For Joy's Sake. Tara Quinn Taylor
shuddered at the thought of anyone, other than Lila and Sara, knowing that she’d written the new bestselling Being Amy series of children’s books. But considering the confidentiality code at The Lemonade Stand, she hoped that if Vanessa and Hannah had guessed, they’d keep her secret.
The little girl, dressed in jeans and a pink-and-purple short-sleeved shirt, with matching pink-and-purple tennis shoes, opened the book. Turned the pages. Almost as if she was following along with the story. Julie purposely spoke out of page order, to see if Joy got to the right page. Talking about the time Amy was in the bathtub in the morning instead of at night and her shadow was on the wall beside her. Then she moved on to her shadow being in the dentist’s office with her. Joy turned back a couple of pages.
Julie wanted to look at Sara, to let her know the little girl was engaged.
But she didn’t. She wanted Joy to feel her full attention. As though it was just the two of them there.
Just the two of them—and Amy.
For as long as Joy needed her.
* * *
A BUSY WEEK turned into a maelstrom. Hunter got everything done, with his easygoing nature intact. Most of the time he even managed to keep a smile on his face.
Except for the meeting he’d sat in on with Edward and Lila McDaniels, managing director of The Lemonade Stand. He didn’t know what he’d expected when he’d called Brett. But it hadn’t been an immediate appointment with Brett’s top employee at the Stand. He was told to bring Edward in. Hunter had already been vetted for safety purposes when he was hired to run the fund-raisers. And for this one visit, Edward, who had a current medical license, could get in on Hunter’s credentials. Just to Lila’s office and back outside.
That short trip down one hall had been more than Hunter had bargained for. The entire atmosphere—uplifting, supportive and yet somehow desperate, too—had been unlike anything he’d experienced in his life.
But his visit and Edward’s had worked. Sara and Chantel had gone to collect Joy from the neighbors and as of that very first night, Joy had been inside the safe environment, which had round-the-clock security.
Mary would be welcome there, too, if she chose to avail herself of the opportunity once she was well enough to leave the hospital. She’d suffered a severe blow to the head, and it looked like there could be complications, so she might not be out for a while.
Edward had not yet met his granddaughter. He was voluntarily undergoing a full evaluation, with background checks, to prove to anyone with questions that his daughter’s lack of contact with him was not a result of some horrible deed in his past. Or being a horrible man.
What Hunter knew, and others might not, was that if Cara wasn’t found alive, Edward was planning to take every step possible to be awarded full custody.
It was all way more drama than Hunter generally had in his life, and he got most of it from Edward, in the evenings, over beer.
He even felt that the strange week had impacted his carriage. His purposeful gait, as he entered the dinner theater he’d booked to host the Sunshine Children’s League gala, was different from his usual laid-back style. Hunter always built extra time into his schedule. For things like traffic. Catastrophes. Unexpected phone calls. His world was successful partially because of his ability to leave “urgent” out of his days.
But that Thursday he arrived with barely fifteen minutes to spare before dress rehearsal was due to begin for the following week’s gala. Still in the golf shirt he’d put on that morning, he was sweating. At least the dark color of the shirt hid most of the giveaway on that one. Again, not his usual style.
The lack of proper hygiene time irritated him, which put him even more off his game. And here he wanted Julie Fairbanks to be impressed enough to go out with him.
Or rather, accept a single invitation to dinner.
He’d neither seen the woman nor spoken with her since Sunday. He’d been hellaciously busy, and still, she was on his mind the second he woke up that morning. He’d finally reached the day he’d be seeing her.
That thought had sprung him out of bed and into the kitchen for coffee with a whistle.
Coffee was the first thing that had gone wrong. He’d emptied his canister the day before and had neglected to open a new one. Which meant going to the storage cupboard out in his garage to retrieve the canister waiting there, emptying the individual white plastic cups into their holder on the counter, and disposing of the canister.
A small problem. One he’d whistled through.
And then he’d turned on the hot water for his shower and discovered he had none. The thermostat on his hot water heater had gone out. A hundred-dollar fix—he knew a guy who’d come over half an hour later and had it fixed for him in less than that. Then a quick shower and he’d been on his way.
His route had been slower due to traffic he usually managed to avoid. Edward had asked to meet him for lunch, and since the guy was technically family, knew no one else in town and was really broken up about his missing daughter, Hunter agreed. He’d had a business lunch planned, which he attended, met Edward at two, and had to rush to his midafternoon meeting. From then on, he’d never quite caught up to himself.
No time for the second shower he’d planned before seeing Julie again.
“Hunter. I thought I’d be the first one here.”
Either her voice had invaded his brain, along with the images he’d been playing for weeks now, or she was standing behind him.
He turned slowly, his ready smile pasted on his face. “Then you don’t know me well enough yet,” he told her, immensely relieved to find that in spite of his tardiness, he’d beaten her to the venue. Timeliness mattered to her. He’d figured that out when another board member was late for their first meeting. She’d been gracious. But the way she’d continuously rubbed her hands together while they were waiting had given away her distress.
He was trained to notice stuff like that.
Or rather, the psychology degree he’d earned in college, in an effort to better understand people so that he could better know how to please them, had taught him that he needed a class in body language. Which he’d sought outside of his college training.
“I know you arrive fifteen minutes early for every meeting,” she said, coming toward him. Her long dark hair was pulled back, but the white shirt buttoned up nearly to her throat covered any skin she might have left exposed.
Hunter swallowed, pretty sure that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Then he shook himself awake. Yeah, Julie Fairbanks had a perfect figure, great features and memorable eyes, but he was a California boy, and he’d had his pick of more beauties than most men met in a lifetime.
“Ah, but this is a dress rehearsal,” he said, leading her to the stage at the front of the room. He’d reached for her arm, but he’d somehow missed making contact again, just like at the festival. He wondered if she’d avoided his touch this time because she could tell he was sweating. He stopped just short of sniffing his armpit.
That she would certainly have noticed.
“Tensions tend to run high when acts come face-to-face for the first time,” he said. “They’re all vying for position in the lineup, while trying to determine which position would be best for them. They’re looking at the venue, determining how to fit their act into the space, assessing stage wing options for props or easy entrances and exits. They’re also finding out who they know, avoiding people they might’ve had words—or relationships—with in the past. Plus, they’re staking their claim to dressing-room space. And they’re doing all this while trying to appear blasé about the whole thing.”
In Hunter’s world, he and his staff dealt mainly with talent that could make it big, but hadn’t done so yet. Galas like Julie’s could be a chance at a big break. If the right person noticed them. Was impressed