The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2)(27)
Chapter Six
“Whatever else happens, you must be happy that Logan’s project brings us one step closer to making retail space a reality.” Steffi set aside the photos of Logan’s apartment that Claire had already memorized. “I’m meeting with building-supply companies this week to get us added to the lists they hand to their customers who are looking for small contractors.”
“Good idea.” Claire had awakened this morning full of creative energy and confidence. Things would turn around for them now. She could feel success in her grasp, just like the rush she used to get after a great practice. “I’m starving. Let’s grab a quick lunch.”
“Oh.” Steffi screwed up her face before stretching her arms along the tabletop. “Peyton called me this morning. She’s feeling a little stronger today and wanted to get out of the house, so I agreed to meet her for lunch. Of course, you’re welcome to join us.” Her attempt at a smile resembled a wince.
“No thanks.” Claire unclenched her jaw. She didn’t have the right to demand loyalty, but it stung that Steffi wouldn’t take a side—her side.
“I understand, but if you change your mind, we’ll be at Thai Basil. I know how much you love its shrimp tom yum soup.”
She did love that soup. Hearty and spicy, perfect for a cold March afternoon. But sitting across from Peyton would give her heartburn.
She shook her head. “Just as well. I’ve decided to take another run at Mrs. Brewster to push her into that master bathroom remodel. The woman has no vision. She couldn’t imagine what I was saying. If I sketch a little something and attach some photos, she might change her mind. It’s worth a shot, anyhow.”
“I like when you get into bulldog mode. Sounds like a good plan.” Steffi rose from her chair.
They hugged goodbye before Steffi strolled out of the house they’d shared for nine months. When she left, Claire slouched against the arm of the sofa. The cozy living room looked like something straight out of House Beautiful magazine. Comfortable. Welcoming. The kind of environment Logan claimed to want for himself.
This rental had been a place she’d enjoyed coming home to when Steffi lived here, too. A place filled with warmth and love.
But now she saw through the illusion of her own design and knew a truth that Logan would learn only after she’d redecorated his home. No furnishings, drapes, or artwork could infuse a home with genuine comfort. Only the love inside the four walls could do that for people. Until she—and he—found someone to share their spaces with, their homes might always feel a little bit empty and cold. The choices they were both making lately suggested they’d better keep space heaters handy.
An hour later, she saved her drawings for Mrs. Brewster in a working folder. Her stomach grumbled, prompting her to go to the kitchen and check her refrigerator. As she suspected, her options consisted of condiments, milk, and leftover cheesecake. Nothing hearty and satisfying. Nothing healthy.
She opened the pantry door but could hardly get excited about Ritz Crackers and peanut butter. Not after Steffi had put the idea of that soup in her head. Steffi, who was probably sitting down with Peyton at this moment.
Logan’s plea nudged Claire again. What she deemed healthy avoidance, others might view as her cowering from Peyton, and that didn’t sit well. Even sweet old Pat had sounded fed up with Claire holding on to her grudge. “Thank Peyton,” she’d said about Todd. That idea still made Claire huff. However, facing Peyton in public would put an end to the whispers taking place all around her. And she’d get her soup.
She grabbed her keys and coat and went to her car, pumping herself up for what could devolve into an ugly situation. When she arrived in town, she parked a block from the restaurant. She stared at the window boxes filled with silk ivy and ruby-red geraniums while calling in a takeout order, which would provide her an excuse to leave after ten minutes. Plenty of time for Peyton to apologize, yet not enough time to turn the event into an episode of The Jerry Springer Show.
While it might be unfair to spring herself on Peyton, fairness wasn’t her concern. After all, Peyton had been less than fair with her.
She heaved a sigh and got out of her car. Heavy, clumsy feet made the two hundred yards to the door seem like a ten-mile hike. Her shortness of breath only made it worse. The anxiety attack annoyed her. This was her home turf, after all. She inhaled cold air and held her breath, then blew it out, slow and steady, before throwing back her shoulders and opening the door.
The divine aroma of coconut, seafood, and spice stirred her hunger. Lawana, the owner’s daughter, greeted her.
“Your order’s not ready yet, Claire.” Her rich skin and dark eyes always made Claire feel plain and pale. Logan would probably love to photograph Lawana, with her lush mouth and inky hair. Imagine what her ponytail could paint on his walls!
“That’s fine. I’m not in a rush.” Claire smiled, remembering why she’d come and wondering if Steffi and Peyton were behind her at a table. If so, had they seen her? Every hair on her body vibrated. “Let’s get the bill out of the way.”
She signed the credit card receipt, then slowly turned and glanced around the room. She spied Steffi and Peyton in the corner.
Steffi saw her first, her eyes widening in shock. Peyton looked in Claire’s direction and set down her chopsticks before wiping her mouth and lowering her hands to her lap.