Sparked by Love

by Peggy Bird

  To her surprise, they both left with no further argument, although she noticed them talking on the sidewalk in front of her house before they went separately to their cars. There were two anxious faces and four gesturing hands to go with what appeared to be a very intense conversation. She was too tired to wonder what they were talking about.

  • • •

  Leo couldn’t decide if he should call Shannon. As much as he wanted to know exactly what the hell was going on, he wasn’t prepared to hear her say she was going to Las Vegas with Jeremy.

  On one hand, he couldn’t believe the strong and resourceful woman he was halfway—maybe more than halfway—in love with would do something like spend the weekend with a guy just to please a father she hardly knew.

  On the other hand, he knew how much she wanted her father in her life. Knew how long she’d been trying to show him what a good daughter she was so he’d stay around for a change instead of leaving. Again.

  Finally, after wearing himself out pacing the floor while he worried the question to death, not to mention wearing Walter out because he was following his master, Leo grabbed his cell and punched her number.

  “Leo, I’m glad you called. I thought you were going to bring the signs over tonight. I was worried when you didn’t show.” She sounded like she always did. Even maybe a little happy to hear from him.

  He pushed back a little. “Worried? I would think you’d have too much on your plate to worry about me. And I’ve made other arrangements for the signs.”

  She didn’t respond at first. “Is something wrong?” she finally said.

  “What could be wrong?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”

  It was his turn to be silent while he considered how smart it would be to reveal he’d been standing on her porch eavesdropping.

  “Leo? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, fine. Great. Everything’s fucking awesome.” He decided to give her a chance to explain what was going on. “I just thought what with your plans for Las Vegas and the wedding, not to mention convincing your dad you’re finally the daughter he wanted, oh, and all the work connected with the Fourth, you’d be really busy for the next week. So I thought I’d make some other arrangements. Maybe set up a couple times when I know you’ll be there so I can arrange to have someone get the pieces for my installation. Get them out of your way so you don’t have to be involved.”

  “Las Vegas? The wedding? How did you know about that? Anyway, that’s nothing for you to worry about. I did what I needed to do. My dad is finally paying attention, I think. It’s all taken care of.” She paused for a moment. “There’s really nothing more to say about it, so can we change the subject and talk about your glass installation? I thought you were going to come pick up the glass yourself?”

  And there it was. The wedding was taken care of and he shouldn’t worry. It was all settled the way she wanted it to make her dad understand her. She was headed for Las Vegas with another man, the one her father approved of, so he was finally paying attention.

  “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. I’ll have Giles or one of the guys from Firehouse meet you at your house after work in a couple days. They can get the glass out of your house, and then you won’t have to be bothered with it anymore.”

  “Won’t have to be bothered? What do you mean? I thought…”

  He hung up before he heard the end of her sentence.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Aren’t you Little Mary Sunshine this morning?” Powell was standing in the doorway of Shannon’s cubicle holding a mug of coffee in each hand. “I came in here to have coffee with you and hear the latest chapter of the love affair of the century and find you with a scowl on your face that could stop the clock in the park. Or start it, since it isn’t working again.”

  “Go away, Powell. I have work to do.” Shannon didn’t look up from her computer.

  “Nope. I won’t go away. You obviously need me.” She put the two mugs on Shannon’s desk then swung Shannon’s chair around to face her. “What’s going on? Jeremy the joke-of-a-man still riding your ass, so to speak?”

  “I told him if he kept bothering me, I’d be going for a restraining order. I think he took it seriously.”

  “About damn time. So he’s gone. How about your carbon-based-life-form sperm donor?”

  “My father? I told him last night I’m through trying to bend over backwards to get him to be part of my life. It isn’t worth the effort. The last straw was when he insisted Jeremy accompany me to his wedding so I wouldn’t have to travel alone. He’s worried about my safety, he claims.”

  “Are you going to the wedding?”

  “Not now, I’m not. I feel a little guilty because they changed the date so I could attend but not guilty enough to jump through his hoops anymore.”

  “Bloody well right. After the shit your father has put you through, you shouldn’t feel guilty about anything, girlfriend.”

  “I don’t feel guilty about my … about Marty. It’s Louise. She seems like such a nice person. Better than he deserves, I’m convinced. Now.”

  “Write her a letter and apologize.” Powell flicked away Shannon’s concerns like lint, sat in the visitor’s chair, and took a sip of her coffee. “Okay, you gave Jerk-off Jeremy the boot, had a come-to-Jesus moment with Marty—you should be floating on air and grinning like a baboon.”

  “Yeah, well, after all the drama with Marty and Jeremy, I had a phone call that sucked.”

  “From whom?” She scanned Shannon’s face and seemed to see the answer there. “No, not from Studly-Do-Right?”

  “Sadly, yes. He was cool and distant, said I’d have too much to worry about, what with the wedding in Las Vegas and the Fourth, so he wouldn’t be bothering me anymore. I tried to tell him I had the Las Vegas thing under control, but he backed off even more. He’s sending friends to clear out the glass from my house.” She looked up at her friend and could feel the tears backed up in her eyes. “Do you think he was using me to get his damn art installation settled?”

