“Did you take them the cookies we baked last night?”
“No, I thought we’d go over together.” Last night the cookies had seemed the neighborly thing to do. Pillsbury refrigerated cookie dough was one of her specialties, after all. Today the cookies seemed to hint that she was angling for a way to meet Serenity Bay’s newest and most eligible bachelor. Would he think she was being neighborly or out to snare him?
Oh, for heaven’s sake, they’re just cookies. Who cares what he thinks?
Casey slid Sarah’s iPad out of its case and turned it on. “You said he’s a new teacher at SBH, right?”
“That’s right.”
“What’s his name?”
“Oh, um, Jonathan Marshall. I think. Why?”
Her daughter tapped on the screen. “Marshall. One L or two?”
“Probably two. What are you doing?”
“Searching for him online.”
“Casey! You shouldn’t do that. It’s like an invasion of privacy.”
“If it’s on the internet, Mom, it’s not private.”
“That’s true, but it still seems kind of stalkerish.”
“Yep, but everybody does it.” Her daughter grinned widely, angling the device so Sarah could see the screen. “Does this look like him?”
“Oh. Yes, it does.” And she didn’t have to ask the identity of the woman next to him in the photograph. The stunning brunette was Georgette Ogilvie, who last year left her job as news anchor at Vancouver’s top-rated TV station, divorced her husband, and was already remarried and living in Europe. So...Jonathan Marshall was the ex-husband.
“He used to be married to that lady from the TV.” Casey swiped the screen. “And they have a daughter named Kate.”
Sarah stood and glanced out the window in time to see him on the driveway below, opening the back of his SUV and hauling out two potted plants. Thinking that a man who kept houseplants must have something going for him was silly, but she thought it just the same. And he was a teacher, after all, and a parent. Probably a good parent, since he seemed to have custody of his daughter.
“Says here that he used to teach at a high school in West Vancouver and...oh, he coaches soccer. Cool. I wonder if he’ll coach my team.”
“I don’t know, and you can’t very well ask him.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll wonder how you found out he’s a coach.”
Casey flashed another grin. “Good point. I’ll have to be more subtle.”
The thought of her daughter being anything other than direct had Sarah smiling as she turned back to her desk, organized the invoices and bank statements that still hadn’t been entered into her accounting program, and tucked them into her briefcase. She would have to take them to the store and hope to carve some time out of a busy afternoon to process them. Otherwise she’d have to put in an extra hour or two tonight.
“I’ll run downstairs and see what we have for lunch, then I have to get to the shop. Juliet’s on her own this morning and she’ll need a break. What would you like?”
“What’ve we got?”
Not much. “Grilled cheese sandwiches?”
Casey shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I threw out the bread at breakfast.” She scrunched her nose. “Moldy.”
Gross. “Then I guess that leaves us with a can of chicken noodle soup and crackers. I’ll grab a few groceries on my way home.” For the millionth time, she wondered how every area of her life was so well organized and yet her culinary skills were nonexistent.
“It’s pizza and movie night. One pepperoni and one ham and pineapple.” Casey shoved the iPad back into its sleeve and peeled off her sweatshirt. “I need to have a shower. I’m covered with doggy slobber and kitty litter. They were shorthanded this morning so I helped clean out the kennels after I brought the dogs back.”
“Pizza it is.” She really is a good kid, Sarah thought, making a mental note of the request while thinking she should also bring home something a little more nutritious. As long as she didn’t have to cook it.
“Speaking of cats...”
“Actually, we were talking about pizza.”
This time her daughter’s grin had a mischievous innocence to it. “Nice try, Mom. Cats make good pets and they don’t need nearly as much attention as a dog.”
“Casey,” she warned. Even the thought of having a cat in the house made her eyelids itch. “Don’t even think about it.”
“All right, then. We’ll have to settle for Petey.” Casey tossed the final sassy suggestion over her shoulder as she dashed out of the room, leaving Sarah no opportunity to respond.
Every day Sarah counted her blessings that she had a daughter who worked hard at school and she was beyond grateful that at fourteen, her girl was still more interested in animals than she was in boys. All good qualities, but Sarah couldn’t relent on adding a dog to their already-hectic household. Her daughter had a way of wearing her down, but not this time. While she was the first to acknowledge that Casey’s hard work and enthusiasm deserved recognition, giving in to her desire to have a dog was not the way to go.
She double-checked the contents of her briefcase, zipped it shut and carried it downstairs just as the moving van pulled away from the house next door. From inside the screen door she watched until it disappeared around the corner, and then the street was quiet again.
Lunch, she reminded herself. She would heat the soup in the microwave and have a quick meal with Casey, then they would deliver the cookies and welcome their new neighbors to Serenity Bay before she left for work. Until then, she wouldn’t let herself think about the man next door who was both single and singularly good-looking. If there was no room in her life for man’s best friend, there was definitely no room for a man.
* * *
“DAD? HAVE YOU seen the box that has my shoes in it?”
Jonathan Marshall studied his fourteen-year-old fashionista as she clattered down the stairs of their new home. Then he shifted his attention to the piles of packing boxes piled willy-nilly in the foyer, living room and beyond. Stacked in their former home in West Vancouver, they had represented a fresh start. Now those same boxes were the source of some serious second thoughts.
Was this the right decision? Was leaving the city and moving to the small coastal town of Serenity Bay the best thing for him? For Kate? She sure didn’t think so. She hadn’t wanted to leave her friends, the city, their home or her school, and in that order, although he suspected their condo’s close proximity to the mall was what she’d really miss. He understood that, all of it. He only asked that she keep an open mind, all the while realizing that was a tall order. If there was one thing a high school teacher knew above all else, it was that teenagers rarely had open minds. And why would they?
