Pitch Perfect (13 page)

Mitch knew what he wanted, and in business he went after his goal full speed ahead. But with Nicolina, he wouldn’t push. Mitch fully understood her reluctance to give in to the feelings that were growing stronger each time he came to visit. She had admitted that she had loved with all her heart and had been betrayed much in the same way that he had with his ex-wife Clarisse. Of course, they had discussed that they would both do it all over again because even though the pain had torn them up, it had also resulted in having daughters they both treasured.

Mia . . . the worry of her whereabouts was about to drive him crazy. Tate Carpenter was on her tail, but Mitch’s phone had gone dead during his airplane flight, and he had put it out of his mind since falling into bed with Nicolina. Losing himself in her loving arms was such a blessing. He only hoped he could break down her barriers and convince her to trust in him once and for all.

Mitch thought he should probably check his messages now, but he was reluctant to leave Nicolina’s side just yet. Something was really bothering her, and as much as he promised himself not to push, he didn’t know if he should hold his feelings for her back much longer. Surely, if she knew how much he cared, she would open up and trust him with her worries. He wanted to be there for her in all ways possible. He wanted to tell her that he loved her. Those three little words had been on the tip of his tongue so many times lately, but he never felt the confidence to say them. Rejection from her wasn’t something he could handle, especially right now, and so he managed to hold back . . . but just barely. Mitch was a man who had made millions by being firm and decisive. This fear . . . this damned walking on eggshells was killing him.

Sure, they had complications. Mitch was damned afraid of putting his heart on the line again even after all these years, but he also knew when a risk was well worth taking. And yes, he lived in Chicago and traveled extensively. But he had seen the damage his absence had done to Mia. The older he got, the more he realized that there were things in life that were much more important than money and power.

Mitch ran a hand down his face. Why wait? One thing he knew for sure was that losing Nicolina wasn’t an option. A sigh escaped him, drawing her attention.

Nicolina rolled to her back and faced him. “What’s wrong?”

Mitch gave her a crooked smile and slid a fingertip over her bottom lip. Ah . . . she knew his moods as well as he knew hers. He hesitated, since those three little words were once again tripping over his tongue, but then replied, “I’m worried about my daughter, Mia.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes.” He explained the painful last time he had spoken to her and how she had mistaken his bailing out Hanover Candy for a hostile takeover.

“How could she think such a thing?” Nicolina asked with such sympathy in her tone that it went straight to his heart.

God, it’s good to have someone care.
“I guess it’s the way the one-sided conversation sounded to her.”

“But why would you let her believe the worst?”

He raised one shoulder. “I was trying to make a point. While I wanted to challenge Mia to go out on her own and learn to fend for herself, I sure didn’t think she would take off like she did. And I guess her belief that I could be a coldhearted bastard hurt. I let my emotions get the worst of me.”

She placed a hand on his cheek. “Hey, it happens. I’ve had some knock-down-drag-outs with Bella.” She wrinkled up her nose. “And I can be a tad . . . overbearing. I’m working on that.”

“Ah, I love Mia so much, but I fear I haven’t been such a good father.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mitch. Listen, anyone who thinks they are a perfect parent is kidding themselves.”

“I know.” He sighed. “But when Clarisse left me, I was eaten up with anger and let my pride get in the way of my good sense. I should have spent more time with my daughter and less time making pointless money.”

“You love her, and that makes up for lots of mistakes and regrets. We can’t change the past. Concentrate on the future.”

“I just wish I knew where she was,” he said, but he frowned when Nicolina’s eyes widened and she put her hand over her mouth.

“Oh my goodness!”

“Nicolina, sweetheart, what is it?”

“I think I know where your daughter is, Mitch!”

“What?” He came up to a sitting position. “Where?”

“You’re not going to believe it, but right here in Cricket Creek. I think she’s a waitress over at Wine and Diner.”

Mitch shook his head. “You’ve got to be mistaken. Mia . . . a waitress?”

“I only saw her in passing as I entered Wine and Diner, but when I asked, Bella said she was new and her name was Mia. I thought it might be her, but when I found out she was driving an old beat-up car I dismissed the notion.”

Mitch chuckled. “It’s an old Toyota that belonged to my gardener.”

“Well, then, it makes perfect sense.” Nicolina raised her hands. “She was a lovely blonde. Mitch, she has to be your daughter!”

