“To Portland.”
“Portland?” Jazmine moaned. “Why are we going there?”
Shana already had her suitcase out of her closet and open on top of her bed. She didn’t need much—her pajamas, a set of clothes and clean underwear. Her toiletries and makeup. That was it.
“Aunt Shana…”
She whirled around, almost forgetting Jazmine was in the room. “I’m sorry. You asked me why we’re going to Portland.” The girl deserved the truth. “I need to talk to Brad.”
“Brad!” Her niece spit out the name as if she had a bug in her mouth. “Why?” she cried with such a shocked look that Shana nearly laughed. “You’re wearing Uncle Adam’s lei and you want to visit Brad?”
“I need to talk to him.”
“But why?”
“It’s important,” was all Shana could tell her.
“You’re not going back to him, are you?” Jazmine’s eyes pleaded with hers.
“No. Now pack an overnight bag. I want to head out as soon as we can.” Shana had no intention of being away from the business for more than twenty-four hours. She’d already called Gwen and left a message, asking if she could put them up for the night. If not, they’d get a hotel room—a reasonably priced one. The trip would be an adventure, and Shana would make an effort to see that Jazmine had fun. If there was time, they’d stop at Jensen Beach to shop and play tourist. Her niece would enjoy that.
Jazmine hesitated in the doorway. “You’re sure about this?”
“Very sure.” This was a conversation she should’ve had with Brad when she left him.
“Are you still in love with Brad?” Jazmine asked urgently, staring up at her.
“No. I told you that.”
Jazmine frowned, apparently not entirely convinced. “Do you always do stuff like this?”
“You mean act on impulse?” Shana clarified. She didn’t think she did, but she realized she was only beginning to know herself. Buying the ice-cream parlor had been the first impulsive thing she’d done in years. Now this. Perhaps it came from a new sense of having control over her own life.
“Are you packed?” Shana asked, knowing very well that she wasn’t.
“Not yet.” Her niece dawdled for another few minutes. “I don’t think I can leave,” she said with a shrug. “My garden needs watering, and Uncle Adam said it’s important to give the plants a drink every morning and every night.” A smile raised the edges of her mouth. “He said I should sing to them, but nothing too fast or with a strong beat.”
Shana smiled, too. “I think they can go without water for a day. You can make it up to them later and give them an extra drink and sing a few lullabies.”
Jazmine still hesitated, then finally appeared to reach a decision. She went into her own bedroom.
It seemed to take her niece forever to assemble what she needed. When she reappeared, she was dragging her backpack behind her as if it weighed fifty pounds. “We can go now,” she said with an undisguised lack of enthusiasm.
“Good.” Shana stood by the car, waiting impatiently. She wondered if Jazmine had transferred the entire contents of her dresser into her backpack, but decided against asking.
“Everything locked up?” Shana had checked the back door and the windows.
Jazmine nodded, climbed into the car while Shana heaved her backpack into the trunk, and fastened her seat belt. Then she sighed heavily.
Shana walked around to the driver’s side. “Think of this as an adventure,” she said in a breezy voice.
Jazmine’s chin drooped to her chest. “Are you going to tell Uncle Adam what you did?”
Involuntarily Shana fingered the lei. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“What if Brad gets you to move back to Portland?”
“That won’t happen,” Shana promised, hiding a smile.
“I just don’t understand why it’s so important for you to see him again,” Jazmine whined. “You said it was over. You said you didn’t want to have anything to do with him again. You said—”
“I know what I said.” Shana cut her off, started the car and pulled away from the curb.
Jazmine was quiet for the first few minutes. “Where will we stay the night?” she asked.
“At a friend’s place.”
“What friend?”
“Gwen. You haven’t met her.”
“Does she have kids?”
“No,” Shana murmured as she merged onto the West Seattle freeway and toward Interstate 5.
“Do I get to come along when you talk to Brad?”
Shana hadn’t actually considered that, but the answer wasn’t difficult. “Probably not.”
Jazmine’s shoulders slumped forward. “That’s what I figured.”
“Jazz, this isn’t what you think. I’m going to see Brad to tell him something….” Only now were her thoughts catching up with her actions.
“What?” Jazmine asked, looking at her for the first time since she got into the car.
“To tell him I made the right decision when I left Portland.”
“You mean you’re not sure?” Her niece seemed about to burst into tears.
“No. Why are you so worried?”
Jazmine stared out the passenger window as if the concrete freeway interchanges were the most fascinating scenery in the world. “Brad phoned, and I told you and then…then you and Uncle Adam had an argument, and now you’re driving to Portland. I’m not stupid, you know. I can connect the dots.”
“Well, you’re looking at the wrong picture.” Shana could understand why Jazmine had reached those conclusions but they weren’t correct. “You don’t need to be concerned, Jazz. I promise.”
“I want you to marry Uncle Adam. Don’t you want to?”
“Let me deal with one man at a time, okay?” At the moment Adam was the last person she wanted to think about. “Once I talk to Brad, you and I can discuss your uncle Adam.”
