If You Must Know (Potomac Point #1)(97)

“Finally,” Mom said before heading to the dining room.

Erin and I exchanged a glance.

“Do you think she might change if we wore mirrors on our foreheads so she could see her expressions when she spoke to us?” Erin tittered.

“She means well.” I walked with my sister, rubbing my stomach, certain that my mother did, in fact, love us both. “For the first time in weeks, I feel hopeful. Willa and I have you and Mom, Kevin and his family, and now Richard Foster, too.”

“Which do you think will spark more fireworks, my confrontation with Lyle or Mom meeting Richard?” Erin smirked.

I grabbed her shoulder. “Oh jeez. Don’t put that in my head.”

“Forewarned is forearmed.”

The day when my life would no longer be summed up by battle metaphors could not come soon enough.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ERIN

“I’m psyched that we sold out of the products so quickly.” I set another jar of lemon-thyme sugar scrub on the counter at Castille’s, thinking about the special line for expectant mothers that my sister had suggested because certain oils weren’t safe during pregnancy. It had merit. Between that and Mom enjoying the production side of things, Shakti Suds had become a sort of family affair lately. That made it pretty easy to ask Kevin to draw up some papers to formalize a partnership. I couldn’t wait to hand Amanda that surprise after I nabbed Lyle.

“Your soaps have been a hit.” Nalini, the shop’s gorgeous—if a tad uptight—owner, flashed a tight smile. “Your being a local artisan helps me hand-sell them. And it’s nice that you can restock quickly.”

“Local artisan” sounded swanky.

“Absolutely, but I’m heading out of town for a few days. Let’s hope there aren’t any soap emergencies while I’m gone.”

No matter what I said or did, I could not crack this woman’s professional armor, which came wrapped in some Chanel-inspired designer duds, if I had to guess. Pity. Life must be boring for those without any sense of humor.

“I’ll manage until you return. Have a safe trip.” She tossed her silky, dark hair over her shoulder and went to the stockroom without another word.

I’d take those well-wishes for a safe journey, considering mine was not a pleasure trip. I expected to hit some road bumps—literally and figuratively—in my quest to trap Lyle.

A tropical depression forming a few hundred miles southeast of the island should keep them docked there for a few extra days. Stan was certain Lyle and Ebba wouldn’t risk rough seas, especially when they weren’t expecting me to show up.

Then again, Stan hadn’t had years to watch Lyle operate, as I had. That guy’s ego would not be easily intimidated by a little thing like God. But this window of opportunity was our best shot, so we were taking it.

After breaking down the old cardboard box and tossing it in the trash, I jogged down the street to Sugar Momma’s to meet up with Eli. My local-tour-guide idea had been pure genius. There was an endless list of places to show him.

The bells jingled above my head as I entered Hannah’s store and heard Rhys Lewis’s “No Right to Love You” playing.

I waved, calling out, “Hannah Banana, two masala chais with an extra dash of cinnamon, please.”

“Two?” She chuckled. “You’ve got an addiction.”

“I’m expecting a friend. He’s never been here before, which is a crime.”

“Yes, it is.” She waved me to the tables, a few of which were empty. “Grab a seat and I’ll get those set for you.”

“Thanks!” I sauntered to the small yellow table in the corner for a little privacy. Hannah brought me two steaming mugs seconds before Eli wandered inside. I waved him over. “Perfect timing.”

He’d cocked an ear to listen to the music, even as his gaze scanned the unfamiliar, colorful surroundings. My heart stopped when he planted a quick peck on my temple before taking a seat. “This place looks great.”

“You’ll learn to trust my recommendations. Potomac Point might be a gentrifying village, but there are little pockets of hipness hidden in the ‘new and improved’ side of town.”

He sipped his tea, brows rising with an approving nod. “This is good.”

I raised my hands in an “I rest my case” manner.

“You look upbeat.” He stretched his legs out. “Does this mean your sister is doing better?”

“Yes, no contractions these past few days. She’s been resting, and my mom makes sure there’s always a glass of water nearby.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Only the barest shadow of sadness passed over his face, vanishing quickly yet reminding me of his broken heart.

Today was not a day for second-guessing, so I changed the subject. “I also took your advice, sort of. My sister isn’t going to Puerto Rico to confront her ex.”

“Great news. He sounds too unpredictable—exactly the kind of guy who could be dangerous if backed into a corner. I’m glad she’s not taking unnecessary chances.” He raised his mug and blew on the surface before taking another sip.

“I volunteered to take her place in the sting operation.” I still felt the flutter of pride for being trusted to do it.