hot. They stayed in the same places—the right places—with the right people and never varied. The idea of taking off on a whim had caused such an uproar that she’d had to postpone her originally planned trip and rebook.
Now he couldn’t even leave her alone for the ten days she was gone. She didn’t want to resent it, but she did. A lot.
“Good morning, Dad,” she said into the phone.
“It’s noon here.”
“I know.” She rolled her eyes. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to keep you up to date on the Morrison-Cleveland case. She’s asking for less alimony in exchange for full custody.”
Molly pinched the top of her nose and closed her eyes. “Which arrangement benefits the children more?”
“He’s our client, Molly. Not the children.”
A familiar feeling of rebellion rose into her throat. “Well, you know how I feel about this. Look, I know he’s our client but he had affairs and got caught, and then got stuck with a DUI charge. They’re going to have a more stable life with their mother at this point, and it would be great if we could keep them from using their children as leverage. He’s not a family guy, Dad. He’ll pay less in alimony and you can negotiate a fair visitation schedule.”
“I knew that was what you’d say.”
“Then why did you call?”
“You dropped the ball on this one. The idea is that he gets to keep his kids and a bigger portion of his money. You know that.”
Molly sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m not sure I agree.”
“You’d damn well better, for the fee he’s paying. Molly, we didn’t get where we are by being soft.”
There was a long pause, and then Molly said, “I’m on vacation, you know.”
“Oh, believe me, I know.”
The words I’m sorry sat on her lips. For leaving, for leaving her caseload with him, for disappointing him, for whatever else she might need to be sorry for. For being the child who’d survived? But she didn’t say it. She was so tired of apologizing when something didn’t go exactly to plan. Of daring to actually try to have a life of her own. She couldn’t always be Jack. His death hadn’t been her fault. But placating her parents was her fault. She’d got into the habit and now had a hard time getting out of it.
“You know you can do this in your sleep, Dad,” she replied instead. “You don’t need me there.”
“Not really the point, Molly. You left your clients in the lurch.”
Now she was getting truly irritated. “So you’ve said. But even you take a vacation. I’m back in ten days. The firm won’t fall apart.” She sighed and stood once more. “I’m late, so I’m going to have to cut this short. Bye, Dad.”
She hung up, knowing she’d catch hell later for hanging up on him. But seriously. Wasn’t she entitled to a holiday? And at twenty-nine years old she could figure out when and where she wanted to go. She didn’t need his approval, though for some reason both her parents seemed to think she did. She turned off her phone and shoved it into a shoulder bag. Her stomach growled. If she didn’t grab some breakfast soon, they’d be on the road and she’d be running on empty.
She called for a bellhop to get her cases, and once they were collected she adjusted the strap on her bag and headed for the coffee shop. What she needed was a huge coffee and something to take away the gnawing in her gut. In a matter of minutes she was sipping on strong, black brew, with a cranberry muffin in her other hand and a banana tucked into her purse.
The group was congregating in the lobby, waiting for their transportation, chatting up a storm. Molly knew she should join in, make some acquaintances. That was what last night had been for—breaking the ice. Right now she held back. She was still irritated by her father’s call and that work life had intruded when she’d been gone only twenty-four hours.
Eric was standing by the sliding doors, talking to the couple she’d met at dinner last night. He was relaxed and smiling, and suddenly he laughed at something, the warm sound carrying across the lobby and sending goose bumps over her arms. She lifted her coffee and took a gulp, the hot liquid burning her throat.
He looked over and the smile slid off his face as he offered a basic polite nod.
Well, bully for him. He had a very closed mind, judging her for her job just because he was divorced. It wasn’t her fault that negotiations hadn’t gone his way.
She wondered why they’d split in the first place. There was always a reason. She’d heard them all in her years in the firm. A few had caused some raised eyebrows but little surprised her now. She looked at him, standing with his weight on one hip, his hand tucked into the pocket of pressed khakis and his shirt taut against a broad chest. Appearances didn’t count for a whole lot when it came to a lifetime of happiness, but she couldn’t discount the way her breath caught just a little when she looked at him. It wasn’t just that he was handsome. There was a quiet confidence that was magnetic. Yesterday he’d been insufferably overbearing when he’d barged into her room, but something told her he wasn’t always so abrasive.
So he didn’t like what she did for a living. So what? She hadn’t come on this trip as some sort of way to meet a man or hook up. She’d done it to expand her own horizons. To take charge of her own life and live a little. Eric Chambault wasn’t going to stand in the way of that, so she adjusted her shoulder strap, put a smile on her face and made her way to the congregated group standing just outside in the sun, waiting for the luxury passenger vans that would take them to their next destination.
* * *
Eric tipped back his head and let the sun soak into his face. Their tour guide, Shawn, had told them that the first day of the trip was their easiest one—wine tours and tastings. While it wasn’t really on the extreme adventure list, the tour centered on showcasing what Vancouver Island had to offer.
Right now Eric was sitting on a patio just outside the town of Duncan, with the sun beating down on his face and the smell of tart wine and freshly cut grass touching his nose. On his next deep breath, he thought he could taste the tang of the ocean in the air. Maybe this was the “easy” day, but the relaxation came as a welcome relief from his hectic schedule.
He was one of the first back from the tour of the cellars, but his solitude was short-lived as the other eleven in the group made their way, talking and laughing, to the stone patio for lunch. He straightened and smiled as people approached, already flushed from stopping at two other wineries before their late meal. A light laugh caught his attention and he looked up to see Molly—Ms. Quinn—smiling up at someone he’d met named Rick, who was a real-estate developer from Arizona. Rick was at least fifty with a booming laugh, so Eric wasn’t sure why on earth he’d feel the least bit of jealousy.
Maybe because when Molly looked at Eric she tended to scowl, rather than smile, like she was doing right now.
The group congregated around the collection of tables, and within moments the staff began delivering wine selections and platters of local cheese, freshly baked breads, olives, roasted vegetables and fruit. Once again, Molly seemed like the odd person out, like him. Everyone else was either part of a couple or traveling in pairs with a buddy. His skin
