At the opposite end of the lounge, a TV blared for the six residents seated in front of it. A sallow-skinned lady, who must have been new since Charlie didn’t recognize her, slept in an overstuffed chair kitty-corner to the sofa her mother had chosen.
Charlie carried the two flowered mugs, setting her mother’s on the coffee table. “I brought your favorite.” From the shopping bag she’d slung over her arm, she pulled a pink box from a fabulous bakery only a few blocks away, two china plates, and pretty paper napkins, then placed one half of an almond bear claw on the china. In the old days, her mother had made the most delicious pastries. But she’d had to give up baking when the pain of standing too long became excruciating, not to mention what all the measuring, mixing, and spooning had done to her fingers.
“This is so yummy.” Her mother savored the pastry in little bites, enjoying every morsel. “Now tell me what has you positively glowing.”
Charlie had known her mother would see what she was feeling. Glowing was the perfect word for it. “I’ve got a new commission. A really big one.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you, honey. You deserve it.”
Just like her father, Charlie’s mother had always believed in her art. They’d lost her dad to cancer seven years ago. She and her mother had taken care of him together at the end, with the help of Hospice, who’d come in twice a day. As close as she and her mother had been before, that difficult time had forged an even deeper bond between them.
“Tell me all about the commission.”
Tell me. Sebastian had whispered the words to her, and she’d wanted to tell him everything. Not just about her vision for the chariot, but all the secrets she kept buried down deep. Even from herself.
“My work is going to be shown off in a high-rise in San Francisco at the headquarters of a company called Montgomery Media International.”
“That sounds familiar,” her mother said, frowning a little as she tried to figure out where she’d heard it.
“Sebastian Montgomery is pretty famous.” Charlie had assumed he’d be some glib TV personality, all looks and fast talking, but there seemed to be so much more to him. “He’s on TV a lot and in the papers. That’s probably why it sounds so familiar.”
Charlie felt a thrill just saying his name. Or maybe the thrill came from the heated memory of the moment she’d put her hands on him and said, Do you want it? Even better had been his response. God, yes. I want it all.
Charlie’s stomach did a slow roll of desire just from remembering how the sparks had flown like crazy between them that morning. She wanted him with an intensity she’d only ever felt while working on her art—and every sign indicated he felt exactly the same way—but he hadn’t crushed his lips to hers. Hadn’t given them a first, desperate taste of each other. Instead, he’d asked her if she trusted his intentions. Asked her if she truly believed that he wanted her art as much as he wanted to take her to bed. And when she’d hesitated...
“What does he want you to create, dear?”
Magnificence.
He not only seemed to believe Charlie could do it, but he was also truly determined to make sure she didn’t think her six-figure paycheck came with any naked, sexy strings.
“The lobby has an enormous fountain, and I’m going to create a chariot with stallions, a horrendous race, foam flying, dust billowing.”
Her mother clapped her hands, her fingers so crooked, they barely made a sound. “Like Ben-Hur. Oh, I loved that movie and Charlton Heston.” She sighed dreamily. “He was so handsome.” Her mother would have been a teenager when the movie came out. “I take it Sebastian is pleased with your vision?”
Charlie grinned. “Very.”
Her mother’s eyebrows went up as if she’d just realized there was more to the story than a great commission. “Is he gorgeous?”
“He’s very good-looking. But this is business.” At least for right now.
She didn’t want to get her mother all worked up that Charlie was finally going to have some romance in her life, only to disappoint her if nothing happened. Or if something did happen, and then Sebastian turned out to be like all the other guys she’d dated, eventually becoming frustrated with the fact that she wasn’t a neat and tidy package of a woman. Odds, Charlie knew, were on that one. Finding someone who liked her just the way she was—junkyard and all—would be a tall order, indeed. Good thing she already liked her life. Apart from her worries about her mother’s care.
“He’s going to pay me a lot of money, Mom. Enough to get you into that place in Los Gatos. Remember we toured it last year? Magnolia Gardens.”
“Charlie, that’s so far out of our league.”
“He’s paying me a lot of money, and I don’t know what I’d do with all of it if I didn’t use it to put you somewhere that at least has a garden. And good food too.”
“The food’s fine here.”
Her mother hated that Charlie had to put money toward her care. But they were family, and she’d do anything for her mom. “I want you to live where you can feel the heat of the sun on your skin and smell the blooming flowers.”
“Charlie. Sweetheart. You should be saving for your own future.”
“They have more staff. More doctors.” Charlie lowered her voice. She didn’t want to insult anyone here, but she needed her mother to understand how important this chance was. “There’s physical therapy and hydro baths, all the things that can help ease your pain. I want that for you. It will make me—” She tapped her chest. “—feel better.”
Her mother stared deeply into her china mug, as if there were leaves at the bottom that would predict the future. “Your father wasn’t good at saving for retirement. And all his medical bills just ended up being so big.” They’d had insurance, but so many things were only partially covered. “I’m so sorry it’s all fallen on you, honey.”
“I’m not sorry, Mom.”
“But you could use the money to fix the house.”
Five years ago, Charlie had sunk all her money into the property because it was perfect for her studio, such as it was, and it was close to the college where she taught. The land was valuable, the house, not so much. But if she’d realized her mother would need full-time assisted living, she would have made a different choice. “Your care is more important to me right now. Let me do this. Please.”
“You always could wrap your father and me around your little finger.” But her mother was smiling. “I would love to smell the flowers and sit out in the sun more often.”
“I’ll start making arrangements.”
“Thank you, honey. You’re too good to me. You always have been.” Her mother patted her hand. “Now, tell me more about your Sebastian.”
“He’s not mine, Mom. He’s just an art patron.” But even as she said it, she knew Sebastian could never be just anything. Especially when he made her body heat and her heart race as though she were having palpitations.
And when she was already counting down the hours until she saw him again.
CHAPTER FIVE
It wasn’t just a trailer. Sebastian had sent a freaking semi with four burly men who lifted her heavy equipment as if it were so many down pillows.
They’d arrived at ten on Friday morning. Fifteen minutes later, Sebastian flew in. Literally. In a helicopter, for God’s sake. His pilot landed at the edge of her property, just beyond the junkyard of parts. Charlie couldn’t imagine ever having that kind of money. All she needed was enough to take care of her mom and keep her own roof from falling in and she’d be perfectly happy.