Tapestry of Trust (19 page)

Ridiculous.
He snorted. Isabelle probably wasn’t giving him a second thought. She was strong and resilient. Unlike him. His insides felt like a puddle of mush at the moment.

He raked his hands through his hair, anxious to get a grip on his life. Here he was, a grown man, acting like a lovesick teen. Well, that stopped right now. He grabbed his keys and headed for the door. Time to get out of the house and get some air.

The sun felt warm on his back as he strode along the open corridor. Glancing over the railing he caught a glimpse of a mother pushing a baby stroller down the sidewalk. Not an unusual sight. In fact, most of his neighbors had young children. Today he couldn’t help but slow his steps and watch as the young woman pointed to a Canadian goose taking refuge on the lawn. The baby cried out, and the bird took flight.

Charlie felt a tug inside his heart as he heard the mother laugh. He wondered about Isabelle. Had she had the chance to smile at their baby? Hug him to her chest? Had his son missed his father’s touch? At the thought, tears clogged his throat. Swallowing them back, he picked up walking again.

Five minutes later he rapped on Isabelle’s door. Whether she liked it or not, they needed to talk, more now than ever.

The door swung open, and Kate stepped onto the brick threshold.

“Hi. I was checking in on—”

“She isn’t home.” Kate’s jumped in coldly.

Charlie hesitated a moment, studying Kate’s stony expression. He wondered what Isabelle had told her. “I noticed that Isabelle’s car—”

He stopped, feeling a thump against his legs. He dropped his gaze and found Humphrey weaving between his ankles. “Hey, I could have stepped on you.” He snagged up the cat.

The cat bellowed a feisty meow.

Kate snatched the cat from him. “I wish this little hairball understood curiosity can kill.” She whirled around and stalked back into the living room, leaving the door standing open.

Right in front of him, on the entry-table, Charlie noticed several vases of flowers. At least he knew Isabelle had received them. Even better, she hadn’t thrown them out.

Kate came back to the door. “I’ll tell Isabelle you stopped by.”

“Do you know when she’ll be home?”

Kate only shrugged.

He scratched his head. “How about giving me her cell number?”

“No.”

Cold and firm. Great. “Kate, I—”

“Charlie.” Kate shot up her hand. “I don’t want to get involved, but I will say I wish you guys would make amends. Isabelle has been miserable since you showed up.”

Miserable?
Charlie didn’t know how to take that. “Where is she, Kate?”

Kate opened her mouth, stopped, and shook her head. “Charlie, I don’t want to get—”

“Please, Kate.” He spread his arms. “I’m not a stalker. I love Isabelle.”

Kate's tense posture softened then. “Denton. She left last Thursday.”

“Denton?” Charlie echoed, baffled. He stared at her. “Is she visiting her aunt?”

Kate hesitated then nodded.

“Really.” Charlie cocked his head, pondering her motives. “A last minute visit?”

“Yes. Last minute.”

“Good.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“She’s looking for the truth. That’s good.” His hopes lifted.

Kate’s brow furrowed. “Or painful. If she finds out her aunt betrayed her.”

Despair crowded Charlie’s heart and he nodded. “I know.” Isabelle needed to know the truth. He wished he could have been there to temper the pain.

“She’s going to need some time, Charlie.”

Charlie started to disagree then he stopped. As much as he hated it, Kate was right.

****

“What happened to all the food?” Isabelle demanded of Kate as she rummaged through the half empty pantry.

“Remember, I told you I straightened up this weekend? I tossed everything out that was open. No telling how long it’s been there.”

True. The apartment probably needed a good spring cleaning, but why did Kate have to start in the kitchen? Especially when she didn’t cook. Isabelle rose on her tiptoes to scan the upper shelves. “You even threw out the pasta?”

“Just the open boxes.”

Which would be all of them.
Isabelle snatched a box of cereal from the top shelf. Cocoa Crunchies. Something Kate bought and probably didn’t eat because it contained a zillion calories. Sighing, Isabelle pulled a bowl from the cabinet. Nutritious or not, this was dinner.

She stopped, glared at Kate, cereal box hovering over the bowl. “You didn’t throw out the milk, did you?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Who keeps milk in the pantry?”

Good. At least the refrigerator contents remained intact.

