by Ana Jolene
It’d also been Maison’s thirtieth birthday. He’d been so surprised when she’d thrown herself at him in front of all her colleagues. Was that why they were all looking at him? Because they suspected something was going on between them?
If only he were so lucky. Maison was way too good a person for him. But that day had really spurred on his fantasies about her. He wanted to see her smile again, to hold her in his arms and breathe in her glorious scent. To do that, he had to charm his way into her heart. He pinned her with a wide smile. “Now that he’s gone, why don’t you tell me what you really think about him?”
Maison blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
“There must be some things you hate about my dad. And don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.”
Instead of smiling like he hoped, Maison lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “What’s there to complain about? He’s a great boss.”
Okay, so maybe this would be tougher than he thought. He straightened in his chair. “I’m sorry, I think I misheard you. Did you just say you think he’s great?”
“I did. Why is that so hard to believe?”
He pointed at the closed door Matthew was behind. “Are we talking about the same person here?”
Her lips twitched but he didn’t consider that a smile. “He’s not as terrible as you make him out to be.”
“Oh, really?” He found that hard to believe. “Tell me one thing that makes him a good boss.”
Maison’s response was automatic. “He makes great donations to charities.”
Hutch rolled his eyes. “Please. Everyone donates nowadays. Give me something else.”
“Well, I guess in being his son, you probably don’t see him the way I do. But trust me, there are worse people out there.”
“You mean like Hitler?”
“Hutch!”
His laughter had other people stopping and staring at them and they smiled when he grinned at them. Only Maison had yet to smile. “He’s probably worse than that, huh?”
“No!” Maison covered her mouth and giggled behind her hand. When she pulled her hand away, he was hit with the brilliance of her beautiful smile.
Ah, there it was. Exquisite.
Maison grinned even wider. “God, why am I even having this conversation with you?”
“Sorry.” But he really wasn’t. He loved making Maison laugh. And would do it again and again just to see her pretty smile. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re still hanging around here. You’re clearly better than this place.”
And better than him.
“I like it here.” Her eyes glittered with her words. “The pay is amazing and I really feel like I have a purpose here. I’d be a fool to leave here after all these years.”
True. She worked harder than any other person he knew. Maybe even more than his father. He just hoped that he hadn’t messed up their friendship by pawing all over her while he’d been drunk. He’d apologized once, but he wanted to make sure again. “Hey, Maison,” he said, searching for her eyes.
“Hmm?” She was facing her computer screen again and when he didn’t say anything, she was forced to look at him. “I just want to make sure we’re okay.”
A frown appeared. “What do you mean?”
“I mean about the other night. I’m really sorry for—”
“Hutch, I already told you it’s fine. I was just concerned for you, that’s all. So as long as you’re all right, I’m okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“Maybe you should just take it easy next time. Don’t drink so much.”
Now it was his turn to flush. “Right. Yeah. I’ll take better care.” Truth was, he liked that she cared about him. It made him feel that little bit less lonely inside.
“It’s almost time to go home. Why don’t you pack up?”
That snapped him out of his thoughts. “Oh. I didn’t realize it was that late already.” While the minutes had dragged by earlier, now Hutch realized that he didn’t want to leave. “Do you need a ride home?”
“No, thanks. I’ve got my own car.”
“So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Have a good night.”
He turned to gather his things when she called out, “Hey, don’t forget. We’ve got an early morning meeting tomorrow. I need you to be there early.”
“A meeting? Oh sure, no problem. I’ll be there.”
“Okay, thanks. Have a good night.” Maison smiled at him again and Hutch felt his chest tighten.
As he grabbed his things and turned to leave, he couldn’t help one last glance back at her. To his surprise, Maison was in the midst of pulling a pair of sneakers out of her bag. Now why would Maison need to keep a pair of sneakers in her bag? Where was she going?
He watched her leave, wondering about her next destination before he headed home himself.
SIX
Maison arrived early at the Ferlito-Joneses’ household. Funny, she never thought she’d find herself walking towards the house of a convicted felon, but here she was.
Taking a deep breath, Maison slicked down the front of her blouse and pressed the doorbell. A moment later, an older woman with graying hair answered the door. “Hi, Mrs. Ferlito,” she greeted.
“Ah, Maison, you’re here! Come on in.” Despite her anxiety, she smiled. This was the first time she’d come to Rissa’s house to meet her. Rissa was a young teenager living with her mother and grandmother. And for the last two months, she was Maison’s Little Sister.
Maison had joined the Big Sisters program because she wanted to do something good for her community. Work had been the center of her life for so long that she wanted something more to look forward to after work hours. Joining a program such as this one was a great way to give back to the community while also keeping her from feeling so lonely when she wasn’t working. So here she was again, trying to do some good for a family who needed it. The only problem was, Maison got the feeling that Rissa didn’t like her.
