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The Memory of You

Page 26

by Laurie Kellogg


  “No. Matt wouldn’t have done that. Even the night I conceived Tommy, I had to talk him into making love.”

  “There you go.” He waved his hand toward her. “That just supports my argument. I’ll wager he didn’t put up much of a fight, did he?”

  Tears spilled over the rims of her eyes. “Why are you trying to make me question whether my husband really loved me?”

  Was that what he was trying to do? “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, it’s not intentional.”

  Maybe he hoped if he destroyed Abby’s fairytale memory of the man she once loved, she’d be able to see him as he really was now when she learned his identity.

  “I guess I’m just a little jealous. Come here.” Matt stood, pulled her to her feet, and gently brushed her lips with his, sipping her sweetness. It wasn’t the sensuality of their kiss or even the tiny whimper he elicited from her that got him so worked up. It was the memory of holding Abby naked, feeling her warm breath in his ear, and hearing her gasps of pleasure.

  He squeezed her tightly and groaned. “Baby, I’d give anything to stay here and make love to you all afternoon.”

  Drawing back, she narrowed her gaze. “So is that your line? Make me think you’d give up getting a job in exchange for an afternoon in my arms? Do you think I’ll be so impressed I’ll change my mind about slowing things down?”

  “Is it working?”

  She shook her head, wearing a half smile. “Not a chance. Besides, I have a fitting scheduled for this afternoon. Mrs. Dalton will be coming at two.”

  “Lucky her.” He wiggled his eyebrows, grinding the beginnings of a hard-on into Abby’s stomach. “Say the word, and I’ll have you coming in the next few minutes, too.”

