Sweet Seduction (13 page)

13

“W
E
'
RE
NOT
GOING
to do it, are we?” Daisy stared at the computer screen. She and Gloria sat at her kitchen table, watching the numbers. They hadn't moved since 6:30 p.m. that evening. It was ten thirty now. She had an hour and a half to come up with the rest of the money. It wasn't going to happen.

“Four hundred thirty thousand is a lot of money.” Gloria forced a smile, but Daisy saw the disappointment in her friend's face. “We raised a shitload, Daise. Maybe Alan will accept it if you promise to pay the rest over the next six months.” She twisted her lips, knowing it wasn't going to work.

Despite everything Gloria had done, they had failed, and Daisy had no one to blame but herself.

“By then your mom might be able to help and...”

Daisy shook her head and slid a large legal-sized envelope in front of Gloria. It was the envelope that Jamie had dropped off during the party.

“What's this?”

“An offer. Jamie gave it to me yesterday.” Even now, even after everything, saying Jamie's name made something unexpected happen in her abdomen.

Before opening the envelope, Gloria took a deep drink of wine, as if that would fortify her for whatever the envelope contained. She pulled out the documents and read them through.

“So, Alan found a buyer, huh?”

“Yep.”

She flipped back to the front page. “A French bistro?” Gloria looked through the documents again. “I don't see anything about the Nana Sin name—do you get to keep it?”

Daisy shrugged. “That was supposed to be the deal.”

“Well, that's something, isn't it?”

With a halfhearted shrug, Daisy gazed around the kitchen of the only real home she'd ever known. It wasn't just the name of the bakery that mattered to her. It was this place. Every nook and cranny. Every wall and window. Every part of it was a part of her grandmother. A part of her.

How the hell was she supposed to let it go?

“I'm so sorry.”

Daisy met her friend's gaze, touched by the tears sliding down her cheeks. “I will never forget what you did for me, Glo. You are the absolute best friend, and I don't know how I can ever repay you.”

“You would do the same for me. I know you would.” She raised her glass to Daisy. “And I know that you will move past this and succeed. One day.”

Daisy touched her glass to Gloria's. “Maybe. One day. But that day is not today.”

* * *

S
TRANGE
, D
AISY
FELT
absolutely nothing—as if she was in one of those deprivation chambers and all sensory stimuli had been removed. Sounds were muted: the ring of telephones, the sound of her heels on the tile, the opening and closing of doors. All the typical office din blended into crackling white noise in her head.

She knocked on the meeting room door and when Jamie opened it, even her stomach had no response to him. Not to his size, his towering height, or his pleasing, masculine scent.

“Come in, Daisy.”

In her current state of mind, ordinary things struck Daisy as odd. For example, someone telling her to come in. She'd knocked, hadn't she? What was she supposed to do if not come in? What were her options? To be obstinate and stand outside? Throw a temper tantrum? Lie on her desk and throw dough at the ceiling?

The ceiling. Hmm. She wondered if she should bother to have that cleaned before the sale went through.

Nah.

“Have a seat.”

She sat. That was when she noticed that Alan wasn't there, and in his place was a dark-haired woman already sitting at the table. “Who are you?”

“This is Priya Naidoo,” Jamie said.

“Hi, Daisy.” The woman stood and shook Daisy's hand.

“Priya's your lawyer. Now, you have the right to retain alternate council if you don't want Priya, but, as was explained to you at our last meeting, you are required to have independent legal advice.”

“Got it.”

“So, would you like to retain Ms. Naidoo's services?”

“Yep.” She held out her hand. “Give me the papers. I'll sign whatever needs to be signed.”

Priya cast a glance at Jamie before moving next to Daisy, sliding a file folder along the table top.

“I'll leave you two to it, then,” Jamie said.

Daisy suddenly felt something, she wasn't sure what, when Jamie left the room. Anger? Annoyance? Despair?

“I've looked over your file and—”

Daisy put her hand on the papers and pulled them close. “I don't care what it says. Please. Just tell me where to sign.”

