Susan Mallery - Falling for Gracie

“It will be fine,” her mother said as she pulled Vivian close. “You and Tom will talk in the morning and things will be better.”

“I g-guess,” Vivian mumbled against her mother’s shoulder. “I j-just want him to love me.”

“Of course you do. It’s all right. Everything will be all right.”

Gracie waved toward the door. “I should leave you to deal with this. I’ll just be going.”

“Good idea,” her mother mouthed.

Gracie did her best not to feel as if she’d made a difficult situation worse and headed back out into the night. She drove across town to her rental house and gratefully walked into the dark quiet.

A few clicks of light switches took care of the gloom and a glance around the kitchen restored her spirits.

She’d already put away her special cooking pans, slipping the ones that wouldn’t fit anywhere else into some open shelves meant for cookbooks. Her cooking schedule was magneted to the refrigerator and she’d used poster tape to tack up her two-page spread from People magazine. The one with the headline What’s Gracie’s Secret?

She crossed to it now and traced the picture of the popular sitcom star from Olive’s Attic as she fed a piece of luscious Gracie-made wedding cake to her husband at the wedding. The second page showed several of Gracie’s cakes, along with a picture of her carefully decorating one of them.

That was her world, she reminded herself. Her house in Torrance, her orders, her perfect kitchen with three full-sized ovens, built-in cooling racks and southern exposure. It was a world she understood-where she was just Gracie. Not anyone’s sister or daughter. She didn’t mess up there. She didn’t feel as if she didn’t belong.

Had it been a mistake to try to come home? The decision had been made and there was no unmaking it.

“Just a few weeks,” she reminded herself. Then she could walk away from all of this and never look back.

GRACIE WALKED into Bill’s Mexican Grill promptly at noon only to find her friend Jill already seated and waving her in.

“You’re always early,” Gracie said as she approached.

Jill stood and hugged her. “I know. It’s a disease. I’m thinking I need a twelve-step program.”

Gracie stepped back from her friend and looked her over. “Very fabulous,” she said. “Would I recognize the designer?”

Jill wiggled her hips as she turned in a slow circle, modeling her tailored shirt and trim pinstripe slacks before she took her seat.

“Armani. I’m still working through my big-city lawyer clothes. Tina, my assistant, keeps ragging on me about dressing too fancy for Los Lobos, but if I don’t wear them to work, where will I?”

Gracie sat next to Jill and fingered the sleeve of her silk blouse. “I’m guessing not for cleaning the bathroom.”

“Exactly.” Jill leaned forward and grinned. “I’m so happy to see you. It’s been ages. What? Five months?”

“Just about. We were last together at your wedding up in Carmel, where I have to say you were far more interested in the groom than in me. This despite the fact that I made you a pretty fabulous cake. What is up with that? I’m your oldest and dearest friend. He’s just some guy.”

Jill laughed. “You’re right. He’s some guy. Some great, amazing, hunky-”

She broke off when the waitress approached to take their drink orders. Gracie asked for diet soda while Jill chose iced tea.

Her friend had changed, Gracie thought. In the past few years Jill had been on the legal fast track at a huge law firm in San Francisco. She’d worn stiff suits, worked impossible hours and had tamed her fabulous curly hair into a sleek, painful bun at the nape of her neck. Now she looked…Gracie smiled. Soft. All feminine and comfortable in her skin. Long cascades of curls tumbled down Jill’s back. The shadows were gone from under her eyes and she seemed to glow.

“You like married life,” Gracie said.

“I love it. Mac is amazing. I was a little nervous about being a stepmother, but Emily is wonderful and very patient with my mistakes. My only regret is that we have to share her with her real mom. I wouldn’t mind having her around all the time.”

“Wow. That’s so cool.”

“It’s just how I feel. I adore them both.”

Gracie grabbed Jill’s left hand and studied the diamond ring guards surrounding an impressive solitaire.

“I like a man who isn’t intimidated by a good-sized rock,” Gracie said with a grin.

“Mac knows how to do it right,” Jill admitted. “In many ways.”

Gracie held up both hands. “If you’re going to talk about sex, I’m not listening. I can be blissfully happy for your newly married self, your great husband and perfect stepchild. I won’t even begrudge you a dog, but I draw the line at sex.”

Jill patted her hand. “Because you’re not getting any?”

“Exactly. David and I broke up three months ago and I haven’t been inspired to start the whole dating nightmare again.”

The waitress returned with their drinks and chips and salsa, then asked if they were ready to order.

“What’s good?” Gracie asked.

“They make a delicious taco salad,” Jill said.

“Works for me.” She had her antacids in her purse for the inevitable attack later.

“Make it two,” Jill told the waitress. “Thanks.” She turned back to her friend. “I thought you really liked David. What happened?”

“I don’t know. Nothing. Everything. He was great, but…” She sighed. “I want sparks. Is that so horrible? Not an actual fire event but a few singes would be nice. I want to be excited when I know I’m going to see the guy I’m with. I want to use words like amazing and heart-stopping, not nice or very pleasant. David was very pleasant. We got along. We never fought. We never…anything. How can I get serious about a guy when I barely notice if he’s there or not?”

“Despite your earlier attachment to a man we will not name, you’re not a drama queen,” Jill said.

“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I’m so concerned about reverting to stalker girl that I’m not letting myself care about anyone.” She picked up her drink. “I could be a drama queen if I wanted.”

Jill smiled. “Sure you could.”

