Cherishing You (Thirsty Hearts Book 3) (10 page)

T
he argument
with Shannon stayed with Jonah. Somehow, he made her feel cheap while dropping ten grand on a dress. The thought disturbed him. He only wanted to make her feel beautiful.

He thought about the pride she had in her tiny apartment. Why? She finally had a nice place of her own. She’d earned it. He should be able to understand what it was like to feel dependent. The scenario was different, but the situation was the same. Or nearly the same. Jonah still had never earned a dime that his father did not give him.

I work, he reminded himself. His office phone rang, and he thought about ignoring it. Jonah glanced around at the sleek, modern office his sister had designed for him. He worked, but none of it was his. Even after Tom Moran was long gone, this place, Jonah thought, would always be his father’s. The phone rang again.

“Hello?”

“Jonah, your father wants to know if they should drop by to pick you up in the limo on Saturday.”

His father’s secretary handled all of these details flawlessly.

“No. I’ll drive myself. I have to pick up my date.”

“Very well. Let us know if you change your mind.”

Jonah hung up and focused back on the document in front of him. His father had commissioned a study on Jonah’s chances of election to the House of Representatives. A consultant examined the politics of the gerrymandered district where he lived as well as Jonah’s personal assets and liabilities.

“The campaign would have to spin Jonah’s rakish reputation. He’s rarely seen with the same woman for more than two months at a time and interviews with several of his ex-girlfriends reveal some ill feeling. Having a steady female presence in his life—or better a wife—prior to announcing his bid would ameliorate public impression. Women scorned come across as bitter when the man in question has settled down with an appropriate companion.”

Consultants. Nothing but shit shovelers. What did they expect him to do? Run down to the Junior League and drag some poor girl out by the hair?

“You see, I’m in need of an appropriate companion,” he could tell them.

He threw the report across his desk and let his mind wander back to Shannon. Consultants probably wouldn’t deem her appropriate, but they wouldn’t see the stubborn tilt to her chin when she spoke up for herself. They’d miss the broad streak of decency and pride in her. What more appropriate political wife than one who could empathize with the everyday struggles most people faced?

Jonah might not even run for office. He said as much, but his parents didn’t listen. Maybe a shocking scandal would render him unelectable and settle the issue for good.

S
hannon fell easily
into working with Vivienne. Not that the work was so difficult. Vivienne had received a shipment of pillow covers, duvets, and coverlets from one of her vendors. Each item needed to be matched to a customer job and set aside for delivery.

Shannon looked again at her list of job numbers and then the list of what had been received. The job order called for six pillow covers, but she saw only three in the shipment. Shannon put a question mark by that one with a note to ask Vivienne about it later. She found another discrepancy a few minutes later. A quilt was missing. After cataloging everything, she wandered down the hall and found her boss in her office.

Not wanting to barge in, Shannon hovered in the doorway. “Knock, knock. Do you have a second?”

“Sure.” Vivienne flipped a large binder of fabric samples closed and gestured for her to come in.

“There were a couple of things missing from the shipment, but I noticed them on the bill.” Shannon pointed to the line items she flagged. Vivienne huffed and threw her pen on the desk.

“I swear. If they didn’t make such fabulous textiles, I’d quit ordering from that place. The covers are fine. See this notation here? This shipment is completing an order we should have received a couple of weeks ago. We were missing three pillows. However, it looks like this time they did miss the linen quilt. I’ll have to call them later.”

“If you have the phone number, I can do that for you. I’ve finished logging all the intake and boxed up everything for the jobs you have this week. I think that’s pretty much it.”

“Already? Fantastic. I’ll get you the number so you can straighten out this shipping issue. But first, why don’t you take a look at something with me. I’d love your opinion.”

Shannon smiled and jumped up to follow Vivienne to the pile of samples laid out on the large work table on one end of her office.

