Bittersweet Surrender (20 page)

“Hey, I forgot to ask you. I've been thinking I'd like someone to have a key to my house. You know, in case of an emergency.”

She grinned. “Oh, you mean like if you lock yourself out or something?”

“Or something. Really, I was thinking more along the lines of if I couldn't get home to take care of Superman for some reason, if someone had a key they could take care of him for me.”

“Okay.”

“So I can give you a key?”

“Sure. You'd do the same for Pinkie, right?” She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a teasing glance.

“Absolutely.” His smile warmed her. “I'll get you the key soon. Thanks.”

She stood there and watched as he drove away. Some days she didn't know what she would do without Scott Hammond in her life.

twelve

All the way home Scott thought about Carly
and her situation. She needed to play hardball with C. J., but Scott knew she struggled with that. That was the reason, no doubt, she was in this current mess. C. J. had taken advantage of her and she'd let him. Scott resented C. J. for his spoiled attitude. Maybe with Carly finally taking a stand, C. J. would grow up.

He pulled into his garage and went inside. “Hey, Superman.” His basset hound greeted him at the door, nails clacking against the floor, tail furiously whipping the air behind him. He nuzzled into Scott's leg. Scott bent over and scratched the dog's back in his favorite spot, which immediately set his paw to thumping rhythmically against the ceramic tile. “How you doing, buddy?”

Superman was getting up in age and his sense of smell just wasn't what it used to be. The fact Scott couldn't trust his hound with spoiled meat was a shame they had both grown to live with. Who'd ever heard of a basset that couldn't smell? Still, the old hound dog had a lot of life left in him, so the two of them managed.

Before Scott could throw his keys on the counter, Superman disappeared. Scott knew where he'd gone. It was a game the old dog never tired of playing.

“Come on, Superman. Give me a chance to grab some lunch, will ya?” Reaching into the refrigerator, Scott gathered some sandwich fixings and began preparing his meal. Once the sandwich was ready, a thump on the floor caused Scott to turn around and see Superman dragging Scott's sneaker across the tile, laces trailing. The pooch dropped his grip, clutched the shoe once again between his teeth, carried it a few more feet, and finally abandoned it at the back door before he raced to the bedroom for the other one. A surefire way to get Scott to take him on a walk.

Scott shook his head and smiled before praying over his lunch. While Superman prepared for their walk, Scott dug into his meal, his mind working through Carly's problem. There was no easy way out of it. Gambling was a hard thing. Ivy had had spending problems herself, so he could only imagine what the strain of a gambling addiction could do to a marriage.

Poor Carly. Having to deal with C. J. and then the work situation. How could he tell her the disbursement check wasn't going to be all she'd hoped? He couldn't explain it, but there wasn't much he could do about it. She shouldn't have let things go so long. Maybe the further he dug into the books, the better it would get. Unfortunately, experience hadn't taught him that.

Superman tugged on his leg and Scott tried to brush him away. “Give me a minute, will you?” He tried to read through the paper, but Superman wouldn't hear of it.

“All right, all right. I'll go.”

The phone rang and Scott picked it up. “Hello?”

“Guess we never got around to hanging out all that much,” Brian said.

“Uh-oh, the girls are back?”

“Yep.”

“Sorry, bro. It's been pretty crazy here.”

“I get it. It's been hectic here, too, even with the family gone.”

They talked a moment about his wife and the kids and their trip. Brian seemed to be stalling about something.

“Okay, what's up? The real reason behind the phone call?” Brian cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”

“Listen, cut to the chase. We both know you're up to something. I know you as well as I know myself. Spill it.”

“Well, Donna has this woman she wants to you to meet—”

“No.”

“Now hear me out.”

“No. I love you and Donna, Brian. I do. But—” Scott's brain scrambled for an excuse. “I'm, uh, seeing someone.” As he said it, he rolled his eyes. It was the best he could do. Besides, Melissa qualified as someone. They'd gone for coffee, dinner. This was the only way he could get Brian and everyone else off his back. Evidently, the world thought it was time for him to get back into the dating business.

Scott could tell the comment caught Brian off guard.

“Oh, that happened fast. Are you sure?”

Brian knew him well. “Yes. Her name is Melissa Winters. We've gone out a few times.”

“Is it serious?”

The comment caused an upheaval in Scott's midsection. He feared this conversation could get out of control. “Look, I'm dating. Don't push it.”

Brian laughed. “Well, good for you! No wonder you weren't interested in anyone else. And here you let me go on about Carly and all that.”

Scott turned the conversation to the drop in the housing market and they finally said their good-byes. Superman was still waiting on him. Looking at his hound, Scott remembered the key he was supposed to give to Carly in case of a trip or emergency so she could watch Superman for him.

If only he could remember where he'd put the extra set.

He hadn't checked in Ivy's office desk. It could be in there. He walked back to her office and opened the door. He rarely came in here. It had been too painful.

This time, though, when he stepped inside it was a little easier. Walking over to the desk, he searched through the big drawer with miscellaneous papers, wrappers, pens, pencils. No key. Then he looked through the small top drawer. Bingo. Not only did he find the house key, he found another key with a red ribbon on it. He puzzled over it for a moment. He hated leaving unmarked keys lying around. Stuffing it into his pocket, he made a mental note to come back to this office and maybe check the spa office to see if he could find where the key fit.

“Hi. I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to
drop by and welcome Katelyn,” Carly said when Jake opened the door. After seeing the look on his face, she wondered if she had done the right thing. Maybe he would think she was chasing after him or something. Or worse, maybe he would think she was a stalker. That thought made a warm sensation climb her cheeks.