“Oh, sure,” Jazmine muttered. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m just a kid,” she said sarcastically.
Shana sighed. Jazmine really ought to enroll in a drama class because she clearly had talent. In fact, maybe they could find one when they got back….
“Did you mention this to Mom?” Jazmine asked after a precious few moments of silence.
Shana kept her eyes on the road. “There wasn’t time to e-mail her.”
“Does your friend have a computer I can use?”
“I’m sure she does.”
“I’ll let Mom know where we are and what you’re doing.” Jazmine announced this with a great deal of satisfaction.
“Fine.” Shana just bet the nine-year-old would delight in letting her mother know they were in Portland. Smiling, she wondered how Jazmine would embellish the tale.
“What if he isn’t there?”
Uh-oh. “You mean Brad?” Not once had Shana stopped to consider that. “I…I don’t know.” This wasn’t a situation in which she’d be comfortable leaving behind her newly printed business card. If Brad learned she’d come by his office, or even his condo, he’d assume the wrong thing.
“He has to be there,” she said aloud. “He just has to.”
Adam checked his watch and calculated the time in Seattle. Three-thirty. The leis should have arrived by now, according to the delivery schedule. He imagined Shana’s surprise and pleasure at opening the box and discovering the leis. The orchids were supposed to pave the way for part two of his reconciliation plan—a phone call.
He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but somehow his previous conversation with Shana had gone in completely the wrong direction. He certainly hadn’t intended to become embroiled in an argument. He couldn’t even figure out what kind of mistake he’d made. Whatever it was, he sincerely hoped she was over it by now.
Adam had talked to one of his friends about Shana’s reaction. John, another lieutenant commander, had said his wife always started an argument before he left. Apparently it was common among Navy wives. For whate
ver reason, women found it easier to send their men off to sea if they were upset with them about something. Adam didn’t understand it, but John claimed their disagreement was simply Shana’s way of letting him know she was in love with him.
That had taken Adam by surprise. Shana loved him? Shana loved him! He chose to believe it because he so badly wanted to. He wasn’t much of a romantic, but the thought of Shana waiting for him back in Seattle made him happy in a way he’d never experienced before.
He hurried home to make the call in privacy. When he didn’t think he could bear to wait another minute, he reached for the telephone and punched out the number for the ice-cream parlor. Leaning back on his sofa, feet stretched out on the coffee table, he listened to the ringing of the phone.
“Olsen’s Ice Cream and Pizza Parlor.”
The man’s voice shook Adam. “Who’s this?”
“Who’s this?” the male voice echoed.
Adam dropped his stocking feet to the floor and leaned forward far enough to prop his elbows on his knees. “Is Shana there?”
“No. Who’s calling, please?”
“Lieutenant Commander Adam Kennedy.”
“Oh, hello.” The voice instantly became friendly. “This is Louis, Catherine’s husband. I’d better let you talk to her. Hold on.”
“Should I call back later?”
“No, no, it’s fine. Here’s Cath.”
A couple of seconds later, Shana’s number-one employee was on the line. “Adam, hello.” She sounded slightly breathless. “What can I do for you?”
“I actually called to talk to Shana.”
She paused a telltale moment. “I’m sorry, but you missed her. Shana took Jazmine on a…short vacation.”
Adam’s disappointment was keen. “Did the leis arrive?” Those had cost him a pretty penny, and he hoped they weren’t sitting in a box wilting before Shana even had a chance to see them.
“Oh, yes, and she was…pleased. Jazmine, too.”
“Did she mention where she was going?” Perhaps he should try reaching her on her cell. He’d just assumed she’d be at the restaurant.
“Yes, yes, she did,” Catherine said. She seemed distracted; either Adam had phoned at a bad time or she was reluctant to tell him exactly where Shana had gone.
“I’ll try her cell,” he murmured.
“You could do that, of course,” Catherine agreed politely. “But…but she might be out of reach.”
“Why? Did they drive into the mountains?”
“Uh, no.”
Her hesitation made him suspicious. “The ocean?”
“No, ah—listen, I need to go…. There are customers waiting.”
“Catherine,” Adam said softly. She was hiding something, and he wanted to know what.
“I’ll tell Shana you phoned.”
“You said Jazmine’s with her?”
“Of course she is,” Catherine answered sharply.
“What’s going on there?” Adam demanded. “Where’s Shana?”
Catherine sighed deeply. “I told her. The minute she said she was leaving, I told Shana you’d phone. Sure enough, here I am, having to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“Shana’s in Portland, visiting a friend. Gwen—a female friend.” She spoke with finality, as though she hoped that was the end of his questions.
“Portland?” A chill raced down Adam’s arms, one that had nothing to do with the tropical breeze coming through the sliding glass door. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with Brad?”
“You’ll have to ask her that.” Catherine sighed again. “I refuse to incriminate myself—or her.”
Adam snorted. “I see.”
Dammit, he did see—and he wasn’t enjoying the view.
