Second Chance Girl

“Save me,” he said, then closed his eyes and leaned back against the headrest.

Carol laughed. “I suppose you asking me to save you is better than you offering Sophie to me.”

“I would if I thought you’d take her. She’s exhausting. She’s full of energy, curious about everything, won’t listen and is constantly begging for food. Other than that, it’s great.”

“Poor Mathias. Twenty-four hours down, only seven hundred and twenty to go.”

He groaned. “I’ll never make it.”

“Sure you will.” She reached out and rubbed Sophie’s soft ears. The adorable beagle gave her a quick kiss, then wagged her tail as if asking where they were going next.

“Would it help if I drove you home?” Carol asked.

Mathias looked at her. “Yes, please. And if you could take Sophie off my hands, that would be even better.”

“Not happening.”

“Fine.” He closed the door and fastened his seat belt. “Then stay for dinner. I’m going to barbecue steaks. You’ll have to watch yours, though. As I learned at lunch, a turned back is an invitation. Someone stole my chicken burrito. I don’t want to imagine what I’ll be picking up in the morning, after she does her business.”

Dinner with Mathias? She’d been in his house before, but never over for a meal. What was he—

She laughed. “You’re afraid to be alone with her!”

“Not afraid,” he corrected. “Cautious. There’s a difference.”

“Cluck, cluck, cluck.”

“Make chicken noises all you want, this is not an ordinary dog. She has strange powers and not all of them are used for good.”

Carol was still laughing when she pulled into Mathias’s drive.

He had one of the larger homes bordering the animal preserve. It had to be at least four thousand square feet, with views from every room and upscale finishes on every surface. She didn’t consider herself much of a cook, but even she got appliance envy every time she walked into his kitchen. The miles of counter space, the gorgeous cabinets, the massive, professional-size stove.

Carol put her bag on the table in the foyer and unlaced her boots. Mathias took off Sophie’s leash. The dog made a beeline for her water bowl and lapped away. Carol wasn’t sure how she did it, but somehow the dog got water on the floor, the wall and the nearby cabinets as she drank.

Mathias walked into the butler’s pantry and came out holding a bottle of Scotch. “What would you like? Wine? Something else?”

“Are you drinking yours with a straw?”

“I wish. But seeing as you’re here, I’ll use a glass.”

“I still have to drive home. I’ll say wine.”

“Red or white?”

“Red.”

He collected a bottle of merlot and opened it, then poured her a glass. They each settled on a sofa in his family room. Sophie looked between them before jumping up and joining Mathias. She lay down next to him, her paws delicately crossed.

“She’s adorable,” Carol said.

“She snores.”

She laughed. “Such pain.”

“I’m exhausted. How was your day?”

“Good.” She thought about the unexpected check. “My dad and uncle made a generous donation to Millie’s fund. Only three hundred and seventy-five thousand left.” She raised her eyebrows. “Feeling generous?”

“I’d say no problem but Sophie destroyed three weeks’ worth of work in about ten minutes today.”

She winced. “Did she really? I’m sorry.”

“You and me both. I had to bribe Natalie to look after her while I’m in the studio. I’m also looking for a dog walker to take her out a couple of times a day. She has to be kept busy so she’s tired when we get home. Otherwise God knows what trouble she’d get into.”

“Poor you.”

“Tell me about it. So three hundred and seventy-five thousand, huh?” He shifted his drink to his other hand and absently petted Sophie. “Too bad you can’t put Millie to work for some of the money. You know, get her in a movie or something. Do the animals get paid?”

“I believe they’re rented.”

“That’s harsh. You have a unique problem, I’ll admit it. You’re going to have to be creative to find your way out.” He frowned. “How did you get into looking after big animals?” The frown faded. “Or exotic cows, as I like to think of them.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“I know.”

She sighed. “You’re difficult.”

“I’m charming and you know it.”

Sadly, she did. “Violet and I were born in Connecticut and lived there until I was eight and she was six. Then our parents split up. Mom moved us to Manhattan while Dad took off for South Africa.”

“An unexpected choice.”

“He’d always been interested in animal welfare and had the opportunity to work on a large preserve. Violet and I visited every summer. It was very cool.”

