He waited until she’d relaxed and slumped against him, exhausted by the late hour and the emotional storm. He ran his fingers through her hair and wondered if he should arrange for it to be trimmed. Maybe he could take her out to lunch this weekend, add in a little shopping and a trip to a beauty parlor. Did beauty parlors take little girls as customers?

He could ask Sylvie, he supposed, when he stopped by to check on Ned. Or Tess-he’d ask Tess. She’d love having one more opportunity to tell him what to do.

Rosie sniffed. “Are you going to send me back?”

Quinn squeezed his eyes shut, dreading the next question. But he had to ask. He owed it to Rosie. “Do you want to go?”

She didn’t answer at first, and he felt as though the rest of his life hung suspended in the silence. “Sometimes,” she said at last.

He blew out the breath he’d been holding. “Thank you for being honest about that.” Thank you for not saying yes.

“Do you want to send me back sometimes?”

“Never.” He straightened and drew her back so he could look her in the eye. “I want you to stay with me, Rosie. Not just for a while, while your mom’s making up her mind about what to do with her life. I want you to stay with me for good.”

He cleared his throat, as nervous as he’d been when he’d asked her mother to marry him. “Will you stay with me, Rosie? I know it’s been hard making this move, leaving your friends and your school. And I know it’s tough being so far from your mom. But I like having you here. I’ve got plans-good plans-for us both.”

She sniffed again and ran her hand beneath her nose. “What plans?”

“A house. I’ve been saving up for a house. I want you to have a big yard and a room for watching TV with your friends when they come over.”

“Could we have a swimming pool?”

He smiled. “I suppose we could plan for that, too.”

“Could we have a dog?”

“Didn’t I mention a dog?” He pulled her into another tentative hug, elated when she didn’t stiffen or resist. “I’ve been wanting one of those, too. For a long time.”

“Remember Banjo?” She yawned. “Could we get one like Banjo?”

“Sure.”

At the moment, he would have promised her anything. But it was late, and there was school tomorrow. And work. He yawned and finished it off with a tired groan, and his smart girl took the hint. “Guess it’s time for bed,” she said.

“Guess so.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Since I had to stay up so late tonight to wait for you, I’m probably going to be too tired to make my lunch in the morning. Can I have money for a hot lunch tomorrow?”

Smart girl, all right. He leaned to the side and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “Is a five enough?”

“Yep.” She plucked the bill from his fingers, and he knew he’d never see the change.

Women.

Rosie, Geneva, Tess, his ex. Why did all the women in his life have to be so smart-and cost him so much?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE ANNUAL University Foundation wine tasting was one of Geneva’s least favorite social events. She rarely enjoyed the local wines, she rarely wanted to bid on the auction items and she rarely cared for the conversation. But since she was one of this year’s organizers, she considered it her duty to arrive early and stay late.

She meandered through the noisy crowd in the Breakers Country Club banquet room, smiling at acquaintances and checking on details. Though it was a Thursday evening, the turnout was gratifying. The string quartet arranged by the music department was an improvement over last year’s guitar-playing duo. And the wine-tasting stations had been arranged to promote circulation rather than long lines.

Geneva’s good friend Maudie Keene waved to her from a table set along the far wall, where she’d been busy serving a surprisingly passable Riesling. Geneva had asked her to volunteer this evening, and Maudie had in turn asked her fiancé, Geneva’s cousin Ben, to assist. Maudie was radiant tonight in her new black dress and chic hairstyle. And Ben was looking his very best looking at Maudie.

Ah, love, with its talent for adding blushes and bounces and complications to life. Geneva had asked Maudie, again, when she and Ben were going to set a date. Maudie had skimmed her fingers through her auburn waves with a laugh and told her, again, that she’d be the third to know.

Geneva smiled as she sipped her Chardonnay and moved toward the buffet. Perhaps she’d offer Maudie the Chandler House gardens for her own wedding-an incentive to set a date before summer’s end. It had been far too long since Chandler House had been the scene of so many happy occasions.

“Well, Geneva, it’s good to see a smile on your face, considering all the bad luck you’ve been having on your building project.” Howard Cobb stepped into her path, gesturing with his wine and nearly sloshing it over the rim of his glass. “Or should I say, all the bad breaks?”

“Stick with ‘luck,’ Howard. The other phrasing isn’t as clever a pun as you obviously thought it might be.”

He moved uncomfortably close and turned to face the room, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her as if they were old friends trading observations on the gathering. “Speaking of bad luck,” he said, “I saw that bit on Channel Six about the latest accident at Tidewaters. Your contractor seems to have more than his fair share of it.”

“Perhaps.” She took another sip. “And perhaps there are more logical explanations for the damage and injuries.”

Howard grunted and nodded a greeting to a passing university prof. “Explanations?”

“Pouring sand into a piece of equipment isn’t a cause of bad luck. It’s a criminal offense. And the police are investigating the cause of Ned’s fall from the scaffolding. There are some doubts about whether that was an accident.”

“They should be investigating, then.” Howard leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Although it sounds like exactly the same thing happened on another of Quinn’s jobs. Maybe you should have done a little more checking into his background before you hired him.”

“It’s suprisingly generous of you to take such an active interest in my business affairs, Howard.” Geneva signaled to one of the college-student servers and placed her empty glass on the offered tray. “And since you do, I’ll share some more information. I signed another lease agreement today. For one of Tidewaters’ largest office spaces.”

She turned to face him. “Bradley and Garbett have decided they’d like to move their firm to a waterfront location after all.”

Howard’s face darkened, flushed with obvious anger. “I had an understanding with Bradley.”

“And now I have a lease with them both.”

“We’ll see if they keep it.”

Geneva kept her expression pleasant and serene as a nasty chill raced through her at the threat behind his words. “Yes, we’ll see.”

“Howard?” Ben joined them and clapped a hand on the councilman’s shoulder. “I thought that was you. How’s that son of yours enjoying college? He’s in San Diego, right?”

Howard turned toward Ben as Maudie appeared with a glass of champagne. “Here,” she said quietly as she handed it to Geneva. “You look like you could use this.”

“I’m not sure about the bubbles at the moment, but thanks.” Geneva took a tiny sip and sighed. “Thanks for coming to my rescue, but who is manning your station?”

“One of the grad students-a theater major. I told him I needed a break, and he jumped at the chance. Creep,” she said, with a daggered look for Howard. “I saw him leaning in close, looking for all the world as if you and he were old chums sharing a big secret. Ugh.”

“I did share a secret with him. I told him I stole one of his tenants today.”

“You didn’t.” Maudie laughed and finger-combed her bangs.

“I did.” Geneva’s tension eased, and she managed a small smile. “Tess and I took Jim Bradley and Jason Garbett out to lunch, and then she gave them a tour of some of the design work in her office. Jason is thinking of hiring her to do a vacation home for him next year.” Her smile widened. “My granddaughter is quite the saleswoman, if I do say so myself.”