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  "Is she all right?" Blake scooted closer. He laid his hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed.

  Tears formed in Claire's eyes. "Geraldine had an emergency angioplasty yesterday."

  "Oh, no." Blake's brows furrowed over his steely blue eyes.

  She licked her dry lips. "She made it through surgery."

  "Thank the Lord," Blake raised his hand heavenward. "Were you here by yourself when it happened?"

  Haley sauntered into the room—her arms outstretched wearing her baby doll pajamas and her fluffy pink slippers. "Claire, what's for breakfast?"

  Classic. Leave it to her sister to make a grand entrance. Claire jumped up and wrapped the blanket around Haley's shoulders. She looked at Blake, then back at her sister.

  The minute Haley saw Blake sitting on the couch, she turned and ran back into Claire's bedroom, the blanket flying behind her like a cape. She slammed the door.

  "Who's that?" Blake laughed. "Why didn't you tell me you had a visitor?"

  Claire sat back down and grinned. "I didn't get around to it yet. That's my married sister, Haley."

  Blake placed his arm on the back of the couch and twirled a strand of Claire's hair. "I only have eyes for one woman." He tapped her chin. "Someone who's definitely not married."

  Me? The thought excited and unnerved Claire.

  "So, what is for breakfast?" She stood and glanced down at her wrinkled clothes. Her blouse looked as though she'd been wearing it for days, and the coffee stain on the right leg of her jeans seemed to have grown overnight.

  Blake stood. "That's what I was going to talk to you about. Workers are coming any minute to install my new kitchen cabinets. Do you think you'll be okay on your own?"

  "Yeah, sure. Cold cereal works." No, Blake, please stay. "Will I see you later?"

  Blake flashed her his winning smile. "Definitely. Dinner at six?" He made his way to the front door. "Tell your sister 'hi' for me and that I'll meet her officially at dinner—when she's dressed." He laughed. "It looks like you need a change of clothes, as well."

  You think? Wise guy! Claire placed her hands on her hips. "Last night was kind of rough."

  "Hey, I'm teasing. You're cute no matter what you're wearing."

  Claire couldn't imagine that, but the compliment was nice all the same. "I'm glad Geraldine pulled through."

  "Me too." Blake pulled the door open, then glanced over his shoulder. "Do you like Chinese food?"

  "Love it."

  "Good. See you tonight." Blake shut the door behind him and took off for his place.

  He cooks Chinese food? Her mouth watered. She couldn't wait.

  It wouldn't be long until Blake's kitchen was finished and her meals with him would end. Would he still want to spend time with her? She leaned against the door. Maybe she should burn her kitchen down.

  Claire took one last peek at Blake out the window. A woman slid out of a red Mustang and approached him. Claire moved in for a closer look. The two knew each other by the way they interacted. The woman was familiar. The hair, the figure— Kristy. She had called Blake her friend the other night when she and Amber rudely interrupted their date at Capitola Beach. She watched Kristy swing her arm across Blake's shoulder as they entered Blake's house. Claire's shoulders sagged. Friends, huh?

  "Okay, now I'm presentable," Haley's voice pierced the air. "Where's Blake?"

  With another woman. Claire walked into the kitchen and opened the pantry door. "Cheerios or Rice Krispies?"

  "I'm going to run by the hospital to see Mom before I head to the office." Michael gulped the last bit of his orange juice and turned to the morning newspaper. An article jumped out at him.

  The Sheriff's Office and vigilante residents made a small dent in the graffiti problem in Capitola this week when deputies cited three teenage boys suspected in two separate vandalism incidents.

  "Good." Michael folded the paper and set it on the table. "Now hopefully my listing in Capitola will sell."

  Sandy looked up at him over her plate of scrambled eggs, drew in a breath, and walked away with plate in hand. She had been giving him the silent treatment all morning. Michael thought about her chilling comments the night before. Until he was willing to talk to her about the real issue, she would go about her business and he could go about his.

  "Do you have any wedding preparations today?" Michael stood, pushed in his chair, and followed Sandy to the sink. If she wasn't talking, fine. He could get a reaction from her in other ways. Michael approached her retreated back and kissed her on the neck.

