Sisters by Choice Page 9

  Her voice softened. “I’m sorry to do this to you, Heather. You’re a good girl and I love you very much. I worry about you being trapped. You need to grow a spine and get out of there. You have savings. Just go.”

  “Had savings,” Heather whispered, wondering how she was going to manage this. Finding a new place to live would be a nightmare. Living on the island was cheaper than living in Seattle, but still. Rent was going to be way more than what they paid here.

  “Right. The car. If you don’t get out of there, she’s going to suck the life out of you. She’ll use you until her dying day. She’s my daughter and I probably shouldn’t talk like that but we both know it’s true. So I’m selling the house. A real estate agent will be in touch with you to explain the process. I’m going to have to pay to fix up the place a little. You won’t have to move out until we close escrow, but I want you to know it’s coming.”

  Heather fought against tears as she nodded. “I understand.” Her grandmother wasn’t wrong to want what was hers, but still—what a mess for them.

  “I’m going to call your mother now so you don’t have to be the one to tell her. That way I’ll be the bad guy instead of you. I hope you’ll come to see why I have to do this. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Bye, Grandma.”

  Heather hung up and set her phone on the desk. Terror gripped her so tightly she couldn’t breathe. They were going to lose the house. They had nowhere else to go. She was going to have to rent an apartment, which meant a lease in her name. No way Amber would take on the responsibility. She would be legally tied to the rental and to the island and her mother, very possibly forever.

  * * *

  Kristine finished paying the last of the bills. After recording the transaction numbers in the checkbook, she closed the banking program, then opened Excel. She’d been unable to let go of the idea of renting the old bakery space. It would be perfect for her and she was fairly sure she could get herself up and running well before tourist season started.

  She was still working out the numbers. Once she grew a pair and called the leasing agent about seeing the place, she could figure out what remodeling would be required and get a bid. With that number and the rent information, she could finalize her business plan and figure out if she was going to talk to Jaxsen about the opportunity.

  Not that he would be excited about it, she thought sadly. Every time she’d brought up opening a retail store rather than working out of the house, he’d had a dozen reasons why it wouldn’t work. The first time he’d told her the boys were too young. The second time they’d just had to replace the roof and that had set them back financially. Now, well, she didn’t know what he was going to say but regardless, she was determined to stand her ground.

  Maybe.

  The indecision made her want to slap herself. Either she believed and got going or she needed to stop playing what-if. The kids were older, the old bakery site had promise and if she didn’t do it now, then she was never going to do it. The truth wasn’t pleasant but liking or not liking it didn’t make it any less real.

  She heard footsteps in the hall and quickly closed Excel. Jaxsen walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “The boys are still watching their movie,” he said, not quite meeting her gaze as he spoke.

  She held in a sigh as she wondered what was on his mind. Did he want a newer truck? Another ATV? Not skis—it wasn’t the season, and there was no way she was getting a Jet Ski for Grant. He was way too young.

  “The boys and I have been talking about our summer plans,” he said. “We want to do a lot of hiking and camping.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  His gaze met hers. “The boys are too big for the tent. JJ’s taller than you and Tommy’s not much behind him.”

  Her heart sank as she realized where the conversation was going. “Jaxsen, no.”

  He ignored her. “We should buy a tent trailer.”

  She thought about all the sports equipment littering the side yard and the camping equipment filling an entire bay of the garage. “Don’t we already have enough?”

  “I’d get rid of most of what we have.” His voice quickened with excitement. “Come on, Kristine, it would be great. I found the one I want online. It’s perfect. It has everything, even a shower package.”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know how much it would cost.

  “It’s for the family,” he told her. “Something we can do together. Something the boys will remember for the rest of their lives.”

  And there it was. The guilt trip. Because any time Jaxsen talked about something being “for the family” it usually meant it was something for him and the boys and she should agree because there were four of them and only one of her. When that didn’t work, he pulled out “the boys will remember it forever.” The fact that he’d gone there right away warned her there was more bad news coming.

  “And?” she asked.

  “It’s only twenty thousand dollars.”

  “Twenty thousand?” She worked hard to keep her jaw from dropping. “Are you kidding? Where would we get that kind of money?”

  “We’d take ten thousand from the house equity line of credit we have. We don’t owe anything on that.”

  He was right about that. Seven years ago his parents had insisted they take out a line of credit on the equity in their house. Prices in the area were starting to rise and the older couple had told them it was always a good idea to have a buffer in case of an emergency. They’d followed the advice and had had to use the line of credit twice since then. Kristine always made sure they paid it off as quickly as possible. She didn’t want it to be part of their regular budget. Only now Jaxsen wanted to use it for a tent trailer.

