Lois Richer - A Ring and a Promise

“I’ll let you know when you do.” She tapped the spoon on her saucer twice before she set it down and leaned forward. “You and Abby talked? There aren’t going to be any problems between you?”

Not if he stayed away from her.

“Well, after five years, it was a little difficult to squeeze everything into a couple of fifteen-minute discussions,” he temporized. “But I’ve apologized and Abby said she didn’t want to hark back to the past. We’re both professionals. I think we can do our jobs at Weddings by Woodwards without conflict.”

“I see.” Winifred leaned back and sipped her coffee, her eagle eyes trained on him. “You never did clarify why you left town so quickly after proposing to the girl.”

And he wasn’t going to explain now.

“First you announced your engagement and then, bang, you were on the next flight to Europe, a job for which you had already turned me down.” Clearly Winifred wanted an explanation.

“I—uh, realized I’d made a mistake. So I corrected it.”

“The way you did it seemed kind of hard on Abby.”

“What did she say?” Donovan asked curiously.

“Abby?” Winifred shook her head. “Nothing to me. I overheard an argument between her and her mother that grad night. The next day, I learned she’d left for a short holiday. When she came back, she moved into her own place, put a smile on her lips and focused on whatever work I assigned her.”

“For the summer, you mean.” Just as he’d done, Donovan thought.

“From then until now. Abby’s never left Woodwards.”

Donovan sat up, confused.

“But what about when she went to college?”

“Abby didn’t go to college.” Winifred frowned. “She’s taken a number of courses over the past few years, of course. She’s fully qualified as a jewelry designer. But she never formally attended college. She’s always focused on her work.”

“Because her career is so important to her.” For five years Donovan had prayed hard for the bitterness to leave. Guess that needed more work.

“I’m not sure that was true back then. She seemed to need the work to give herself focus five years ago.” Winifred smiled. “But she’s certainly career-oriented now. Not that I’m complaining. Abby is the best thing to happen to our jewelry department.”

Something didn’t make sense. Abby had won a full college scholarship. Why hadn’t she gone?

Winifred set down her cup.

“Actually, Abby is why I wanted to speak to you, Donovan.”

“Oh?” Trepidation climbed up his neck.

“I know that girl is going places. She has the drive and she has the capability. Before she does, I want to use her skills, and yours, to make some changes in our jewelry department. I want the two of you to come up with some kind of campaign or revamping of ideas—something that will give Woodwards Jewelry a whole new look. In short, I want you two to work together.”

Donovan went cold.

“Grandmother, you’ve already asked me to put together a national campaign. I’m not sure I can manage that and—”

“Aren’t you the marketing guru who said he had a thousand ideas?” Winifred’s perceptive gaze narrowed. “I want the jewelry department modernized, Donovan. If two projects are too much for you, we’ll put the national one on hold.”

She was shrewd. Donovan knew there was no way to avoid this assignment without admitting to his grandmother that he’d never resolved exactly how he felt toward Abby.

“Unless there’s some reason why you can’t work with her.” Those all-seeing eyes dared him to argue.

“If that’s what you want, Grandmother, then that is what I’ll work toward. I can’t help thinking though, that Abby is already swamped. And now she’s entered this contest.” He told her what little he knew about it. “With her parents’ situation, I know she’s struggling to fit in enough time to work on her first entry.” Donovan slouched into his chair and fiddled with his shoelace, pretending nonchalance.

“I’m glad she’s entered it,” Winifred said with satisfaction. “She has talent. Loads of it.”

“Of course preparing for the New York contest will be on her own time, but still, it’s a lot to ask of her to help revamp her department right now, isn’t it?” Donovan said.

Winifred was not put off.

“You and Abby are both idea people. I’m sure that with your creative gifts combined you’ll come up with something fantastic.” Winifred sipped her coffee, closing her eyes to savor the last drop. Then she reluctantly set cup and saucer back on the tray. “One of the things I most regret about this old heart wearing out is cutting down on my coffee.”

Because he could see weariness creeping over her smooth porcelain face, Donovan stifled the other arguments he’d lined up.

“When would you like us to start?” he asked quietly.

“The sooner the better. Perhaps you can talk to Abby about it tomorrow, do some preliminary work. She’s been in charge of the department long enough, I’m certain she has ideas of her own. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of weeks to put together some kind of generalized plan, should it?”

Two weeks? That left him no opportunity to avoid Abby. Donovan searched for some excuse to explain the intricacies of his work to Winifred and realized there wasn’t any point. Only someone who had spent days, weeks and months knitting ideas together into one solid focus would understand that overnight successes of the marketing variety seldom happened.

“I think it’s better if you don’t put a time frame on it, Grandmother. I don’t know what ideas Abby might have, but I will need time to take a look at the department. I always like to allow things to percolate inside my head before I start planning a campaign.” Donovan watched her eyes narrow and knew what she was thinking. “I’m not trying to weasel out of this or to put you off. But I hadn’t really considered any kind of marketing plan for the jewelry department. I’ve been focusing more on the company in general.”

“And you need time to switch gears,” she murmured.

“Yes.”

Her stare was intense.

“You’re sure it’s not working with Abby that has you bothered?”

“Why should it be? I hope we can be friends again, but there’s nothing between us. We each have our own lives now and my focus is on Ariane.” Donovan forced out the image of Abby storming away from him.

Avoiding her shouldn’t be that difficult.

“However, I do think it would be better if you explained this idea to her, rather than me,” Donovan suggested. “After all, I’m the new guy and you’re the boss returning to work after a long hiatus. You should be pointing out the new direction for the company.”

Winifred said nothing as she studied him. But Donovan could almost hear her clicking over details in her mind.

“Fine. I’ll talk to her. I just hope your past isn’t going to cause problems.”

“You don’t have to worry, Grandmother.”

But as he sat in his room later, Donovan’s confidence slipped. Although he preferred to pretend the past was dead, it was obvious he and Abby both had issues that needed resolving.

Abby might prefer to pretend their breakup was his fault, but he knew differently and he didn’t understand why she tried to lay it all on him. A hard core of resentment balled a little tighter inside Donovan’s heart.

But bitterness did no one any good. George’s death had been God’s wake-up call, a challenge to stop wasting his life as a good-times guy, skating over the surface, reveling in the good times and avoiding the bad.

Donovan was determined not to ignore that call anymore. He picked up his Bible and read a few verses, hoping to ease the knot of anger at Abby’s pretense that he’d run out on her with no reason. But the words blurred together and he knew there was only one Person who could truly help.