The Christmas Angel Page 12

  She just hated waiting like this. It was annoying, like being in high school again. She had thought they were well past that “Will he call?” stage. If he doesn’t call by the time I get home from Emily’s house, I’m going to do something drastic—like make plans with my grandmother.

  She was turning off the shower when she heard the phone ring. Finally! Let him talk to the machine. I’ll call back, she decided. But once she stepped out of the shower and heard Luke’s voice rambling on for what seemed like the longest message in history, she couldn’t help herself. She wrapped a towel around her middle and skidded across the wooden floors on wet feet, risking life and limb, until she reached the phone in her bedroom.

  “Hello? I’m here,” she interrupted him.

  “Oh, I thought you were out. I’ve been talking into this machine for about an hour.”

  “I was in the shower.”

  “Sorry. I just wanted to say hello. How was your art class last night?”

  “I got there late and Emily and I left early. We just hung out at the Beanery.” Why didn’t you call me at work, like you promised? she wanted to demand. But she held her tongue, waiting to hear what he had to say for himself.

  “Skipping class, Sara? How are you ever going to learn to paint vegetables, or whatever?” he teased.

  “Emily had some big news. She and Dan applied to take in the baby, as temporary guardians.”

  “That is news. I guess you had a lot to talk about.”

  “Yeah, we did.” Mostly about you, she wanted to say.

  “When will they know?”

  “They found out late last night that they were approved. This morning they picked her up at the hospital. They got home a little while ago. I’m going to stop over later and say hello.”

  “Wow . . .” Luke didn’t say anything more, but his simple expletive summed up Sara’s feelings exactly. “I’d offer to go with you, but I’m sort of tied up at the center today.”

  “Oh? What’s going on?” She braced herself, imagining the worst, then immediately chided herself for her overactive imagination. Don’t be silly. Christina Cross is long gone, back to Boston. She was here for an interview, not a vacation.

  “Well, Christina’s still here,” he said blandly, as if he had gorgeous former girlfriends hanging around all the time. What a bore. “I’m not sure what to do with her. We might go out to the beach or something. It’s chilly but clear, not too windy either. Should be a nice day for a walk.”

  A winter beach walk! Sara immediately pictured the two of them strolling along the shore, their arms around each other. The image was totally infuriating. How dare he take Christina for a walk on the beach? That was their special thing to do on a Saturday afternoon. She knew how cold it got out there, and how Luke had a positive talent for keeping a girl warm.

  She felt so hurt, she was speechless.

  “I guess some of the kids and counselors will come. We can play Frisbee or touch football.”

  Sara took a breath. They weren’t going to be alone. That was a little better.

  “Want to meet us out there?” Luke added.

  “No thanks. I promised Emily I’d go see the baby.” Sara didn’t need to tag along on that outing. She knew it would feel awkward, even with others there. “So what’s with Christina?” she couldn’t helping asking. “Doesn’t she have a life?”

  Luke laughed softly. “She needs to hang out and get material for her book. She stayed in one of the empty cabins last night. She’ll probably go back to Boston Monday or Tuesday. I’m not really sure.”

  He wasn’t sure? Was this woman going to move in? That just proved her theory. This Christina was unattached and looking up Luke as a possible rekindled relationship.

  No wonder he hadn’t been in touch all this time; he’d been too busy hanging out with Christina. Sara struggled to keep a grip on her temper. She didn’t want to sound like a jealous shrew, at least not any more than she already had.

  “So what about tonight?” she asked. “Are you busy being interviewed?”

  “Of course not. Don’t be silly.” His tone was warm and reassuring, and Sara felt a little silly for sounding so snide. “I thought we could take Christina up to Newburyport. She hasn’t been there yet. It will be fun to show her around, right?”

  Sure, loads of fun. Like getting a double root canal.

  What was he thinking? Was he thinking at all?