  “So you want to finance the rest of it?” she asked, wondering how much that payment would be. Plus the line of credit, she thought grimly. That would be a big blow to their monthly budget. She didn’t think their cash flow could handle that at all.

  “There’s the money from your grandmother.”

  At first she didn’t understand what he was saying, but as soon as the meaning sank in, she rose to her feet and glared at him.

  “No.” Her tone was flat.

  “You’re so damned unreasonable.”

  “Am I? My grandmother left me that money. It’s mine and you will not use it for a tent trailer.”

  “Why not? Why are you keeping it? Why are you so selfish? We’re married. That money should be for the family.”

  This wasn’t the first fight over her inheritance and she doubted it would be the last. From the moment they’d found out her maternal grandmother had left her ten thousand dollars, Jaxsen had been itching to spend it. No matter how many times she tried to explain that it was special and she wanted to use it for something significant, something that would make a difference in her life, he insisted it wasn’t a her thing, it was a them thing.

  “Why does it bug you so much that I have that?” she asked. “Why can’t I have something of my own? Why do you want to take that from me?”

  “I’m not taking it. We’re a family. We work together. But you have to keep something all to yourself. It’s not right.”

  He stood as he spoke, looking just as pissed as she felt. She thought about pointing out that legally, the money was solely hers. As long as she kept it in a separate account, it wasn’t community property. Jaxsen hadn’t been happy to find that out.

  “Jaxsen, I’m not spending that money on a tent trailer. If you want to talk about financing, then I guess we’ll have that discussion, but I have to say, I really think it’s not something we can afford.”

  “But we can afford it, if you’ll just kick in some money. Why is that unreasonable? I work hard and I pay for all this. I don’t keep part of my paycheck from you, Kristine. I give every penny of it to the family. All I’m asking is that you do the
same.”

  “I do. All the profits from my business go back into the household. And I do exactly the same when I earn a paycheck in the summer. Every dime goes into our checking account. You know that. Don’t pretend it’s otherwise.”

  “You spend a lot of what you make from the cookies on supplies. And you bought a new mixer last year.”

  The implied accusation infuriated her. “The old one broke. How am I supposed to make batches of cookies without a mixer? It’s a business. Of course there are expenses.”

  She shook her head. “Here’s what I don’t get. You fought me on getting a job. You told me I needed to be here for the boys. So I came up with something I can do from home, that really doesn’t get in the way of anything, and now you’re fighting me on that. At the same time you complain I’m not bringing in any money. There’s no win for me.”

  She wanted to say more but knew there was no point. She didn’t know if he genuinely didn’t understand or if he didn’t want to understand.

  She waited to see if he would say anything else, but he only turned away from her so she went to go check on the boys. When they were all tucked into bed, she retreated to the basement. The sofa there was plenty comfortable. Not that she would sleep much. She was too upset.

  Jaxsen was a great guy and a good father. He loved his family; he was involved with the kids. He didn’t cheat and when he hung out with his friends, it was always at one of their houses where they might have a third round of beers and yell at the TV during a game.

  But there were sides of him she couldn’t understand. He could be unreasonable, especially when it came to her working and definitely about the inheritance. No matter how she tried to get him to see her side, to bend just a little, he refused to understand, leaving her to always compromise. She wasn’t sure she had anything else left to offer on the subject.

  As she got a pillow and blanket out of the closet in the basement, she thought about the old bakery shop and wondered how many blood vessels he would blow if she wanted to talk about that. It wouldn’t be pretty. Which meant what? That she shouldn’t try? That she should live the small life that he’d assigned her? That wasn’t what she wanted and in her gut, she didn’t think it was what Jaxsen wanted for her, either. Yet, it was how he acted and she genuinely didn’t know how to get him to change or herself to accept. Was she really expected to pretend she didn’t want something beyond what she had? She loved her family more than anything, but it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

  Chapter Eight

  “Sophie Lane?”

  “Yes.” Sophie pressed the speaker button on her cell phone so she could talk and continue to fill her desk with office supplies. The office furniture had been delivered a couple of days ago, but she hadn’t had time to settle in her office.

  She’d left the largest space for a conference room. Not that they had a conference table or even chairs, but they would eventually. Right now meetings happened on the fly. In time things would get more organized but until then, everyone had to make do.

  “I’m Jessica from the animal shelter. I’m calling to follow up on your application to foster a pregnant cat.”

  “Oh, right. Hi.” Sophie stopped loading pens and paper clips and stared at her phone. “My cousin told me about your organization.” A couple of nights ago, on a whim, Sophie had gone online and filled out the paperwork. “I lost my cat recently. I had CK for nearly sixteen years.” She felt her throat tighten. “She was such a good girl and I miss her. I’m not ready to adopt, but I wanted to do something, you know? I need to have a cat in my life.”

