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Finding the Dream (Dream Trilogy 3)

Page 62

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He looked around again, noted the twisting staircase, the open balcony. Then he spotted Margo, watching him with a cold look of calculated dislike. He certainly didn't have to tolerate silent abuse from the daughter of a servant.

"Do you have an office, a private office we can use?''

"We use most of our space for merchandise." There was an office, of course, but she wasn't willing to speak with him in the shop. It was hers; it was not to be soiled with personal problems. "Why don't we take a walk outside? Margo, I'll be back shortly."

"If that's what you want." Margo smiled thinly at Peter. "Be sure to give our best to your fiancée, Peter. Kate and I were just saying how delighted we are you've found your match."

"I'm sure Candace will find your sentiments… entertaining."

Laura merely shook her head at Margo, to forestall another, pithier comment. "I won't be long." She opened the door herself, waited for Peter to step through onto the veranda.

> He didn't care for Cannery Row or what he considered its carnival atmosphere. It was crowded, noisy, inconvenient. "This is hardly private, Laura."

She smiled at the people strolling on the sidewalk, the busy families, the snarled traffic.

"Nothing's so private as a crowd." Without asking him what he preferred, she moved to the curb to wait for a break in traffic. "We find the location quite a plus. We lure in a lot of browsers who come to the Wharf, or wander down after a tour of the aquarium."

Idly brushing her hair back as the breeze teased it, she started across the street, wanting to be closer to the sea. "And, of course, it's pleasant being able to take a break now and again and come out to watch the water, feed the gulls."

"You'll hardly keep a business afloat by daydreaming over the sea."

"We're managing." She leaned on an iron rail, skimmed her glance over waves and boats. Gulls fluttered and sent a young girl into excited laughter when they landed one by one on her knee as she sat with a bag of crackers. "What do you want, Peter?"

"To discuss Allison and Kayla."

"All right." She turned to him, leaned back. "Allison is doing very well in school. Her grades are exceptional. I'm sure you'd approve. Kayla's having a little trouble with math, but we're working on it"

"That's hardly what I—"

"Excuse me, I'm not finished." She knew he wasn't interested, but she was revved. "Ali played Clara in the Nutcracker production put on by her ballet class last December. She was beautiful, and she cried afterward because her father hadn't come as he'd told her he would."

"I explained that I had a conflict."

"Yes, you did. Kayla played one of the mice, and she didn't care particularly whether you were there or not. I believe Ali will continue the dance lessons, and should be en pointe in another year. Kayla's losing interest, but her drawing is improving every day. They're also taking riding lessons now from Michael Fury. He's very impressed with both of them. Kayla had the sniffles a few weeks ago, but they didn't slow her down for long. Oh, and I've gotten them a puppy and two kittens."

He waited a beat. "Are you done?"

"There's quite a bit more, actually. They're active, growing children. But that should cover the high points for now."

"I came here hoping to have a calm and civilized discussion, not to be treated to one of your diatribes, Laura."

"That wasn't even close to a diatribe, Peter, but I can oblige you."

He shifted, irritated when someone bumped his shoulder. "Candy and I are to be married in just over eight weeks in Palm Springs. Allison and Kayla should attend."

"Is this a demand or an invitation?''

"People will expect the children to be there. Candy is making arrangements for her children to attend. Her au pair will bring them down the day before the ceremony. Allison and Kayla can travel with them."

How civilized, she thought. And how cold. "You want them delivered by Candy's au pair, and returned the same way, I suppose."

"It's sensible, and it's convenient."

"And it won't infringe on your time at all." She held up a hand before he could speak. "I'm sorry. I'm tired and apparently short-tempered. I'm sure the girls would appreciate being included. If you'd call tonight—"

"I have plans. I hardly see the necessity of running through the details again."

She turned away, looked once more out to sea. She could and would bury her own resentments and try, once again, to give her daughter what she needed. "Peter, Ali is very hurt, very confused, and very afraid. You so rarely come to see them or call. She feels abandoned."



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