A Million Little Things: An uplifting read about friends, family and second chances for summer 2018 from the #1 New York Times bestselling author

She stared at the choices in her closet. Since working at home, she hadn’t had to worry about what to wear. She mostly wore jeans or shorts with a T-shirt. She didn’t want to put on any of her sensible teaching clothes, which left her eyeing her date dresses.

“Not a date,” she whispered. “But still nice.”

She settled on a red short-sleeved dress with a flattering V-neck. The style was simple—a modified A-line that followed the curves of her body. The color was deep and good for her. She slipped it on, then raced into her bathroom.

She applied mascara, blush and lip gloss, then brushed out her hair. She had a natural wave to her dark hair. Most of the time she fought it, but right now she didn’t have time. She added a little volumizing spray, then went back into the bedroom where she put on hoop earrings and slipped into four-inch taupe heels.

She walked back into the living room and found Steven on the sofa with Mason. The cat was stretched out, kneading a pillow while Steven rubbed his face. Both males looked at her. Mason gave her that slow I-love-you blink while Steven quickly rose to his feet. His eyes widened slightly.

“You look great.”

“Thank you.”

“That was fast.”

“I didn’t do that much.”

He motioned to the door. She picked up her bag and led the way, carefully locking the door behind her.

“Olives okay?” he asked.

“Sounds perfect.”

Olives was a martini bar near the business district in town. While tourists sometimes wandered in, the place was mostly frequented by locals. Zoe hadn’t been in ages. Back in the day, she and Jen had often gone there for drinks and to talk.

Steven parked his Mercedes SUV and walked around to her side to open her door. The polite gesture surprised her until she reminded herself that not every guy was Chad, and wasn’t that nice to know.

Once inside, they found a small corner table. Their server came over. Zoe ordered a lemon drop while Steven chose a vodka martini.

“You didn’t say shaken, not stirred,” she said when their server left.

“Bond and I are different kinds of guys.” He leaned forward and smiled at her. “What are you up to these days? Last I heard, you were teaching at the same school as Jen, but you left.”

“I did. I’d been working part-time as a manual writer. They offered me a full-time position after a particularly difficult week of teaching, so I said yes.”

Which was all true, if not the complete truth. She’d also quit her teaching job on the foolish assumption that she and Chad were going to be married and starting a family. Working from home would have given her time to be a stepmom to his kids. But none of that had come to pass and she was living her post-Chad life now.

“What’s the best part about what you do?” he asked.

“Good question.” She thought for a second. “That I help people. Most consumers never read the instructions, but a few do and every now and then someone really needs to understand how to work an appliance or troubleshoot it. When they do, I’m going to help them.” She smiled. “Some of my work is for medical equipment manufactures. I’m guessing those people really do read the whole manual.”

He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “You do realize that no man is going to read the manual.”

She laughed. “I’m very aware of your gender’s many flaws.”

“Hey, that’s not a flaw. We’re born with intuitive knowledge.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

Their server returned with their drinks and the small plate of bruschetta they’d ordered.

“What’s the part you like least?” Steven asked.

“I’m by myself all the time. I didn’t realize how much I would miss people, but I do. I want to wander down the hall and talk to a coworker. When I was a teacher, I felt like all I did was talk to people, but now, there’s no one.” She sipped her drink. “Mason can be very charming, but he’s not much of a conversationalist.”

“I got that vibe from him. He’s the strong, silent type of cat.”

She smiled. “He’ll appreciate that you got that.”

“Any regrets on leaving teaching?”

She had plenty of regrets but they were mostly about Chad. “There are things I miss, but I’m not sure I want to go back. I like my job—I just wish it were different.” She looked at him. “What about you? Do you like what you do? You’re in the family business, so I’m not sure you could leave, but still.”

“I’d always known I was the heir apparent and I was okay with that. I just didn’t expect to have to take over so soon.”

Right. Because his dad had died. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. I miss Dad every day. He was a great guy. For a while I wasn’t sure I could do it—run the company like he did. Then I figured out I wasn’t supposed to. That I had to run it like me. Either we made it or we didn’t.”

“You made it.”

