as if to say, Lucky guess. “Isn’t she the one who said boys only bring you grief?”
Shannon giggled. “She does say that, yes.”
“Sounds like she’s speaking from experience.”
“They used to be an item.”
Marcy felt the hot tea in her throat turn to ice, forming a cube that wedged in her larynx. She practically had to scrape the next words out. “Used to be?”
“Over and done. She said I could have him, if I wanted.” Shannon’s cheeks went from red to purple.
“And do you?”
Shannon waved away the suggestion with a nervous flutter of her fingers. “Oh, I don’t think Mrs. O’Connor would approve of someone like Jax.”
“Why is that?”
“He’s a bit on the wild side.”
“How wild?” Marcy asked.
“He’s got a bit of a reputation. Nothing awful, mind you, but not exactly the kind of young man you bring home to mother.”
Marcy shuddered, recalling the man Devon had been involved with in the months prior to her supposed drowning. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” she’d warned her daughter.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” was Devon’s instant retort.
“Not that he fancies me or anything,” Shannon was saying, a fresh wave of blood washing across her cheeks.
“Why wouldn’t he?”
Another nervous giggle. “Well, you don’t see the boys exactly lining up, now, do you?”
“I think any boy would be lucky to have you,” Marcy offered, her frazzled brain working a mile a minute. If Audrey and Jax knew each other, she was thinking, if they’d once been lovers, surely that meant there was no way his running into her with his bicycle could have been coincidental. It had to have been deliberate.
Which meant what?
That Devon knew her mother was here? Or that someone was trying desperately to keep her from finding out?
“You really think so?” Shannon asked hopefully.
“I absolutely do.” Marcy smiled at the baby in her arms. “She’s falling asleep,” Marcy commented, and in the same breath, “So, how long have you known Audrey?”
“I met her just after I started working for the O’Connors.”
“Is she from around here?”
“No. I think she’s from London originally.” Shannon suddenly started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“You should hear her impression of Mrs. O’Connor. It’s hilarious. She has the accent down pat.”
Marcy cleared her throat in an effort to keep a scream from emerging. “Does she do other accents as well?”
“Oh, yes. German, Italian. American. She’s quite amazing, really. Do you think I could have another cookie?”
“Help yourself.”
Shannon took another cookie from the plate, broke it into two equal halves, then stuffed one half inside her mouth. “Guess it’ll come in handy when she goes to California.”
“She’s going to California?”
Shannon nodded, scooping up some wayward crumbs from around her lips with her tongue. “So she says.”
“Does she say when?”
“Pretty soon, I think.” She returned the uneaten half of her cookie to her plate, staring at Marcy with wary eyes. “Why are you so interested in Audrey?”
Marcy shrugged. “Just making small talk. These cookies are the best. Here, you have the last one.”
“No. I really should be getting home.” Shannon pushed back her chair, started to stand up.
“Do you think it’s a good idea to disturb the baby?” Marcy asked quickly.
Shannon acknowledged the sleeping baby in Marcy’s arms with a deep sigh. “You do have