Running From Love Read online

  Yeah, Poppy could leave, but who would help Mimi the way Mimi had once upon a time helped her? She handed Mimi the towel. Mimi dabbed at her chest with one hand as she cradled Hazel against her side with the other.

  Once cleaned off, Mimi settled down into a cross-legged seat on the blanket with Hazel. “You know, I forgot to ask you. Whatever happened to that guy? The poet? What was his name? Terrance, or Tyler, or … started with a T?”

  “Trevor.” His name on Poppy’s lips sent desire mixed with sadness rolling through her body.

  “Trevor! That’s it. What happened with him? Seemed like you two were kind of …” She tossed the rag toward the diaper bag. “I don’t know … serious?”

  Poppy looked toward Laura. She sat beneath a giant playground turtle beside a little boy with blond curls.

  “He … his contract at Mesquale was up too.”

  Mimi unsnapped her shirt. “Right. I remember that part. Wasn’t he going to Hong Kong too?”

  Poppy shook her head. “No, I mean he wanted to, we wanted to—”

  “Oh Pop, I’m sorry.” Mimi brought Hazel to her breast. “We ruined your holiday.”

  “No, no, no.” Poppy waved her hand. “It wasn’t like that. You know me, different guy every six months. I’m not about to get serious with a bartender from Mesquale. Right? A poet? That’s a bit dodgy, isn’t it?”

  “Hmm,” Mimi said. “Seemed a bit more serious to me the way you talked about him.” She lifted an eyebrow. “I couldn’t remember the last time you told me about someone you were dating. He sounded nice. Wasn’t he from California?”

  Poppy shrugged. The conversation was too close to her heart. “I think. San Francisco, Los Angeles … I’m not sure.”

  “Not sure? Or maybe just don’t want to know? Always the same Poppy. Love them and leave them. Won’t be seeing you tied down with little ones anytime soon.”

  “No, you won’t.” Poppy smiled. “Being Awesome Auntie is enough for me.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it, really.” And three months ago those words would have been true, but last night, as she’d bathed Laura, her niece’s little arms had curved around Poppy’s neck. As she inhaled the sweet warm scent of clean little girl, Poppy for the first time in forever thought of having a home. A husband. A family. The one person who had been in her mind was Trevor.

  Then she’d smashed those thoughts away by remembering she didn’t want to be tied down. Didn’t want to be responsible for anyone but herself. Didn’t want to give her heart to another person. Besides she’d killed that possibility. Trevor hadn’t texted or called in nearly six days, and by now his contract was over and he’d left Mesquale.

  “Okay. She’s finished. Maybe we should pack up and head home. Laura needs a nap this afternoon or she’ll be an absolute bear.” Mimi removed Hazel from her breast and placed her over her shoulder for a good burp.

  Poppy rolled onto her knees and started to pack away the containers that had held their lunch. No, even if Trevor had been more than a passing fancy, a moment in time, that moment had passed. Once she was finished playing nanny to her nieces, she too, would be on her way to another far-off locale, far, far away from California or any other place that Trevor Brice might be.

  *

  “Come in,” Trevor called. The front door to his parents’ house was unlocked. The front door was always unlocked, because to get to the door, you had to get through a giant locked gate, a guardhouse, three attack dogs, and patrolling security. To leave your front door unlocked in Los Angeles was a privilege that his family took full advantage of. He padded barefoot down the gargantuan staircase, one of two that led to the three-story marble foyer.

  Why did his mom continue to live here? She hardly needed nine bedrooms, twelve bathrooms, a formal dining room, and two kitchens. The house was cold. Wouldn’t she be happier in a smaller luxe condo or townhouse? This giant Bel Air home had been his grandparents’ first big purchase when Up Side took off. An enormous home for their family. That family, through tragedy, old age, and disease, had been whittled down to just him and Mom. The two final survivors.

  Ah, it hit him like a punch to the chest. Of course. This house was his legacy as much as the company was. His mom kept this place for him and the family that she so desperately wanted in his future. Trevor pulled air deep into his lungs. Again he was a tragic disappointment, because had no desire to reside in this giant museum of a home.

  The door opened and Robert, Stephanie’s dad, walked into the house.