  “Bullshit. I saw him with you. The man was in love with—is in love with—you. He took you to meet his family, for God’s sake.”

  “If he’s in love with me, he has a warped way of showing it. I don’t understand what all this backing away is about.”

  “I don’t know either, but I’m for damn sure going to find out.”

  “Powell, don’t you dare call him.”

  Powell finished her coffee and stood. “Okay, honey, if that’s what you want. I won’t call him. I promise.” Walking to the door, she threw back over her shoulder, “Men. Can’t live without them. Can’t kill them when they act like assholes.”

  • • •

  Leo had decided the only way to get through the next few days was to throw himself into his work. Handling hot glass required focus and concentration, which should keep his mind off Shannon and what he’d heard about her plans.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t working so well. After he’d screwed up two pieces he was trying to create with Giles’s help, he fled to Vancouver to his friends at Firehouse Glass. There he was confining his efforts to creating a few more fireworks pieces he wanted to have in reserve in case he needed them.

  He wasn’t doing much better in Vancouver. Not when Shannon’s presence only two blocks away at city hall was as alluring as a siren’s song. He was about to give up and go home when the back door to the hot shop was jerked open, letting in cooler air than he was comfortable with, given he was about to bring a piece out of the heat.

  Without looking, he yelled, “Hey, whoever opened the door, close it. I don’t want this piece to thermoshock.”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck what you want. I’m here to talk to you,” a woman’s voice said. “Put down the damn glass so I can.”

  It was Shannon’s friend Powell, and she sounded pissed as hell. She was dressed in business clothes but the expression on her face wasn’t the least bit b
usinesslike. Unless the business was the revenge of the Borg.

  “Powell? What’re you doing here?” Leo asked.

  “Want me to get her out of here?” his friend Frank asked.

  “No, I’ll talk to her. But first, shut the door, please, so I can get this piece out and into the annealing oven.”

  When that was accomplished, he motioned Powell out of the hot shop and into the front retail area. Only open by appointment, it was deserted.

  “Okay,” he said, stretching out the word, “what’s so important you had to interrupt my work?”

  “Take the glasses off so I can see your eyes,” she demanded.

  When he’d complied, she said, “So, I interrupted your goddam work, did I? The hell with your work. Because of your work, the almighty god Art, you thought it was perfectly all right to screw over one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, didn’t you? Anything to get your work in front of people. Anything to …”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You could have just taken her out to lunch, showed her around the parade grounds. You could have given her a diagram of what you were planning so she knew who to contact for the permissions. You didn’t have to fuck her. But, no, you had to go the extra mile, make yourself irresistible, use your charm to make sure … ”

  “You think I seduced Shannon to get my permits issued? What kind of asshat do you think I am?”

  “Good. At least you’re bright enough to figure out what I think of you. I don’t have to be more explicit.” She was shaking her finger at him as if he were an errant schoolboy and she the teacher who found him out. “You hurt her, and so help me God you are going to pay for it. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I will make sure—”

  “I hurt her? By what, falling for her before I found out she was about to run away for a weekend in Las Vegas with some jerk she doesn’t love so she can make her father happy? How am I the one who did the hurting? I’m not to blame for whatever hurt there is. She’s the one.”

  “Running away with some jerk? Pleasing her father? What are you talking about?” The schoolteacher now looked more confused than angry.

  Leo forked his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Okay, look, this isn’t the easiest thing to cop to, but I overheard a conversation she had last night with her father and Jeremy. I was bringing some stuff for the installation to her house, and they were so loud they didn’t hear me walk up the steps to the porch.”

  “So you eavesdropped.”

  “Yeah. Good thing I did, too. Otherwise I’d never have known about the plans to go to Las Vegas with Jeremy.” He tried hard to keep the hurt off his face. “Jeremy was crowing about how important the wedding was to him and how grateful he was to get a second chance. Her father was really happy about it, too. Talked about all the fun the four of them would be having now that he and Shannon were reconciled. About how great it’ll be to have Jeremy in the family. I guess she finally has what she wants—her father accepts her as long as she’s with Jeremy.”

  By now there was a smile—or a smirk—trying to tip up the corners of Powell’s mouth. “So, when you heard what Marty and Jeremy said, you, what, waited to hear what Shannon thought, so you could understand what was going on?” She waved her hand dismissively. “No, don’t tell me. Let me guess. You stomped down the steps and went home and sulked.”

  “I didn’t stomp and I didn’t sulk. I did go home. And I called Shannon later to give her a chance to explain herself. She sure as hell didn’t say much about it until I brought it up, and then all she said was she had Las Vegas under control.”

  “Ah, so you missed the part where she told Jeremy if he didn’t leave her alone, she was getting a restraining order. And the part where she told her dad she was through trying to please him because it wasn’t worth the effort.”

  “She … what? I don’t understand. I know what I heard. Jeremy was talking about a wedding and going with Shannon to Las Vegas.”