His dark gaze settled on her face. “You can’t know that.”

“I kind of can.” She held up one finger. “Jen would have mentioned if you were destroying the company.” A second finger went up. “You don’t strike me as the kind of man who would let himself fail. Not with something so important. It’s more than your family’s business. The company has what—a couple dozen employees? You certainly weren’t going to put all those people out of work.”

He looked both proud and a tiny bit uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, things are moving in the right direction.”

“Your dad would be proud of you.”

“That’s what my mom tells me.” His expression turned serious. “When he died, it was a shock for all of us. I wasn’t surprised by that, but I didn’t expect his passing to change me as much as it did. I guess I’d taken him for granted.”

“It’s a kid thing,” she pointed out. “We assume they’re always going to be there for us.”

He nodded. “When I was little, I was happy that my parents were so connected. They were a unit. There was no playing one against the other. As a teenager, I was embarrassed by how close they were. It wasn’t cool. But later, it was the best. How they loved each other. Jen, Brandon and I worried that Mom wouldn’t be able to go on, but she’s pulled it all together.”

“She has. Pam is amazing.”

“If I agree, you have to promise not to tell her.”

Zoe laughed. “Because she can’t have too much power?”

“You know it.”

“I will keep your secret, but you owe me.”

“Will fixing the stairs make us even?”

“It will.” She lightly touched his arm. “I really appreciate you helping out with that. I have to tell you, when I got locked in the attic, I totally freaked out.”

“Sure. Who wouldn’t?”

He was nice, she thought happily. Honorable. When his family had needed him, he’d stepped up—even though he’d been suffering himself.

“Handyman skills and you like cats,” she said, her voice teasing. “Why isn’t there a Mrs. Steven Eiland waiting for you somewhere?”

He sipped his drink. “Charming answer or real answer?”

“Real answer.”

“I was pretty popular in high school and college.”

“Ah. Why have one when you can have them all?”

“Pretty much. It got to the point where Mom wouldn’t let me bring a girl home. She didn’t want to start to like her only to have us break up in a week or two.”

“You lasted a week? That is so impressive.”

“You’re mocking me. Here I am, baring my soul, and you’re making fun of me.”

“I am.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Deal with it.”

He chuckled. “My folks kept bugging me to settle down. Or at least go out with someone for a month, but I never saw the point. Then my dad died and everything changed. At first I didn’t have time to date the way I had, but when things calmed down at work, I found I didn’t want to. I want what my parents had. The kind of love that lasts.”

He looked at his mostly untouched drink. “Sorry about that emotional dump. I want to blame the vodka, but I haven’t had enough. Either you’re really easy to talk to or I’m turning into a woman.”

“Do I get to pick?”

“Sure.”

“You’re not turning into a woman.”

“I’m glad,” he told her.

“Me, too.”

For a second they simply stared at each other. Zoe found herself wanting to scoot her chair closer to his. She certainly wanted to keep talking to him. He was nice, kind, funny and he had a heart. Oh, yeah, there was the really sexy thing, too. Talk about the perfect guy. Was it possible her luck had changed?

“I’m having a—”

“Would you like to—”

They spoke at the same time. “You go,” Steven said.

“I’m having a barbecue this Sunday. A few friends, nothing too formal. Want to come?”

“I would.” He smiled. “I was going to ask if you wanted to stretch drinks into dinner.”

She smiled back. “I would.”

They stared at each other. She felt the tension crackling between them—something she hadn’t experienced in what felt like forever.

“I should probably warn you that I also invited your mom to the barbecue, along with my dad.”

“Parents. Interesting. I can handle it if you can.”

“I’m up for the challenge.”

Chapter Five

Jen backed out of Jack’s bedroom and quietly closed the door. Later, just before she and Kirk went to bed, she would open it again, so she could hear him if he started crying. A backup plan, in case the baby monitor failed.

Instead of joining Kirk in the family room, she took a quick detour to their bedroom where she brushed her teeth, combed her hair and made sure the light makeup she’d applied earlier hadn’t gotten all smudgy under her eyes. She debated changing into something provocative, but wasn’t sure what to say if Kirk noticed.