  She chuckled and smacked him on the rear. “Go get yourself a job, pervert.”

  ~~~

  Matt steered Abby’s GTO down the long driveway that twisted through the expansive green lawns surrounding TDI’s campus. His stomach did a series of flip-flops. At the security gate, the guard directed Matt to Donald Albright’s building and instructed him to see the director’s secretary, Denise Monroe, who turned out to be a shapely young black woman in her mid-twenties with big brown doe-eyes and a dazzling smile.

  While cooling his heels nearly a half hour outside Albright’s office, he listened to Denise answer the phone and joke with the rest of the staff. She seemed to have a great sense of humor—and a naked ring finger. If he got the job there, he’d definitely have to set Leonard up with her. The woman would knock his socks off.

  The longer he waited, the more nervous he became. Please, God, cut me a break on this one.

  Abby’s benefits as his widow would be rescinded any day now, so if he had any hope of supporting his wife and son, he had to get this job. If he didn’t, finding the money for Tommy’s piano lessons would be the least of his worries.

  When the secretary finally announced Matt at almost two-thirty, the personnel director stood and shook his hand. Albright had apparently already read his résumé.

  The director settled in the leather armchair behind his massive desk and motioned for Matt to sit. “Rob told me about your background, so I guess a normal interview won’t reveal much in your case. I can hardly ask you to tell me about yourself, now can I?”

  “All I can tell you is what’s on that résumé—or anything you want to know about electrical and mechanical engineering.

  “That’s okay. This job has made me pretty good at reading people.”

  “Well, I figured you only agreed to interview me because Rob had an electric drill in your mouth.” Matt chuckled. “The fact you’re meeting with me, knowing I have no memory, has me wondering if perhaps a little dental coercion was involved?”

  Albright laughed. “Actually, I do have a little pressure on me to give you a chance. However, pain isn’t the motivating factor. Rob was my son Gary’s roommate in college. The hours he spent tutoring Gary is the only reason my son graduated. Rob’s a great guy, and I owe him. This interview is how he wants to be repaid. So when can you start?”

  “Is tomorrow too soon?”

  “Actually, we like to start our new-hires on Mondays. We have an employee benefit orientation. A week from today at eight o’clock will be fine.”

  “You mean I’m hired? Just like that?” Matt snapped his fingers. “Don’t I have to interview with the prospective department manager?”

  “Normally, you would. But in your case, we can skip that. We’re not taking much of a risk hiring you, Matt. You seem to have all the right qualifications, and you’ll be on a thirty-day probation just like any other employee. If your supervisor isn’t satisfied with your performance, the company will let you go during the first month. If you want the job, it’s yours.”

  “Heck, yeah, I want it.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know what we’re offering in salary and benefits before you accept?”

  He had to cool it. He was coming across like a wallflower who’d just been asked to dance. The man would end up offering him minimum wage if he let him see how desperate he was.

  Taking a deep steadying breath, Matt looked the director right in the eye. “Mr. Albright, I’m ready to give this company one hundred percent, and I trust I’ll be paid accordingly. It’s no huge gamble for me, either. If I’m not treated fairly, after a year, I’ll simply take my experience from working here and find a new job with one of your competitors.”

  The director leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers while he studied Matt through narrowed eyes. When Matt stared back for several moments without flinching, the man smiled. “We’re prepared to start you out in the middle of our pay scale. It’s about how much the engineers who’ve been here for four or five years are earning.”

  Whoa. He did a double take. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m not complaining, but why so much? I have practically no experience.”

  “Because TDI has corporate limits on the percentage of the increase we can give you at your review,” Albright explained. “Any man who attended Princeton and sold a patent on one of his designs before he even got a job isn’t exactly lacking in the brains and initiative departments. I have a feeling you’re a keeper.”

  That’s why he’d been kept waiting in the outer office so long. The director had probably been checking out the credentials listed on Matt’s résumé.

  Matt did a victory lap in his head over his home run. “Since you seem interested in hiring people who are worth keeping, can I recommend someone? I promise you’d never regret taking him on, either.”

  “Sorry. We really don’t need another engineer right now.”

  “This guy isn’t an engineer. He’s got a degree in business administration, so he’d fit anywhere in management. In fact, I’m so confident you’ll be happy with him, if you’re not, you can take whatever you’ve paid him out of my salary—sort of a money back guarantee.”

  The director hesitated. “Well....”

  “Would it help if this man is a minority applicant?”

  He pushed a pad and pen across the desk. “Give me his name and phone number.”

  Matt took Leonard’s number out of his wallet and scribbled it on the paper.

  “You know, I’m not entirely sure I should be hiring you as an engineer,” the director said. Matt’s hand froze. Biting his lip, he looked up, and Albright chuckled. “Not when you have such an obvious talent for sales.”