“I’m working on a bedroom. It’s large—about thirty by twenty. We’re carving out some of the space for a sitting area. The client has completely fallen in love with this very problematic fabric. It’s this paisley with chartreuse, aubergine, and I’m not even sure how to describe that color orange. Horrid, but she ran out and bought yards and yards of the stuff before she hired me. She wanted to cover a loveseat and chairs with it. Luckily, I talked her down to using it as an accent. She’s determined to get her money’s worth. What’s worse, her husband has vetoed every color scheme I’ve proposed. His idea of a pop of color is a taupe pillow, and he’s writing the checks.”

Vivienne handed Shannon a three-foot square swatch that looked like someone had lost their lunch and tried to clean it up with twill.

“How does a beige man end up with a woman who could fall in love with this?” Shannon turned up her nose.

“Second marriage. She’s young and vibrant. Honestly, I see this all the time. Usually, the man indulges his wife and lets her do whatever. He’s not that kind of guy. He has asked me to use the fabric if I can.”

“Really?”

“I think it’s a case of sunk cost. Once you’ve plunked down the money, you make excuses for why that wasn’t a horrible decision.”

“Maybe you can use it in small amounts. Like cording around pillows and a duvet. Maybe make it one side of a throw blanket or—what do you call the thing you put across the foot of the bed?”

“A bed scarf.”

Vivienne tapped the table, puzzled by the vile fabric. Shannon rubbed the sample between her fingers and tossed the fabric on the table, face down.

“You can use the back side too. It’s more muted and less...horrible. In small doses, it’s almost a neutral. From a distance. Maybe a great distance.”

She and Vivienne laughed.

“That’s not a bad idea. Make a dust ruffle, but don’t put it on the bed. Ever. I just need to use enough of it so that he feels good about the expense. Nice, job.”

Shannon blushed. “Thanks.”

“So, did you find a dress to wear to the Magnolia ball?”

“I did. It’s gorgeous. Sapphire blue with beading.” She picked up her phone and scrolled to a picture Jonah took of her in the dress.

“Wow. You’ll look stunning. I have some sapphire earrings that would be perfect. You want to borrow them?”

Shannon blanched. They sounded expensive. What if she lost one? Of course, she had nothing even close to appropriate, and if she said as much, Jonah would probably buy her something else. They fought enough over his buying spree. Borrowing might be the safer choice.

“Sure. If you don’t mind. I’ll take care of them like they were my own.”

“I’ll have them delivered. What time do you work tomorrow?”

“Afternoon shift. I’ll be home in the morning.”

“Perfect.”

Vivienne easily went back to work, but their exchange distracted Shannon. Borrowing jewelry and chatting like friends made her mouth dry and her leg shake compulsively under the table. Shannon pressed with her hand to still it and took a deep breath.

She should be thankful Vivienne supported her relationship with Jonah. From what he said about his parents, she faced an uphill battle with them. Her leg trembled again when she thought of meeting them on Saturday, but she took a deep breath.

They were just people—like everyone she’d ever known—just with more money than all of them combined. No matter what she told herself, Jonah’s parents gave her heart palpitations. She would have to white knuckle her way through it and hope they weren’t as bad as she imagined. Rich people had manners, right? So at least, they wouldn’t be rude to her face.

W
alking
into the elegant ballroom on Jonah’s arm, Shannon turned heads. She kept her chin up and her shoulders back. She knew she looked exactly as she should—even if on the inside she felt like Bambi on the first day of deer hunting season.

When her friend Kim zipped her into the extravagant dress Jonah bought for her, Shannon nearly cried.

“What’s wrong? You look a-mazing!”

“Do you really think I can carry this off?”

Shannon gnawed on her bottom lip, her hands shaking. The dress fit as if it had been made for her. The expert tailors at the boutique delivered the finished product to her house in record time.

Vivienne followed through and couriered over a sparkling pair of pear-shaped sapphire and diamond earrings, displayed beautifully by the upswept hairdo Kim gave her.

“You are carrying it off, right now! Your hair is perfect. Makeup perfect. Don’t ruin your Cinderella moment with craziness. Come on.” Kim led her friend to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her closet door.

Shannon stared at the stranger in the glass, squinting to see evidence of herself in the carefully painted, smoothly coiffed woman looking back at her.

