by J. A. Coffey
“Good. Nice to see you taking care of things.” Ugh, Pops actually sounded pleased.
“Thanks.”
His father selected a Clementine from the fruit basket and started peeling the skin with excruciatingly slow gestures—almost as if he could peel Kane’s skin and see behind his white lie. “Plans for tomorrow? I was hoping we could review some of the show applications.”
“Actually, I haven’t finished going through all the applications yet. And I’ll be working at the community center.” Kane swallowed the last dregs of his guilt along with his coffee and set the mug in the dishwasher.
“You? At the community center?” His father frowned. “For how long?”
“Couple weeks, maybe. Volunteering to assist with some summer art classes. I do have that fancy degree, after all.”
His father’s frown deepened. “Volunteering? You couldn’t find a paying position?”
“Don’t be such a grump, Carson.” His mother sailed into the kitchen smelling like Chanel. “It’s nice to see Kane taking an active interest in the community.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’m helping out a friend.” Kane grabbed a bottle of iced tea. He hadn’t thought of it as a charitable gesture when he’d agreed to help Anna, but if that was what his parents assumed, that was fine by him.
“That’s nice, dear.” She turned to address her husband. “Isn’t that nice, Carson?”
“I suppose. Besides, it will give me something to talk about at tonight’s dinner with the junior executives.” Carson eyed him.
Oh, goodie. He could be a topic of conversation over dinner. There was the Maverick self-serving nature rearing its ugly head. His father had never understood his personal decisions, his motivations; he was blinded by his own expectations for him. And he expected so much from him. Things Kane couldn’t give. Things he didn’t want to give, like stuffing himself into a suit at a job where he didn’t respect himself. Things he’d promised himself when he quit the show that he’d never cave into again.
Here he was falling right back into the same pattern. Pops gave orders; Mom gave suggestions. All under the guise of trying to help. Just like the producers, but worse, because they were his parents. They should’ve known him better.
“Don’t worry, Pops. I’ve got things underway for the gallery.” His father made a harrumphing noise as Kane headed toward the back stairs.
And he did. In between replanting annuals and manicuring the back lawn, he spent the rest of the weekend in his room checking over details and sorting applications so he would have time to spend with Anna and her summer campers. It wasn’t a hardship; the guest wing of the house was nicer than most luxury hotels. He even spread the slides over his carved walnut desk—the kind that businessmen like his father bought to feel important. Well, both things Kane was working on were important. His chance to take The Mav into the new decade and his chance to impress Anna.
The hours he’d spent doubled over the art show applications only underscored the fact that he wanted her. Wanted her work, that is. She was so far ahead of the competition, he was surprised that neither he nor his father had ever come across her before.
Exactly what rock had Annabelle Thomas been hiding under?
Kane punched her name into an internet search, hoping he’d find some information about her. A bio, perhaps. A previous show. Maybe he’d find a photo of her with a past boyfriend or something.
“Kane, honey?” His mother’s knock on the door interrupted him. “I know you’re working but would you mind running to the store? We’re out of fingerling potatoes.”
He sighed. Since when were carbs back on the menu? Oh well, maybe checking into Anna wasn’t the best idea. Her past didn’t matter. Only her art—and her ability to fix his father’s Ferrari.
“Sure, Mom. No problem.”
He shut down his computer and headed to the farmer’s market closest to the outdoor hardware store where he could pick up a work apron. If he was going to play her sidekick at the community center, he needed better armor. Crafting with children could be messy business.
***
“You made it.” Anna seemed surprised.
“I said I would.” She just needed time to get to know him. He nudged the door of his truck closed with his hip and handed her a to-go coffee.
“Thanks.” She was wearing jean shorts so worn and faded around the seat they were nearly white. Her bright green camp T-shirt highlighted her eyes, and barely showed off her curves, yet made his mouth water.
They stared awkwardly at each other for a moment.
“You can set things up over there.” She edged away from him and started greeting the campers as they arrived.
He donned his newly-purchased work apron, loaded up the paint tubs with the proper colors, and filled the water jars. Anna returned to his side, her face a study of approval.
“Good job.” She’d come out of her skeptical shell, like a flower emerging at dawn. That was excellent, because he had every intention of breaking through her defenses. Something in him yearned to see the real Annabelle Thomas.
To start, she’d laid out the ground rules to the campers. In the time remaining, she’d herded them outside into the barren field next to the community center and shown some of the older girls how to tie-dye shirts using rubber bands, while Kane had taken some younger ones aside to splatter paint a la Jackson Pollock.
He liked how her project plans were all takes on famous artists—she did more than just fill time, she gave her students a true arts experience. Whatever she’d learned in the classes at The Art Institute seemed to more than equal his four-year degree.
They worked side-by-side for a few hours. Hours he spent with his admiration for her growing. At last, the clock and his stomach reminded him that it was almost time for lunch.
“I think that’s it for the morning session.” He plunked the last of the paintbrushes into a plastic jar of water.
“Yeah, it’s noon. Good thing, cuz I’m starving.” Anna brushed twigs and grass from her jean shorts. Her long, muscular legs had grass marks imprinted on the backs of her calves.
