way she sat across from him, with one long, bare leg crossed demurely over the other, enthralled him.
“I mean, they’re teenagers,” he continued. “Sometimes I don’t understand a word they’re saying. But at least I’m never bored.”
She stood then, her movement abrupt. “I think I’ve stayed too long.” As she spoke, she smoothed her palms over the formfitting sheath she wore, as if brushing away imaginary wrinkles.
Chris stood, too, caught off guard by her action. Moments ago, they’d been chatting about his twins, and she’d been smiling and nodding. Now, her closed-off expression and tense stance gave him pause. “You don’t have to rush off, Eliza. There’s not too much going on here today.”
She slipped her purse strap over her shoulder. “It’s just that I really have to get back to the boutique. I’ve got a million things to do this afternoon.”
He wanted to convince her to stay, but how could he? She wasn’t the starry-eyed teenager who’d stolen his heart anymore; she was a successful businesswoman with responsibilities. Even though the woman she’d become appealed to him in every way, he knew he had no right to hold her there. “I understand. I won’t keep you, if you’ve got...” His sentence was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. He slipped it from his pocket, glanced at it. “I have to take this. Excuse me, Eliza.”
“I’ve got to go, Chris.” She started walking toward the hallway.
“Just give me a few moments, please. I want to at least see you out, okay?”
She stopped, turned his way. “All right.”
He answered his phone then. “Jojo? How are you, sweetheart?”
“I’m okay, I guess.”
Sensing the angst in her words, he asked, “What do you need, Jojo?”
“Well, there’s this dance coming up at school. Mom says I can go, if you say it’s okay. So, can I go?”
The parts of him that still saw her as a little girl warred with the reality of her actual age. Finally, he acquiesced. “Sure. Who are you going with?” Relief coursed through him as she named two of her female friends.
“There’s one more thing. I really need a dress.”
“A dress?” Chris looked at Eliza. She was leaning against the wall between the kitchen and the hallway. “Jojo, I may be able to help you with that.” Covering the microphone, he gestured to her. “Eliza, can you come here for a second?”
She walked over, a curious expression on her face. “What is it?”
“I know you have to go, but my daughter’s on the phone. She needs a dress for a school dance. Can you help us out?”
“Maybe. What size does she wear?”
He scratched his head. “I don’t know. I could ask her...”
Eliza’s lips tilted in a soft smile. “She’s thirteen, right? I remember those days well. Why don’t you just bring her to the shop Friday?” She glanced at her gold watch. “I really do have to go.”
“What time should I bring her?” he asked as Eliza strode away.
“Around six,” she answered as she rounded the corner to the hallway.
A few moments later, Chris heard the door to the office open, then close as she walked out. Uncovering the mic, he spoke to his daughter. “Good news. Friday, I’ll take you shopping for a dress.”
Jojo exhaled. “Thanks, Dad.” Then she paused. “Wait. You’re not going to take me to the little girl’s section of Macy’s again, are you?”
He chuckled at the memory of how their last shopping trip had panned out. “No, no. I’m taking you to a boutique in Gaslamp. Don’t worry, you’ll love it.”
“Sounds great. When?”
“I’ll pick you up around five Friday evening. We’ll grab dinner and head over after that.”
Her voice took on the light, happy tone of a girl pleased with her father. “You’re the best, Dad. Gotta go. Love you.”
He smiled, both at her words and at knowing she was excited. “I love you, too.”
After he disconnected the call, he looked around the quiet office. He and Vaughn had been the only members in the building today, and now that Eliza had gone, he was alone save for the security guard patrolling the place. In truth, he needed this time alone to think. The problems at Prescott George were pressing, and he needed the space and silence to determine the best course of action. As chapter president, the responsibility rested on his shoulders.
Chris knew full well what an honor it was for it to be chosen for the Chapter of the Year award. The San Diego chapter members were a younger set compared with the old guard of the original members’ descendants in some of the other chapters. Prescott George had been around for a long time, and not everyone embraced the necessary changes that came with changing times. Still, if the national organization had seen fit to recognize his chapter, then Chris would make damn sure that San Diego PG lived up to those lofty expectations.
Now, though, he had something else on his mind; an almost welcome distraction. He’d been shocked and amazed to see Eliza Ellicott stroll into the office, looking every bit like his dream come true. Here he was, at the top of his game in the architecture field, with his designs having been used for structures all around the world. Yet when she’d walked in, he’d felt...outdone, as if she were way out of his league. He could have spent all day talking to her, watching her smile light the room. While he didn’t like that she’d been inconvenienced by her brother, he was glad fate had decided to let him enjoy her company again.
He thought of Vaughn then and wondered what was going on at Elite. Lunch had long since ended, and Vaughn hadn’t reached out yet. Chris pulled out his phone again, intent on calling his friend before he continued strategizing his plans for the chapter.
After all, if it was something serious, he needed to know so he could lend a hand. He could only hope whatever was going down at Elite wasn’t tied to Prescott George. Their chapter had enough problems already.
* * *
Ellicott’s did brisk business on the weekends, and Friday evening was no exception. Eliza and her two clerks were all working, with Eliza bagging purchases and the clerks running the registers.
As Eliza passed one of her signature glossy silver paper bags filled with items to a customer, she heard the bell ring, signaling someone entering the shop. After the customer was taken care of, she glanced toward the door and saw Chris walking in her direction.
Eliza couldn’t help admiring him as he walked. Dressed in a dark blue polo shirt, matching sneakers and a pair of khaki shorts that revealed his muscled calves, he looked ready to head down to the marina for a day on the bay.
At his side was a pretty young lady in ripped white jeans, a Candy Crush T-shirt and sneakers. She was tall for her age; the top of her head lined up with Chris’s shoulder. Her dark brown hair, styled in box braids, hung just past her collarbone. Much of her face was concealed by the round frames of a very large
