In the park, the way he spoke, how he kept an eye on Sammy while talking to me was unexpected. His quiet words and the flash of anger when he asked about Sammy’s father surprised me.
I still couldn’t believe I had told him about Chris. Only a few people knew my history. I was a very private person, especially at the office, yet with Van, I opened up. He made me feel as if it was okay to tell him.
He was a good man, but what I had said was true. We could be friends and nothing more. He seemed fine with it, and it was for the best. I could work with him, admire his talent from the dark corner of a bar, and stay focused on what was important.
Giving Sammy a stable home and keeping her happy.
Still, my heart ached a little as I stood and dumped my cold coffee in the sink. I ignored the little voice in my head that asked what would make me happy.
In the grand scheme of things, I didn’t really matter. Only she did.
Liv
“Fine,” I said into the phone, frustrated. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Make it fast. I need a decision,” Ben Campbell snapped and hung up.
I dropped my head into my hands, overwhelmed. I felt the stirrings of panic begin, but I had to shake them off. I ran through my list of options in my head, and as much as I hated to do it, I knew I had no choice. I stood, grabbed my purse and laptop, and hurried out of my office, strategizing as I rushed down the hall. I was so deep in thought I never saw the person headed toward me until I ran straight into him.
A hard, thick torso that belonged to Van Morrison stopped me in my tracks. I gasped an apology as I slammed into him, my purse and laptop clutched to my chest. His arms snaked around me, keeping me from falling.
“Whoa, Liv. Where’s the fire?”
I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. His deep brown stare was amused and curious. He frowned as he took in my expression, his voice changing, becoming concerned.
“Hey, what’s the matter?”
The urge to drop my purse and laptop and fling my arms around his neck was so strong it shocked me. To seek his comfort and feel the sense of safety he invoked when close. With a sigh, I shook my head.
“I’m sorry, Van. I didn’t see you.”
He chuckled. “That in itself is telling, Liv. I’m sort of hard to miss.”
I had to chuckle at his words. He was correct.
“I need to go get Sammy then head to the Miller place. There’s a huge issue, and the foreman is insisting I go in person before they proceed.”
He furrowed his brow, confused. “And Sammy is going with you because…?”
I stepped back, realizing I was still in his arms. I felt the loss of his warmth right away, my panic beginning to seep in again.
“My mom is unwell again. She has chronic migraines and is in the middle of a bad run. She called me a while ago to let me know she couldn’t get Sammy from day care. I was going to head there and get her, when the foreman called, demanding my presence.” I passed a weary hand over my face. “I have to get Sammy, and I have to get to the house.”
“Hold up,” Van said, reaching into his pocket. “Campbell is the foreman, right?”
“Yes.”
“Stay here.”
He disappeared into his office. I shifted on my feet, looking at my watch. With traffic, I was going to be late getting Sammy. The day care by my place was good, but she was a stickler for pickup times. Then I had to get across town to the house and sort out the problem. I would also need to stop and get Sammy something to eat.
Ben Campbell was a crusty, demanding foreman, and he wasn’t going to be happy about being delayed. Sammy wasn’t going to be happy about being dragged around, and I wasn’t happy about the constant migraines my mom kept getting. I needed to convince her to go back to her doctor. It had been getting worse lately, and her meds no longer helped.
I slung my purse over my shoulder and began to hurry down the hall. Whatever Van was up to would have to wait.
“Hey!” Van’s voice bellowed.
I turned, shaking my head, still walking. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”
His long legs covered the distance between us easily. He wrapped his hand around my arm, stopping me. “You’re going the wrong way, Liv.”
“I need to get a cab. The main road is out front.”
“My truck is out back.”
“I’m sorry?”
He stopped, gently ceasing my steps.
“I called Campbell and told him to chill. I’ll drive you to get Sammy, drop you at the house, then I can take her home and look after her while you deal with him.”
I gaped at him.
“No, you can’t.”
“Yes, actually, I can.” He tugged me with him down the hall toward the back of the building.
“I-I can’t ask you to do that, Van.”
He flashed me a grin. A wide, wicked grin that told me he wasn’t going to listen to any of my arguments.
“You didn’t. I offered.”
“But—”
He stopped. “Do you trust me with Mouse?”
There was no hesitation. I had seen the way he acted with her on Saturday. I knew his responsible nature from the length of time I had worked with him. I trusted him completely.
“Yes.”
“Then let me do this. You can give me all the instructions on the way. If you need references, you can call my buddy AJ, and he’ll tell you how often I take his son, Jesse, for the night. I’m good with kids, Liv. Sammy will be fine, and you can take care of whatever you need to.”
Shocked at his plan, I let him guide me to the truck. He opened the door, and before I could move, lifted me into the cab again, and handed me the seat belt.
“I was going to give you my truck, but given your, ah, height restriction, I decided this was the best option.”
Without thinking, I cupped his cheek. “Thank you.”
He smiled, warmth and kindness spilling from his eyes. He turned his face, pressing a kiss to my palm.
“Sure, Liv. Anytime.”
I watched him hurry to the driver’s side.
Somehow, I knew he meant those words.