  “Hey, Trev! Good to see you.” He’d been Up Side’s security chief for over two decades, and he’d also been tasked with keeping Trevor safe all through childhood and adolescence. Robert knew way more about Trevor than Trevor ever wanted anyone to know.

  “Want some breakfast?”

  Robert followed Trevor through the long marble hallway toward the kitchen and the family room, where once upon a time, when Trevor actually lived here, he and his parents had done most of their living.

  “Breakfast? Man, it’s nearly eleven. You are living the luxe life if you’re just getting around to breakfast.”

  “Still up by four, run finished by five?” Trevor asked.

  Robert sat on a stool beside the kitchen island. He placed the folder he carried onto the white granite countertop.

  “Habits create character,” Robert said, shooting Trevor a sly grin. “Thought I taught you that one around sixteen?”

  “You did. Time change, man. Promise. By the end of the week, I’ll be doing the ‘run before sun’ thing just like you taught me.”

  “Right.”

  Trevor handed Robert a bottle of water.

  “I ran that name through like you asked.” Robert flipped open the folder. A giant picture of Poppy filled the first sheet.

  Trevor’s body jolted. His heart hammered and adrenaline rushed through his system. Those eyes, that skin, her curls. His breath caught in his chest. Damn. He loved her. This was just a picture and he could barely breathe.

  “Seems like a pretty interesting girl.” Robert lifted the first picture. “One arrest, a civil disobedience charge in Paris. No other priors. Graduated Magna Cum Laude from the University of Sydney.”

  “What?” Trevor’s head jerked back. “Sure you got the right girl?

  “I’m sure. Has a father in Australia. A brother in Malaysia. A sister and two nieces here in Los Angeles, and a mother she doesn’t see who is currently at UCLA Medical Center.” Robert passed Trevor picture after picture of Poppy’s family as he laid out the details of Poppy’s life.

  “She works at Mesquale half the year and then travels the other half. Her passport looks like a UN reunion. I don’t think there’s a country she hasn’t visited.”

  “That’s Poppy.” Trevor scanned the printout that Robert had acquired from who knows what government agency.

  “Don’t ask where I got that,” Robert said. “If I told you I’d have to kill you.”

  “Wouldn’t want that, you’d really piss off Adele.”

  “Your mother pissed scares the hell out of me.”

  “That’s saying something. So the million dollar question—where is she?”

  “Poppy Martin? This girl?” Robert pointed to the picture of Poppy smiling with the wind blowing her hair. “Well, your friend was right, she’s in Los Angeles. You’re not going to believe how close.” Robert shook his head.

  “Where?” Trevor could barely get the word out of his mouth. He needed an exact location, he had to know where she was. He would not let her run away from the love he offered and the love he knew she shared.

  “Man, the world contains thousands of miles of possibility, and Poppy is about seven miles away.”

  Trevor’s heart thudded to a stop.

  “She’s just over by The Grove, on the edge of Hancock Park and West Hollywood. She’s at her sister Mimi’s place.”

  Trevor’s palms pressed against the cold counter. A roaring filled his ears. She was in Los Angeles, just as Cha
rla had said, and she was ten minutes away. “Address?”

  Robert slid a piece of paper from the folder and across the counter toward Trevor.

  “You want personals? Like past boyfriends, relationships?”

  “No.” Trevor said his voice very clear. “I don’t.”

  “She’s important, this girl?

  “The most important girl I’ve ever met.”

  “Okay. Well she’s got a clean background, not that you asked for that, but the computer, it coughs up everything.” Robert stood and tapped his hand against the counter. “You’ll let me know if you need anything else.”

  Trevor lifted the file and flipped it open. “I will. Thanks for this.”

  “No problem.” Robert paused and his eyes scanned the kitchen. He took a breath and hesitated before he spoke again.

  “Trev?”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’ve been with your family since right after you were born, and you’re like a younger brother to my little girl. I’ve been assigned to you for forever. Maybe even more than you know. In the shadows, even after they told you that you got cut loose.”

  A grin hitched up one corner of Trevor’s mouth. “Kind of figured as much.”

  “You’re a smart guy, so I kind of thought you did. I know that this girl is important to you. I can tell from … well … because … Mesquale has security and I’m security.”

  Trevor sighed. “I’m not surprised.”

