Bittersweet Surrender (3 page)

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Authors: Diann Hunt

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BOOK: Bittersweet Surrender
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Carly's fingers rubbed deeper. She figured a little stimulation would wake Rita up and make her talk.

Nothing.

More rubbing. Carly had to do something quick. Rita was about to slip into a coma.

Spotting a stray eyebrow hair, Carly went for the tweezers. When women came into her domain, she figured she could wax, snip, pluck, rub, pinch, whatever, and there wasn't a thing they could do about it. Unless, of course, they got up and left.

As the offending hair stood at attention, Carly went in like a tailor after a loose thread and plucked it.

“Ow,” Rita wailed, rubbing her forehead with vigor.

“For crying out loud, Rita, I thought you wanted to talk.”

“Remind me next time to pluck before I come in here.” Her forehead creased. “Can't we talk after my facial?” Her eyelids fluttered shut.

Okay, then. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Carly grabbed a steamed towel and lowered it toward Rita's face, pulling an evil grin just before she smothered—er, uh, covered—her sister-in-law's peaceful expression.

“Ouch!” Rita groused. “Okay, you win.”

Carly smiled innocently and peeled away the towel. She tried not to wince when she saw the nasty little red mark where Rita's eyebrow hair had been.

Rita sighed and settled herself. “How are things going with Jake?” she asked with a hint of lingering irritation.

Carly happily ignored Rita's attitude. “Going well.” Wiping the rest of the cleanser from her sister-in-law's face, Carly lifted the towel and started the toner and exfoliation process. “Why do you ask?”

“You made me.” Rita frowned.

Carly pointed at Rita's scowl. “Better not do that, or I'll have to perform some age-defying treatments.”

“I see how it is. You get me mad so I'll make a mess of my face and have to come back.” Rita gave in to a slight chuckle.

“Something like that.” Carly turned the steam toward Rita's face and began kneading her arms and hands, working the mocha oil into her skin. “C. J. still doesn't know about Jake and me, right?”

Though C. J. and Jake had been best friends for years, Carly had asked Jake not to tell C. J. they were corresponding. She just wasn't ready for comments. Besides, it wasn't as though anything could come of it.

“He's clueless.” Rita's words vibrated with the rub.

“Good.” Reaching for another steamed towel, Carly removed the exfoliator. Since Rita had near-perfect skin, Carly was able to skip the extractions and go straight to the facial massage, starting with tiny circles across her forehead.

Rita started to purr. Something told Carly she would get nothing out of her sister-in-law until the facial was over, so she just kept going and let her enjoy. Goodness knew living with her brother, who still thought he was twelve, she most likely needed this time.

Adding more cream, Carly massaged tiny circles under Rita's eyes and around her nose, moving to the chin and then ending with an effleurage movement across the cheeks. By the time she worked on Rita's shoulders, she'd lost her again. Her dainty sister-in-law was snoring like a trucker. Carly removed the cream with another steamed towel.

“All done,” Carly said. Rita gave one last snort before she broke into consciousness. Carly put her things away and started to leave the room.

“Hey, Carly, do you have a second that I could talk to you about something?”

“What is it?”

“Well—” Rita hesitated a moment.

Carly grabbed her hand. “Is something wrong?”

Her sister-in-law shook her head. “It's just that C. J. and I had words this morning over the same old issue.”

“Children?”

Rita nodded and swallowed hard. “Why can't he agree to testing, Carly? Why is he so stubborn?”

“Takes after Dad.” She chuckled. “C. J. has never liked going to doctors.”

“But it would mean so much to me and he knows that.”

“I'm sorry, Rita. He'll come around in time.”

“In time? My biological clock is ticking. We need to get started soon.”

Carly wasn't sure what to say. “You'd be a great mom, that's for sure.” Right now, she wasn't so sure how C. J. would be as a father. He had changed so much.

Seeing Rita's despair, though, Carly agreed to try and help. Though she had no idea how.

At the receptionist's desk, Rita scheduled another appointment and turned to give Carly a tip, which she flatly refused. Rita was reaching for the door when it shoved open and C. J. walked in.

“There are my two best girls.” C. J.'s broad shoulders, towering height, and brown curly hair were impressive, but the impish grin on his face gave him the appearance of an overgrown kid.

“Uh-oh, you must want something,” Carly answered.

He held up his hands. “Nope, nothing.” He tossed a glance at Rita and then looked back to Carly. “Looks like you worked your magic once again, big sister.” He laughed and pointed at a mellow Rita. “After she leaves your place, I can talk her into almost anything.”

“So that's why you send her here.”

He grinned. “Sure is.”

Rita hit him. “I'm not
that
mellow, mister.”

They talked a few minutes. Rita and Carly made plans for lunch next week, and then Rita and C. J. turned to leave. C. J. swiveled back around.

“Oh, I was going to tell Rita and thought you might be interested too.”

Carly's ears perked. “What?”

“Do you remember my old friend, Jake Mitchell? He used to call you ‘Squirt' when you were a kid?”

Carly's pulse stumbled. “Uh, yeah, I think I do remember him.” She avoided eye contact with Rita.

A wide grin covered C. J.'s face, the wattage from his teeth drawing Carly's attention to him like a mosquito to a bug zapper. “He's moving back to Spring Creek.”

two

Jake.

Here.

In one month.

Carly looked down at herself and groaned. History told her in a month's time she couldn't even lose a pound, let alone grow a respectable bosom.

