Travis's Appeal

And then, the next moment, the man’s frown vanished and he was jovial again, caught up in a memory.

“But you should’ve seen her as a little bit of a thing. Sunshine in a bottle, that was her. Or maybe I should’ve said sunshine with a bottle,” he chuckled at his own joke. “She was a baby back then. Once she started walking and talking, she made it clear right from the beginning that she marched to her own tune.” He cleared his throat, pushing away whatever thought was troubling him. He raised his eyes to Travis’s face. “Anyway, you hear of it?”

Saying yes might leave him open to questions that he couldn’t answer. At the risk of bruising the man’s ego, Travis said, “I’m afraid not.”

To his surprise, rather than look put out, Shawn smiled and nodded. “The truth. You could’ve lied, trying to get on my good side, but you didn’t. You told the truth. I like that.” He nodded his head several more times, as if carrying on a debate that only he could hear. And then his eyes lit up. “Okay, boy, I’m gonna go with you.” He eyed him closely. “I’m putting my trust in you. Don’t let me down.”

“Thank you,” Travis said with feeling. “I won’t let you down.” Still seated, he slid forward and extended his hand to the man. At the same time, he felt Shana withdraw her fingertips from his temples.

For a moment, he thought it was because he was leaning forward.

And then it hit him.

Raising his eyes to her face as she came around to rejoin her father on the sofa, Travis stared at her incredulously.

“It’s gone,” he said like a mesmerized child watching a magician who had just made a full-grown tiger disappear from the stage. “My headache’s gone.” He was stunned. Migraine headaches, when they came, which fortunately for him was not often, moved in for the duration of the day. Sometimes longer. “That’s not possible,” he murmured.

Shana smiled at him. “Is your head throbbing?” she asked innocently.

“No.”

The look of pure satisfaction that came to her face was spellbinding to watch. “Then it’s possible,” she concluded.

Shawn chuckled, clearly pleased with the outcome. “Didn’t I tell you she was something?”

She certainly was. And the fact that her fingertips seemed to work miracles had nothing to do with it.

Chapter 3

The first meeting ended with Travis giving Shawn O’Reilly a list of documents he needed to review in order to ultimately place them beneath the protective umbrella of a living trust. In exchange, Shawn tendered an invitation to Travis to drop by the restaurant for a “meal that you’ll never forget.”

Whether by instinct or because being in such close proximity to Shana had temporarily rendered his ordinarily sharp thought process null and void, Travis refrained from mentioning that one of his brothers was a chef and owner of the popular Kate’s Kitchen, a fivestar restaurant overlooking the ocean in Laguna Beach. Trevor had named the restaurant as a tribute to their stepmother because of all the encouragement she’d given him over the years.

Travis accepted the light-green business card that Shawn held out to him, tucking it into his wallet.

“What about our next appointment?” Shawn asked.

Travis flipped through several pages on his desk calendar, searching for an empty block of time. “How’s two weeks from tomorrow at ten sound?” he asked. Fully expecting the man to agree to the date, Travis picked up his pen and was about to write in Shawn’s name when the man stopped him.

“Don’t you have anything sooner?” Shawn prodded. “I’d like it sooner than later,” he added, then explained, “I’m really not a very patient man and when I make up my mind, I like to see things start moving. You understand how it is.”

It was a perfectly plausible explanation, one Travis felt confident was used by countless people every day. Impatience was a by-product of the present fastforward, fast-track world. Yet for some unknown reason, Travis couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Shawn was leaving something unsaid. That the man’s motivation for the request and his desire for speed was driven by something other than just impatience.

Travis didn’t push the subject.

But it did make him curious.

Travis worked his way backward through the calendar, starting with the slot two weeks in the future. Every space seemed to be taken. Business was good, he thought, but by the same token, it did make things difficult if he wanted to get O’Reilly in earlier.

He decided to give up his lunch. “How about two days from today, at noon?” he suggested. “Does that work better for you?”

“Don’t you ordinarily eat lunch around then?” Shana asked.

Travis dismissed the question. “I can send out for a sandwich later on,” he told her. “No problem.”

“Or, I can bring you something from the restaurant,” Shawn offered. “We’ll be here,” he said, confirming the appointment. “And in the meantime,” the man went on, “you come on by the restaurant tonight. Say, around eight? Unless you’ve got other plans.” His expression, though amiable, challenged him to come up with an acceptable excuse for not showing up at his restaurant this evening.

Travis did have other plans. Communing with his pillow and catching up on some well-earned sleep before he drifted into the land of the zombies. But he couldn’t very well turn down the enthusiastic invitation. For whatever reason, having him drop by to see the restaurant seemed to mean too much to his new client.

He wondered if Shana would be there.

“No,” Travis answered, “no other plans.”

Shawn immediately beamed in response even though, from his behavior, the outcome was a foregone conclusion to the man.

“Good, then we’ll see you there.” He nodded.

Hope bubbled up inside of him. Travis shifted his glance to include Shana before asking, “We?”

“Shana’s my right hand,” O’Reilly told him with a great deal of pride. “In more ways than one.” He groaned at the end of the second sentence as he attempted to get up from the sofa. Instantly, Shana tucked her arm through his, providing the leverage and support he needed to rise. “Couldn’t run that without her, either.” He took a deep breath, like someone who had just made it to the top of a mountain and then shook his head sadly. “Don’t get old if you can help it, boy. There’s little dignity to it.”

“Don’t talk nonsense, Dad. You’ve got enough dignity for two people. You’re just a little creaky right now, that’s all,” Shana comforted simply.

Her arm still threaded through her father’s, she gently guided Shawn to the door. Opening it, he stepped across the threshold and was out in the hall when Shana suddenly remembered that she’d left her purse on the sofa.

Reentering the room, she flashed a conspiratorial smile at Travis who was about to follow them out. She’d left her purse behind on purpose, wanting the opportunity to get the attorney alone for a moment.

“You don’t have to come if you have other plans,” she told him, lowering her voice. “Dad tends to overwhelm people a bit. It’s the Texas in him,” she added with a laugh.

Her laugh was like music, Travis thought. Spellbinding music. It took him more than a second to shake himself free.

“That’s all right,” he assured her. “I really don’t have any plans.” And even if he had, he wouldn’t have passed up this opportunity, not if she was going to be there.

“No more midnight-oil burning?” Shana asked innocently.

Her eyes were smiling. He liked that. They seemed to highlight her entire face—making it even more perfect.

“I try not to do that two nights in a row,” he told her as he reached for the still-cold coffee on his desk. “It makes me a little sluggish mentally in the morning.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get to bed early,” she promised.

He’d just raised the coffee cup to his lips and taken a sip. Hearing her comment caused the coffee to slide down the wrong way. He started coughing.

Instantly alert, Shana quickly crossed over to him and began to pound him on the back. Still coughing, Travis held up his hand, signaling that he was all right.

“Excuse me?” he finally got out, albeit rather hoarsely.

Shana replayed her last words, then grinned. If she realized how he’d interpreted the line, she gave no further indication.