Chapter Two
Chapter One
“I got the job!” Rushing into the tiny, downtown book nook, a breathless Catrina Mitchell Jordan danced the gray-haired proprietor around shelves stacked with leather-bound tomes. “I got the job, I got the job, I got the job!”
Her final exuberant trill was completed by the blending of a rumbaesque hip check and the hip-wriggling victory dance of a football player after a game-winning touchdown.
“Of course you got the job.” Gracie Applegate chuckled, smoothing a ruffled strand of silver hair back into her gleaming chignon. “There was never a doubt in my mind.”
“Well, there was plenty of doubt in my mind. If not for that tip you gave me, I’d still be scouring the want ads and wondering how to pay next month’s rent.” Suddenly limp with relief, Catrina sagged against the checkout counter fighting foolish tears. She’d been out of work for weeks, and her meager savings account was nearly drained. “I don’t know who you called, or how you managed to work this miracle, but I’m forever in your debt. Thank you so much.”
Gracie flicked her wrist as if shooing a pesky fly. “Pish and silliness, child. It’s Blaine Architectural that should be thanking me for sending over the best accounts receivable clerk they’ll ever lay eyes on. I’m sure my dear friend Martha in the personnel department would agree.”
“Is there anyone in Los Angeles that you don’t personally know?”
“Oh, I imagine a few folks have slipped past, but one of the perks of owning the finest antique and rare book establishment in the county is the pleasure of meeting lots of lovely, intelligent people. Speaking of which…” Angling a sly glance, she feigned interest in refilling a crystal bowl with fragrant potpourri. “Did you have an opportunity to meet the head honcho himself?”
“Mr. Blaine?” Catrina shook her head, still a bit nervous about meeting the fellow that every employee to whom she’d been introduced had described in the most glowing terms. “Apparently a group of managers had negotiated a lucrative contract to renovate a downtown office complex so he took them all to lunch as a reward.”
“How nice. Why are your eyebrows all scrunched up, dear?”
“He took them to lunch in San Francisco, Gracie. Just piled them into a rented plane and flew it himself.” Catrina shuddered. “Rich people make me nervous. My sister Laura made the mistake of marrying a rich man. He nearly destroyed her.”
Of course, another rich man had galloped to the rescue, just like Prince Charming on the proverbial snow-white steed, although Catrina considered that to be sheer luck.
Gracie tsk-tsked, skimming a disapproving frown in Catrina’s direction. “Now, now, dear, you can’t judge all well-to-do folks by the actions of a few. Besides, if Rick Blaine were as rich as the rumors imply, he wouldn’t have had to rent a plane would he?”
Catrina couldn’t help but smile. “No, I suppose not.”
A wreath of laugh lines bracketed the older woman’s thin mouth, and her blue eyes twinkled with peculiar slyness, as if she knew something that nobody else knew.
And she probably did. Gracie Applegate was a dichotomy, equal parts of grandmotherly wisdom and elfin mischief blended with a pinch of mystery and a dash of clairvoyance. Catrina adored her.
So did Heather.
A cranky gurgle caught Catrina’s attention. She moved through the open doorway into the bookstore office to retrieve her sleepy toddler from a playpen that had been set up behind Gracie’s desk. “There, there, sweetums, did you have a nice nap?”
The baby’s hair was moist and tangled. A reddened pressure mark stained her right cheek. She fussed, stretched, patted Catrina’s face. “Gamma Gracie gave me apple.”
“Did she now?” Catrina widened her eyes, affectionately exaggerating interest in the mundane information. “That was very nice of Gamma Gracie wasn’t it?”
As Heather bobbed her little head in agreement, Catrina angled a questioning glance at the older woman in the doorway.
“Humor an old woman’s small pleasures,” Gracie replied, displaying her gift for reading Catrina’s thoughts. “Since my son has decreed himself a confirmed bachelor for life, the only way I’ll ever hear a child call me ‘grandma’ is if I bribe one to do it. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind. Every child needs a doting grandmother. My own mom passed away several years ago, and Heather’s paternal grandparents live 3,000 miles away.”
“Ah. That’s too bad.”
“It’s for the best. They are nice people, I suppose, but they were never into the grandparent scene. I got the impression that they were relieved enough to have survived raising one child, and weren’t anxious to get involved with another one.” She shifted the child against her shoulder, nuzzling her soft skin and inhaling the sweet baby fragrance. “Given the pathetic result of their initial foray into parenthood, I can’t say as I blame them.”
Gracie smiled, but her eyes were sad. “The young man must have had some redeeming characteristics, or an intelligent woman such as yourself wouldn’t have married him in the first place.”
A warning chill slipped down Catrina’s spine. The divorce had been messy, bitter, and the sour taste of failure hung heavily on her tongue. “Dan had always been a sullen, unhappy man. I thought I could change that. I couldn’t.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she hugged Heather so tightly that the child squirmed in her arms. She loosened her grip, murmuring soft reassurances as the baby popped a wet thumb back into her mouth. A pang of regret and uncertainty stung Catrina, as it always did when she fretted about how the choices she’d made would affect Heather’s future, just as her own mother’s choices had affected Catrina’s past.
Catrina had grown up without a father. He’d deserted the family when
