A Place to Heal. CA J.D. Bodiford
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wanted with the place. She had asked for a week to get her idea board and samples together and promised she would call her as soon as she was ready. She was grinning as she drove down the long, winding driveway. She admonished herself not to get too confident but she couldn’t help laughing out loud at the thought of landing the contract. If she could pull this off, her future was set.
CHAPTER 3
Emma ran her hands thru her hair tiredly. She had been in front of her computer for hours; she felt like she knew more about Evelyn Connell’s taste in décor than she knew about her own. Literally hundreds of articles had been written about her likes and dislikes. One thing was for sure; When Evelyn Connell liked something, it quickly became the thing to have. The problem was finding something new for her to like. Emma’s stomach growled loudly. That was enough. She stood, stretching to ease the cramp in her back. Time to take a break and get something to eat. She wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, grimacing at the lack of anything there that was appealing. She looked at the clock. It was still early enough to go out. Leaving a note for her mother just in case she missed her, she grabbed her purse and headed to the garage.
In just a few minutes, she was cruising down the highway, enjoying the feel of the wind in her hair. No music, just the sounds of the city and the night. It wasn’t far to her favorite place. Emma was a creature of habit so the hostess knew her and quickly found her a seat. She ordered a draft beer, savoring the ice-cold liquid while she looked over the menu. The waiter stood patiently, enjoying looking over Emma’s feminine form while she decided. Her skin glowed under the soft lights, her long dark hair falling over her full breasts and down into the open neck of her shirt, teasing him with the soft curves hinted at there. She smiled without guile as she gave her order. For all her experience in the business world, Emma was still inexperienced at the games women played. She continued to sip her beer, watching the couples at the bar as she waited on her food. She sometimes wondered what it would be like to have someone to share her time with, someone to share her frustrations and happiness with. She had dedicated all her time to her career and it had paid off; she was almost at the top of her game. But at what cost? She hadn’t really had a boyfriend when she was in high school and after high school, college had dominated her life. By the time she was finally able to have a social life, the death of her brothers had changed her, taking away any desire for a personal life. She had walled herself off, isolated from any chance of emotional involvement.
So here she sat, watching people a lot younger than she was, facing the realization that she was lonely. A feeling of melancholy settled over her, stealing the smile from her lovely face. She stirred the chips in the basket in front of her without seeing them. Instead, she watched the couple closest to her with a new perspective. Instead of just seeing a man push the hair out of a woman’s eyes, she saw the tender way his fingers traced the curve of her ear as he tucked the stray curl away; the way he caressed her cheek and reluctantly moved his hand from the warmth of her skin. Instead of watching a woman kiss her companion as she sat down beside him, she watched as she laid her hand provocatively on his thigh; leaned forward and tasted the warmth of his lips, her eyes closed; lingered briefly before pulling away, opening her eyes and running her tongue over her own lips as if to savor him for a few seconds more. Emma was suddenly seeing things through different eyes. It was as if she had been awakened to the real world and she didn’t like it. The waiter brought her food and put it in front of her expecting to see her beautiful smile again, but what he saw when she looked up stopped him in his tracks. Her eyes were filled with such pain he felt as if he had been punched in the chest.
“Miss, are you okay?” he asked, unable to help himself.
Emma looked away. “I’m fine,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”
He stood there, hesitating. “Can I get you anything else?” he asked.
She smiled briefly, a shadow of her past expression. “No, I don’t think so.”
He walked away slowly, looking around, trying to identify just what it was that had taken the sunshine from her face. He couldn’t see anything specific but he stood at the edge of the bar in the shadows, watching, just in case.
Emma picked at the juicy, thick burger, managing just a few small bites before finally giving up. What had once been a haven, a place she enjoyed and could unwind had now become a place that reminded her just how lonely her rise to the top had been. She shook her head. She doubted she could even carry on a conversation with a man that didn’t involve business. Finally, she had had enough. She motioned the waiter over and asked for the check and a takeout container and quickly made her escape back out into the cool night air. She drove aimlessly for a while; deliberately keeping her mind blank until she realized that nothing was being accomplished. Emma had always been a realist and this situation was no different from any other difficult thing she had had to face in her life. This, too, would pass, and life would go on. When the time was right, the right man would come along. She just had to be patient and have faith.
Emma waited patiently in the study for Mrs. Connell. Another one of the many handsome young men that worked there had helped her unload the samples she had brought and she had watched appreciatively as he easily lifted the stack of marble tiles that she wanted to use throughout the house. The muscles in his upper arms and neck bulged at the weight but he never broke a sweat, placing them on the table where she had arranged the other things. She wouldn’t have been a red blooded woman if she hadn’t noticed his trim waist and muscled thighs as he squatted to grab the boxes and his firm behind was a work of art as far as she was concerned. She shook her head at the thought of being surrounded by all this male beauty all the time. Everywhere she looked, there were others, all just as well built and courteous to a fault. She had yet to see a single woman employed there. Even the cook was a man, stolen away from the owner of a chain of upscale restaurants. Mrs. Connell had to be one of the luckiest women alive. Even though her last husband had been dead for over ten years, no one ever saw her out in public with another man although there were rumors that there was a new Mr. Connell. When anyone asked about him, it was always said that he was out of the country. Emma had heard that the marriage was a business arrangement and in name only. How in the world could a woman stay faithful to a man who was never around when she had access to all this?! Emma shook her head at the thought. If she ever married, fidelity would be the number one vow.
Mrs. Connell hurried into the room, apologizing for making her wait. Emma reassured her she hadn’t been waiting long as they walked over to the table. Before she could get the last words out of her mouth, the door opened again and an older man carrying a platter with ice-cold glasses of tea and sandwiches came in.
“Thank you so much, Scott,” Mrs. Connell said as she reached for a sandwich. She looked at Emma and grimaced. “I was on the phone for so long I missed lunch and I just could not get Mrs. Harrison to hush!” She handed Emma a glass and kicked off her shoes, folding one leg under her as she sat down and leaned onto the table with her elbows. “So what have you got for me, Ms. Sloan?”
Emma took a deep breath. This was it. Her one shot.
“Mrs. Connell, I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of doing a little research on you.”
Much to Emma’s relief, the older woman smiled. Her eyes were sparkling as she sat up.
“So what did you manage to find out?” she asked.
“Well, for one thing, Mrs. Connell, I found out that your favorite vacation spot is Key West. I also found out that the last three times you’ve had your homes redecorated, they all had one thing in common: you like classy and casual which is the hardest combination to achieve. What makes your taste such a challenge, though, is that it’s not the big things that you focus on, it’s the little ones, the comfort, the overall ambience. You like to make your guests feel like they could move in permanently and be perfectly happy rather than just visit for a while. Honestly, your last decorator said you nearly drove him over the edge over the towels in the bathroom.”
Mrs. Connell fell back into her chair and laughed loudly. “If he had listened to me instead of doing what he wanted to do, I would have left him alone. It was just too much fun watching him scour the stores to