“I can’t believe you blew out every curl in my head. I’ve never seen my hair so straight. It had better not rain.” Shannon pouted.

“If you’re going to keep going to events like this, you should get Jonah to spring for a day at the blow-dry bar. They work miracles with curly hair.”

“I like my curls.”

“Sweetie, so do I. It’s just a special look every once in a while.” Kim spun her around, squeezing her hands. “Enjoy yourself. Promise me. Focus on your hot date. He obviously likes you. Relax. Eat some good food—just make sure you don’t pop the stitches on this fabulous dress.”

Shannon took in the encouragement offered by her friend and promised she wouldn’t Scrooge herself out of having fun.

Standing under the soft lighting of the hotel ballroom with Jonah’s strong fingers entwined in hers, Shannon had to remind herself to breathe.

“You ready? I want to introduce you to my parents.”

“Already?”

Jonah pulled her close and snaked an arm around her waist. His breath tickled the side of her neck as he deposited a peck on her cheek. “Meet them now, and then we’ll escape by telling them we need to circulate.”

Shannon stepped forward in the direction of a tall, handsome older couple. She recognized traces of Vivienne in their mother—the same thin, graceful stature and fine, perfect facial symmetry. Truthfully, Jonah had the same features, only in harder, masculine angles.

Tom stood three or four inches taller than Jonah with a thickness around his chest and shoulders that Shannon didn’t see in either of the Moran children. As she and Jonah approached, the man turned and locked eyes with her. Tiny hairs rose on her arms.

“This must be Shannon.” A white smile stretched across Tom Moran’s face, brittle like fish bones.

“Yes. Mom, Dad, this is Shannon Clifton.”

Sheila Moran’s eyelashes fanned as they took Shannon in.

“Lovely to meet you finally. Jonah has told us nothing but wonderful things.” Shannon found her right hand sealed in the older woman’s two-handed grip.

“It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“Your dress is simply divine. Jonah does have exquisite taste,” Mrs. Moran paused. “In fashion.”

Jonah curled his arm tighter around Shannon. “Shannon chose the dress, Mother. She has a designer’s eye for color.”

“Of course she does. I hear you’ve been working for Vivienne. How do you find it?”

“I love it. I’ve worked mostly as an assistant in the office, but I’m picking up a lot on how Vivienne works with clients, how she pulls together her designs. I’m enjoying it. I can’t thank Jonah enough for connecting me with your daughter.”

The corner of Tom’s mouth curled up. “I’m sure.”

Jonah’s eyes turned shark gray, focused sharply on his father as he spoke. “Vivienne is quite pleased with the work Shannon’s done.”

Sheila smiled so blandly, Shannon couldn’t measure its sincerity. “I’m glad it’s working out for both of you.”

“Thank you. Jonah, weren’t you going to introduce me to some more of your friends?”

Shannon turned into Jonah’s chest, stroking his lapel under her fingertips.

“Absolutely. Plus, I see Nick Halden over there. You know, Nick. We should say hello. We’ll see you two back at the table for dinner.”

Shannon moved away from Jonah’s parents without waiting for him to guide her. Once out of earshot, Jonah leaned into her.

“They’ll warm up eventually.”

Shannon responded with her sweetest smile, but said nothing. She couldn’t get a read on Jonah’s mother, but his father would never like her. She knew contempt. It didn’t dissipate over time. If anything, it concentrated and festered.

G
etting away
from his parents greatly improved Shannon’s mood. They spoke with Nick and his girlfriend, Micky, and, in a corner of the ballroom, stumbled across Vivienne conversing intently with a raven-haired, olive-skinned beauty who laughed wildly at his sister’s jokes. Jonah smirked. His sister wasn’t that funny.

Then, they took a turn through the hallway alongside the main room to peruse the charity auction items.

“How does this work?”

“You put your name and your bid on the sheet and wait to see if someone outbids you. You can go back and forth until the end of the night. Bidding closes at midnight.”

“Do you see anything you like?”

“A few things. What about you?”

Shannon shrugged.