She’d loved everything about the experience—the simple housing, the closeness with nature, the animals themselves. When it had been time to go back to New York, she’d started counting down the days until she could return.

“I can’t exactly see Violet loving it,” he said.

“You’re right. It wasn’t her thing. She would only stay for a few weeks, then head back to the States. But I never wanted to leave. I was allowed to hang out with all the adults working there. They let me ride along and help.” She smiled at the memories.

“So your dad moved back here and started the preserve?”

“Uh-huh. I finished college and joined him. He manages the business side of things and works with his brother. My team and I take care of our animals.”

“I don’t see a lot of your team members out at one in the morning, dealing with a sick cow.”

“Stop saying cow. I’d throw a pillow at you but I might hit Sophie.”

The beagle perked up when she heard her name and wagged her tail.

“Cheap talk,” Mathias said, then sipped his drink. “What happens after Millie gets her herd? Are you done collecting animals?”

“We’re going to have to make some decisions. We only have females. Eventually they’ll pass on, so we have to figure out what we want to do. Dad and I have been talking about offering a home for older circus animals, or getting a few males and starting a breeding program. We could look at helping out some of the zoos who want to separate herds for a period of time. Millie is the only species we have that’s endangered, but we could look at helping out with different at-risk species. There are a lot of options.”

Mathias stared at her. “You’re putting what I do in perspective. I make dishes.” He glanced at Sophie. “And you break them.”

“You create beautiful things. I take care of a few gazelles and a giraffe.”

“Still, impressive.”

The unexpected compliment made her want to squirm on her seat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m going to start the barbecue.” He rose. “Now, tell me, how do you like your, um, cow?”

He’d moved away from the sofa, so she tossed a pillow at him. He avoided it easily, then shook his head. “Violence is never the answer, Carol.”

“You can say that because you’ve never had to deal with anyone as annoying as yourself.”

“Millie would be very disappointed in your attitude.” He looked at Sophie. “We won’t tell her, will we?”

Sophie barked in agreement.

Carol sighed as she followed them both into the kitchen. Mathias was an interesting guy, she thought, watching him pull steaks out of the refrigerator. More than interesting. Funny and sexy. If only, she thought...then told herself to get real. She would have a lot more luck wishing for the three hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars she needed than wishing someone like him would notice someone like her. Plus a night with Mathias would simply be that—a night, while the money would mean friends for Millie. A far better use of her wishing time.

* * *

VIOLET SPENT NEARLY twenty-four hours alternating between hurt feelings and rage. Neither was especially conducive to sleep so she was up and showered before dawn. At seven, she got in her car and went by the donut place, then headed out to the preserve. With luck she would arrive just as Carol was finishing up with her charges.

She parked by the main barn. The morning was cool, the sky clear. As she watched several gazelles came bounding out and headed across the grass. A minute later she saw the ever stately Millie walking out to greet the day. Violet collected coffee and donuts, then went in search of her sister.

Carol was in her office, waiting for her computer to boot. Her eyes widened with surprise.

“Do you know what time it is?” she asked, her tone teasing. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I wish.” She offered one of the coffees, then set the box of donuts on the desk. Irritation and hurt and a dozen other emotions burned. “I’m so angry, I couldn’t sleep.”

Her sister immediately looked concerned. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yes. No. I guess. I just...” She stomped her foot, wishing Ulrich’s head was in the vicinity of her shoe. “For the record, English dukes are stupid. Especially Ulrich.” She collapsed into a chair and groaned. “I hate him. No, I disdain him. He’s loathsome.”

“Okay, tell me who he is so I can hate him, too.”

“You know I get buttons from all over the world,” Violet began. “I got started when I was in England like twelve years ago.”

“Nana Winifred,” Carol said. “The dowager duchess of...” Her voice trailed off as her eyes widened. “His mother?”

“Grandmother. And she’s not the problem. I buy and sell buttons. That’s what I do. It’s how I make my living. But does he know that? No. Instead of asking anything, he waltzed into my store with his prissy accent and accused me of stealing!”

Violet briefly explained what had happened. “He threatened me, if you can believe it.”

