She’s changed…but has he?

Skylar Gibson isn’t the rebellious teen she used to be. Aaron Hollister, on the other hand, is still the entitled rich kid who betrayed her. And if he thinks she’ll let his business plans threaten her town, well, he’d better think again. But her first priority is protecting her secret—their fourteen-year-old daughter.

When the truth comes out, Skylar is shocked by Aaron’s reaction. Could there be more to this golden boy than she’d thought? It’ll take more than a trip down memory lane to prove he’s changed….

“Don’t flatter yourself, Hollister.”

Skylar gave him a once-over, then continued speaking. “Gossip in Cooperton is like ivy and blackberry briars—it’s everywhere. You can’t get away from it.”

Aaron crossed his arms. “Maybe you should try harder.”

“Maybe you should remember how impressionable teenagers are.”

“Oh, right, you’re a fine one to talk, Skylar.”

She stared, wondering how he had the gall to say that. “As I recall, you’re the one who did the talking.”

He had the grace to look uncomfortable. She had to wonder…how much did he remember about the past? Was she just one of many girls who’d succumbed to his charm and good looks? If so, she probably was a stranger. Who knew how many of them he’d discarded like yesterday’s newspaper.

It was reassuring in a way; she didn’t actually want him remembering too much.

Dear Reader,

While on a vacation hike along the ocean, I began thinking about how children would be affected by a playboy father infamous for marrying and divorcing on a regular basis. Would they follow in his footsteps? Would they ever want to get married themselves? What sort of people would they be? Thus, Those Hollister Boys were born, sons of Sullivan Spencer “Spence” Hollister, known in the tabloids as “S.S. Hollister, the man with an ex-wife in every port.” Spence has children and ex-wives all over the world and is a hedonist who survives on charm and an enormous fortune.

And who better to team with Spence’s marriage-wary eldest son than a feisty redhead? I love writing strong-willed heroines, and Skylar Gibson is one of my favorites. Aaron and Skylar have a history together, including a teenage daughter he knows nothing about. Or does he?

Classic Movie Alert: If you love old movies the way I do, take a look at Hobson’s Choice (1954), directed by David Lean and set in Victorian England. Starring Charles Laughton, Brenda De Banzie and John Mills, this romantic comedy is about another strong-willed woman who determinedly makes her own future.

I hope you have fun reading Winning Over Skylar, the first book in my series Those Hollister Boys. I enjoy hearing from readers and can be contacted c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, ON M3B 3K9, Canada.

Wishing you all the best,

Julianna Morris

Winning Over Skylar

Julianna Morris

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

JULIANNA MORRIS has an offbeat sense of humor that frequently gets her in trouble. She has also been accused of being interested in everything. Her interests range from oceanography and photography to traveling, antiquing, painting, walking on the beach and reading (mysteries and most other fiction and nonfiction). Julianna loves cats of all shapes and sizes. Her family’s feline companion is named Merlin, and like his namesake, Merlin is an alchemist—he can transform the house into a disaster in nothing flat. And since he shares the premises with a writer, it’s interesting to note that he is particularly fond of knocking books onto the floor.

MILLS & BOON

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To the memory of my wonderful Uncle Don who put marriage, family and church first in his life. When I think of you, I always see the smile on your face.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Extract

Prologue

EIGHTEEN-YEAR-OLD Skylar Naples held the blanket-wrapped infant in her arms and stared down at the tiny, scrunched-up face.

Holy cow.

This was her kid.

She winced as she shifted in the hospital bed. Giving birth sucked, but the result was kind of awesome.

“I’ll try to be a good mom,” she said. “Honest.”

The baby yawned and closed her eyes. She’d have to be fed again soon, and Skylar felt a twinge of worry. There were so many things a baby needed—doctors, food, clothes...roller skates. She’d never had roller skates herself, but her daughter was going to have them. She wanted her kid to have everything she’d never had. It wouldn’t be easy to do it working as a cashier at a hamburger stand, no matter how nice the owners were being to her.

Still, she’d have to find a way.

Mr. and Mrs. Gibson had thrown her a baby shower, so she had some stuff to start. She’d also picked up things at garage sales. She hadn’t liked doing it at first, but Mrs. Gibson had said that babies and toddlers grew so fast they didn’t have time to wear clothes out, so she may as well get them secondhand for a while.

Skylar carefully adjusted the bundle in her arms. She was renting a room from an older lady who’d offered to watch the baby in exchange for yard work and housecleaning. Mrs. Bealer was sweet and kind and a Sunday school teacher at her church, so it should be okay to trust her. Hopefully. A fierce protectiveness had filled Skylar the moment she first saw that tiny red face; she wasn’t sure she trusted anyone with her child.

“Karin Grace is Mrs. Gibson’s name,” Skylar whispered. “I like it. So if you don’t object, that’s what I’ll call you. Only she goes by Grace, and we’ll use Karin. Okay?”

The baby’s mouth worked sleepily. It might be silly to ask, but Skylar didn’t know much about being a mother and a name was awfully important.

“Karin,” she said, to see how it felt on her tongue.

The baby’s eyes opened and looked at her. It seemed like a good sign.

Skylar rested her head on the pillow and continued making plans. She’d have to do this alone. She didn’t want anything to do with her own messed-up parents or Karin’s father.

Her eyelids drooped. She was so tired. Her last thought before drifting off was that she wished she’d met Jimmie Gibson before she’d gotten herself in trouble and that Karin was his daughter.

* * *

SKYLAR WOKE WITH a start.

The baby.

She panicked before realizing her daughter was still in her arms, even though she’d fallen asleep holding her. Jeez, at the very least she should have put Karin on the bed first.

“Hello, hello,” called a voice from the door.

At first the only thing visible was a huge bunch of balloons, and then she saw Mr. and Mrs. Gibson...and Jimmie.

“Hi,” she said awkwardly. Jimmie had been so sweet to her since she’d moved to Trident to work for his parents, but now the baby was here and the whole thing was much more real than before.

Jimmie grinned merrily and her awkwardness disappeared. “Hey, Sky. You look great.”

He put a bouquet of flowers on the bedside table and tied the balloons to the chair in the corner. His parents piled gift bags on the end of the bed, but when Skylar tried to tell them they’d given her too much already, Mr. Gibson waved her concern away.

“Nonsense. Just a few small items.” He pulled a toy koala bear from his pocket. “Let’s see your big production,” he said. “I’ve been waiting months to meet her.”

“Me, too,” Jimmie and Mrs. Gibson chimed in unison. They crowded around and made cooing sounds as she pulled the blanket away from Karin’s face.

“May I hold her?” asked Mrs. Gibson.

Skylar nodded and watched as the three of them inspected Karin, counting fingers and toes and calling her the prettiest little girl they’d ever seen. Her eyes stung, and a funny sensation came into her throat. She hadn’t known there could be people like the Gibsons.

She’d grown up in a neighboring town, and all her life she’d been the daughter of “that drunken Naples couple.” They were the family that everyone detested, with weeds and trash and broken-down cars surrounding their shabby house. Once she’d planted a flower bed, but her father had stomped it down in a whiskey-soaked rage, knocking her halfway across the yard when she tried to stop him.

“Sky, have you decided on a name?” Jimmie asked.

“Karin Grace, if it’s okay with you, ma’am,” she said quickly, looking at Mrs. Gibson.

Mrs. Gibson blushed pink. “Oh, my... I’d be honored. Imagine having this lovely child named after me.”

Mr. Gibson beamed and seemed pleased, too.

As for Jimmie...he smiled and squeezed her hand. If Skylar hadn’t known better, she’d have thought he liked her as a girl, and not just as a friend. But it was dumb to get her hopes up. Jimmie had lots of girlfriends. He didn’t need one who already had a baby.

CHAPTER ONE

“I’LL HELP, MRS. GIBSON,” said Melanie Hollister as Skylar carried a bucket of soapy water to the eating area outside the hamburger stand.

“Me, too, Mom,” Karin added.

Skylar hid a smile. “Thanks, but study comes first.” She didn’t have any illusions—the girls were doing their geometry homework. According to Karin they had a bunch of “dumb-ass postulates” to learn and an equally “lame-o” set of problems to solve. They’d do anything to get out of the assignment, even scrub dried ketchup from tables and benches.

Well...Skylar looked at Melanie and changed her mind. The teenager was solemn, sincere and eager to please—she probably did want to help. She was a junior and high schoolers could be cruel to younger students, yet the two girls had formed a close bond since Melanie’s arrival in Cooperton, despite their age difference. Melanie had turned sixteen in August, and Karin would soon be fourteen, but they were in several classes together because Karin was in an accelerated program, a year ahead of her classmates, while her new friend had fallen behind from having moved around so often.

If Melanie hadn’t been a Hollister, Skylar would have been pleased they were friends. Thinking of which, a black Mercedes glided to a stop in front of the hamburger stand. It gleamed, without a speck of dirt daring to mar its perfection—a sharp contrast to her old pickup truck. She couldn’t remember the last time it had been washed...probably before her husband’s accident.

Skylar swallowed.

Actually, she knew exactly the last time it had been washed and waxed...the day Jimmie had died. He’d waxed both of their trucks that morning. The deep stab of loss was duller now, but it still hurt that he was gone. They were supposed to grow old together, and for months the sorrow and unfairness of it had kept her awake at night. The grief counselor had insisted it was anger at Jimmie for dying. Okay, maybe she was a little angry for a while, but it hadn’t lasted. Mostly she was angry with the driver of that 18-wheeler for running a stop sign, not her husband for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Uh-oh.”

The gloomy voice broke into Skylar’s dark thoughts. The girls were looking apprehensively at the Mercedes.

Aaron Andrew Hollister, or “Randy Andy” as he was sometimes called in high school, climbed out with a frown. “Melanie, I thought you were studying at the library this afternoon.”

“We went already.” She pointed to the pile of books next to her. “And Karin has some of mine in her bag ’cause there were more than I could carry. Don’t worry. Mrs. Gibson is taking me home. It won’t be long because we don’t want to miss the baseball game.”

“You already went to the library? School only let out an hour ago.” His tone strongly suggested that she hadn’t told the truth in the first place. “Your mother wants you to do better in your classes. She hopes your stay in California will make a difference, and you can catch up.”

“Yeah. She always says stuff like that when she dumps me somewhere.” The teen bit her lip, and Skylar could see the resentment in her eyes. The kid had been left with her half brother while her mother was off traveling the world with her second husband, or whatever it was the indolent rich did with their time.

“You weren’t dumped here.” Aaron’s protest rang hollow. By all accounts, Melanie had lived with a dozen or more different relatives and friends of her mother, rarely finishing the year in the same school. That’s how the Hollisters approached childrearing—as if it was someone else’s responsibility. But leaving her with Aaron? Oh, puleeze. That was scraping the bottom of the barrel.

“I don’t care what you call it,” Melanie muttered. It hadn’t taken long for her to transform into a sullen teenager with a chip on her shoulder. “You didn’t want to come here, either.”

His expression froze. “Our situations aren’t the same.”

Skylar perked up her ears. Aaron hadn’t wanted to come back to Cooperton? That wouldn’t surprise her; he used to be contemptuous of small towns and the people in them. Unfortunately for Aaron, his job at Cooper Industries was an inherited responsibility. He was the only Cooper grandchild—his mother, Celina Cooper Morgan, hadn’t had more children after her divorce from S. S. Hollister, so Aaron was always expected to take over one day.

That was something Skylar didn’t want for Karin. Granted, the Gibson Nibble Nook wasn’t a huge company like Cooper Industries, but her daughter would have choices that didn’t require slicing onions and flipping hamburgers. It wasn’t a legacy; they could sell the place when the time came.

Melanie closed her geometry book with a snap. “I know you hate being here, Aaron. I heard you tell—”

“Melanie, we don’t air our private business in front of strangers,” he interrupted.

Strangers?

Skylar wanted to smack him. They were far from strangers. As much as she’d like to forget sleeping with Aaron over fourteen years ago, she couldn’t. And if that wasn’t enough, he’d bragged to his buddies about nailing her. After that, every guy in school thought she was an easy target. She’d already had a bad reputation, but it hit rock bottom when Aaron opened his big mouth.

