Storm Shells (The Wishes Series #3) (6 page)

Tinker Bell,

For the most part, your defection has improved our business relationship considerably. Unfortunately, as co-owner, I still require your signature on certain documentation. Sign these papers and return them to me at your earliest convenience. That means today. Pretty please.

Ryan

I hadn’t put any thought into how leaving New York would leave Ryan in the lurch. I suddenly felt bad, grabbed a pen from my bag and spent the next ten minutes signing paperwork in the name of Charlotte Décarie. Ryan had covered all bases by including a self-addressed envelope. I repackaged the papers, ventured back into the post office and returned them to the arrogant control-freak sender.

I didn’t open the second parcel until that night when I was alone in my room. I tore the strip off the top and out tumbled my curly fry rings. I searched the empty package for a note but there was nothing – and it unfairly chipped at my heart. The finality of the gesture was heartbreaking.

Ignoring the hurt, I slipped the rings onto my finger and held my hand up to the dull light from my bedside lamp. They were far more ostentatious than I remembered, but still incredibly beautiful. And for some weird reason, they no longer slipped off my fingers when I wore them.

I fell asleep still wearing the rings that I’d only managed to grow into once I abandoned the union they represented.

December 21

Adam

My plan of avoiding Trieste until classes resumed in the New Year fell apart quickly. She’d been given my phone number.

“I thought we could meet today,” she suggested, during an obscenely early morning call that woke me up.

“Trieste, do you have any idea what the time is?” I asked, making a mental note to block her number.

“Ah, twenty-two minutes past seven.”

“On a Saturday,” I added, as if it made a difference.

“I didn’t think you’d have plans, considering you’re recently separated and all. There’s no point moping around by yourself.” The nerve of the girl was astonishing. “I have an essay due that I could do with a bit of help with. I have to submit it tomorrow.”

I let out a long disgruntled groan. It should’ve been enough to make her to hang up and forget ever calling me again. But she didn’t. I found myself agreeing to meet her that afternoon.

* * *

Trieste had the gall to keep me waiting. I was just about to give up on her when she came running down the sidewalk with an armload of books.

“You’re late.” I tapped my watch. “I can’t wait around for you all day.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I had a job interview that ran over time.”

I took the stack of books from her and stood nodding as she rattled off the reasons why she didn’t get the job at the café she’d applied at, followed by the reasons why she didn’t want it in the first place. “Coffee makes me sneeze anyway.”

“Right. Well, can we go now?”

“Yes, but I have to warn you, lunch is on you. I’m broke.”

I’d agreed to an hour of study, not lunch. The girl was impossible. “Fine,” I surrendered. “I know a place close by.”

* * *

Billet-doux wasn’t really Trieste’s scene. “I thought you said this place was great,” she whispered, leaning across the table.

I continued reading through her essay, paying her next to no attention. “It is great.”

“It’s empty, Adam. Perhaps they have issues with the health department.”

I looked up. Trieste was glancing at the floor, perhaps looking for signs of vermin.

“It’s closed, Trieste. I thought it would be a quiet place to study.”

She looked embarrassed. “Oh. I just thought the service was terrible.”

I laughed blackly. “Don’t let my brother hear you say that.”

“Does he work here?”

“Sometimes.” I turned my attention back to the papers in my hand.

Trieste managed to keep quiet until I’d finished reading. Once I was done, I straightened them and handed them back.

“Well?” she asked, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“It’s fantastic,” I said truthfully. “I would be proud to submit that kind of work.”

She grinned and leaned back. “I know.”

“Trieste, if you knew it was good, why did you drag me out to read it?”

“I just wanted you to see how good it was.”

“Humble, aren’t you?”

“No,” she replied. “Not really. Can we eat now?”

Trieste Kincaid grows on you – like a flesh-eating virus. As much as she annoyed me, I was warming to her. I was feeling no urge to ditch her and make a run for it so I headed to the empty kitchen to see what I could rustle up for lunch. Left-over pasta was the best I could do. I microwaved it half to death, piled it onto a couple of plates and made my way back to front of house.

Trieste was standing near the far wall, studying Charli’s canvas prints.

“These are very good,” she said, glancing back at me.

I set the plates down on the table. “They are.”

“I like this one the best.” The canvas she was pointing at was very familiar. It was a picture of the cliffs at Pipers Cove – the very same picture that had led me to Charli in the first place.

I stood beside her, studying it as intently as she did. “It’s my favourite too.”

* * *

We’d almost finished lunch when Ryan strutted through the front door. The smart comments started immediately. “Cute place for a first date, Adam,” he taunted, walking toward our table. “Your wife’s restaurant.”

I took the high road, because I almost always do where he’s concerned. “Ryan, this is Trieste Kincaid.”

She held out her hand. “Hi.”

Ryan grinned as he met her handshake. “Hello, Trieste. Nice ears.”

She took no offense at all. “Thanks,” she replied, running her hands over the top of her beanie.

“Trieste is in her first year of law at Columbia. She’s also looking for a job,” I explained.

“Great,” replied Ryan, walking toward the kitchen. “Good luck with your search.”

I called out to him. “I think you should hire her.”

He didn’t even slow his walk. “No.”

I turned my attention back to Trieste. “You can start Monday.”

Ryan spun around and stalked back to the table, looking seriously pissed. “We’re not hiring.”

I ignored him and winked at her. “Monday.”

She smiled.

My brother looked like he was in danger of exploding right out of his pretentious suit. “No. Trieste, I’m sorry. My brother is a little out of line. We’re not hiring.”