“What a jerk. Do you need to talk to a lawyer or something?”

“I don’t think so. I have records of all my purchases. I didn’t steal anything. As for taking advantage of his grandmother, I buy everything sight unseen. If anyone is at risk, it’s me. He’s a pinhead.” She sipped her coffee. “Good-looking, but still. That’s no excuse.”

She thought about everything he’d said. “He didn’t talk to me first, you know. He just accused. There was no thought that he might have been wrong. And to think that all this time, I’d liked him.”

Carol’s brows drew together. “Okay, you’ve lost me again. What?”

“That summer when Mom took me to England and you stayed with Dad, that’s when I met Ulrich. He was four years older and I thought he was so sophisticated and handsome. There was a dance. He danced with me.” She didn’t mention the part about him telling her that she would grow up to be a beauty. That was too private to share, even with her sister who knew almost everything about her.

“I was a kid and he was nice at a time when not many guys were. I daydreamed.”

“Your handsome prince.” Carol’s tone was sympathetic. “Or in this case, your handsome duke.”

“Who turned out to be a complete jerk. I hate him.”

“You disdain him,” her sister corrected mildly.

“That, too. He ruined everything. It’s so unfair. I was minding my own business, and then suddenly, there he was, polluting my world.” Violet reached for a donut and took a bite. “I know he can’t hurt me. Nana Winifred is going to be furious when she finds out about this. I hope she slaps him.” The thought of the elderly woman backhanding Ulrich across his high cheekbones brightened her morning.

“You have quite the vindictive streak,” Carol said mildly. “I totally respect it and you. So you’re not going to do anything.”

“I’m not sure what I would do. Call his grandmother? That sounds like tattling. Plus it would break her heart and I don’t want that. She adores Ulrich.” Which meant the cliché of there being no accounting for taste was painfully true.

“What’s the next step?”

“Aside from whining to you?” Violet sighed. “There isn’t one. I’m only sorry I danced with him.” And liked it. That was the real kick in the gut. That she’d liked the dance and the man and she’d imagined oh so many wonderful things about him.

“But if I ever see him again, I’m going to tell him he’s a complete and total jerk.”

“You go girl,” Carol told her.

* * *

MATHIAS GLANCED AT the clock and knew he didn’t have much time. He put down the small glass piece he was working and pulled off his protective goggles. It was nearly three in the afternoon, so approaching eight in the morning outside of Shanghai. Maya, his brother Del’s fiancée, had emailed him requesting a video call. They’d settled on a date and time, although Mathias honestly had no idea why she wanted to speak to him. He barely knew Maya.

She’d been his brother’s girlfriend back in high school, but he hadn’t bothered paying attention to much beyond his own life. By the time she’d returned to Fool’s Gold a few years ago, he and Ronan had already left their little hometown in the California mountains. They’d met a couple of times since, but that was it. So what did she want with him now?

A question that would be answered soon enough, he told himself just as his screen shifted to show an incoming call.

He hit the video button and Maya appeared on his screen. She was a pretty, green-eyed blonde wearing an oversize T-shirt and holding a mug.

“Morning,” she said with a smile.

“Afternoon. How’s China?”

“Good. How are the States?”

“Also good.”

Maya grinned. “I hear you’re taking care of Sophie for a month. How’s that going?”

He grimaced. “Let’s not talk about that. I’ve had to bribe Natalie, our office manager, to keep her in her office while I work. That dog has an uncanny ability to find the most expensive piece of glass with her tail and destroy it.”

“Yikes. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. I’ve hired a dog walker in a futile attempt to tire her out. She gets two walks a day. She sleeps well, but loudly.” He thought about mentioning the massive piles of poop, but decided against it. Maya was probably still on her first cup of coffee.

“You’re being domesticated,” Maya teased. “By the time Elaine’s back, you won’t want to let Sophie go.”

Mathias leaned back in his chair. “Right. That’s going to happen.”

She laughed. “Okay, maybe you won’t be sobbing, but I suspect she’ll find her way into your heart.” She took a sip of her drink. “So you’re probably wondering what I wanted to talk about.”

“I am.”

