some?”
The little girl crossed her arms across her thin chest, leaned back and glared at them both. She wasn’t going to be easily persuaded. Abby didn’t want to alienate her, but she had to emphasize what she might miss, so she pressed on.
“I know two boys, your cousins, who love bubblegum ice cream. Lots of kids do. You probably would, too,” Abby mused, “if you tried some. Just as you’d like school, if you tried it.”
The dark head gave a very emphatic negative shake.
“Really? You’re sure about that?”
Ariane wasn’t backing down.
“You’re positive? You won’t change your mind and love it later?”
Ariane’s head moved from side to side as her jaw tightened.
“I don’t think that’s true. I think you’re afraid.”
Donovan caught his breath and shifted, but Abby stepped sideways so Ariane couldn’t see him. She kept speaking.
“I think you’re terrified, Ariane. And I don’t like that. You know why?” She waited a moment. “Because being afraid isn’t a good enough reason to miss out on stuff. So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to dare you to go to your first day of school. I’m going to double dare you to go and meet the other kids and the teachers and go to all the classes. What do you think of that?”
It was a gamble that the child would understand the concept of a dare, but it paid off. Clearly Ariane got it. She glared at Abby, but her face showed she was listening. Abby crouched down in front of her and took one hand, folding it into her own.
“I can’t imagine someone who comes to Denver all the way from Paris can possibly be afraid of school. You have schools in Paris, don’t you?”
Ariane nodded.
“And I bet some kids wear uniforms to them, too, don’t they?”
Another nod.
“In fact, you’re pretty experienced and school isn’t such a big deal for you at all.” Abby let the words drop away in the room’s silence watching as Ariane’s shoulders lifted in growing confidence.
Her big brown eyes studied Abby for several moments more. Finally, Ariane pulled her hand from Abby’s, walked over to Donovan and put her tiny hand in his.
“So you’re taking my dare?” Abby kept her face impassive as Ariane nodded. “Okay. So if you’re wrong and you do like school, I win a huge ice cream cone. Butter pecan. And you have to buy it, right?”
Ariane glanced at Donovan and rolled her eyes as if to say “Adults are so lame.”
“Yep, that’s the deal.” Donovan winked at Ariane.
“And if I’m wrong and Ariane doesn’t like the school, I’ll have to buy her a different flavored ice-cream cone for the next four Saturdays. Agreed?”
Donovan nodded, but Ariane’s confidence was clearly wobbling.
Abby faked a frown.
“You know, just to make sure you two don’t try and pull one over on me and pretend you win, I think I better go along and see for myself. Buying so many ice creams could be costly and I don’t want to work any more overtime.”
“Abby, that isn’t necess—”
Ariane grabbed her backpack. The thunderclouds dissipated from her face.
“I don’t believe this.” Donovan shook his head. “Now you’re ready to go?”
She nodded, grinned.
“Never turn down a dare, huh?”
She scribbled I like choc’lat ice cream.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” He sighed, shook his head. “If you’re sure you can spare the time, Abby, let’s go. School starts soon.”
No backing out now. Abby grabbed her purse and followed them after locking her office door. On the ride to the school, she told silly jokes she’d overheard Brett and Brady regale their sister Emily with. That seemed to help Ariane forget the miles for a time.
She glowered when they pulled into the parking lot, but with one little hand firmly embedded in Donovan’s and one in Abby’s, she climbed the stairs, determination written all over her face.
The teacher had been well apprised of Ariane’s situation and used a creative and unusual way to involve the little girl in the class activities. So engrossed did Ariane become that half an hour later, when Donovan tapped her on the shoulder to tell her he’d see her later, she simply fluttered her fingers and went back to work assembling the puzzle she’d been given, although she did spare a big smile for Abby.
“You owe me a double butter pecan.” Abby brushed a hand against the glossy dark hair, then followed Donovan from the room and to the car.
“That went well. Where did you learn to deal with little girls?” he asked as he pulled out of the parking lot. He made it sound as if she inhabited Mars where children weren’t allowed.
“I was one, remember?” Abby frowned. “I had second thoughts about the first day of school, too.”
“What did your parents do to reassure you?”
“Told me about all the lovely science courses I could take.” She deadpanned a look at him. “I chose the painting corner.”
“Were you good at painting?”
“Better at getting paint all over myself. Not a good thing.”
He chuckled at the image she’d created. Silence stretched until her nerves screamed a protest. She had to break it.
“How’s your work going?”
“It’s different than I expected.” Donovan frowned for a minute. “Everyone is so used to the agency’s way of handling our PR that trying to spring new ideas is hard work. But I’ll get there.”
“I’m sure you will. What kind of ideas?”
His face altered as if he hesitated to say what was really on his mind.
“Donovan?” Her stomach clenched. Something was up.
“Grandmother is supposed to be the one to tell you this, but I’m guessing she hasn’t gotten around to it yet.”
“To what?” Her forehead pleated in a frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. She just wants us to work together and come up with a new image for the jewelry department at Woodwards.” He held his breath, hoping Abby wouldn’t flatly decline.
“Work together? Us?” She frowned. “I don’t know anything about marketing.”
“But you know a lot about the jewelry department.”
“True.” Abby had been itching to make changes for ages although there’d been no opportunity to do much with Winifred out sick. “But I’m up to my ears right now. Especially with the contest. I can’t fit another thing into the day.”
“It doesn’t have to take a lot of your time. Maybe you could tell me what you envision and I could come up with something. I’ve already done a survey of our client base. Age, income, all those variables that go into a wedding. I needed the info for the national campaign I’m supposed to get rolling.”
“I see.” This sounded like it would entail a lot of contact with Donovan, something Abby wanted to avoid.
“The thing is,” he paused to turn a corner. “In all our departments, we miss a large demographic. People think of us only as a bridal store or as wedding planners.”
“And Woodwards has more to offer than that.” She nodded, intrigued in