As if on cue, Mitch heard his phone ring over where it was plugged into the charger. “Excuse me, I should get this.”

“Absolutely.”

After a quick kiss on her lips, he pushed up from the bed, hurried over to the dresser, and picked up his cell phone. After glancing at the screen, he looked over at Nicolina. “It’s Tate Carpenter, the detective I hired to tail Mia. We’re about to find out if you’re right.”

When Tate quickly confirmed Nicolina’s suspicion, he gave her a nod. She responded with a thumbs-up. “Stay on her tail, Tate, but don’t let her know it. I’ll keep out of sight here in Cricket Creek until you get here, and then I’ll sneak out of town.” After hanging up, he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Keep this knowledge to yourself, okay? Don’t even let Bella know who Mia really is.”

She reached over and put her hand over his. “My lips are sealed.”

Mitch grinned as relief washed over him. “Wow, my little girl is hanging in there. She already has a job and hasn’t come running home like I said she would.”

“She likes a challenge.” Nicolina chuckled. “I think she’s more like you than you think.”

“I do believe that you’re right.” He nodded and then smiled slowly. “This is going to be interesting.”

11

True Grit

M
IA WOKE UP EVEN BEFORE THE ALARM, AND AFTER A
quick cup of coffee from the Wine and Diner kitchen she jumped into the shower. While the warm water pelted her back, she shaved her legs and then squirted some shampoo into the palm of her hand. As she massaged her scalp, she rehearsed the speech she was going to give Noah Falcon. There was no way on God’s green earth that she was going to let Cam get tossed off the team because of coming to her sorry-ass rescue! She had to grin when she suddenly realized that she was beginning to think and sound like she lived in Cricket Creek. This little town was already growing on her, and she didn’t want to let any of its residents down!

Mia stomped her foot for good measure, sending a splash against the tiled stall and slipping in shampoo suds in the process. “Whoa!” she yelped and caught herself just before falling. Soap got in her eyes, but she turned her face up to the spray and laughed in spite of the sting. In the past few days she had felt just about every emotion, ranging from fear to anger to desire. And while not all of those feelings were what you could call fun, except, well, the desire part, Mia felt more alive and energized than she ever knew possible. While she had only been in Cricket Creek for a few days, her life back in Chicago somehow seemed . . . distant. She actually felt more connected
here
.
Weird,
she thought, while thinking that if she were back home right now, she would most likely still be sleeping in with no real plans for the day other than . . . what?

“Fluff,” Mia said as she reached up to turn off the faucet. She thought about the fact that her days had been filled with shopping, hair and nail appointments, facials, and doing lunch with women who merely picked at their food. They would glare at her pretty much normal appetite, making her feel guilty to the point of putting down her fork. She shook her head. That blue-plate special at Wine and Diner had been pure bliss but would have been met with gasps from her friends. She also acknowledged that she should have had some backbone and should have bucked the socialite system. But she hadn’t.

“Pure fluff and no grit.” It felt great to get up with a sense of purpose this morning, something her life had been sorely lacking.

As Mia squeezed the excess water from her hair, she frowned at the realization that she hadn’t heard anything from people whom she considered close friends. At least she
thought
they were friends, but she supposed she had thought wrong. In the days she had been out of the social loop, not one so-called
friend
had bothered to inquire where she was or what she was doing. Then again, perhaps no one had called because no one even realized that she was gone! “Am I really that meaningless?

“Evidently.” Mia sighed as she pushed back the plastic curtain and stepped out of the shower. Some of that was her fault. While she shopped and traveled with the best of them, nightlife had never been her thing. Pulling all-nighters at clubs coupled with the rest of that scenario simply didn’t appeal to Mia. Part of the reason was that her father had frowned upon it, and the other part was that Mia didn’t see the point of partying until the break of dawn. On top of that, she had seen the results, and rehab wasn’t something she had ever wanted to have to do. She supposed it was also because she’d never wanted to disappoint her father.