“That puts us three days behind schedule.”
I looked at Ben Campbell, trying to be patient. “I realize. There isn’t anything else I can do. These cupboards are the wrong style and color. They screwed up the order and are express shipping the correct one.” I dug deep, trying to find my patience. “Surely, we can work on something else and come back to the cupboards in three days?”
He grunted, flipping through his file. “The tiles arrived for the master bath. I guess I can switch around some guys to work there and start the framing for the laundry room downstairs. But I need those cabinets ASAP.”
“They assured me they would be on the truck and here by ten a.m.”
“And the fixtures?”
“Will arrive tomorrow.”
He huffed a sigh. “Fine.” He snapped the file closed. “I guess it’s all we can do.” He crossed his arms. “You can talk to Mrs. Miller. I’ve dealt with her enough today.”
This was a rare job for us. Usually, BAM bought a place, Van and his crew did the demo and rebuild, I decorated it, and it was sold. This time, a client was involved in the flip and had her own ideas of what she wanted. It was proving to be difficult on many levels. She was demanding and exact. Bentley had assured me he would never allow this to happen again, but in the meantime, we had to finish the project.
“I’ll call her right away.”
His tense expression loosened. “Sorry, Liv. I was out of line earlier. She was here when the cupboards and fixtures showed up and went off on us big-time. She ranted for a good fifteen minutes. Nothing I said worked, and I lost my cool.”
“I know,” I soothed. “She is very difficult at times. I’ll talk to her, and we’ll get back on track.”
He huffed a sigh. “Okay. I’ll go and rearrange the guys.”
He left and I pulled o
ut my phone, dialing Mrs. Miller. Once I spoke with her, I could go home and relieve Van of his babysitting duties.
I was shocked by his offer—not only that he made it, but the fact that he seemed excited at the thought of spending some time with Sammy. I had tried dating a few times since she was born but found, to my disappointment, the men I went out with either stopped calling once they knew I had a child or were content to say hi then whisk me away, not at all interested in Sammy. After one particularly disastrous experience, I decided that part of my life was over until Sammy had grown. She was my priority.
Van was different. That much was obvious, yet I was still nervous about what could happen between us. If anything.
After a conversation of soothing and promising, I requested an Uber. Mrs. Miller had been surprisingly understanding, assuring me she knew how hard we were working and “glitches happen.”
“I’m so glad I have you and Mr. Campbell to deal with the details,” she gushed. “You’re both so amazing!”
I had pulled my phone away from my ear, convinced I was being punked. Her next words made the picture a little clearer.
“Your boss, Mr. Morrison, also called. He told me of the lengths you are going to in order to make sure I got exactly what I wanted. He told me you and Campbell are his best and I was in great hands. He even gave me his number in case I needed it in an emergency. I love the personal attention.”
I was going to have to speak to Van. Although I appreciated his kind words, he didn’t have to smooth over angry clients for me. That was my job, not his, even if this was an odd situation for us to deal with.
I dealt with some emails and messages on the car ride home. When I arrived, I hurried up the stairs, knowing I had to get dinner for Sammy, follow up with the cabinet people, and finish the design I had been working on. I also wanted to go over and check on my mom, to make sure she was all right. I sighed, already weary. It was going to be a long night.
I opened the apartment door, two things hitting me. Something smelled wonderful, making my stomach growl. The second was the sound of laughter coming from the back of the apartment where Sammy’s room was located.
I set down my bag and wandered down the hall, pausing in the doorway. I had figured Van would bring Sammy home, give her some cheese and crackers, and let her play. Maybe put in a movie. I had told him where everything was located.
I didn’t expect this.
They were sitting in her room, her in a small chair, holding up her teapot, asking if Van wanted more tea. Between them, her tea set was arranged on the table, many of her stuffed animals gathered around it. As usual, she was dressed up while having a tea party. A hat, gloves, and one of her princess dresses.
Van sat on the floor, his legs crossed, a few animals on his lap. A blue boa was draped around his neck, and a tiara sat askew on his head, the plastic gems glittering in the light. He held out his cup, his pinkie extended, no doubt having been schooled in proper tea party etiquette by Sammy, murmuring his thanks for more “tea.”
Sammy filled his cup with water and held out the plate of Oreos. I frowned. I never bought Oreos.
“More cookies, Prince Van? I made them myself.”
Prince Van?
He lifted his chin royally and accepted a cookie. “They are delicious. You must give me the recipe. I’ll have my cook at the castle make them.”
Never had I wished for a camera more than I did at that moment. Unable to contain myself, I giggled. They both turned to the door, excited to see me home. Sammy clapped her hands, demanding I join them.
I expected embarrassment from Van, but he simply tossed his boa around his neck and indicated the floor beside him with a wide grin.
“Liv, you’re home. Join us for tea? Sammy has made the most divine cookies.”
How could I resist?
Van
Liv had a lot of responsibilities, and as I was discovering, she carried a huge load on her shoulders all of the time. She was always friendly and polite, but her real smiles were rare. The ones which lit up her eyes and curled her lips into a perfect bow. I had determined on Saturday I loved Liv’s real smile. I especially loved being the one to make her smile.
