Finally, A Family. Callie Endicott

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Finally, A Family - Callie Endicott


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situation.”

      Rachel said goodbye and walked toward the agency.

      Logan glanced back at the Crystal Connection’s storefront. Dealing with the issue would be part of the learning curve as he shifted from fashion photographer to businessman, but he wasn’t required to enjoy every single aspect of it.

      Maybe they should have anticipated a change in ownership over the eight months since Eric Parrish’s death. Penny and her husband had started the store together, so it may have been too painful for her to continue running it alone.

      Logan had spent the last month in Italy, which was why he still hadn’t met the new owner. His partners had mentioned she’d been there for a couple of weeks, working alongside her grandmother, but they’d assumed she was just helping. Then, last Friday, Penny had sent a note, asking them to change the name on the lease to her granddaughter, Jessica Parrish, saying the shop now belonged to her. The lease specifically stated it wasn’t transferable, but that was a technicality. While they weren’t legally required to honor a change to the rental agreement, it seemed wrong to refuse under the circumstances.

      They knew Penny, but Jessica Parrish was a lesser known quantity. Maybe he should call Kevin McClaskey—the previous owner of the agency might be able to tell him about Jessica. Kevin knew most of his former tenants the way he knew his own family.

      Logan sighed. Getting more information was definitely wise before discussing business with Ms. Parrish. In the meantime, he may as well go in and get a cup of coffee.

      The thought made him pause.

      The Crystal Connection was known for its great coffee, but what would it be like with a new owner? Well, even if it was awful, diplomacy demanded he continue getting his coffee there for a while. In the interim, he might learn something useful.

      As he came closer, he looked to see if there were any visible changes, not that Jessica Parrish would have had much time for alterations. Everything mostly looked the same except for the small spotlights in the windows.

      “Hello?” Logan called as he walked inside. There was no one in sight.

      “Welcome to our store,” said a small voice. “Can I help you?”

      He saw a little girl sitting on the floor next to the sales counter, a sketch pad resting on her up drawn knees. From what Rachel had said, he figured she was Jessica Parrish’s daughter, which meant she was around seven or eight years old.

      “Uh, hi,” he said. “Is this your place now?”

      “Kind of. It used to be Grandma and Grandpa’s, but Momma has it now.”

      “I see.”

      “Hello. Can I help you?” another voice inquired.

      He turned and saw a young woman standing behind him, holding a large box in her arms. Her striking blue eyes held a friendly glint.

      “Yes, I’d like a cup of coffee. I’ve been here before. I’m one of the partners in Moonlight Ventures.”

      Her smile flashed. “Are you the large Southwest Twist, the low-fat mocha latte—”

      Logan shrugged. “I don’t have a usual.”

      “Oh, yes, you must be the one that Grams calls Magellan.”

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “Because you try different things and don’t like routine. But maybe you’d prefer a different nickname.”

      “If anything, I’ve thought of myself as a Stanley. You know, of Stanley and Livingstone,” Logan said, surprised that Jessica’s grandmother had read him so well. He’d be bored to death following a routine every single day.

      “Ah, another explorer.” Jessica put the box she was carrying on the counter. “What can I get you?”

      “I’m in a plain coffee mood this morning, so a large organic medium roast. By the way, I’m Logan Kensington.”

      “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jessica Parrish. This is my daughter, Cyndi.” Jessica gestured to the child sitting nearby. “She’s helping me out because her school isn’t in session this week.”

      Cyndi smiled and wiggled her fingers in a wave.

      Logan smiled in return and then looked back at Cyndi’s mother. “We didn’t know the shop was changing ownership until we got Mrs. Parrish’s note.”

      “There was a delay in getting everything settled. Something or other with the will. Grams prefers having her ducks in a row before making announcements.”

      Jessica went into the coffee bar in a corner of the shop and he evaluated her the way he’d evaluate a model he needed to photograph. Great skin. A steady gaze and firm jawline that suggested stubborn resolve. The unusual shade of her blue eyes complemented her hair, which was brown with a coppery tone. And while she didn’t have a particularly bold figure, he preferred her slim curves.

      He glanced at her ring finger and was annoyed with himself. It would be dishonest to deny he found her appealing, but he couldn’t let it be an issue. Whether she was married or single, his interest was entirely on behalf of the agency.

      “Do you have your own cup?” Jessica asked.

      “I forgot to bring it,” he said.

      Many of the Crystal Connection customers were ecologically conscious and brought their own cups, getting a discount in return. She was probably continuing the policy.

      “That’s okay.” She filled a tall paper cup and handed it to him. He added cream and fastened a lid on the top, noticing it was different than the ones Penny and Eric had stocked. He appreciated that it was biodegradable, instead of regular plastic.

      Jessica went to the cash register and punched in some information. “I see we have your credit card number on file. Do you want me to continue charging your account once a month?”

      “That would be great.”

      “I just remembered—an advance copy of your calendar arrived a few days ago.” Jessica took out a large envelope from under the counter. “I’m sure you’ve already seen it.”

      “Yeah, but I didn’t know advance copies had been distributed.”

      On the calendar’s thick, glossy cover was a photo of two magnificent stags, charging each other in a battle for supremacy, their breath steaming in the cold air. Logan’s signature was printed at the bottom right in bold silver ink. He hadn’t wanted his name to be so prominent, but the publisher had insisted his reputation was one of the selling points. Logan wasn’t convinced. He wasn’t an Ansel Adams or a Pulitzer Prize–winning photographer; he was best known in fashion circles.

      “The photographs are stunning,” Jessica said, flipping through the pages. “I’ve shown it around and already have a waiting list for copies.”

      “I loooove your pictures,” Cyndi chimed in. “My favorite is the one of the baby mountain lions. It’s splendiferous.”

      The photo had taken patience, dumb luck and a huge dash of imprudence since mountain lions were notoriously protective mothers. Logan didn’t want to confess how close he’d actually gotten to the small family; he was letting everybody assume he’d used a very powerful telephoto lens.

      “Thanks, Cyndi,” he said to the child. “That’s one of my favorites, too. I didn’t know the Crystal Connection was going to carry my calendars.”

      Jessica chuckled. “Grams sent an order as soon as Uncle Kevin told her you had one coming out for next year.”

      “Uncle Kevin? I hadn’t heard you were related.” Logan frowned. Discussions about moving the Crystal Connection would be even more sensitive if Jessica was Kevin McClaskey’s niece.

      “We aren’t, but I’ve known him all my life. Grams and Kevin’s wife were childhood friends.


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