Not that she didn’t want him to notice. That was the point of her carefully planned evening. She’d been unable to stop thinking about what her mother had said a few days ago—about Jen and Kirk having a healthy sex life.

The truth was they didn’t. Since Jack had been born, they rarely made love. She was usually so stressed she couldn’t summon the enthusiasm, and in the past few months, Kirk had stopped asking. That was the part that made her the most nervous. How much of it was his being busy with his new job and how much of it was Lucas talking about his twenty-two-year-olds? Not that she was going to ask. Instead she would deal with the problem.

She went into the family room and found Kirk already sitting on the sofa, watching a basketball game. Instead of sitting in her usual seat at the other end, she settled closer to him. He smiled at her.

“Jack asleep?”

“Uh-huh. I start the music box and he’s usually out in seconds.”

“Best baby gift ever?”

She laughed. “Certainly one of the top ten.”

He looked back at the game. The Lakers were up by six. Jen shifted so that her oversize shirt fell off one shoulder. She’d put on her sexiest bra, with the lacy strap. Hopefully the visual would—

“You okay?” Kirk asked. “You’re fidgeting. Does your back hurt?”

“No. I’m fine.”

She sighed silently. So much for her sexy move. She turned to him, prepared to snuggle closer, only he’d leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his gaze intent on the television.

“Come on, come on! Don’t blow it. Pass the ball. Pass it!”

Kirk had entered the game zone. She had a couple of choices. She could try to be less subtle, maybe kiss him or something, or she could simply accept it wasn’t going to happen tonight. The danger with the first choice was he could give her that absent smile that said he wasn’t the least bit interested. Not that she’d seen it very much, but the threat was always there.

In her head she knew that the best response would be to simply tell her husband what she was thinking. That she was very much in the mood. Considering how long it had been, he would probably turn the TV off so fast her head would spin.

But saying that didn’t guarantee the outcome and while her head was very clear on the mature, straightforward action, the rest of her was less sure. What if he wasn’t interested in her that way anymore? What if there was a twenty-two-year-old? What if...

“I’m going to go pay bills,” she said, rising from the sofa.

“Okay. Is there ice cream for later?”

“Uh-huh.”

She walked into the study and sat behind what had been her father’s desk. According to her mother, her parents had gone at it, right up until her father’s death. They’d been married over thirty years. How on earth had they managed to keep the spark alive that long?

She wasn’t sure if the problem with her and Kirk was circumstantial or something more. To be honest, she didn’t think she wanted to risk asking that question either.

* * *

Late Sunday morning, Zoe checked on the chicken marinating in her refrigerator. She’d decided to go simple with the menu for her barbecue. Grilled chicken, an assortment of salads, pinto beans cooked in a Crock-Pot—the recipe compliments of her mother—and desserts from Let’s Do Tea. The drinks were equally simple. Sun tea, beer and margaritas made with Saldivar tequila.

Her father’s family had emigrated from Mexico four generations ago. Over the years there had been plenty of non-Hispanic spouses until the Saldivar family was just like most in Southern California. A little bit of this, a lot of that, with a sprinkling of I-have-no-idea thrown in. But the family business—Saldivar tequila—kept them connected to Mexico.

The agave plants were grown in Mexico, but the company was headquartered in Southern California. The liquor was exported all over the world. She’d been at least twelve or fourteen before she’d realized that liquor didn’t just mean tequila.

Her father and his brother had been raised to be in the family business. Her uncle ran the company, her father acted as the spokesman until just a few years ago. While Zoe enjoyed a margarita as much as the next person, she’d had no desire to join the family firm. Her cousins were doing just fine without her.

A little before eleven, her father showed up.

“I came early to help,” he said as he hugged her, then passed over a bag of limes. Mariposa, his papillon, trotted in on his heels.

Miguel Saldivar was about six feet tall, with thick, graying hair and a trimmed beard. A lot of her friends had gone on and on about how handsome he was—which Zoe didn’t get. To her, he was just her dad.

She bent down and scooped up Mariposa. The small dog relaxed in her embrace and offered a doggy kiss.

