Jessica sighed dramatically as though Sam had just asked her to crawl across broken glass on her bare knees. She’d been whining all morning, the football was the last place on earth she wanted to be on a Saturday afternoon, or any afternoon for that matter. But Jess was the least of Sam’s problems.
Josh had surprised Sam when she’d first asked him to come to the football. He’d simply shrugged and muttered, ‘Whatever’. But this morning when she reminded him, he told her flatly that he wouldn’t be coming.
‘But why not, Josh?’
‘Cause I don’t want to,’ he said simply, walking away.
‘Joshua, you made a commitment . . .’
He looked around. ‘I didn’t sign a contract, Mum, you can’t make me.’
Sam felt powerless. How was she supposed to discipline him any more? He was physically bigger than her, and he seemed to be losing respect for everyone around him. She’d had a letter home from school that he’d been on detention more than three times in the past month, which required them to notify parents. Sam had called and arranged an interview with his year adviser. It was time they knew what was going on at home anyway.
‘Hey Samantha,’ said Hal, coming into the kitchen behind Jessica.
‘Hi Hal,’ Sam returned brightly.
‘It’s good to see you again,’ he said, smiling warmly at her.
Sam hoped she wasn’t blushing. She wished Max had never pointed out his square jaw. It was a bit distracting now that she was aware of it.
‘Good to see you too!’ she chirped. ‘Come on, Ellie, we’re leaving!’ she called out into the family room.
Ellie ran into the kitchen, her arms laden with stuffed animals. ‘Can I bring Zoey, Mum?’ Zoey was a zebra, almost the size of Ellie.
‘Sure –’
‘And can I bring Kermie and Eeyore?’
‘Yes and yes. But Ellie, where are your manners? You haven’t said hello to Mr Buchanan.’
Ellie looked up at Hal, then at her mother. ‘That’s not Mr Blue Cannon, Mummy, that’s Hal.’
He grinned. ‘How are you, Ellie?’
‘Good,’ she smiled shyly.
‘Where’s your boy?’ Hal asked Sam.
She sighed. ‘Josh has changed his mind, unfortunately. So it looks like it’s just us.’
Hal surveyed the three of them. Jessica stood scowling in the corner; Ellie had plonked herself on the floor and was busily dressing Kermit the Frog in a doll’s outfit, and the manic smile on Sam’s face did not mask her obvious trepidation about the whole excursion.
‘Do you mind if I talk to Josh, see if I can’t change his mind back again?’ Hal asked.
Sam couldn’t imagine that coming to any good. ‘Well, if you really want to. He’s not the most communicative kid.’
Hal shrugged. ‘He’s fourteen, isn’t he? I think it’s in the job description.’
Sam directed him to Josh’s room and he knocked on the door. There was a grunted reply.
‘Hello, Josh. It’s Hal Buchanan. Do you mind if I come in?’
After a brief pause, he heard a muffled, ‘It’s open’.
Hal pushed the door back slowly. The boy was lying on his bed, his hands clasped behind his head, a slightly bemused expression on his face. Hal had obviously only been granted admission out of curiosity.
‘Hey,’ he nodded.
Josh just looked at him.
‘Your mother said you’ve decided not to come to the football today.’
‘So?’
‘Well, I’d be real grateful if you’d reconsider.’
‘Why?’
Hal sighed. ‘You should check out the Spice Girls downstairs. Your sister looks like she’d rather chew off her own arm than come along. Ellie’s bringing a zoo that she won’t be able to manage by herself, so I’m gonna have to walk around carrying a stuffed zebra and a frog dressed in baby clothes. And your mother’s wearing a knitted scarf that I’m pretty sure combines the colours of both teams playing today. And she’s got this big picnic hamper thing happening. It’s a nightmare.’
Hal thought he might just have caught a flicker of amusement in Josh’s eyes. He looked around the room. The walls were lined with football posters; trophies and other paraphernalia cluttered every surface.
‘You’re obviously a fan, what’s the problem?’
Josh breathed out. ‘This is a set-up.’