The idea had appeal, except Gracie knew that she actually preferred order in her world. Surprises were all good for presents, but in the rest of her life, she liked predictability. Which might explain a long series of really dull guys.

Besides…“I think Vivian got all the drama queen genes in our family. She and Tom had a huge fight yesterday over the bachelor party and she was threatening to call off the wedding.”

Jill’s eyes widened. “Do you think she will?”

“I haven’t a clue. But if she does, I’m going to be very cranky about coming up here and renting a house for six weeks. I have orders lining up like crazy.”

“I thought you would have stayed with your mom,” Jill said. “Couldn’t you use her oven?”

“It’s not just the oven. It’s the refrigerator and freezer, not to mention an entire dining room table for decorating and most of the cupboards for my supplies. Plus I like to stay up late and work. The cake part is easy-it’s the individual decorations that take forever.”

What she didn’t mention was how uncomfortable she felt in her mother’s house. She hadn’t lived there in so long, it had ceased to be home. She was trying to fit in and not doing a very good job of it so far.

“Is it weird to be back?” Jill asked.

“Yes and no. I feel different, but no one sees me that way. I’m still Gracie Landon-in love with Riley Whitefield.”

Jill picked up her iced tea. “You know he’s in town.”

Gracie narrowed her gaze. “Don’t you start in on me. I’ve already heard that from my mother’s neighbor, my landlord, the clerk at the grocery store and some woman on the street whom I don’t remember at all. It’s more than scary-it’s a Twilight Zone moment.”

“It’s the articles in the newspaper,” Jill said. “Even people who’d never met you felt they were a part of the romance.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Have you seen him?”

Gracie hesitated. She didn’t know how to say she had without spilling Alexis’s private business.

“You have!” Jill leaned forward. “I want to know everything. Start at the beginning and talk slowly.”

Gracie sighed and picked up a chip. She turned it over then bit into it. “You can’t say anything,” she told her friend when she’d chewed and swallowed. “I was checking out something for Alexis and no, I can’t tell you what.”

“So you ran into him at the store or something?”

“Not exactly. I was sort of lurking around his house.”

Jill’s brown eyes widened. “You have to be kidding. You were spying on him?”

“No. I was spying on someone else. But he caught me and it was horrible and awkward and I think he’s going to be getting a restraining order against me.”

Jill grabbed a chip. “What did you think? Isn’t he still amazing looking?”

“Oh, yeah. Dark, brooding, dangerous.”

“Sexy,” Jill added. “I love the earring. I tried to talk Mac into getting one, but he’s pretty much ignoring me on that.”

“I’ll admit the earring is appealing.”

“And his butt. The man has a fabulous butt.”

“I didn’t get a chance to check it out, but I’ll put it on my to-do list.”

Jill threw the chip across the table. “Oh, please. Don’t get all superior with me. We’re talking about Riley. I refuse to believe you can stand in the same room as him and not feel something.”

“I felt humiliation and a burning desire to be somewhere else.”

“That’s not what I mean. Come on, Gracie. There had to be some attraction between you.”

No way she would admit to that, Gracie thought. Too dangerous with the potential to make her look far too foolish. Plus it would be all one-sided. “He’s firmly in my past where he will stay. Do you think I’m proud of what I did to him? I hate that everyone remembers it and talks about it. The last thing I’m willing to do is fuel the fire. What’s he doing here, anyway? And running for mayor? What’s up with that?”

Jill straightened. “I can only discuss things that are public knowledge.”

Gracie stared at her friend. She was careful to keep her lips pressed together so her mouth didn’t hang open, but she was pretty sure her eyes had bugged out.

“You’re his lawyer?”

“I’m handling some things for him.”

Gracie didn’t know what to say. “How long will he be in town?”

“That depends.”

“You’re not being the least bit helpful.” Gracie took a sip of her drink. “Do you know why he’s running for mayor?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“No.”

“You’re not very much fun, you know that?”

Jill grabbed a chip. “I know. I just can’t.” Her expression turned wicked. “But if you see him the next time you’re spying at his house, you could ask him yourself.”

“Not even for money. I don’t want to have anything to do with Riley ever again. The humiliation would be too great.”

“Fair enough. As long as you’re sure he’s not the one.”

Gracie looked at her and laughed. “If he’s the one, I’m converting to Catholicism and taking my vows.”

FRANKLIN YARDLEY liked watches. He had an impressive collection he stored in a custom-made drawer in his dresser. Every morning after picking out a suit and tie, he carefully chose the watch he would wear for the day. Omegas were his favorite, but he had three Rolexes because everyone expected a man in his position to wear one.

“It’s all about perception,” he reminded himself as he glanced down at the Omega partially concealed by the cuff of his monogrammed cotton shirt.

Still, he wasn’t interested in a watch for himself today. He turned the page of the jewelry store catalogue and paused when he saw the display of ladies’ watches. No, he was shopping for a very special someone.

A simple but elegant Movado caught his eye.

“Perfect.”

It was fancy enough to impress the lady in question, but not so flashy as to call attention to itself.

He made a note of the jewelry store and then checked his calendar. He would need a day or so to get the twelve hundred dollars he would need to buy the watch. It wasn’t as if he could put it on his credit card. Sandra, his wife, might never have worked a day in her life, but she kept track of every single penny. Somehow he’d assumed the daughter of a self-made millionaire wouldn’t care about things like budgets and spending, but Sandra did. She believed that since the wealth in their marriage came from her, she had the only say on how it was spent.

Still, after twenty-eight years of marriage, Frank had made his peace with her tight purse strings and had figured out more than one way around them.