  "What are you doing?" Sandy rolled her shoulder away from his touch and turned her head in the opposite direction.

  "You know I love you, Sandy."

  "Do I?"

  Michael could hear the tears in her voice. "Yes, of course. "He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. "The other day, at the picnic . . . I was caught off guard. I haven't been around Martin much, and then that darn letter shows up right when we were having such a good time—in front of everyone. What was I supposed to say?"

  Sandy pulled away from his embrace and walked to the other side of the island. "You don't get it, do you?" She blinked hard. "I'm jealous of a woman who's dead." Sandy picked up a knife and stabbed the butcher-block counter. "Don't you see something wrong with that? And you're doing nothing to ease my fears."

  Michael wanted to run to her, to tell her the whole truth. But he held back. With Julia's wedding fast approaching, he needed to live under the same roof with the mother of the bride, his bride. The words wouldn't come. He gripped the granite countertop. A few seconds passed. He let out a sigh. And let his wife walk away.

  After breakfast, the red Mustang was still parked against the curb next door. Haley had offered to do the dishes so Claire could take a shower. Nothing like hot water to rinse away her problems—but thoughts of Blake with Kristy still consumed her mind as she fixed her hair.

  "I was thinking we could stop by the hospital this morning," Claire called from the bathroom.

  Haley appeared in the doorway. "Good idea. Then, I thought we could swing by Babies R Us."

  "Don't you think it's a little early? You're barely showing." Claire grabbed the toothpaste and unscrewed the lid.

  "We don't have to buy anything, I thought we could look. I'm starting a wish list." Haley pulled her shirt up a little. "There's a bump there. See?"

  Claire glanced at her sister's flat belly. "Hey, look! My sister's got a pooch. I thought I'd never see the day—"

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Haley pulled her shirt down. "You didn't think Mark and I would have a family?" She crossed her arms.

  "That wasn't what I meant and you know it." Claire stuck her toothbrush in her mouth and brushed, then placed it in the starfish holder. "You're the one who brought Mark into the conversation."

  Haley tossed her arms in the air. "Great. My own sister doesn't want me to have a baby."

  Claire rinsed her mouth with water, and then swiped her face with a towel. "Of course I'm excited about my nephew or niece. But since you brought Mark into this, let's talk."

  "You know what, Claire? I came here to check on you. Not talk about my husband."

  "Some husband. If he had any sense, he never would've let you leave." Claire pushed her way through the doorway.

  "Mark doesn't know where I went. I left before he woke up." Haley grabbed a hairbrush and ran it through her long hair. "I haven't spoken with him since. And I don't know when I will."

  Good. Claire tucked her hair behind her ear. "It would serve him right." She came up beside Haley. "He doesn't deserve you or your baby."

  "It still hurts." Haley set the brush down and grabbed a tissue. "I don't want to be a single mother—like Mom." She blew her nose. "How will I be able to support a child?"

  Claire's heart softened. She knew her mother had had a difficult time raising two girls on her own. Claire touched Haley's arm. "I know, sis."

  "I want to be alone for a while." Hal
ey tossed the tissue in the trash-can. "You go to the hospital. Take my Chevy." Haley looked at her with a glint in her eye. "And I'll watch out for Miss Mustang."

  "You sure?"

  "Positive."

  "Thanks." Claire leaned over and gave her sister a hug. "I'll be back before you know it."

  31

  Michael climbed the steps and walked down the long corridor of Dominican Hospital to room 2125. He turned left and nearly ran into Claire. She held a mauve-colored pitcher in her hand.

  "I was getting your mom ice water. You know how she likes her water . . .with ice." Claire stammered.

  Michael could tell he made the young woman nervous. It didn't surprise him one bit after the fiasco at New Brighton Beach. "Here, I'll get it. Why don't you go back to the room, and I'll be there in a minute."

  The surprise on Claire's face brought a smile to his own. Claire needed to see his softer side. He did have one, even though he didn't show it much. He had tried to give his wife a bit of affection too this morning, but it didn't get him far. Guilt clawed at his insides. He could be nice to Claire, Emily's daughter. "Really, it's no problem."