“It’s the wedding. You know it’s at the end of the month, right?”

“I received your charming email invite, so yes.”

“Good. I was hoping you could help with that.”

“I don’t understand. With what?”

“The wedding. Planning it, really.”

Mathias nearly came out of his chair. “You’re getting married in less than four weeks and you haven’t planned your wedding?”

He was aware that he sounded painfully like a woman, but even he knew that weddings took months to pull together. There were a million details about which he knew nothing.

“I have my dress,” Maya said helpfully. “That’s something. Originally Del and I were just going to do the justice of the peace thing but we’ve been talking and we want a traditional wedding. There’s a business in town—Weddings Out of the Box. I’ve spoken with the owner. Do you know her? Is she the one engaged to Nick?”

“She is and you should be talking to her, not me.”

“I’m going to but I was hoping you would go to the meetings, too. Be my representative in person.”

Mathias wanted to writhe in his chair. He wanted to stand up and say there was no way in hell. “Why not ask Nick?”

“Because he and Pallas are a couple and he won’t tell her if I don’t like something. Mathias, please? I’ve seen your work and I like how you create. Your pieces make me feel really good inside. I want that for my wedding.”

Was there a conspiracy? First his mother and now his future sister-in-law, both wanting something from him. Something he didn’t want to give. Something he should absolutely refuse.

“Please,” Maya said quietly. “I need you, Mathias. I need your help to make this happen.”

He swore under his breath before glaring at her. “You’re going to owe me, Maya.”

She laughed and clapped her hands together. “Forever, I swear. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I have the first meeting set up already. I’ll email you the information. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sell it somewhere else. I meant what I said—you owe me.”

She blew him a kiss and hung up. Mathias stared at the screen before closing the program and reaching for his cell phone.

“Hello?”

Some people’s voices were distorted over the phone, but not Carol’s. That combination of slightly sexy, slightly sweet came through perfectly. Mathias told himself to ignore the automatic tightening in his gut.

“It’s Mathias. I need your help.”

“Don’t you want to start by asking about my day? Or commenting on the weather?”

“Not really.”

“You’re such a guy. Fine. What’s wrong? And if it’s about Sophie, I’m going to tell you to suck it up. She’s a sweet little girl and you are more than capable of taking care of her.”

“Thanks for your undying emotional support,” he said drily. “I’m calling because my future sister-in-law wants me to help plan her wedding. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I would be a disaster and I need you to help me.”

“Shouldn’t you call Violet? She’s the one with the style sense.”

“I don’t want Violet.”

He spoke without thinking and then was stuck with the truth hanging out there—flapping in the breeze. He wanted Carol, he had for a long time. Things being what they were, he wasn’t going to do anything about the wanting, but helping him with the wedding wasn’t that. It was...

He realized he’d called Carol without a second thought, without considering who would be better. Why was that? Maybe because of the dreams, or maybe because...

“My sister will be heartbroken.” Carol sounded more cheerful than upset, then she laughed. “Well, crap. I just realized you’re asking me because I’m a woman. Just to be clear, being female doesn’t mean we’re all born with an innate ability to plan a wedding.”

“Sure you are. It comes with having breasts.”

“You’re the most annoying man on the planet.”

“So that’s a yes?”

She sighed. “Yes, Mathias, I will help you plan the wedding. I assume it’s in town?”

“At Weddings Out of the Box.”

“Perfect! Pallas will make sure we don’t mess up.”

“I’ll let you know when we have our first meeting. And thanks, Carol.”

“You’re welcome.”

She hung up. He did the same and left his phone on the desk before walking back to the glass piece he’d been working on. The small giraffe was maybe eight inches tall. The features were all there, but the little statue was static. He wanted movement and didn’t know how to make that happen.

Nick walked into the studio. “Hey. Didn’t you have a call with Maya?”

“She wants me to help with her wedding.”

Nick grinned. “Better you than me.”

“Apparently. Obviously I’m the one she trusts.”

“Or she figures you’re the soft touch.”

“Either way, I’m the good brother.”

Mathias studied the giraffe before tossing it into the recycling bin where it shattered into dozens of pieces.

