One Way or Another: A Friends to Lovers Contemporary Romance (The Sisters Quartet Book 1)

by Mary J. Williams

  Without a word, Adam gave the door a firm rap. Whimsically, Calder expected a hidden window to open. Shadowed eyes. A whispered password. She had to admit she was a little disappointed when they were allowed to enter with little fanfare.

  A large man sporting a goatee shook Adam's hand. His honey-colored skin was set off by a stark white shirt and an equally bright smile.

  "Brother."

  "Good to see you, Hisham." The handshake became a hug. "You look well."

  "I am. As you would know if you came by more often."

  "My days and nights aren't always my own."

  "Business is good." A statement, not a question. Hisham's gaze moved to Calder. "Since you honored us with such a lovely lady to offset your ugly mug, all is forgiven."

  The affection between the two men was hard to miss. Calder sensed a story. Another tale she hoped Adam would share.

  "Calder Benedict. Meet Hisham Nader." Adam's introduction was simple. Then, as though he couldn't resist a dig at his friend, he added, "Don't believe a word he says. Hisham tends to exaggerate his charms."

  "Why would I exaggerate when the facts support how wonderful I am?" Hisham spread his arms with a look at me pose.

  Adam chuckled, shaking his head.

  "Show us to our table before Calder wises up and asks me to take her somewhere the owner isn't such a fool."

  Entertained by their banter, Calder took a moment to look around the restaurant. Square in design, she estimated the room contained close to thirty tables. Each filled to capacity. With so many people seated and enjoying lively conversations over amazing-looking food, she was surprised they didn't have to shout to be heard.

  "The acoustics in here are unbelievable." Calder took her seat, her speaking voice at a normal pitch.

  "Thanks to Adam, the walls are lined with the same stuff recording studios use." He raised Calder's hand to his lips. "Alas, I must leave you for now. But I will return. In the meantime, welcome to Journey's End. Enjoy your meal."

  Calder sent Adam an enquiring look. Every clue to his profession was more confusing than the last.

  "You soundproof rooms?"

  "Not personally."

  "I don't mind guessing games, Adam. If I have a chance to win." Calder sighed. "What is your profession?"

  "For want of a better word? I'm a facilitator."

  "Please tell me facilitator isn't a euphemism for pimp."

  Adam let out a noise somewhere between a snort and a wheezing cough. He picked up his glass of water, downing half the contents in one cleansing gulp.

  "Good God. The way your brain works."

  "Seemed like a fair question." Calder didn't try to hide her smile. "I'll take your reaction as a no."

  "Hell, no. And then some."

  They were interrupted by their waiter. The woman had a job to do. Calder set aside her chagrin—for the moment—and ordered a glass of chardonnay.

  "Beer for me, Layla. And an assortment of appetizers."

  "Right." Layla batted her eyelashes—a move Calder hadn't seen outside a bad romantic comedy. "I know what you like."

  "I've known her since we were kids," Adam explained.

  "I didn't ask."

  "You were curious."

  "I suppose," Calder admitted. "One less Adam Stone mystery to contemplate from an ever-growing list."

  "Mystery? Me?" Adam seemed genuinely perplexed. "I'm an open book."

  "To the rest of the world? Maybe. To me? Like pulling teeth."

  A spark of humor in his eyes, Adam waited while their drinks were delivered.

  "I know a lot of people." He took a sip of his beer. "Interesting people. With interesting abilities."

  Calder leaned perceptively closer.

  "And…?" she urged.

  "After I left the Navy, I—"

  "Navy?" Now that she had him going, Calder hated to interrupt Adam's flow. But she had to ask. "When? How long?"

  "Right out of high school. Five years. Hisham and I met during basic training. His dream was to take over his family's restaurant. After he saw the world."

  "How much of the world can you see from a ship?"

  "Not a lot," Adam conceded. "We had to wait for shore leave."

  "Where you met the young woman and her incredibly flexible leg?"

  Adam shrugged.

  "I'll tell you about her—"

  "Another time?"

  "Exactly."