Lord, you see what's going on here, right?

“Are you okay?” Behind Carly, Scott's voice penetrated her foggy brain. Slowly, her eyes focused and she realized C. J. and Rita were gone and she was still standing in the entryway, staring after them. If she had held her arms out, patrons might have used her as a coatrack.

“Oh sure, I'm fine. Just fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine.”

He studied her and she quickly turned toward the office before he could question her. He knew her far too well. Lucky for her, a technician called after him about the clogged sink, and Carly was able to wiggle free from the third degree he was sure to give her.

Closing the office door, she paced. Jake Mitchell was moving back to Spring Creek. Why hadn't he told her? Was he trying to surprise her?

She took a turn around the room. This was her own fault. She never should have sent him that old picture. The one without the extra twenty-five pounds, wrinkles, and cellulite. The one where she still had—oh, what did it matter now?

What's done is done
.

Her footsteps thumped across the hardwood as she wondered what he would think of her now. He went to the gym five times a week. What kind of person did that?

And what was she doing writing to him?

As she reached the opposite wall, the reality of it all came crashing around her and she sucked in air. “What am I going to do?”

“About what?”

Scott's voice startled her, and she whirled around.

His face showed concern. “Carly, what is it?” He crossed the distance between them and grabbed her as she stood in a trancelike state. “Carly?”

She swallowed. “Jake Mitchell is moving back to town.”

He blinked. “Jake Mitchell?” He thought a moment. “Is that the guy C. J. used to hang out with in high school?”

“He's the one.”

“The one you had a crush on?”

“Uh-huh.”

Releasing her, he shrugged and walked over to his desk. “That's it? So what's the big deal?” Picking up his letter opener, he sliced through the top of an envelope.

“We've been e-mailing each other.”

Scott stopped a moment, looked at her, then went back to his envelope, pulling out the contents. “I see.”

Not quite the reaction she was going for. “That's it? That's all you've got to say?”

He sorted through the last of his mail. “What do you want me to say?”

She walked over to her desk, plopped down, and gave him a blank stare. “An offer to help me move to Alaska comes to mind.”

“So what if he's moving back to town. If you've been writing to each other, it seems to me you'd be glad.”

“Shows what you know.” She shoved her chin into her hand and groaned.

“Oh, come on. It can't be that bad.” He continued to sort through paperwork, and she fought the urge to thump his fingers with a ruler. He was obviously missing the seriousness of this situation.

“Twenty-five pounds, Scott, does that mean nothing to you?” Wild horses normally couldn't drag that out of her, but Scott was like a brother—the wise one who always got Ivy and Carly out of the messes in which they often found themselves. “I need help.”

“Oh.” Scott rubbed thoughtfully at the stubble on his face. “You're being too hard on yourself.”

“Don't give me the you-look-fine-the-way-you-are speech. I have to lose weight.”

“It's the chocolate.”

“Huh?”

“You need to stay away from chocolate.”

Horror ripped through her veins at the very idea. “Yeah, like that's gonna happen.”

He calmly walked over and slid open the bottom drawer of her desk. The candy drawer. The space with an assortment of chocolate, from little round candies to expensive truffles. As he reached inside, Carly's hand clamped onto his arm in a deadly vise.

“Don't do it, Scott.”

His fingers continued to reach for the chocolate.

“Never. Ever. Come between a woman and her chocolate,” she said through clenched teeth.

No doubt the icy tone of her voice was what made Scott's eyes bulge. “Just as I thought. You're not ready.” He shook her loose, shoved the drawer closed, and walked back to his desk.

“What was that all about?” How dare he get her all worked up like that and just walk away.

“When you're ready to give up the chocolate, I'll know you're serious about the weight.”

“Chocolate is my life.”

“Like I said.”

“Oh, so you're going Dr. Phil on me?”

Settling back into his seat, he steepled his fingers together and stared at her. “You want my help. I'll help you. From this point forward, you can count on losing weight. If that's what you truly want.”

Something about the way he said that made her feel she was standing in a long, cold hallway and huge steel double doors had just closed—doors that led to Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. She'd had that same nightmare as a kid.

It was in that moment, as she sat there pondering her place in a universe without chocolate, that Magnolia appeared.

With suitcases in hand.

“If you're sure you don't mind, dear,” she said, bumping her luggage against the door frame as she stumbled through. “The movers will be here tomorrow.” The sweetest of smiles curled her wrinkled lips upward. She dropped her suitcases at her side and brushed her hands together. “Now, which room is mine?”

“See y'all later,” Scott heard a woman say
as he stepped out of his office. The black-haired beauty was walking forward but looking behind, so she didn't see Scott with his hefty file. She plowed straight into him, scattering papers everywhere.

“Oh, my goodness! I'm so sorry,” she said, bending to help him pick up the papers while her gaze stayed fixed on him.

Scott coughed. When was the last time he had been close enough to a woman to smell her perfume? “No, no, it was entirely my fault,” he rambled, stuffing papers in the file as quickly as possible. He was thankful Magnolia and Carly had gone upstairs and missed his run-in with the customer.

They both reached for the same paper and her soft fingers fell upon his. When he looked up, she was smiling. He gulped. “Well, I think that's all,” he said, sliding the last piece into his file and standing.

The woman joined him.

“Scott, they need you in the—” Amber stopped when she saw the woman. “Oh, I'm sorry, Melissa, I didn't mean to interrupt.”

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