“Let me know if anything strikes your fancy. I’m bidding on the private Mediterranean cruise. A week on a fifty-foot yacht with your own crew. Tell me you wouldn’t love that?”

“I can’t. That sounds amazing. I never thought I’d like a cruise, but if I’m not sandwiched on a boat with ten thousand other people, you could talk me into that.”

“Then, cross your fingers.”

As Shannon laughed, her nose wrinkled adorably, and Jonah’s body tightened. Shannon. A bikini. Feeling her round ass in his hands as he kissed her with the sun setting over the waves of the Mediterranean.

He cleared his throat. “I’m crossing mine double.”

The dinner chimes rang, clearing Jonah’s racy thoughts. He and Shannon headed back into the ballroom and toward their assigned table.

“Jonah, Jonah, Jonah. You and your gorgeous date are the talk of the party. Introduce me.”

Graham Ryan, one of Jonah’s childhood friends, popped up at Jonah’s side, smacking him soundly on the back. Jonah hadn’t seen Graham in several months. Graham had just moved back from Europe about a year ago and settled in Austin.

Normally, Jonah liked the guy, but when the notorious flirt turned his charming grin on Shannon, Jonah grimaced.

“Shannon, this is Graham. We went to school together.”

“Third grade, all the way through college at UT.”

“True. I cringe at the stories he could tell about me.” Jonah shook his head. “This is Shannon Clifton.”

“Great to meet you, Shannon. I do have many, many embarrassing stories about my friend here, but mainly, I’m just amazed at his luck. He always wrangles the best looking lady in the room. It’s not remotely fair.”

“I’ll take the compliment.” Shannon shook Graham’s hand.

“How did you two meet?”

“At a restaurant here in town,” Jonah answered, repeating the story of Shannon’s waitressing career had grown tiresome.

“I wait tables, and Jonah was my best patron,” Shannon added.

Graham raised an eyebrow. “Was? Hopefully, he still is. You can’t stop tipping just because she agrees to go out with you, Moran. You’re not that charming.”

Jonah bristled at the discussion of paying Shannon and glanced at her to see if Graham’s comment had made her uncomfortable. She kept smiling and even laughed, which rankled him.

“Jonah remains one of the best customers at the Scarlet Maple—even though I now have to be nice to him outside of business hours.”

“Good for both of you. Listen, we should get together sometime for a double date.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve tricked some poor woman into dating you?” Jonah feigned immense surprise.

“Ha. Sadly, not at the moment, but I can rustle up a lady when I need to. We should catch up before I head back to Austin.”

The dinner chimes sounded again.

“We should do that, but I think we’re supposed to be sitting down. Let’s catch up after dinner.”

“Of course. If I don’t see you again, have a lovely rest of your evening, Shannon.”

“Thank you.”

They made their way back to the Moran table and sat down. Shannon couldn’t stop smiling.

“I like him.”

“He’s very friendly.” Jonah grabbed the napkin folded from his plate, snapping it open and dropping it in his lap.

“He was really nice. Wait, are you jealous?” Shannon smiled even wider.

“Of course not.”

“You are.”

Jonah pouted in response to Shannon’s amusement. “You don’t have to enjoy it.”

“You’re right. I don’t have to.” She leaned over and kissed Jonah on the cheek, laughing again.

Jonah relaxed back into his chair, trying to let go of his absurd envy. He looked around for his parents, spotting his mother huddled together with an all-too-familiar light-brown head.

Jonah’s ex-girlfriend, Emily, gazed up at his mother wide-eyed. He rolled his eyes. Emily was always wide-eyed. She had the nervous constitution of a squirrel. When she turned her head quickly toward their table, her fluffy, jewel-wrapped ponytail whipped behind her. He couldn’t imagine how his ex commanded a classroom—even one of only seven-year-olds.

“Who is your mother talking to?”

“That is my ex-girlfriend, Emily.”

“She’s pretty.”

Jonah placed his hand on hers and leaned closer to her, whispering. “She’s my ex for a reason.”

“I guess I shouldn’t give you a hard time about jealousy, should I?” Shannon asked, tipping her head toward his.

