the first to know.”
The mention of Trevor’s wife momentarily took the conversation in another direction. “So she still wants us to call her Venus, huh?”
The idea amused him. “Venus” was the name his brother had given her the night he’d rescued the woman who eventually became his wife from a watery grave. When Trevor had finally managed to pull her to shore, she had absolutely no recollection of who she was or how she happened to land in the middle of the water.
It was only after Trevor had built a relationship with the woman and fallen hopelessly in love with her that Venus’s memory returned. Rather than someone who had fallen on hard times and was down on her luck, she turned out to be the heiress of a vast fortune. She had accidentally fallen overboard while attempting to escape from a yacht and a pending wedding ceremony that would have bound her to a man she ultimately decided she didn’t love.
“As far as I’m concerned,” Trevor told him with feeling, “she is Venus.”
Travis laughed softly to himself. “Works for me,” he said.
“No offense, brother,” Trevor responded genially, “but that really doesn’t have top priority in the equation.”
He saw the light on his phone turn on. Bea’s way of letting him know his next appointment was here. It was time to go. “Just see what you can find out for me, okay?”
“When do you need to know?”
Travis glanced at the desk calendar to see who his next appointment was. On days like today, people tended to run together. And if not for Shana, he recalled with no small amount of gratitude, he’d really be in a bad way because he’d still have his migraine. “As soon as you can would be nice.”
He heard his brother laugh. “That’s what I love about you, Trav. You’re never in a hurry.”
Trevor should talk, he thought. But he chose neutral ground for his response. “Hey, compared to Kelsey, I’m standing still.”
“Compared to Kelsey, a hurricane is standing still,” Trevor said with a laugh. “I’ll get back to you,” he promised.
“You do that,” Travis said, ending the conversation. Hanging up, he slipped Shawn’s business card back into his wallet. It was already getting worn around the edges.
For no reason, an image of Shana flashed across his mind’s eye.
It had to be lack of sleep that made him act like this, he decided. Like some adolescent with a terminal case of overactive hormones. Hell, he thought, even when he’d been a teenager, he hadn’t behaved so intensely.
Although there was that time when he and Trent had switched places, going out with each other’s girlfriends just to see if the girls could tell them apart. Problem was, he’d found himself falling for Trent’s girl. There’d been a lot of guilt involved before he finally confessed his feelings to Trent. When he did, to his relief, Trent told him that he really wasn’t that into the girl.
Trent’s heart really belonged to Laurel Valentine, the girl who, years later, became his wife.
The romance between Travis and Trent’s former girl hadn’t fared nearly that well. It lasted all of three months. Like a flash fire, it was way too hot not to burn out.
But even that hadn’t felt like this, Travis thought.
Of course, back then, he was getting enough sleep, he recalled with a touch of humor.
Glancing at his calendar again, he saw that, mercifully, he only had two more appointments for the day. And, for once, there were no court appearances scheduled in the late afternoon, like yesterday.
He was going home right after the last appointment, he told himself. What he needed before he went to the restaurant was a well-deserved nap. Lucky for him, he could fall asleep pretty quickly.
That was what he needed. Just some sleep and then, although beautiful, Shana O’Reilly would no longer look like an earthbound angel to him.
He leaned forward and pressed the intercom on his desk. “Please send Mrs. Baxter in, Bea.”
He thought he heard her murmur “It’s about time,” but he couldn’t be sure and there was no way he would ask her to repeat herself.
Kate hadn’t raised any stupid children, he thought with a smile as he rose to greet his next client.
Chapter 4
Twilight lightly embraced the parking lot as Travis got out of his vehicle and crossed to the front door of Shawn’s Li’l Bit of Heaven.
He wasn’t sure just what to expect.
A great many restaurants elected to go with a motif, a decor that identified them and defined the way they saw themselves. Walking through Shawn’s heavy oak double doors was like stepping into a sprawled-out country kitchen.
Unlike the cuisine it favored, the restaurant’s decor was neither Irish nor Mexican. Instead, it seemed dedicated to the concept of the perennial family gathering place of old: the kitchen where discussions were held, homework was done and food was prepared and enjoyed.
Rather than the slightly darkened atmosphere that other eating establishments favored, Shawn’s was brightly lit so that people could not only see one another at the table, but were able to make out the faces of the patrons at neighboring tables.
One big, happy dining experience, Travis thought. He looked around the general area, trying to spot either Shawn or his daughter. The restaurant was fairly full, not a bad accomplishment for a Tuesday when most people took their evening meal at home instead of going out.
“You made it.”
The words were uttered behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know that the melodic voice belonged to Shana. But he turned around anyway, a tiny part of him hoping that she wouldn’t appear quite as beautiful at their second meeting as she had at their first.
If anything, she was even more beautiful.
Her long blond hair worn loose about her shoulders, Shana wore a peasant blouse and a wide, colorful skirt that easily fit into either one of the two cultures associated with the restaurant. Strategically placed on the white blouse was a small pin that identified her in ornate letters as “Shana.” Beneath her name was the title “hostess.”
“You work here?” Travis heard himself asking in surprise. He hadn’t pictured her showing people to their tables. Did princesses have a day job?
Amused by his question, she inclined her head slightly. “I help out when I can. Besides, Dad’s here every night, so it gives me something to do instead of sitting around just watching him.”
He wasn’t sure that he followed her meaning. “Watching him?”
The smile on her lips seemed to grow a shade tighter. “My father doesn’t like to admit it, but he needs help getting around. So I help,” she said simply. “Do you have a preference?”
He stared at her. “Excuse me?”
She