“I know this is hard, but it's my obligation to make sure you understand everything you are signing. For example—” Priya flipped through some pages “—here are the terms of the sale. You need to vacate the property in a month.”

An invisible fist punched Daisy square in the gut. She leaned over, the wind sucked right out of her. The lawyer stopped speaking and waited. Finally, Daisy felt a soft, feminine touch on her back.

“I've been through it myself, Ms. Sinclair. I know how hard it is.”

Daisy raised her face, wanting to challenge the other woman, but found only kindness and compassion in her expression.

“I know you won't believe this, but the one thing I've learned in this business is that, while starting over is scary and never, ever easy, it's often the very thing we need most.”

Now the woman sounded like her mother, except that for some strange reason, the words were more palatable coming from her mouth. “Okay,” she said with a small nod. “Let's go through the paperwork.”

In less time than Daisy imagined it would take to split up and reconfigure every aspect of her life, everything was signed. Once the papers went in front of a judge, Daisy would be divorced.

And without a livelihood.

And alone.

And...tired. So tired.

Daisy walked through a thick, murky fog as she exited the building. She was vaguely aware of Jamie's presence and of him asking her if she was okay. But it honestly took too much energy to respond. Even the parts of her that so often responded to Jamie—against her wishes—were subdued.

Outside the building, she sat on a bench.

Now what?

Her phone rang and Daisy made a grab for it. She didn't know why, really. Maybe because it gave her something to do.

“Daisy, it's me.”

“Mom?”

“How are you, honey?”

Honey?
Daisy couldn't remember the last time her mother had called her honey.

“How do you think I am?”

There was a pause and then Cynthia said quietly, “I'm sorry.”

“How'd you know?”

“Gloria told me. She said you were signing the papers this morning.”

“Yep.”

“Do you want to come over?”

“No.”

More silence.

“Okay, then, Mom. I'll talk to you—”

“Listen,” her mother interrupted her before she could hang up. “Do you remember my friend Julie?”

Daisy had to think for a second. “Yeah, sure. Why?”

“Well, she's having a sort of garden party.”

“That's nice.” Why the hell was her mother telling her about her friend right now? As if Daisy cared about her mother's friend's garden party.

“She asked me to invite you, as well.”

“Me? Why?”

“Well...”

Daisy sighed. “Mom, I'm really not in the mood for a social gathering.” What was her mother thinking? Oh. Right. She wasn't thinking. As usual.

“But it's not until next Friday and—” Cynthia stopped. In a soft voice, she continued, “Never mind. Of course you're not in the mood. The last thing you want to do is celebrate.”

She got that right.

“Forget I mentioned it.”

“Okay.”

“I'll talk to you soon—”

Wait a second... “Celebrate?” Daisy interrupted. “What's the occasion?”

Her mother laughed. It was a happy yet somewhat awkward sound. “Well,” she said, and then cleared her throat. “Alexander asked me to marry him. It's an engagement party.”

* * *

D
AISY
S
INCLAIR
WALKED
right past him as if she didn't even know him. Or rather, as if she knew him only as her ex-husband's lawyer, not as the man who'd most recently made love to her. He retreated into his office, staring out the window, watching her collapse on the bench outside the building, the very picture of dejection.

He forced himself to watch and to feel the pressure build in his chest. Once again, he'd failed a woman he cared about, which was exactly why he'd stayed away from attachment in the first place. It inevitably came crashing down, leaving nothing but hurt. He leaned his shoulder against the window frame. Why did he care about Daisy so much, anyway? Why had he put his job on the line for her? They'd spent one wonderful night together, but that was it. Of course, there was the incident in the gym. That was... Jamie didn't have words for what that was. Incredibly hot?

He groaned.

The reality was, he might not have known Daisy very long, but he knew what kind of woman she was: the kind you came home to every night and had a long-term relationship with. She was the kind of woman who was searching for happily-ever-after. Even after divorce, she probably still believed in it. That was not something Jamie could provide, nor what he believed.