  Calder had no one to blame but herself. Normally, she wanted to get from point A to point B in the shortest amount of time. Straight to the point. Not with Adam. She wanted to know everything. All at once. The journey had become jumbled. And a hell of a lot of fun.

  "Where were we?" Apparently, Adam was as turned around as she was. And, if his smile was any indication, just as entertained.

  "Hm." Calder paused, thinking. "Interesting people with interesting abilities."

  "Unlike Hisham, I couldn't see my future. The Navy seemed like as good a place to look as any." Adam gazed at his half-full glass of beer. "In retrospect, not so much."

  "Why?"

  "The military wasn't a good fit. Don't get me wrong. I learned some things. Grew up quite a bit. Met great people. And some flat-out assholes."

  When Calder laughed, Adam joined her.

  "No matter where you go, assholes are impossible to avoid," she said.

  The arrival of their appetizers came at a natural break in Adam's story. Calder filled her plate with stuffed mushrooms and reminded herself to leave room for the main course.

  As she washed down a delicious bite with a cool mouthful of wine, she gently encouraged Adam to continue.

  "You were what? Twenty-three when you left the Navy?"

  "Around there." He nodded. "Unfortunately, for all my world travels, I came home the same way I left. At loose ends. Until I ran into my old friend Hisham."

  Adam went on to explain. Hisham had taken over his family's restaurant. And ready to start some renovations. A fresh new look for a new generation. The biggest problem? For as long as he could remember customers complained about the noise. They couldn't talk to the person next to them without shouting.

  "I knew a soundproofing specialist."

  "One of your interesting friends with an interesting ability?"

  "You did listen." Adam clinked his glass against Calder's.

  "To every word."

  Adam didn't comment. However, the look he gave her sent a burst of heat through Calder's veins.

  "Hisham was so pleased with my recommendation, he wanted to pay me a finder's fee. I laughed off the idea. Just one friend helping another. I didn't give the incident a second thought. Until Hisham asked me to hook his cousin up with a reliable plumber. The cousin told his brother. The brother mentioned me to his wife. She told her book club."

  "And a facilitator was born."

  "Better than the living I make? I genuinely enjoy what I do."

  Adam's contentment showed in the relaxed set of his shoulders and easy smile.

  Delighted by his story and his company, Calder popped another mushroom into her mouth without thinking. Oh, well. If she couldn't finish her entrée, she'd take the leftovers home for the neighbor's cat.

  "You're a very handsome man." Calder saw no reason to keep her opinion to herself. The truth was right in front of her. She liked looking. A lot. Why not let Adam know?

  "Are you flirting with me again, Ms. Benedict?"

  "I never stopped, Mr. Stone."

  Candles flickered around them. A nice touch of romantic ambiance. Calder heartily approved. The muted light enveloped them like a cocoon. They could have been anywhere. At that moment as the conversation turned to talk about movies, music, television—the kinds of things people all over the world discussed on a first date—the other diners ceased to exist.

  The bill paid, they said good night to Hisham. They had too much to say, too many questions to ask and answer. Rather than a
stroll in companionable after-meal silence, they walked and talked through the restaurant. Across the street. To Adam's parked car.

  "Kris Kristofferson."

  "Really?"

  "He's a genius.

  "Your favorite songwriter is Kris Kristofferson?"

  "Help Me Make It Through the Night. Me and Bobby McGee. For the Good Times." Calder ticked off the song titles with ease. "Listen to Jody and the Kid. I dare you not to tear up. I do. Every time."

  "I'll download a copy. But I won't cry."

  "Too manly?" Calder teased.

  "Exactly."

  Adam didn't stop by the passenger door. He walked until they were on the sidewalk, safe from traffic. With skill—and her cooperation—he maneuvered her until her back was flush with the car. Adam rested his hands on the roof, effectively trapping Calder between his outstretched arms. Their bodies remained inches apart. Not even their clothing brushed. Yet, the heat of him enveloped her. The whisper of his breath close to her ear sent a shiver of need across her skin.

  Calder's fingers curled into a ball. Every instinct screamed to touch him. But if she started, she didn't know if she could stop.

