Название | Lakeside Family |
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Автор произведения | Lisa Jordan |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
“Climb back out, Alice. We have some figures to discuss.” The creases around his eyes deepened as he winked at her. He tugged his John Deere baseball hat out of his back pocket and plopped it on top of his balding head.
Josie jerked her head toward the door. “Let’s go downstairs. I’ll get you guys some coffee.”
Ian held the door for them. “Say, Josie. Is Agnes working?”
As Josie passed by him, she took in his black suit, white creaseless shirt, shiny shoes and trimmed hair. “Yes, Ian, but roll up your tongue. She doesn’t need another man in her life right now.”
“When did you become her mother?” he muttered, following her down the stairs.
“After I cleaned up the train wreck of her marriage. You saw what that jerk did to her.” Josie opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk. A late-winter breeze whisked across her cheeks.
“Josie, chill. I’m not going to cheat on her. I just want to take her to dinner.”
Entering the coffee shop, Josie sniffed the scent of freshly baked blueberry cobbler. Her stomach growled. “Everyone’s charming on the first date, aren’t they?”
“When did you become so cynical?” He smoothed a hand over his hair.
Josie opened her mouth and then shut it. No need to yank those skeletons from her closet. Shelby Lake was her fresh start.
She gentled her voice and placed a hand on his arm. “Listen, Ian, you’re a great guy, but take it slow, okay? Agnes looks like she has it all together, but her heart is pieced together with Scotch Tape.”
Ian pocketed his Clark Kent glasses and stared over her shoulder a minute. Then he pulled his gaze back to meet hers. He touched the tip of her nose. “Are you sure you’re still talking about Agnes?”
“Positive. Find a table. I need to pull cobbler out of the oven.” Before he had a chance to protest, Josie whirled away from him.
Crazy talk.
Her heart was just fine, thank you very much.
Besides, she and Agnes looked out for each other. That’s what friends did.
She pushed through the kitchen door and knocked heads with Agnes. So much for looking out for her.
“Sugar Pie, where’s the fire?” Agnes rubbed the right side of her forehead.
Josie sniffed back sudden tears as she scrunched her throbbing eye closed. “Sorry, Aggie. I didn’t see you.”
Agnes primped her curls. “And here, I thought I made my hair extra high this morning. Figured you could’ve seen it through the window.”
“Yeah, if I was looking for Texas-size hair.”
“How’d it go upstairs?”
“Ugh.” Josie gloved her hands with pink pig oven mitts and pulled open the oven door. Heat pressed against her face and neck. She pulled out a bubbling blueberry cobbler and set it on top of the stove.
“That good, huh?”
Josie slapped the mitts next to the dessert, crossed her arms and leaned one hip against the counter. “Am I a terrible person who deserves all of this grief? Doesn’t seem fair.”
“Life doesn’t play fair, Sugar Pie. This ain’t about you, so don’t go taking this on yourself. You’re doing the best you can with what you’ve got.”
“If I had the toilet fixed when Beatrice mentioned it, we wouldn’t be in this mess. A lousy two-dollar part would’ve saved me thousands. What sort of responsible business owner am I?”
Agnes grabbed Josie’s arms and squeezed gently. “The kind who is trying to do everything and be everything to everyone. Cut yourself some slack.”
“If only—”
“No ‘if onlys’ about it. You could waste forever on shoulda woulda coulda. Yesterday is all gone, thank you. Instead, focus on what you’re going to do now to fix it. That’s what matters. None of us expected this to happen.”
Ian poked in his head in the kitchen. “Josie, Harv had a call and left. He said he’ll stop back in later, but he left an estimate. And I need to head back to the office.”
“I’m coming now.” With Agnes on her heels, Josie followed him to the dining room table where Ian had his computer tablet and a yellow legal pad spread out.
Ian handed her an invoice. “This is Harv’s estimate. He’ll go over it with you later.”
Josie’s eyes widened at the number of zeroes to the left of the decimal point. She glanced at Agnes and Ian. “Twenty thousand? Seriously?”
Ian guided her to the chair and forced her to sit. He took one beside her. “Don’t worry, Josie. The insurance should cover it.”
“Should?” Her voice squeaked. “It has to.”
“Normally, yes, but in cases of neglect, things get a little dicey.”
She gripped the edge of the paper. “Do you know how many cancer treatments twenty thousand will buy?” Not to mention, it could go a long way toward her growing pile of co-pays and medical bills. She couldn’t afford to waste it on a stupid toilet problem.
Agnes set a steaming cup of tea in front of Josie. “Drink, Sugar Pie.”
She cupped her hands around the mug, breathed in herbal mint and blinked back tears. “I can’t afford this, Aggie. I could sell the shop, but then I’ll lose Hannah’s insurance.”
Agnes pulled out a chair and sat opposite of Ian, sandwiching his hands between her own. “Ian James, you know as well as I do that Josie has been spending every possible minute with her daughter, taking her to the doctor and chemo treatments and keeping this place running.”
“Of course, Agnes.” The tips of his ears turned crimson.
“Don’t seem to me that it’s neglect if she simply hasn’t had time to attend to it. Why, that’s just silly. Shame on you for making this poor girl cry. As if she doesn’t have enough to worry about already. Now you be a good insurance man and file the paperwork so Josie doesn’t have to worry her pretty little head about this anymore.” She patted his cheek as if he were a six-year-old child being scolded for eating cookies before dinner.
Agnes stood and slid her hand under Josie’s elbow, guiding her to stand. “Come along, Josie. Ian will take care of everything. Won’t you, darlin’?”
Slack-jawed, Josie stared at her friend and then slid a glance at Ian. The poor man was so smitten by Agnes—and no, she didn’t blame him—he’d probably don a chicken suit and cluck if requested.
Pushing to his feet, Ian cleared his throat and ran a hand over his slicked-back hair. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Josie. I’ll make sure everything is taken care of. I’ll call Harv and deal with him myself. Agnes is right. You have more important things to worry about.”
Agnes rounded the table and showered him with a honey-laden smile. She brushed invisible lint off his jacket and straightened his narrow pinstriped tie. “You are a good, good man, Ian James. You and I both know Josie isn’t neglectful. Forgetful, maybe, but can you blame the poor dear? Her mind is wrapped around her calendar and her daughter’s health.” Agnes spun on her toes and sashayed her size six Texas dynamo behind the counter to wait on a customer.
Ian fumbled to put his notepad and computer tablet in his hard-sided briefcase. He removed his glasses from his pocket and set them on his nose without taking his eyes off Agnes. “She’s a firecracker, isn’t she?”
Josie glanced over her at her friend and grinned. “That’s