Read Online Her Mother's Shadow by Diane Chamberlain - Free Book Online

the author wrote, “women are attracted to ‘bad boys,’ those men who are a challenge or who are in need of ‘fixing.’ The ‘good boys’ are uninteresting and unattractive to these women. But feelings follow behavior. If the man seems right, but the chemistry is lacking, stop focusing on that point. Instead, talk to yourself about his good qualities. I promise, if it was meant to be, loving feelings will follow.”
    This was perfect timing, Lacey thought. She had the man. The good boy. And he was even attractive. Feelings follow behavior. Standing up from the table, she reached for the phone on the wall. She would call to thank him for the roses.

CHAPTER 7
    E ven as he pulled into the parking lot in front of Lacey’s studio, Rick could see the roses through the broad front windows. She had brought them with her from the animal hospital. They meant something to her, and that could either be good or bad.
    He was not exactly sure how to proceed with Lacey. All he knew was that he needed to move carefully. It was unusual for a woman not to fawn all over him. He was undeniably handsome. He was an attorney. He drove a BMW. But it was clear that superficial trappings didn’t matter to Lacey, and that frankly intrigued him. She couldn’t handle too much of him at once, though. Of that he was certain.
    He turned off the ignition and picked up a book from the passenger seat, resting it on his lap. He wondered if stopping in to see her after sending her roses and after speaking to her on the phone only an hour before—and now bringing her yet another gift—would qualify as too much. He was willing to take the risk, though. The roses in the window gave him courage.
    He’d learned to time his visits to the studio when Tom Nestor wasn’t present. He’d actually been relieved to learn that Tom was Lacey’s biological father, because it explained the extreme interest the man seemed to take in her affairs. Still, he would just as soon visit with her alone.
    He walked into the studio, the book in his hand, and was surprised when Lacey stood up, walked over to him, and gave him a quick hug.
    â€œIt’s good to see you,” she said.
    â€œYou, too.”
    This was a rare welcome from Lacey. He must have turned a corner with her with those flowers. The vase rested on the table next to the kaleidoscopes, and the afternoon light shone through the fragile petals.
    â€œWhat a perfect spot for the roses,” he said. “They nearly look like they’re made of stained glass sitting there.”
    â€œThat’s exactly what I was thinking,” she said, taking her seat behind her worktable again. She was so pretty in her pale, freckled way. So delicate looking. He hoped he would not hurt her. “They’re inspiring me, actually,” she continued. “I think my next piece will be yellow roses.”
    He sat down on the chair adjacent to the table. “Glad I could tweak your artistic sense a bit,” he said, then added, “You act like you don’t receive flowers very often.”
    â€œI don’t think I ever have,” she admitted. “At least not from a man. Well, other than my father or Tom.”
    â€œHard to believe,” he said. “A woman like you deserves flowers.”
    She shrugged off the compliment, and he thought he might have taken things a bit too far with it.
    Two customers, a man and a woman, walked into the studio and began wandering among the glass and photographs. Rick lowered his voice to avoid being heard by them.
    â€œListen,” he said. “I wanted to tell you that I spoke with a friend of mine who’s more familiar with criminal law than I am. He had some suggestions for you on how to protest that guy’s parole.”
    She was suddenly all ears. “What did he say?”
    â€œYou’ll need to contact the members of the parole commission,” he said. “They’re the