  Chapter 17

  As soon as Matt climbed out of the car in the driveway, Abby ran out to meet him. “Well, how’d your interview go?”

  He scooped her up and swung her in a circle. “Sweetheart, a week from today, you’ll be looking at a working man.”

  “Really?” She hugged his neck. “Congratulations.”

  “Not only did I get a job, but they’re paying me a bundle. And they’re going to call Leonard in for an interview, too.”

  He let Abby slide down his body and captured her mouth in a long searching kiss. His lower half stirred, eager to take things f
urther. When he drew back, he tangled his fingers in her silky hair and whispered, “Do I really have to sleep all by myself in that lonely guestroom tonight?”

  “Yes. Unless you’d prefer the couch.”

  “Damn. And here I thought I was on a winning streak.”

  She held his arm while they strolled into the house. “Since you’re gainfully employed now, how about we celebrate and take the boys out for that pizza we never had the other night?”

  “Okay.” He shrugged his suit jacket off and stopped short, slapping his forehead. “No, wait. We can’t go out. I’ll go get the pizza and bring it back to the house.”

  “That didn’t work very well the last time, now did it?” She chuckled. “The boys would enjoy eating out for a change.”

  Great. She might never let him sleep with her again after she heard about the call he’d made. “Uhh....about Tommy and the piano.” He bit his lip. “You see, I called a—”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that.” She smiled. “I gave it a lot of thought, and you’re right. We should have someone evaluate him. But that’s as much as I’m committing to now.”

  He opened his mouth to tell her about the appointment he’d already scheduled, but she cut him off, again. “I won’t stand for anyone placing demands on Tommy that’ll stress him beyond his limits.”

  “I’m in total agreement. It’s up to us to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “As long as we agree on no pressure, you can call someone.”

  “Well....” He winced, bracing himself for an atomic blast as he blurted out, “Someone who used to be a concert pianist is coming to hear him tonight.”

  Her mouth dropped open, but before she had a chance to light into him, Royce ran into the kitchen and hurled himself at Matt’s legs. “Dad, I got somethin’ to show you.”

  Taking advantage of the reprieve from Abby’s outburst, he followed Royce to Tommy’s bedroom. The little boy handed him his journal.

  Matt smiled and read the child’s entry. The immaturity of the handwriting didn’t surprise him, but the vocabulary Royce used did. His imagination and grasp of words were impressive.

  The child had written a story, complete with dialogue, about a little boy whose best friend had gotten a pair of roller skates. The only thing his friend wanted to do was skate.

  Matt’s chest tightened at reading Royce’s obvious feelings of neglect and his resentment toward his pal’s fascination with the piano. He pursed his lips. “This is great, Sport. It’s almost like what Tommy’s doing, isn’t it? He’s been playing the piano and not paying any attention to you.”

  Royce looked down. “I hate that piano. I hope it breaks.”

  “I don’t think you mean that.” Matt squeezed him to his chest. “You don’t really want something bad to happen that would make Tommy unhappy, do you?”

  The child shook his downcast head, shame staining his cheeks. “No. I just wish he’d play with me.”

  Matt’s throat swelled. “I know. Eventually he’ll stop spending so much time at it.” He pulled the child into his lap. “In the meantime, maybe you could try sitting with him while he’s playing and write some more stories for me. That way you and Tommy can be together and still do what you each like.”

  Royce’s eyes brightened. “Hey, yeah. That’s a good idea.”

  “You said only your mom and I could look at your journal, but do you think maybe Abby could read it, too?”

  “Sure.” Royce shrugged. “She’s the same as my mom.”

  “Thanks. I’m going to take this and show it to her.”

  Making a mental note to remember to write something in his book to give to Royce the next day, Matt took the notebook to the kitchen. He found Abby bent over the counter, busy decorating a cake. He stepped behind her and slipped his arms around her. “What’s the occasion?”

  She looked back at him and smiled. “I baked it as either a celebration or a consolation cake, depending on the outcome of your interview. I figured, if it turned out you had nothing to rejoice over, maybe you’d want to bury your sorrows in double chocolate fudge.

  “Thanks.” He kissed her neck. “You’re a sweetheart.” He tossed Royce’s journal on the table. “I think you should read this. You’re not the only one around here who’s plagued with jealousy of the eighty-eight-keyed monster.”

  She read through the notebook and the corners of her mouth drooped. “Oh, Mac, he sounds so sad. He’s lost his father and his best friend both in the same week.”

  Matt wiped his finger along the edge of the chocolate icing bowl and licked it. “I know. Starting tomorrow, we need to limit Tommy’s time at the piano to a couple of hours each day.”

  “I never realized Royce had such a vivid imagination.”

  “Tell me about it. What I remember about being six was See Spot run.”

  “Well, he’s been fascinated with books since he was really little. I discovered him reading to Tommy one afternoon right after the boys turned three.”

  Matt wrapped his arms around her. “You can call me biased, but I think we’ve got two extraordinary children on our hands.”