Funny, she’d given Aaron little conscious thought in years, but now that Melanie was friends with Karin, she was getting daily reminders.

“They’re just studying,” Skylar said, trying to stay calm.

Fair was fair. Melanie was doing her geometry homework, not joyriding. Besides, the hamburger stand was only open for breakfast and lunch. The Nibble Nook intentionally closed at the same time the high school let out for the day; otherwise they could have a crowd of teenagers until late every afternoon. Still, she couldn’t deny that a few farmworkers and other customers often arrived near closing and lingered over their meals.

She and Jimmie had discussed keeping the Nook open longer, but this way they’d had a better family life. It was the same decision his parents had made when they were running both the Nibble Nook and the Nibble Nook Too in Trident, where Skylar had gone to get a job when she’d learned she was pregnant. She sure couldn’t have hung around Cooperton, where people knew her; it was hard enough returning as a married woman.

Aaron shot Skylar a cool look.

He’d been attractive in high school with his dark brown hair and eyes. Now he was downright gorgeous. Luckily she was immune—she knew his handsome exterior concealed a jackass of major proportions. And in the four months since he’d taken over as the managing CEO of Cooper Industries, his employees were discovering what she’d learned as a stupid, reckless seventeen-year-old.

The employees disliked Aaron intensely—he treated them as potential criminals, the company cafeteria prices had tripled and the shortened lunch break wasn’t long enough to let them drive farther than the Nibble Nook for an inexpensive meal.

“Whether they’re studying or not isn’t the issue. And I’ll handle my own problems, if you don’t mind,” he growled.

Then stop handling them badly, she wanted to add, except antagonizing him wouldn’t be good for Melanie or Karin. She’d tried to remember that whenever he’d “visited” the Nibble Nook over the past several weeks.

A vision of Aaron’s face the first day he’d shown up at the Nibble Nook rose in Skylar’s mind, and she almost laughed; the Trident Hell Raisers had been there. They were a harmless group of retirees who’d formed a motorcycle club. Jimmie’s uncle Fred belonged, and they came over once a week to talk, drink coffee and try to look like tough, seasoned road warriors in a defiant “FU” to lost youth.

So, in drove Aaron Hollister in his shiny black Mercedes and expensive suit, horrified to see his sister surrounded by a motorcycle gang. He hadn’t asked questions, just rushed Melanie away so abruptly she’d forgotten her book bag. Skylar supposed she might have been concerned if their places were reversed, but really, the Trident Hell Raisers were retired accountants, doctors and firemen. Uncle Fred had irreverently nicknamed them the Bunion and Hemorrhoids Brigade.

Skylar could have reassured Aaron, but he was so damned obstinate and suspicious, he probably wouldn’t have believed her, anyhow. And he’d just argue that other bikers ate at the Nibble Nook, too. It was true enough, but they’d never caused trouble.

“We did go to the library,” Karin announced. “Mellie checked out a ton of books on President Lincoln for her history paper.”

“I didn’t ask you, young lady.”

Skylar’s temper flared at the stuffy censure in Aaron’s voice. He had a lot of nerve.

“Thank you, Karin,” she said, managing to keep her voice level. “Why don’t you and Melanie go get milk and apples for another snack? I moved the organic fruit to the left side of the fridge in the back storeroom.”

The teens exchanged glances.

“Uh, okay, Mom,” Karin agreed, apparently deciding not to attempt her usual argument in favor of chips and soda.

Once her daughter and Melanie disappeared into the Nibble Nook, Skylar rounded on Aaron, throwing caution to the wind. “If you’re upset that Melanie is coming here to study, then say so,” she hissed. “Don’t take it out on my kid. You implied that your sister lied about going to the library—Karin was just sticking up for her friend.”

Aaron directed his intent gaze at her. “She was impertinent.”

“Impertinent?” Skylar rolled her eyes. “La-di-dah, aren’t we being high-and-mighty? Karin was only impertinent if you’re a seventeenth-century land baron lording it over a peasant. Give me a break. This is the twenty-first century, and I own this property. If Karin had been rude, I’d be the first to chew her out.”

He clenched his jaw. “I didn’t accuse Melanie of lying, but she does have a history.”

“Who told you that—other relatives who wanted an excuse to ship her back to her mother? You might check the facts before making assumptions.” Skylar marched to the stack of books and opened one to the library’s date stamp. “See? The return date is two weeks from today. That’s the standard loan period for the Cooperton Public Library.”

“You knew that because you already looked.”

She slammed the book onto the table. “No, I didn’t. Karin isn’t an angel, but she’s a good kid and usually tells the truth. I’m betting Melanie is the same. I’m also betting that I’ve spent more time with your sister than you have since she got to Cooperton.”

“That’s outrageous. She lives with me.”

“Oh?” Skylar planted her hands on her hips. “You mean you eat dinner together every night? You check her homework? You go out to movies or take her for pizza? Do you even know what pizza she likes?”

A dull red flush crept up Aaron’s neck. “I’m hoping to spend more time with Melanie, but things have been hectic at the office. It’s critical to have a smooth transition from my grandfather’s leadership at Cooper Industries to my own. I was returning from a meeting when I saw she was here. But if I hadn’t seen her, I would have called to be sure she got home okay.”

“Or your executive assistant would have called. Her name is Peggy, right? I’ve heard Melanie say her name when they’re on the phone. That’s child care by proxy.”

She dunked her scrub brush into the bucket of sudsy water and slapped it on one of the tables. Aaron scowled and stepped back to avoid getting splashed. Good. His size didn’t intimidate her, but she didn’t enjoy being that close to an obnoxious jerk. Lord, he’d always had a gift for making her angry. Even on their few teenage dates they’d fought more than they kissed.

“I’m not delegating Melanie’s care,” he growled. “Peggy has experience from raising her own children and recommended a quick status check with Melanie after school, which she takes care of when I have other commitments. There’s nothing wrong with accepting her help.”

Skylar practically snorted. She finished scrubbing the brightly painted aluminum picnic table and hosed it down before starting on the next. Her workday didn’t stop for spoiled rich guys wearing pricey suits and fine Italian shoes. At least she assumed they were Italian; Aaron probably thought he was too good for regular American-made products.

She swept the remains of a French fry order into the trash. Cooper Industry employees weren’t tidy customers; they ate on the run because their pay was docked double if they weren’t back on time. That was another one of Aaron’s unpopular new policies. Honestly, they could barely get out of the company’s large parking lots in half an hour. Since he’d taken over management, the Nibble Nook’s profits, while consistently respectable, had skyrocketed. They were located just outside the main gate, provided easy access to and from the road and could handle a feeding frenzy during the staggered factory meal breaks.

“Peggy must fill in a lot,” she said after a moment. “I understand one of your commitments included a date with a former winner of the Miss California beauty pageant. In Sacramento. Did you get home at all that night?”

“Not that it’s your business, but that was before Melanie arrived. And I didn’t realize you were monitoring my social life.”

Skylar rubbed unnecessarily hard on a smear of dried mustard. If only it was Aaron’s nose.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Hollister. Gossip in Cooperton is like ivy and blackberry briars, it’s everywhere. You can’t get away from it.”

He crossed his arms. “Maybe you should try harder.”

“Maybe you should remember how impressionable teenagers are.”

“Oh, right, you’re a fine one to talk, Skylar.”

She stared, wondering how he had the gall to say any such thing. “As I recall, you’re the one who did the talking.”

He had the grace to look uncomfortable, or perhaps it was her imagination. She had to wonder...how much did he remember about the past? Was she just one of many girls who’d foolishly succumbed to his questionable charm and good looks? If so, she probably was a stranger. Who knew how many of them he’d discarded like yesterday’s newspaper.

It was reassuring in a way; she didn’t actually want him remembering too much.

* * *

MELANIE HID WITH Karin under the front counter of the hamburger stand, her eyes widening as the argument continued between Mrs. Gibson and Aaron. Eavesdropping wasn’t nice, but she couldn’t remember anyone defending her the way Karin’s mom was doing. It was worth getting in trouble to hear it.

“Hey, I told you Mom was an honest-to-gosh redhead,” Karin whispered. “Listen to her go.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You should have heard when she went off on the principal. The school didn’t want me taking classes with sophomores and juniors ’cause I’m not fourteen yet, and boy, did she get hot. I was waiting in the secretary’s office and wasn’t supposed to hear, but they were talking real loud.”

A stab of envy hit Melanie. She didn’t think her own mother would do something like that. Aaron had acted as if she was buying drugs instead of studying, and now Mrs. Gibson was sticking up for her. Aaron was just like the other family she’d stayed with, though what he’d said about hoping to spend more time together was nice—not that she wanted to hang around a brother she hardly knew.

“It must have been awesome.”

Karin shrugged. “I guess. And I’m glad they gave me the classes I wanted. My...my dad used to calm Mom down when she got upset. He’d tease her, saying she had a hair-trigger temper and knew how to use it. That made her laugh, though I’m not sure why it was funny.”

Her face was really sad, and Melanie didn’t envy her any longer. Karin’s dad was dead; he’d died in a car crash a year ago in August. Her father wasn’t around much, but he was alive.

“I know what you mean. It’s like when they say my mother has a credit card and knows how to use it,” she said quickly. “That’s totally lame. Everybody knows how to use a credit card.”

“Maybe it’s a gag from an old movie. Not a cool movie like Star Trek, but something else.” Karin wrapped her apple core in a napkin and tucked it into her pocket. The argument outside had ended, or gotten quieter, and they couldn’t hear it any longer. “Your brother won’t keep you from coming here, will he?”

“I hope not.” While Aaron hadn’t forbidden her to visit the Nibble Nook, Melanie knew he didn’t like it. “But he’s just my half brother. My mother is our father’s sixth wife. Um...his sixth ex-wife. So we hardly know each other,” she said hurriedly. Aaron was unpopular in Cooperton; she didn’t want anyone thinking they were close.

Karin blinked. “Ohmigod, your dad’s gotten married six times?”

Melanie cringed. People were curious about her father getting married and divorced so often. The newspapers called him “S. S. Hollister, the man with an ex-wife in every port.”

“More than six now. He gets married a bunch.”

“I’m never getting married,” Karin announced. “I’m going to be a scientist and find the cure to everything. Like colds. I hate colds.”

“Me, too,” Melanie agreed, relieved at the change of subject. She liked that Karin didn’t seem to know or care about the crap about her family.

It was strange to feel like an only child when she had four half brothers and three half sisters, all with the same father and different mothers. Well, except for April and Tamlyn, who were twins. You couldn’t talk about “our” parents, just my mother, and their mother, and our father. And some of her ex-stepmothers had kids by other marriages, making it even more tangled.

Of course, since Aaron was the oldest, he probably had it the worst. She wasn’t the youngest, though; Pierre was just seven and he was an obnoxious brat.

“We better get out of here.” Crouching, Karin crept back to the rear storage room to keep from being seen through the windows. She straightened and opened the refrigerator. “Do you want milk or anything?”

“No, thanks,” Melanie said absently. She was looking at a photograph on the wall over a small desk in the corner. It was Karin and Mrs. Gibson, a smiling man she knew was Karin’s dad and two older people. She pointed to them. “Are they your grandparents?”

“Yup. My dad’s mom and pop. They live a few miles away in Trident where they run the Nibble Nook Too. The Nibble Nook also used to be their hamburger stand, but they gave it to my dad when he married my mom.” She sat on the desk and swung her legs as she drank a carton of milk.

“What about your grandparents on your mom’s side?”

Karin shrugged. “She doesn’t like talking about them.”

That made Melanie feel better.

Maybe everybody had family who weren’t so terrific. And most of her brothers and sisters weren’t too embarrassing. There was Aaron, and after him, Jake and then Matthew. Jake and his mother were famous photographers, and Matt was a playboy, same as their father.

After Matt came the twins—April and Tamlyn were gorgeous like their Las Vegas showgirl mother, but didn’t act bigheaded. It would be fantabulous to have their figures. Melanie had never met Oona, who was closest to her in age, but she’d had to watch Pierre once when they were both visiting their father. The little monster. She was personally in favor of putting him in a cage and feeding him through a hole.

“Melanie,” called Aaron from outside the hamburger stand. “Get your books. I’m going home early.”

