Page 62 of Healing You
Sophy nodded, taking a big bite of her sandwich. She chewed her turkey club, while Yvonne chewed over the thought over in her mind. “I've been here doing a lot of research. And while Maple Grove is filled with great restaurants and coffee shops and yoga centers and antique stores... it's severely lacking big brand clothing stores. There's nothing competitive in town. And the closest shopping mall is a forty minute drive. There is a whole brand of tourism solely for outlet shopping. We'll get a few sporty shops in here since it's a hiking and ski town. A couple of nicer stores—an Ann Taylor and Banana Republic. Maybe a Coach.”
Yvonne felt her smile spread. “I think that's a great idea, Sophy. I just don't know how that involves me.”
“Well...” She reached into a binder pulling out a stack of papers. “I thought that you may want to consider a storefront for your rescue. I know you have that little rented office on the East End of town, but that's basically two desks and a shared computer, right?” Sophy paused for all of a second, not even allowing enough time for Yvonne to answer. She was right. Yvonne had a small office she rented for the sole purpose of having a place for meetings with potential donors. But it was essentially just a glorified cubicle for herself and Carrie. “We're building the outlets to have a gorgeous park in the center... not like your typical outlet malls. And pending approval from the city council, we could put a fenced-in dog park there as well. It would be the perfect place for you to host events like the one you're throwing this weekend. And that way, you could own a piece of the investment while also expanding your business.”
Yvonne flipped through the sketches. “Wow, this is...” she ran her finger over blueprints, and even though she knew it was just business, she was touched. Sophy didn't have to go to all this trouble to preserve their town. Yet, she did. “You've been busy,” Yvonne said.
“You have no idea,” she laughed, breathlessly.
“This is really great. I'll have to go over the numbers with my accountant, but I'm already leaning toward yes.”
Sophy's smile widened and she leaned over, pointing to the second page in the packet of information she'd given. “This explains all the numbers. What it would cost to rent a storefront versus owning a piece of the development. Your mom already negotiated a potential storefront for you into their deal, but before we crossed the t's on that, I thought I should check with you first.”
Warmth blossomed deep in her chest. “My mom negotiated that? Are you sure it wasn't my dad?”
Sophy shook her head. “No. I mean, your dad was there, too, but it was your mom who was adamant about you expanding. Building the dog park was even her idea. She put me in contact with Mayor O'Donnell and your city planner.” Sophy gestured to her notebook and the paperwork now scattered about the table. With a tilt of her head, she gave a warm smile. “They seem like they're really proud of you. For what that's worth.”
Coming from her mother? That was an apology. It was more than an apology. It was an active acceptance of her life's work. “That's really amazing of them to link my rescue into their deal, but I have my trust money. And I think this would be a really wise way to spend it. I'll have my lawyer look over the paperwork, but so long as there aren't any discrepancies...” Yvonne smiled and put out her hand. “I think I can safely say that I'm in.”
Sophy firmly took her palm in hers, giving it an energetic shake. “I look forward to doing business with you.”
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S teve opened his door Friday afternoon, ready to collapse. He tossed his keys onto the hook near the door and kicked off his shoes while loosening his tie. He shuffled out of his jacket, sweat dripping down the back of his neck, but then went perfectly still. Someone was in his house. On his couch, to be specific. He couldn't see entirely from the hallway, but he saw a shadow of movement stand up.
“Steven David Tripp, why in the damn hell have you been avoiding me all week?”
“Ma?”
“Yes. Your mother,” she said, walking over and giving him a light slap on the shoulder.
“I've been busy.”
“Yeah, busy dodging my calls.” That's when the smell of creamy potatoes hit him. And pot roast in the oven. Both he and his stomach growled at the same time.
“You cooked me dinner?” Guilt flooded him all at once.
“I sure did,” she said, moving to the kitchen to stir something on the stovetop.
“Did you do that just to make me feel even worse about avoiding you?”
She looked up with a wink so fast that he may have missed it if he'd blinked. “Guilty,” she said. Molly was at Ma's feet, nudging her nose against her thigh begging for a slip of the hand and a wad of creamy potatoes to hit the floor. “Go set the table and have a nice dinner with your mother.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he said, gathering two plates from the cabinets and setting them on his little table alongside of utensils.
She spooned the potatoes and green beans onto each plate, while Steve carved the roast, serving her first. “Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot?” he asked, going to his wine rack and pulling out two different bottles.
She lifted a brow. “I thought Merlot was considered swill these days?”
“Nah. There's some great Merlots out there. It just got a bad rap for a while. And this one should actually go beautifully with the roast.”
“You and Noah are so much more alike than either of you want to admit.”
“Who says we don't want to admit that? In a different life, I could have been him... I know that. I also know that it probably would have destroyed me.”
He poured two glasses of Merlot and sat down across from her. Her blond bob had just one streak of gray in the front that framed her bright blue eyes. There were more lines around those eyes lately, but she was elegant and beautiful as ever. He held up his glass, hovering near hers. “What should we toast to?”
“How about to my son's happiness?” Her eyes sparkled as she stared at him dead on.
