Daisy's Choice (A Tale of Three Hearts) Page 3

  Daisy laughed. She combed through her daughter's soft natural locks with her fingers. Amy's skin was a dusky shade of brown, a tad lighter than her own. “Mommy missed you. That’s why. We can get our nails done.” She picked up her little hand with her pink polish, kissing the tips. “And our toes done. Go to the boardwalk and ride the Ferris wheel.”

  “Really? You gonna get on with me?”

  “I sure am.”

  “M-kay.”

  Daisy smiled. “I missed you.”

  “Me too, mommy. Oh, can I get a toy too? All of mine are broke.”

  Daisy laughed. “Come here.”

  She pulled her close and pressed her to her heart. Finally the emptiness eased away, replaced by the feeling of love she had with her little girl. This was the only home she had now. She'd continue to find ways to make peace with that.

  ***

  Three Days Later

  A tendril of hair dropped over Daisy’s left eye. She brushed it in place with her hand and slumped back in her chair. Closing her eyes, she opened them once more and tried for focus. Her mind wouldn’t allow her peace; her heart wouldn’t allow her to forget. Daisy looked away from the invoices on the computer’s monitor to the windows of her office. There beyond the stretched palms and nicely groomed Cyprus was a winding road. It led out of the mountain into the small community of Mango Grove.

  Daisy stared at the grass greener than Kentucky's, and her thoughts again drifted to home. Her mother’s parting words echoed through her subconscious, sending spasms of sorrow and regret piercing her heart. Quiet moments like this were torture. She forced herself to understand her mother’s pain over her own. Could Amy ever disappoint her to the point she’d turn her away as her mom did? Daisy doubted it. She wouldn’t be that mother, because she learned something that the walls of her church didn’t teach her; something Aiden Keane’s lesson burned into her soul. Pride cometh before the fall.

  Daisy closed her eyes to reject the tears building and gathering like an internal storm. What happened broke her heart, but even worse, it severed a bond she and her mother shared. She deserved it. Even if five years later she longed to be just Daisy Johnson again.

  “Danielle?”

  Daisy blinked away tears. Clara, a twenty-something brunette with a California tan and Malibu figure, tossed her dark locks and stepped inside of her office.

  “What is it?”

  “We need to talk.”

  She watched her reach back and close the door, deciding on the conversation before Daisy could agree to it. Clara approached in high-heels that seemed to stretch her legs and make her taller while dressed in a short brown skirt and a powder-blue silk blouse. Her hands clasped before her and she looked too cheery for this day.

  Clara was the first and only friend she made. That friendship was just shy of three years. Now they were business partners, a 60/40 split that helped Daisy secure the anonymity she so fiercely protected.

  “It’s about Serenity.”

  “Not now, Clara.”

  “Hear me out. I found land. A perfect little spot that’s near Tucson, Arizona. It's famous for their spas but not like ours. Not with your flair. We need to strike now while the iron is hot. They are dying to meet with us, Danielle.”

  Daisy shook her head to the same argument. Clara’s ambition was becoming a problem. She’d gone against her wishes and booked celebrities. The last one had them on TMZ with paparazzi helicopters circling. She couldn’t risk it. The phones were ringing off the hook to learn more of the exclusive spa and its owners. Clara was handling the press, but soon the camera would turn her way. If that happened, all bets were off.

  “Before you say no, think about it. Serenity will be a sister spa to Jahi. We can keep Jahi as exclusive as you want. Serenity could expand and give service to—”

  Daisy waved off the rest, “Let me think on it.”

  “I booked time for us next week. We can fly out there and check it out.”

  “You did what?”

  Clara blinked, unapologetic. “I'm your business manager and part owner of your business, remember? For two years, you've trusted me to be the face and personality of Jahi. And look what we've done in just two years! We’re busting at the seams.”

  “Then cancel appointments. Take those we can manage. Cut back on the staff, and focus more on quality than quantity. You know how I feel about this.”

  “Feel about it? Danielle, you won’t even talk about it. This is a business, a good one, not your personal shelter.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That was out of line. I apologize.”

  “No, don’t backtrack now. Finish. Say what you mean.”

  “Sometimes I feel like you're paranoid,” Clara sighed. “You won’t let the press in here. You barely meet with clients. You live like you’re ready to bolt at any moment. And then you left town and came back without explanation. After two years of my knowing you and never seeing you with a single person, it is a little strange. I'm not stupid. Something keeps you locked away. Danielle, you won’t even date.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m a grown woman with a daughter. I have priorities. Okay?”

  “Sorry. Sure. But the day I arrived here you said this was your dream. You deserve success. All of it. I just want to get us there.”

  “I’m not trying to get rich. I’m just trying to take care of Amy.” Daisy sat forward. She rubbed out the pressure in her temples with her fingers.

  “Too bad, you are rich. This place is the sought after spa on the West Coast. Right now, we only service the elite. But we can’t sustain like this. It’s not our destiny.”