“Coming,” she called back, wrinkling her nose.

* * *

AARON TRIED TO make small talk with Melanie as he drove to the house, but her monosyllabic responses didn’t help.

One of his biggest challenges was figuring out how much freedom his sister should be given. Her mother had mentioned a need for strong discipline, which struck him as ironic since Eliza only saw her daughter a few weeks out of the year. How would she know? Still, while he didn’t want to treat Melanie the way he’d been treated as a kid, for her sake, he also didn’t want to make the wrong choices.

He sighed as he pulled into the driveway. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about going to the library, but when I saw you at that hamburger joint I figured you’d...”

“Lied,” she finished flatly.

“You know I don’t approve of the Nibble Nook.” He wasn’t prepared to put the place off-limits, but he did want to discourage her from going there. He’d had a brief fling with Skylar in high school, and she was hardly the influence his sister should have in her turbulent world—it was tough enough being one of S. S. Hollister’s kids, a man who collected and discarded wives with casual speed. She certainly didn’t need a smart-mouthed, troublemaking high-school dropout as a role model.

Melanie released her seat belt. “Why don’t you approve?”

“Cooper Industry employees are the Nibble Nook’s main customers, and some of them don’t like the new rules I’ve had to make,” he said. It was a valid concern, just not the whole truth.

“Yeah, right.” She got out, slammed the car door as hard as possible and stomped toward the house, her heavy book bag slung over her shoulder and other books clutched in her arms.

“Leave the books. I’ll bring them,” he urged.

She didn’t stop and Aaron grimaced.

There was a shred of truth in Skylar’s accusations. Melanie needed more attention, but there just weren’t enough hours in the days. Take the house for example...the lawn needed mowing and the gardener had quit. There weren’t any other gardening service companies in town, and the local kids didn’t seem interested in earning money by doing yard work.

For that matter, the house was another complication he hadn’t anticipated. Originally he’d moved into an apartment over the company’s business offices, which had been used only once by his grandparents when they were remodeling the kitchen and bathrooms in their house. But when his former stepmother had asked him to take Melanie for the school year, he’d found something more suitable for a teenager.

His cell phone rang and he pulled it out. “Yeah?”

“This is Jim Browning, down at the plant,” said a vaguely familiar voice. “I got your number from Peggy in the main office. Mr. Cooper always wanted us to ring if there was a problem.”

Aaron let out a breath. “What can I do for you, Mr. Browning?”

The employee droned on, detailing a minor issue with the processor for boxing up one of their products, a type of flavored tortilla chip. Cooper Industries produced a wide variety of items, and Aaron reminded himself that making snack foods might not be the same as creating life-saving drugs, but they were important to the company.

“I understand,” Aaron finally broke in. “You’ve arranged for repairs and the boxes can be manually sealed in the meantime.”

“Er...yes, sir. I’m sorry I bothered you, but Mr. Cooper did insist....” The foreman’s words trailed off uncertainly.

Aaron drew a calming breath, realizing he’d probably been too abrupt. The people in Cooperton were chatty, while he wanted to get to the point and stop wasting time. “It’s fine. Your instructions may be modified in the future, but in the meantime, you’re following procedure. Thank you.”

He turned off the phone with relief. He’d left a lucrative CEO position in the computer industry when his eightysomething grandfather finally decided to retire, but he never expected it to be so tough. George Cooper had been an old-school manager, with every decision, large and small, going across his desk. Basically, the place was still being run like a small mom-and-pop shop, rather than a major business producing dozens of different convenience-food items. Responsibility needed to be spread among divisions, with midlevel managers taking the lead on day-to-day operations—except the company couldn’t afford that type of reorganization for a while.

Aaron dropped his keys in his pocket and walked into the house. His grandparents had halfheartedly offered to let him move in with them, but it wouldn’t have been good for Melanie. His sister wasn’t related to the Coopers except through their ex-son-in-law, and they weren’t the warmest people in the first place. He knew; he’d grown up with them. And no matter what Skylar thought about him, he refused to inflict their idea of hospitality on his sister. Even if he didn’t know what was best for a teenage girl, he wanted Melanie to be happy.

“Melanie?” he called. “What do you want for dinner?”

After a long minute she appeared at the top of the stairs and stared at him coolly. “You mean you’re asking?”

Oh, God.

Pain throbbed in his temples. She was usually very sweet and accommodating—almost too accommodating—but apparently he couldn’t say anything right at the moment. Not that Melanie didn’t have cause to be touchy—he’d royally stuck his foot in his mouth—but if this was what it meant to be a parent, you could keep it.

“Yes, I’m asking,” he said as calmly as possible.

“Whatever I want?”

Yeah, she could have whatever she wanted...as long as it came from a restaurant that delivered or had a take-out menu. He didn’t cook. Toast, oatmeal and coffee in the morning were the extent of his culinary skills.

“Within reason.”

Melanie lifted her chin. “I’ll take a chicken sandwich and sweet-potato fries from the Nibble Nook.”

“That isn’t within reason. You know the Nibble Nook is closed for the day.”

“Then I don’t care. I have geometry problems and an English assignment to finish.” She turned and disappeared.

The afternoon just kept getting better and better. Aaron arched his back, trying to release the tension. He really had to deal with the yard. The neighborhood association had written, complaining about the length of the grass. Why anybody minded, he didn’t know. This wasn’t the garden district of New Orleans, it was a little town that rolled up its sidewalks at night and on Sundays.

Despite his grandfather’s expectations that he would eventually take over one day, Aaron had never wanted to live in Cooperton again...and yet here he was. Of course, coming back would have been easier if George Cooper had retired before the business had fallen apart. Once Aaron got it viable again he’d have to evaluate whether he was going to stay, or consider other options.

Putting on jeans and a work shirt, Aaron went out to the garage. The rented house hadn’t come furnished, but he’d seen a lawn mower and had a couple of hours of daylight left to work.

Forty minutes later he was hot, sweaty, and his shoulders ached. He gazed perplexed at the mower that refused to start; he was a novice at cutting grass, but it shouldn’t be tough to figure out. The mower had gas, and he didn’t think it was terribly old. Yet the damn thing wouldn’t go. Maybe the gardening service used to bring their own equipment because this one was broken.

Frustrated, Aaron shoved the mower back into the garage and headed into the house. The service had told him they were overextended with customers and regretted terminating him as a client, but their regrets didn’t help him get the lawn mowed.

In the kitchen he leafed through a stack of menus. They hadn’t ordered pizza in over a week, and Mama Gianni’s also had a decent chicken Greek salad. Pizza from Vittorino’s Italiano was better, but they didn’t deliver except on weekends. He dialed Mama Gianni’s and ordered the Meat Lover’s special and a family-size salad. Yet as he hung up the phone, he heard Skylar’s voice in his head.

Do you even know what pizza she likes?

Shut up, Skylar, he ordered silently.

She hadn’t changed much since high school—she still had that gorgeous auburn hair and green eyes...and a mouth that wouldn’t quit. She’d sassed the teachers, cussed out the principal, gotten suspended more than once for breaking every rule in the book, and finally dropped out before graduation. It was ironic that a girl who’d skated through classes by the skin of her teeth was now diligently overseeing her kid’s homework. And she wondered why he questioned if she might be a bad influence.

Yet a part of him didn’t blame Skylar for being antagonistic. She’d represented a challenge when they were kids—his pals had dared him to nail her and he wasn’t proud of his teenage self for taking that dare, or for dropping her once he’d done it. No woman, young or old, appreciated being treated that way. It was also hypocritical to think her sexual activity in high school was any more questionable than his own.

When the food came, Aaron ran upstairs to tell Melanie. She was in front of the television, watching a baseball game. She didn’t look up, just nodded and said she’d come down after a while.

“Don’t you want to eat together?” The question had nothing to do with Skylar; he’d already thought they should share more meals. At the same time, he didn’t want to force anything on Melanie—until recently they’d been little more than casual acquaintances.

“I don’t care.”

I don’t care... How many times a day did he hear that from her? Good Lord, teenagers were impossible, and Aaron felt a fleeting sympathy for his grandparents. He wasn’t close to them, though his grandfather had supposedly “groomed” him to take over the company...mostly with lectures about the value of hard work. Nonetheless, it couldn’t have been easy to take on a resentful kid, tired of being shuffled between his divorced parents and other relatives. That was one of the reasons he’d agreed to have Melanie live with him for the year. He could have refused, but he knew what it was like to be a Ping-Pong ball in someone else’s battle of wills.

CHAPTER TWO

SKYLAR PULLED A casserole from the freezer and put it in the oven to heat. She liked cooking; she just didn’t enjoy it after spending hours over the Nibble Nook’s fryers—the volume of French fries and onion rings they went through never failed to astonish her. As the owner, she filled in wherever necessary, and today the fry cook had phoned in with a child-care problem.

Tiredly she pressed a hand to the aching small of her back. The long, hard days used to be more fun. Jimmie had made everything fun, no matter what they were doing.

The cat walked into the kitchen and stared at his empty bowl in dismay. He meowed plaintively.

“Karin?” she called. “Bennie has to be fed and his litter box scooped.”

“The first play-off game is on.”

“Then you’d better hurry,” Skylar said. “We’ve talked about this. You wanted a cat and he’s your responsibility.”

“But Mooommmm, I—”

“Now, Karin. He’s hungry.”

Karin stomped into the kitchen. “He isn’t mine, not really. Bennie always ends up with you in the morning. He’s supposed to sleep with me. It’s like I’m kryptonite or something.”

For an instant Skylar wished she could have a single evening free of teenage angst. “That’s because he keeps getting kicked off the bed. You thrash around and when he’s had enough, he goes someplace quieter.”

“I do not.”

“Trust me, I couldn’t keep a blanket on you, even as a baby. A professional soccer team doesn’t kick that much.”

Muttering under her breath, Karin poured food into the cat bowl and petted Bennie, despite her sulk. It wasn’t easy insisting she take care of her chores—she used to watch the baseball play-offs with her dad, and Skylar could see the weepy melancholy beneath her daughter’s defiant surface. The previous autumn Karin had sobbed straight through her favored team’s sweeping victory; hopefully this year wouldn’t be as bad.

“Here,” Skylar said. “I made a snack for you to eat during the game. And there’s caffeine-free cola in the fridge. I’ll bring dinner in when it’s ready.” Normally they ate meals at the table, but this wasn’t a normal night.

Karin brightened and took the bowl of fluffy buttered popcorn. “Gee, thanks, Mom.”

When Karin was back in the family room, Skylar sat at the kitchen table, feeling melancholy herself. She wasn’t a baseball fan, and it used to drive her crazy during the play-offs and World Series to have Jimmie and Karin riveted to the television. More than once, a game had gone into extra innings or there’d been a rain delay, and he’d let her stay up to the bitter end, even on a school night. When she fell asleep at school the next day, there would be the inevitable phone call from her teacher, who was always mollified by Jimmie’s abashed apology.

Skylar would give anything to have those days back.

Instead, she had Aaron Hollister and his sister and her temper getting her in trouble. She had to be more careful. Aaron hadn’t seemed interested in Karin in their encounters, but she couldn’t take any chances. She refused to think of him as Karin’s father. Jimmie was Karin’s dad. He’d soothed her as a teething baby, been scared stiff when she broke her collarbone in the fourth grade, saved for her education and welcomed each and every sticky child’s kiss and homemade Father’s Day card. Skylar ached at the memories—Jimmie romancing her as a new mother had been one of the biggest surprises of her life. They’d gotten married when Karin was four months old—he’d simply refused to see any reason they shouldn’t be together.

She glanced around the kitchen, shivering though it was warm. She’d had such a good life with Jimmie, so much better than she had ever expected to have. He’d loved Karin without reservation, and his family had accepted them both. The Gibsons must have been worried for their son in light of her youth and disreputable upbringing, but they hadn’t shown any hesitation. If Jimmie loved her, that was all they’d needed to know.

But Jimmie was gone now. If he were here, he would reassure her that Aaron or his family couldn’t possibly hope to get custody of Karin after such a long time. It was a worry that Skylar had harbored over the years, pushed into the background of their lives together, yet still there.

