Heart to Heart

by Meline Nadeau

  The door banged open again. A beautiful cover-model redhead in stiletto heels covered the stage in wide strides. Standing near the footlights, she swept her dainty arm through the air.

  “That’s right, leave. You obviously don’t have the ability to handle real talent anyway.” Sniffing, she looked down at Daniel and pouted, batting her lovely eyelashes.

  “Give me a break,” Carly muttered as she leaned against the arch. The young woman’s spine stiffened, but she didn’t turn around.

  “What did you say?” she demanded.

  Carly bounded across the distance between them and stuck out her hand. “You must be one of the actresses. Hi, I’m Carly.”

  The beauty didn’t spare her a glance. “Hi, I’m leaving,” she retorted as she picked her way down the steps and past Daniel.

  “Let this be a lesson to you in the future, Mr. Producer,” she snarled over her shoulder, “No decent actress has to put up with some low-budget designer telling them they’re too fat for costumes.” She shoved open the double doors of the theater and disappeared into the sunlight.

  Carly pressed her lips together to keep from laughing and looked at Daniel. Shock froze his handsome, angular face. He sat in silence until a car started up in the distance, screeching its tires and spinning gravel.

  Slowly Daniel put a hand over his eyes and grunted. “Sophie’s gonna kill me. She told me to wait for Ross before introducing everybody. Why don’t I listen to her?” He moved his fingers apart and peered up at Carly. “Are all theater people this volatile?”

  Laughing, Carly sat next to him in a dusty seat. “Not the ones who keep getting work … unless they are talented beyond belief. Was she that good?”

  Daniel sighed. “She looked that good. And I know that would have sold tickets. Man, I’m a pig.”

  He gazed at Carly with puppy dog eyes. A few years ago, she would have fallen all over herself to convince him otherwise, but now that she was older and hopefully wiser, she held back her sympathy.

  “Even pigs deserve second chances,” she declared, patting his shoulder. “You’ll find another actress. Don’t worry about it.” Rising and dusting off the seat of her shorts, she was suddenly exhausted. “Look, I don’t want to leave you here in your hour of need, but I really have to change my hideous clothes, take a shower, and unpack.”

  Daniel stood and put an arm around her. “Carly? Did I tell you yet that I am so happy I hired you?” He grinned and gestured around the theater. Carly laughed, despite her tiredness.

  “Daniel, again. You don’t have to worry. From what I have seen of Ruby Spring today, wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”

  • • •

  Later that evening, clean, rested, and refreshed, Carly dragged a pink sundress out of her suitcase and slipped it on. Standing in front of the large oval mirror in her guest room under the eaves, high on the third floor of the Ruby Spring Hotel, she tried on a hesitant smile. Her shoulder-length light brown hair lay in soft, damp waves against her sun-pink cheeks. Large gray eyes, although tired, sparkled in her heart-shaped face. Her cheekbones actually looked elegant in the dusky light peeking through the recessed windows.

  Satisfied that she didn’t look like she’d been gnawed half to death by raccoons, Carly pushed her suitcase over on the four-poster bed and smoothed the old quilt. Grabbing a plain white pair of sneakers, she slipped them on her feet and made her way down the curving staircase of the hotel to the lobby. The air had cooled considerably outside, and she shivered, wishing for a sweater as she passed the front desk to head for the kitchen. Rummaging in the refrigerator, she heard the door swing open.

  “Ross, I’m not raiding your food for much longer. Tomorrow I’ll go into town and get some groceries,” she said, pulling out an orange and a tub of chicken salad. A large, tanned hand came around her shoulder and reached for a beer.

  “You could raid mine anytime you want to, good lookin’.”

  Carly’s heart dropped to her stomach. Wheeler! But what was he doing here? Their date wasn’t until tomorrow night. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of leather and woodsy cologne. She closed her eyes for a second, reveling in the pure maleness of him.

  “I thought you were going to call me, Wheeler,” she said in a quiet voice.