  “Look, your mom never asks. The order is to just let her know if there’s a problem. She doesn’t get reports on your personal life or any of that, so give her a little credit. She has the money and the access to know what you do every friggin’ second of your life if she wanted, but she doesn’t do that. She just asks if you’re okay. Safe. I definitely didn’t tell her about the big wave surfing you were doing on your vacation.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “So I know, Trev, that this girl is important and she’s beautiful and she’s smart and she seems, you know like a good match, but there’s one thing.”

  Trevor’s heart tightened in his chest. Robert was a great guy. Guidance from him was usually right. Even as a teenager, Trevor had listened to Robert.

  “She runs. A lot.”

  Trevor nodded. “I know.”

  “She doesn’t want to feel trapped, and maybe it has to do with her mom ditching her family when she was only five or maybe it has to do with her dad having this borderline drinking problem and working all the friggin’ time, or maybe it’s just who she is. But Trev, man, you need to know, you need to be real clear, because man I’m older and here’s the thing”—Robert placed his hands on his hips—“I’ve met lots of people and while they can soften, man, they really don’t change.”

  Trevor tapped the edge of the folder on the counter. “I know that too.” He smiled at Robert. “Thanks man. Thank you for the information and thank you for the words. I get it.”

  “Okay then. You’re a grown man.” Robert clasped Trevor into a man hug. “When the hell did that happen?” He stepped back. “Shit, that means I’m old, because I was a young guy when I started watching you.”

  “Ha! You can still kick my ass any day of the week.”

  “Speaking of, gym, Friday. Krav Maga.”

  “Dude,” Trevor said and shook his head. “You’ll kill me. Seriously, I’ll die.”

  “Better you die on my watch than because some dumbass with a vendetta because his Up Side Burger was cold jacks you in the parking garage.”

  “Who was so obsessed with security?”

  “Funny enough, the way I heard it, your Grandma Estelle. Also heard she carried a peashooter in her purse her entire life.”

  “That I know is true,” Trevor said and followed Robert to the front door. “Got in trouble for playing with it when I was a kid. Was looking for mints and found Grandma’s gun.”

  “Bet Adele went ballistic.”

  “Yup.” Trevor opened the front door.

  “Seven a.m. Friday. Gym.”

  “Fine, fine.” Trevor nodded. “Got it. Just don’t get angry when I puke all over your shoes.”

  Robert laughed and walked down the front brick steps to his car parked on the circular drive. “Good luck, Trev,” he called and hopped into his car.

  Trevor closed the front door. He had his info. He knew where she was. Now he just had to convince Poppy to stop running from love.

  Chapter 8

  “You’ll be okay?” Mimi’s gaze roamed around the living room of the bungalow.

  The house was a complete wreck. Leftover breakfast dishes still decorated the dining room table and a waffle was still stuck to the highchair tray with maple syrup. Laura had been in a horrible mood all morning, hopping from one toy to the next and dragging out everything she owned from the toy bin in her room. Poppy had pried Hazel from Mimi so that Mimi could shower. The baby now grasped a fistful of Poppy’s shirt in one hand and a frozen washcloth in the other. This morning her gums had been bright red and swollen from her second tooth coming in.

  “I wouldn’t leave now,” Mimi grabbed her purse, “but the oncologist said she’d be there at exactly twelve-thirty, which probably means three o’clock in doctor time, but I don’t want to miss her. She’s impossible to get on the phone.”

  “Go,” Poppy said. Today she was tired and Hazel wouldn’t stop fussing from the teething. Drool oozed from Hazel’s mouth, her face was curled up into a horrible snarl. The only thing keeping her quiet right now was the frozen washcloth she was sucking on.

  Mimi reached out and brushed her fingertips across Hazel’s face. “My poor baby.” Mimi’s gaze bounced from Hazel to Poppy. “You’re sure?”

  “Completely.” Fatigue rolled through Poppy. From her bedroom Laura shrieked. Poppy fought a desire to lock herself in the bathroom with the lights turned off.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Mimi hitched her bag up over her shoulder. She kissed Hazel, who still gummed the washcloth with a determined enthusiasm. Mimi rushed out the door.

  Laura ran from her bedroom. “Mommy forgot to say good-bye!” She darted to the front window. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” She threw herself in front of the door.

