Blame It On Your Heart (Big Timber) Read online

  "I can't let you leave this kitchen with a couple of flabby turkey on whites with mayonnaise," he said, taking her by the elbow and steering her towards the dining room, ignoring her protests. "They'll be ready in five."

  Bemused, Ellie followed her out and beckoned Damon to do the same. "This works out well, actually, having you both here. In addition to the menu, there's something else I want to show you." She ushered them back to the restaurant's tiny office.

  The office computer was a comparatively ancient model hooked up to a large, equally ancient monitor, which Ellie did her best to turn around so everyone could have a view of her latest project.

  She clicked on the browser and waited for the graphics and text to load on the screen. "What do you think?"

  "What is this?" Molly asked.

  "It's our new web site," Ellie said proudly. "Well, at least a prototype for it."

  "We just redid the web site last summer," Molly said tightly.

  "You did?"

  "Yeah. Remember, I asked for your feedback since you're clearly the artist in the family, but you never said anything."

  Last summer the scandal surrounding Toby was reaching its climax, but Ellie didn't bother pointing it out to her sister. "Well, I was talking to Jane, and she and I thought maybe with the party coming up, and with the publicity for the restaurant thought it would be a good idea to give the web site a cleaner, more sophisticated look."

  She clicked around to give them a tour. "I designed it to be much easier to navigate, and the new graphics really highlight the beauty of our location and the amazing food Brady is cooking."

  She straightened up and reached for a pile of papers on the corner of her desk. "We can also create new menus, brochures and business cards from the same template," she said, handing it over to Molly.

  Her sister gave it a glance, shrugged, and passed it over to Damon. "It's nice, I suppose, if that's the look you're going for. It does seem a waste to just ditch the menus we already have printed."

  "I was talking to Brady, and he said it would be great if he had the ability to update the menus more often, base the food on more seasonal ingredients. This would allow us to have that flexibility."

  "Seasonal ingredients?" Molly said, rolling her eyes. "I'm glad you and Brady have all of these great ideas about completely changing the restaurant, but you have to get buy in from the rest of us first."

  "Nobody's talking about completely changing anything," Ellie said, taken aback by her sister's accusatory tone. "I just think a party that will get us a lot of attention is great incentive for us to think about some improvements we can make. It thought this is what you wanted me to do, take care of all of this stuff so you could focus on your wedding."

  At that moment, Brady walked in and unceremoniously shoved a bag of sandwiches in Molly's hand. "You're welcome," he said and left before she could reply.

  Molly rolled her eyes, then shot Ellie another too bright smile. "You know what, you're right. It's silly for me to get upset about something as silly as a web site when I have my wedding to plan. I'm sure whatever you come up with will be great."

  With that she left, leaving Ellie feeling equal parts stung and confused.

  ###

  Damon didn't miss the way Ellie's mouth tightened in disappointment. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and he curled his fingers against the urge to reach out and massage away the tension. Since that simple handshake in his kitchen three weeks ago, he'd done his damnedest to give her the as wide a berth as possible.

  "Don't tell, me, you hate it too?" she said, snatching the samples back as he stacked the papers in short, angry movements.

  "No, I think it looks really great."

  She shot him a doubtful look over her shoulder. "You don't have to say that just to make me feel better."

  "I'm well past the point of saying things just to make you feel better."

  She rolled her eyes. "At least I can take comfort in knowing you're sincere," she said with a little smile.

  That slight curve of her lips sent a curl of warmth down his spine, easing the tension that had locked his shoulders when he came in and saw her looking so cozy with Brady. For a moment there, her laughter, the sight of her hand resting so comfortably on the other man's shoulder had made his vision haze over with red.

  He hated to admit it, but if Molly hadn't spoken up he wasn't positive he wouldn't have punched his best friend square in the face. Idiot. There's no reason you should give a rat's ass who she smiles and laughs with. Hell, if she wants to hook up with Brady—

  "Are you okay?" Ellie's voice interrupted his inner rant. He followed her gaze to his hand, which was now clenched in a fist.

  "Fine," he said, uncurling his fingers as if he wasn't thinking about wrapping them around his best friend's throat. He had to get a handle on himself. "This all looks good. I think we should go with it."

  "Thanks. I don't know what's up with Molly these days. It's like I can't do anything right," she said, her mouth pulling down at the corners. "Did she say anything to you?"

  Before he could even answer, she continued, "If she has a problem with me, I wish she'd just tell me. We were always so close, but I feel like the past year, with everything that happened—" she stopped short. "Sorry. I know the last thing you want to hear is me babbling on about all this."

  No, he didn't want to get the nitty gritty about her asshole husband and how he'd screwed her over. But as he watched the weary look settle over her features he couldn't deny the urge to offer some comfort. "I'm sure Molly is just stressed, trying to plan the wedding and dealing with everything going on here. We all are."

  "I suppose," she said but didn't seem convinced.

  "We could all stand to blow off some steam," he said. "Tell you what, next Monday I'll host a barbecue at my place."

  She froze in the act of stacking some papers. "You sure you want me to come?"