  Sara squelched an almost uncontrollable urge to tell him what a turkey he was being. But what would that accomplish, besides making her feel a whole lot better? They’d end up in a big fight and he’d go off and have a romantic dinner with Christina.

  “So.” He seemed uncomfortable with her silence. “Where should we take her?”

  How about down to the waterfront? We can push her off the dock . . .

  “I was thinking about that French bistro,” he went on. “I think she likes French food. Or she used to.”

  The French place? Not the French place! It was way too romantic.

  “I’m in the mood for sushi myself,” Sara said quickly. The pleasant, well-lit Japanese restaurant in the same neighborhood was ideal for a fast, no-frills meal.

  “We’ll see. Let me think about it.”

  Since Sara wasn’t sure what time she would get back from Emily’s house, they arranged to meet in Newburyport at seven. Sara finally hung up, feeling totally exhausted. How would she ever get through this? It was going to be pure torture.

  But what were her alternatives? Begging off with a headache or some preposterous ailment and letting Luke take the woman out alone? No way. She was chaperoning this outing if it killed her.

  While talking to Luke, Sara had slipped on her bathrobe. Now she stood in front of the mirror, combing out her wet hair. She needed a haircut; her split ends were terrible. And what should she wear tonight? Her good black pants were at the cleaners, and she hadn’t bought anything new for the winter yet. All her sweaters and tops looked so last year.

  She and Luke were at that comfortable stage in their relationship, after that point when you know the person so well, you don’t fuss over your appearance anymore.

  She winced at her reflection. Just when she thought the beauty pageant had ended, she was strolling down the runway again. And this time, the competition was serious.

  Sara glanced at the clock and pulled on jeans and a cotton turtleneck. She could run over to the mall, look for a new outfit, and get her hair trimmed and blown out. She would have to put off her visit to the new baby. She honestly had mixed emotions about that outing, anyway, and was relieved to postpone it a day or so. When she explained the situation, she was sure Emily would understand.

  As Sara tugged on her sneakers and set off for the mall, the wise words of Henry David Thoreau, her favorite New England philosopher, came to mind. “Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.”

  Sara was wary of this outing. She was also determined to arrive in Newburyport looking jaw-droppingly fabulous.

  “WOW, YOU LOOK GREAT.” LUKE STARED WIDE EYED AT SARA, THEN leaned over and kissed her soundly. “What did you do to your hair?”

  “I just had a trim,” she said as he helped her off with her coat.

  “That sweater looks great on you. Is it new?”

  “Not at all. I’ve had it awhile,” she fibbed. At least two or three hours.

  She had wanted to grab his attention, but Luke’s reaction made her feel as if she must look pretty ragged the rest of the time. Besides, she hadn’t wanted Christina to think she had made any special effort. By now she must be thinking I had a complete makeover, Sara mused.

  Luke politely pulled out a chair, and Sara took the seat next to him at the small table. He had decided on the French café and it was just as lovely as she remembered from their former dates, an elegant setting with French country decor, low lighting, and a romantic ambiance.

  Christina sat on the other side of the table, opposite Luke. She wore a black cashmere sweater with a low,
shawl collar that swooped across her neckline, revealing flawless skin and rounded shoulders. Her large topaz earrings complemented her golden hair and sun-kissed complexion. She looked tasteful, stylish, and quite sexy. Is this what she usually packs for her research outings? Sara wondered.

  Maybe it was a good thing that I made such an effort with my appearance, Sara decided. This is serious competition.

  “So how are you enjoying your visit, Christina?” Sara asked pleasantly. “Did you guys go out to the beach today?”

  She had worked hard to come up with several neutral conversation openers. She even practiced them while getting dressed. She wanted to sound cool, confident, unruffled. That was Emily’s advice. When Sara had called to explain her situation, Emily had been totally understanding, cheering Sara on like a coach in a boxer’s corner.

  Don’t let her get under your skin, honey. Remember, you’re with Luke. She’s the guest. She’s on your turf. You have the home-field advantage.