I leaned back in my chair, grinning at him. “Three words for you, Ryan. Power. Of. Attorney.”

A look of pure anger swamped him. “What are you talking about?”

Trieste cleared her throat before interjecting. “Power of attorney is the authority to act for another person in legal or financial matters.”

I laughed. Ryan didn’t see the funny side.

“Yes, thank you, Miss First Year Law,” he said sarcastically before turning to me. “Why didn’t you tell me Charli gave you power of attorney? I just sent her a heap of papers to sign. You could’ve saved me the headache and signed them yourself.”

I shrugged. “Hire Trieste and I’ll consider it for next time.”

He caved instantly. “Trieste, you start Monday. Lose the ears.”

As soon as Ryan was gone, Trieste thanked me. “No big deal,” I replied. “Just don’t sneeze in the coffee.”

I wasn’t entirely sure that my gesture was an honourable one. Trieste had told me she was desperate to find a job. I figured giving her one would keep her out of my hair. She was an excellent student. She didn’t need mentoring any more than I needed her calling me at dawn on the weekends.

* * *

Considering it was a Saturday night, I was surprised that Ryan was home when I got there. He seemed surprised to see me too. The massive canvas print I was dragging through the door might have had something to do with it.

Instantly, he knew I’d swiped it from Billet-doux.

“Great,” he muttered. “First you’re getting me to hire staff against my will and now you’re stealing artwork.”

He might’ve been pissed but at least he held the door open while I carried it inside.

“I want to hang it here.” I crossed the room and leaned the canvas against the far wall.

Ryan stared at the picture. “As a reminder of your tragic loss?”

I scowled. “She’s not dead, idiot.”

“I like the Manhattan skyline ones better. The Brooklyn ones are good too. Pick one of those.”

“No, I like this one.” It was
my
picture. As far as I was concerned, it was her best work.

“Where was it taken?” asked Ryan.

“Pipers Cove.”

“Never Never Land,” he snorted. “That’s where I sent her mail.”

“Let’s hope for your sake that’s where she is then.”

His focus shifted from the picture to me. “Why?”

“Because you need her to sign it. I lied when I said I had power of attorney. I just wanted you to give Trieste a job.”

He punched me in the arm, sending me staggering to the side. “You are such a dick.”

December 23

Charli

Living with Gabi and Alex wasn’t working out. The house was just too small for the three of us. Besides, the Parisienne was driving me crazy. I used to be able to read her perfectly. She was notoriously pushy, uptight and chatty. Although still uptight, she was now quiet and absent a lot of the time. I couldn’t stand the shift.

Something was definitely going on. I questioned Alex a few times but he brushed it off as her having a bad day. Gabrielle seemed to have a lot of bad days. I was beginning to think my return to town had something to do with it.

I waited until Alex had left for his morning surf, cornered her in the kitchen and tried to brighten her mood.

“Gabi, I’ve been thinking,” I began. “Do you think it would be alright if I moved into the cottage?”

She left me hanging, waiting until she’d poured her tea before answering.

“Why would you choose to live alone?”

“I just miss having my own space. Besides, most of my stuff is there anyway.”

She nodded but her expression remained blank. “Your father won’t be pleased.”

“I can handle Alex. I’m asking if you’d be okay with it.”

She brought her mug to her lips, blowing a long breath to cool her tea. “I think it’s a fine idea. But you can tell your father.”

* * *

I agreed with Gabrielle’s prediction that Alex wouldn’t be thrilled with the new living arrangements, which is exactly why I made a bolt for the cottage before he got back from the beach.

Bouncing between Décarie real estate was something I’d become accustomed to. And just like the last time, I only had one suitcase of belongings to unpack when I got there. The first thing I did when I got inside was draw back the sheer curtains in every room. There really wasn’t anything else to do. The cottage was fully furnished, spotlessly clean and gloriously quiet.

It didn’t take Alex long to catch up with me. The grumbly red ute pulled onto the driveway an hour after I’d arrived. I met him at the door.

“Hi.” He seemed a little apprehensive.

“Hi.”

I held the screen door open but he made no attempt to come inside. “Do you want to walk for a minute?” he asked, giving an upward nod toward the yard.

I trailed behind him as he ventured into the garden. Most of the flowers had ended their spring run of blooms but pink peonies and plenty of lavender kept the rockeries colourful and bright. It was a glorious scene and I still couldn’t grasp that Gabrielle had given it up.

Alex stopped and turned to face me. “Do you really want to move in here, Charli?” he asked, getting straight to the point. Perhaps he thought Gabrielle was pushing me out the door.

“Yes. I really do.”

“I’d rather you stay with me,” he said quietly. “I’d worry less.”

“Oh, come on, Alex, I’ve been on my own for a while now. I can’t stay with you and Gabrielle. I don’t think she’s happy having me there.”

His face twisted. “It’s nothing to do with you, Charli.”

“So what then?” I pressed. “I know something’s going on.”

I could tell by the tortured look on his face that an explanation was going to be awkward for him. And like crazy and crying, my father did not do awkward.

“Gabs wants to have a baby.”

I ducked my head, chasing his eyes. “
Gabi
wants to have a baby?”

“
We
want to have a baby,” he amended, sounder much surer. “And it’s proving trickier than anticipated.”

“Um, is there a problem?” I had no clue how else to word it.

Alex dropped his head and kicked at the lawn. “No. There’s no medical reason why she can’t conceive. We know that because we’ve both been prodded and poked by every specialist in Hobart.”