“How’s my girl?” Zoe asked. “Are you keeping Dad in line?”

Mariposa wagged her tail.

“I have a friend with a little dog,” she said, thinking of Pam. “You two could have a playdate.”

“Mariposa doesn’t hang out with dogs,” her father said. “She’s a people person, not a dog person.”

Zoe thought about pointing out that Mariposa wasn’t a person at all, but why go there?

“You came alone?” she asked with raised eyebrows. “No beach bunnies trailing behind.”

“You’re disrespectful. Where did I go wrong?”

She traded him the dog for the limes and started for the kitchen. “Maybe it was the time you showed me the pictures of you at the Playboy mansion.”

“That was a hundred years ago.”

“I was twenty. Most of the girls there were my age. It was a little creepy.”

Her father winked. “You’re jealous.”

“Of the bunnies? No. They’re not my type.”

“There were handsome men there, I’m sure.”

“Not interested in a guy who wants them. A ridiculous standard, I know, but there we are.” She put the limes on the counter. “I was thinking of serving vodka tonics to everyone,” she said, knowing the statement would cause a quick change in topic.

As if on cue, her father crossed his arms over his chest and his gaze narrowed. “Zoe Elizabeth Saldivar, don’t ever joke about that.”

“Oh, Dad.” She crossed to him, raised herself on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “You have got to work on your sense of humor.”

“I have an excellent sense of humor. Where do you think you got yours?”

“From Mom.”

He grumbled something under his breath, then washed his hands. She got out a couple of small bowls. One would be for the lime juice. The other was for Mariposa. Heaven forbid his precious girl drink out of a cat bowl. Speaking of which...

Zoe left her father squeezing limes. She went into the living room and found Mariposa and Mason lying together in a patch of sun. The marmalade cat was about five pounds heavier than the papillon, and far more sturdy. Still, the two were friends. As Zoe watched, Mason tucked his head into the dog’s chest so Mariposa could wash his ears.

“You two are weird,” she announced before returning to the kitchen.

Miguel continued to squeeze limes. While he sliced, Zoe strained the liquid before pouring it into a large measuring cup. When her guests arrived, her father would make margaritas by the pitcher.

“How are things?” he asked.

“Good.”

“You seeing Chad?”

“I told you, we broke up.”

“You broke up before and took him back.”

“Not this time. We are totally done.”

“Good. I never liked him.”

Her father had liked him just fine, until she’d dumped him. Which, she thought with a smile, was the sign of a good dad. Now he would dislike Chad forever.

Miguel eyed her. “You’re happy without him?”

“I am, I swear.”

“If you start to get lonely, let me know. I’ll find you a nice guy.”

“I’m so going to pretend you didn’t just say that. I don’t need my father finding me dates.”

“Why not? I have great taste. I married your mother.”

“Yes, and then you left her. Stay out of my love life and I’ll stay out of yours.”

“It’s a deal. Now tell me who’s coming to this party of yours.”

* * *

Pam arrived at Zoe’s a little after one. The house was small but charming. This block had yet to see too much change, which she appreciated. Too many of the older streets in town had been turned into McMansions—huge houses on tiny lots. She preferred the older style of the original bungalows.

There were already several cars in the driveway, so she parked down the street and walked back to the house, passing Steven’s SUV. With luck, her plan was working. She looked forward to spying on the two of them. Surreptitiously, of course. Steven needed a woman in his life—but the right kind. From what Pam knew about Zoe, she was sweet and caring. Chad had been a disaster, but Zoe had recognized the problem and walked away before any harm was done.

Pam walked up to Zoe’s partially open front door. She knocked once and let herself in. Through the back windows, she could see people milling around Zoe’s pretty backyard. There was a covered patio, several large trees and an expanse of grass. She started for the sliding door at the back of the living room, only to be stopped by the rapid approach of a tiny barking dog.

Pam immediately set her plate of brownies on the coffee table before dropping to her knees and holding out her fingers to be sniffed.

“Look at you,” she said in a soft voice. “You’re a beautiful little girl, aren’t you?”

The dog had big brown eyes and huge ears. Her face was multicolored, with splashes of white, brown and black, while the rest of her was mostly white.