  Daisy sighed. She didn’t want to continue with the same debate. Destiny? Clara, in her twenty-something years, had no clue about destiny. Nor did she understand the truth.

  “Fine. I’ll take the meeting, and then we talk about it. Okay?”

  Clara winked. “It’s going to be great. You’ll see. This will change our lives. Forever.”

  Daisy watched her go. She shook her head. Forever didn’t seem long enough. She wanted her life changed permanently. Reaching for the mouse, she moved it and the screen saver swiped away. Her fingers quickly typed words on the keyboard: The Hollow Creek Tribune. She checked the local report for news on her father. Nothing. No news was good news. Right?

  ***

  “Nooooooooooooo!”

  The deep gut-wrenching wail cut through Nina’s heart. She turned from the scene and pushed past Dr. Johannes, Bea and other members of the Johnson family to rush out into the hall. Dropping back against the wall, she sucked in deep breaths, but her lungs burned from a shared feeling of despair. Martha Johnson’s wails and the sobs of her daughters hit her hard.

  Charles Johnson, minister, counselor, faithful leader of First Baptist Church, was dead.

  He slipped away peacefully without fuss, but the heartache and grief left behind had ripped apart the seam of his family and this town. Nothing would be the same.

  Nina put her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. She would have to call Pete. Call him now.

  ****

  Aiden faced the wind as he strolled away from his chauffeured car over the gravel parking lot to Ed's Diner. He yanked open the glass door. Bells and chimes looming above the threshold sang. Entering to the smell of fried meat and fresh brewed coffee, Aiden paused. His eyes swept the diner and the booth seats. The sign before him said he should wait to be seated, but the word 'wait' was missing the letter 'i'. Aiden smirked and walked through the diner.

  Mathew Sterling looked up halfway at his arrival. He rose, abruptly nodding respectfully and extending his hand. “Mr.… um... Mr. Keane,” he said.

  “Sit,” Aiden advised, coolly taking to the barely comfortable bench seat.

  “Ah, forgive me. I um… ordered. Would you like—”

  “You said it was important. Daisy? Is she here?”

  “Well, not exactly, sir.”

  Aiden narrowed his stare. “What does that
mean, not exactly?”

  “We’ve been monitoring the hospital. Actually, we’ve hired some inside help. A woman by the name of Susanne Doyle. She works the nightshift," Mathew said, removing his notepad to check his notes. "She's related to Peter Doyle.”

  “You hired Pete's family?”

  “Yes, sir. And she’s received a nice stipend to stay loyal to us. The Doyle's are no fans of Daisy Johnson. She keeps tabs on the boy and also the reverend. She called and informed me that Daisy made a visit three days ago after or around midnight."

  Aiden tensed. He tried to hear the rest, but all he could see of the man before him was lips moving as everything went mute. All he could focus on was the fact she had returned. She was alive and out there. And close.

  Then the sounds of the diner came back. Again he heard dinnerware clinking and orders being shouted to the cook. The door to the kitchen cut through the air with a swoosh as it swung back for the staff that kept coming and going.

  “My contact held on to the news. Said she couldn’t find my number. Nonsense. I think she's hustling me to keep the money coming. However, she was successful in gaining us access to the hospital security system. These pictures were taken from the inside cameras at the emergency entrance and Charles Johnson's floor.

  Aiden accepted the folder. He laid it flat before him and opened it slowly. It was Daisy. She stepped through the double doors. Impeccably dressed. Her hair was longer and cast in a straight style past her shoulders, colored dark brown and streaked with a hint of sunshine. He couldn't see her face in the first image, but he knew it was her. The next image was clear, as if she looked into the lens of the camera just for him. Beautiful.

  “Wh-where,” he stammered.

  “Sir, unfortunately we don’t know where she came from. We got information on the limo service. They claim she rented the car from the airport and paid in cash. She gave them her real name, Daisy Johnson and used her real identification, not the assumed one we believe she lives under. After the visit, they returned her to the airport and she departed, to where they didn’t know. That morning there were only four major connecting flights. She could have boarded a plane to Los Angeles, Chicago, New York and Atlanta. From there she could have flown anywhere.”

  Aiden turned over the next picture. He studied Daisy. She wore a solemn yet determined look. The next image showed her leaving in tears. He felt a tightening of his chest at the sight of her distress. Words could not describe what it was to see her again. Changed. But still it was her. Where had she been? Where did she go?

  Aiden swallowed. He closed the folder. His eyes smoldered with rage before he looked up at the man before him. “Is this all?”

  “Sir?”

  “Is this all?”

  The couple across from them stared. Aiden felt their eyes but didn’t care. Mathew Sterling’s phone rang inside his coat pocket. He retrieved it and smirked at the number. “It’s the hospital, Mr. Keane.” He took the call as Aiden watched, deciding on how he’d destroy everyone in his path until they brought her to him, starting with the inept detective before him that let her slip away.

