The Parent Trap(28)

With any luck she’d be willing to have a conversation about it over dinner tonight, the kind where she would talk without him having to feel as though he was conducting an interrogation. There had to be a first time for everything, right? Of course there was.



SARAH SAT AND EASED tired feet out of shoes that had stopped feeling comfortable several hours ago. What a day. It had flown by, but her to-do list was still almost as long as it had been that morning. Half of the new handbags still had to be unpacked and entered into the computer inventory, and the window display was still in total disarray.

“On the plus side,” she reminded herself, “you’ve made record sales for a Tuesday, and that is always a good thing.”

She sipped some more water and was debating whether or not to force her feet back into the shoes when the doorbell jangled.

“And here we go again.” With shoes on her feet and a smile on her face, she returned to the front of the store. Jonathan’s daughter stood there, looking both hesitant and curious.

“Kate. Hi.”

“Hi, Sarah. I hope it’s okay I’m here. My dad and Casey are at soccer practice or something, and you said it was okay for me to drop by.”

“Of course it’s okay. You’re welcome anytime. Casey sent a text to remind me about the practice this afternoon.”

“It seemed like a good time to check out your store.” Kate took a careful look around, then seemed to zero in on the window display Sarah had dismantled that morning.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said. “My assistant had to stay home because her little boy is sick. I’ve been here on my own all day and it’s been super busy, so I haven’t had time to redo the display.”

“Oh.” Kate’s gaze lingered on the undressed mannequins, as though she had something to say.

“How was your first day at Serenity Bay High?” Sarah asked.

“It was good. Casey and I have two classes together, and she introduced me to some of her friends.”

“That’s good. I’ll bet it’s a lot different from the high school you would have attended in the city.” Reminding her about the school and friends she hadn’t wanted to leave behind was the wrong thing to say. What was she thinking? “I mean, I hope it’s different in a good way.”

Kate shrugged. “School’s school.”

Sarah recalled something else Jonathan had said on Saturday night after the girls had gone upstairs.

She’s going through a...I don’t know...a phase? At least I hope it’s a phase.

He might be right, but Sarah suspected he had a tendency to overreact to his daughter’s attitude, and Kate knew exactly what she needed to do to push his buttons. So instead of reacting to the girl’s dismissive comment, Sarah changed the subject.

“I still have lot to do before I leave this afternoon. A shipment of handbags came in today and I haven’t finished unpacking them yet, and then I still have to do the window displays. Why don’t you take a look around? The younger styles are on this side of the store,” she said with a wave. “Accessories—belts, scarves, handbags—are here in the center and the more mature styles are on the opposite side.” Old-lady clothes, as Casey referred to them.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a store that caters to both,” Kate said.

“Small towns generally don’t offer a lot of shopping options, so I decided it made good business sense to provide them.” And she was glad she’d gone with her instincts, because it had paid off in spades.

Kate briefly surveyed the racks, but then her gaze strayed back to the mannequins. “Can I help with the window? I mean, I’ve always wanted to do one.”

“Oh. Really?” It seemed odd that a fourteen-year-old would rather work than shop. Casey had mentioned that their new neighbor wanted to work in the fashion industry, and the girl definitely had a sense of style. Her off-the-shoulder sweater, skinny jeans and heels created a eye-popping combo. Not exactly typical for the average SBH student, but the clothes suited her to a tee and she wore them with quiet confidence and enough flair to make people notice. And probably turn the heads of every boy at school, she thought, including the seniors. Maybe her father had good reason to worry.

“You are welcome to tackle the window, but are you sure you wouldn’t rather look around? You can feel free to try things on, if you’d like.”

“I’d rather do the windows. And if you hate them, I’ll put everything back.”

Sarah laughed. “You go right ahead. And you have great taste, so don’t worry about whether or not I’m going to like them. I’m sure they’ll be great.”