The Secret Sister (11 page)

“
Laney?
Laney, where are you?”

The panic in Rafe's voice made Laney drop her hands and grope around to reclaim her belongings. “I have to go!”

Afraid she might tumble hurrying down the steps, Maisey took her arm. “Wait a sec. I'd like to walk with you, if that's okay.”

“But I don't want my dad to see you! I wasn't supposed to come here.”

“You should always obey your father,” she said. “But I'll tell him I didn't mind having you visit.”

Laney didn't seem too sure that approach would solve the problem, but Maisey didn't give her a chance to protest. “Over here!” she called to Rafe.

He came tearing through the trees as they reached the bottom of the steps, looking immensely relieved once he saw that his daughter was safe. “Laney, you scared the shit out me,” he said, obviously upset.

Laney's mouth dropped open. “Daddy, you said a bad word!”

“I don't care!” he nearly shouted. “You didn't do what I told you. What were you thinking?”

She lowered her head.

“I want an answer!”

“I just...I just came to see Maisey,” she said, her voice small.

“But I told you that you
couldn't
come and see Maisey, remember?”

“It was only for a minute...”

Maisey didn't know what to say. She hated to see Laney punished, but Rafe had to teach her that she couldn't go wandering off on her own. The ocean wasn't far, and she could run into any number of dangers. “I didn't mind,” she said, trying to keep her promise.

Rafe ignored her. “I guess I'm going to have to take away your new book.”

At that, Laney's lip jutted out and began to quiver. “Then I can't learn to braid.”

“You'll just have to wait,” he said.

“No, Daddy!” She started to cry. “I'm sorry!”

Rafe shoved a hand through his hair and sighed as he lifted his eyes to meet Maisey's. “I can't believe she woke you up. I told her at least five times that she couldn't come over here, that she'd have to thank you tonight.”

“I
couldn't
wait,” Laney sobbed, her voice plaintive.

Maisey smiled as Rafe, melting at the sight of those tears, bent to pick her up. “I needed to get up, anyway,” she said. “Besides, I've invaded her world, and she's curious. I'm sure she wouldn't have disobeyed you otherwise.”

“Living next door is hardly invading her world,” he said dryly.

“In a way it is. I'm new. It's understandable.”

Laney buried her face in his neck. “Don't be mad at me, Daddy.”

He pressed her head to his shoulder. “This is the part of being a father I'm not good at,” he muttered.

He looked pretty good at it, in Maisey's opinion. She raised her eyebrows in question.

“Discipline,” he explained. “Somehow
any
punishment hurts me worse than it does her. Maybe if she was a boy, or... You know, I could be tougher.”

Laney had her father's complete devotion, but Maisey could tell she was a good child, so she didn't think he had anything to worry about. “I can't blame you. She's really sweet.”

“She's never wandered off before.” As he rubbed Laney's back, his eyes flicked over Maisey, making her feel self-conscious about the fact that she was wearing the same tank she'd worn yesterday. Thankfully, this time it was dry. And if Rafe had any interest in what he saw, he didn't reveal it. He merely gave her a polite nod and thanked her for the book before carrying his daughter away.

Maisey knew she'd successfully put him on notice that yesterday was a one-time thing. He was keeping his distance.

She told herself she was relieved. And yet she couldn't forget the vision of Rafe holding his daughter so tenderly as he walked back home. It reminded her of the safety she'd felt in his arms, of how easily he'd carried
her
to his place, and what he'd done to her—and
with
her—after that.

11

M
aisey had agreed to meet her mother at the flower shop around three. So she did what she could to arrange her new furniture. Then she ate the leftovers Pippa had brought the night before and jumped into the shower. She wasn't planning on working today. She was just going to get the keys so she could open or close when necessary, meet the manager and then go grocery-shopping.

She left in plenty of time. But she was so busy studying all the changes in Keys Crossing as she puttered through town on her brother's scooter, she arrived ten minutes late, awash with nostalgia. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed Fairham.

“
There
you are,” Josephine said as soon as she came through the door. “Where have you been?”

“I'm not
that
late,” she replied when she heard the sharp edge in her mother's voice. “I guess it takes longer to get around on a scooter than I expected.”

A large woman with shoulders like an NFL lineman stood behind the counter. “Don't worry,” she said, her round face wreathed in a smile. “It's not like I'm going anywhere.”

“Maybe you're not, but
I
am.” Josephine glanced pointedly at her watch. “I have a hair appointment over on the mainland.”

“I'm sorry,” Maisey said. “But I'm sure we can manage. Why don't you go now?”

She shook her head, clearly annoyed at Maisey's dismissiveness. “Let me at least introduce you to Nancy before I leave. She's been running the shop for...what, two years, Nancy?”

Nancy, who was somewhere in her thirties, tugged on her tight dress. “That's right, Mrs. Lazarow. It'll be two years next month. I started five days before Halloween.”

“Nancy's quite talented with the arrangements,” Josephine said, but Maisey could easily guess what her mother must think about Nancy's appearance. Josephine set high standards for everyone. She'd once demanded that another employee lose thirty pounds. She'd said she had an image to maintain, and the woman was hurting her “brand.”