Seeing her reaction to the accessories Sammy insisted I had to wear made it all worthwhile. Liv’s golden eyes were lit with amusement, her expression filled with levity. The giggles that escaped her mouth were endearing. She glowed.
She was so beautiful.
“I like the tiara,” she deadpanned. “And the boa suits you.”
“It’s blue because he’s a boy, Mommy. Van said he couldn’t wear a fancy hat because he isn’t a girl, so I let him borrow my tiara and he says that made him a prince.”
“I see.” Liv cut her gaze in my direction. “Funny, I don’t remember having Oreos in the cupboard.”
I grinned unabashedly. “You didn’t. We got them at the store.”
“We made supper, Mommy!”
Liv looked surprised. “You did?”
“Mr. Van and me made it together! It’s his special thing!”
Liv looked confused. “Special thing?”
I chuckled. “My specialty. A little mouse told me your favorite comfort food was mac and cheese. It happens to be one of my signature casseroles.”
Liv’s eyes grew wide. “You-you didn’t have to do that,” she sputtered. “You’ve done so much—”
I cut off her protests with a wave of my hand. “Nonsense. I was hungry and so was Mouse, so we made dinner. We ate and I have yours ready to heat up.”
Her expression morphed into something soft. Grateful. Sweet. Her eyes shimmered like liquid gold, and she blinked, dropping her gaze.
Was she crying over macaroni?
She laid her hand on my arm, her voice quiet. “Thank you, Van. Having dinner, my favorite dinner, made for me is a treat. What you did for me today—I can’t even begin to say thank you.”
I looked at her hand resting against my bicep. Small and delicate, her fingers clutched at the material of my shirt as if she needed something to hold on to. I had to refrain from telling her she could hold on to me anytime she wanted. Instead, I covered her hand with mine and squeezed her fingers.
“Anytime, Liv. Mouse and I had a great time together.” I winked at her. “And I was good. I made her eat dinner, including carrot sticks, before we had tea and cookies.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Well then, you did well. She never eats carrot sticks for me.”
“Mr. Van’s taste better, Mom.”
“Oh?”
“I think it’s the ranch dressing we dipped them in,” I confessed. I unfurled my legs and stood, holding out my hand in invitation. “Why don’t you come, eat your dinner, and tell us about what happened. Mouse has lots to tell you about her day.”
She accepted my hand, letting me help her up from the floor. “I want to check in on my mom.”
“Oh, ah, well, she called about twenty minutes ago. Mouse spoke to her, then I did. Her head was feeling a little better, but she was going to bed. I gave her the name of the pain clinic I go to. There’s a guy there who does wonders with migraines. I told her she should go see him.”
“She’s been trying to get into one, but so many aren’t accepting patients.”
“I know. I know Phil really well, and I sent him a text telling him to expect her call. He promised to see her as a personal favor.”
Liv stared up at me, silent.
“Was that okay?”
Her voice was thick when she spoke. “More than okay.”
“So how about dinner?”
Mouse jumped up. “I’ll go push the button on the microwave!”
I looked at Liv. “Coming?”
She launched herself at me, catching me by surprise. Her hug was hard, her arms tight around my neck. I embraced her, holding her snug, enjoying having her close.
“Thank you,” she breathed out. Her lips pressed on my cheek, once, twice. “Thank you.”
She hurried
away, rushing down the hall. I could hear the emotion in her voice, and I knew she was crying. I wanted to go after her and hold her some more, but I knew I needed to take things slow. Instead, I headed to the kitchen to help Mouse heat up Liv’s dinner.
“This is delicious,” Liv mumbled around a mouthful. “I can’t believe you cook. Is there anything you can’t do?”
I chuckled while trying not to stare. When Liv had reappeared, her hair was loose and hung down her back in a long, silken wave. It was gorgeous and I wanted to touch it. I had to stop myself from doing so by staying busy and getting her a drink. “I cook simple. My mom taught me casseroles, and I do a mean barbeque. I can’t create meals the way she does.”
Liv kept eating, obviously hungry. I had put extra effort into dinner since I knew she liked Sammy to eat healthy. I added carrot and celery sticks, sliced cucumber, and red pepper pieces to the plate. Sammy had gobbled them up, especially after I told her she only got Oreos if she ate everything, vegetables included, on her plate. Liv laughed when I told her the same thing.
But they both polished off their dinner.
It felt good knowing I had helped Liv. The look of exhaustion and panic on her face when she bumped into me in the hall made the need to do something, anything, for her, paramount. Her hesitancy had been easy to override, and I knew she was at her limit today. Mouse had been thrilled to find out we were spending some time together. Shopping with her was fun, although I quickly realized she played the cute factor often. I only allowed her to add two items to the cart.
Oreos for the tea party she was desperately wanting, and a KitKat bar we shared in the truck.
Once she was strapped in, I broke off a wafer and handed it to her. “You were very good in the store, Mouse. But this treat is just between us, okay? Don’t tell Mommy. I’m not sure she’d approve of cookies and a chocolate bar.”
Van: Vested Interest #5 Page 4
