wondered what the back of her sweatshirt looked like. Cute as they were, babies seemed to make a full-time career out of emitting fluids.
“You’re fine,” Reggie said, reading her mind. “See you—” Her words turned into a laugh as Tom propelled her out the door.
“Later,” he finished before firmly closing it.
“Just you and me and the menagerie, kid,” Eden said as she crossed the room to the rocker recliner, with the dog and cat trailing close behind. Brioche curled up with her chin on Eden’s shoes and Mims jumped onto the nearby sofa to keep an eye on things.
For a few minutes Eden simply sat and rocked the baby. It had been a long day. All her days were long, so that wasn’t anything new, but ending it with an unread and unwanted note from Ian was.
Crap.
She should have read it. Maybe she’d stop by on her way home and pick it up from the parking lot, see what he had to say.
Or maybe she should just leave matters alone. She was better off not knowing what he’d written. Then it wouldn’t weigh on her mind. She wouldn’t have to think of how to handle matters.
But she wouldn’t be prepared, either. And perhaps it was simply a goodbye. If so, she wanted to know that she could stop worrying about him pestering her to give him a second chance.
Okay…she’d stop and get the note. Even though it was going to ruin her night.
Eden rubbed Rosemary’s back, drawing in the wonderful fresh baby scent as she cuddled her niece close. Hard to think about anything bad in the world when holding a soft, warm baby. Since it was probably going to be a number of years before she had one of her own, Eden shoved all the rotten Ian-related thoughts out of her mind and focused on what was in the here and now.
ROSEMARY WAS ASLEEP in Eden’s arms when Reggie and Tom returned home at nine o’clock, and Reggie did indeed look as if she was ready to conk out. Eden gave Tom an I-told-you-so look before she passed the baby to him. He winked at her and in turn handed the baby to Reggie, who barely managed to say, “Thanks so much for sitting,” before she yawned.
“Same time next week?” Eden asked as Reggie came back out from the baby’s room. Her sister glanced at Tom, who nodded.
“We may not be going out for a while.”
Because you’re pregnant and nauseous?
“Lowell has asked me to help with his restaurant for a month. It’ll pay off a big chunk of the renovation bill for my place.”
Ah, yes. Lowell, Tom’s best friend in the culinary world. Eden had never quite known what to make of the brash Scot, but he had a solid reputation as a chef and restaurateur. “So…you’re going to France?”
“For four weeks…while Lowell deals with some personal issues.”
“Is his wife divorcing him again?” Eden asked.
Tom simply shook his head and Eden decided not to ask for details.
“As soon as we get back, I’m coming to work at Tremont,” Reggie said. “Part time. But this seems a good way to finish up my time off.”
“When do you leave?” Eden would miss her sister. And the baby. But this was a spectacular opportunity. Especially for Tom, who was still trying to reestablish himself in the cooking world after a few missteps the previous year.
“A week and a half.”
“Short notice,” Eden commented.
“Lowell is kind of that way,” her brother-in-law stated.
Eden had met his giant friend, a mercurial bear of a man, and had to agree. Lowell was impulsive.
Tom put his arm around Reggie’s shoulders. “Once I open my restaurant, it’ll be damned hard to get away.”
“You don’t have to explain to me,” Eden said. “I agree that it’s a great opportunity.” Her mouth quirked up at one corner. “But could you maybe leave Rosemary here with me?”
The couple looked at one another and then back at her.
Reggie simply shook her head. “Uh…no.”
Eden left the house smiling, happy for her sister and brother-in-law. The dog and cat would stay with Tom’s former neighbors, Frank and Bernie, who would be able to give them tons more attention than Eden or Justin.
Life was going well for Reggie, and was the usual blur for Justin. As for her…well, she had an ex who was showing signs of getting out of control, and she was going to do something about it.
THE ENVELOPE WAS gone. Eden had fully expected to find it right where she’d run over it. What were the chances that some passerby had seen it and picked it up, perhaps hoping there was money inside?
Or had Ian come back and retrieved it, tire mark and all? That hypothesis was rather satisfying.
Of course now Eden wanted to read it more than anything. After searching the bushes, in case a gust of wind had blown it out of the lot, she got into her car and headed for her house, two miles away.
Eden pulled into her driveway and parked. Her house was so small that the garage was the only storage space she had, so that was where Christmas was stored, as well as her seasonal clothing and all the hobbies she’d started and meant to take up again, but hadn’t because she didn’t have the time. Plus, she had all Justin’s sports gear in there. Definitely no room for a car.
She pulled the keys out of the ignition and was about to get out when the motion-sensor light at the side of the house came on, startling her. Two neighborhood cats, the sensor culprits, came strolling out to the front, their eyes reflecting greenish-yellow as they stopped to stare at her. Her house seemed to be located on some neighborhood migration path. The light came on at least once or twice every evening, and within two weeks of moving into the place, Eden had stopped looking out the window to see what had triggered it, because it was always the same—cats.
Although, she thought on her way to her front door, this was a classic horror-story setup. Complacent heroine, evil marauding terror. Zombies, perhaps. She fitted the key into the door and turned it. Maybe she should just take a quick peek out the window every now and then to see who or what was passing by.
Or maybe she should stop letting the envelope get to her.
But what if Ian hadn’t put it there?
CHAPTER THREE
“THERE ARE three computers,” Nick said. “Two in the back office and the other in the entry area before you go into the kitchen. There’s a file cabinet in the office—”
“Oh, shit.” Daphne let her head fall forward, her forehead hitting the bar with an audible thunk that made the whiskey in Nick’s glass bounce. “He’s here,” she said without moving. “I should never have told him to man up. Now he’s hell-bent on proving to me that he is.”
No doubt whom she meant.