Chapter Twenty
Shana’s stomach tensed with anxiety. What had been a brilliant idea that morning seemed utterly ridiculous now. She waited inside the lobby of Brad’s office building, pacing back and forth, trying to put words to the mangled feelings inside her head. She was not looking for a reconciliation. But Catherine’s insight had made her aware that she’d abandoned her previous life without really settling matters with Brad. There were things that had to be said…except now, all she could think about was Adam.
Thankfully Jazmine was safely ensconced at Gwen’s. Her friend was a nurse who worked the night shift; she was up and about when Shana and Jazmine arrived on her front porch. As soon as she heard the reason for Shana’s visit, she’d sent her off with a pep talk. Gwen’s encouragement had carried Shana all the way to downtown Portland.
However, Shana’s resolve had quickly waned when she stepped inside the luxurious lobby. All of a sudden, her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth, and when someone casually walked past and greeted her, her returning “good afternoon” came out sounding like “goonoon.”
Mortified, Shana hurried into the ladies’ room and locked herself inside a stall. She hadn’t even bothered to change clothes. Filled with purpose, she’d driven to Portland in shorts and a T-shirt with a smudge of chocolate ice cream on the hem. She was about to have one of the most important conversations of her life, and she resembled someone trying out for clown school.
Sitting on the toilet seat, Shana buried her face in her hands. What was she thinking? She was astonished at her own audacity and horrified at this latest example of impulsive behavior.
Her goal, when she left Seattle in a heated frenzy, had been to make Brad Moore realize what he’d lost—and whose fault that was. She was going to end the relationship properly, definitively, for her own sake, and ultimately for his, too. After coming this far, she refused to turn back. She’d simply buy something appropriate. There was time.
That decision made, Shana walked into an ultra-expensive boutique in the lobby. Either the sales clerk took pity on her or she was afraid Shana was about to shoplift a mannequin, because she immediately shot out from behind the cash register.
“Can I help you?”
“Can you ever.” Shana threw herself on the mercy of a complete stranger. “I need an outfit that’ll make a man rue the day he—”
“Say no more.” The clerk raised her hand. “I have just the dress.” She looked Shana up and down. “Size four?”
Maybe ten years ago. “Six,” she muttered.
“Four. This dress is expensive enough to be a four.”
Shana laughed. She didn’t care how much it cost; her ego was at stake.
Once she stood in front of the mirror, Shana barely recognized the woman staring back at her. The knee-length floral dress was simple yet elegant, fanning out at her waist in pleats that emphasized her hips and long legs.
“Wow,” she whispered, impressed. She didn’t even glance at the price tag. It was better not to know.
The clerk nodded approvingly. “Perfect.”
Shana twisted around to take a gander at the back and decided that view was even sexier. She hoped Brad took a good, long look when she walked away.
Not wanting to show up clutching a bag with her shorts and T-shirt inside—that kind of contradicted the classy image—she ditched her old clothes.
The only unfortunate part of the new outfit was the matching shoes. The one pair left was a full size too small for Shana, but the slinky sandals were gorgeous. With a minimum of regret, she purchased them anyway. By the time she walked out of the boutique, her little toe on each shoe had squeezed between the narrow straps and escaped. She’d be fine as long as Brad didn’t look at her feet.
Shana was still testing her ability to walk when the elevator opened and Brad Moore entered the lobby. Swallowing her breath, Shana nearly choked when Brad saw her. He stopped abruptly, his shock unmistakable.
“Shana,” he cried. He held out his arms to her, surprise replaced by delight. “You look fabulous.”
“Yes, I do.” Now wasn’t the time for modesty, especially in light of what she’d paid for this outfit. She tilted her head to one side and allowed him to kiss her ch
eek.
“What are you doing here?”
No need to beat around the bush. “I came to see you.”
“Great.” He didn’t bother to hide his enthusiasm. “Shall we have a drink somewhere and talk?”
“That would be fine.” She played it cool, refusing to let him see how flustered she was.
Taking her by the elbow, Brad led the way out of the high-rise office tower. Shana struggled to keep up with him, the too-tight shoes pinching her feet unmercifully. Her little toes hung over the edge of the shoes and she prayed no one would notice. Thankfully there was a hotel bar across the street.
Brad led her to a small table, ordered them each a glass of merlot and grinned at her as if she were a delectable dessert.
The cocktail waitress brought their wine and Brad sent a flirtatious glance in her direction.
Once he’d finished paying for their drinks, he smiled at her confidently. “You got my message?”
“You mean the one you weren’t willing to say to me yourself?”
He had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I would have if you’d been home. Who is that kid, anyway?”
Shana was surprised Jazmine hadn’t enlightened him. “My niece. You remember my sister, Alison, don’t you? Jazmine is her daughter.”
“I met your sister once, right?” Brad raised both eyebrows. “The kid’s got attitude.”
He hadn’t seen anything yet.
“How’ve you been?” he asked, but before she could respond he added, “I’ve missed you.”
This was where—according to his script—she was supposed to tell him how lonely she’d been without him and how much she regretted the things she’d said and done.
He waited, and when she didn’t immediately offer the desired response, he frowned. “I’m glad you’re here. We have a lot to discuss.”
“I came because—”