  Placing a gentle hand on his hard chest, she pushed him back and sat down at the table, smoothing her sundress. He pulled out the chair next to her and turned it around, straddling it. Sipping his beer, he flashed her one of his sure-to-charm grins.

  “Couldn’t wait on that, Carly. I had to see you,” he stated.

  She gripped the orange in her hands and looked across the table to the coffeemaker on the counter. The clock on it read 9:30. It wasn’t really all that late. Tipping her head, she looked into his blue eyes. They left her weak, just as they had that afternoon.

  He reached over and covered her hands and the orange with one of his large, smooth palms. “This doesn’t look much like a very good dinner to me, miss,” he joked. Carly threw her head back and laughed. A strap of her dress slipped from her shoulder.

  “I wasn’t aware that you were keeping such close tabs on my eating habits, but whatever floats your boat, I guess,” she replied with a grin.

  Wheeler’s magnetic eyes slid from her face and he caught his teeth in his lower lip. He moved his hand from hers and reached for her shoulder. Grasping the strap of her sundress, he raised it back up to her shoulder, skimming her soft skin and instantly raising goose bumps.

  “C’mon, Carly girl. Come with me,” he whispered.

  She was lost.

  Chapter Three

  This had to be the worst night of her life. After a dinner of a dry hamburger, soggy fries and uncomfortable conversation, Wheeler had insisted they go dancing. Not taking no for an answer, he had driven across Albuquerque to one of the seediest dumps she had ever seen. In a loud voice, he’d ordered her a watery drink and proceeded to introduce her as “his hottie for the night.”

  After ignoring her, shooting a couple of rounds of pool and losing a wad of money, he had started drinking in earnest. It was well past time to go. The country music at the cramped, hazy bar was pounding into Carly’s brain and the thick cigarette smoke stung her eyes.

  Gazing down at her half-finished cocktail, she played with the straw and glanced at her watch. Two A.M. She should be asleep right now. There was a production meeting at the theater tomorrow morning … wait … this morning. Shit. It wasn’t like her to show up unprepared and exhausted. She was beyond irritated that the bonehead hadn’t taken any of her subtle hints. But one way or another, she had to get out of there. Pasting a bright smile on her face, she looked up at Wheeler.

  “Hey there, handsome,” she began. “Have you looked at a clock lately?”

  She was alarmed to see that his gorgeous eyes were now red-rimmed, and he had a nose to match. His leather jacket was stained with mustard and a toothpick dangled from the corner of his mouth.

  “Whats’a matter, good lookin’? Doncha like to party?” he retorted, grabbing her shoulder with a rough hand.

  He shoved her toward the dance floor, crashing into a table as they went. What in the hell was she thinking? This guy was completely different from the dashing officer who had rescued her that afternoon. She looked up into his foggy eyes and decided to take matters into her own hands.

  Carly wrenched her shoulder from his grasp and turned, heading for the exit. Images of a handsome and charming Wheeler flooded her tired mind, but she pushed the bitter thoughts away. She slammed open the door and walked into the dark parking lot past the blare of the music, pulling her completely charged cell phone from her purse. Tapping an impatient foot on the gravel, she fretted for a minute before scrolling to the number for the hotel. Just as she was about to hit “send,” Wheeler grabbed her arm and spun her around.

 
; “Where do you think you’re goin’?” he demanded.

  His breath was a fog of whiskey and his eyes glittered in the dim light provided by the neon sign above the bar. This time, Carly was way too angry to be intimidated by him.

  “I’m going wherever I want, and believe me, you aren’t invited!” she shouted, shoving him in the chest.

  In the flash of an eye, Wheeler snatched the phone from her hand and hurled it into the bushes across the parking lot. Stumbling, he hooted as it connected with a rock.

  “Always did have good aim,” he crowed, making shooting motions with his fingers.

  Disgusted with Wheeler, and though she hated to admit it, furious with herself, Carly stalked back across the gravel to the roadhouse door. Before she even got halfway, Wheeler’s hands were on her again.

  “Dammit!” she yelled and struggled to free herself.

