Page 59 of Always Almost You

“I am.”

“I’m Kathy,” she said, extending her hand.

Mike took it. “I remember. We met at the Hunter project.”

Kathy nodded. “And now we’re both involved in the rebuilding work in Altadena. For such a large city, it’s funny how our paths keep crossing.”

“About the Altadena projects,” Mike began, “that’s why I’m here. I was just at the synagogue a little while ago. I recommended they call your firm about some substandard upholstery work on the pews.” He shifted slightly, clearly uncomfortable. “I wanted to stop by and apologize if I volunteered you for something I shouldn’t have.”

“The synagogue hasn’t called,” Kathy said thoughtfully. “But my partner was there this morning. What did she say about it?”

Mike blinked. “I must have missed her.”

“Thank you for stopping by to mention it,” Kathy said. “Nobody likes to be blindsided by someone volunteering them for work.”

“Exactly,” Mike said. “And if I’ve accidentally become that guy, I’m really sorry.”

Kathy studied him for a moment. Susan Hunter had been absolutely right. Mike Miller was extremely nice. And extremely attractive. Susan was also right that Lauren and Mike needed to meet. She gestured toward a pair of client chairs near the window.

“I’m sure she’ll be back any minute,” Kathy said, sure of no such thing. “Why don’t you stay and talk with her when she gets back? While you wait, I’ll whip up a dynamite latte for you. In college, I worked as a barista, and I can create your initials in the foam.”

Mike laughed. “That’s impressive. If you dropped by my office, you’d be lucky to get a decent cup of black coffee.”

Kathy motioned again toward the chairs.

Mike hesitated, then shook his head. “I should get going,” he said. “I really did feel bad about volunteering your firm to solve that problem and wanted to apologize in person.” He turned toward the door.

“Thank you again for stopping by,” Kathy said. “I’ll tell my partner you came in.” Then she added, “And Happy New Year.”

Mike paused with his hand on the door. “That’s right,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s New Year’s Eve. I almost forgot.” He smiled. “Happy New Year to you, too.”

CHAPTER 39

Lauren checked her reflection one last time in the full-length mirror. The sapphire-blue velvet dress looked just as lovely on her now as it had the first time she’d tried it on in Helen’s dressing room. She made a mental note to email Helen in the morning. Her new friend had been right. She had bought the dress, and an occasion to wear it had appeared.

Lauren lifted her gaze to her face. The smoothing serum the salon had recommended had indeed made her dark hair shine. She had styled it in loose waves that brushed her shoulders. The smoky eye she’d created was a departure from her usual light, natural workday makeup, but it felt appropriate for New Year’s Eve.

The nude kitten heels were elegant while still being comfortable. She could stand in them the entire evening. Lauren nodded once at her reflection. Festive, she decided, and polished, but not like she was trying too hard.

The invitation welcomed guests to stop by any time after 8:30. It was now 8:45. She planned to arrive on the early side so she wouldn’t have to walk into a room already crowded with strangers. She picked up her small evening bag and wrapped herself in a fine black wool pashmina for warmth.

“Okay, sweet girl,” Lauren said as she passed Pumpkin, who was asleep in her corner of the living room sofa. “I don’t know if I’ll stay until midnight, but, if I do, I’ll be home by 12:30.”

Pumpkin didn’t stir.

Lauren smiled. I’m so grateful you’re not afraid of storms or fireworks. She headed for the door.

The house party was a fifteen-minute drive from Lauren’s home. She parked along the curb across the street and stepped out of her car. Then she paused. Kathy’s friend’s house was a showstopper. The couple had purchased two adjoining lots and demolished the modest 1940s ranch homes that once stood there. In their place rose a striking three-story modern residence composed of glass, steel, and pale stone.

Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the entire front façade, light glowing warmly from within. A deep balcony projected from the second floor, wrapping around both sides of the house like a floating terrace. Soft architectural lighting highlighted the clean lines of the structure.

An elegant iron fence ran along the sidewalk, softened by tall, sculpted hedges that shielded the entry courtyard from view. Through a break in the greenery, Lauren glimpsed a massive pivoting front door fashioned of dark wood framed in black steel and lit by a dramatic hanging fixture of blown glass droplets.

Lauren stood for a moment, taking it all in. “Okay,” she murmured to herself. “You’ve stared at the house long enough. You’re procrastinating.”

She crossed the street. “You’ve done this before,” she reminded herself. “You walked into the caroling group in Newport. And you went to Helen’s Christmas potluck.” She pushed open the iron gate. “And look how those turned out.” The front door stood open, just as she’d imagined. Lauren took a breath and stepped inside.

A woman in a silver lamé slip dress crossed the entry hall carrying two champagne flutes. “Welcome!” she said warmly, offering one to Lauren. “I’m Samantha, but everyone calls me Mandy.”