  “We had a great afternoon. The shore is beautiful up here. We had a lot of fun, didn’t we?” Christina glanced at Luke; a warm, intimate look, Sara thought.

  “It was great. Too bad you couldn’t join us, Sara,” Luke said. “But I guess you were pretty busy with your hair.”

  Sara felt a jolt of embarrassment. He made it sound as if it had taken a team of stylists, working around the clock, for her to look this good.

  “No, not at all.” She struggled to change the subject. Next question. “How is your research going, Christina? What do you think of Cape Light?”

  “It’s going great. Luke’s story is so compelling, so inspiring. I knew him way back when. I had no idea what he’d been through since then.”

  Now it was Luke’s turn to look embarrassed and self-conscious. “Everybody faces challenges and hard times. My life isn’t that different from anyone else’s.”

  Sara was about to contradict him, offering an admiring comment about how he had not only faced his challenges courageously, but in finding his own way, found a way to help so many others.

  Christina got there first. “He’s so modest,” she said with a warm smile. “He’s put together this fantastic learning center that helps so many kids, and fought your entire town to do it.”

  My town? How is it my town? Sara wanted to blurt out. She had stood by Luke’s side every step of that battle, even at the risk of her personal safety.

  “It wasn’t the entire town,” Luke corrected Christina. “More like a small, very vocal group. You want to get your facts straight, right?”

  “Sorry.” Christina smiled at him. “I don’t mean to exaggerate. It certainly isn’t necessary for your story, Luke. It’s already the most amazing one in the book. In fact, I think I might block it out and submit it as an article somewhere. It’s great copy.”

  Luke looked embarrassed again, Sara thought. He also looked pleased with all the attention and compliments.

  “There’s the waiter. Maybe we should order,” Sara suggested, picking up her menu.

  Someone had to keep this dinner moving along. She wasn’t sure how she was going to last through the meal. If she could just suffer through it, hopefully she would never have to see this woman again.

  She felt her stomach churn as Christina turned to her with that brilliant smile. “So, Sara, you must tell me. What’s it like working on a small-town paper?”

  At some point during the main course, Sara gave up trying to be cool, confident, unruffled and settled for plain old quiet and boring.

  Christina did most of the talking anyway, so no one seemed to notice. She wasn’t at all boring, though, which was part of the problem. She had led an interesting life and had lively, funny stories about her adventures as a reporter in several major cities—New Orleans, Denver, and Miami—before returning to Boston, where she was raised.

  Christina seemed able to talk about any topic, from the Red Sox’s chances of winning the World Series again this year to the hole in the ozone layer. She was widely published and had written several books of nonfiction that were well reviewed. Sara knew all this because she had researched her rival on the Internet.

  While Sara knew she was bug eyed with jealousy, she was thoughtful enough to realize that it was partly because she admired Christina and her accomplishments.

  If they had met under different circumstances, Sara thought, she might have even liked the other woman and sought her friendship. They had a lot in common. It wasn’t surprising, when you considered it, that Luke had been attracted to both of them at different points in his life.

  The question is, Sara realized, which one of us is he attracted to now?

  “So I heard from Luke that your mother took temporary custody of the baby she found. That’s a great story, especially since she’s the town’s mayor,” Christina noted. “Do you think she would give me an interview? I thought it would make a great piece for the Globe, or even a magazine.”

  She wanted to squeeze a publishing credit out of Emily? Did the woman have no conscience? No sense of boundaries? Who did she think she was talking to?

  Any sense of admiration or even toleration Sara had been musing about quickly evaporated.

  “She can’t give you a story. Sorry.” Sara gave her rival a tight smile. “I’ve already started it, an exclusive.”

  That was an out-and-out lie. Sara had given a moment of vague thought to the idea then gotten distracted by her own conflicted feelings. But she had to take a page from Ace Reporter Christina Cross’s handbook and go for the jugular.

  “She’s a public figure, fair game. Anyone can write about her.” Christina sounded perfectly cool and unruffled. “Let’s see who can get it into print faster, okay?”