“We’re even. But there’s no reason for you to be jealous of Emily. Trust me.”

“Okay.” Shannon sighed, twisting her brow. “They’re coming over.”

Sheila had her arm around Emily’s shoulders as they came near the table. “I’ll see you after dinner, dear.”

“Sure. I enjoyed our chat as always, Mrs. Moran,” Emily gushed. “Hello, Jonah.”

His tawny-haired ex-girlfriend tossed a look at the blonde next to him, her top lip caught between her teeth.

“How are you, Emily?” Jonah asked, still gripping Shannon’s hand.

“Fantastic, thanks.” She straightened in her frothy gown, which had the look of a first communion dress except for the tint of pale pink.

“Emily was telling me that she started a new job, teaching second grade at Griffin Academy.”

“I thought you liked public school. You used to say you loved working with different types of kids.”

“I did. Er, I still do. The opportunity landed on my doorstep. One of the teachers I used to work with finished her doctorate in education and started as the principal there. Plus, I’m teaching slightly older kids, which I like.”

“No more kindergarten?”

“Nope.”

Shannon cleared her throat. “Griffin Academy? My daughter goes there. She’s in the second grade. Her teacher’s name is Ms. Sawyer, I think.”

Jonah tried not to groan out loud as a spark of recognition lit up in Emily’s eyes.

“Oh, what’s her name? I don’t remember seeing you at our open house.”

“Olivia McConnell. My ex-husband Jeff went with his wife. Unfortunately, I had to work.”

Something in Shannon’s tone told Jonah that she wasn’t exactly telling the truth, but he wouldn’t embarrass her by asking about it now.

“Oh, my goodness, Olivia. She’s quite the talker, very smart. She’s one of my classroom leaders. A lot of charisma, that one. The other kids follow her like the Pied Piper.”

Shannon chuckled. “That’s my Olivia.”

Emily examined Shannon with a squint. “You know, I can see the resemblance. Except Olivia has all those beautiful curls.”

“So do I, normally.” Shannon reached up and smoothed the side of her up-do.

“Well, it’s wonderful to meet you. I’ll have to tell Olivia that I saw her mother. She’ll be thrilled. Good to see you, Jonah. Mrs. Moran, we’ll talk later.”

Jonah watched Emily float out of earshot in a cloud of tulle. “That’s quite a coincidence.”

“It is. Now I wish I’d been able to go to the meet-the-teacher thing.”

“What happened?”

“It was the night after my run in with my…Kid. Jeff and I decided that it would be better if I didn’t go until we knew if Kid was following me.”

Shannon looked less convinced of the idea than her words suggested. Jeff appeared to call the shots when it came to Shannon and Olivia. He liked Jeff—getting to know him through Nick—but how long would Shannon have to pay for her old mistakes?

All the more reason, Jonah thought, for him to do anything he could to help Shannon accomplish what she wanted in life. When she talked about her daughter, a completely different light shone in her eyes. She deserved the chance to be more of a mother.

“Jonah mentioned that you had an incident with your ex-husband. That must be a different ex-husband from the one with whom you have a daughter, correct?” Jonah’s mother narrowed her eyes as she spoke.

“Yes. Jeff was my first husband. We were really young when we got together.”

“And then, you got married again? All before you were thirty. To think of how hard I tried to get your sister down the aisle once before age thirty.”

“There are other reasons that didn’t happen, Mother. But, hey, with the Supreme Court ruling, you may get your wedding yet. Maybe before Vivienne is forty.”

“Besides,” Shannon interjected. “I didn’t quite get my last marriage in before I turned thirty. So, no gold medal in early marriage for me.”

Jonah snickered and draped his arm around the back of Shannon’s chair. Good for her. His parents had no room to judge anyone’s morality.

“I don’t see what’s so amusing, Jonah. Marriage is a serious and sacred thing.”

“Yes. I know. You and Dad are an illustrious example for us all.” Jonah smiled smugly and took a sip from the water glass next to his plate. He winked at his sister Vivienne who’d just approached the table.