The Girl Who Wrote in Silk (13 page)

“Yes. Then it went on to China from there.” Daniel clapped his hands together, startling her. “I think we need a break. Can I take you to lunch? I hear there’s a great new restaurant in Eastsound.”

Inara swallowed hard and forced herself to look away from the sleeve. She mustered a smile. “That would be nice. Just give me a minute.”

She escaped to her bedroom upstairs, feeling unsettled. Whatever story Mei Lien was telling on the sleeve, Inara knew it was sad and had something to do with Duncan Campbell, their family hero.

She stared out the window toward the main house—the legacy left to her by that hero.

She shook her head and forced on a smile to improve her mood. She was being silly, letting embroidery affect her like this. Whatever story the sleeve was telling, it couldn’t be that bad. Right?

• • •

Why
did
I
agree
to
this?
Inara asked herself not for the first time as the hostess at the New Leaf Cafe led them to their table half an hour later. The tiles she’d finally decided upon for the guest room showers needed to be ordered, and she had to make a final decision on whether to enlarge the restaurant space, thereby closing off the great hall at one end. Tom’s crew would be ready to start on it Monday morning if they’d finished framing the new walls that would turn the upstairs sitting room into a guest room. Really, her time was better spent at work.

But then again, what harm was there in a quick lunch with an attractive man?

“How did you hear about this place?” she asked as the hostess left them with their menus.

“My mom told me about it, actually. She’s the owner and executive chef at Toisan in Seattle and Bellevue. She once worked with the chef who started this restaurant.”

Inara dropped her menu. “Your mom owns Toisan?”

He just grinned.

“Remind me to never cook for you. Can’t compete.” Why did she just say that? Hoping he didn’t notice the implication of any future relationship between them, she went on. “The food at Toisan is amazing. My family eats there all the time.”

“Then you’ve probably seen my mother. She practically lives at the restaurants.”

The waiter appeared to take their drink orders. Once he left, Inara said, “Tell me more about your family.”

Daniel’s features softened in a way that told her he loved his family very much. “It’s just Mom, my grandmother who lives with my mom, and my sister, Cassie. My extended family lives out of the area.”

A family of females could indicate he had a softer side to him, like her own brother, Nate. “Tell me about Cassie. Are you close?”

“She’s a pain in the ass, but I love her.” His eyes gleamed. “She’s younger than me by four years and works as an attorney. Family law.”

“Impressive.” She scanned the menu but kept the conversation going. “You mentioned your grandmother lives with your mother?”

He nodded as he set his menu aside. “Yeah, on Beacon Hill, in the house where I grew up. She knows everything there is to know about every Chin who ever lived. She’s better than Ancestry.com.”

The waiter arrived with their wine and to take their orders. When he left, Daniel tilted his glass toward her. “Your turn. Tell me about your family.”

She took a moment to sip her wine and reach for a breadstick from the basket as she decided how much was safe to tell him. Until she knew more, she wasn’t ready to admit that the ship on the sleeve belonged to her family. However, not many people knew PMG used to be called Campbell Lines, so she’d be safe telling him a little history. “Well, my dad runs Premier Maritime Group, shipping and cruise lines. He took over from my mother’s father, and he’s now grooming my big brother, Nathan, to take the reins from him someday. My sister, Olivia, is a doctor. Both of my siblings are married with adorable kids.” She bit into the breadstick.

“And your mom?”

She stalled by chewing slowly. She never liked talking about her mother to people who hadn’t known her. Usually she brushed the question aside and talked about something else, but Daniel sat waiting for her answer like he had all the time in the world.

She washed the bread down with more wine. “She died when I was fifteen. Right here on Orcas, in fact. Car accident.”

His lips pressed together in sympathy, but then he surprised her. Instead of awkward words of condolence, he said, “I lost my dad eight years ago. Cancer.”

So he understood. “I’m sorry.” Now she was the one with the lame condolence.

“I still think of him every day.” He tilted his head to the side. “Tell me about her. Your mom.”

