Harbor Street (Cedar Cove #5)(7)

“I’ll be happy to keep her busy,” Cecilia assured her boss. There were always a number of small tasks she didn’t get to by the end of the day, and this would help her catch up before she took her maternity leave.

“Great.” Mr. Cox entered his office, still perusing his mail. “Thanks, Cecilia.”

Cecilia was busy all morning with only a short break—a telephone conversation with her best friend, Cathy Lackey, whose husband was aboard the George Washington with Ian. The two of them had formed their own support group and relied on each other when their husbands were out at sea. Rarely a day passed that they weren’t in touch with each other.

At three that afternoon, Allison Cox showed up at the office, just missing her father, who’d left to meet with a client. Allison was willowy and classic-featured, a lovely girl. She wore her dark-brown hair long, all the way to the middle of her back. As she removed her gray wool coat, Cecilia saw that she’d dressed for the office in a green plaid skirt and white turtleneck sweater. When Cecilia had first met her, Allison’s favorite color was black. The girl had rebelled against the destruction of her family and lashed out at those around her. Cecilia liked to think that their friendship had helped Allison. In reality, she supposed, it was her parents’ reconciliation that had changed the girl’s outlook on life. Still Cecilia liked to think she’d been a good influence, and Mr. Cox had frequently made a point of telling her she had.

That was two years ago, and Allison was now a high school senior.

“It’s so good to see you,” Allison said, hugging Cecilia, although it’d been less than a month since they’d spent time together. “How’s our baby doing?”

Cecilia pressed her hand to her stomach. “She’s kicking. Want to feel?”

Allison’s eyes widened. “Sure.”

Cecilia held the girl’s hand over her stomach and watched as Allison stared intently, bit her lower lip and then after a long moment, dejectedly shook her head. “I don’t feel anything.”

“It might be a little early yet,” Cecilia murmured, trying to remember how far along she’d been with the last pregnancy before Ian could feel their daughter’s movements.

Disappointed, Allison dropped her hand. “Well, I guess I’d better get to work.”

Cecilia set her up at a vacant desk across from her own. During tax season, when the accounting firm hired extra help, every square inch of space was used by temporary employees. It got fairly chaotic from January through April of every year.

Allison had been working for an hour when Mary Lou, who staffed the front desk, hurried into their work area. “There’s a young man asking to see you,” Mary Lou said to Allison. She cast a doubtful look at Cecilia as if to say she wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing.

“Did he give you his name?” Allison asked.

“No, but he said you’d know who he is.”

“What’s he wearing?”

Mary Lou edged closer and lowered her voice. “He has a goatee and has on a long black coat that’s got chains attached. He’s wearing a big cross, too. I don’t mind telling you, he looks a bit scary.”

“That’s Anson.” Allison stood and went out to the front. She was gone for ten minutes and was clearly pleased—no, downright jubilant—when she returned.

Cecilia was more than a little curious. “What was that about?” she asked. Without being obvious, she’d managed to get a glimpse of this Anson character through one of the office windows. Cecilia understood Mary Lou’s concerns. The boy’s hair was long, greasy and dark. His overcoat fanned out from his sides, as though he had weapons concealed beneath it. Presumably he didn’t, but still…He wasn’t the type of boy Cecilia expected Allison to be interested in.

“I barely know him,” Allison claimed. “He’s in my French class and he sits beside me. We’ve talked a couple of times and that’s about it.”

“How did he know you were here?”

Allison shrugged. “One of my friends must’ve told him.”

“Did he say what he wanted?”

“Not really. He asked about our French assignment.” She grinned shyly and glanced down at the floor. “That was just an excuse, though, ’cause then he asked what I was doing tonight.”

Cecilia nodded, a little worried about the girl’s attraction to this self-styled rebel.

“He lives with his mother,” Allison added.

“Oh.”

“I don’t think they get along very well,” she said thoughtfully.

Cecilia didn’t know what to say. “Would you go out with him if he asked?” she murmured. Whether Allison admitted it or not, she was attracted to the boy. Everything about her said so.

“I…I don’t know, but it’s irrelevant. Anson hasn’t asked and I doubt that he will. Guys like Anson don’t go out. They hang out.”

It was obvious that Mr. Cox hadn’t met the young man, and Cecilia could only imagine how he’d react if he found his daughter with Anson.

“Be careful,” Cecilia warned softly.

“Why?”

“Bad boys can be attractive, which translates into dangerous.”

Allison smiled. “Don’t worry. Like I said, we hardly know each other.”