The three-and-a-half hour drive that had turned into five due to an accident outside of Dallas nearly did Isabelle in. Exhausted and famished, even cereal tasted good. She leaned against the counter, crossed one ankle over the other, savoring each bite.

Kate, perched on a kitchen stool, lifted her eyebrows. “Now that you know the truth, what’s next?”

Ignoring the question, Isabelle took another bite and closed her eyes, not from fatigue or to relish the chocolate flavoring, but because she didn’t like the look on her roommate’s face or the way she bobbed in her seat as if waiting for the closing scene of a thriller.

“Isabelle, are you listening to me?”

Unfortunately.
Isabelle swallowed. “I heard you.” And she didn’t like the direction the conversation headed. “Let’s see, what’s next? How about, I’ll stop living in the past, fall back into my old routine? Relax. Enjoy life.” That should do it.

“What about Charlie?”

“What about him?” Isabelle spooned another bite of cereal.

“Come on, Isabelle. You said yourself: he didn’t desert you. You know he cares about you, and you still care about him. Why not give it another chance?”

Isabelle lowered the spoon without taking a bite. “Nope. Like the old saying goes ‘been there, done that.’” She shook her head. “Getting hurt again doesn’t interest me.”

Kate fussed on, reminding Isabelle that people do change, and she needed to forgive him, learn to trust again.

Isabelle swallowed her bite. “I’ve forgiven Charlie and my aunt. Even myself. But trust? Now, that’s a different story.”

“Well, if nothing else, you should ask Charlie to forgive you.”

Isabelle let her jaw drop. “Forgive me? For what?”

“How about not believing him. Or, even better, for not letting him know where you went when you left Denton.”

Isabelle whirled and shook her head at Kate. “Hardly, noteworthy. Charlie freaked, didn’t call, and I wasn’t about to chase him. ”

“People make mistakes, Isabelle.”

With a grunt, Isabelle rinsed the rest of the cereal down the drain.

“Isabelle.”

“OK. You’re probably right. I’ll consider it.”

Propping her feet on the rung of the stool, Kate leaned forward. “Did you notice he sent more flowers?”

As if she could miss them. “Oh, that’s why this place looks like a funeral home.”

“Very funny.” Kate rolled her eyes, but before she could say more, Isabelle jumped in.

“I thought you and Mark were having dinner with his parents tonight.”

“That was last night. And I wish you’d been there. Mark’s mom had the meal catered. She’d ordered Mark’s favorite foods and even threw in a few of mine.” Kate pressed a hand to her stomach. “I’m still full.”

Isabelle chuckled. “Sounds like a feast.”

“Yep. She’s got Mark spoiled.”

Isabelle’s chuckle bumped into a laugh. “You’re going to have to learn to cook.”

Kate crossed her arms and she winked. “I’ve already asked for the caterer’s number.”

What a good pair they made. Mrs. Johnson and Kate. They already thought alike.

Unlike Isabelle and Charlie’s mom, Sharon, who saw life from opposite ends of the spectrum.

Isabelle squashed those thoughts. Sharon or any mother-in-law wasn’t in her future any time soon.

Maybe never.

18

“Hey, Charlie. This just came for you.”

Charlie glanced up from his paperwork and found Brenda in the doorway, waving a manila envelope. “Thanks, you can leave it here.” He gestured toward the only clean spot on his desk.

Crossing the room, Brenda plunked the envelope on top of his paperwork. “Here. Open it now.” So much for doing what he asked.

“All right, since I don’t seem to have much choice.” He picked it up. “Who’s it from anyway.”

“Schuster Pharmaceutical Corp.”

“Really. I didn’t expect to hear from them until after their board meeting next week.” He ripped open the packaging and tugged out the sheets. “Let’s hope my presentation didn’t warrant this quick of a rejection.”

“No, they liked it. In fact, they sent you a contract.”

For all of a second, Charlie glanced over the papers then stared back to Brenda. “How did you know that?”

Brenda cocked an eyebrow. “Sophie, the secretary over at Schuster’s called this morning. She asked whose attention to send it to. With all the rumors flying she wanted to make sure you were still on the payroll. Of course, I set her straight.”

“As long as I can help it, I’ll be here.” Charlie nodded and looked back at the contract. “Why didn’t you tell me they called? You know this is a huge account for the firm.”

