Daisy nodded and smiled as she listened to her son’s nonstop commentary. He’d had a wonderful time. She was glad he had gone. Glad Cal and his parents had had the joy of him.
Mostly, though, she was glad he was home again.
And when she went to bed that night, she thought, I can do this. I’m going to be fine.
She and Cal could cope with trading Charlie back and forth. Charlie wasn’t a basket case. He was a normal happy little boy. Life was good.
She didn’t think about Alex—or his perfect woman.
At least she tried not to.
“How much longer till Christmas?” Charlie asked. He’d been asking for the past four days, ever since he’d got back from Cal’s parents’.
“Oh, a long time,” Daisy said, tucking him into bed. She’d been saying the same thing every day since, too, because a person who was Almost Five had no concept of time, and she’d quickly discovered that if she said “soon,” Charlie expected it to be “right after lunch.”
“And my birthday?”
“Not quite as long.”
Charlie made a face. “They should hurry up.”
“All in good time.” Even though she had caught up on things over Thanksgiving already, four days later, she felt her to-do lists getting longer by the minute. Lots of people suddenly remembered they wanted family photos for Christmas, and Daisy, understanding the desire, tried not to disappoint any of them.
She had other jobs, too. Most were from repeat customers who wanted her to do some editorial work, and a promo for a boutique in Soho. But one phone call the day after Thanksgiving had surprised her.
“This is Lauren Nicols,” the woman had said when Daisy answered. “You did the photos for my piece on Alexandros Antonides.”
“Oh! Yes, of course. I hope they were suitable,” Daisy said, her heart quickening.
“More than,” Lauren Nicols said warmly. “I was delighted. Alex told me you’d be good, but they were better than I’d hoped. The black and white surprised me, but it was perfect. You caught the man.”
“I hope so,” Daisy said honestly. “I tried.”
“Oh, you did,” the other woman assured her. “I wondered if you’d be willing to do some more for me.”
“Of Alex?” Daisy asked, startled.
“No, Alex’s article is in production. But I do other personality pieces for trade periodicals, usually three or four a month. Would you be interested in working with me on a couple of them at least?”
“I—” Daisy stopped herself before she could refuse, because really, why should she? She had enjoyed doing the photo shoot of Alex, and what better way to make sure her brain kept him in the “business” folder of her mind than to start filling it with other assignments, as well? “Yes,” she had said. “I’d like that.”
And so she had two shoots for Lauren to do before the holidays, as well.
“Go to sleep,” she told Charlie now. “It will get here sooner.”
“How much sooner?”
Daisy bent and kissed him good night. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Charlie made a face. But eventually he screwed his eyes shut, and Daisy, knowing that was going to be his best attempt, smiled and turned out the light. “Night, Chaz,” she said softly. Then she pulled the door and went down the hall to her office where she’d be working until midnight at least.
First on the docket were the wedding photos she’d taken last night. Wednesday night weddings weren’t common, but this had been a small intimate affair to which Daisy had been thrilled to be invited—and eager to take the photos.
They were her wedding present to the couple because both the bride and the groom were “hers.”
Seeing Rafaela Cruz, a tech at Murphy’s veterinarian’s office, and Gino Martinelli, a cop who lived in Finn MacCauley’s building, standing at the altar together made Daisy’s heart sing for she had helped them find each other.
When she’d learned that besides being a photographer, Daisy was a matchmaker, Rafaela had said, “Huh. Not sure I believe in that.”
“Some people don’t,” Daisy had replied. She wasn’t in the market to twist anyone’s arm. But Rafaela had wanted to know more because, as she said, “I don’t believe there’s any good men left.” So Daisy had spent time talking to her, trying to discover who, beneath her bluster, Rafaela really was.
Even when she finally said she wanted to try it, Rafaela had had her doubts.
And she and Gino had definitely not been “love at first sight.”
Gino, who was Rip MacCauley’s soccer coach, had been badly burned in an earlier relationship. But somehow he was the one Daisy had thought of when Rafaela had challenged her to “prove there’s one good man.”
“Come watch him coach,” Daisy had suggested.
Rafaela had dismissed the idea. “I don’t want a coach. I want a husband.”
“You want a patient man,” Daisy said. “A man who works hard and values kids and will be there for you and your family no matter what.”
“Yes, but—” Rafaela had protested.
“Maybe Gino could be that man. Unless you’re afraid to try?” Daisy had challenged her right back. Then she’d turned around and challenged a reluctant Gino, too.
“She’s too pretty,” Gino had said. “She’ll want some hotshot stud.”
Daisy had just looked him up and down. “And you’re not a stud?”
Gino had laughed at that. “All right. Bring her on.”
They’d been cautious to the point that Daisy sometimes wanted to bang their heads together. But gradually Rafaela and Gino had faced their doubts, had given each other a shot. Had discovered in each other what Daisy had seen from early days. Over the summer they had fallen in love.
And now they were married.
Daisy’s gift to them was going to be a book of photos she’d taken throughout their courtship and at their wedding. She just needed to get it finished. The pages from the courtship were done. Now she picked up the wedding invitation and set it on the flatbed scanner. It was high rag content paper, heavy and elegant.
Daisy remembered when she’d plucked it out of the mailbox right before Thanksgiving. She had stared at it, feeling an odd sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach because she hadn’t thought it was Rafaela and Gino’s invitation at all.
She’d thought it was Alex’s.
She’d been shocked at the relief she’d felt upon opening it to