  Powell rolled her eyes. “Jesus, men are idiots. If you’re going to eavesdrop, for crissake, pay attention. Marty and Louise changed the date of their wedding so Shannon could be part of it. That’s what Marty was there to tell her. Then he fucked up big time by insisting that Jeremy accompany Shannon to Vegas. Shannon told him to take his wedding and shove it up his ass—only she was probably a lot nicer about it—and threw both of them out.”

  “You’re making this up.” She had to be. He knew what he’d heard. He couldn’t be mistaken. Or could he? What if he was wrong and Powell was right? A faint ray of optimism began to break through the black cloud he’d carried over his head all day.

  “Sunshine, what would be the point of making up a story when the truth is so much more interesting?”

  “I don’t know. After last night, nothing makes much sense, so why would your coming here be any different?”

  “Lucky for you I’m here to help. Now I can get this all straightened out with Shannon and—”

  “Don’t tell her anything. Please. I’m not hiding behind you. I got myself into this jam; I have to get myself out.” He was pacing the floor again. “Does she have a meeting or anything tonight?”

  “No, she’s off at the regular time.”

  “Then I’ll go see her and throw myself on her mercy.”

  “I’m not sure there’s much mercy to throw yourself on. She’s a little short of it right now. Particularly when it comes to men.”

  “Guess I can’t blame her. Me, her ex, her father. Lucky she has you.”

  “You bet your sweet ass she’s lucky to have me. And if you’re with her, you get me, too. Don’t you forget it.”

  “You’re not likely to let me, are you?”

  • • •

  For the rest of the afternoon, Leo hung around Firehouse Glass making more firework pieces he was sure he didn’t need to keep himself busy until the end of Shannon’s work day. Somehow, knowing he would have the chance to get it all worked out with her in a few hours was soothing. He was able to focus on the work. As a result, he produced some of the best pieces yet. He even created a new design, making curly pieces of bright yellow to mimic the effect in some fireworks of the center going off in crazy circles when the shell was exploded.

  By the time his buddies were ready to close up the hot shop, he was relaxed and eager to do his mea culpa and see how forgiving Shannon was. He didn’t have fresh clothes to swap for the old jeans and T-shirt he wore, but he cleaned up the best he could and went out into the late June night to drive the few short blocks to Shannon’s place.

  His bubble of happiness deflated as he approached her house. By the time he got to the parking lot in back, he had more questions than confidence. Suppose she wasn’t home? Suppose she saw who it was and wouldn’t open the door? Suppose she was so pissed off she wouldn’t let him explain? What then?

  When he walked from the parking lot to the front of her house, he could see the light in her living room she always turned on as soon as she got home. So, question one was answered. She was there. Now all he had to do was walk a few more paces along the sidewalk and up the steps to her porch and he’d know the answer to question two. The third answer, the really important one, would quickly follow.

  He knocked. No answer. Knocked again. Finally the door opened, and before she even spoke, he could see how stone cold angry Shannon was.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you were sending friends to pick up your work,” she said. The edge in her voice could have etched glass.

  Not exactly the warm welcome he’d gotten before, but then he deserved this he supposed. “I … ah … was but I decided I’d come myself, maybe talk to you, explain … ”

  “There’s really nothing you could explain I want to hear.” She opened the door fully and motioned him into the house. “You know where the glass is. Why don’t you go get it?”

  “Can’t I talk to you for a minute before I do? I have to explain … ”

  “I’m sick and bloody tired of men
trying to explain their behavior to me. You were clear enough last night on the phone about how pissed you are at me. Or how through with me you are. Whatever. I got the message. Now get your glass.” She stalked to the kitchen, which was hardly far enough to make a dramatic exit but left him standing at the door with no other option than to go retrieve his glass.

  He trudged up the steps to the second floor. The office where he’d stored his work was between her bedroom and the bathroom. From one room came the flowery scent that made him think of nuzzling her neck and hearing her make little noises of contentment. The other made him think about the nights he’d spent in her bed, loving her, her body so responsive to his, her mouth so hot, so wet.

  He shouldn’t go there, had to block the images flooding his mind so he could focus on the task at hand. Then, after he’d gotten it, he’d try again to apologize. After he’d thrown himself on her mercy, she’d forgive him and they’d both go out to the parade grounds and get the first fireworks installed. At least that’s what he wanted.

  After four trips, he had the pieces necessary for the first two installations and all the floodlights on Shannon’s porch. She’d stayed in her living room as he came and went, ostensibly reading a book, although he noticed she didn’t seem to be making much headway with it, which gave him some comfort. She wasn’t any more able to focus than he was. Maybe she still had feelings other than anger for him.

  When he was finished, he stood in front of her and waited for her to look up from the book he didn’t think she was reading. She didn’t, even when he coughed dramatically, so he plunged ahead. “You said you wanted to help with the installation. Are you still interested?”

  “Excuse me?” Her voice was about as cool as he’d ever heard a woman’s voice.

  “You said you might want to help. Last week. And I wondered … ”

  “Last week was last week and this is now. Why would I want to help you?”

  “Shannon, if you’ll listen to me, let me explain. Please.”

  “Explain what? What a fool I was to fall for what even your sister called your legendary charm? How I got used by a master? I don’t need to hear an explanation of that. I already know.”