That employee had subsequently quit, so maybe Josephine had learned her lesson and been kinder to Nancy.

“Pleased to meet you,” Maisey said.

“Your mother tells me you'll be taking over your brother's position.”

“That's right. Until he gets back.”

“Do we know when that might be?” Although Nancy's smile didn't waver, there was something about the hope in her voice that made Maisey wonder if her curiosity about Keith's return was more personal than professional.

Fortunately, Josephine was so rushed she didn't seem to notice. She'd never approve of someone as plain as Nancy for Keith. But, as much as Maisey loved her brother, she felt it was in
Nancy's
best interests that they not get involved. He was too troubled to make anyone a good husband—or even a good boyfriend.

“Not quite yet,” Maisey said.

Josephine pulled her keys from her Burberry bag. “As I told you last night at dinner, I've added on to the store and done a few other things, but...I'll let Nancy show you all that. I've got to go, or my hair will look like this for another week. Bianca's booked solid.”

Maisey gave her mother an air kiss on each cheek before Josephine hurried out the door.

Once she was gone, and her perfume wasn't so overpowering, the scent of the roses and gardenias and calla lilies Maisey remembered so distinctly from her youth became more prevalent. The most fragrant flowers weren't always her favorites, however. She preferred hydrangeas, delphinium, freesia and heliconia to the more traditional long-stemmed roses and carnation-type arrangements. Her mother's creations were high-end, unique, trendy, works of art.

“How long have you been back on the island?” Nancy asked.

“I got in a couple of days ago.”

“Your mother must be thrilled.”

Maisey decided that comment was better left without a response. “How's business these days?”

“Great. We're getting a lot of orders from the mainland, if you can believe it.”

“Do we deliver to the mainland?”

“We do now. Your mother says we shouldn't turn customers away.”

“What's putting us on the map?”

“It's not our prices,” she said with a laugh. “It has to be the quality. Fortunately, people are willing to pay for superior work.”

Maisey took note of the various arrangements waiting in the display coolers for pickup or delivery. “They
are
special.”

Nancy showed her the new walk-in cooler. It was twice as big as the one Josephine had before, and it held a more extravagant assortment of flowers. Love's in Bloom also boasted an expanded workroom, a small kitchen area and a tiny, closet-like office to one side, where Nancy could handle the computer work.

“How many delivery people do we employ these days?” Maisey asked.

“Five.” Nancy showed her a list of names and numbers pinned to a bulletin board. “Here's a roster,” she said.

“Five's a lot for a small island floral company.”

“We need them—although we're currently struggling to keep up with the production end, which is why I'm so glad to see you. Your brother was terrific at taking the orders and doing the books. He was good at managing the website, too. But he had no talent for arranging, didn't even want to try. So Suzie Cooper is the only help I've had, and she's been off sick for the past few days. There's some sort of cough going around.”

“Pippa at Coldiron House has been down with it, too. But...doesn't my mother help out occasionally?”

“Not much anymore. She mostly...troubleshoots.”

“Troubleshoots?”

“Figures out ways we can improve the business.”

“I see.”

“So trying to get by without Suzie has been a real problem.”

“Sounds like I got here just in time.”

“You did. Suzie might come back for a couple of months, but then she's going on maternity leave.”

“Why not hire someone else?”

Nancy picked up where she'd left off, working on an arrangement she'd been constructing when Maisey arrived. “I've tried. Your mother hasn't been happy with their work.”

“She's always been particular.”

“Which is why business is good. I get that. But...we're reaching the breaking point.”

No wonder her mother had offered her this job, Maisey thought. And here she'd assumed Josephine had dozens of people to pick from. Apparently she'd already gone through them.

“You're under a lot of pressure. Here, let me see what I can do to help you catch up.”

Nancy seemed startled by the offer. “
Today?
But I thought you weren't starting until you got settled.”

“If we're behind, we gotta do what we gotta do, right?”

“Thank the Lord you're not a spoiled brat,” Nancy joked, and handed her an apron.

* * *

It'd been many years since Maisey had worked with flowers. She felt rusty, out of practice, but found herself enjoying the creative aspect. She had less room to use her imagination on internet orders; there, she had to match the picture the purchaser had selected. But Love's in Bloom had plenty of local orders, too, and many people provided only minimal instructions. “Use lots of roses,” or “I always like whatever Mrs. Lazarow comes up with.” Although Maisey wasn't her mother and didn't have nearly the same talent with flowers, she'd learned from the best, and she wasn't bad. She was proud of what she created.

It was seven before Nancy glanced at the clock and announced that they should go home. “That's enough for one day. Thank you for pitching in,” she said. “You saved my life. Now I'll be able to fall into bed and get some sleep. I can't tell you how much I appreciate everything you've done. You work fast, too.”

Maisey liked Nancy, especially when Nancy emphasized her gratitude by giving Maisey a big hug. “God, I feel like I might break you, you're such a stick,” she complained. “Why do you have to make me look so bad?”

Although she was obviously teasing, Maisey was as self-conscious about her weight as Nancy was. “I haven't gotten skinny on purpose.”