  “I’m sorry, Mommy is already gone.”

  “No! No, no, no, no!” Laura yelled. Her feet kicked against the wooden floor. “I want Mommy! You give me Mommy!”

  Hazel, watching Laura with wide eyes, quietly sucked on her washcloth. The drool/water mix dripped down her chin and onto Poppy’s arm. She tilted her head to watch Laura, and as though she’d finally just understood what Laura had said, Hazel’s big, wide eyes went from Laura to Poppy. For an instant there was nothing … not a peep, not a sound, not a drop of drool, and then her mouth split wide and she let out a huge horrible cry.

  “You made Hazel cry!” Laura yelled and ran toward the window. “I’m going to tell Mommy. You made Hazel cry!”

  Giant tears rolled down Hazel’s cheeks and Poppy bounced her on her hip. “I did not make Hazel cry. You made Hazel cry because you’re yelling and acting like a spoiled brat.”

  Laura’s mouth opened, her jaw dropped, and her bottom lip started to quiver. A terrible half-cry, half-wail sound came from Laura’s lips.

  “No, no, no, maybe I can get Mommy!” Poppy slipped her cell phone from her jeans pocket and called, but the phone went directly to voicemail.

  “I want Mommy!” Laura yelled.

  “So do I.” Hazel squirmed in Poppy’s arms. A scream pierced the room. Poppy walked to the freezer and grabbed another washcloth. Numb those gums. Poppy applied the frozen cloth to the bumpy spot in Hazel’s mouth. The wailing stopped.

  Laura beat the couch with her doll, the doll’s hair flying about as she struck it against the cushions. “I want Mommy!”

  Poppy pressed her fingertips to her temple and closed her eyes. A thumping in the back of her skull increased as Laura beat the couch and yelled and Hazel cried in her arms. She’d gotten so little sleep last night. It was
nearly noon and she’d yet to shower. She swept the wisps of hair hanging over her eyes back toward her ponytail. Had she even showered yesterday? She absolutely could not remember, how was that possible? She’d brushed her teeth … she remembered that, but—

  The doorbell rang. Please let it be Mimi. Perhaps she’d seen the voicemail and circled back. But why would she ring the doorbell? Poppy grasped the handle and pulled open the door. Her eyes landed on … Oh my God, how could it possibly be—

  *

  “Poppy.” His heart thudded to a stop. A thrill pulsed through him. A want. There was no anger over her leaving him at Mesquale. He only wanted to find a way for her to feel safe enough to stay and love him.

  He’d found his beautiful Poppy with a baby in her arms. A very unhappy baby, with her face puckered up into an angry mess. Another child screamed in the background. He’d heard most of this through the door and wondered if he’d come to the wrong house.

  “Oh my God, what are you … how did you …”

  “Hi.”

  The baby opened her mouth and her blue eyes locked onto him. A tiny smile curved, showing her toothless gums. “Hi there, sweetie? Aren’t you the cutest?” he said. She reached out her tiny cherub hands toward him. Trevor’s eyes met Poppy’s. “Can I take her?”

  Poppy’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Her gaze darted from him to the baby. Was she more surprised that he was here or that her angry, red-faced, screaming infant niece was now smiling and about ready to giggle? Poppy nodded and released the bundle into his arms.

  “Hi, beautiful girl, I’m Trevor. What’s your name?” He bounced up and down, an automatic response to having a baby in his arms.

  “How do you …?” Poppy’s stared at him, astounded by his ability with the baby.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Hazel.”

  “Worked at a corporate nursery for a while. One of my first jobs. Catch on quick what makes them happy when they’re teething.” He slid his finger along her bottom gum. Her tiny mouth clamped down and he felt the tiniest spot that was a bit raised. The tooth hadn’t even poked through her gum yet. “There it is.” He pulled his finger from her mouth. “Feels like you’ve got another twenty-four hours of unhappy baby. The frozen washcloth helps though.” Hazel reached up and patted his face with her tiny hand. The shouting from the living room stopped and another child, adorable but with tears on her flushed cheeks, turned the corner. Her gaze landed on Trevor and she stopped. She grasped Poppy’s leg as though it were a life preserver on the ocean.