Third Time's a Charm (30 page)

“You wouldn’t be in the mall. You’d be outside Maguire’s accosting people as they leave the restaurant.”

“Oh, pardon me. Sorry, but that’s not my idea of a good time.”

“You mean you won’t help your baby sister?” Tori pulled a pout, which was totally wasted since her sister couldn’t see her. “And after I hosted a makeup party for you last year and everything.”

“Don’t you have people who get paid to do this stuff?”

“Usually we hire a research firm.” Tori glanced in the direction of Kate’s closed office door. “But I don’t have any budget for that. Besides, I just need some quick-and-dirty statistics to check my suspicions. Come on. You can bring Joanie with you. People will want to stop and talk to you because she’s so cute.”

“Yeah, like I want to lug her around in the hot sun all day. What about Gram? She doesn’t have anything to do. Maybe she could bring some of her friends too.”

An image flashed into Tori’s mind:
The van from the
assisted living center pulls up to the curb outside Maguire’s.
The door opens. Out files a group of geriatric researchers with
clipboards swinging from their walkers. An hour later, they
collapse from heat exhaustion. Connolly and Farrin is sued for
cruelty to old people.

“You don’t want your daughter in the hot sun, but you’ll subject your grandmother to it? Nice, Allie.” She added a note of pleading. “Please? It’ll be fun. A sister thing. We can make Joan come help.”

There was a pause. “When do you need to have it done?”

Tori became hopeful at the hint of capitulation in her sister’s voice. “I can handle the Wednesday and Thursday lunch hours by myself. But I really need help Friday night, because that’s their busiest night.”

“Tell you what. I’ll do it, and I’ll even call Joan and make her do it. But there’s one condition.”

“Anything. Just name it.”

“We’re spending the night at your place for a Sanderson sister sleepover. And you have to supply all the goodies.”

“Done.” Relieved, Tori collapsed against the back of the chair. “Thanks, Allie. I’ll owe you big-time for this.”

“Oh, trust me. I know. I’m counting on it.” A cry sounded in the background. “Darn! That kid’s nap gets shorter every day. Gotta go. Love you!”

“Love you t—”

The line had gone dead. She replaced the receiver and stared at it for a long moment. Maybe Friday night she’d tell her sisters about . . . she swallowed. She couldn’t even finish the sentence in her own mind. How could she ever manage to say it out loud and watch their faces crumble?

Well, one good thing about drowning in work. It didn’t leave time to dwell on painful thoughts.

The only thing that surprised Ryan when he looked up to find Joan coming into the store Monday afternoon was the time. She’d waited until almost lunchtime. He’d fully expected to find Allie camped in the parking lot when he got to work that morning, armed with a spotlight and rubber hose, ready to beat information out of him. He’d rather face Joan any day.

She caught sight of him and veered toward the shelf where he worked restocking light bulbs. “There you are. I just made our daily bank deposit and thought I’d stop by to see how it went yesterday.”

He made a show of looking behind her. “Is Allie sick?”

She laughed. “No, but she had some things to get done this morning.”

He straightened a row of 60-watt packages and added three more to fill out the shelf. “I figured she’d want to yell at me for the latest social disaster. Which I assume you two heard about.”

Her face scrunched with sympathy. “Yeah, we were both there when Tori got home so she told us about the, uh, mud incident. But other than that, how’d it go? What did your family think of her?”

“They loved her, of course. Who wouldn’t?” He didn’t look at her, but moved to the energy efficient bulbs. “She seemed to like them too.”

“Oh, she did. She told us.”

“Well, that’s good.”

He was aware of Joan studying him as he worked, waiting for more. Allie would have had him by the collar, threatening his life if he didn’t provide a minute-by-minute account of the afternoon.

“So what’s next? Are you going out again?”

He knelt to straighten the packages on the lower shelf before answering. “I don’t know.”

“But why not?” Joan put a hand on his shoulder. “Is something wrong, Ryan?”

Yeah, something was wrong. He’d thought about nothing else all last night, when he should have been working on the paper he had due in class tomorrow. And he still hadn’t sorted out his thoughts completely. Not enough to articulate them well. But one inescapable truth refused to be ignored. No matter how attracted he was to her, Tori Sanderson and he were wrong for each other. They had absolutely nothing in common.

He stood and looked over the shelf behind them, toward the cash register where Gary stood chatting with a customer. “I don’t have a lot of money, Joan. I can’t afford to take a girl out several times a week.”

“So take her somewhere that doesn’t cost much. Go to the dollar movies. Or on a picnic. Or drive out to the horse park to see the horses.”

This was
Tori
’s sister? Was she serious? “Tori Sanderson wouldn’t set foot in the dollar movies. She expects to be wined and dined in style.” He bent his head closer to hers and lowered his voice. “Do you know how much she paid for those jeans she was wearing yesterday? Even if I
had
that kind of money, I wouldn’t spend it on a pair of jeans, no matter where they came from.”

Joan’s lips twisted sideways. “She is a little extravagant when it comes to clothes.”

“A little?” Ryan’s laugh blasted through the store. Gary glanced their way, and then returned to his conversation. “She makes Paris Hilton look like a coupon-clipper.”

“But that’s all surface stuff, Ryan. It’s how she covers up what’s inside.”

He folded his arms. “Really? And what would that be?”

“I wish I knew.” Joan’s expression grew soft. “Maybe you can help her figure it out.”

Ryan started to protest, but then he remembered the box of pictures. She had been so hesitant to look at them. Fearful, even. But after they started, she’d relaxed and even smiled as she recounted some of her memories. She’d opened up.

But the idea of him helping someone like Tori? Ridiculous.

He shook his head. “Honestly, I think you and Allie would be better off putting your matchmaking skills to use somewhere else. Tori and I are just too different.”