A surprising urge to open up to him came over her, but she knew the risk. Mom, and everything that was tied to her memory, was too deeply woven into her soul to be treated like any old conversation topic with someone she barely knew.

But Daniel did seem genuinely interested. And he’d get it, at least partly. Maybe that was enough.

“Well.” She wiped her palms on the napkin spread across her lap as she sorted how to begin. “Everything she did was done big. She ran the philanthropic side of PMG and was constantly on the go, raising funds to help orphaned children in South Korea or land-mine victims in Rwanda. She often picked up newly arrived refugees from the airport herself to help them get settled in the United States. That kind of thing. And yet, at home, she made me feel like my siblings and I were her whole world.”

“She sounds amazing.”

“She was.” She looked down at the blue candle between them. “Losing her tore me apart. If it wasn’t for my father, I don’t know what would have happened to me. He kept me focused in school and was a big influence on my decision to go into international business.”

“Did you work for PMG?”

“No. He wanted me to, but I always knew I had to do my own thing. Dad says I’m too independent.”

“Independence isn’t a bad thing.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “Although the few times I’ve exerted my independence, Dad wouldn’t have agreed with that statement.” She laughed to lighten the mood. “That’s hardly ever an issue, though. Since what happened the night Mom died, I try not to argue with Dad more than necessary. But he’s been pushing my buttons lately.”
Like
with
pink
toilets
.

Daniel leaned his forearms on the linen tablecloth. “What happened the night your mom died?”

Change
the
subject
. But when she opened her mouth, the words that came weren’t the ones she’d intended. “We fought the night she died.” How did he keep getting her to do that?

She gulped her wine, then realized Daniel wasn’t staring at her in horror. More like pity. She didn’t know which was worse. She looked out the window at the flower box and sighed. “Mom was heading back to Seattle to meet a family resettling here from Somalia and wanted me to go with her and help. I wanted to stay on the island because the boy I had a crush on was having a party the next night. We got into it as only mothers and teenage daughters can. I screamed into her face that I hated her, and at that moment I meant it. She told me I was selfish, and I was, and then she walked out without saying another word and drove away.”

She paused for breath. “‘I hate you’ were the last words she heard from me.”

His warm hand covered hers and squeezed, sending shivers of awareness through her. “I’m sure she knew you didn’t mean it.”

Inara looked at his hand and noticed the white half-moons on his fingernails. “I shouldn’t have said it, and I have to accept responsibility for the fact that my mother was the safest driver I knew and I upset her enough that night to distract her. They think a deer or something probably ran onto the road and her car skidded out of control on the wet pavement, but I was with her a handful of times before when that happened and she handled it fine. The only thing different that night was our fight.”

Daniel’s thumb was rubbing the back of her hand. She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away, as though it wasn’t her own hand she saw in his.

Suddenly uncomfortable with how much she’d revealed to him, she drew back her hand and occupied it with her wineglass. “Whew!” She pasted on a bright smile. “Let’s change the subject. Are you single?”

He didn’t play along with her, though. Instead, he tilted his head to the side like he was trying to figure her out, but then a slow grin made its way across his face and a single dimple appeared in his left cheek. “I like you, Inara Erickson.”

So this was how he wanted to play. She tilted her own head, copying him. “I like you too, Daniel Chin.”

Their server appeared with their lunch, and the subject turned to less personal topics, though awareness of each other vibrated through them unabated.

Later, as Daniel drove her back to Rothesay, he said, “I’m sure you need to get back to work. But if not, I’m going to spend a few hours digging through archives at the Orcas Island Historical Museum before heading to the ferry. Care to join me?”

His invitation was tempting, if only to spend more time with him. “I wish I could, but you’re right; I do need to get back.”

“I’ll let you know if I find anything interesting.” They drove in silence until they pulled up in front of her house, where he parked but made no move to get out of the car. He shifted in the driver’s seat to face her. “I am, by the way.”

She was reaching for the door handle but stopped to look at him. “You are what?”

