Family Treasures

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Epilogue

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

Chapter One

Another Monday.

And if the early morning traffic jam and the ten voice-mail messages waiting for her attention weren’t enough proof it was Monday, Caitlin McBride knew she could add the three grueling hours she’d just spent shopping with the daughter of one of her clients. What should have been a fairly easy search for the perfect “little black dress” had quickly turned into a battle of wills when the teenager revealed that she did like the color black—but only as the background for hundreds of tiny skulls.

Caitlin had won in the end—she always did—but at the moment she needed to rebound with a cup of strong coffee and the piece of dark chocolate tucked away in her desk drawer.

She didn’t break stride as she swept past her assistant’s desk. “Sabrina, I have an appointment with Dawn Gallagher at Twin City Trends this afternoon. Don’t forget to leave the entries for the makeover contest on my desk before you take your lunch break.”

“Um, Ms. McBride?”

Judging from the undercurrent of misery in Sabrina Buckley’s voice, the chocolate was going to have to wait.

Caitlin paused and pivoted slowly on one stiletto heel. “Yes?”

“I’m, ah, having a little…trouble with the elimination round.”

Caitlin sighed. Why leadership seminars continued to claim that “delegating responsibility” was a positive thing, she didn’t know.

“What kind of trouble?”

“Well, you told me to divide the entries into two piles.” Sabrina gestured to the overflowing bins on her desk. “One for women who already look like models and just want to be featured in a magazine. And one for average, everyday-looking women who could potentially bring new clients to IMAGEine after their makeover.”

“That’s right. Two piles.” The toe of Caitlin’s shoe tapped against the plush carpeting. “So what seems to be the problem?”

“This one.” Sabrina held out a photograph. “It doesn’t exactly fall into either…category.”

“Of course it does,” Caitlin said firmly, retracing her steps back to the reception desk. “Let me see….”

That.

The sentence ended in something that sounded suspiciously like a gurgle.

“It’s a…man.”

Her assistant grinned. “It certainly is.”

Caitlin ignored the sudden, irreverent sparkle in Sabrina’s eyes as she studied the photo and made a swift assessment of the subject’s rugged masculine features. Fathomless dark eyes. Arrogant jaw. A shaggy mane of hair the color of espresso.

Perfect cheekbones…

“He sent in an essay?”

“Not exactly him. No.” Sabrina squirmed briefly in her chair.

Caitlin exhaled and counted to five. Out loud. And then she tried again. “But he entered the contest?”

“Not exactly him. No.”

“Sabrina—” Caitlin’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ll show you.” Sabrina’s hand disappeared into the pile of papers and she unearthed an entry form, waving it in front of Caitlin like a white flag. “You have to read this. Then it will make sense.” The young woman nibbled on the tip of her ragged fingernail. “Maybe.”

“Fine.” Caitlin felt a tension headache sink its hooks into the base of her neck as she plucked the paperwork and the photo out of Sabrina’s hands. “Let me know when my next appointment arrives.”

“Yes, Ms. McBride.”

Caitlin retreated to her office, sat down at her desk and slipped off her shoes, careful to line them up just so, before glancing at the entry that had her assistant in a tailspin.

Not that she blamed her. In the five years since IMAGEine, Caitlin’s Minneapolis-based image consulting business, had teamed up with Twin City Trends for their annual makeover contest, this was the first time they’d received an entry from a man.

She deliberately turned the photograph over to escape the intensity of those deep-set, charcoal-gray eyes.

“Now, Mr….” Caitlin glanced at the name at the top of the entry form. “Walsh. What’s your story?”

She turned the application over to skim the “in one hundred words or less tell us why you need a makeover” portion of the entry form and was surprised to find it handwritten rather than typed. And even more surprised to see the neat penmanship dominated by carefully rounded letters; the lower case ones graced with decorative, curly tails.

Okay….

Caitlin lightly cleared her throat.

As she skimmed the essay, unexpected emotion grabbed hold of her heart. And squeezed. No wonder Sabrina hadn’t known what to do with this particular entry.

She didn’t know what to do with it, either.

And Caitlin always knew what to do about everything.

“Are you kidding me, Caitlin? You can’t disqualify this entry. It’s our winner!” Dawn Gallagher picked up the entry form and read the opening lines of the essay out loud.

“‘Dear Twin City Trends Makeover Team,

My name is Jennifer Walsh. I’m twelve years old, and I’m writing to you because my dad needs a makeover…’”

“This is pure gold. Gold that happens to have a high rate of exchange at the newsstand.”

“A person has to be eighteen or older to enter,” Caitlin reminded her, wishing she’d followed her first instinct and quietly discarded JenniferWalsh’s entry form instead of showing it to Dawn. Blame it on the fact that she’d been charmed by the sweet formality of the girl’s essay and thought Dawn might be, too. She’d had no idea the style editor would insist they’d found their winning entry.