The Good Girl's Second Chance (The Bravos Of Justice Creek 2) by Christine Rimmer

angry color flooding upward on her cheeks. When would people stop assuming that her mother made her choices for her? “Nell.” She made a show of clucking her tongue. “Where do I even start with you? Not fair. Not to Quinn. And not to me. He’s far from stupid and he’s done just fine for himself. We both know that. As for me, yes, it’s true. I
used
to let my mother have way too much influence over me. But that was then. Right this minute, I’m thirty-one, divorced, fully self-supporting and on my own. My mother has zero say about whom I go out with.”
    Nell’s lush mouth twisted. “Does your mother know that?”
    Busted. “I’ll say it again.
I
decide whom I spend time with.”
    Nell dropped her heavy boots to the floor, braced both elbows on the desk and folded her hands between them. “Am I pissing you off, Chloe?”
    The perennial good girl in Chloe pushed for denial, for smoothing things over after neatly sweeping them under the carpet. But no. The truth was better. “Yes, Nell. You are pissing me off.”
    “Good.” Nell tipped her head to the side. The overhead fluorescents made her fabulous hair shimmer like a red waterfall. “Don’t you hurt him, or you’ll be answering to me.”
    Chloe sat tall. “I don’t know for sure what’s going to happen. But Quinn’s an amazing man who means a lot to me. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt him.”
    Nell’s swivel chair squeaked as she flopped back in it and folded her arms across her spectacular breasts. She stared at Chloe, unblinking, for a grim count of ten. Then: “Look. I like your plans for the house. You know your job. I like the way you carry yourself. And I hardly knew you, back in the day. You were four years ahead of me in school. I only knew your reputation as the perfect one, the one headed for a good marriage to a rich husband, two-point-two children, a soccer-mom-and-country-club life—and some chichi career that you could fit in between social engagements.”
    “Something like interior design, you mean?”
    “Hey. If the glass slipper fits...”
    “As it turned out, it didn’t. Not by a long shot. And that was then, Nell. I’m not that girl anymore.”
    Another long, measuring stare from Nell. Finally, she shrugged. “You know, I think I believe you.” She got up and held down her hand. Chloe did want peace with Quinn’s sister—with all of his family. After a moment’s hesitation, she took Nell’s offered hand and rose. Nell said, “Looking forward to working with you.”
    “I’m sure it will be interesting.”
    “Right. And listen. When you tell Quinn about this little talk we had—”
    Chloe didn’t even let her finish. “Why would I tell him? The way I see it, what just happened is between you and me.”
    Nell arched an auburn eyebrow. “Fair enough.” And then she grumbled, “I’m really starting to like you. How ’bout that?”
    “I’m glad. I’m going to do my best not to disappoint you—though you did go a little overboard just now.”
    Always a fighter, Nell stuck out her chin. “You think so?”
    “Yes, I do. Then again, it’s nice to know how much you love your brother and that you have his back.”
    * * *
    That evening, Chloe spent a pleasant hour with a sketch pad, drawing a series of small figures that looked a lot like Annabelle. The figures all wore different versions of a magical, multilayered, brightly colored fairy princess costume, complete with wings—because what’s a fairy princess costume unless there are wings?
    A little later, when Quinn showed up, she took him downstairs to her home office and showed him the drawings.
    “She would love it,” he admitted with some reluctance. And then he shook his head. “You know she wants a puppy, too? There’s no end to what Annabelle wants.”
    Chloe laughed. “The puppy’s your problem.”
    “So far, we’re holding the line on that.”
    “I just want to make this costume for her.”
    He took the sketch pad from her,