He was a cynic. He didn't believe in happily-ever-after. He believed in fun for now because happiness never lasted.

He finally turned from the window, finding some solace in the fact that Daisy was now speaking to someone on the phone—no surprise, since the woman had a wide network of friends—and made his way to his desk, where his inbox overflowed.

Helen buzzed him on his intercom. “Alan Smith is ready to sign when you are.”

Rubbing his temples, Jamie leaned his elbows on his desk.

Fuck.

His fingers curled into tight fists. There was no way he could face Daisy's ex right now because he might do something unspeakable, like punch the guy in the face. The fact that the thought gave him a warped sense of pleasure was confirmation he needed to pass this off.

“Lyle's around. Get him to finish up with the paperwork. I've got something else pressing at the moment.”

It was true, sort of. He pulled the file for Chloe Van Der Kamp. He'd met with her yesterday after her husband had broken into the house and stolen the gun collection. It turned out there was a history of violence there. They'd spent the better part of the morning drawing up an affidavit.

Jamie checked his watch. He had to be in court in an hour to petition for a protective order for Mrs. Van Der Kamp. But instead of gathering everything together and getting ready to go, Jamie sat at his desk and rested his head in his hands, images of his sister surfacing behind closed lids. This always happened whenever he had to do this. The worst part was, no matter how hard he tried, he could not see his sister as she'd been, gentle and sweet, full of life and potential, but only as they'd found her, lifeless and beaten.

* * *

D
AISY
HAD
NO
intention of going to an engagement party. No way. Though her mother had offered to have the party postponed, Daisy had insisted that Cynthia not change the date for her benefit. That would just have made her feel worse. But it didn't mean she had to attend the stupid thing. Daisy had plans and they involved staying home and moping. There was nothing wrong with a good mope when your life had completely disintegrated. She hadn't showered since yesterday, when they'd closed the doors to Nana Sin's for good. Now she wore her grungiest clothes, had her hair tied up in an unappealing knot at the top of her head, and was ready to clean cupboards. It was best to have something to do while moping. Made the moping less mopey.

Standing on a chair, she started with the neglected cupboard above the refrigerator. Daisy hadn't opened it in years, and she was surprised by the contents: old tins, chipped plates and random, cracked cups and saucers.

“Honestly, Nana. What were you holding on to these things for?” Daisy muttered as she hopped down off the chair. She picked up a plate and turned it over. It wasn't even good china, just regular, daily crockery. She momentarily considered tossing the plates at a wall—Greek-style—but decided against it. Her days of throwing things at walls and ceilings were over. Now it was time to clean.

She found a trash bag under the sink and swept the broken crockery into the bag. The tins were a different story. Some were antique and others were holiday containers her grandmother used to fill with treats to give to friends. Maybe she'd hold on to those.

From the boxes lining the floor, Daisy selected a big one and began opening up the tins to stack them. Among them was a small tea tin, and when Daisy picked it up, she heard the
tink
of something rattling around inside.

The skin on the back of her neck pricked as though someone was behind her, softly blowing. The prickling sensation crept up to the top of her scalp as she removed the lid and peered inside.

Her grandmother's diamond engagement ring winked back at her. Carefully Daisy removed it and held it up to the light.

“What are you doing in there?” Daisy whispered. She and her mother had looked all over for the ring after Nana died. They'd thought it had been lost.

As if in answer to Daisy's question, the bells of her grandmother's clock on the mantel rang, letting her know it was six o'clock. The engagement party would be starting in an hour. If she hurried, she'd just be able to make it.

* * *

H
ER
MOTHER
'
S
FRIEND
Julie lived in the exclusive Lincoln Park district, and Daisy stood in a quiet corner of the beautiful garden, an untouched flute of champagne in her hand, wearing a brightly flowered dress that did not reflect her mood. She'd have worn black—she was definitely in more of a black mood than a big splashy flower mood—but as Daisy went through her closet, she realized she actually didn't own a black dress.