  "Of course." Not. "The whole staff is invited, families too. You'll have a chance to meet some new people in town and catch up with the old crowd."

  "I don't know," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'm not sure I'm ready to dive back into the old crowd."

  "Too good for us, Miss New York City?" He'd tried for teasing, but it came out sharper than he'd meant.

  "Of course not," she said, offended. "I'm just not sure I'm ready to hear what they think of me after everything that happened."

  "We're talking about people who've been our friends since elementary school. What's to worry about?"

  "There are a lot of people who claimed to be my friends who were only too willing to trash me in the press. Not to mention to my face. A lot of it even got back to Anthony—things kids heard their parents saying." She paused and swallowed hard. "It doesn't exactly make you want to go out and socialize."

  He could try to be as tough as he wanted where she was concerned, but he couldn't suppress the burst of sympathy as it started to sink in what the reality of her life must have been over the past year.

  When the scandal first exploded, he'd doubted the accusations hurled her way. But, he was ashamed to admit, when all the crap came out about her husband, the mistress, and the fact that the only assets Troy had left had gone to his secret family, Damon had felt pretty goddamned vindicated.

  Served her right.

  Now it turned out, seeing her suffer wasn't nearly as satisfying close up.

  He imagined that many would say she didn't deserve sympathy. That her suffering was nothing compared to people who'd put their trust in Troy only to lose their life's savings. Elderly retirees who now had no means to get them through their old age.

  And that was all true, but that didn't stop him ache as he compared the Ellie he'd known to the woman standing in front of him. The Ellie he'd known had never given two shits about what anyone thought of her, had never backed down from a challenge, had never doubted herself or her impulses.

  Now she was uneasy about socializing, even with people who'd known her long before t
he press had tried to paint her as the woman who'd turned a blind eye while her husband bilked his clients out of millions of dollars.

  He couldn't let that continue.

  "It will be fun. If you don't want to come for yourself, come for Anthony's sake. There will be tons of other kids there for him to play with, maybe make some friends before school starts."

  He could see her starting to soften and knew he'd taken the right approach. The public's opinion and his own old hurts aside, there was no denying Ellie was devoted to her kid.

  "What time should we be there and what should I bring?"

  ###

  Ellie checked her reflection for the dozenth time. In deference to the heat, her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail. She debated whether her choice of a short, floral print skirt and a light pink sleeveless top was too garden party for a backyard barbecue. She didn't want to go too casual and risk looking like a slob, but she also didn't want people to think she was trying too hard.

  These are people we've been friends with since grade school. What are you so worried about.

  Plenty, she thought as Damon's voice rang through her head. She tried to convince herself that he was right and she was probably overreacting.

  But he didn't understand what it was like. Over the past few weeks, several people she knew had come by the restaurant while she was working. Some close friends she'd lost touch with, others acquaintances whose names she had to be reminded of. Many of them seemed genuinely delighted to see her and talked about getting together. But as soon as she turned her back to put in their order or excuse herself to get work done, she could sense them leaning into each other, whispering.

  It was irrational, the way her stomach clenched with nerves and her heart felt like it was trying to escape through her throat at the prospect of seeing a bunch of people and having to talk to them.

  She could still cancel, she thought. Plead a headache, or better yet, claim Anthony was throwing up. A puking child always offered an easy out.

  "Mommy," Anthony said as he slammed open her bedroom door. "It's one oh oh, time to go to the party," he said, bouncing on his toes the way he did when he was excited. The thought of canceling went right out the window.

  "Do you think there will be cake?"

  "I'm not sure, sweet pea," she said as she slid her feet into flat, strappy sandals. She reached one hand toward his and grabbed her purse with the other.

  "But there's always cake at a party."

  As they walked down the stairs, she explained that this was a barbecue, more of a casual kind of party.

  "Like at Auntie Sarah's that time? I won the giant teddy bear!"

  "Maybe a little more low key than that," she said as she thought about the barbecue Sarah had hosted last summer at her house in the Hamptons. The three hundred person guest list had included professional athletes and Academy Award winning actors, and the event had been catered by Wolfgang Puck himself.

  Meanwhile the children had been entertained by a carnival set up on the west lawn, complete with carnival games, a merry go round and a Ferris wheel.

  One silver lining in all of this, she mused, was that at least Anthony would grow up with the knowledge that most people in the world didn't hold carnivals in their back yards.

  On the way out, Ellie grabbed a bottle of wine and a six pack of beer to bring. Adele was already waiting out front in the car.

  "I'm glad you and Damon seemed to have made up," her mother said as Ellie turned and settled in her seat after helping Anthony fasten his seat belt.

  Inexplicably, Ellie felt her cheeks heat. "I wouldn't say we've made up.” That would imply too many things she didn't want to think about when she was bracing herself to spend the afternoon at his house. "We've managed to put our differences aside now that we have to work together."

  "I suppose you've got to start somewhere."

  "Start what?" Ellie said, suspicion raising the little hairs on the back of her neck.

  "Oh, nothing," Adele said, a little too quickly. "I just think it's good the two of you are getting along so well."