Joan smiled. “Sometimes those are the best matches.” She backed up. “I’d better let you work. Just do me a favor and pray about it. If God wants you two to get together, He’ll let you know. And if not . . .” She shrugged. “Allie and I will just have to start over.”

He couldn’t help laughing. Allie would be furious to have her plans thwarted, even by the Almighty.

18

The lunch crowd at Maguire’s on Wednesday and Thursday didn’t hold any surprises for Tori. Mostly well-dressed business people, more than a few of them entertaining clients or conducting informal meetings over a nice meal. Polite, but many of them weren’t overly interested in answering her questions, free dessert or not.

Her spirits low, she returned to the office Thursday afternoon. On the one hand, she did have a couple of ideas for her ad campaign. But the specter of those three failed businesses cast a shadow over her enthusiasm for the project. Between that and the distant but intense ache over the discovery that Daddy . . . but she kept that thought tucked in the back of her mind, where it belonged. Nor would she think about the pictures she and Ryan had looked at.

And why hadn’t Ryan called her since he dropped her off Sunday afternoon, clutching her smelly clothes in a plastic bag? She could have talked to him, told him about her discovery. A couple of times she’d thought about calling him, but then she remembered the look of shock in his eyes when he found out the price of her jeans. He thought she was foolish. Heck, he might even be right. The thought depressed her even further.

She followed a car into the parking lot and pulled into an empty space beside it. When the driver stood, she recognized Phil Osborne. He caught sight of her, gave a nod of acknowledgment, and stood waiting by his rear bumper while she gathered her purse and exited her car. His car displayed one of those gold fish emblems on the back, just like the one on Allie’s.

He gave her a wide smile as she approached. “Hey there. Late lunch today?”

Phil had been friendly all week, which Tori appreciated since Kate’s manner toward her was decidedly chilly. Not that Tori minded, particularly, since it meant she’d been relatively free from her boss’s constant demands. Still, she couldn’t help notice that Mitch had spent an abnormal amount of time in Kate’s office this week.

Tori held up the folder containing her questionnaire and coupons. “Actually, I’ve been doing some research over at Maguire’s.”

They fell in step together. “How’s that coming?”

She shrugged, then admitted, “Not as well as I’d hoped.”

“Anything I can do to help?” They arrived at the stairwell, and he opened the door for her.

She paused before stepping through. Phil and Kate were about as different as two people could be. Imagine what it would be like to work for someone who actually tried to help you with your job, instead of throwing you into fierce competition with your co-worker.

What was it Mitch had said? Kate would take the firm to the next level, and the partners knew it. When she was made partner, the whole attitude of the firm would change. What would happen to Phil then? He’d seemed so distraught the night he came out of Mr. Connolly’s office after learning of Kate’s impending promotion.

Tori eyed him. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

He seemed surprised. “Sure.”

“Are you okay with this partner situation?”

“Ah.” He let the door close and turned his back to it, his gaze scanning the parking lot absently. “I admit I wasn’t happy when Stephen told me of his and Dan’s decision. There are sure to be some changes when Kate becomes a full partner.” His smile became wistful. “But after spending a lot of time thinking and praying about it”—he glanced at her as he said the word—“I’ve realized it was a logical move for this firm. Kate’s a strong marketing professional.”

“So are you.” Tori didn’t know why she felt the need to defend him, but she did.

He smiled. “Thank you. But there’s a difference between us. Our priorities are different, and I’m not willing to change mine.” He held up a hand and unfolded a finger as he listed them. “God first. My family second. My job third.”

The pictures in his office, prominently displayed, supported his statement. The framed Bible verse, the row of smiling family members. Tori had noticed several shots of a young woman who looked a lot like Phil. His daughter, she’d assumed.

Lucky girl, to have a father who actually lists her as a
priority.

Unexpected tears filled her eyes. She turned away quickly, but not before Phil noticed.

“Tori? Is something wrong?”

The note of concern in his voice conjured even more tears to blur her vision. To her embarrassment, they overflowed to slide down her cheeks. She dashed them quickly away and sniffed.

“Nothing. I—” A sob choked her. She drew a shuddering breath and risked a glance at him. His eyes held such compassion that words tumbled out before she could stop them. “I haven’t seen my father since I was nine. I just found out that he . . . died last year.”

A car pulled into the concrete garage and approached slowly, looking for an empty parking space. Great. Someone else to see her unprofessional behavior. Tori wiped away another couple of tears with her fingers.

“Here.” Phil put an arm around her and steered her away, back toward their cars. “My wife keeps a package of Kleenex in the glove compartment.”

“No, I’ve got one here.” Sniffing, she opened her purse and rummaged in it as they walked. “Somewhere.”

They arrived at Phil’s car before she could find anything to wipe her eyes with. She managed to get herself under control as he retrieved the tissues, and by the time he pressed the small package into her hands, the tears had stopped flowing. How absolutely mortifying, to cry in front of an executive from the office.

“I’m sorry.” She swabbed at her damp cheeks and avoided looking at his face. “I didn’t mean to get all emotional.”

“Please don’t worry about that.” He leaned against his car door, and she heard a smile in his voice. “I have a daughter about your age. I’m used to displays of emotion.”

“I know. I saw her picture in your office. That’s what made me—” Drat! There came more tears, just when she thought she had them under control. She covered her eyes with the tissue to catch them before they fell. “I was just thinking how lucky she is to have a father who cares about her.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw him put a hand in his pants pocket. “I’m sorry for your loss, Tori. It’s hard to lose a parent, even one you don’t know well. Maybe it’s even harder then.”

She gulped in a breath of air to stop another sob. That’s one of the thoughts she’d been trying so hard to ignore all week. It
was
harder, because now, it was too late to confront Daddy with her questions. Too late to find out why he’d left her.