Cari Lynn - The Charm Offensive

Ella shook her head. “Only on special occasions. I don’t want to inconvenience her.”

The sincerity in Ella’s tone and seriousness in the firm set of her mouth ripped through Sophie’s heart. Ella had feared being an inconvenience ever since she’d overheard a conversation between Sophie and her older sister, who was also Ella’s mother. The little girl hadn’t needed supersensitive hearing skills during that particular morning. Sophie had dragged Tessa into the shower, fully clothed, after her sister’s two-day-long binge of drinking and drugs. Even through the hair pulling, kicking and continued resistance, Tessa had never ceased ranting about the inconvenience of family. The inconvenience of parenting. The inconvenience of children.

Sophie rubbed behind her ear. Her hair had grown back, yet the memory still lingered in vivid color. But the imprint on a young, innocent child was the deepest wound, and that unseen scar remained. No matter how often Sophie tried to prove to Ella she wasn’t an inconvenience or encourage her to leave out that word from her vocabulary, she hadn’t succeeded. But she’d never stop trying.

Sophie hugged Ella. “Okay. Ruthie, while you braid, April can give you tips on how to use the cash register.”

Ruthie groaned. “But you told me I wouldn’t need to run that ancient thing.”

“It’ll be fine.” Sophie pushed confidence into her voice. Her friend was a brilliant PhD, but far from tech savvy. “The cash register is vintage, that’s all.”

“And temperamental and finicky,” April added.

Sophie plowed on. “We might not have any customers this morning. So this is just in case.”

“It’s Friday. The bell chimes at least eighteen times on Friday mornings,” Ella said, and nodded, authority lacing her matter-of-fact tone. “I counted when I was home sick a few weeks ago.”

“That was a rare day,” Sophie lied.

“Auntie, you told me it was slower than usual that day.” Ella frowned.

Sophie kissed her niece’s cheek to distract her. “You stand still and get braided. I’m putting a load of laundry into the washing machine and checking on Troy. Then we’ll walk to school. April, you have twenty minutes to talk Ruthie through things and then you’re off, too.”

“Are the babies coming?” Excitement lifted Ella’s voice into a breathless pitch.

“Not today.” Relief poured into Sophie’s words as she rushed through the back door. Delivering twins couldn’t be on today’s to-do list.

“I’ll be here later this morning if Ruthie has any trouble,” Brad called from the front of the store.

Sophie shook the smile off her face. That she liked the idea of Brad being here poked at her conscience; she’d buried these kinds of feelings so deeply inside her, so long ago, she’d assumed they’d be lost forever.

Sophie returned to the group and touched Ella’s shoulder. “Brad rescued a litter of kittens this morning and he’s agreed to put in the security system today.”

“How many kittens?” Ella clasped her hands together. “Can we keep them?”

“Only until we find them their forever homes,” Sophie answered.

“This could be their forever home,” Ella said. “With us.”

Sophie rubbed her forehead. First, she had to ensure Ella had a forever home. “You know the deal. We can’t keep them forever, only for now.”

“Can I hold one?” Ella asked.

“After Ruthie finishes your hair and only for a minute. You don’t want to miss the bus for your field trip.”

“Ask for the white one,” Brad said. “She’s a puffball and soft like a cloud.”

Ella laughed. “She sounds perfect.”

Sophie watched Brad walk outside. Something about him made her want to pull up a chair and ask questions. But Sophie didn’t have time for idle conversations over coffee and cake. She’d never had time for the frivolous. Thankfully, she had less than twenty-four hours to spend with Brad because there were some things Sophie could never have. Brad Harrington was one of them.

CHAPTER TWO

BRAD NOTICED SOPHIE push the empty cart into the back room. For such a petite package, the woman remained a study in motion. She hadn’t stopped moving since she’d wedged herself between him and the cart and demanded he stop shelving her dog food.

He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d already found families for those kittens he’d brought inside.

She was efficient, competent and obviously guilty—like her father. There had to be a dark side to balance all that good, and he’d always been fascinated with exposing that shady inner core. And Sophie Callahan was too fascinating.

Matt leaned against his truck and tossed the tape measure at Brad. “Got a case you’re investigating?”

“No.” Brad caught the tape measure and avoided his friend’s stare. He wasn’t working a case. He was doing a favor. A favor for the widow whose late husband should be seated behind the Pacific Hills mayor’s desk, instead of his mother. “Would it matter?”

“If it involved Sophie Callahan, then yes, it’d matter.” Matt came over to stand beside Brad. “It’d matter a lot.”

Despite his experience, and what it had taken to build his company into a high-end forensic accounting and surveillance specialist firm, Brad hadn’t anticipated his friend’s reaction. Brad tapped the toe of his boot against the corner of the plywood-covered window. If he rammed his foot into the adjoining window, he’d shatter the glass. Nothing unexpected about that. Whereas everything was unexpected about Sophie.

His grandmother had dragged him to the symphony when he was thirteen. He’d been struggling to fit into his height, cursing his pimples and praying Sarah Quincy wouldn’t spot his braces. He’d lodged a series of complaints longer than any kid’s Christmas wish list from the back seat of his grandfather’s pickup, and still they’d arrived early to the performance. He’d slouched in his chair, dug his chin into his chest, convinced the evening would be torture.

But the music—the drive of the woodwinds, beat of the percussion and harmony of the strings—collided inside him and shoved out everything until only the sound remained. He’d never confessed to his grandparents, and even now his family didn’t know his contributions put him in the VIP seats of the San Francisco Philharmonic’s Stradivarian Circle, where he escaped to as often as possible.

Sophie Callahan was the first person to pull at him in places he thought only the music could reach. But, unlike the symphony, he wasn’t interested in becoming a patron of Sophie Callahan’s.

“Look, I carried in a box of kittens to her store this morning.” Brad pointed at the counter. Ruthie held a gray kitten while Ella hugged the white runt. Brad’s mother would approve of Sophie’s dedication to animals. That wasn’t Sophie’s first rescue litter and she acted as if she knew it wouldn’t be her last. Still, she remained committed.

Brad’s commitment to his own one-man cause seemed slightly more selfish in the face of Sophie’s passion for animal rescue. But he was doing what was best for him and his family: leaving. “Some jerk just dumped the box outside her place,” he explained.

“Hold on.” Matt yanked open the door and called to Ruthie, who laughed at his admonition to not get too attached to the kittens and lifted one of the kitty’s paws in a tiny wave.

Matt let the door close. “Ruthie’s sister has not one but two Great Danes that split their time between our house and Sophie’s day care. They’ll accidentally step on a kitten without ever noticing.”

Exasperation was thick in Matt’s tone, but he never masked the tenderness in his gaze when Ruthie was in his sights. Brad’s friend would bring that kitten home in an instant if Ruthie asked, and he’d protect it with everything he had. Love suited his friend. But Brad doubted he could ever love like that. He carried too much Harrington DNA. His family put on the show of being loyal, but at their core it was every Harrington for himself.