Chapter Eight

“Lord, I forgot how delicious meals at the Everrett house are.” Sitting on the sofa overlooking the yard, Jim, Lexie’s husband, took in a forkful of coconut rice and, for emphasis, moaned with delight. John couldn’t imagine not remembering his hostess was a phenomenal cook.

And apparently, from the have-you-lost-your-mind look Lexie shot her husband, she agreed. “How could you possibly forget?”

“I remembered. I just didn’t remember.”

“Oh, yeah.” Lexie rolled her eyes. “That explains it.”

The room erupted in laughter again. For the last hour, as plates were refilled, stories had abounded between mouthfuls that reminded him of his own family escapades. A few of the navy stories almost made him wish he’d re-upped. But he’d always known he wasn’t suited to be a grunt.

“Hey.” Billy pushed to his feet. “I’m supposed to have Forrest back at the Delucas’ in fifteen minutes. Maggie’s flight is arriving from Honolulu, and Annette wants him to go along to surprise her.”

“I can take a cab,” John quickly offered. He hated dealing with traffic in big cities. Living in L.A., taxis and drivers had become a way of life for him.

Every head in the room turned his way. Maile’s quick glare clearly said how dare you, before her sweet smile overshadowed it.

“I can,” he offered more sheepishly. Now wasn’t that a sight his crew would have enjoyed? CEO of FJM Global retreating from a Hawaiian grandmother.

“That won’t be necessary.” Maile gave him a reassuring, yet authoritative grin. “My son will take you home.”

“Actually”—Billy glanced at his wrist—”can you take him, Nick? I didn’t realize the time. I’ve got a meeting at the shop in thirty, and I’ll never make it if I have to go the opposite way first.”

Nick looked at his wife, who glanced down at the sleeping baby, and, at that moment, Ava spoke up. “I’ll take him.”

John wasn’t completely sure, but it struck him that Maile Everrett was none too pleased by her daughter’s offer to chauffeur him home, but he was a fast learner and already knew better than to breathe the word cab again. “If I understand correctly, we’re between the airport and the Delucas?”

Billy and Nick nodded.

“Then maybe Annette could pick me up on the way?”

Ava shook her head at her brother and turned to John. “Don’t you want to wash up after the—”

“That’s a wonderful idea.” Cutting off her daughter, Maile rubbed her hands together. “As a matter of fact, Forrest can ride to the shop with Billy, and then Annette won’t lose so much time stopping here first.”

Billy nodded; Nick shrugged, and Ava stared at her mother.

“If you’d like to go home and change clothes, Lexie and I will be glad to take you,” Jim addressed him but looked to Maile. Forrest almost laughed. That woman ruled the roost with an iron smile.

Even though Billy’s mother didn’t seem to have a problem with the new plan, John quickly decided that, if he was going to win over this woman, doing things her way was in his best interest. Not that he was all that sure why he needed to win her over, but his instincts had never let him down. “I’d be glad to ride with Billy, if it’s okay with Annette.”

Billy put in a fast call to Maggie’s boss and got her approval of the new plan. A few thanks were exchanged for Maile’s wonderful lunch, along with hugs and coos for the once again sleeping baby, and, within minutes, John was strapped into the front seat of Billy’s car.

“That was some lunch your mom made.”

“She loves to cook. And she’s good at it too. Not just native dishes but everything. That woman makes a chicken cutlet parmesan that melts in your mouth.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

They’d made it several blocks before reaching the first red light. The car at a full stop, Billy turned in his direction. “Not that it’s any of my business, but, by any chance, are you wanted by the ASPCA for animal cruelty?”

Startled by the question, John merely shook his head.

“Just get released from prison?”

“No.” Billy’s tone was light, but the questions were unsettling.

“Got any good idea why my mother, the matchmaker, doesn’t want you alone with my sister?”

So he hadn’t been the only one to get that impression. John silently shook his head. There was nothing for the mama bear to worry about. He wasn’t looking for permanent. And no matter how tempting the visions of getting up close and very personal with her daughter were, no way was he doing temporary with one of his big sister’s friends.

Billy blew out a deep sigh and hefted one shoulder. “Maybe I’m reading too much into it.”

The light turned green, and the car lurched forward. John considered how to answer that and determined he’d only succeed in digging himself into a deeper hole. Whatever the problem was, he’d figure it out. And right now, dropping chaff seemed the best way to move forward. “Your sister is one heck of an architect.”

Billy’s face lit up. “We’re pretty proud of her.”

“What does she design, when she’s not tinkering with projects for the fun of it?” That idea still boggled him. It had been too long since he’d done anything that didn’t have the right profit ratio attached.

“Not much. She got a bum deal with her previous employer in Honolulu, so she packed up and came home.”

He had to be missing something. The woman he’d watched didn’t seem like the kind to come crawling home with her tail between her legs.

“Mom did everything short of put her head in an oven to keep Ava from opening up shop in San Francisco.”

So she didn’t come home to lick her wounds. That made more sense. “What’s in San Francisco?”

