Her brother was silent.
“It was your fault, not his. Get it together, because when he wants to take you back you won’t want to have any regrets.”
God, he frustrated her so much. She was sick and tired of this same conversation. He feared she would find another man, a boyfriend, a husband, and all his wants would diminish and Alvin would have to support himself. She took a deep breath. My God what would he do if he knew about the ménage relationships running rampant in Chance? Or if he knew she was attracted to three brothers. Real men who would probably knock Alvin and Tony out with one punch? I can’t like three men. I wasn’t even able to keep one man from cheating on me. The Gordon brothers would use me and indeed I would be used property.
Damn Alvin! Why does he always make me feel like shit?
She didn’t need a nervous breakdown now when she had this huge job starting in another day. That was if the Gordon brothers liked her idea. She was having second thoughts. She was feeling like she wasn’t good enough. Tony and Alvin did this to her. They made her feel like without them making decisions for her she would screw up.
She swallowed hard and tried to keep the tears at bay as Alvin demanded to know where she was going and who she was meeting.
“I’m doing a big job for some friends in town. It’s a large window in their wine cellar.”
“Who are they?”
“The sheriff and his…family. Very nice people and he loves my work so I’m doing this private project for them.”
“Well don’t forget to keep in touch and call Tony. He said he’s planning on visiting you and misses you.”
“I don’t want him coming here. It’s none of his business what I’m doing.”
“Then be sure to call him and me back immediately when we call. Otherwise he will check in on you. Remember, no other man will want you since you gave it up to Tony. If he wants you back, you’d better accept it. Otherwise there’ll never be a man out there who will respect you, want you, and honestly love you.” He disconnected the call and Alicia slammed the phone down.
“I hate you. I hate both of you and wish you would just leave me alone.”
The tears rolled down her cheeks and she tried unsuccessfully to wipe them away. She would be late to the Gordon men’s home. She needed to dry out first.
* * * *
“Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe you pushed too much, Monroe,” Max said to his brother as he stood in the kitchen looking impatient.
“Nonsense. She said she came up with an idea and wanted to present it to us. I can’t wait to see what drawings she came up with,” Monroe said.
They heard the doorbell ring and Caldwell headed toward it. “I’ll get it.” Monroe and Max headed toward it, too.
The second Monroe saw her face he could see that something was wrong. She said a quick hello and walked in carrying a large box.
“Is everything okay?” he asked her. She nodded.
“Just fine. Let’s head into the kitchen so I can show you my idea,” she said but her voice cracked and she seemed sad. He glanced at Max and Caldwell, who appeared to have noticed as well.
Monroe took in the sight of her as she laid the box onto the table and began to unwrap the packaging. She looked good. She wore a pair of capris in beige and a matching tan-and-white tank blouse that showed off her sun-kissed skin and toned arms. Her hair was pulled up into a fancy style and appeared to be held up by one lone clip in white. She looked very pretty.
“So, this is my idea,” she said and undid the box. She lifted the piece but before she even had it out of the box and in the light of the kitchen he loved it.
“Oh my God, Alicia. You made that?” he asked and moved closer.
“Holy cow that is stunning,” Caldwell said and Max walked closer. He eyed over the Tuscan scene, a sunset over a large vineyard. To the bottom right was a house, similar to their own with a table and four chairs. On the table were a bottle of red wine, a bottle of white wine, and four glasses, plus a platter of cheeses and grapes in green purple and red. The detail was amazing.
Max placed his hands on her shoulders.
“It’s stunning. I’ve never seen anything like it. You can create this on the window downstairs?” he asked, seeming stunned at her capabilities. There were tears in her eyes as s
he nodded her head. She stared at the stained glass creation as if analyzing her own work. When she spoke he heard her own criticism of the piece.
“If you don’t like certain aspects of it I understand and can tweak them. Perhaps you don’t like the house or the wine-tasting table. Or maybe the sunset behind the vineyard.”
“Are you kidding me? This is more than we expected. This is perfection,” Monroe told her.