One of these days, he’d see her out of denim.
Maybe in a sleek black gown at the art show.
Maybe in nothing at all.
A guy could dream.
“We sure worked up an appetite.” Managing twenty children between the ages of five and nine hadn’t been easy. Though she could certainly handle them, he was glad he’d agreed to help her.
“I have to admit, you were better than I’d expected.” She moved toward the bucket of lunches stored in the shade of the overhang.
Her praise made him feel warm inside. “Thanks. I enjoyed this.”
“This had to be a far cry from working on your own TV show.”
“Not really.” The media made him out to be a spoiled prima donna, demanding more money and perks than the show could afford, but that wasn’t exactly the whole story. Hence his departure when he contract was up for renewal.
“Oh? So why did you quit?” Her brow arched over those indescribably beautiful eyes.
“My contract was up. I chose not to sign.” He kicked at a clump of grass. “Not exactly quitting.”
“That’s not what the papers said.”
“They don’t always report the truth. Look at the recent political articles.”
“I see.” Her cheeks flushed. “Well, this suits you.”
“What does?” he asked.
“Being here. Outside.” With me. The unspoken ending practically hung in the air between them. Kane swallowed hard.
“Hey, Anna, do y—” His phone buzzed. Kane smiled apologetically and checked it.
Just Nate texting in wanting to know if he was down for partying later. Kane glanced at Anna observing the campers cavorting in the scrubby grass and tapped in nah, pass.
He stuffed his phone in his pocket and joined her in watching a group of kids playing tag near the picnic table. They were racing around like crazy, letting off s
ome steam before an afternoon indoors. “I could get used to this.”
“You’re a big kid.” Anna snorted, a cute sound that tickled his ears. “The kids are having a blast with you.”
And there wasn’t a hint of anyone poking fun or acting like he was useless eye candy. Being here felt good. Being with Anna felt even better.
“How about you?” he asked.
She avoiding looking at him. One corner of her mouth curved as she surveyed the outdoor classroom space they’d set up for today’s project. Parts of the concrete looked like it had been tie-dyed where they’d been a bit exuberant with their splatters.
“Hopefully the community center staff won’t mind a little paint on the pavement.” She brushed her palms together and sighed.
“Tempera is water-soluble. Any residue will wash away in the next rain. The paintings will dry while we have lunch.” He stacked small plastic cups with tempera paint inside a large white tub and carried it to the back entrance to the center to be washed and reused.
“You’re good at this, Kane. Really good.” She hefted the bucket of lunch bags. “Maybe you should consider this for your next career move.”
“Nah, not without the right inspiration.” He gave her a meaningful look. “I don’t see this as a long-term career.” But her…yeah, she was someone he could definitely get used to being around 24-7.
“Can’t stand not being a household name, eh?” Her comment struck him between the eyes, like someone bounced a rock off his skull.
“If that was the case, I wouldn’t be here.”
“You’re right.” She blushed. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“I…uh…” She glanced around, shrugging off both of their discomfort. “I’ll round up the troops.”
“Okay.” He spied his plastic grocery bag lunch on the top of the pile. He’d forgotten until this morning that they would be stuck at the center all day. Mom was on another weird dietary kick, so all that his parents had stocked in the fridge were sushi, mustard, and a block of cave-aged Gruyere cheese.
“Lunch!” She stuck her fingers in her mouth and trucker-whistled. Kids clustered around the tub of lunch boxes and brown bags, finding spots on the outdoor picnic table.
“Wow,” Kane muttered. “I never could do that.”
“Guess you aren’t always so able, after all,” she teased.
“I am where it counts.” He didn’t mean it to sound like a come-on, but Anna quickly looked away and the tip of her tongue wet her lips as if she was prepping for a comeback. She stayed resolutely mute instead.
They waited until everyone was settled on the grass and happily eating or trading from the contents of their bagged lunches. Then he and Anna broke out their lunch bags and headed to the small picnic table between the field and the parking lot where they could keep a watchful eye on the kids.
His lunch bag was pretty scanty. A small orange, a bag of chips and a bottle of iced tea, junk he could get from the gas station that would keep without an ice pack or a cooler.
“Nice weather today,” Anna commented as she pulled a sandwich from her own lunch sack. “Bout time. I miss seeing the sun for days at a time.”
The unmistakable whiff of peanut butter hit his nostrils and his stomach growled, like some Pavlovian kiddie response to the heavenly tan paste smashed between two layers of white bread.
“Yeah, that’s the one thing I miss from living in California. Lots of clear days to work outside,” he replied.
She scooted her backside onto the bench and her shoulder brushed against his. She smelled like strawberry preserves and sunshine. He stifled the urge to slide his arm around her shoulders, contenting himself with the feel of her hip rubbing against his outer thigh.
“Is that how you ended up on Home TV?” She eyed his last-minute lunch of chips and bottled iced tea, then broke off half her sandwich and handed it to him. “Peanut butter and jelly? I swear being around kids like this makes me crave it.”