Well, she actually wasn’t sure if that was really the case, but Rissa was having some trouble opening up to her and Maison wondered if it was because something was happening at home.
That was why she was here now. She wanted to check in on her family and see what was happening behind closed doors.
Rissa’s grandmother called for the teen, and a second later, Maison heard her running footsteps above her. “She’ll be down in a minute,” Mrs. Ferlito said. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Oh no, thanks. I’m fine.” As the older woman headed for the kitchen, Maison took that opportunity to explore the house. She knew from Rissa that her family liked to move a lot so Rissa was never in a single school for long. She wondered how that affected her grades and her social life. It must be hard to constantly be the new girl at school.
After Rissa’s father had been incarcerated, her mother seemed to have given up on raising her, which was why her grandmother was the one who was constantly around. Their family income had dropped as well, as it usually did when a parent was incarcerated. Rissa had even told her that she’d visited her father at three different prisons already. So there was no doubt that Rissa Ferlito-Jones was living a tough childhood, but Maison didn’t want to accept that this was always how it was going to be for her.
“Hi, Maison.”
Maison spun around to find her Little Sister standing at the bottom of the stairs. Tall for a fifteen-year-old, Rissa already stood at five nine. Since her father was African-American and her mother was Hispanic, Rissa was an exotic blend of the two. She had a smooth, warm complexion that Maison would never be able to get no matter how many hours she stayed in the sun. Not to mention that Rissa had an abundance of natural curls that she usually needed tools to create in her own hair. Maison smiled at her. “Hey, Rissa. Are you ready to go?” They’d planned to watch a movie tonight of a popular Young Adult series.
“Yeah.” Rissa hopped down the last step. “Let me just tell my grandma
I’m leaving.”
“Sure. Is your mom around?” Maison knew it was unlikely, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Rissa pinned her with a look that said what do you think? “Guess not,” she mumbled as the girl disappeared into the kitchen.
Maison tried not to feel so glum. Why wasn’t Rissa’s mother around more? Fifteen was a very vulnerable time and Rissa would likely need her mother’s guidance. Well, at least she had her grandmother to turn to if she needed help. And she would do her best to be there for her too.
When Rissa and her grandmother returned, Maison smiled brightly for the both of them. “I hope you two have fun tonight.”
“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Ferlito.”
The older woman made a face. “Please call me Aba.”
“Aba.” Maison grinned. “Okay, Aba. We won’t be long. We’re just going to catch a movie, okay?”
“Sounds great. Have fun, girls!”
“Bye, Aba!” Rissa chimed.
“Bye!”
“So how have you been doing?” Maison asked once they were alone. She was hoping that Rissa would open up to her tonight.
“I’m okay,” the teen answered.
She waited to see if she’d say anything more. But when it was clear that Rissa had nothing to add, Maison frowned.
She couldn’t deny that there was a major age difference between them. There were also the cultural differences to consider as well. But Maison wasn’t about to give up yet.
A lot of people had given up on Rissa already. Her father, her mother . . . Only her grandmother seemed like she was interested in the teen’s well-being. So no, Maison wasn’t going to turn away just because she was having some difficulty getting through to her. She believed she would in time. She just had to be patient. And sooner or later, Rissa would trust her enough to open up to her.
Hutch expected to find Sam outside gardening again when he pulled up to her house, but he was only faced with the beautiful blooming flowers and tree that they’d planted together the other day.
With his first day at Gleam finished, he wanted to come and tell Sam about it. However, he hadn’t considered that she might still be out working. Private investigators tended to have different work hours than at the office.
Pulling out his phone, he quickly called her. When the phone rang but no one answered, Hutch got out of the car and walked over to the flowers. He was surprised to see that they hadn’t died. He didn’t have a green thumb and usually anything he planted died within a few days. Luckily, Sam was taking good care of them.
As he passed by the large window in the front of the house, he frowned. He could hear something from within. Was that Sam’s cell phone ringing? Maybe she was home already and was taking a nap.
He hung up and called her again, listening for the ringing inside the house. When the shrill sound echoed from inside, Hutch made his way to the front door. He banged on it once. “Yo, Sam, it’s me. Open up!” He knew Sam kept odd hours so it was entirely likely that she’d stayed up all night again working on a case and still hadn’t gotten out of bed yet. When the door cracked open slightly, Hutch peered in. “You okay?” He found Sam standing there, wearing a tight tank top and a pair of boxer shorts. She held her phone in one hand and was rubbing at her sleepy eyes with the other. “Did you just get out of bed?”
“No . . . Maybe.” They both moved for the living room where Sam flopped back onto the couch and covered her legs with a throw blanket.
Hutch had seen her naked plenty of times before, but unlike with other women, seeing her skin didn’t rile him up. While he was a typical hot-blooded male, his relationship with Sam wasn’t like that at all. They’d always been strictly friends. Plus, he knew too much about Sam to ever see her as anything other than a good friend, or at most, a sister.