  "Thanks." Claire handed him the empty pitcher. She turned and slipped into Geraldine's room.

  With container in hand, Michael walked to the nurses' station. "Where can I find the water—and ice?"

  A nurse looked up. It was Nancy. Michael knew her at once. "Michael. I was wondering if I'd see you today. Follow me." Nancy stood and walked down the hall to a storage room.

  Michael followed behind, and then entered a rectangular room filled with storage supplies. He filled the pitcher.

  "Claire loves your mother." Nancy grabbed a few cups off the shelf. "She acted quickly yesterday. You must be so grateful that your mom has such a wonderful caregiver."

  Claire had been doing a great job. The doctor told him it was a miracle his mother was able to have the angioplasty. "You're right, Nancy. Claire is the best person to come along for my mother in quite a while. And I'm going to make sure she knows it." He'd make sure his mother gave Claire a hefty raise.

  Nancy handed Michael the cups. "For you and Claire."

  "Thanks." Michael made his way to his mother's room.

  Mom was asleep, and Claire sat in a chair, one leg curled under the other, flipping through a magazine.

  "How long has she been out?" Michael set the pitcher and cups down on the table.

  "Not long. I came twenty minutes ago. She was wide awake when I went to get the water." Claire glanced at his mother. Her mouth hung open as she took deep breaths.

  "Want to grab a coffee?" The words were out of Michael's mouth before he had a chance to think. Why did he do that? Did he feel he owed Claire after saving his mother? He ran a hand through his hair.

  "Sure, why not." She stood and followed him out the door.

  "I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of my mother."

  "We take care of each other."

  The statement warmed Michael's heart. He had noticed his mother fussing over Claire a time or two.

  "I owe her a great deal. If it wasn't for your mom, I wouldn't have a job or a roof over my head." Claire kept a good distance from him as they walked side by side down the long corridor.

  Michael motioned for her to go first through the entrance of the cafeteria. "How's it working out with Blake cooking in the kitchen?"

  "Fine. Really good."

  Did Michael see a hint of pink in Claire's cheeks? Blake had the same effect on his eighty-two-year-old mother.

  "If I remember correctly, you like mochas?" Michael pulled out his wallet.

  "Yes, but—"

  "I insist." Michael ordered the drinks. "Why don't you find us a seat and I'll be right there." He watched Claire walk toward the chairs. She was a sweet woman—reminded him of his own daughter Julia in a way, but with lighter features. Now might be a chance to get to know Claire. Find out about her background. Something he should've checked before he hired her.

  Michael collected his change and carried the steaming drinks to the table Claire had selected by the window. "Here you go."

  "Thank you." Claire brought the cup to her lips and sipped the hot liquid. She kept her eyes averted, then peered out the window.

  "Claire, we started off on the wrong foot." Michael rested both forearms on the table, his coffee tucked between his hands. "My mother knew you from L.A., and I know you're Emily's daughter, but that's all I know about you. I'd like to know more. What brought you to Capitola?"

  A few seconds ticked by. Claire seemed to be formulating her thoughts by the way she hesitated. Her eyes met his. "Ever since my mom died, I'd been working as a waitress, living with my sister, and wanting to be on my own. Then, when I was fired, my brother-in-law kicked me out. I needed somewhere to go." Claire leaned back in her chair. "I couldn't forget the letter. So, I came here to find out who wrote it."

  Michael heaved a sigh. What did this girl want from him? "And? Now what?"

  "The man I dreamed about doesn't exist." Claire turned her head toward the window.

  "Don't you think you're being a little unfair?" Michael knew his voice sounded condescending. "After all, I was barely out of high school. A kid. Someone who thought he was in love."

  "It's not the teenage boy I'm disappointed with, but the man you've become—" Claire shot her hand up to her mouth.

  Michael didn't like who he was either. He had to give Claire credit for speaking her mind. Where had the caring family man gone? Michael let out a long breath.

  "I can't believe I said that. Please don't fire me. I need this job. Geraldine means the world to me."

  "Whoa." Michael held up a hand. "Slow down. I'm not going to fire you—."