  Mathew nodded, said a few words, and then hung up. “Sir, that was the hospital. Reverend Johnson is dead. That means Daisy is coming home. And we’ll be ready for her this time. I guarantee it.”

  Aiden sat back. He tapped a finger on the table. It was a nervous habit since he parted with his golden coin. Some of the tension squeezing his heart released but not all. She was coming home. He’d be waiting.

  ***

  “Pete! Phone!”

  Pete looked up from his crouched spot under the hood. He barely heard his manager over the tunes. “What?”

  “Phone!” his manager yelled back. The others, working with drills and machinery, distorted the message before it reached his ears. Daniel made the hand gesture of a phone and then walked back inside to the customer waiting area. Pete wiped the oil on his hands over his dungarees and went to the wall phone with the smudged dirty prints from all the guys. He hit the orange button and pressed the receiver to his ear.

  “Pete here.”

  “Hi,” Nina answered softly.

  “Nina? Something wrong?”

  “Yes, Pete. I’m sorry. Reverend Johnson passed away.”

  Pete stood there for a moment, stunned. Though he knew it was possible, the mere thought of it floored him. He couldn’t speak. He barely could digest the news. “What happened?”

  “He had another stroke earlier this morning. They stabilized him, but his heart couldn’t take it. I’m so sorry, Pete.”

  “You okay?”

  “No,” she wept. “It’s so horrible. Everyone’s here. They’re all here and—”

  “I’m on my way.”

  He hung up and wiped his greasy hand down his face. Hot tears stung the corners of his eyes, and a tidal wave of emotion broke over him. He remembered laughing with Daisy in high school about meeting her father and rehearsing the dinner etiquette at the Reverend’s table. No talking when he spoke. Always answer with a sir or mam. Pray before you eat. Keep his hands off her under his watchful glare.

  The day he told the Reverend about Daisy came back as well. And the old pain of losing her to his pride nearly broke his heart again. He walked stiffly, dragging behind him more than fatigue or regret. He grieved for the Johnson family but mostly for Daisy.

  “Everything okay, Petie?” Maurice their tire specialist asked.

  “No. Reverend Johnson died."

  "Shucks, that's awful. Everyone was hoping he'd pull through."

  "Yeah, can you um… cover… I got something—”

  “Sure, gotcha back. It’s cool.”

  “Thanks.” Pete headed for the employee room to get his keys and cap. He wouldn’t have time to change. No time to cry.

  ****

  Nina sat in bleak silence. She hadn’t been this affected by death since she lost her sister to pneumonia. Usually, she dealt with grieving families the best but not this. Not this.

  There were so many battles waging in her. She never told Pete about Daisy’s return. She couldn’t. She was so scared of what it meant and jealous of Daisy's haughty nature, her confidence. She hated herself for it. The guilt was getting in the way of their news. With Pete opening his shop, getting the loan, and the ring she found in his jeans, it made all of it dampened by the secrecy and lie of omission. He was close to being hers. Was it wrong to want to protect it?

  Then there was that blasted card that was the one connection to Daisy wherever she went. Neither Martha Johnson nor her daughters asked for it, though she doubted they knew that she kept it. Nina stared at it constantly, debated, debated, debated how and when to turn it over to Pete. She even went on the internet at the nurse’s station and looked up Jahi Salon and Spa. It was some swank exclusive spa that was appointment only. But who was Danielle? Was that her name now?

  Nina reached in her pocket and removed her change purse. Inside she withdrew the card. The reverend was dead, and the whole town shook with grief as word spread with the flood of tears flowing out of his hospital room. From his congregation to his family, this affected everyone.

  Daisy was out there, unaware. Nina felt compelled to deliver the news. It was the least she could do after keeping the truth from Pete. But at what cost?

  ****

  Daisy rubbed her temples. It was close to three. She would need to leave soon to pick up Amy. When the phone rang, she didn’t even blink. Her phone rang constantly. Clara was right. The calls were flooding in since that television starlet’s visit. She refused an offer to have her spa products, most tested and created with her ideas in mind, featured on the celebrity’s talk show. Clara hadn’t recovered from that one. She loved her business. Loved what she made from nothing. Only half of the million dollars helped her start it. The rest of her fortune was squired by her own hard work and a stroke of luck when she convinced the owner to sell this place to her, debts and all. With her new identity and an infant needing her, she launche
d her dream. But success came too fast and Daisy felt too exposed. Clara was a godsend. She had no problem stepping into the limelight. Daisy even trusted her with her proxy to manage business deals. Now Clara wanted more and again she'd have to find a way to protect her anonymity.

  Reaching for the phone, she sighed. “Danielle Locke speaking.”

  “Ah, hi. I was hoping to speak to Daisy Johnson. Is this Daisy?”

  She froze. Her heart literally stopped beating. She could barely swallow, let alone speak.