“Sounds great. Thanks.” He liked that she didn’t have finicky diet restrictions. Anna was just…herself. The sticky peanut butter gooshed out from between slices of white fluffy bread. Kane took a bite. Damn, she even made great sandwiches.
She flicked crumbs off her fingers. “What’s your story?”
He chewed and swallowed before answering. “After college, I started working for a few landscape designers. The work sent me further and further down the coast until we landed some pretty big projects near L.A. I got an apartment, threw a mattress on the bedroom floor, and dedicated the rest of my time to learning everything about landscaping that I could.”
“You slept on the floor?” she choked. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s the truth.” He leaned back. “Believe it or not.”
“Starting at the bottom.” Anna tore off another bite of peanut butter crust. She was clearly surprised, and why shouldn’t she be, given his family name and reputation. “Cool.”
“Well, not too many people in Cali have heard of the Maverick family.”
She nodded. “You worked your way up. I like that.”
The look she gave him made his heart skip a beat. “I loved working alongside the crews doing the heavy labor.” He finished his sandwich half and tore open a bag of chips, offering them to her. “They respected me and we created some pretty amazing projects for the community.”
She shook a few chips from his bag into her palm. “Sounds like it was nothing like around here. This place is kinda dumpy.” They scanned the yard littered with a few rocks and an old concrete sidewalk.
“Yeah.” He reflected on the area for a moment. “It has decent bones. Just needs a better aesthetic to draw people in.”
Anna was right. The yard around the Seattle community center was tidy but unremarkable. Just a cleared lot, really. A standard builder’s grade patch of grass and gravel in the Seattle landscape. The community center was mostly run by volunteers, but it could really use some hardscaping and varied plants to liven the place up. Maybe if the center looked more appealing, it would draw extra support from the community members with cash to spare.
“Making plans for excavation?” Anna joked as she crumpled her lunch trash into her bag for disposal. Her long fingers fiddled with the creases.
“How did you know?” he asked.
“You got the same look on your face when you spoke about California.” Her indescribable hazel eyes peeped at him from under her long lashes. In the afternoon sun, her dark hair had hints of red where it caught the light. His breath caught in his throat.
What was with him? He never shared stuff like this—not even with his college buddies. “Far cry from strutting my stuff on Kane Is Able, I guess.”
Anna took a bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully as she kept her eyes trained on the summer campers. “However did you manage to get your own show? I’ll bet there were lots of guys clamoring for a big break like that.”
“Maybe.” He tossed his chip bag into his own brown sack and took a swig of bottled tea before answering. “I was the junior landscaper on a home decorating show for the network. I guess they liked the way I looked on camera. One of the execs got an idea for a landscape series, and they tapped me to tape a few pilot episodes.”
“You must have made quite an impression.”
“Yeah.” Or his chiseled abs had. “I was a lot more enthusiastic about my career back then. Thought I could be the next great landscape designer. Someone like Antoni Gaudí. Making the world a more beautiful place for everyone to enjoy.” The Catalan architect had been a true visionary, combining plant and sculptural elements in a new organic style that hadn’t been rivalled since. “He wasn’t afraid to surprise.”
“I wish I could’ve seen you in action.” She stopped and blushed furiously. “I mean, with the landscaping, not…other stuff.” She crammed a huge bite of PB&J in her mouth as if she could swallow her words.
Kane laughed. “I guess you’ll get your fill of me now.” He rea
ched over and brushed a few crumbs of bread from the corner of her lips. Her skin was soft and warm. His hand froze.
“Oh, I don’t know about getting my fill.” She looked away.
They sat there for a moment, until the oohs and giggles from some of the campers broke the tension.
“Miss Anna, do you like Mr. Kane?” Jasmine Anderson skipped over to ask.
Anna glanced at him, then back to her young charge. “Sure, Jasmine. What’s not to like?”
“What about you? Do you like Miss Anna?” Jasmine demanded.
“Oh, yeah.” Kane held Anna’s gaze while he answered. “Yeah, I do.”
Anna ducked her head and laughed and Kane’s heart rocketed behind his ribcage, as Jasmine giggled and ran off to play.
They finished up their lunches and moved on to supervising recess. He caught her watching him a few times, with a look that made him wonder what she was thinking. “You’re mulling something over, Anna.”
She laughed and blushed. “Just wondering how you transitioned from the Home Television guy to curating the summer show at The Mav.”
Oh, the show.
He shrugged, playing for cool. “Mom begged a little. Okay…a lot. And I needed a place to get away and think. My parents have a big empty house, so it just seemed natural that I not renew my lease and head up here for a bit. The day I met you was the day he tasked me with overseeing the summer show.”
“Convenient.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew my father. We…don’t get along well.”
“Bet he was pissed about the car.” She blew a strand of hair out of her face.
“I didn’t tell him yet.”
“Why not?” Her brow furrowed.
“He didn’t really approve of my making a career out of yard work.” His mouth twisted. Kane didn’t dare tell her how many times he’d been compared to the hired staff who tended the Maverick mansion. A comparison he didn’t mind because he’d seen the long hours the staff put in to make the estate beautiful. “He’s just started to put his faith in me again. I want to handle the car repairs on my own, and tell him once it’s fixed.”