  Ellie wouldn't exactly put it that way, but she didn't feel like discussing it with her mother. Especially in front of Anthony who seemed to have ears like a bat when it came to subjects she'd rather he didn't hear about.

  While their truce had endured enough for him to take pity on her and invite her to the barbecue—and she knew it wasn't any more than that—their interactions weren't exactly what she'd call friendly.

  Too much lingering tension for that. And, God help her, there was no way she could relax around him when every time she saw him her brain was flooded with the image of him standing in his doorway in nothing but running shorts. All muscles and smooth, sweat-slicked skin.

  That combined with the memories of how good it had been with him until the memories of being with him in the past got tangled up with the fantasies of what it would be like to be with him now. Until her nights were filled with fevered dreams that made her blood run hot and jolted her awake restless, aching with unsatisfied need.

  It's just because it's been so long, she tried to convince herself.

  Right. And the fact that your libido comes roaring back to life as soon as you see him again? Pure coincidence.

  But as far as she could tell, Damon was feeling no resurgence of the flame, she mused as she got out of the car and led Anthony around the house, following the sounds of people and the smell of charcoal.

  Which was a good thing, she insisted to herself, writing off the little clench in her gut as nerves when Damon acknowledged her with a curt nod, unable to tear his attention away from the blonde woman holding his arm and speaking intently to him.

  Adele immediately excused herself to join Damon's parents on the other side of the lawn.

  A couple of boys who looked to be close to Anthony's age were kicking a soccer ball a few yards away. Anthony stopped and stared longingly. "You can go play," Ellie said.

  "I'm a little nerbous."

  "I'm sure they're really nice."

  As if on cue, Cindy, Anthony's babysitter bounded up and swept Anthony up in a bear hug and gave him a big smacking kiss on the cheek. Anthony wiped it away, giggling the entire time, prompting Cindy to cover his entire face with noisy pecks. "You see those boys over there?" she said, pointing to the soccer players. "They're my cousins, Ian and Billy. Ian's going to be in kindergarten, just like you. I've been telling them all about you."

  Anthony went off with Cindy without so much as a second glance.

  Ellie watched, smiling, as he joined the other boys in play. Then she looked around at the crowd of forty or so people, all engaged in conversation. The thought of intruding on any of them made her throat go tight again.

  Sighting the bar area set up in one corner of the patio, she decided to drop off her offerings and get herself a cup of false courage.

  She tucked her beer into the cooler and had just poured herself a clear plastic cup full of red wine when she heard a woman exclaim, "Ellie Tanner! Or Ellie Franklin, I guess I should say. The whole town has been buzzing about your return."

  Though she hadn't heard it in over a decade, Ellie would have recognized that voice anywhere. It still made her shoulders bunch with tension and her skin prickle with distaste.

  Pasting on a smile, she turned to face Amy Simpson. Ah, my frenemy of old, we meet again. "Actually, I took my maiden name back a few months ago."

  Amy's unnaturally blue eyes—they'd been brown back in high school—widened with sympathy that was as real as Lindsay Lohan's lips. "Of course, you would want to associate yourself as little as possible with that horrible situation. We all felt so terrible for you."

  Ellie nodded and sipped at her wine. One, two, three...

  "You look so tired and worn out. You can just see how it's taken a toll on you."

  And there she was, the Amy she remembered. Reeling you in with her saccharine sweetness so she could get you close enough to smack you down. She'd spent the bett
er part of junior high and high school trying to steer Damon's attention away from Ellie and onto herself.

  Apparently she'd succeeded, if Damon's intent focus on her earlier was anything to go by. Ellie took a sizable swallow of wine to wash away the sudden bitterness on her tongue.

  "Well you look certainly look fantastic, Amy," Ellie said. "You know, whenever I come here I'm always so envious of how comfortable women seem to be with their bodies. In New York, everyone was so focused on being stick thin, I think it really does age you. But you're a prime example of how carrying a couple of extra pounds can keep you looking like you're still in high school." When it came to Amy, Ellie had learned to give as good as she got.

  "Thanks," Amy said, her smile going brittle. "I find that skinny might look good on magazines and TV, but when it comes down to it, men like a little to hold on to."

  "And you've had a wide enough sample to know."

  "Right now only one man's opinion counts," Amy said raising her hand to wave at someone in the crowd, her smile coy.

  Ellie knew in her gut who she was waving at, but she turned to confirm it just the same. Damon was looking their way, his expression unreadable as he returned Amy's wave.

  "We've been seeing each other for a few months," Amy said, not even bothering to hide the smugness in her tone. "I hope that won't make things awkward between us."

  Ellie drained her cup, forcing the red wine past the lump lodged in her throat. "Of course not. Damon and I are ancient history. Another lifetime." Maybe if she kept telling herself that she'd start to believe it. "Even so," Ellie said, reaching past Amy to refill her cup, "when has it not been awkward between us?"

  Ellie flashed her a tight smile and made her way across the lawn where Molly was chatting with a group that included her fiancé, Josh, and her best friend, Sadie, who spotted her and waved enthusiastically. As she wove through the crowd she smiled and waved at several people she recognized from high school.

  The old crowd, she thought with a little pang. It felt like a hundred years ago.