‘What do you mean, a set-up?’
‘You’re dating my mum so you want to get on the kids’ good side. So how about,’ he continued, affecting an American accent, ‘I ask him to take me to a football game and we’ll bond.’
Hal was amused. He leaned back against the desk. ‘First of all I’m not dating your mom. I’m just one of her clients. This is for real. I know nothing about your football and I feel like a dumb Yank every time anyone talks about it.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s because American football is dumb,’ Josh sniggered. ‘What’s with all the padding? It’s so gay. And all they do is run along in a row and stop like, every five seconds. It’s crap.’
Hal crossed his arms and took a deep breath. ‘So, why don’t you show me what’s so great about your football?’
Josh eyed him suspiciously. ‘You’re not dating Mum?’
He shook his head. ‘Truth be told, I don’t even think she likes me much.’
Hal saw a smile play on the boy’s lips for the first time.
Barely five minutes after Hal had gone upstairs, Sam heard what sounded like two sets of footsteps coming down. She was surprised to see Josh walking ahead of Hal into the kitchen.
‘We’re goin’, Mum,’ said Josh. ‘You don’t need to come. The girls either.’
‘Woohoo!’ cheered Jessica, skipping out of the room. ‘MumcanIringEmmathanksMum,’ she said, without taking a breath or waiting for a reply.
Sam looked beyond Josh to where Hal was leaning against the doorjamb. He shrugged, smiling at her.
‘Maybe I should come though,’ said Sam. ‘I am paid to do this, after all.’
‘No Mum, we’ll talk about my cut when I get home,’ Josh replied. ‘And we’ll take the food, but not in the gay basket.’
Wednesday
‘Samantha Holmes?’
‘Speaking.’
‘Alex Driscoll calling, putting you through now.’
Alex obviously couldn’t spare the time to dial her own calls. Sam wondered what that would be like. Saying to your assistant, ‘Get me my sister on the line, would you? The middle one, and check her name again for me first.’
‘Hello, Sam?’
‘Hi, Alex. How are you?’
‘I’m fine. I’m calling about the account from the solicitor –’
‘Oh, I hope it wasn’t too much?’
‘That’s not it at all. The last one was a while back and there hasn’t been another since. You’re not trying to cover it yourself, are you?’
‘No,’ said Sam. ‘I’ve only been the once.’
‘Well, what’s going on?’ Alex sounded surprised. ‘Have you and Jeff reconciled?’
‘No –’
‘Then what?’
Sam sighed heavily. ‘The solicitor gave me some advice and now it’s up to me whether I want to take it any further.’
‘What was the advice?’
‘Um, well, he felt I should think about selling the house.’
‘So have you?’
‘What, sold the house?’
‘No,’ said Alex. ‘Have you thought about it?’
‘Well, yes, sure. It’s just . . .’
‘What, Sam? What?’
‘It’s a big step.’ A no-turning-back step. Not that there was any turning back from here. But still.
‘Samantha, you have bought and sold houses three times now, am I right?’
‘Yes.’
‘So what is the problem?’
‘It’s different this time. I’m scaling down, not moving up. And I’m on my own. It just feels more daunting.’
; ‘How did you go about it before?’
Sam thought for a minute. She drove around a lot, discovered the best streets, checked every realtor in the area and calculated what would be a fair price to pay. She also read the real estate section in the newspaper religiously, even after they’d moved to Cherrybrook and she had no intention of buying or selling again. She just found it interesting.
‘I suppose I did some research,’ Sam offered vaguely.
‘Exactly,’ Alex declared. ‘You’re going to have to get on with it, Sam. This state of inertia is no good for anyone.’
‘I just thought the children needed some time before another change was thrust upon them.’
‘Fair enough,’ she agreed. ‘But leave it too long and you’ll upset them all over again. They’ll be lulled into a false sense of security, believing nothing else is going to change.’
Sam hadn’t thought about it like that.
‘If you don’t want to go on your own, then take Maxine.’