  "When I was a teenager, I wanted to own something fast, expensive, and foreign." Adam's lips brushed the sensitive curve of Calder's neck. She gasped with pleasure. "I closed my eyes. Imagined a hot car and a hotter woman draped over the hood."

  Teenage fantasies were intense. And lasting. Calder had experienced a few of her own. The sidewalk was dimly lit. The foot traffic non-existent. If Adam wanted to fulfill a dream from his youth, she would gladly play her part.

  "What did she have on?"

  "Varied. Sometimes a tank top and pair of cutoffs. You know, with the frayed hem? Tight. Short. The kind that showed off her long, long legs."

  Adam's kisses remained light as he peeled away the fabric of her jacket to expose more skin. Grateful for the two tons of solid steel at her back, Calder felt her bones melt.

  "What did she wear the rest of the time?"

  Against her shoulder, Calder felt Adam's lips curve upward.

  "Nothing but a tan and a come and get me smile."

  The sound of voices—not Adam's—broke through the building sexual haze he'd expertly weaved around her.

  "Are they close?" Calder cared if someone saw them. Though not enough to lift her eyelids. She'd let Adam check the location of the unwanted intruders.

  "Close enough."

  Adam straightened. His sigh of regret echoed Calder's sentiments exactly.

  "Fun's over."

  "For now."

  Cautiously, Calder shifted from one foot to the other. Four-inch heels and wobbly legs were a recipe for disaster. When she was certain she wouldn't land on her face, she let Adam help her into the car.

  "We could go for a drink. Dancing. Or…" Adam let the car idle as he gazed at her through half-closed lids. "Did I mention my apartment is only a few blocks away?"

  Calder felt a wave of genuine disappointment. Many times, a man had asked her back to his place at the end of a date. The last time she said yes? No idea. Over the years, she'd used every excuse in the book to say no. And then some. Tonight, when she had a legitimate reason, all she wanted was to say yes. The irony wasn't lost on her.

  "If I didn't have an extra early plane to catch, I might ask you to show me your apartment."

  "Business trip?"

  Calder nodded. She watched as Adam linked his fingers with hers. She had quickly become a fan of his touch. Just the way his thumb caressed the back of her wrist was enough to make her long for a fogged-in airport.

  "When will you be back?"

  "Monday."

  Adam's gaze rose from their linked hands to meet hers.

  "Early enough for us to have dinner?"

  "Sounds like a plan. Except I'll pick you up." Calder knew the perfect place. One of her favorites she was certain Adam would enjoy. "Dinner will be my treat."

  "Okay. But I warn you. Just because you buy me a meal doesn't mean I'll put out."

  With a wink, Adam glanced at the street before he eased his foot down on the gas. Laughing, Calder buckled her seatbelt. Whether he put out or not—her money was on a big, enthusiastic yes—she knew one thing. Monday couldn't get here soon enough.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ~~~~

  OVER AN EARLY breakfast, Calder visited with Bryce and Andi. She appreciated the barely post-dawn company. Though getting up hadn't been a hardship for her sisters. Unlike Calder, both were early risers. Their presence gave her a chance to grouse to something other than an empty room.

  "Tell me again why I let you talk me into such an early flight? My first meeting isn't until afternoon."

  Andi yawned. As usual, her hair was combed, her robe perfectly pressed, her skin glowing. In other words, better than anybody who'd just rolled out of bed had the right to look.

  "The airlines don't care about your schedule. Check-in is always a nightmare. Your plane could be delayed. And what if you have to wait on the tarmac after your flight lands? Trust me, two hours early is always better than a minute late."

  Andi was big on schedules and didn't appreciate when hers was disrupted.

  "We need to revisit the idea of a private jet," Bryce declared as she set her breakfast on the counter.

  Because Mrs. Finch slept in on Mondays, the one morning of the week she allowed herself the luxury, they had to fend for themselves. Coffee only for Andi. A huge bowl of cereal, a homemade sourdough roll smothered in butter, a peeled banana, and a cup of hot cocoa for Bryce.