  This time, though, his grip was like iron. He whirled her around and pinched her face in one of his large hands.

  “Carly girl, you are just askin’ for it.”

  He lowered his head and enveloped her lips in a sloppy wet kiss. Carly gagged on the taste of cheap alcohol and cigarettes. Panic kicked in and she brought her knee up into his crotch. Hard. He released her and doubled over.

  Howling, he stumbled backward and slammed his head on a truck’s side mirror. Cursing at the top of his lungs, he grabbed the mirror and wrenched it off the truck. He stomped on it until it cracked and then gave it a violent kick. Fear replaced Carly’s anger.

  Not taking her eyes from him, she inched her way through the dark toward the bar as Wheeler stumbled to his car and still cursing, managed to start it and back up.

  She squeezed herself behind some bushes next to the door as he careened around the parking lot, looking for her.

  “Carly. Get out here. NOW!” he screamed, “You better listen to me, girl. You’ll regret this.”

  Every part of her wanted to go back inside, but she had to make sure he left. After a few endless minutes, Wheeler gave up and pulled out of the lot with a screech of tires. Her knees shaking in relief, Carly eased out of her hiding place and took a deep breath.

  She looked up at the stars and set her mouth in a grim line. “I am not going to cry. I am not going to freak,” she said. Her voice shook.

  “No reason to.”

  Relief flooded through her and she searched the dark for the source of the familiar voice.

  “Daniel? Daniel? Where are you?” she asked.

  A tall, thin, dark-haired man emerged from the shadows near the bushes and walked toward her. He was holding her cell phone, but he wasn’t Daniel. He stopped in front of her and held it out, a compassionate smile warming his deep brown eyes.

  “It’s not broken,” he stated. His voice was warm and soothing.

  “But … Daniel … ” she began.

  The man’s smile widened and dimples formed in his gaunt cheeks. “I may sound like Daniel and I may look like Daniel, but I am definitely not him. I’m Asher.”

  “But … ” she started again.

  He held the cell phone closer. “You can call Daniel if you really want to, but you would most likely wake up Sophie … and she isn’t in a great mood these days.”

  Carly understood then. “Why didn’t you just tell me you’re Daniel’s brother?” she asked, taking the phone.

  “Just wanted to see how quick you are,” He gave her another smile and thrust his hands into the pockets of his old jeans.

  Carly stared at him. “Well, I appreciate you finding my phone, but I am absolutely not in the mood to be judged by any more men this evening.” She narrowed her eyes. “And by the way, what were you doing hiding in the bushes? If you saw that loser attack me, why didn’t you do something?”

  The smile wiped from his face, Asher pulled his hands out of his pockets and laced them behind his head.

  “Look, I didn’t want to interfere as long as you were kicking his ass on your own. Believe me, I was watching. If that asshole so much as raised a hand to you, I would have been on him like a shot.” With that, he turned on his heel and stomped back toward the edge of the parking lot.

  Carly shoved the phone in her purse and followed him. “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Home,” he answered.

  “Ruby Spring, I hope?” she asked, catching up to him as he opened the door of an old VW van.

  Asher turned and gazed down at her. His expression softened and in the glow of the van’s interior light, his face was all compassion. Carly glanced into the side mirror on the door and noted her smeared lipstick and the dark shadows under her eyes. No wonder he felt sorry for her. She looked like a train wreck. And she couldn’t quit staring at him. With a hint of a smile, he reached out for her shoulder.

  “Get in.”

  They rode in silence for a while, the winking lights of Albuquerque dimming as they climbed into the mountains. The moon was bright overhead in the clear sky and Carly rolled down the window to let the cool breeze ruffle her hair. Pretending to close her eyes, she peered at Asher from beneath her lashes. The glow from the dashboard illuminated his features.

  He did look like Daniel. But Asher was much thinner, if that was even possible. The gauntness made him look severe, but his dark eyes were thoughtful and expressive. Magnetic, actually. Thin streaks of gray peppered his wavy brown hair and faint lines etched the corners of his well-formed mouth. Large tapered fingers gripped the steering wheel. His legs were wide apart, his left knee drawn up to rest against the door. Carly glanced back up at his face again. A small smile curved his lips and she realized with dismay that she had been busted staring at him.

