Stay strong. The Birch women's motto. He ran his hands over the tools she was about to pack up for the doll show. All had been dipped in Poodle Skirt Pink. Gretchen noted his manicured fingers before she turned away.
"I can't get into a discussion about our relationship right now," she said with an indifference she really didn't feel. "I'm behind on my prep work, and I have a lunch meeting."
Steve, used to pressure in the courtroom, appeared unruffled. He came across the country to get me back; he must have prepared a grand opening argument. The only hint she had that he was unhappy was the way his hand abruptly stopped brushing across the repair tools. Steve had changed so much since he'd begun his pursuit of the law office's partnership. Late hours. Preoccupation with his job. Where had his passion gone?
Or was she the one who'd changed?
He pulled away from the table. "Of course," he said, civilized beyond all doubt. "Later today, then."
Gretchen waved at the disarray in the workshop. "I still have all this to clean up, and I'll be working at the doll show starting very early tomorrow."
"I'll find you at the show," Steve said, exuding practiced self-confidence.
But his voice held a hint of disappointment, and his eyes seemed to plead for an opportunity to present his case. Gretchen needed a continuance. She had to postpone the hearing.
Did that mean she wasn't sure of the verdict?
Garcia's was one of Gretchen's favorite restaurants in Phoenix. After a short wait in the crowded bar, she and Nina were escorted to a table.
Nina, believing she could best detect auras emanating from people if she adhered to a strict vegan diet, scooped guacamole onto a tortilla chip and sighed.
"This vegan diet is harder than I thought it would be,"
she whined. "Are you sure I can't have cheese?"
"It's made with rennet," Gretchen said. "Which is made from animal by-products. Remember, no dairy products at all. Vegans are very strict about their diets."
"I can't even have cheese quesadillas?"
"Nope."
"Ever since I found out that I can see auras better if I don't eat meat, I've lost ten pounds."
Gretchen studied her willowy aunt. "I wish I could lose ten pounds," she said.
Nina glared at her. "I'm starving to death."
"Then eat. Why do you need to see auras anyway?"
"It's important in my purse dog training. I can tell by the color of a client's aura whether or not we are a good match."
"By clients, you don't mean the owners, do you? You mean the dogs?" Gretchen watched Nina nod. "And you agree to train the dogs based on what color surrounds them?"
Nina nodded again and stuffed a chip into her mouth. She took a sip of her margarita. "Thank goodness, I can still drink alcohol." Nina, newly coiffed, sported a teal bow in her hair that matched the one attached to Tutu's head. Tutu, also freshly shampooed and trimmed, waited indignantly outside in Nina's red vintage Impala.
"How am I going to explain the missing Ginny dolls and the lost money to my mother?" Gretchen said.
"Caroline will understand."
"The more I think about it, the more I think I was set up. The boxes were switched on purpose."
"Ridiculous."
The waiter delivered Gretchen's Poco Pollo Fundido, and Nina looked longingly at the chicken, ignoring her plate of veggie fajitas.
"You've become very suspicious of people since Steve betrayed you," Nina said.
"What about the false address?"
"A simple mistake."
"I don't think so."
"The dolls will turn up. You have to focus on the good in people."
Nina had made up her mind, and there would be no changing it. Gretchen switched subjects.
"Why did you tell Steve I was going out with Matt?" she said.
"A little competition never hurt. Besides, you two are very close to connecting. I can feel it."
"He's still married."
"A minor detail. He filed for divorce."
Gretchen took a bite of chicken.
"I love a man in a uniform," Nina said wistfully. The detective wore Chrome cologne, Gretchen's favorite male scent, and he did have a buff build. But he was in the middle of a nasty divorce. Gretchen planned on staying clear. She had enough problems with men at the moment without adding another one to her life.
"He's undercover most of the time, Nina. He usually doesn't wear a uniform. I've never even seen him in one."
"He's really sexy, but Steve has the money. It's a tough choice."
Gretchen took a long draw on her lime margarita and chanted the word patience several times in her head before responding. "I don't want Steve back. Never, ever. He cheated on me, and I could never trust him again. I'm through, so I don't want you to encourage him in any way."
Although her words were strong, Gretchen still worked to suppress her feelings for Steve. He'd hurt her badly, but she had seven years of memories, and she'd relived many of them since moving to Phoenix. She had to constantly recall her initial anger.
Seeing him for the first time in two months had affected her, as she knew it would. She should have left the city before he arrived and spared herself all the conflicting emotions.
"I hope he doesn't go crazy when he realizes he can't win you back." Nina fiddled absently with the rim of her margarita glass. "Some men go right over the edge."
Gretchen tilted her head and studied her aunt. Nina, divorced after a brief and tumultuous marriage after college, hadn't had a date with the opposite sex for years. Or if she had, she wasn't sharing any details. She seemed content with Tutu and her purse training business and spending time with her small family-Gretchen and Gretchen's mother, Caroline.
"We should fix you up with a hot date," Gretchen suggested. "After we set up for the show, we'll scout around for someone special for you. Since you're my assigned show assistant, meet me at the hall first thing in the morning. That's six o'clock a.m., Nina."
Nina groaned.
"Lovely. Just where I'd expect to find an interesting man. At a doll show."
"Maybe one of those Boston Kewpie doll collectors needs a tour of Phoenix."
Nina snorted. "I'll be on hand to help you, but I'm hoping you won't need me. April called and asked me to share her table. She can't afford it on her own."
"The tables are only thirty-five dollars. She's that short of cash?" Gretchen said, alarmed that her assistant was jumping ship.
Nina slurped the last of her margarita before answering.
"April only charges two dollars for a doll appraisal. That's a giveaway. She needs to raise her prices to cover her costs and make a little profit. Maybe when those rich Boston Kewpie collectors come along, she can charge them five dollars."
"You don't even collect dolls," Gretchen pointed out.
"How are you going to share her table?"
Enthusiastic, Nina leaned forward. "I'm going to show off my special purse dog training techniques and sign up new clients. Doll people love little dogs. We'll bring Nimrod along so I can use him for my demonstrations. A miniature dog always draws a crowd."
Nina, eternally surrounded by an entourage of canines, had made a good point. People gravitated to Gretchen's teacup poodle like hummingbirds to nectar. Nina's table was guaranteed to be the liveliest area of the show.
"You promised to help me. We'll have to get tables close together," Gretchen said.
"Tables are already assigned," Nina said. "But I'll call Bonnie and work it out in case she's positioned you in another area. Don't worry."
Gretchen rummaged in her purse for money to pay the check. Whenever Nina said, "Don't worry," Gretchen began to worry. "I still have so much to do."
"You're in good shape," Nina said. "You just have firsttime jitters."
Gretchen straightened a few crumpled bills she found on the bottom of her purse. Now, if I could only remember where I put the car keys. She patted her pockets and drew them out.