“I wanted to see the look on your face when you saw it.”

“Really?” Charlie chuckled. “Then why did you blast the news right before I opened the envelope?”

“I couldn’t wait. But you are surprised? Right?”

“Yes, of course, I am.” He breezed over the contract. The terms appeared in order. Schuster Corp hadn’t even balked at the price. Everything looked good.

“And happy?”

“Sure,” he muttered. Then he caught Brenda’s tight-lipped expression. She didn’t believe him. He forced a smile.

Normally, he would have been ecstatic, pumped at the fact he’d secured a contract with a company the firm had courted for years. Deals like this one didn’t occur every day, and although he was thankful his boss entrusted him with such a big account, he actually felt rather numb—about everything these days.

Recent happenings at the office hadn’t improved his sagging spirits. Over the last few days Mr. Huss had treated him differently, in fact, rather suspiciously. The embezzlement scheme was all Charlie could figure. Unless Erica had turned her father against him.

Making good on her promise to make his life miserable.

As if he wasn’t miserable enough already.

Charlie cleared his voice. Even thinking about all the
what ifs
made his head hurt.

“You don’t seem very happy.”

He’d figured as much. “I’m happy. Just tired. ”

“Well, you should be happy. Big bonus from the Schuster account.”

Charlie nodded. “Yes. That will be a blessing.”

“Glad to hear that. I was beginning to wonder about you.” Brenda cast a fleeting peek over her shoulder then raised an eyebrow at him. “So what’s cook’n’ between you and Miss Isabellita?”

Back to being annoyed, Charlie tipped back in his seat and shook his head.

Brenda’s eyes rounded. She pushed a stack of files off a chair, sat down with a plop, and knotted her hands in her lap. “OK. What’d she do? Tell you to get lost or something?”

That would have been easier to take. “Actually, she hasn’t told me anything. I haven’t heard a word from her since we met for coffee over a week ago.” Unless he considered the message she sent him via Mark, thanking him for the flowers. Nah.

“What’s wrong with that girl? Nice guy like you.” Brenda shook her head and scratched her jaw. “If I were you…”

While Brenda rambled, Charlie grabbed his pen and got back to work. If he knew nothing else, he knew he couldn’t change Isabelle’s thinking, and from what he could tell, God didn’t plan to either.

When Brenda paused to breathe, Charlie looked up. “Could you take this to Mr. Huss’s office?” He handed her the contract.

“He already has one. I asked Sophie to send him a copy, too.”

Of course, she had. “Fine job, Brenda.”

“You betcha.”

****

Isabelle walked to her bedroom window and peered into the dusky night. It was time. She’d waited long enough.

Probably too long.

She yanked the blind shut, spun, and grabbed her mug of tea off the desk. Yes, it was getting late, but then again, she hated to barge in on Charlie after he worked all day. He might need time to unwind. Besides, what she had to say wouldn’t take long.

She plopped into her swivel chair and cradled her tea in her hands. Inhaling deeply, she let the piquant aroma of chamomile embrace her.
Soothing?
The box said so. She took another whiff. Nothing soothing about it. She took a sip. Nope. She still felt jittery.

Isabelle blew out a breath, set down her mug, and reached for her mouse. Wiggling it, her computer popped back to life. Three clicks later, she was staring at the thirty-seven e-mails in her inbox. All from her aunt.

In that moment, one thing became perfectly clear—she was headed on the fast track to nowhere. Twenty-four years old and what did her social life consist of? Reading forwarded messages from her aunt.

Pathetic.

Well, not today. She hit delete again and again until every e-mail disappeared, except one, a personal note from her aunt.

I’m glad you arrived safely. I enjoyed our visit. Don’t wait so long next time. Kayla and I chose a taupe wall color. I also took your advice about your grandmother’s furniture. I’m having her old loveseat recovered for my bedroom. I shouldn’t have waited so long to redecorate. Change feels good. Tell Kate hello. All my love, Aunt Myra

Leave it to her aunt to act as if nothing happened. Isabelle started to be annoyed, but then she had to admit, wallowing in the past served no purpose.

Shoving her fingers through her hair, she firmly decided, no more wallowing. “Forget the past.” She chanted. Then the clock on the mantel struck eight.

She needed to get moving, even if Charlie was part of her past. But without closure she could never move forward.