  "Michael . . . Claire?" Sandy walked toward their table, her outfit perfectly coordinated and her right hand planted on her hip. "Am I interrupting something?"

  "No." Claire bolted out of her seat. "I was just leaving."

  Michael watched Claire's retreating back as she sprinted out of the cafeteria. "Mom's asleep, so we grabbed a coffee." He motioned for Sandy to sit down.

  She didn't budge. "I don't have time. I came to check on your mother. Then I have an appointment with Julia."

  At least Sandy was talking to him. "We could've come here together." Michael downed the rest of his coffee, stood, then tossed his cup in the trash. "Maybe Mom will be awake later. "He kissed his wife on the cheek.

  "Don't make light of the situation, Michael." Sandy straightened her collar. "Until you want to tell me what's really going on, you can sleep in the guest room."

  "Baby, please." His pet name for Sandy when he wanted to score points rolled off his tongue. "Don't you think you're being a little extreme?" He kept his voice low. He didn't want anyone overhearing his conversation. "My mother is in the hospital, finances are tight, and our daughter is getting married. Life is stressful." Michael grabbed Sandy by the elbow and led her out of the cafeteria.

  "I still think you're hiding something from me." Sandy opened her purse and pulled out a tube of lipstick. She applied a thick layer over her perfectly formed lips.

  Michael felt as if he were sinking into a mud hole. How could he consider telling his wife of twenty-seven years that he had broken his wedding vows? Was one night with Emily out of thousands with Sandy worth ruining his life—and his future? Keeping the secret from his wife might break up his marriage if the look in Sandy's eyes was any indication.

  He needed to do something fast. Michael slipped his arm around her waist. "Sandy, sweetheart, I assure you. You're the only woman I want to be with forever. But we need to work together." He led her to the lobby doors. "Now I've got to go to work. I'll see you tonight."

  Michael pulled his keys from his pocket, leaving his wife's empty glare behind him.

  "Bye, Geraldine. You take care. I'll see you tomorrow." Claire leaned over and gave Geraldine a hug. The last fifteen minutes had been awkward with Sandy's watchful gaze on Claire's every move. Was Sandy ma
d at her? The picnic had turned out to be uncomfortable. Claire could feel the tension between Sandy and Michael then, and once again today in the hospital cafeteria. Now, Sandy couldn't keep her eyes off her.

  "Claire, can I talk with you in the hallway?" Sandy motioned with her hand.

  Claire's pulse quickened. Why would Sandy want to talk with her? "Okay. I'll be right there."

  Sandy turned on her heel and left the room.

  Claire turned toward Geraldine. "Is there anything you need from home?"

  "Blake."

  "Excuse me?" Claire thought Geraldine must still be under the influence of pain medication.

  "Can you bring that handsome man by tonight? I'm going to miss dinner." Geraldine winked.

  "He's going to make Chinese food." Claire patted Geraldine's hand. "I'll ask him to sneak you an egg roll or two."

  "That would be nice." Geraldine reached up and touched her white hair. "Can you bring my hairbrush and lipstick?"

  "Of course." Claire smiled. She loved Geraldine's spunk. "I've got to go see what Sandy wants."

  Geraldine frowned. "It was a pretty big blow for her to find out Michael loved your mother."

  "But they were only teenagers." Claire hooked her purse on her shoulder.

  "He loved Emily for a long time. Too long."

  Claire's stomach tightened. What did Geraldine mean? How long? She glanced at the door, knowing Sandy was waiting.

  "Go on now. I'll see you tonight." Geraldine waved. "Tell Blake I'm looking forward to my egg roll."

  Claire headed toward the doorway. She thought back on the awkward situation at New Brighton Beach. She didn't mean for Sandy to see the letter or for there to be an awkward moment between her and Michael. And she certainly didn't intend for Sandy to find her and Michael in the cafeteria together drinking coffee. Did Sandy think there was something going on between them? Claire recoiled. She would never intentionally spend time alone with a married man. The cafeteria was filled with people coming and going. Surely Sandy didn't feel threatened by her. Claire stepped into the hallway and looked left, then right. Sandy was nowhere to be found. How odd.