Mia sighed again as she leaned over and toweled dry. In truth, if she really thought about it, she had never really felt as if she fit in anywhere. Perhaps that seed of insecurity had been planted in her brain as a child when she had tried to visit her mother and her new family. College had been the closest she had come to a normal existence, but after graduation she had been at loose ends, just floundering around. And romance? Oh, she had dated here and there, but no one had ever set her world on fire. Until her elevator interlude with Cam, she had never felt the mindless passion that made you want to rip your clothes off and make wild, passionate love. Just the thought of his mouth pressed to hers made her feel warm all over. Until now she had thought that the weak-in-the-knees feelings written about in books were simply pure fantasy.

“Well, I was wrong,” Mia admitted as she lifted her head to view herself in the steam-filled mirror. Her hazy reflection represented how she had been living her life . . . fuzzy and disoriented. The only time she had felt any sense of worth was when she was putting together parties for her father’s business clients or serving on a committee for a charity event. She was, in fact, excellent at event planning, but really, what good would those skills serve in the real world? “Okay, I’ll put that thought process into motion later.” At the moment someone needed her, and she wasn’t about to let him down.

With that in mind, Mia wiped a squeaky clear circle in the mirror and shoved her getting-ready routine into high gear. She had learned from her father the importance of arriving early and always being prepared. Luckily, Myra had been willing to have her come in late to work, so all her ducks were in a row. Well, at least so far. Mia made a mental note to buy something nice to repay just some of the kindness Myra had bestowed upon her. Oh, wait, she was broke. Funny, but in the past Mia had tossed money around like confetti or bought gifts as payment for just about everything. Well, those days were over. Mia sighed but then brightened when a sudden thought occurred to her. She would just have to do something sweet for Myra instead, like work extra hours or something. “Well, there!” she said and she smiled at her reflection.

She planned on getting to the baseball complex before ten o’clock, which was when Cam had mentioned he was going to arrive to, well, finally face the music. He had insisted that she didn’t have to plead his case and she had finally given in . . . Well, at least she had pretended to back down and let him “fight his own battle,” as he had put it. What he didn’t know was that she planned to lay the groundwork of forgiveness before he even arrived at the stadium.

Mia blinked at her face in the mirror and said a silent prayer that she was making the right decision and not doing more damage than good. She also hoped that Cam wouldn’t be pissed. “I’m doing the right thing,” she said, but she didn’t sound too convincing. She frowned. “I am!” Mia repeated with firm resolve and then started applying makeup with a quick, light hand. With time of the essence, she went with a simple hairstyle by holding her hair back with a gold clip at the base of her neck. “There,” she said with a nod and then hurried into the bedroom. She slipped on the cream-colored linen suit that she had randomly but thankfully packed and then located the most sensible shoes she could find, since of course she would once again be hoofing it over to the stadium. Luckily, the storm had brought a cool front with it and the walk wouldn’t leave her wilted when she arrived. Other than sitting poolside or working out in her Zumba class, Mia wasn’t used to breaking a sweat, but she had a feeling that was about to become a thing of the past. After this meeting she would have to rush back home and change into her uniform. Waiting tables wasn’t for sissies.

After spraying on a bit of perfume, Mia grabbed her purse and was out the door. As she walked through town toward the river, she marveled at how many people waved and gave her friendly smiles. Shops were beginning to open, and when she passed Grammar’s Bakery, a customer opened the door, bringing the yeasty scent of bread baking mingled with freshly brewed coffee Mia’s way. Her stomach rumbled in dire protest, and although another strong cup of coffee would have hit the spot, she was on a mission and kept on walking. It was harder, however, to pass Violet’s Vintage Clothing, especially when a sale rack was being wheeled out to the sidewalk. She paused and touched a gauzy blouse that was calling her name. “Twelve dollars?”

“And fifty percent off today only,” announced a friendly clerk. Her snow-white curls covered her head like a frothy cap and she had a wide smile enhanced with very red lipstick. Mia guessed her to be in her seventies, but there was vibrancy about the woman that reminded Mia of Betty White—with a southern accent. “The color would complement your lovely blond hair. It’s a bit big, but a wide belt would fix that and would work very nicely with your slim figure.”

“And skinny jeans,” Mia agreed with the enthusiasm of a seasoned shopper. “Oh, and some ballerina flats!”

“Perfect! I have a rack of belts inside the shop if you want to come in.” She extended her hand. “I’m Violet, by the way.”

“I’m Mia.”

She angled her white-capped head. “Very pretty name. It suits you.”