  She gave a huge fake yawn and looked around the interior of the van. Suitcases, boxes and several stacked canvas frames were wedged tightly into the back seats.

  “What’s with the paintings?” she asked in a casual tone.

  Asher glanced at her, then back at the road. A pained expression clouded his eyes.

  “Oh, just some dabbling,” he answered, just as casually.

  “That’s a lot of work for just a dabbler,” she stated, “and a lot of luggage for a person who lives around here.” She peered over at him again.

  His face remained blank as he concentrated on the road. “I used to live here. Now I do again. End of story.”

  Silence again. She toyed with the door lock and smoothed the skirt of her sundress. “So what were you doing at that dump?” she tried again.

  “Just having a drink before going home. You have a problem with that?” he responded.

  Carly mentally kicked herself. “Hey, I’m not usually that nosy. Today I’ve been finding myself making a lot of extra chit-chat. Meeting new people and all that.” She laughed. “I’m not a ditzy woman or anything. Quite a few people even tell me that sometimes I’m too close-mouthed, but I’ll bet you wouldn’t believe them, would you?” She looked over again, a hopeful smile in her eyes.

  Unfortunately, Asher didn’t look amused. Slowing down, he turned the van up the bumpy road leading to Ruby Spring.

  “You worry way too much about what other people think of you, don’t you?” he replied, still staring at the road.

  She turned back to the window, blinking as the truth of his words buzzed through her. The van bounced along in silence and she gripped her purse, suddenly wanting more than anything to be in bed, completely under the covers, and fast asleep. She sensed Asher looking at her, but refused to move her head. Finally, the van rolled to a stop and she yanked off her seatbelt, wrenched open the door and jumped to the ground.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she shot over her shoulder and ran for the steps of the hotel. Tears stung her eyes as she turned the doorknob.

  Asher’s deep voice reached her as she shut the door. “Wait! What’s your name?”

 
; She ignored him.

  Chapter Four

  Carly woke with a start and stared in confusion around the unfamiliar room. Soft morning light beaming through the lace curtains made patterns on the old hardwood floor. An antique rocker stood near the door; her pink sundress lay in a crumpled heap on its seat. Realization dawned on her and she pulled the comfy quilt over her head.

  What had she been thinking last night? She knew better than to go out the night before starting a new summer job. On four hours of sleep the night before, spent in a car. And with a stranger, nonetheless! A stranger who turned out to be a grade-A asshole, she thought with resentment. Carly turned over on her side and stared at the lavender floral wallpaper.

  And then last night, three hours of sleep. Impressive. She had to slow down. Just because she had finally taken a job that she really and truly cared about, one that was going to be exciting and professionally fulfilling didn’t mean that she had to lose her senses and act on instinct every moment of the day. But why not? She was twenty-nine years old … not fifty-nine. I’m too anal. It’s just two night’s sleep messed up. What’s the big deal?

  But it was a big deal to Carly. This summer … well, this summer was somehow supposed to be different. She’d promised it to herself. She shut her eyes and willed her body to relax. She needed to take care of herself, for God’s sake. And the best way to start was by not beating herself up. She needed another hour of sleep.

  Willing herself back to snooze-land, though, proved fruitless. Through one of the cracked-open windows, she heard familiar voices. Carly crept out of bed and opened the window the rest of the way. Ross stood in the dusty street in front of the hotel, a giant travel mug of coffee in hand, the requisite baseball cap jammed onto his head. Sophie, one arm full of scripts and pencils, stood next to him rubbing the small of her back.

  “She got back here when?” Ross exclaimed.

  “About three in the morning, I guess, give or take,” Sophie replied, “I woke up when I heard the van, and I knew it was Asher. Danny got up and came around front to meet him.” She gestured to the back of the hotel, where she and Daniel shared an apartment in the basement.