by Judy Angelo
“A guy, huh?” Alvin put his hand to his chin and looked thoughtful. “A guy all alone in a big old house on the outskirts of town. And I should let my little girl go out there to help him clean up?”
“Dad, I’m thirty-two years old. Not exactly what anybody would call a little girl. And besides, he’s not like a biker kind of a guy. He’s actually quite mature.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “I’d guess…late thirties, maybe even forty.”
“Ah, haa,” Alvin said, drawing out the sound. “I see.” He gave her a look of amusement.
“Dad, it’s not like that,” she said, quickly defending her position. “It’s just…he seemed so distant. Almost…sad. Like he needed a friend, you know?”
“And, of course, in steps my little Samantha, always ready to befriend the friendless.” Alvin gave a sigh but it was lightened by his understanding smile.
“I just want to help, Dad.” She gave a shrug, picked up her toolkit and headed into the office. “I’m heading out to Mrs. Roach’s place. I’ll give you a call tonight, okay?”
Alvin called his goodbye to her and then she heard his truck roar to life. She’d ended the conversation a bit abruptly but she’d had to. She hadn’t been completely honest with her father and, much to her annoyance, she had one of those faces that could never hide a secret. If she hadn’t moved she would have been turning pink in a minute.
The truth was, there was more to her offer to help than she’d let on. The moment she’d laid eyes on her new customer she’d felt an attraction that had almost knocked the breath out of her. Oh, she’d done a great job hiding it behind her super cheerful act and competent ‘plumber girl’ exterior. But today, out there at that big old house, she’d felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time. A very long time.
After a hiatus of four difficult years she, Samantha Fox, had met a man who'd begun to kindle the dormant embers of her heart. And he wasn’t wearing a ring.
CHAPTER TWO
Sam was surprised when she got back from her appointment with Mrs. Roach to hear that Jake McKoy had called. He wasn’t going to need her help with the basement after all.
She frowned, the disappointment tart on her tongue, then she forced a smile and shrugged. “Well, that’s good news. Now I can spend my Saturday morning sleeping in late.”
Meg shook her head. “Not so fast, young miss. He said he doesn’t need your help with the cleaning because he’s got a crew coming over this evening but he did say he still needs you to stop by tomorrow. Same time, he said.”
“What for?”
“Something about your mentioning that you’re an interior decorator. Apparently he needs help in that department.”
“Oh.” Sam continued to stare at Meg for a few seconds then she blinked. “Okay,” she said quickly and walked over to her desk where she dropped her receipt book on top. “I guess I’ll go then.”
Meg chuckled. “And you can drop the act.”
“What act?” Sam slid her hand into her back pocket and stared at the older woman.
“That ‘oh, so casual’ act. I know you won’t mind going back there. From what I’ve heard from his voice he’s a really sexy man.”
Sam narrowed her gaze. “You could tell all that just from his voice?”
“That, plus what your Dad told me.”
Sam was frowning now. “What did he tell you?”
“That there was a man all alone out at the old Sullivan house and that you turned pink when you talked about him.” Meg laughed and shook her head. “It’s been a long time since you even gave a man the time of day. Not since Garrick, anyway. But it’s about time, child, about time…”
“It’s nothing like that, Meg. I don’t know why you and Dad are always intent on setting me up.” Sam knew when it was time to clear out of there and now was a good time. If she wasn’t careful Meg would trap her at the office for another half hour or more giving her the usual advice about not letting an eligible bachelor slip by, particularly in a slouchy town like Tonawanda. The best course of action? Disappear before Meg got going with her lecture.
“I’ll catch you on Monday, Meg. Got to run.” She grabbed the keys to her Dodge Ram pick-up truck and was out the door before Meg could get another word out.
As she climbed into the truck she grinned. She'd finally won a verbal battle with Meg – by fleeing. She’d taken the chicken’s way out and she was not going to apologize for it.
Sam loved Meg. She really did. The woman had been her stepmother for the past twelve years, marrying her father three years after their parents got divorced. She’d been the best thing that ever happened to Alvin Fox, bossing him around, breaking him out of the vices that had led to the disintegration of his first marriage.
Sam’s mother, Mary, was a gentle woman who would never cross her husband. Not so with Meg. Within months of meeting her Alvin had ditched the cigarettes and was no longer a regular at the nearby casino. Meg was a religious woman, and if Alvin wanted to be with her he had to walk the straight and narrow path. And he did, much to Sam’s relief. She would forever be grateful to Meg for having such a positive impact on her dad’s life.
But having Meg in her father’s life meant having her in Sam’s as well. And that came with a mother hen's fussing and flapping and clucking. For Sam, though, that was a small price to pay for having such a caring woman in their lives.
And besides, sometimes Meg gave very good advice. Sam smiled to herself. She should start listening to her stepmother. Some day.
******
At five minutes to ten on Saturday morning Sam pulled into Jake McKoy’s driveway. She hopped out of her truck, slammed the door shut and practically skipped up the steps to the front porch. For some inexplicable reason she was in high spirits today, something that hadn’t happened to her in a long time.