Bennie rubbed against her leg, purring madly, and she reached down to stroke him.

“Hey, boy,” she whispered. “You should go in with Karin. She needs you.”

He wandered toward the door. She could swear that he’d understood, though being a cat, he had to show his independence. Anybody who said felines were just selfish little beasts was wrong. No matter how egomaniacal, Bennie was fond of his humans. He just had to act as if everything was his idea—dogs were far more direct with their affections.

She got up and gathered a basket of laundry. The problem with housework was that it was never done, especially with a teenager in the house. Why her daughter had to change clothes ten times a day was beyond her. When she was that age she had been lucky to have four or five outfits, much less an overflowing closet.

Skylar winced. Back then, clothes were the least of her problems. The police and her teachers had labeled her incorrigible, and she’d come close to self-destructing. Her mother and father hadn’t noticed—they were too busy having public screaming matches and getting arrested for bashing in the windows of a neighbor’s car or some other drunken behavior. Skylar had both envied and resented the other kids for having nice, ordinary parents who didn’t knock them around, the way her parents did when they were tired of beating on each other.

Yet somehow, for reasons beyond understanding, she’d believed in the fairy-tale family, and Aaron’s family had seemed oh-so-respectable from the outside. That could be why she’d finally gone out with him. She hadn’t realized that being rich and publicly proper didn’t mean a thing. You could still be a louse.

The phone rang, and Skylar hurriedly started the washing machine before answering.

“It’s me, dear,” said her mother-in-law. “Are you busy?”

“Hi, Mom. No more than usual.” Skylar tucked the receiver under her chin as she folded clean towels. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. But Joe has the baseball game on, and I was wondering how it’s going over there.”

Skylar pictured her daughter’s stormy face. “The way you’d expect. Karin is watching, too.”

“I figured she would be.”

They were both silent for a long moment. Skylar wished she could tell Grace about her confrontation with Aaron, but she’d never discussed Karin’s biological father with her in-laws. Jimmie was the only one who’d known it was Aaron Hollister. Well...almost the only one.

It was odd. She would have sworn that nobody had guessed she was pregnant when she dropped out of school, and she’d deliberately moved to Trident to keep anyone from guessing. Yet S. S. Hollister had tried to give her payoff money after Karin was born. Skylar figured Aaron must have put it together and told his father—but if she was wrong and he didn’t know that Karin was his biological child, or had made himself forget, she’d rather keep it that way.

Payoff money...Skylar gritted her teeth. As if she’d gone to them for support or something else. She had ripped the check in half and told Sullivan Spencer “Spence” Hollister exactly what she thought of him and his son and where he could stuff his money. He’d simply laughed and walked away...forever, she hoped.

“Oh. Sorry, Grace, what was that? My mind was drifting,” she apologized, realizing her mother-in-law had broken the silence with a question.

“I just asked how Karin is doing in school so far. She was obsessed with her studies last year.”

“She’s no longer obsessed,” Skylar said drily. “This afternoon she informed me that her geometry problems are lame and aliens have replaced the principal with an android look-alike who drinks double espresso lattes all day and plots ways to kill students with boredom.”

Grace chuckled. “Good Lord. Aliens?”

“Yes. She’s now into Star Trek. Yesterday I found her practicing the Vulcan hand signal for ‘live long and prosper.’ At least I think that’s what it was, not something rude.”

“She wouldn’t have to practice that.”

Skylar instinctively looked at her fingers. No, you didn’t have to practice rude gestures. She’d begun flipping birds at her teachers in junior high school...a piece of information she’d prefer her daughter didn’t find out. Karin may have heard stories about her mother over the years, but since she hadn’t asked any questions, she probably wasn’t taking them seriously.

“When did this new interest in science fiction begin?” said Grace.

“That weekend she was sick and we couldn’t come for dinner. One of her friends loaned her a set of the Trek movies. Two days and half a bottle of cough syrup later, she was a fan.”

Grace chuckled again. “That’s our Karin. When she embraces something, it’s with all her heart.”

They chatted another few minutes before saying goodbye.

Skylar put the clean linens away and went to check on Karin in the family room. Things had been awfully quiet—no yelling at the pitcher, no declarations that the umpire needed glasses, and no shouts of triumph or despair.

“Hey,” she said. “What’s the score?”

“Five–zip, Dodgers.”

Skylar might not be a baseball fan, but she knew Karin’s three-word report meant the Los Angeles Dodgers were ahead. “Isn’t that the team you’re rooting for?”

Karin shrugged. She wasn’t crying, but she wasn’t happy, either. “It’s only the bottom of the fourth inning. They’ll probably blow it.”

Skylar let out a discouraged breath. Karin was a bright, enthusiastic kid...except when she was thinking about her dad being gone. “And they might win,” she reminded gently. “I’m sure Grandpa Joe would love to get on the phone with you.”

Karin didn’t respond, but she inched farther toward the end of the sectional couch. Right. She didn’t want the phone; she wanted someone sitting next to her...she just didn’t want to ask someone to sit next to her. Skylar thought of the dozen different tasks she should get done. It was a busy week, and she had a meeting on Thursday at City Hall that would take all evening.

She sat down. “Okay,” she said. “It’s time I learned more about baseball. Tell me what’s going on. The ones in white are the good guys, right?”

A small giggle escaped from Karin. “You’re really silly, Mom.”

* * *

AARON DROVE PAST the Nibble Nook the following morning and scowled. He had a huge job in front of him getting Cooper Industries back in shape, and Skylar wasn’t making it easier by befriending his sister. Well...her daughter had befriended Melanie, but it was essentially the same thing.

There were numerous cars at the hamburger stand, along with motorcycles and a couple of big rigs parked at the side of the road. They obviously served breakfast, and he had to admit, the scents wafting into his car were tempting. On the other hand, the presence of motorcycles and 18-wheelers was disturbing—the drivers of those vehicles weren’t necessarily a bad element, but there were no guarantees.

Almost as if taunting him, a tattooed cyclist got up from a table and strolled to his Harley. He spat on the ground and adjusted himself in his grubby-looking jeans before roaring away.

Wonderful.

Exactly the element an impressionable teenage girl needed.

Peggy was at her desk when he walked in, and he gave her a brief nod. He wasn’t thrilled with having Peggy as an assistant; she was efficient and responsible, but she was zealously loyal to his grandfather and likely calling him daily with reports on the company. Someone was informing George Cooper of the changes and new policies being made by his grandson, though he wasn’t showing a great deal of interest other than to say, “What’s good for Cooperton is good for Cooper Industries.”

Any warmth George possessed had mostly been shown to his employees and the town. He could be a genial man-of-the-people in the flash of an eye, but inside his own home he was cold and uptight. No wonder Aaron’s mother had rebelled—she’d fled Cooperton and done nothing but play ever since.

The phone rang before he reached his desk. It was Peggy, saying his father was on line one.

“Yes?” he said, punching the button.

“That’s a fine way to greet your old dad.” Spence Hollister was only “your old dad” when he wanted something.

“I don’t have time for games, Dad.” Aaron tucked the receiver under his chin and sorted through a stack of phone messages Peggy had left on his desk. A new phone system with voice mail had been installed months before, but he hadn’t decided whether his calls should continue to be screened by Peggy in a traditional executive style, or to take them himself.

“That’s always been your problem—you don’t enjoy life.”

“Some of us have a job. Why didn’t you call my cell phone?”

“I assumed you’d changed the number after moving to that Hicksville. You didn’t have to take over the Cooper company, son. For God’s sake, give it a decent burial and get out. Your mother never wanted to go back there—it’s the only thing we ever agreed on the entire time we were married.”

A headache stabbed Aaron’s temples. Much as he regretted giving up his lucrative position as CEO of a computer company, he couldn’t abandon Cooper Industries. He might have to give it a decent burial, but not until he’d done his best to keep it alive.

“What do you want, Dad?”

“I... Hang on. We’re having a spot of trouble with a champagne cork.”

A feminine laugh sounded in the background, and Aaron shook his head. His father was between wives, so his companion could be anyone from a London society deb to a belly dancer. Spence liked his ladies young, beautiful and endowed—and since he had an abundance of charm and wealth, they liked him, too.

“Sorry, son. I wanted to know if you’ll join my crew in next year’s America’s Cup race.”

“I haven’t been on your yacht since I was nineteen and foolishly took a semester off from college to train and compete.”

“Foolish? Nonsense. That was a damn good race—we won two of the heats, so I know you’re the key to the Sea Haven finally getting the trophy. Will you do it?”

Aaron practically snorted. Spence wasn’t into effort; he ran a yacht in the America’s Cup because he loved the publicity and being seen as a sportsman. He’d particularly reveled in the media coverage the year his eldest son was a crew member. On the other hand, Aaron was still fighting the dilettante image he’d earned.

“Not a chance, Dad.”

“But you can’t save that place. What’s the point of trying?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. By the way, Melanie is fine. I’m sure she’ll appreciate you asking,” Aaron said, his voice laced with irony.

None of S. S. Hollister’s kids had any illusions that he was especially concerned about them. You could be sure he didn’t even remember your name, and five minutes later he could make you feel as if you were the most important person in the world. As a kid, Aaron had craved the moments when his father focused on him and would have done almost anything to get his attention. Now he was mostly wary. When S.S. called, he wanted something, and it usually wasn’t to your benefit to give it to him.

“You would have let me know if Melanie had a problem,” Spence said easily. “Are you sure you won’t be a member of the Sea Haven’s crew? I’d make you skipper, but I’ve finally gotten Bill Driscoll to sign on and we have an ironclad contract. I do get to pick one crew member, and you’re the one I want.”

“Why don’t you ask Matt? He doesn’t have anything to do.” Aaron’s second brother was almost as much a playboy as their father, except he avoided serious relationships and was scrupulous about birth control. “Or Tamlyn or April or Oona?”

“Yachting isn’t their thing.”

Aaron snorted, suspecting his father had gone first to Matt and his three adult sisters before calling him. Spence wouldn’t have asked Jake, though. Even Spence knew his second son couldn’t be pried away from risking his neck in pursuit of the next great photograph—Jake’s photography was stunning, but his pictures weren’t taken in safe, convenient locales. It wasn’t any wonder that some people speculated whether Jake had a death wish.

“Yachting isn’t my thing, either, Dad. Give the choice back to Driscoll and let him win for you.”

“Ah, well. Let me know if Melanie wants anything. I’ll buy her a car as soon as she has her driver’s license.”

“No, you won’t,” Aaron insisted, a surge of adrenaline going through him. He did not want Melanie to have a car—he had good reason to know that teenagers did insane things when they were driving, and he had no desire to see his sister wrapped around a tree. She was going to have a top professional driving instructor and lots of practice before getting her own car was an option.

“Oh? I gave you a Mustang when you were sixteen. A sweet job. Just what a teenage boy needed to get girls.”

“And you gave me another when I was seventeen. I totaled the first one, remember?” Aaron knew it was a miracle he hadn’t killed himself when he’d spun out and slammed into a telephone pole—instead he’d gotten off with bruises and minor cuts. “Anyhow, Melanie is young for her age and I want her to have experience driving before she’s handed her own set of keys.”

“Fine, fine, just let me know when. Bye for now.” Spence didn’t sound upset—few things ruffled S. S. Hollister.

Aaron dropped the receiver in its cradle and looked around the office. He’d made a few modifications since returning to Cooperton, shifting the desk and adding file cabinets, but it remained furnished with his grandfather’s ponderous mahogany furniture and deep red carpet. Redecorating was out for a while though; other things were needed more.

On a sturdy new worktable by the window was his proposal for updating and expanding the factory. To finance the project he would have to sell some of the land the Cooper family had held for generations throughout Northern California, but he was convinced the company wouldn’t survive otherwise.

“Mr. Hollister?” Peggy said from the door. “The foreman in the tortilla chip division says there’s still a problem with the repairs he phoned you about yesterday. It seems a part in the machine is no longer replaceable—the company that used to make the equipment is now manufacturing air conditioners.”

“That’s what happens when you’re operating with antiques,” Aaron muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing. Have them assign additional employees to tape the boxes, then get the records on the equipment and special parts needed. I’ll research the matter.”

