will work best for it. Redoing a log home presents a special set of challenges.”
Manny seemed to be studying her. “You’re all right, Chloe.”
“I’m glad you think so, Manny. I’m growing quite fond of you, as well.”
“Quinn pop the question yet?”
Chloe fell back a step. “He told you he was going to?”
“Hell, no. He told me zip. But we been together more than a decade. I got a good idea what’s going on with him, whether he lays it out for me or not.” The two burly moving guys came in with the dining-room table. Manny said, “Through there, boys.” And on they went. Manny lowered his voice for Chloe alone and said, “You haven’t said yes yet, have you?”
Chloe pretended to ponder. “Hmm. Let me see. Would Quinn really want me to answer that?”
Manny chortled out a rough laugh. “Come on. Let me show you the house...”
* * *
The landline was ringing when Chloe got back to her place. It clicked over to her old-school answering machine before she could pick up.
It was her mother. “Sweetheart, we’re home. Walked in the door five minutes ago. Maui was heaven, as always. But it’s nice to be back and I can’t want to see you, find out how you’ve been doing and tell you all about our trip. Call me the minute you get this. Love you...”
Chloe stood by the phone and considered getting it over with, calling her mother back right away. Years of conditioning had her feeling she really ought to call now, that a good daughter could be counted on to keep in contact with the ones she loved.
But as soon as her mother asked her what she’d been up to in the past two weeks, Chloe would be confronted with the question of how much to say.
Ha. As if there was a choice. Monique Hightower was spreading the news about her and Quinn far and wide. One way or another, it wouldn’t be long before her mother got an earful. And it would probably be better if her mother heard it from Chloe.
Better being a relative term, knowing her mother.
Chloe picked up the phone.
And then set it back down again.
Her hand was shaking slightly, and that made her mad.
Why should she live in fear of her own mother? She’d faced Nell Bravo right down and told her that Linda Winchester did not run her life. She’d told Quinn the same thing. She needed to live by her own words.
Chloe turned the ringer off on the kitchen and bedroom phones and turned the volume on the message machine all the way down. Then she switched the sound off on her cell, as well. She’d check to see who’d called her at her convenience, thank you very much.
And she would get in touch with her mother later, after she’d had a little time to decide exactly what she wanted to say to her.
* * *
The evening went by—a goodly portion of it spent joyfully in Quinn’s strong arms. After he left, she had trouble falling asleep. She couldn’t stop stewing over what to tell her mom.
Somehow, in the morning, she slept through her alarm. That left her rushing to get ready and out the door in time to get the showroom opened by nine.
Her mother called the showroom number at ten. “Sweetheart, there you are!”
Chloe still wasn’t ready to deal with her. “Mom. Glad you’re home safe. Can’t talk now. You know that. I’m at work.”
“But how am I supposed to get hold of you if you won’t answer your—?”
“Mom, I have another call,” she outright lied. “I’ll call you this evening, I promise.”
“But—”
“Gotta go. I’ll call. Promise.”
Her mother was still protesting as Chloe hung up the phone. She knew time was running out. She was going to have to stop being such a coward. All day long, in the back of her mind, she rehearsed the things she would say when she called back that night.
I’ve been seeing Quinn Bravo. I care for him, Mom. Deeply. He’s asked me to marry him and I am seriously considering telling him yes.
It all sounded so simple. It was...what people did. They found each other and they fell for each other and realized they didn’t want to be apart. So they got married and raised a family.
Why shouldn’t she have that—and with the right man this time? With a good man, a strong man. A man who cared about more than money and power and things. A man who considered her a whole person, with a heart and mind of her own, not just his most prized possession who looked good on his arm and had great taste and could work a room with the best of them.
Short answer: she absolutely should have that. And she would have it. With Quinn.
By the time she locked up the showroom and went home, she was all fired up to get it over with. To call her mother and tell her simply and proudly that she and Quinn were together.
But as it turned out, no call was necessary. When she pulled into her driveway, her mother’s Mercedes SUV was parked in the side space next to the garage.
Chloe’s stomach lurched at the sight, which was so pitiful it made her want to throw her head back and scream. But she didn’t scream. She drew in a slow breath and told herself to man up. It was her life and she was going to live it for herself, not her mother. She would tell her mom the simple truth about her and Quinn and that would be that.
But then, as she left the garage by the breezeway door and caught sight of her mother waiting on the front step, it became crystal clear from the tight, furious expression on Linda Winchester’s face that she already knew about Quinn.
Chloe’s steps faltered. Only for a second, though. She quickly caught herself, straightened her shoulders and kept right on walking. “Mom. I don’t remember you mentioning that you would be dropping by.”
“Oh, please.” Her mother gave her a truly withering glance. “Let me in. I have a few things to say to you and I’m not going to say them on your front step.”
Chloe froze with her key raised to unlock the door. “Look, Mother. I don’t want to—”
“Open the door. Now, please.”
The temptation was so powerful to tell her mother right then and there that this was her house and she would decide who did or didn’t enter it.
But then again, well, Linda Winchester wasn’t the only one who had a few things to say. And she wasn’t the only one who preferred to have this out in private.
So she unlocked the door. Her mother brushed past her as she disarmed the alarm.
Carefully, quietly, Chloe shut the door. Her mother stood beside the formal dining table, her blond head high, bright spots of color flaming on her cheeks, her lips bloodless with tension.
Chloe almost felt sorry for her. “Look, Mom. Why don’t you sit down?”
Linda whipped out the chair at the end of the table and sat in it. She put her hand to her mouth and shut her eyes.
Chloe took the nearest chair. She waited until her mother dropped her hand away from her mouth and opened her eyes again before she said gently, “You’re obviously very upset. Please tell me why.”
Her mother sucked in a gasp and snapped, “Don’t you play coy with me, Chloe.”
“I’m not playing coy,” Chloe said with a calm that surprised her. “What I’m doing is trying my best not to jump to conclusions.”
“All right.” With two sharp tugs, Linda straightened the sides of the linen jacket she wore. “Agnes Oldfield dropped by to see