“Some people just have all the luck, huh?”

Maisey grinned at her.

“I'm down about five pounds, but—” Nancy grimaced “—as you can see, it's like taking a cup of water out of the ocean.”

As far as Maisey was concerned, Nancy's personality made her attractive despite the extra weight. “Is there a special occasion coming up?”

“Not really.” She sucked in her stomach and turned to evaluate herself in the mirror on the far wall. “There
is
someone I'd like to impress, though.”

Maisey recalled the way she'd asked about Keith and hoped it wasn't him. “Anyone I know?”

Nancy's smile disappeared. “No. Some guy I met at...” She couldn't seem to finish that sentence, so she simply repeated the first part of it. “Some guy I met.”

Maybe “some guy” she'd been working with? A guy who was incredibly handsome but just as damaged?

Women typically liked Keith, but no one stuck with him for very long. Maisey wanted to tell Nancy to be careful what she wished for. Instead, she murmured, “I can't imagine that whoever it is won't like you just the way you are.”

Impulsively, Nancy gave her another squeeze. “Thanks,” she said, and showed Maisey how to close the shop. “In case it's ever necessary,” she explained. “So many things have changed while you've been gone.”

Maisey was exhausted but oddly happy as she drove her scooter over to Smitty's. This was the first productive day she'd had in a long time. She wasn't writing, which she would've preferred, but at least she was working, creating, helping someone...

She was wandering down the aisles, loading up her cart, when she heard someone exclaim, “Oh, my Lord! Look who it is.”

A tall, dark-haired woman approached with a chubby baby in her arms and a two-or three-year-old toddler tagging along. Maisey tried to place her—and couldn't.

“Don't tell me you don't remember me!”

Maisey could only give her a blank look.

“It's Dinah! Dinah Swenson! We went to middle school together!”

This
was the girl in Maisey's art class who could draw so well? “Of course,” Maisey said. “I'm sorry it took me a minute.”

“We moved away the summer before high school, so it's been a while. And I've had a bit of plastic surgery,” she admitted. “I caught the acting bug while we were living in California, but when I wasn't getting any parts, I had a nose job, cheek implants and then a boob job.” Moving the baby to one arm, she held a hand to her left breast. “They look good, don't they? Los Angeles has some talented doctors—the
best
. You can't even tell they're not real. And my face?
So
much better. That's why you didn't recognize me. When I first moved back, no one else did, either.”

Maisey nearly laughed but wasn't completely sure Dinah was joking. “You look...fabulous,” she said. “Not that you weren't pretty before.”

Dinah waved her off. “You don't have to be polite. I was ugly as a mud fence. I fixed that, but I can't act worth shit. So I had to give up the dream.”

This time Maisey
did
allow herself a small chuckle. “You decided to get married and have a family instead?”

“I did. So much for the glamorous life. Chuckie Ambrose—you remember him? The short, freckled-faced boy who kept getting in trouble in math class for throwing spit wads at me?” She stopped her toddler from pulling the pasta bags off the shelves. “He had a crush on me ever since. And you should see him now. He's six-foot-four, two hundred and fifty pounds! Anyway, he found me on Facebook six years ago, and one thing led to another. Before I knew it, he was buying me a plane ticket so I could fly back and marry him.”

“Chuckie, huh?” Maisey grinned. “From what I remember, he wasn't as tall as I was when we were sophomores.”

“Like I said, he shot up. Now he's the basketball coach over at the high school. Teaches math, too. Loves it. Would never leave. Which is why
I
had to give up
my
career.”

By her own admission, she hadn't actually had much of a career, but Maisey could tell she was merely acting put-upon to show the sacrifice she'd made for love. “Your children are darling.”

“Yeah, hopefully they won't have to go under the knife, like I did.” She nudged Maisey with her free hand. “I wish I had a picture of the look on your face. I'm joking,” she said. “Of course I'm joking.”

Maisey didn't remember Dinah being quite so...unconventional. “Right.”

“What brings you back to town?”

This was the question Maisey had been dreading. She figured she might as well put the word out. Get it over with. The more she acted as if she didn't want people to know, the more curious they'd be. And if Dinah could be so honest...

“My husband left me for another woman.” Maisey didn't say anything about Ellie; she didn't see why mere acquaintances had to know about her daughter. The divorce provided enough of a distraction. It made her look pathetic, but revealing Jack's abandonment stopped people from probing the deepest source of her pain.

“What a bastard!” Dinah said.

That pretty much obliterated any anxiety Maisey had been feeling, which made it easier to be generous about her ex. “He's not
that
bad,” she said. “I guess I just didn't have what he needed.”

“Well, if you haven't gotten back at him yet, I'd be happy to help you. I tell Chuckie that he'll be damn sorry if he ever cheats on me.” She used her fingers like a pair of scissors.

Maisey laughed and, as she did, she realized how good it felt to laugh—hard and out loud. She was about to tell Dinah as much when she heard her name being called and turned to find Rafe's daughter gripping the handle of a cart guided by an older, pleasant-looking woman with gray hair swept up in a bun. “Laney!”