Peggy left, and Aaron tried to unclench his jaw. His grandfather hadn’t invested in significant capital improvements at Cooper Industries for almost three decades. The company needed so much, and here he was, spending time on an ancient machine that sealed boxes for shipping.

Perhaps if he got it taken care of quickly, he could get on with what he’d planned to do with his day. Three experts had reviewed the plans he’d worked up with an industrial engineer and now he needed to submit them to the Cooperton City Council for their approval—the town was so small they didn’t have a planning department. Besides, there was a zoning issue.

It was frustrating that elected officials, rather than trained professionals, would have a hand in deciding the future of Cooper Industries, but it shouldn’t be hard to get their support. After all, his company was the biggest employer in town.

* * *

“MELLIE, WASN’T THE game awesome?” Karin asked as they waited in line at the cafeteria to pay for their lunch. Her mom wasn’t crazy about the food the school served, but didn’t make her bring a sack lunch or anything. Thank God. Only the dorky kids ate sack lunches. It would be nice to eat at the Nibble Nook, but the school didn’t allow them to leave the grounds except with a parent or written permission.

“Yeah, but I’ve never watched baseball before,” Melanie confessed. She gave the cashier a fifty-dollar bill; the woman looked at it twice and glowered as she started counting out the change.

“How come?”

“I guess because I’ve moved around so much. A long time ago, before my mother got married again, one of her boyfriends was a football player, but I never knew what was happening when we went to his games. Baseball is easier.”

“I don’t get football, either, though some of the players are okay.” Karin nudged her friend, and they gazed longingly at Nick Jakowski as he talked to his friends across the room.

Nick was the yummiest guy in school and the captain of the football team. He was nice, too. He’d stopped the team from hazing a new boy who’d transferred from their biggest rival, Trident High, and he was friendly to freshmen, unlike most of the other seniors.

“Do you think he’s really going steady with Tiffany Baldwin?” Melanie said wistfully.

Tiffany was a cheerleader and thought she was, like, the most beautiful girl who’d ever lived. Most of the time she wasn’t too unbearable, except for an annoying, high-pitched laugh. And you couldn’t deny that she was pretty, with light gold hair and green eyes.

Karin sighed. “I don’t know. Susan Lightoller saw them kissing at the movies this summer, and Tory Wilson says they were holding hands at the Labor Day parade.”

“Oh.”

“But he wouldn’t let her share his ice cream at the carnival afterward,” Karin added, brightening at the recollection. “And Andrea Crane said that if they were French kissing a bunch he wouldn’t mind if she licked his cone.”

Melanie perked up as they took their trays to a table. “Your mom was great yesterday. She sure let Aaron have it.”

“You don’t like him, do you, Mellie?”

“Nobody does. Even so, I’m glad that I get to stay here this year.”

“Me, too.” Karin was still worried that Melanie’s brother would say she couldn’t come to the Nibble Nook. It was too weird being around her other friends now that her dad was dead; they wanted her to act as if everything was the same, and it wasn’t. Melanie never tried to get her to act different.

Karin poked the cheese enchiladas on her plate, no longer hungry. Sometimes almost a whole week would go by without her getting that awful knot in her tummy, or the horrid cold chills that came when she remembered her dad’s accident. Then she’d feel guilty, as if she was forgetting him.

“I wish we could eat lunch at the Nibble Nook,” Melanie said, taking a bite of her Mexican rice. “But this is better than the stuff at my last school.” She made a gagging gesture.

“Yeah, Mom makes awesome burgers.” Karin determinedly began eating.

Chapter Three

BY MIDAFTERNOON Aaron had located a small company that specialized in replacement parts for equipment no longer used by most manufacturers. It was a niche business that probably got most of their profits from outdated places such as Cooper Industries.

“We’ll send your order by overnight courier,” the representative assured. “But I’m surprised we have these parts in stock. Did you know they stopped making this model way back in the nineteen—”

“I know,” Aaron interrupted in a dour tone. “Thank you.”

He hung up and called the tortilla-chip division, letting them know they’d soon be back to full working order. Hiring someone to handle this sort of problem was becoming a priority; it still boggled his mind that his grandfather had gotten involved with the nitty-gritty of daily operations. The company needed midlevel managers to take responsibility and make decisions.

They also needed a whole new factory.

An email message came in from Peggy, telling him the next city council meeting was in a couple of days. Surprisingly, Peggy was willing to use the computer system he’d put into the executive office. The only other area where she’d shown support was his attempt to watch after Melanie. Thinking of which....

He stepped to the outer office.

“Peggy, are there any known problems with drugs or anything at the Nibble Nook? Some of the customers I’ve seen there look questionable, and I’ve heard that in small towns, a local hamburger stand can be a center for drug pushers and gang activity.”

Her perpetual frown deepened. “I’ve heard that, too, but the Gibson family built the Nibble Nook over thirty-five years ago, and their regular clientele largely come from Cooper Industries and other businesses. You wouldn’t have known Jimmie Gibson when you were a boy here—he was four or five years older and living in Trident by then. He’s gone now, killed in a car accident last year.”

So, Skylar was a widow.

While Aaron had noticed she wore a wedding ring, he hadn’t given it much thought. Mostly he had worried that being around Skylar and a busy, roadside hamburger stand were a bad idea for a shy, sheltered girl like Melanie. The issue of his employees eating there was valid, as well—they weren’t happy about his new rules and could take it out on her.

“You seem to know something about the Gibsons.”

“I should hope so. I’ve lived in Cooperton my whole life.”

Somehow, Peggy’s reply sounded critical, though Aaron didn’t know why. Did she think he should have returned to the company after college and graduate school, working as second fiddle to his grandfather for the past seven or eight years? It would have made him crazy, and he wouldn’t have learned anything about effective management.

“I... Yeah,” he muttered. “Does Mrs. Gibson have any boyfriends who hang out at the Nibble Nook?”

The thought of tattooed bikers or knife-toting gang members had kept him awake more than once after discovering where Melanie was spending so much time. Honestly, it was hard to see Skylar Naples as a solid, upstanding member of the community.... Skylar Gibson, he reminded himself. She’d made so much trouble as a teenager, even his grandparents had been aware of her, partly because she’d get drunk and do insane things like balancing on the roof of a moving car and flashing her breasts at city hall as one of her hoodlum buddies sped past.

She’ll end up dead. Or in prison, Sarah Cooper had grimly pronounced on more than one occasion. Then she’d shaken her finger at Aaron, We’re not letting it happen to you.

Honestly, they had acted as if he was the devil’s spawn. He understood they’d wanted him to turn out like them, rather than their flighty daughter, but why treat him as if he was one step away from reform school?

“Boyfriends?” Peggy sniffed, dragging Aaron’s attention back to the present. “Skylar had quite a reputation once, but I wouldn’t know about it now. I don’t gossip about my neighbors.”

“Of course.” It wasn’t the definitive answer Aaron would have preferred. “Your email said the city council is meeting on Thursday. Do you know how I get on their agenda?”

She shrugged. “Call city hall and ask, probably.”

Plainly, she wasn’t in a helpful mood. He hadn’t confided in her—it might be different if he’d hired Peggy himself, but he hadn’t; she had started in potato chips and moved up from there. Ironically, she could have been a valuable resource for him; instead she was a pain in the ass.

“Thank you,” Aaron muttered, returning to his office.

He found the listing for city hall in the small Cooperton phone book and dialed it.

“Mayor’s office,” a woman answered. “Micki Jo speaking.”

“This is Aaron Hollister, of Cooper Industries. I want to get on the agenda for the next city council meeting.”

“Oh. Mr. Hollister.” Micki Jo’s youthful voice suddenly went ten degrees south of freezing. “What is this regarding?”

Aaron hesitated. He didn’t want to discuss the matter with a secretary, especially since no one in Cooperton knew about his expansion plans yet. It would be best if he could speak to the council without them having any preconceptions.

“I’d like to make a presentation about Cooper Industries.”

“With that and four bucks I can get a macchiato latte,” she said drily. “The council has a full agenda this month, Mr. Hollister. I’ll need more details before adjustments can be made to the schedule.”

“I...uh, have some plans to discuss.”

“What kind of plans?”

Aaron kept his temper with an effort. “For modifications at the company.”

“What type of modifications?”

Great. He’d have to tell her—sounding too secretive would just make things worse. “Expansion plans. And there’s a property-use rezoning issue that needs approval.”

“Very well, I’ll let the mayor know. You’ll be notified if you’ve been added to the agenda.”

If he’d been added?

“But I—”

The phone clicked off before Aaron could say anything else and he stared at the receiver in disbelief. What had changed in Cooperton in the past fourteen years? The town used to fall all over themselves to make his grandfather happy.

* * *

ON THURSDAY AFTERNOON Skylar pushed a large box of burgers and fries across the counter, followed by a half dozen milk shakes. “Here you go, Fernando.”

“Gracias, Skylar. I promised my crew a meal and nothing would satisfy them except the Nibble Nook.”

“That’s a real compliment.”

Fernando Rodriguez leased farmland that grew a variety of organic produce, and he’d brought a truckload of his workers over for a late lunch. Although Skylar had closed for the day by the time they’d driven up, she hadn’t been able to turn him away.

She began counting out the cash registers while her remaining three employees cleared the counters.

“Greg, don’t you need to go?” she asked the fry cook, who also managed the Nibble Nook every Saturday for her. Greg was a single father with chronic child-care issues and couldn’t stay late as a rule, while his coworkers loved overtime.

“I’m okay for once. My sister doesn’t work this afternoon, so she can watch the twins a while longer.”

Skylar nodded, grateful she wouldn’t have to empty the oil from the fryers herself. Delays always seemed to happen on the days she had something to do in the evening—not that she had a social life aside from Karin’s school, church or city events.

Karin and Melanie arrived as she finished tallying the day’s receipts. They sat at a table near the farmworkers, and Skylar hoped that Aaron wouldn’t see them and stop. Fernando’s employees were a great bunch of guys, but she was sure their rough appearance would appall Mr. Big Shot Hollister.

Skylar tucked the deposit into a bank envelope and locked it in the sturdy safe they had installed several years before.

“Hey, girls,” she said, stepping outside. “How was school?”

Melanie smiled shyly. “It was okay, Mrs. Gibson, but we have a bunch of homework.”

“Every day they load it on,” Karin muttered. “The teachers don’t care about the baseball play-offs.”

“Your team isn’t playing tonight,” Skylar reminded her. “It’s a travel day for them.”

Her daughter stuck her nose in her book. She was in one of her moods. Living with her would be a challenge until the World Series was over, along with the constant reminders that her dad wasn’t there to share it with her.

Skylar went back to work, hurrying through her routine so she could get to her meeting on time. Melanie’s presence troubled her. The teen had continued to show up every day, despite her brother’s disapproval of the Nibble Nook, and the girls did their homework together. Of course, a fair amount of giggling and whispering accompanied the studying, but Skylar periodically checked their progress to be sure they were getting enough done. They also had plans for the weekend—something Aaron was certain to refuse to give his permission for.

Her employees left and she finished by scrubbing the picnic tables and watering the whiskey half barrels she used as planters. She and Jimmie had always taken pride in keeping the Nook clean, and she wasn’t going to let it slide.

“Melanie, do you need a ride home?” she called as she stowed the hose in an outside storage cabinet.

“If you’re not too busy, ma’am.”

“No problem. Hop in the truck.”

Skylar dropped Melanie off and got Karin settled at the house with dinner before racing to the bank, and then to City Hall. Jimmie had become a member of the city council years before and the mayor had “named” her as his replacement...without even asking. She’d wanted to strangle Chester, yet in a way it had been good for her. Still, she wouldn’t mind if she didn’t win the position in the next election.

“Did you hear?” twenty-four-year-old Micki Jo said as Skylar got a cup of coffee. It was hideous, but better than nothing at the end of a long day.

“Hear what?”

“Aaron Hollister is coming tonight to discuss expanding Cooper Industries.”

“He’ll probably increase mechanization so he can cut jobs,” Chester chimed in before Skylar could say anything. “And he’s going to stop buying local products. His purchasing agent told one of the farmers that Hollister claims it’s more efficient to purchase from large producers. I know because Mr. Okishida told Doctor McWilliams’s receptionist who told the pharmaceutical rep, and she mentioned it to our pastor.”