  ~~~

  Bernard Heller arrived at seven o’clock. Matt called his son out of his bedroom and introduced them. “Tommy, do you think you could play In My Life for Mr. Heller?”

  Tommy shook his head and pressed his face into Abby’s side. “I don’t wanna.”

  She lifted her hands and sighed. “I guess that settles that. We’re sorry to bring you here for nothing, Mr. Heller.”

  Matt put his hand on the man’s arm to stop him from leaving. “No. That doesn’t settle it. Come here, Buddy.” He squatted down to his son’s level. “Mr. Heller is a piano teacher. You want to learn how to play, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Tommy pouted. “But I want you to teach me. You play really good.”

  “Playing an instrument and teaching it are different. You’ll have to let someone else help you. Mr. Heller needs you to show him what you already know.”

  The child’s face filled with turmoil and twisted with indecision. “I only like to play for you and Mommy. I don’t wanna play for other people.”

  That was just great. His child would grow up to be a musician extraordinaire who would only play for his parents.

  Heller hunkered down next to Tommy. “I know how you feel. When I was younger, I didn’t like performing, either. How about I play a little bit for you, and then you can play something for me?”

  When Tommy nodded, Heller seated himself at the piano and played Chopin’s Grande Valse Brillante and the Minute Waltz. “And here’s a new one from Elton John you might recognize.” Heller smiled at Tommy. “Have you heard Crocodile Rock?”

  Matt wasn’t familiar with the artist, but judging from Tommy’s enthusiasm when Heller pounded out the opening bars this Elton guy must be popular.

  The liveliness of the pieces Heller had chosen and the intricate fingering filled Tommy’s face with wonder. Right before Matt’s eyes, his son developed a full-fledged case of hero worship.

  After Heller finished, he turned to Tommy. “Would you like to learn to play like that?”

  Tommy’s eyes rounded. “D-do you think I can?”

  “I don’t know. Why not show me what you can do, now?”

  His son eagerly pushed the pianist from the bench and played what he’d learned in the three days since he’d discovered the instrument. Heller stood back and cocked an eyebrow at them. “How long did you say the child’s been playing?”

  When Matt said hesitantly, “Three days?”the man’s jaw went slack. “You have to understand,” Matt quickly explained, “he hasn’t been away from the piano except to eat, sleep, and go to school.”

  “I don’t care if he played around the clock. The child is only six. I’ve never seen so much natural aptitude and talent in a kid his age.” He waved toward Tommy. “I’m definitely interested in taking him as a student in a few years. But right now, I can’t teach him any more than a good
piano teacher can.”

  Abby jumped in at that point. “Mr. Heller, I appreciate that you think my son is exceptional, but I’m concerned how this is going to affect him as a whole person. If I ever hear anyone pressure or scold him over his effort or performance, I’ll stop his lessons immediately.”

  Matt wanted to applaud. He couldn’t have told the man better himself what their expectations would be. He raised his eyebrows. “So would you be in accord with Mrs. Foster?”

  “I guess I’d have to be. A gift like your son’s shouldn’t be wasted. Besides, I don’t imagine it’ll be my or anyone else’s expectations you’ll need to be concerned about. If Tommy is the musical prodigy I suspect he is, you’ll have to worry about how hard he drives himself.”

  After Heller gave them the names of three well-respected piano teachers and left, Abby buried her face in Matt’s chest. “I’m scared. I don’t know if I’m up to raising a gifted child.”

  He turned her face up and kissed her. “We’re raising him. And you are up to it. If we leave the music lessons to Tommy’s teachers and concentrate on loving him, we can’t go wrong.”

  ~~~

  Mac returned from carrying Royce home at the same time Abby was heading for her bedroom. He stopped at the end of the hallway and dragged his gaze over her, making slow love to her with his eyes.

  Her breasts tightened, and moisture collected between her legs, making her squirm. “Umm—I’m on my way to bed. Goodnight.”

  He stepped within a few inches of her. “I’m not very sleepy. I think I’ll go downstairs to your dad’s workshop.”

  “What are you so busy making?”

  “A present for you. No peeking.” He brushed her mouth with his.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. I love surprises.”

  “You know, it wouldn’t take much to convince me to stay here, instead.” He slid his arms around her, slipping his hands down the back of her jeans into her panties. Cupping her bottom, he pulled her snug against his arousal. “Come on, what do you say,” he whispered. “Let me take you to bed.”

 

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