She sniffed Pam for a second, before giving her a quick kiss. Pam rubbed the side of the dog’s face a few times until she collapsed onto the carpet and exposed her belly.

“Ah, Mariposa, you’re supposed to make them work for it, my love. Not give it away for free.”

The words, spoken in a low, melodious male voice, had Pam looking up. Her gaze settled on a tall, broad-shouldered man with very handsome features.

“You must be my daughter’s friend Pamela. She told me about you. I’m Miguel Saldivar, Zoe’s father.”

Pam blinked. Wowza. The voice, the face, the voice—they were all so appealing.

Miguel held out his hand. It took Pam a second to realize he was helping her to her feet. What on earth? She was perfectly capable of... Oh, right. He was being polite because nice men did that sort of thing. John had. He’d always been so considerate and polite.

The unexpected reminder of her late husband caught her off guard. Pain and longing sliced through her until she found it hard to breathe. Her reaction was as sudden as it was powerful. Miguel immediately crouched beside her.

“Pamela? You are not well?”

She forced a smile. “I’m fine. Is this little girl yours? She’s beautiful.”

Miguel stared into her eyes for a second. She had a feeling he was debating whether or not to accept the change in topic.

“She is. Mariposa is very spoiled, as you’ve already seen.”

He held out his hand and she put her fingers on his palm. Together they stood.

He was taller than she’d first realized, with broad shoulders and a trim physique. She would guess he was only a few years older than herself. There was something about him, she thought absently. Almost a memory. As if they’d met previously.

Before she could ask about that, she heard a familiar laugh and turned to find little Jack running toward her. His arms were outstretched as he barreled into her. She caught him and pulled him up in the air.

“There you are,” she said happily. “I’ve been waiting to see you.”

Jen and Kirk followed. She greeted her daughter and son-in-law, then turned to find Miguel had gone into the backyard. Pam looked back at Jen and noticed the dark circles under her eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Pam asked.

Jen shrugged. “I’m okay. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Pam pressed her lips together to keep from saying something she would probably regret. While she appreciated that Jen was an attentive parent, her daughter was making herself sick with worry about things that were never going to happen. Or at least were unlikely to. She was in a constant state of alert about Kirk getting injured on the job. While being a police officer was certainly dangerous, Kirk was now a detective. He had experience and a partner. As for something being wrong with Jack...

Pam told herself not to go there. She didn’t want to fight with her daughter, but she couldn’t help worrying about her. Jen was making things harder than they had to be. Pam had a feeling that whatever Jen had shared, there was so much more she wasn’t saying. Jack’s first few years were supposed to be wonderful, not terrifying.

They all went out to the backyard. Zoe had set up tables in the shade. There was a play area for the kids and a drinks station.

Zoe came over to greet them. She tickled little Jack and thanked them all for coming.

“Have I met your father before?” Pam asked her. “He looks familiar.”

Zoe grinned. “He was the face of Saldivar tequila for years. You’ve seen him in magazine ads and on TV.”

“Of course. I should have remembered.”

Jen took Jack and set him on the ground. He ran toward two other children and Jen followed. Kirk went with her. Zoe leaned close to Pam.

“My father is very charming. He can’t help it. Just so you’re warned.”

“Don’t worry. I promise not to be swept off my feet by him.” She appreciated the information—not that she was interested or anything, but the man was very appealing. She linked arms with Zoe. “All right. Introduce me to your friends. I want to find out what the current slang words are. I’m sure mine are all outdated.”

The afternoon was sunny and warm. Pam enjoyed chatting with everyone. She took charge of Jack during dinner so Jen and Kirk could hang out together. Sometime after, she found herself sitting in a beach chair on the lawn next to Miguel.

He eyed her glass of iced tea. “You don’t like margaritas?” he asked. “I made them myself.”

“I like them just fine and I had one earlier. But I have to drive home.”

“A cautious woman. Interesting. Tell me, Pamela, what do you do?”

She thought about correcting him—she always went by Pam. But there was something about the way the more formal version rolled off his tongue. It was nice, she told herself. Fun.