“My sister Kathleen. And that design you saw her doodling is for an aquarium somewhere in the Bay Area.”

“Really?” He’d wondered what project she’d heard about but wasn’t arrogant enough to think that his aquarium project was the only one slated to be built anywhere in the world. That tingling sensation that overcame him whenever good things were falling into place had already started skittering up his spine. He had a feeling coming to Hawaii may have been the best thing to happen to him in a long time. A very long time.

* * *

“Care to tell me what that was all about?” Carrying a handful of dirty dishes, Ava followed her mother into the kitchen.

“What, dear?”

Oh, how she hated it when her mother played coy. The woman was beyond any doubt one of the sweetest, most caring human beings Ava had ever known. Her mom didn’t like to play matchmaker and mediator to be nosy, but because she really wanted to see everyone happy. Still coy didn’t suit her. “You know what I mean. Not letting me drive Maggie’s brother home.”

Maile stopped in her tracks. “Let you?”

Indignation her mother wore very well.

Stepping around her mom, Ava set the dishes on the counter and sucked in a deep breath. They were bound to disagree about something and now was as good a time as any. “You made it pretty clear you didn’t want me driving him back to the Delucas’ house, and I want to know why.”

Her mom’s brows crinkled, forming multiple ridges. “Do you think he thought that too?”

Now Ava felt bad. Deep down she knew, whatever her mom’s quirky thought process was, offending her guest was nowhere on the agenda. “Probably not, but I’m sure Billy and maybe Nick noticed.”

“Well”—Maile straightened her shoulders—”there was nothing to notice. I just hope he didn’t misunderstand my concern for Annette’s schedule, like you and your brother.”

“Misunderstand? Mom you couldn’t have been any less subtle.” Before she could put another thought together, her cell phone rang, and, without thinking, she picked up.

“Ava, how good to hear your voice.” Brad Cummings, from her former office, was on the other line. She wanted to gag.

“Hello.” Mentally drawing a picture of herself with tape across her lips, she silently repeated to herself, if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.

“I’m really sorry about how things turned out. I mean, we all agreed you deserved to be chief architect on the Sacramento project.”

She put her hand over the phone and mouthed excuse me to her mother. Safely in her office and out of earshot, she closed the door and dropped into the seat by her drafting table. A pencil in her hand always kept her calm—and restrained from spewing out exactly what she thought of the man holding the job she rightfully deserved.

“What brings about this call?” She was damn sure he wasn’t calling six weeks down the road to apologize.

“Thought is would be nice to catch up. Find out how you’re settling in. Shoot the breeze.”

Shoot the breeze. Ava actually pulled her phone from her ear and stared at it for a brief moment before answering. “I’m settling in nicely.” Scribbling on a blank sheet of paper, she waited for the man to say something else or hang up.

“I, uh…that is, we…er…”

She was pretty sure the whooshing sound on the other end was her former associate sucking in a lungful of air.

“There’s a problem on the project.”

Did it make her a really horrible person that the bad news had her grinning from ear to ear?

“The city inspectors asked for a few minor changes that the team was able to handle without any issue, but, during the delay, some muckety-muck donated part of his collection of prized outdoor trash sculptures, and they need an additional four thousand square feet.”

“Okay,” she answered automatically, drawing smiley faces on the sheet of paper.

“Which means, either cut down the size of the museum or some of the adjacent buildings.”

“Uh-huh,” she muttered, turning the smiley faces into sculptures in a memorial garden.

“The easiest thing seemed to be to remove the storefronts to the east.”

Ava stopped and stared at the wall in front of her. Were they that totally stupid? Did they really think any developer would give up the bread and butter of retail income?

“So Terry and Dave did a little tweaking and scaled down the other designs, until they had five thousand square feet of garden space.”

As he spoke, she easily sketched in the small dinner theater to one side of the original proposed garden. Turning the angles, shifting the depth, moving the path, visions of a bigger, more relaxing park came to life, beside a sleek, more streamlined theater.

“Are you still there?”

“Uh-huh.” Though she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t just hung up on the asshole.

“Stanley won’t give you a call, after the way you insulted him in front of the entire office.”

That made her stop and look up again. The man was most likely none too happy to have been buried under a hundred bags of coffee either.

“But we need you. I’ll find a way to smooth it all out, but—”

So the cats were sucking up to the mouse after all. “I’m sorry, Brad, but I’ve got my hands full with my own projects here. You and Stanley are going to have to figure this one out on your own. It shouldn’t be a problem for a brilliant and innovative architect such as yourself. Give my regards to Sheila.”

Hitting the little red button to disconnect the call, Ava set the phone on the table beside her new sketches. Damn she would have loved to present these to the museum developers. With every stuttered word her former associate had stammered, the new ideas flowed to her like a river to an estuary. But she was not going back. Stanley Smythe could offer her the title of chief architect on every project from now till the next millennium, and she wouldn’t go back. Fool her once, shame on him. Fool her twice, shame on her. Nope, these new museum designs were destined to be for her viewing pleasure only.