‘It’s not so much going on my own, it’s being on my own. I don’t know how agents treat you when they know you’re a single Mum . . .’
‘I honestly think they couldn’t care less, as long as they get a sale out of it.’
‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘If it bothers you so much, don’t tell them, or take a male friend, whatever. But get on and do something.’
‘I will.’
‘And call me.’ Her voice lost its crockery-hard edge. ‘Call me, okay? Let me know how you go.’
‘Thanks Alex.’
May
Sam arrived at the IGB building and pushed through glass doors into a voluminous foyer. She had come into the city today on various errands for her clients and she was due to meet Vanessa and Dominic for lunch at one. Dropping in casually to see Hal Buchanan at work was a good offhand way, she felt, to broach her idea.
Which was to ask him to come house-hunting with her. She had thought this over carefully, it might even be said, obsessively. Yes, she had gone house-hunting many times on her own before. But she had a husband then. How had Max put it? Jeff was like a safety net. Sam could perform any number of complicated manoeuvres with the security of knowing he was there. She was all the more accomplished if she never actually had to fall back on him.
She supposed she could say she was married. But what about when she found a house? It would all come out eventually and then she’d look pathetic.
Having a man come along was the best alternative. Sam was not going to pretend Hal was her husband, and neither would she hide the fact she was separated. She wouldn’t explain his presence except to say he was a friend, but the realtor was likely to surmise more. The assumption would be that Hal was her partner and that he would be involved in the purchase of the property. She had her safety net.
And why Hal? Well, first off, Sam didn’t know any other single men. She supposed she could ask one of the girls if she could borrow a husband. Col was out of the question, Michael was a little shy, so that would just leave Gavin. Spending an entire day with him was an ordeal she could do without. Besides, she doubted Fiona could spare him.
Then there was the fact that Hal was American and therefore brash, confident, straight-shooting. Which was a stereotype, Sam knew, but it’s how the agents would see him. That couldn’t hurt. And finally, she would be killing two birds with one stone if she could convince Hal that checking out real estate was an excellent way to ‘acclimatise’.
He was the obvious choice. It had nothing at all to do with his square jaw, as she’d told Maxine, who had tried to insist otherwise.
‘So you’re saying you’re not attracted to him?’
‘This is what I’m saying.’
‘Have you had your eyes checked lately?’
‘I can see fine, but I’m not looking, Max!’ Sam had declared. ‘Besides, I’m way out of his league, remember?’
‘Well, as long as you’re keeping that in mind.’
Sam frowned at her. ‘I know, he can’t be so desperate he’d be interested in me.’
‘Oh, you know what I mean,’ Max dismissed. ‘It’s just that you’re seeing a lot of him lately, I’ve been worried about you.’
Sam sighed. ‘He and Josh go to the football together. I invite him in for coffee afterwards because it’s the polite thing to do.’
‘Didn’t he stay for dinner the other night?’
‘So? Hal doesn’t know anybody here. I was being hospitable.’
‘I just don’t want you to get your heart broken.’
‘I won’t get my heart broken, Max!’ Sam insisted. ‘I’m not even looking for a relationship, and I promise you I wouldn’t consider Hal if I was.’
‘You wouldn’t?’
‘Absolutely not. For one thing, he’s a client,’ she began, counting off on her fingers. ‘And he’s only in the country on a temporary basis. And he’s a client. And he lives in the US. And have I mentioned he’s a client?’
‘Only like, three times,’ said Max.
‘I’ve made my point then?’
So now Sam was standing here in the foyer of the building where he worked, a chill rapidly developing in her feet. She looked across at the bank of elevators flanked by security screens, requiring an identity card to pass through. Clearly, dropping in casually was not the done thing at IGB. There was a vast reception desk to one side. Perhaps if she asked for him by name they’d let her in. She approached the desk and the receptionist smiled tersely at her.
‘Can I help you?’
‘I was looking for a Mr Buchanan, Hal Buchanan?’
The woman frowned slightly. ‘Do you have an appointment?’