It must have been her good mood that made her ditch her usual work attire – jeans and denim shirt – for a pale blue peasant blouse and a white cotton skirt that floated just above her knees. She’d completed the look with sandals sporting long straps that wrapped around her ankles and up her leg. She looked casual and comfortable and definitely not rugged like the day before. And, just because she felt so relaxed and free today, she decided to forgo the band for her hair and instead let it flow freely over her shoulders and down her back.
As she reached up to ring the doorbell Sam couldn’t help smiling. Meg would be proud of her. Of course, she hadn’t come to the house with any plan to seduce the man. Not at all. She was here on business, after all. But there was no rule saying a girl couldn’t look appealing while doing her job.
As the doorbell chimed she smoothed her hair back, took a deep breath and waited. Within a few seconds she heard footsteps and as the door opened a smile automatically stole across her lips. “Good morning,” she said brightly then the words died on her tongue as she got a good look at his face. Gone was the somber but pleasant man of the day before. In his place was a man whose face could only be described as sour.
“Morning.” It was more a grunt than a greeting. He stepped aside and held the door wide open so she could pass.
Sam raised an eyebrow and went in but she didn’t say another word. He was certainly in a rotten mood today. He was the one who had invited her to come to see him but instead of a warm greeting all she’d got was a scowl. What was that all about?
She stopped and waited in the hallway as he closed the door then she followed him to a large room with a desk on top of which were piled books, files and a stack of papers. His office, apparently. When he waved her over to a chair she sat silent, waiting for him to make the next move. She knew enough about men to know when to hold her tongue. He obviously had something on his mind and now was not a good time to be ‘Little Miss Perky’.
Jake didn’t bother to sit. Instead, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and looked down at her. “Thanks for coming and for your offer to help me with the basement.” He shrugged. “I guess they told you there’s no need to worry
about that. I got some people to do it.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Meg told me.”
“I’d like to take advantage of your expertise in decorating. As you can see,” he gave her a reluctant smile, “I need help.”
For a moment Sam just stared back at him, not sure she wanted to answer with a smile. She’d been in a good mood coming in but he’d gone and changed all that with his grumpy greeting, and two could play that game.
“Just tell me what you need,” she said, her tone cool and her face expressionless.
“I’m…not sure.” He seemed lost, out of his depth. He looked around the room. “I guess we could start here. What would you suggest?”
He looked so bewildered that Sam could not remain aloof. It was just not in her nature. Relenting, she granted him a tiny smile. “Why don’t we start with a tour of the house?”
A look of relief passed over his face and it softened in a smile. “Thank you,” he said humbly. “I’ll lead the way.”
First Jake took her back to the living room which was almost bare except for a few old pieces that did nothing for the room. Its only saving grace was a beautiful fireplace adorned with an elaborately carved mantelpiece. That, she would save. Pretty much everything else would have to go.
The dining room had a long, soulless table that just sat there in the middle of the space with its six equally uninteresting chairs. When Sam raised an eyebrow Jake gave her a rueful smile and admitted that he’d inherited it with the house – among other things.
“I didn’t care what the house looked like,” he said, a slightly bitter tone creeping into his voice. “I just wanted to get away and this place was available, old furniture and all.”
Sam looked back at him, full of curiosity. He’d wanted to get away. From what, exactly? Where had he come from? She opened her mouth to ask then clamped it shut. He’d already started off glum. Now was not the time to try to dig into his past or his private life. Instead she said, “Well, I’m here to help so don’t worry. Let’s see the rest of the house.” She held up the tiny notepad she’d pulled from her pocket. “I’m taking notes as we go along.”
The tension in his face eased and he nodded then led the way upstairs to the bedroom. After that he headed back downstairs with Sam in tow.
“So,” she said, speaking to his back as he descended the stairs, “why did you decide to redecorate now?
He shrugged but kept on walking. “I guess this was just the right time.” At the bottom of the stairs he turned to help her down then said, “You already know what the basement looks like so I just have one more room to show you.”
They headed down the hallway toward a room Sam hadn’t even noticed. “I don’t come here often,” he said and his voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “Let’s just have a look.” He pushed the door open and switched on the light then beckoned for her to enter.
Sam stepped in and her eyes widened as she surveyed the space. Of all the rooms she’d seen so far this was the most beautiful. Spacious and airy with a high ceiling, it had the look and feel of a grand ballroom. Huge windows looked out onto a country garden where flowers, shrubs and stately trees cohabited in a harmony of nature.
And then her eyes focused on the one thing in that room that made her heart flutter – a shiny black baby grand piano. Even with its thin layer of dust it gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the window. Outside of the piano and its stool there was nothing else in the room which made that beautiful instrument stand out even more, impressive in its solitude.
Sam stepped forward then turned back to look at Jake who still stood in the shadow of the door. “Did you get this with the house?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No,” he said quietly, “I brought her with me.”
Sam nodded as she looked at him. He’d said ‘she’ and she knew what that meant. This piano was special to him.