“Come on in,” he said, reluctantly stepping out of the way.

A few boxes remained in quiet corners, but the furniture was in place. Empty pizza boxes, crumpled napkins, and a few bits of leftover crust littered the kitchen table.

Katelyn stood in the room, her face red, breathing labored. Carly realized quickly she'd walked in on an argument. The teenager was tall, had a thick build like her father, and was dressed in total black. Black hair, black lipstick, black clothes, black shoes. She was either into Goth or she had major color issues. But despite her lack of color, Katelyn had high cheekbones and wide, expressive blue eyes.

There was an awkward silence while Carly waited on Jake to make the introductions. He didn't, so she walked over to his daughter.

“Hi, Katelyn. I'm Carly. Just wanted to welcome you to town.”

“Thanks,” the girl said.

Carly extended a bouquet she'd held behind her back. “These are for you.”

Katelyn blinked in surprise. “Thanks again.” She took the flowers and breathed them in. “I love flowers.”

The girl looked a tad frightening holding the colorful bouquet against the stark contrast of her Goth self. The vision reminded Carly of a colorized version of an old movie.

“Well, I won't stay, but I wanted to drop in and say hello.” Glancing back at Jake, Carly took in his crossed arms and firmly set jaw. She felt embarrassed. Evidently, her timing wasn't the greatest.

Turning back around, she faced Katelyn. Something in her wanted to diffuse the tension. “You need to stop by the spa sometime, Katelyn, and I'll show you around.”

The girl brightened. “Really? Dad told me about your spa. I would like that.” She seemed genuinely interested.

“Good. Stop by any time. If I'm not giving a treatment, I'll take you around.” She turned to go.

Jake's tired face relaxed. “Thanks, Carly,” he whispered, allowing her to slip through the door. “I had a great time last night, by the way,” he said, tossing a wink.

“Me too.”

“I'll call you.” He tipped his head toward his daughter. “Later. When things calm down a little.”

Carly nodded. Just as she had suspected, they were having some struggles. Maybe it was a good thing she didn't have children after all. She wouldn't have the first clue how to deal with these types of things.

Carly rummaged through the cauliflower
in the produce section of the grocery store. Just as she bent down to get a closer look, the overhead sprayer came on, misting her face with a tingly cold sensation. She jumped back.

“I hate it when that happens, don't you?” A sweet laugh rang behind her—a voice she couldn't quite place.

Carly turned, dabbing at the moisture on her face.

“Belinda? Belinda Beason? How are you?” The two long-lost classmates laughed and hugged each other.

“I'm fine. I've recently moved back to town.”

At least
she
has a reason for being in the produce department on a Saturday night. “Really?”

“Yeah. Mom hasn't been in the best of health, and I needed a career change. I'm single and carefree, so I figured why not come back to my roots?” A beautiful smile emphasized the dimple at the corner of her mouth.

Now, to Carly's way of thinking this situation had definite possibilities.

“You know, Belinda, Jake Mitchell recently moved back to town too. Don't know if you remember him from school, but anyway, I want to have a little get-together with some friends this Friday night. Would you like to come? Nothing fancy. Just grill out or something. You remember my brother, C. J., and his wife, Rita?”

“Sure.”

“They'll probably be there, and a few other people.”

“That would be great. I'd love to reconnect with old friends.”

They talked a little while longer and made plans for the following Friday. As Belinda strolled her cart off, Carly smiled.

She needed to introduce Scott to someone else before Melissa Winters got her clutches too far into him.

“Hey, Carly, you sure it 's all right for me
to visit now?” Katelyn asked.

Carly was tempted to ask her if she watched
The Addams Family
. She bore a peculiar resemblance to Morticia.

“This is a perfect time.” Carly introduced Katelyn to Scott and they talked a moment while Carly put away the inventory she was working on and grabbed some pistachios. “Ready to go?”

Katelyn eagerly nodded.

“First off, you can't go on a tour without a cup of hot chocolate in hand.” Carly turned to her. “Please don't tell me you stay away from sugar.”

Katelyn smiled. “Nope. Everything in balance,” she said.

Carly stared at her, mouth gaping. “You, young lady, are wise beyond your years.” She then proceeded to tell Katelyn about her stepmother's health thing and how Scott had replaced her chocolate with pistachios. By the time they had finished walking and talking, they both were laughing and totally relaxed with one another.

“Now, you can't leave here without a treatment. I'll give you the choice of an eyebrow wax, pedicure, or manicure.”

Katelyn stared at Carly as though she'd offered her the moon. “You're serious?”

Carly smiled. “Completely.”

Katelyn bit her bottom lip. “I'd like to have a manicure.”

Carly was surprised by that. Wearing no polish and dressed in black, she didn't seem a nail polish kind of gal.

“Great. Let's go over here.” She led the way to the manicure station. “I hope you don't want black polish. We don't carry that color.”

“Oh, no. Tomorrow starts pink week,” Katelyn said.

“Pink week?”

“Yeah, I go through color phases. Don't ask me why. It's just me.” She lifted a cute grin, and Carly instinctively smiled back. Something about the girl was endearing.

“Individuality is a good thing,” Carly said. “How about this one?” She held up a pale shade of pink.

Katelyn scrunched her nose. “No offense, but I like this one.” Her eyes sparkled as she lifted a different bottle.

“Okay, then. Hot pink it is.” She settled Katelyn in a chair and got to work trimming and cleaning. “Is there a rhyme or reason to what color you decide to wear?” she asked while buffing and smoothing out Katelyn's nails.