  “This sounds like a good way to do that,” Jessica said.

  “I’ve never had a pregnant cat before. I’d want an experienced mom who knows what she’s doing.”

  “We have plenty of those to offer. You know once the kittens are born, you keep them until they’re ready to be adopted.”

  “I can do that. I know about socializing them.”

  “Good. We would love your help. It’s kitten season and we simply don’t have room at the shelter for all the pregnant cats that will be brought in. Are you in a house or an apartment?”

  “A house. I’m renting. I cleared this with the landlord. I have an extra bedroom.” She hesitated. “I really want to do this.”

  “Excellent. We’ll be in touch in a few days to let you know when to expect your mama cat.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  When she’d hung up, Sophie thought briefly about feline birthing and decided it was better to wait and panic in the moment. She didn’t have a lot of free time these days to worry about an event that wasn’t even on the calendar right now.

  She finished loading her desk, confirmed her new landline worked and debated transferring files from her laptop to her new desktop, then decided this wasn’t the time.

  She rose and walked out of her office only to almost literally run into Dugan. He was standing in the hallway, looking incredibly sexy in jeans and a dark blue sweater. The fine gauge of the knit told her the sweater wasn’t cheap and she would bet it was soft to the touch. She was just about to reach toward him to find out when the obvious question occurred to her.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He gave her a lazy grin. “Hello to you, too.”

  “Hello. What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to check things out. The island is buzzing about what you have going on here.”

  She wasn’t sure what that meant. Was he curious or needy? Because while the former was acceptable, the latter gave her the willies, even if he did smell like sexy soap and look dreamy enough to star in his own calendar.

  “No Tai Chi this morning?” she asked.

  “Only in private.”

  Which was a very normal thing to say, so why did it sound suggestive?

  “You’d like a tour,” she said.

  “Very much.”

  “Okay, but there’s not that much to see.” She turned in a circle then started pointing. “These are the offices. Mine, one for an office manager, marketing, sales, the bookkeeper.”

  “They’re all empty. Doesn’t a business do better when there are employees?”

  “The bookkeeper starts Monday. I haven’t hired any of the other positions. The people the employment agency sent weren’t right for me. Besides, the front end of the business isn’t as important as the real work done in the warehouse.”

  “But if you don’t have a sales department, then you’re not going to have orders for the warehouse to fulfill.”

  She patted his arm. “Nearly all of our business comes from online orders through the website.”

  “I get that but where are your digital advertising people? You need to have targeted ads online. You can’t keep running the same four ads.”

  She looked at him, wondering if there was some kind of brain behind the beautiful blue eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “I hear things.”

  “Okay, I outsource a lot of the advertising. It’s cheaper and more efficient.”

  “You’re big enough to have it in-house. Then you would have total control. Right now you’re getting more of a one-size-fits-all approach.”

  “The company I use is really good.” She had a sudden urge to tell him not to worry his pretty head about it, which was ridiculous and insulting to both of them. “As for a sales manager, I have my eye on someone. I’m hoping to get her in here for an interview in the next few weeks. Let’s go to the real heart of the organization.”

  They walked into the warehouse. There had been a delivery that morning. Huge boxes were stacked on pallets. One of Bear’s guys was moving things around with the forklift. Dugan took in the rows of shelves and the large shipping area.

  He pointed to a twelve-inch-by-twelve-inch sticky note on the wall by Bear’s office. “What’s that?”

  “I leave notes
.”

  He looked from the sticky note to her and back. “Let me guess. You work later than everyone else and leave them around for people to find in the morning.”

  She wasn’t sure why but his comment made her feel defensive. “I see things that need to be corrected or I offer a suggestion for a problem. I always use the same color note so people know it’s from me.”

  “You don’t think the size is a giveaway?”

  “I like to have room to say what I want to say.”

  “I can see that.”

  He walked toward the rows of shelves filled with products. There were bags of litter, stacks of all kinds of cat food—canned, freeze-dried, dry. There were snacks, toys of every variety, beds, crates, carriers, cat trees, treats, collars, leashes and clothes.

  Dugan took it all in. She wondered what he was thinking. This must be so different for him—not Tai Chi at all. People hustled and things happened.

  “Do you have a retail presence?” he asked.

  “Some. In the chains mostly.”

  “You buy existing items and rebrand them as Clandestine Kitty.” He pointed to the canned food. “This is someone else’s formulation.”

  “Yes. We have a handful of items we’ve formulated ourselves, but it’s prohibitively expensive. These days there are so many high quality foods out there so I don’t see the point in coming up with our own.”

  “I agree with you on that. Some products don’t have enough differentiation to make the research and development costs worthwhile. But why not original toys or beds or something?”