Skylar tried to sort out who had been told what on the rumor mill and decided it didn’t matter. “Maybe somebody heard the story wrong.”

“Hah. Do you know how many farmers it will affect? Not to mention their employees. Mr. Cooper would never do something like this, but Hollister is one of those big city CEOs who will do anything to turn a buck.”

“At least the organic farmers won’t be affected since Cooper Industries doesn’t buy from them, anyhow,” Micki Jo contributed.

The reminder didn’t appear to encourage the mayor. Chester lacked real skills to lead a town, but he was honest and kept trying. Most of the council were second-or third-generation members—Chester “Chet” Vittorino’s father had retired from the mayor’s job when he turned seventy, and since a Vittorino had been mayor in Cooperton for the past forty years, Chet had practically gotten the position by default. His real talent was making Italian food at his restaurant; his chicken cacciatore and brick-oven-baked pizza were the best in Northern California.

“The whole thing is a disaster,” Chet declared.

“That’s our mayor,” Hector Rodriguez murmured in Skylar’s ear. “A real source of optimism.”

Chet glared. His management skills sucked, but his hearing was excellent.

Doug Nakama rubbed the side of his face. “My wife works at Cooper. She used to love her job, and now she’s looking for something else. It’s not the pay—she says the whole atmosphere has changed.”

“I’ve heard how unpopular Aaron’s policies are,” Skylar admitted. “My customers are always complaining.”

The mayor perked up. “You call him Aaron? Then you know Mr. Hollister.”

“We went to school together, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but my daughter told me that his sister pals around with your Karin.”

Skylar tensed. She couldn’t afford to have anyone start speculating about her and Aaron...or Karin. “That doesn’t mean I’m friends with Melanie’s brother. In fact, he—”

“But you know him,” Hector interrupted. “That’s a stroke of luck. I admit this news about the local farmers is a worry.”

“I’m worried, too,” Skylar agreed. “But surely the whole thing is a misunderstanding. Cooper Industries has always needed producers from outside our area, in addition to the local farmers, because they don’t grow everything the factory needs.”

“Misunderstanding?” Chet made a disgusted sound. “Want to bet?”

No, Skylar didn’t want to bet. However hopeful she was trying to sound, it seemed exactly like Aaron to abandon the growers around Cooperton—he’d just call it good business.

The mayor called the meeting to order; his perpetually gloomy expression even gloomier than usual.

Aaron’s presentation had been tacked on to the end of the meeting agenda, and he arrived during their midsession break wearing a crisp business suit and carrying two large cases.

“Er...Skylar,” he said, looking startled. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a member of the city council.” She was pleased to see vague alarm in his brown eyes.

“They elected you?” He made it sound as if the town had elected a common prostitute.

“My husband was a member of the council. When he... Well, the mayor appointed me to fill his slot until the next regular election.”

“I see.” He looked around. “What’s going on? I was told to arrive at seven since you had a full agenda and that I would come last. Surely the meeting didn’t end early.”

“Nope, we’re on a break. Have some coffee. It’s okay, it won’t poison you—I didn’t make it,” she said innocently.

* * *

THERE WAS SOMETHING in Skylar’s tone that made Aaron suspicious, and when he tasted the coffee, he knew why. It was god-awful. Dishwater would have tasted better. Nevertheless, he pretended to enjoy the evil brew; he wouldn’t make friends by complaining about something so trivial.

The meeting was called to order again, and Aaron waited, surreptitiously looking around—the room was in good condition, but there were no signs of audio-visual equipment. Fortunately, he’d brought a computer and equipment of his own for the presentation. All he needed was an electrical outlet and a blank wall to project images onto.

The mayor droned on about various issues. Comments were invited and votes were taken. Over half the seats were filled with “interested” citizens, most of whom seemed bored by the business being handled. More drifted in until the room was full, though the chairs on either side of him remained empty.

Aaron mentally ran through his speech. He’d considered using a folksy approach, but had realized he would be lousy at it. Straightforward was best, though he didn’t want to paint too bleak a picture of how Cooper Industries was doing. That wouldn’t help the situation, either.

“Mr. Hollister is the final item on the agenda, Mr. Mayor,” announced Micki Jo. Apparently she acted as secretary for the city council, as well as the mayor’s office, though she didn’t look old enough to be out of high school.

A rumble came from the assembly, and there was a general shifting of chairs as people sat forward. An ominous sensation went through Aaron.

All of these people had come for his presentation?

How had it gotten around Cooperton so quickly? Even though it was to everyone’s benefit for Cooper Industries to expand, there were bound to be a few folks who didn’t understand, or had environmental concerns, or another ax to grind. He’d hoped to convince the city council before the public heard much about it.

Aaron glanced about and saw an array of unfriendly expressions. Not an auspicious beginning. He stood up. “Mr. Mayor, I just need a moment to set up my equipment,” he said. “I have graphics and other visuals to demonstrate what I want to accomplish.”

The mayor held up a hand. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Hollister. During the break we decided that Mrs. Gibson is the best council member to determine whether your expansion plans should be approved.”

Skylar jerked upright. “Mr. Mayor, I wasn’t part of any such discussion.”

“We had a sidebar while you were greeting Mr. Hollister.”

“Chet, I’m not—”

“You’ll have a chance to vote on the motion, Skylar.”

“But—”

“I move that Mrs. Gibson handle the matter before us, regarding the approval or rejection of plans to expand Cooper Industries,” interrupted one of the other men.

“I second the motion,” another councilman said hastily.

“Being moved and seconded, all in favor say ‘aye,’” announced the mayor.

A chorus of “ayes” followed, accompanied by an emphatic “no” from Skylar.

“The motion has passed. Mr. Hollister, Mrs. Gibson will be contacting you to discuss your proposal. All business now concluded, I adjourn this meeting.” The mayor rapidly gathered the papers in front of him and smiled genially at the assembled citizens. “Thank you to everyone for coming. It is important for the civic process to have the participation of its citizens.”

A weak round of applause went through the room.

Skylar looked as if she was in shock, and Aaron wasn’t far behind. This was even worse than having an elected council making the decision rather than a professional city planner—Skylar was that “wild Naples girl,” a high-school dropout. She didn’t have the education or background to make such a decision, and she was already pissed at him for telling Melanie he didn’t approve of her going to the hamburger stand. Granted, Skylar was running a successful business now, but that didn’t mean he wanted her having the say over his plans to restore Cooper Industries.

* * *

SKYLAR BOLTED FROM her chair and caught up with Chet and the other councilmen before they’d gotten to the exit.

“Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere,” she warned.

“It’s late, Skylar,” Hector protested. “My dog needs to be walked.”

“And I have a kid at home. Move,” she ordered, pointing toward the back chamber, a windowless room that was mostly used for storing the building’s holiday decorations.

Dragging their feet, they trudged through the door. She flipped the light switch and planted her hands on her hips, staring them down the way she’d stare down a troop of Girl Scouts who’d eaten too much sugar. “All right, I should have known something was up when you put your heads together during the break, but I never suspected this. I don’t have time to deal with Hollister’s expansion plans, or whatever they might be.”

“Whatever they might be? Then you don’t think expanding is what he really wants?” Doug asked uneasily.

“I have no idea, and I have no idea why you threw it in my lap,” Skylar snapped.

“Come on, Skylar, don’t be that way,” Chet placated. “You know him. Besides, you’re the only council member who doesn’t care about getting reelected. You saw how many people showed up to hear Hollister’s presentation—nobody attends our meetings, and look at tonight’s turnout.”

“That’s because you had Micki Jo call around with the news that Aaron Hollister was coming and what he wanted. You were trying to see if it was a political hot potato.”

Chet gave her a duh look he must have learned from his three children. “He’s really unpopular. If we give him what he wants and the town is mad about it, we’ll never get reelected.”

“And if I do it, nobody will eat at the Nibble Nook any longer,” Skylar said furiously. She didn’t actually think it was true, though she might lose a few customers.

“Nobody will stop going to the Nook,” Hector assured. “Your business largely depends on Cooper Industries, so everyone will understand what you decide is based on keeping the company healthy. The town will respect that, but they’ll think the rest of us are getting paid off, especially if jobs are lost. Come on, Skylar, everybody knows you’re not a politician.”

“Guys, surely you don’t believe anyone else will run against you?” she asked as a last-ditch effort. Aside from everything else, she believed the town’s big decisions should be made by more than one person. “Jimmie ran unopposed for his position in both elections. Nobody wants to be on the city council.”

Doug looked at her, shocked. “That isn’t true. Our families have always been on the council. It’s a...a civic duty, but we want voter support. It was when the population increased and we needed another member under the town charter that we added a slot. You have to handle Hollister for us, Skylar. Things are getting tense with what he’s been doing.”

“Yeah, city hall gets daily calls,” Chet muttered. “Everyone thinks he’s violated labor laws or some other regulation with his new policies. They don’t like it when we say another government office handles those questions or suggest they talk to the union.”

A shiver ran up Skylar’s spine. It wouldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t concerned about Karin. She might... Oh, who was she kidding? Anything to do with Aaron would be a pain. He’d gone from being a cocksure high-school jackass to an arrogant CEO jackass.

“Anyway, it’s been voted on and passed,” Chet said. “Maybe we should have spoken to you before making the motion, but it’s kind of... Well, it was something we all, that is...”

“You mean I would have been outnumbered, even if you’d talked to me ahead of time, so why talk to me?” Skylar said flatly. “The way you didn’t ask when you appointed me to Jimmie’s job?”

Chet at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

“You owe me a large Vittorino’s Italian pizza with the works,” she told him. “Bread sticks, garlic sauce, the whole thing. And that’s just to start.”

“Sure, sure. Absolutely. I’ll even deliver it myself, whenever you want.”

She eyed the rest of them. “And I’ll be thinking of how each of you can make it up to me, as well.”

With a chorus of agreement, they practically ran from the room. Skylar would have thought it was funny if she hadn’t been so annoyed. She stepped into the main room and saw Aaron. Aside from the security guard who was probably in the lobby waiting to lock the front door, he must be the only one left in the building.

“I’ll let you know when I can meet with you, Mr. Hollister,” she said. It wouldn’t hurt to be more formal with him.

“How about right now?”

“How about remembering it’s after nine o’clock and we both have teenagers at home?”

Aaron looked startled. “Oh, yes, of course.”

“I’ll have to arrange a time when I can get an extra employee to cover for me at the stand. Or we can meet after I close. Just not tomorrow.”

“What’s wrong with tomorrow?”

“It’s Friday and I have plans.” Those plans involved getting together with Grace Gibson and finalizing the arrangements for Karin’s birthday party, but Skylar didn’t want Aaron to start thinking about Karin’s birthday. She especially didn’t want him to start counting back and remember when Karin had been conceived.

“Fine,” Aaron said. His teeth were gritted. “Let me know when and where.”

“I will. But don’t expect to show me a slick PowerPoint program and get an instant approval. I’m sure we’ll have several meetings.”

If Aaron was dismayed, he hid it well. “My presentation is more than a slick PowerPoint—it has important information.”

“Oh, I’ll watch it, but even in Cooperton we’ve heard of computers—bells and whistles won’t impress me.” She smiled sweetly. “You’re going to get lots of questions.”

“Uh...yes. I’ll be at your disposal.”

Skylar found that doubtful, but she didn’t have time to think about it. Ever since Jimmie’s accident it had been emotionally challenging to leave her daughter alone for long periods. And it was worse now with Karin being so moody over the baseball play-offs.

“Fine. I’ll contact your office in a few days with a date for our first meeting. Have a good weekend.” She had almost escaped through the door when Aaron cleared his throat.

“Cooperton used to try to accommodate my grandfather,” he said. “But it seems as if everyone is opposed to the idea of Cooper Industries expanding, even though they haven’t heard my ideas. It’s the sort of thing that’s good for a town, so why is it a problem?”

She hesitated, debating what to tell him, then chose cautious honesty. “Your grandfather was concerned about both his company and Cooperton. But no one knows what your priorities are...or what you’d do to protect them.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Is it?”

