Second Chance Girl (Page 42)

She leaned close. “You say that now.”

Her breath whispered on his cheek. He could inhale the faint scent of her perfume—one he would always associate with her. The need to kiss her was nearly as powerful as the desire to do so much more. She was bright, charming, kind and a pleasure to be around. He didn’t want to leave her and he had absolutely no reason to stay. Except…

“The fund-raiser for Millie is a week from Thursday,” he said. “Would you mind if I stayed until then?”

She met his gaze. For a second, he would have sworn he heard her breath catch, then told himself wishful thinking did not make it so.

“That would be great. The evening is going to be a lot of fun. And it’s for a good cause.”

“Millie’s herd.”

“Yes.”

He wanted to say something else, something significant that would help her understand his conflicted feelings. He wanted to know if she felt anything for him or if he was simply in danger of making a fool out of himself.

Silver rose. “I’m making a bar run. Who wants what?”

Ulrich rose. “Allow me. What would you ladies like?”

Silver raised her eyebrows. “Nice manners, Your Lordship.”

He bowed. “My lady.”

Silver sank back in her chair. “I don’t know, Violet. This one might be a keeper. The house would probably look really nice on a Christmas card.”

Violet flushed. “She’s teasing, Ulrich. You don’t have to freak out or anything.”

“I’m English, Violet. We never freak out. We don’t believe in it.”

He took their orders and made his way to the bar. As he waited to be served, he glanced back at the table. The three women were speaking intently, their heads bent together, their voices low.

If he was lucky, they were talking about him. Perhaps Violet was admitting some fondness and her friends were telling her to go for it.

And then what, the practical side of his nature asked. Where would they go from there? His life was not movable—he belonged to Battenberg Park as much as the estate belonged to him. Violet was American. Her family and work were here, in Happily Inc. She would never consider leaving…would she?

A ridiculous question. They’d only known each other a few weeks. He’d known Penelope for years before they’d married and look what had happened there. No, this was a brief respite from his responsibilities, nothing more. He would enjoy his time with Violet and then he would go home—where he belonged.

* * *

MATHIAS STUDIED THE latest glass version of Carol. He was closer, but the piece still wasn’t right. While the individual features looked like her, the essence of her being seemed to be missing. Although he didn’t have a clue as to how he was supposed to capture essence.

His cell rang. He recognized the area code and grinned.

“Hello?”

“Mathias, it’s Mayor Marsha. I’m sorry I couldn’t take your call earlier. I was in a meeting. How are you?”

“Very well. We’re looking forward to seeing you next weekend, at the wedding.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. You and your brothers might have moved away from Fool’s Gold, but you will always be a part of our family. I hope Sophie is staying out of trouble.”

He glanced at the sleeping beagle, then wondered how on earth the mayor had known his mother had dropped off her dog in the first place. His was not to question the mighty one, he reminded himself.

“She’s keeping out of trouble, but the day is young. Ask me in a few hours.”

Mayor Marsha chuckled. “I remember the time she managed to find her way into the storeroom of Jo’s Bar. She ate three bags of cookies and half a ham before she was discovered. Your mother was so worried about her getting sick. Sophie being Sophie was just fine. She had a little gas, but not much else.”

“That’s my girl.”

“So tell me, Mathias, how can I help you?”

“It’s about a couple of giraffes.”

“For Millie? I had heard your brother donated a piece to be auctioned off to raise the money. Moving giraffes will be a challenge, but I’m sure you have that in hand already. You’ll be needing permits. Let me see what I can do.”

Mathias wondered if he should have bothered calling. Maybe just thinking the request would have been enough.

“Thanks for your help,” he said.

“You’re more than welcome. I’ll see you at the wedding. I’m driving down with Eddie and Gladys.” The mayor sighed. “They took two days to pick the rooms they wanted at the Sweet Dreams Inn. I hope they don’t get too wild.”

Eddie and Gladys were two old ladies from Fool’s Gold. They were feisty, highly verbal and known for ogling much younger men.

“Did Del invite them?” he asked, sounding doubtful.

“Maya. They’re close to her. Apparently the new trend is grandmothers as flower girls. Eddie and Gladys are filling in. I try to stay ahead of trends but every now and then one gets by me. Take care, Mathias. I’ll be in touch. Oh, and I’m very much looking forward to meeting Carol.”

Mathias felt his mouth drop open. “How did you—? Who told you I—?” He shook his head. “Never mind. It’s not important. See you soon.”

“Yes, you will.”

He hung up and stared at his phone. Nick and Del walked into the studio.

“Bad news?” Nick asked.

“Nope. Just Mayor Marsha being her slightly scary self. She’s going to look into the permit issue so we can move giraffes across the state. Oh, she’s bringing Eddie and Gladys to the wedding.”

Nick grinned. “I can’t wait. It’s been a long time since an old lady patted my butt. I’ve missed it.”

Del chuckled. “Me, too. The old ladies in China are much more respectful.”

“Maybe they think you’re ugly,” Mathias teased.

“Not possible. I’m with Nick on Eddie and Gladys.”

“There’s something wrong with both of you,” Mathias grumbled.

“Naw,” Nick said. “I know a good thing when I see it. Or in this case, feel it. We should all be so feisty when we’re their age.” He pulled up a stool and leaned toward the glass piece. “You’re nearly there.”

“With luck, a couple more tries should do it.”

Del joined them. “That’s Carol. It looks just like her.”

“Thanks.”

Nick turned the statue. “You could show it at the event for Millie.”

“If it’s ready.”

Nick looked surprised. “You’d do that? Display art? You know he’s going to be there.”

The “he” in question being their father. “I know.”

Nick had been in the studio all those years ago when Ceallach had sent Mathias’s glass work tumbling to the ground. They’d all stood in the aftermath, watching the glass shards fly across the room.

“Maybe it’s time I let the past go,” Mathias said. “He’s just an old man. To see him as anything more important gives him too much power.”

Del glanced between them. “I used to wish I was like you two—talented like Dad. When I was little, I couldn’t understand why I didn’t have what he had. Now, I’m grateful. It’s not worth the crap.”

“I agree,” Mathias said slowly. “You and Aidan weren’t involved.” Ceallach had never much bothered with his “non-artist” sons.