“You gotta stop doing that,” Nick told him. “It was good.”

“Not good enough. If it’s not perfect, it can’t live.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Nick asked.

Mathias ignored the question.

“What about those?” His brother pointed to the shelves filled with imperfect pieces. Plates that weren’t exactly round or vases that sloped on one side. “They’re still alive.”

“Not alive, just not worth destroying.” They were pedestrian and didn’t matter. The everyday stuff was simply how he made his living. It wasn’t art.

Natalie came into the studio with Sophie on her leash. “I have to go run some errands,” she said, crossing to him. “You’re going to have to deal with your dog.”

“She’s not my dog,” Mathias muttered, only to have Sophie shoot him a wounded look. As if she’d understood what he was saying.

He took the leash. Sophie turned her back to him. He sighed. Why was this happening to him? First the dog and now a wedding. It wasn’t fair.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I’m sorry. You’re a good girl.”

Sophie still kept her back to him.

Giving in to the inevitable, Mathias opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a bag of dog treats. Sophie spun to face him, her ears forward, her tail going about eighty miles an hour.

“Apparently you’re forgiven,” Nick pointed out. “It’s good to see you finally in a relationship.”

CHAPTER FIVE

THE SWEET DREAMS INN off of Eternal Drive was the stuff of nightmares—at least for Ulrich. His plan had been to leave Happily Inc after he concluded his business with Violet Lund—thief and swindler—return to Los Angeles and catch a flight back to England. Only nothing had gone according to plan.

His meeting with the surprisingly attractive and very animated woman had left him feeling both awkward and confused. She had been able to produce a bill of sale for the buttons his grandmother had sent, and buttons were not what had been stolen from the house. Was she not the thief and if not her, then who?

Ulrich had driven to LA only to reschedule his flight and return to Happily Inc. The Sweet Dreams Inn had been the first hotel he’d seen, so he’d pulled in. Too late he’d discovered it was a themed hotel with each of the rooms representing something ridiculous. For reasons not completely clear to him, he’d agreed to a couple of nights in the Drive-In Room, which was how he found himself with a mattress fit into a red, 1959 Cadillac convertible, a television the size of a movie screen and a sitting room decorated like a concession stand. Even he had to admit the car was beautiful—with big fins and white-walled tires. Still, it wasn’t where one expected to sleep. Regardless of the strange surroundings, the Wi-Fi was excellent and the kitchen delivered meals to his room.

Ulrich had spent nearly a day researching Violet Lund and antique buttons only to come to the conclusion that it was more than possible that she had been telling the truth. There was money to be made in the world of buttons. Even more troubling, it seemed Miss Violet Lund was nothing more than a very honest shopkeeper.

She had no criminal record, no trouble with the IRS, not even a ticket. He’d used several online sites to investigate her and she’d come back annoyingly normal and law-abiding. How could he have been so wrong?

He was never wrong—he made it a point to be sure of things. He’d only been seriously fooled once in his life and that had been by his ex-wife, Penelope. In that case, the deception had been deliberate—at least on her part. Thinking about that didn’t help him at all, and he mentally turned his back on his former wife. The bigger question was what to do about Violet. He’d slept on the information, then had woken up in the morning with no clear idea of what to do next.

After showering, he ordered breakfast and knew he had to come up with a plan—only he had no idea what it would be. He opened another file on his computer and reviewed the list of missing items provided to him by his housekeeper and his own investigation.

The trouble had started three months ago when Ulrich had ordered a complete inventory of the house, including the attics. The project had taken over a month and they’d discovered some truly wonderful pieces. But many things had also been missing.

The public rooms were closely monitored and protected, and the guests who stayed in the hotel wing didn’t have access to the private residence without an escort. The previous inventory had been conducted by his father, nearly five years before. Ulrich had no way of knowing what had been taken when. Or so he’d thought.

His grandmother’s new secretary had offered a possible explanation when she’d told him about the packages being sent to one Violet Lund in Happily Inc, California. He’d kept watch and had seen the last one mailed himself. He’d guessed on the delivery date and when it had aligned with his trip to Los Angeles, he’d decided to make a slight detour to confront the thief. All for naught.