* * *

AARON WAS ANNOYED as Skylar left; her reply hadn’t made any sense. Maybe he didn’t have George’s commitment to Cooper Industries, but he didn’t hate the company. And he didn’t hate Cooperton. Sure, he didn’t have the greatest childhood memories of the small town, but that didn’t mean he was out to destroy it.

Belatedly he realized he should have walked Skylar to her car and hurried outside in time to see her drive away in the old truck he’d often seen at the Nibble Nook.

Frowning, he headed for home himself. Melanie was sixteen, not six, and leaving her alone wasn’t irresponsible...yet somehow it felt irresponsible, having to be reminded that staying late for a business meeting wasn’t necessarily the best idea.

By Skylar, no less.

Skylar.

Aaron shook his head. As a teenager she’d gotten under his skin with her curvaceous body and wild nature, and now she was still bothering him in other ways.

CHAPTER FOUR

KARIN LAY ON her bed looking at her geometry textbook. Algebra was all right, but this junk about points and lines and angles was so easy it was boring. Still, if she was going to be a great scientist and save lives someday, she’d better pay attention. She wasn’t sure where geometry fit into being a scientist, but it must somehow. After geometry she had to take trigonometry and calculus, which sounded just as dull. She liked chemistry and other science courses the best.

Closing the book, she grabbed her smartphone and dialed Melanie’s number. Honestly, how did anyone survive in the dark ages without cell phones? It must have been awfully primitive.

“Hi,” Mellie answered. “Is your mom still gone?”

“Yeah, she said the meeting would go late.”

“It might be over. Aaron just got home, and he doesn’t look happy.”

“Does he ever look happy?” Karin couldn’t remember a single time when Mellie’s brother wasn’t acting pissed or disapproving.

“Sometimes he isn’t so bad.”

Karin heard the front door open and close. “Mom’s back, too,” she said. “See you tomorrow.” With a hurried “bye” she turned off the smartphone.

Her mother was in the kitchen putting the teakettle on to heat. “Sorry, it took longer than I expected.”

Karin shrugged. “It’s not like I need a babysitter or anything. Mellie told me that her brother was going to the meeting. What did Mr. Hollister want?”

“Just some city council business. You’ll probably hear about it in a few days.”

Uh-oh. Now her mom seemed uptight and not very happy, either. Darn it, anyhow. Karin was glad that Mellie had come to Cooperton and she wouldn’t be here if her brother wasn’t here, too, but why did he have to be so awful? The kids at school were always talking about Aaron because their parents worked at the factory and hated him. Jill Vittorino’s dad was the mayor, and she said that her father was worried that Aaron Hollister might even move the company to another place where they didn’t have to pay workers as much.

“Is everything okay?” she asked cautiously.

“It’s fine. Did you get your homework done?”

“Define done.”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Stop imitating that actor on Psych or I’m taking your television away until you’re thirty. You know perfectly well what I meant.”

Karin giggled. “It’s done. Even geometry.”

“Good. Parent–teacher conferences are coming up, and I don’t want to be asked why you aren’t doing your assignments.”

Karin laughed again, but an odd thought occurred to her. “What if I was flunking? What would you do?”

“Are you flunking?”

“No, I just wondered. Kids flunk, you know. Susan Lightoller is real smart, but she’s blowing calculus, and everybody knows that Tiffany Baldwin got an F in English last year.”

“From what you’ve said about Tiffany, I’m surprised she isn’t failing all of her classes. It sounds as if she spends most of her time doing her hair and makeup and flirting with boys.”

The kettle whistled and Karin fidgeted as her mom made a cup of tea. “So what would you do if I was getting F’s? Like...ground me or something?”

“I would try to find out why you were failing. There’s a difference between not trying to do the work, and having trouble with it. If you were having trouble, I’d get a tutor to help.”

“And if I was just goofing off?”

“I’d ground you for life. We don’t do things halfway in this family.”

We don’t do things halfway in this family.

Karin gulped. She hadn’t heard that since her dad had died. It was something he used to say when they were having a special load of fun. He’d say something like, “You want a second ice cream cone, don’t you? We don’t do things halfway in this family.” Hearing it now made her feel both sad and good.

“Okay. I’m going to get ready for bed.”

She practically ran to her bedroom, blinking to keep from crying and making her mom cry, too.

* * *

SKYLAR TRACED THE steaming rim of her mug, thinking about the past. At eighteen she’d been determined to raise Karin alone—scared, but determined. Then Jimmie had asked her to marry him, and she’d loved him so much she had finally agreed. Now she was back to doing it alone, with a grieving teenager to boot.

It was awful not knowing how to help Karin. They’d talked with a grief counselor, yet there were times when it seemed as if her daughter was hurting more now than in the first months after losing her father. Maybe it would get better after the pennant race and World Series was over.

And now Aaron was back in Cooperton, complicating matters.

Perhaps she should have explained to Karin why he’d been at the meeting. Her classmates might start talking about it, and they’d soon know her mother was responsible for deciding whether he did or didn’t get approval.

It still astonished Skylar. She would never have guessed the city council was capable of such creative maneuvering; perhaps they were better politicians than she’d thought. Of course, since they couldn’t know the history she shared with Aaron, they’d likely figured it was the best solution all around. Yet it was going to take a huge amount of work to do the thing right—the zoning question alone bothered her. She hated seeing farmland being covered by roads and buildings.

But Chet and the others were right about one thing—a big chunk of the Nibble Nook’s customers were Cooper Industries employees. She might be able to stay in business if the company shut down, but what would the town do? You couldn’t suddenly throw hundreds of people out of work without having a major impact on everyone. The town might not survive, which meant that no matter what she didn’t like about Aaron’s plans for expansion, she’d probably have to give her approval.

At least she hadn’t been the only one blindsided by the city council. The look on Aaron’s face had been priceless, both when he’d realized she was a member, and then when he learned he would have to deal with her to get what he wanted.

Skylar’s tea had long cooled by the time she followed Karin to bed. She still hadn’t decided how she was going to handle Aaron’s proposal. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was anyone else, but their personal history aside, she didn’t have any faith in his concern for anyone except himself.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING Aaron was driving Melanie to school when she cleared her throat.

“Uh...Aaron, Karin and I want to go to the movies tomorrow. There’s a Matt Damon flick playing. The Saturday matinee starts at 12:20 and afterward we thought we’d go for pizza before the baseball game starts. Is that okay?”

Instant refusal hovered on his lips. Aside from Karin Gibson’s mother, he didn’t have anything against the teenager, but Skylar was the problem, along with the general undesirability of his sister hanging out at a place like the Nibble Nook. On the other hand, he didn’t have any reason to think Skylar was still the outrageous troublemaker she used to be.

Aaron thought fast. “Actually, I’d like to spend more time with you and thought we could go to San Francisco tomorrow. It’s close enough for a day trip if we leave early in the morning.”

Melanie’s hopeful smile vanished. “But you’ve been planning to work at the office. You know, I could have gone to the movies without telling you that Karin was going to be there, too. But I asked, just like Mother says I’m supposed to.”

True enough. He ought to be grateful that his sister was being honest. And he was grateful. Taking her for the year had filled him with concern.... What if she got on drugs when she was in his care, or something equally bad, simply because he didn’t know the right thing to say or do? He’d never considered having children, much less how to deal with a teenager, so it was uncharted territory for him.

“Wouldn’t you like to see San Francisco instead?” he urged. “It’s a beautiful place and quite different from other cities you’ve visited like Paris and London. We could eat crab and fresh sourdough bread on Fisherman’s Wharf and get ice cream at Ghirardelli Square. Maybe we would even go out to Alcatraz Island and take a tour of the old prison. They say it’s haunted. You have all those DVDs of that Ghost Hunters television reality show, so I know you’re interested in that sort of thing.”

Melanie shook her head. “I’d rather see a movie with Karin. Please say yes, Aaron. I’ve never had a friend like her before. That’s better than San Francisco.”

Aaron glanced at his sister. Her eyes were wistful, and regret went through him. In one of their arguments Skylar had accused him of not caring about Melanie. He’d reacted angrily, maybe because he knew that it was partly true in the beginning—he had mostly looked out for his sister because it seemed the right thing to do. Now he was growing fond of her, and it was hard to think of her unstable childhood, being sent from one household to another. She had lived in a number of glamorous places, yet she’d never had a real friend.

“All right,” he said slowly. “You can spend the afternoon with Karin.”

Melanie’s delighted smile made him sigh—he would have agreed to practically anything after seeing that sad look on her face. Hell, maybe he should even consider keeping her until she graduated.

He stopped in front of the high school. “Have a good day.”

“You, too.” She gave him an impulsive kiss on the cheek and got out.

Aaron watched her disappear inside the old building. The high school hadn’t changed much since he was a kid. It was like everything in Cooperton, old-fashioned and tired. The whole town needed a facelift...or a funeral.

He drove on and as he passed the Nibble Nook, decided to stop and see if Skylar was available. She’d claimed she would call in a few days to set up a time to meet, but he didn’t want it turning into weeks or months.

At least two dozen customers were eating at the picnic tables, and more waited in line at the window. The scent of coffee and food wafted through the air and there was a babble of cheerful conversation. Yet as Aaron got out of the Mercedes and approached, the chatter faded into watchful silence. At a guess, a number of the customers were Cooper Industry employees—probably from the night shift, eating breakfast after getting off work. They must have recognized him.

Well, hell.

He didn’t intend to justify his decisions, no matter how unpopular they might be. They were necessary to keep the company afloat and to preserve jobs, though he wasn’t entirely sure why he cared if the business survived. At the same time, the hostile atmosphere heightened his concerns about Melanie being around people who so plainly disliked him. That was one of the problems with small towns: you couldn’t get away from the people who knew you.

“Good morning,” he said when he got to the front window. “Is Mrs. Gibson here?”

“No, sir. Skylar is picking up a load of produce, but she should be back soon.” The tall young man smiled, a pleasant contrast to the sullen customers in the eating area. “Would you like to order something?”

“Sure.” Aaron hadn’t gone to a hamburger stand since he was a teenager, but he looked at the breakfast menu and ordered the spicy breakfast burrito and a cup of “special brew” coffee, whatever the hell that pretended to be. The prices seemed excellent, and the amount of food the server passed through the window was generous.

He went to the Mercedes to eat, and his first surprise was the coffee. He’d figured it would taste like pencil shavings, despite being billed as a “special brew.” Instead it was rich and boldly flavored.

As for the burrito...Aaron took a bite and his eyes widened. It was stuffed with bacon, cheese, eggs, green chilies and potatoes and was absolutely delicious. The flavor reminded him of the breakfast burritos he’d eaten in Santa Fe where he and Matt had managed to meet up one weekend. Aaron liked Matt; he just wished his brother hadn’t followed in their father’s playboy footsteps.

When he finished eating, he phoned Peggy and told her that something had come up and he would be later than expected. He settled back with his coffee, keeping an eye on the traffic from the road. Customers came and went, and it wasn’t long before the old truck he’d seen Skylar driving the previous night arrived and pulled around to the rear of the building.

He followed and found Skylar putting down the tailgate of the truck. The cashier who’d helped Aaron earlier had come out and was talking to her.

“Here he is,” said the young man.

She looked up and her expression turned chilly. “Did you need something, Mr. Hollister?”

Suddenly Aaron’s plan to push for a meeting time to discuss Cooper Industries didn’t seem like the best idea. Antagonizing her wouldn’t help his cause, though he suspected he was already screwed after their clashes over his sister. Skylar wasn’t likely to put her personal feelings aside to make a rational decision.

“Melanie mentioned she has plans to see a movie with your daughter tomorrow afternoon. Sharing a pizza was also discussed.”

Skylar nodded. “They’ve been talking about it.”

“I thought you should know that I told her she can go.”

“You’re okay with it?”

Aaron could tell that Skylar had expected him to refuse and felt like a fraud. He’d tried to talk Melanie into a trip to San Francisco instead of going with her friend—essentially a bribe. It spoke well of his sister that she’d chosen Karin, even if it wasn’t what he had wanted.

“I’d prefer her spending less time at the Nibble Nook, but a movie sounded all right,” he replied frankly. “And I could see how much it meant to her. I’ll make sure she has cash for both the movie and food.”