  “I don’t think so,” Sara said, trying to laugh off the challenge.

  “Why not? It will be fun. Like the Iron Chef cook-off. Two chefs, same ingredients. Ever see that show?”

  “This is my mom we’re talking about,” Sara reminded her, “not some stranger.”

  “Look, I don’t mean to step on your toes, but it’s a little naive to think you have a patent on that idea just because Emily Warwick is your mother. We both might open the newspaper and see it in print tomorrow.” Christina met Sara’s infuriated glare with a bland smile, then glanced at Luke, as if sharing a joke at Sara’s expense.

  Sara knew that what Christina said was true, and that made her even madder. “Right, someone might be tapping it out as we speak, and we might both lose your little contest.” She stood up abruptly and grabbed her bag. “Be right back.”

  Her voice was deadly calm. Even Luke noticed the ominous note. He stared up at her but she ignored him and stalked off towards the ladies’ room. She faced the door, but didn’t push it open.

  Instead, Sara made a sharp turn toward the front of the restaurant. She retrieved her coat from the coat check, pulled it on, and walked out. Maybe leaving this way was a bit dramatic, but she knew that if she had to sit through another minute of Christina Cross, she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions.

  Outside the cold air cleared her head a bit. She walked with her hands jammed in her pockets and paced up and down the street, wondering if she should just leave or go back inside. She half expected Luke to come running out after her.

  But he didn’t.

  She didn’t want to go in again, she decided. If I’m going to lose Luke to that woman this way, I never really had him to begin with.

  Feeling desperately sad and defeated, Sara trod down the hill to her car and started the drive back to Cape Light.

  “GO AHEAD, GO AFTER HER. I’M SURE SHE DIDN’T GET TOO FAR.” Christina took a sip of her water, gazing at Luke with her large, liquid brown eyes.

  Luke had an impulse to get up and follow Sara, just as Christina advised. But for some reason, he remained in his seat, gazing across the table at the other woman. He was always chasing after Sara, it seemed. That was the story of their relationship. He didn’t feel like it tonight. She would be all right, he told hi
mself.

  “I’m sorry . . . I think I upset her,” Christina apologized. “It’s all my fault.”

  Luke waved his hand at her. “It’s not your fault. Sara can be sensitive about Emily, though. You had no way of knowing that.”

  “I should have realized. I need to watch what I say sometimes. I’m too honest. It scares people.”

  Luke smiled at the admission. Christina could be startlingly frank at times. That was one of the things he always liked about her. “So be honest,” he said. “You were pouring on the compliments a little thick. If you think I’m such a natural wonder, why did you break up with me?”

  Christina’s smile widened. “Now the conversation is getting interesting. Want the real answer?”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “I do.”

  “I was young and stupid. Sure, you’ve changed a lot since you left the police force. But inside, you’ve always been the same. A sweet, smart, decent guy. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I wasn’t ready to settle down, I guess. I didn’t appreciate you.”

  She wasn’t ready. Where had he heard that before, Luke thought.

  “Have you ever forgiven me for dumping you?”

  “Sure I have.” He laughed and shrugged. “I don’t think it would have worked out anyway, for a lot of reasons. My head wasn’t really together back then, either.”

  “You seem to have gotten it all together now,” she said quietly. She traced a line on the tablecloth with her fingertip. “So here’s confession number two. I did want to include you in this book when I came across your story. It’s compelling, inspiring, all that stuff. But I could have interviewed you over the phone and with e-mail. I didn’t have to come up here.”

  “I know that. I’m not that thick, Christina.”

  She smiled at him, her long bangs falling across her eyes. “I wanted to see you. I got to thinking about you, Luke. About the time we spent together. Guys like you aren’t growing on trees back in Boston, you know.”

  He sat back. He didn’t know how to react to that one. This woman really knew what she wanted and knew how to go after it. He wasn’t used to this direct approach, not that he didn’t like it.