His eyes danced. “Single.”

She felt a smile tug at her lips and couldn’t help but give in to it. “Good to know.”

“Can I take you to dinner the next time you’re in Seattle?”

It would be so easy to fall for this guy, but the timing was horrible. “I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

“Me neither, yet here we are.” His dimple flashed, drawing her gaze to his mouth.

Yes indeed, here they were. Heck, the next time she was in Seattle could be months away. What would be the harm in agreeing to one dinner? “I’d like that.”

He shifted closer, instantly heating the air between them.

She swallowed, and even though she tried to stop it, her tongue slipped out to wet her lips.

Daniel leaned closer, so close she could smell the spice of his cologne. Time slowed down. Her focus narrowed so that nothing else existed but the two of them and the sound of their breathing. Her gaze traced his slightly parted lips, and she wanted nothing more than to taste them.

When his mouth was mere inches from her own, something in her brain clicked and she pulled away, at the same time fumbling for the door handle and pushing it open.

“Th-thank you for lunch.” She didn’t look at him as she got to her feet, then reached back to grab her purse from the car floor.

“You’re welcome.”

She could tell by his voice that he was smiling, but she still couldn’t look at him. She was about to slam the car door shut and escape when she remembered the sleeve and purses inside the house. “Wait a second,” she said, finally meeting his amused gaze. “I’ll run inside and get your boxes.”

“Nah,” he said, leaning across the center console. The look in his eyes teased her for being a chicken, but all he did was smile and say, “You can bring them when you come to town. I’m going to have my team focus on Mei Lien and Joseph for a while. Try to figure out their story.”

“Okay.” She stepped back, her hand on the door ready to close it, but she lingered, feeling awkward, like she should explain herself but not knowing what to say. “Have a safe drive.”

His dimple flashed. “See you soon, I hope.”

She shut the car door and backed away, waving and hoping her smile didn’t look dopey, because as much as she knew she should keep things professional between them, she really did like him.

She didn’t wait for Daniel to clear the drive before she turned and headed to the manor. Time for some good, old-fashioned hard work to clear her head.

• • •

Early the next morning, before Tom’s crews usually showed up, Inara was awakened by the sound of a car driving in, its brakes squealing as it stopped in front of the house.

She groggily got up to peer through the upstairs sitting room windows to the driveway out front.

A white sedan was parked near the fountain. A plump woman with short blond hair stood at the open trunk, her eye gazing through the viewfinder of a camera pointed toward the manor. As Inara watched, she lowered the camera, walked a few feet closer to the fountain, and lifted the camera back to her eye again.

What
in
the
world?
Inara went back to the bedroom and threw on her clothes from the previous day before slipping downstairs and out the front door.

“Excuse me. Can I help you with something?”

The woman glanced her way, paused, then snapped one more shot of the main house before facing her fully. She stuck out her hand. “Good morning. You must be Ms. Erickson. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I wanted to get some photos before your construction crews get here. I’m Lacey Gray, with Luxe Real Estate in Seattle. Your father asked me to take a look at the property and provide a market analysis so you could see what you could get for this place. It’s amazing, by the way. I like what you’re doing with it.”

Inara couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. “Market analysis?”

Lacey’s smile was brighter than the sun spearing over Mount Constitution. “I’d love a tour, if you have the time, both inside and out. From what I can tell so far, we could slant the listing toward private buyers as well as commercial.” She shot another picture of the garage wing.

Inara still couldn’t move. Or speak.

“Of course, in this economy, it might take a while to find a buyer, but don’t worry; we’re the best.” Lacey kept talking and snapping pictures, unaware of Inara’s inner horror.

He’d done it again, she realized. Her father wasn’t taking her seriously, and he was trying to steamroller her into doing what he thought best. And clearly he thought she should sell.

What was going on in his mind? Was Starbucks such a great job that he couldn’t accept her turning it down? Or was it more personal? Was he trying to protect her from the failure he thought inevitable?