‘Oh . . . no, I don’t actually.’ Sam faltered, wondering how best to explain herself. ‘I, um, I’m just a friend.’
‘Is Mr Buchanan expecting you?’
Sam shook her head lamely. The woman checked her watch. It was too early for lunch. She probably thought Sam was some desperate one-night stand stalking him the morning after.
‘I can phone through, see if he’s available.’ She raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘Would you like me to do that?’
‘Yes, please . . . if it’s no trouble.’
She considered Sam sceptically. ‘What name shall I give him?’
‘Samantha Holmes.’
The woman picked up the phone and turned just slightly away from her as she dialled. ‘Mr Buchanan? It’s Reception. There is a Ms Samantha Holmes here to see you.’
A moment later she replaced the receiver and cleared her throat, not making eye contact. ‘Mr Buchanan will be down directly.’
‘Thank you.’
Sam wandered away from the desk, gazing up into the vast atrium that stretched upwards for five or six floors. The elevator announced itself with a ping, and she turned around as Hal stepped through the doors. He looked over and smiled broadly at her. Sam glanced at the receptionist who was watching on the sly, eyebrows raised.
Hal walked towards her. ‘Hey Sam, to what do I owe this?’
‘Well, I was just passing,’ she faltered. ‘I thought I’d make a courtesy call, you know? I didn’t realise it would be such a big deal.’
Hal glanced back at reception. ‘Yeah, it’s like Fort Knox around here.’ He watched her fidgeting with her handbag; she looked awkward. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing. Everything’s fine.’
He considered her for a moment. ‘Do you want to grab a cup of coffee?’
‘Oh no, I didn’t mean to take you away from your work . . .’
‘Then that’s a bonus,’ he grinned.
He guided her by the elbow back out through the glass doors and into the sunshine. It was a bright autumn day. Everything seemed crisp and clean at this time of the year, even in the city. Like the place was having a loofah scrub, sloughing off the dead layers from summer.
Hal stepped up to a coffee barrow. ‘How do you have it?’
‘Flat white, thanks.’
‘That’s regul
ar coffee with milk, isn’t it?’
She nodded, and he seemed pleased with himself. A minute later he passed her a steaming cardboard cup and they walked over to a bench and sat down.
‘So, just passing, eh?’ Hal started.
Sam looked at him sideways. ‘I was in town, I thought I’d save myself a call.’
‘A call about what?’
‘Well, you originally asked me to help you acclimatise, remember?’ ‘Turns out, your son’s taking care of that quite well, as a matter of fact.’
‘You’re only learning about football from Josh.’
‘Oh, you’d be surprised. I’m picking up quite a bit of the culture as well.’
She looked dubious. ‘The only place anything Josh taught you could be of use is in the schoolyard, let me assure you.’
‘You underestimate him.’
Sam considered Hal. She couldn’t deny being a little curious about their relationship. Josh always seemed more animated when he came back from their outings, though as usual, he never said much.
‘What do you two get up to anyway?’ Sam asked.
‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’
‘Come on,’ she cajoled.
He shook his head. ‘It’s secret men’s business.’
‘Hal, he is my son –’
‘Sam, we go to the football, we talk football.’
‘Well, he doesn’t talk to me about anything.’
‘Do you talk about what interests him?’
‘Like what?’
‘Football.’
‘I don’t know anything about football.’
‘There you go.’
She sighed. ‘Well, does he seem alright to you?’
‘He seems fine. He’s a good kid,’ said Hal. ‘He sure loves his football, and I think he gets a kick out of showing off to an old guy like me.’
‘It’s very good of you –’
‘He’s doing me a favour,’ he brushed it off.
Sam had met with Joshua’s year adviser, who had struck her as an understanding person. He’d promised to keep a closer eye on Josh and inform his teachers of the situation at home. And apparently he’d settled down a little at his father’s, according to Jessica. Jeff must have been showing spectacular restraint in the bedroom. Which had never been a problem while they were still together, it occurred to Sam.
Wife for Hire Page 17