“Oh, that’s something I’ve been meaning to bring up... Stop giving Melanie fifty-dollar bills to use. It makes her conspicuous. If she needs to carry so much money, give her tens or twenties and have her tuck most of them out of sight in different places in her wallet or purse so it isn’t obvious how much she’s got.”

Aaron didn’t appreciate the obvious being pointed out to him, but she was right. Somebody might get tempted by the idea of easy cash.

“I should have thought it through better,” he admitted grudgingly. “I’ve just been giving her whatever’s in my wallet, and I know my father sends her cash in large bills. I’ll tell Melanie to have me change it into smaller denominations.”

Skylar lifted a crate of lettuce and handed it to her employee. “Thanks, Peter. You should get back inside. I heard more cars arrive out front.”

When they were alone, she dusted her hands. “Why didn’t you just call and leave a message about okaying the girls’ plans? Aren’t you too busy for this kind of personal contact?”

Was that a subtle criticism, or was he just being overly sensitive?

“I was driving past on my way to the office and decided to stop. I’m not familiar with the appropriate protocols for dealing with a teenager.”

“Whatever.” She hopped back into the truck bed and shoved a stack of boxes closer to the tailgate, a healthy flush of color in her cheeks.

One thing Aaron had to say for Skylar, she worked hard. He just wasn’t sure of anything else when it came to her—while she may have changed since her disreputable high-school days, he had a hard time trusting people in general, and women in particular. Ironically, his father seemed to be the opposite. S. S. Hollister was an eternal optimist, always on the lookout for romance.

It was his children who’d learned to be wary of marriage and relationships.

“Don’t you have employees to handle the heavy lifting?” Aaron asked, resisting an impulse to help. She must do this sort of thing every day; she didn’t need him.

“They’re busy. When things are quieter midmorning, I’ll have them slice the onions and tomatoes and wash lettuce for the lunch crowd. We want our ingredients to be fresh.”

“We?”

Her expression went blank. “Saying we is a habit. I ran this business with my husband for more than a decade, and he’s only been gone a year.”

Aaron wasn’t sure how to respond. He’d been noticing how well Skylar filled out her jeans and T-shirt—slim, yet sweetly curved in all the right places—only to be reminded she was a widow.

“I see,” he said awkwardly. “Well, I’ll go, since you’re obviously busy. You’ll call when we can get together to talk about my expansion plans?”

Her eyes narrowed. “As I said last night, I’ll contact you in a few days.”

“Good. Great. We’ll speak then.”

Aaron made his way back to his Mercedes. He still didn’t have anything settled, but it couldn’t be helped. Diplomacy took time, and he was already at odds with Skylar. And it wasn’t as if they’d ever gotten along in the first place.

* * *

THE FOLLOWING Wednesday Skylar drove to city hall shortly before the time she’d set for her meeting with Aaron. He’d suggested they meet at Cooper Industries, but she was too smart to agree. She refused to be treated like a flunky on his payroll—city hall was her territory, and he was the one asking for something from the community, not the other way around.

Cooperton City Hall was one of those grand old buildings built in a confident era when they’d believed the town would soon need a large home for its government. Money and love had gone into planning and constructing the place. The offices beyond the public facade were nice, but the rotunda was the town’s pride and joy—with an ornate dome overhead and a beautiful mosaic wood floor that had been covered by carpet for several decades. When the restoration committee had pulled the carpet up three years ago, expecting the original surface to be ruined, they’d discovered it simply needed a good cleaning and basic repairs for carpet-tack damage.

It was a soothing atmosphere, but Skylar didn’t have time to appreciate the rich glow of wood, brass and polished granite. She trotted up the stairs and through the swinging doors of the mayor’s reception area.

Micki Jo looked up from the computer on her desk. “Hey, Skylar, ready for your big meeting with Aaron Hollister?”

“I suppose. Do you have those reports?

“Yup.” Micki Jo pointed to a box on the corner of her desk. “Copies for you, and copies for the big shot. And here are the keys for the council offices—keep them. I had duplicates made. You should have your own set. Everyone else on the council does.”

“Is that an executive decision, or a Micki Jo ruling?”

“Micki Jo, all the way. The mayor is too busy wringing his hands over what Mr. Hollister is doing with Cooper Industries to be bothered with minutiae. Small-town government requires secretaries who are willing to make decisions in the temporary absence of leadership.”

Skylar pocketed the keys. “Would your college professors approve of that theory?”

“Probably not. Secretaries aren’t appreciated enough.”

It was true, in more ways than one. Micki Jo had started working for city hall two years before, and despite her youth and inexperience, now practically ran the place behind the scenes. Chet was only in his office a few hours a day; the rest of the time he managed his restaurant. Micki Jo, on the other hand, worked full-time and eagerly jumped into every aspect of Cooperton’s government. She was taking night classes toward a bachelor’s degree in political science.

“How are your studies going?” Skylar asked.

The other woman flashed a smile. “I got A-pluses on my last two tests, and I’m writing a paper about Thursday night’s council meeting for my poli-sci course. The guys sure did a fast duck and cover with Aaron Hollister’s expansion proposal.”

“Tell me about it. Mr. Hollister wants a swift approval, but it isn’t going to be that easy. You may hear some yelling before we’re done.”

“My money’s on you, but if you come to blows, try not to get blood on the floor,” Micki Jo advised. “Our preservation chairperson will have hysterics if that hardwood gets damaged. You know how excitable she is.”

Skylar laughed and headed for the city council’s offices with the box of reports tucked under one arm. Three rooms in city hall were allotted to the council—including one for small meetings. She’d never expected to need the offices, so having a key hadn’t occurred to her. Come to think of it though, Jimmie may have had a set. If so, it would still be with his key ring in the dresser drawer, in the envelope....

Her lingering humor faded as she recalled being handed a large yellow envelope by the coroner’s office after Jimmie’s accident. “His valuables,” they’d said gruffly. She’d barely looked in it, tucking the thing under a pile of his T-shirts. Grace had helped her pack up most of Jimmie’s clothes and personal items, but Skylar had left that drawer alone. Somehow it seemed symbolic, a small goodbye yet to be said.

The council office was stuffy, and Skylar pushed thoughts of her husband’s accident from her mind as she opened a window. She’d gone over the Nibble Nook’s schedule, trying to find the best time to meet with Aaron, finally deciding morning would be best. Several of her employees were eager for extra hours, and she could get them to cover for her when she was gone.

Precisely at 9:00 a.m., Aaron came through the open door carrying a soft-sided briefcase. “Good morning,” he said with a formal smile. “You agreed to look at the PowerPoint program on expansion plans, so I brought my computer.”

“That’s probably the best way to start.” Skylar wanted to ask how Melanie was feeling, since Karin had mentioned her friend had been out of school sick both Monday and Tuesday, but it was best to keep the meeting on a purely professional level.

Aaron set up his laptop, and she realized they’d have to sit side by side while he changed the slides and talked.

Damn.

He moved his chair next to hers, and his elbow came perilously close to her breast as he started the program. Grimly she focused on the information. It was concise and to the point...and a big problem as far as she was concerned. Keeping her expression neutral became a challenge, and when the final slide had been clicked off, she had trouble unclenching her jaw.

“You want to expand east of the factory,” she said finally.

“It’s the best location.”

“That property has been leased to organic farmers for years.”

“But is still owned by Cooper Industries. The lease is coming up for renewal, so it’s an opportune time to move forward with updating and expanding the factory complex. The land just needs to be rezoned.”

Skylar thought of the farmers who’d worked so hard to grow pesticide-free produce, going through the trouble and expense of being certified organic. She wanted to scream. Granted, the land didn’t belong to those farmers, but she knew old Mr. Cooper had promised they’d be able to stay. What’s more, the Cooperton Organic Farmer’s Market lured shoppers from as far away as Sacramento and San Francisco—shoppers who spent much-needed dollars in their town instead of somewhere else.

“What about the area south of the existing complex?” she asked, deciding not to bring up the organic issue unless it became necessary. “It’s more marginal farmland owned by Cooper Industries and isn’t currently in use. Rezoning would be much more palatable there for everyone.”

Aaron looked taken aback, and she could swear he hadn’t considered an alternate site. “I believe services are better in the other location.”

She would have to look at the city and county maps to determine if that was actually true, or just an excuse. On the other hand, she knew the roads around Cooperton and enough about other town projects to ask a few questions.

“Maybe, but are you aware the proposed site for a new waste-sewage treatment plant is south of the factory complex, as well? By expanding that direction, you would likely reduce your sewage costs and possibly limit any retrofitting to meet new regulations.”

Aaron’s forehead creased in thought. “Does Cooperton have the money to build a new treatment plant? This town is so old and tired, I’m surprised they’re even talking about it.”

“Cooperton is old—that doesn’t mean it’s tired.”

“Really? How about the high school? Or city hall for that matter? This place is ancient. Most towns have abandoned these aged buildings for something modern.”

Skylar’s blood started a slow simmer. “Modern isn’t always better. Have you taken a good look at this place? City hall was restored three years ago with a private grant and placed on the national registry for historic buildings. And believe it or not, Cooperton High students test quite competitively with other students in California.”

Aaron gave her a narrow look. “This is a switch. You didn’t have a good opinion of Cooperton when we were kids, either—you thought the people who lived here were nothing but tongue-wagging, judgmental hypocrites.”

“I’ve grown up since then and discovered most people are basically nice if you give them a chance. And it isn’t as if my parents were pillars of the community—I don’t blame anyone for being glad when they left.”

Skylar stuck out her chin with a hint of her old defiance. She wasn’t even sure where her mother and father were living; they’d left Cooperton shortly before she’d married Jimmie and she’d never tried to find them. As far as she was concerned, the Gibsons were the only grandparents her daughter needed. But then, it was Jimmie and his parents who’d changed Skylar’s mind about Cooperton, helping her see it was more than a place which had made a teenage girl angry and rebellious.

“Regardless, my opinions are not your concern,” she added, realizing the conversation had gone far out-of-bounds.

“Anything that influences your decision is my concern. After our clashes over Melanie...well, the situation is awkward enough.”

Skylar’s nerves tightened. “I’m not biased, I just want to make the right choice for Cooperton. Now, do you have a written proposal to leave with me? I’ll study it so I can have a better idea of what questions to ask at our next meeting.”

“Yes, I have it with me.” Aaron opened his briefcase and took out a thick book with a spiral binding. “This is the basic plan.”

She took the book and wondered if he’d hoped to impress people with the volume of paper in his “basic” plan. How would she know, anyhow? She ran a hamburger stand—a highly successful stand—but a far cry from a business like Cooper Industries.

“I’m sure that at some point our building inspector will need to see full-size copies of the blueprints,” she murmured. “And any approval I give would still be contingent on subsequent building permits and inspections and the like.”

“Of course. I’ll bring copies to the Nibble Nook.”

A surge of adrenaline hit Skylar. She didn’t want Aaron conducting business at the Nibble Nook. Besides, her customers had already complained about his visit the previous Friday—they acknowledged it was a free country, but still resented him giving them a sour stomach.

“No, leave them with Micki Jo,” she said.

“But the hamburger stand is so close.”

Skylar squared her shoulders. “I realize the Nibble Nook doesn’t compare to Cooper Industries, but it’s my livelihood. I’m entitled to keep city council business from intruding any more than needed.”

A variety of emotions crossed Aaron face until he finally nodded. “All right. Micki Jo will have them by noon.”

“Okay. Let’s meet again next week, same time, same place.”

“A week?” He sounded as if she was suggesting a century, instead of a few days, and Skylar could have kicked him. It was typical of Aaron to think she should drop everything to study his proposal. In a lot of ways he hadn’t changed that much—he was still convinced the world revolved around him and his needs.

“Yes, a week. In the meantime, I have material for you to read.” She gestured to the stack of reports that Micki Jo had copied for her, including the public works study on the new wastewater treatment plant.

Her stack topped his proposal by several inches. Whether any of the reports were applicable was another question, and he might have seen them already, but at least they were a start. And she hoped that getting them would show she was trying to give his proposal a valid hearing.

Skylar knew it was vanity on her part—Aaron obviously believed she was going to let personal feelings get in the way of her decision, and she wanted to prove him wrong.

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