“It’s not my birthday or anything, but Dad decided we should have a Daughter’s Day. We were supposed to come last Saturday, but they were full. Now I’m glad they were, or we wouldn’t have seen you. Is thisyourbirthday?”
“No. My sister invited me to tea to thank me for lending a hand while she was sick. Right, Lauren?” She telegraphed her sister a silent plea to join the conversation.
“Right.”
That was it.
Big helpshewas.
After shooting her a disgruntled look, she turned back to Isabel. “Did you enjoy your tea?”
“Yes. It was awesome. The chocolate raspberry tart was my favorite.” The youngster linked her fingers behind her back, her demeanor wistful. “I wish you could have had tea with us, but Dad says that since you have to go back to New York after the show, we shouldn’t see you a lot or it will hurt too much when you leave. But we both wish you could stay here forever.”
Was that true?
Maybe, in light of Aaron’s suddenly ruddy complexion.
Isabel inspected him. “How come your face is red, Dad?”
The shade of crimson on his cheeks darkened as he reached up and adjusted—loosened?—the tie he wore with his sport jacket. “I’m, uh, getting warm. I think I drank too much tea. We should go, honey. We don’t want to intrude.” He put a hand on her shoulder and tried to steer her toward the exit.
She held her ground. “I guess I’ll see you at rehearsal, Miss Devyn.”
“Yes, you will.” She lifted her chin and addressed Aaron. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“You too. Come on, Isabel.” He folded her hand in his and tugged her toward the door.
Lauren watched them leave. “That was interesting.”
“Awkward.”
“Illuminating.”
“Embarrassing.”
“Informative. If you were wondering how Aaron felt about you, a big fat clue just dropped into your lap, courtesy of Isabel.” Lauren sighed. “It’s a shame your careers and lives are on opposite coasts. But it is what it is.” She put her napkin in her lap. “So what did you mean about us seeing more of each other? Are you planning to schedule some regular visits here—I hope?”
“Maybe more than that.” She paused as Jeannette appeared totake their tea order. Once they were alone again, she took a steadying breath. “It all started with Mr. Howard’s hardware store.”
Lauren’s face went blank. “You’ve lost me.”
She fiddled with her teacup. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“Try me.”
“It occurred to me that his space could be a viable location for a ballet studio.”
“Ballet studio.” Lauren squinted as she absorbed that news. “Run by who? You?”
“That was the idea.”
Her brow puckered. “You mean ... you’d move here?”
“Yes.”
“But ... what about your career in New York?”
“I’d have to give it up a bit sooner than I’d planned. But when opportunity knocks...”
