Free Chain of Title by Robyn Roze, Peg Robinson, Patricia Schmitt (pickyme) Page A

with its
shades of gray, white, and aquamarine.  When they finally reached the
frosted-glass, double doors, Shayna turned to Sean and smiled softly up at
him.  “I’m really glad you stopped by this morning.  We’ll definitely have to
pick up where we left off.”
    She saw the curl of a grin at
one corner of Sean’s lips.  He reached out and gently brushed the side of her
cheek, his expression turning serious.
    “I’m afraid I couldn’t have
made a worse impression on your daughter.  I’m sorry about that, Shay.”  The
concern in his eyes was evident.
    Shayna sighed resignedly.  “The
circumstances wouldn’t have mattered.  Trust me.  You couldn’t make a
good impression with her, Sean.  Any man that’s not her father will always be suspect
and inferior.”  Shayna shrugged in defeat.  “It’s just the way it is.”
    Sean tilted her chin up
toward him and then lightly pressed his forehead to hers.  “Well, I’m sorry if
I embarrassed you in front of her, Shay.  I’m sure things won’t be pleasant
with her after I leave.”
    Shayna clasped his square jaw
in her hands and pulled him down for a kiss.  “I’m a grown woman, doing what
grown women do in their own homes.  I wasn’t embarrassed, just caught off guard. 
So, don’t let this ruin your day...it hasn’t mine.”  She winked and moved to
open the door.
    Before exiting, Sean leaned
down for a kiss and whispered against her lips, “Call me later.  I want to see
you.”
    She nodded, and watched as he
walked away and drove off.  Sighing loudly, Shayna turned and made her way back
to the patio, gliding smoothly past her visibly agitated offspring, and over to
the table where she began clearing breakfast dishes onto the serving trays.
    “Grab the other tray for me,
would you, Dani?” Shayna asked, unperturbed, as she walked past her daughter
and back into the house.  The flabbergasted look on Danielle’s face suggested
that she had been expecting an explanation and probably an apology from her
mother.  Not happening today, kiddo , Shayna thought to herself as she
entered her bright, sky-lit kitchen; she was done playing the bad guy.
    As she scraped the unfinished
food into the trash, the other tray slammed onto the countertop, rattling and
shaking the tableware on top of it.  Shayna straightened and turned, looking impassively
at her angry child.
    Danielle’s brow furrowed. 
“Really, Mother?  You’re going to act as if nothing’s wrong?”
    Danielle Chastain was a
beautiful young woman—beautiful in the way that youth tauntingly afforded; a
beauty fleeting and taken for granted until it was gone far too early.  Wasn’t
that when most people truly appreciated what had once been in their grasp?  Her
shiny, long ebony hair was the same color as her father’s, inherited along with
the gift of his sapphire blue eyes.  Danielle bore no resemblance to her
mother.  Sometimes Shayna looked at her daughter and wondered if any part of
her DNA had comingled with Frank’s to create this angry, self-entitled child in
front of her.
    “What exactly do you think is
wrong, Dani?”
    The raven-haired girl scoffed
and her hands cut through the air.  “Are you kidding me?  What daughter or son
wants to walk in on that !” she gestured pointedly toward the deck
outside.
    Shayna’s eyes narrowed and
she shook her head deliberately.  “There’s a time and place for everything,
Dani, and my home is the time and place for that .  You
don’t live here and you’re not a little girl that just stumbled across
something you don’t understand.  I remember having that talk with you a
long time ago.”  Shayna crossed her arms under her chest and waited.
    Danielle huffed, “I can’t
believe you, Mother.”
    Ah, yes, Mother .  A
recently minted, derogatory term that Danielle had taken to flinging the last
few months to let Shayna know that she had failed in her obligation to maintain
the bubble of her daughter’s idyllic