  Calder's appetite fell somewhere between her sisters. Since she'd missed last night's lasagna, she heated up a generous serving with the help of the microwave. Hardly traditional fare, the leftover casserole appealed to her right now. She doubted her stomach would complain about the unconventional hour.

  "Our own plane would mean constantly fighting Billie for flying time. She would look on the purchase as her own personal toy. Paris. London. Los Angeles. Sydney. She'd never be home."

  The second the words were out of her mouth, Calder realized the real advantage of a private jet.

  "I vote yes."

  Bryce laughed.

  "Or, we buy the plane and don't tell darling Mother."

  "Either way, we'd have to clear the purchase with Bertram Tresbaum."

  By the terms their grandfather's will, only the approved trustee had the power to release funds not already allocated to Thomas Benedict's female heirs. If they were men, they could have burned hundred-dollar bills, and nobody would have the power to stop them.

  Dear old granddad fanatically believed women needed constant supervision. In all aspects of their lives, but especially with anything that involved money.

  "Mr. Tresbaum is surprisingly liberal minded." Though they had all met the lawyer, Andi dealt with him the most. "He must have kept his opinions on women to himself whenever Grandfather was around."

  "Even if we get the money, we can't have a plane ready today," Bryce pointed out. "For now, Calder is stuck with commercial travel."

  Calder sighed. She wasn't a huge fan of flying. She'd considered taking the train to Chicago. But she wanted to get there and get back as quickly as possible. Train travel meant an investment of time she didn't have to give. A plane was her only option.

  "Tell us about your date with the hunky painter." Bryce peeled her banana, taking a bite. "Or is he a bouncer?"

  "Turns out Adam's job is much more intriguing."

  As she polished off her lasagna, Calder clued in Bryce and Andi the same way Adam explained to her.

  "You have to admire a man who carves out an occupation where none existed," Andi said.

  "One where he gets to be his own boss."

  Calder smiled at Bryce's comment. Her sister had worked for someone else. Once. When she was a teenager and wanted some real-world knowledge to add color to her writing. The experience didn't last long. Or end w
ell. For the sake of the workforce in general, she decided to gain whatever color she needed where she didn't have to take orders.

  "Aside from his interesting job, what about Adam Stone the man? Good name by the way." After years of searching high and low for character names—harder than the average reader could imagine—Bryce had developed an ear for the perfect combination of monikers. "Is he second date worthy?"

  "We've already made plans."

  "Really?" Andi and Bryce exchanged surprised looks. "You usually wait until you've had time to mull over the evening."

  Andi and Bryce did the same. They took their time. Evaluated if the man in question was worth a few more hours of their time. Life was short. Why waste another hour or two—hers and his—with someone they already knew was a dud? As for their baby sister? Destry didn't date. She had encounters—her words. Short. Sometimes sweet. But she would never qualify what she did as a date.

  "The entire evening with Adam felt like a long, slow seduction. And believe me, I was with him all the way. We teased. Flirted."

  Calder described what happened after dinner when she and Adam reached his car.

  "You canoodled." Andi sounded impressed. "Color me a trifle envious."

  "Me, too." Bryce nodded. "I can't remember the last time I had a good canoodle."

  Once more, her sisters proved why she always told them everything. They understood. And knew exactly the right things to say.

  "Adam walked me to the door."

  "Describe the kiss." Bryce reached for her ever-present notepad. "And don't leave out a single detail."

  "We didn't kiss."

  Calder had expected Adam to take her into his arms. Anticipated. Wanted. When he brought her hand to his cheek, his lips brushed her palm. The intensity in his deep-blue eyes took her breath away. She swayed toward him. He backed away.

  "Adam said he would see me Monday night."

  "And…?" Bryce gripped her pencil, though she hadn't written a word.

  "He left."

  Andi's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  "Power play?"

  Calder shook her head. She understood why Andi would ask. Sister looking out for sister.

  "All our lives we've witnessed certified masters at relationship machinations. Billie. Our fathers. We've seen almost every trick in the book. Adam's different."