She pulled her gaze from him and turned back toward the piano. Slowly, almost reverently, she approached it and when she got close she reached out to rest a hand on its smooth ebony surface. As a child she’d loved playing the piano. It was one of the few luxuries she’d had growing up – her own piano at home and private lessons from the age of four. At one point she'd dreamed of being a concert pianist but, as much as she loved music, it was not to be. She’d put in the hours of practice and she developed her skill to a high level but still there was something missing. That thing was inborn talent.
Of course, with her years of practice she could perform competently. But that was not enough.
On an impulse she turned to Jake who had approached and was watching her intently. “Play something for me,” she asked eagerly. “I’d love to hear music fill this room.”
To her dismay Jake’s face which had been serious before now turned dark with obvious anger. “No,” he said, his voice flat, his tone as cold as an arctic glacier. Then, as if that weren’t bad enough he marched over to the wide window to stare out into the yard, his back rigid, both hands shoved into his pockets.
What in the world? Sam stared at him in consternation. What had she done to deserve his cold rejection? All she’d done was ask him to play. A simple request, in her opinion. But for some strange reason that request had ignited the flame of fury in this unfathomable man.
She sucked in a breath then let it out slowly. “Do you want me to leave?” she asked, her voice quiet but clear in the stillness of the room.
“No.” His answer was quick and he turned suddenly, away from the window and toward her. And on his face was a look that she could not read. “No,” he said again, more gently this time. “Please stay.” He drew in a deep breath before he spoke again. “I will play something for you.”
Jake bit his bottom lip then walked toward the piano. Sam stepped back as he approached and he slid onto the bench and positioned his fingers on the ivory keys.
And then he began to play. His fingers moved tentatively at first, as if trying to remember a once familiar piece, and then he began to caress the keys, his fingers moving expertly and effortlessly as he played.
As the music filled the room Sam could only stand by, staring in awe as Jake played with a skill she could only dream of.
As she moved closer, standing just behind him, he played Mozart’s 'Night Music' then flowed into her favorite, Beethoven’s ‘Fur Elise’. She closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her, filling her with the delight of such sweet melodies. Then, as she basked in the glow of the music, Jake began to play some contemporary pieces then a love song so sweet and so true but so poignant that it brought tears to her eyes. ‘Always and Forever’ by Heatwave had been their song, hers and Garrick’s. They’d selected it for the wedding. And then he’d gone and played that song…when he got married to someone else.
It had been four years since that disaster, four years of pain, but she’d thought her heart was finally immune to any kind of hurt. But not so. Although she’d put Garrick’s betrayal behind her and although her love for him had grown cold she knew now that when it came to the healing of the heart, it was not that easy.
She sniffed, fighting to hold back the tears and the music stopped in that same breath.
Jake turned, a look of concern on his face. “Are you alright?”
Unable to speak, she bit her lip and nodded, praying he would just turn back to the piano and play. Oh God, please don’t let me cry. She would die of embarrassment if she broke down in front of Jake. But the more she pleaded, the more the tears welled up until they spilled over onto one cheek and then the other.
“What the devil?” Jake hopped up off the stool and in one stride he was standing in front of her. He pulled out a handkerchief and in a surprising show of gentleness, he reached out to dab at her damp cheeks.
Sam looked up at him in misty-eyed wonder. Was this the same man who’d been so cold just moments before? Trembling, she reached up to still his hand then she slipped the hanky from his fingers and dabbed at her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice
a mere whisper. “I…don’t know what came over me.”
“Come,” he said and put an arm on her shoulder. “Have a seat.”
He directed her to the piano bench where he sat down and pulled her down beside him. Then with a sigh he pulled her close until her head was resting on his shoulder. As they sat he stroked her arm, not saying a word, but somehow giving her a comfort that made words unnecessary. Somehow, he understood her pain. She could feel it. It was as if, like her, he was dealing with pain of his own.
After a moment Sam felt Jake move. He shifted on the stool and his arms tightened around her. She could feel it coming. He was going to kiss her.
And she welcomed it. She held her breath and closed her eyes in anticipation.
But nothing happened.
Confused, she peeped out and saw that Jake was frowning. He was staring straight ahead and the somber look was back.
Without warning he released her, got up and walked across the room. It was as if he wanted to put as much distance as possible between them. He cleared his throat then turned to face her. “Well, you’ve seen all the rooms so I guess that’s it. I expect you’ll start working on a preliminary budget.”
Sam felt her heart sink. He was dismissing her, just like that. Dazed, she stood up and clasped her hands in front of her. Then she nodded. “I…I’ll get back to you.” Then she added, “Thank you.” And she walked out of the room, leaving him standing there watching her in stony-faced silence.
Sam left Jake’s house that day confused and humiliated. And she wasn’t quite sure if she ever wanted to see him again.
******
Damn idiot. Jake slapped his palm against his forehead and turned back to the window. He’d watched Sam walk out of the room, knowing he’d upset her, and still he’d let her leave. But what else could he have done?
The darned woman had totally upset his plan. He’d cooked up this grand scheme to get her to come back to his house, inviting her this time as an interior decorator. Of course he needed the help but the truth was, that hadn’t been his primary reason for engaging her services. He’d just wanted an excuse to see her again. And again.
