Just Desserts by Jeannie Watt Page A

tell her mother that Robert had been sleeping with someone else? No. She and her mom simply didn’t discuss things like that. Not that her mother hadn’t tried.... Layla was simply too private.
     
    But Sam wasn’t. Their mom probably already knew.
     
    “What did she say?” Layla asked, curious as to whether she’d be happy Layla was breaking free, and if so, why she hadn’t gotten a congratulatory call. The time difference, perhaps?
     
    “I think she’s worried. You’re the anal, responsible child and shouldn’t be getting fired. That’s what the rest of us do. You’re the one kid Mom didn’t have to worry about.”
     
    What? “But she always seemed so frustrated that I didn’t celebrate freedom like the rest of you.” Layla distinctly remembered her mother urging her to ease up on herself, have a little fun.
     
    “She probably thought you were going to explode from self-imposed rules.” Sam pulled the duster out from under the counter and started attacking the jewelry display. “And now she thinks the explosion has occurred.”
     
    “It has.”
     
    Sam looked up, duster poised in the air. “For real?”
     
    “It feels like it.” Layla walked over to an oak table Sam had “borrowed” from their parents’ house while they were in Hawaii. It was now covered in bustiers, bras and panties. “Or rather, it feels like I’ve suddenly realized that there’s more than one path a person can follow, and I want to explore a little before settling onto a single pathway again.”
     
    “What exactly are you saying?” Sam asked, her eyes wide. “Could it be that you’re actually following my advice?”
     
    “Kind of.” Layla tidied a stack of panties. “I’m going to summer school in June and maybe back to college full-time next fall.” It had taken her a couple days and one sleepless night to come to that firm decision. Educational credits had soared in price since she’d last attended school, but she had a tidy sum in Grandma Bonnie’s legacy bank account, and Layla was certain she was the only one of the four Taylor grandchildren who hadn’t spent the lot. She’d saved it for a rainy day, and the rain was now officially falling.
     
    “Master’s degree in education?” Sam asked drily.
     
    So much for being unpredictable. Layla picked up a pale pink bustier from a display table and held it against her. “I don’t know.”
     
    “You don’t know?” Sam settled the hand with the duster on her cocked hip, an expression of patent disbelief on her face. “And by the way, that color suits you.”
     
    Layla dropped the bustier back onto the table. “All right,” she said irritably. “Yes, I’m thinking of a master’s in ed. If I can get into grad school.” Which shouldn’t be a problem, since she’d graduated university cum laude. “I sent my application in this morning.”
     
    “This is not a different path,” Sam pointed out.
     
    “I like kids. I think I should stay in teaching.” If she hadn’t screwed up her career too much by getting herself fired. She picked up the sliver of satin that matched the bustier and dangled it from one finger, trying to figure out what went where. A thong? Maybe. Not much to it.
     
    “Just remember there are other careers than the one you chose when you were five—even if you do like kids.” Sam dabbed the duster at the branches of a brass tree that held crystal bracelets. “After all, I like flowers, but that doesn’t mean I should spend my life arranging them.”
     
    “I will try to keep an open mind.”
     
    No. She would keep an open mind. But she also needed to make a living eventually, and continuing in education was her best bet. Perhaps she’d be adventurous in other areas of her life. Like, say, the man area? In the form of one Justin Tremont?
     
    As crazy as it was, Layla was beginning to think Justin was the best thing that had happened to her in a while. Because of his help retrieving what was rightfully hers, aka