“Thank you, Violet. I just adore your shop!” Mia peeked inside at the racks of clothes and accessories and gave a sigh of longing. “Oh, Violet, I’m in a rush, but I can assure you I will come back and browse!” Of course, browsing was all she could do until she got paid.

“Oh, wonderful. It would be such fun to dress such a beauty! Hurry back, Mia.”

“Oh, you’ll see me again,” Mia promised and then forced her legs to keep on moving. She firmly reminded herself that she was not only broke but owed money, so shopping shouldn’t even be on her radar. Yet further down the street, Hats Galore captured her attention. To her credit, although she slowed her pace, she continued to walk. Then the Book Nook pulled her like a magnet, and she craned her neck and sighed when she spotted shelves crammed with paperbacks. Even as a child Mia had read voraciously. She supposed it was yet another way she had filled her time and escaped into another world while her father traveled. She made a mental note to browse there too as soon as she got the chance.

At the end of the block, a florist shop called Flower Power was so cute that Mia had to grin. She always made sure that her father’s house was filled with freshly cut bouquets, most of them from the Monroes’ own gardens, lovingly cared for by Manny. At that thought she felt a sudden flash of homesickness, but she pushed it aside. When she could afford it, she was going to pop into Flower Power and buy a beautiful bouquet of roses for her apartment.

Over the years, Mia had spent countless hours in high-end department stores up and down the Magnificent Mile in Chicago, armed with credit cards. In fact, she had shopped in exclusive designer shops all over the globe, and yet she always preferred small boutiques much like the ones on Main Street in Cricket Creek. She was unsure why, but then it hit her. It wasn’t just the quaintness of the shops or the unique merchandise.

It was the people.

There was a certain sense of caring here that went beyond trying to sell her something. Here, in this small town, it started with Fred offering to hold her car until she could save the money to get it fixed, and then continued with the chance that Myra had taken on her, including offering her a place to stay. In a cold world where Mia had often felt valued only because of her name and her wealth, Cricket Creek represented a warm welcome and unconditional acceptance.

Like Wine and Diner, much of Main Street looked freshly renovated, and she hoped that the revitalized town was going to make it. It was no secret that family-owned businesses were at risk in a global economy that was ruled by franchises. Mia realized that these people were not only trying to make a living but attempting to save a way of life that was becoming rare. She had witnessed firsthand how hard they worked and hoped with all her heart that the comeback remained a success.

As she approached the baseball stadium, she noticed a newly constructed strip mall that somehow retained the quaintness of the rest of the town. The brick storefronts reminded her of brownstones in Chicago, and when Mia suddenly wondered how much of this her father had a hand in, she stopped in her tracks and put a hand to her chest.

“Wow,” she breathed when it occurred to her that although she had spent his money freely, Mia knew very little about what Mitch Monroe actually did for a living. While she acknowledged that some of that burden fell on her father, Mia had to swallow a hot lump that lodged in her throat. When had she ever taken interest in what he did? Asked questions? She had thrown so many parties and organized events for his clients without even knowing much about them either. And while she had soaked up a lot of business savvy simply by osmosis, how much more could she have learned? Taking an actual interest would have gone a long way, she was certain.

“God, just how shallow am I?” she whispered, but she knew the answer. “About as deep as a puddle,” she muttered. “Wow . . .” She looked out over the wide expanse of the river and inhaled a deep breath to keep from melting into an actual puddle of tears. Although she needed to head into the baseball stadium and track down Noah Falcon, Mia suddenly felt the need to sit down for a moment on the wooden bench overlooking the water.

Mia swallowed and gathered her scattered thoughts. Okay, she knew she wasn’t bitchy like many of the people in her circle of friends. Mia could be moody but didn’t consider herself to be mean. At least she hoped she didn’t come off that way! And she wasn’t wild and didn’t live life in the fast lane like she had witnessed over and over. She sniffed hard and at least gave herself that much. But she was . . . what? For a moment Mia stared out over the river and thought about it. How would she describe herself?

She was always polite to the hired help, and she tipped well. She was
nice
! Oh, and honest. Except for the whole Mia Money charade, Mia tried to be truthful. She hated liars and cheaters. She had seen firsthand what they had done to her father. So what was it? What was she lacking that had created that big gaping hole in her life? Mia couldn’t even put a finger on it at first, and then she had an Oprah
aha
moment that had her sitting up straighter before slumping back down.