Easing back, Hutch let out a sigh and started to loosen a couple of the top buttons of his dress shirt. He still wasn’t sure about the office dress code. He’d much rather spend his days in his band T-shirts and sneakers. “So how did work go?” Sam asked.
Hutch shrugged and reached for the remote. “It wasn’t too bad actually.” He’d enjoyed spending the day with Maison even if she refused to have lunch with him. And while the work hours could be a little grueling at times, he could actually see himself having a good time as long as Maison was around.
“Wow, I’m surprised. I thought you’d want to quit.”
“I can’t quit.” He’d only just started. Plus, if he wanted no complaints from his father when he moved out, then he’d have to endure longer than a day. “I’ll admit, the hours suck but at least I don’t actually have to work under my dad.”
“Wait. What do you mean? He owns Gleam, so technically you do too.”
“Yeah, but he’s assigned me to be Maison’s assistant.”
“Maison? Your father’s assistant?”
“Yup. I’m an assistant for an assistant.”
Sam laughed. “Well that’s something.”
Hutch cut a glance at her. “What’s that’s supposed to mean?”
Sam shook her head. “Nothing. I guess that means you’ll be spending a lot of time with Maison then.”
Yeah, he would be. He was excited about it.
Sam laughed and shook her head. “Poor girl. She has no idea what she’s gotten herself into.”
“Hey!” he protested.
Sam smirked at him and got up to walk into the kitchen. He could hear her rummaging through the fridge for food. Pulling out a microwavable meal, she ripped off the cover and shoved it in the microwave. As she waited for it to heat up, she turned back to him, smiling as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Seeing her this way, Hutch couldn’t help but compare her to Maison. The two were polar opposites. He couldn’t see them ever being friends, not even in an alternate world. They were just too different in personality. While Maison was shy and sweet, Sam liked to kill her food before she ate it.
Still, Hutch knew the tough girl had her own vulnerabilities. As a private investigator, most people came to Sam with their problems, expecting her to do some research and hash it out. Nine times out of ten Sam prevailed, but there’d been a few instances where Sam almost hadn’t made it.
Hutch would never admit it to her but he worried about her. She didn’t have a solid relationship with her family, and instead of staying with them, she had opted for living alone here. While he knew that Sam was capable of handling herself, Hutch still didn’t like that she lived here alone. That was why he came here so often. He wanted to check on her and make sure she was okay. Plus, there was no other person in the world who he could relate to better than Sam. Instead of seeing him as less of a man because of his missing leg, she envied him because he got the opportunity to do something that she was never able to do herself.
“Stop staring at me, you perv.”
He grinned at her tone. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not my type.”
“Oh, so smart, independent women don’t get you hot? I wonder what does then.”
Actually, they did. But instead of the skinny women he’d used to date forming in his mind, there was only one buxom blonde that took center stage in Hutch’s mind.
Maison.
SEVEN
“He’s late!” Maison gritted her teeth at the frustration she felt. “I already told him not to be late!” She checked her watch again, hoping that by some miracle Hutch would appear before her. But nope. He wasn’t in front of her when she looked back up.
Matthew sat on her right side, silently sipping his coffee. “Did you remind him to come yesterday?” he asked.
Maison stiffened. “Of course I did.” She never would’ve forgotten that. She’d reminded him right before he’d left for the day.
“Well, he didn’t come home last night,” Matthew informed her.
“What?” She swung on her boss. He hadn’t? Then where the hell had he gone?
Matthew shook his head. “I should’ve expected him to do something like this.” Annoyance and disappo
intment laced his tone. “But there’s no time.” He rose, moving to the front of the room. “We have to start the meeting.”
Maison could only purse her lips together. “Dammit, Hutch!” she muttered. She’d been counting on him to be here. That had been his job, right? To help her? Had she been so impressed by his work yesterday that she’d been too lenient on him? She hadn’t bothered to send him a formal memo about the meeting, so maybe this was her fault.
Silence spread over the room before Matthew started speaking. “Good morning, everyone . . .”
Maison glanced back at the door but Hutch was still nowhere to be seen. Swallowing her annoyance, she focused her attention on Matthew at the front of the room.
After over an hour of taking notes, her hand ached. Normally she used a laptop to take her notes, but she’d actually been counting on Hutch to bring his and be the one doing it.
Thank goodness the meeting was now over. She could at least rest her hand for a bit. But she knew she would eventually have to type up the report all over again. Great. More work to add to her already mile-long to-do list.
So much for trusting the guy to keep his word. Just because Hutch had done one good thing for her, she’d allowed herself to believe that she could count on him. Big mistake. Maybe she’d been right all long. Maybe she couldn’t count on anyone to do things for her.
With his absence though, she could at least focus on her work without any distraction. Having him around yesterday had totally knocked her off-kilter. Although Matthew had apologized about dumping his son onto her like that, Maison believed the root of her trouble wasn’t that she wasn’t prepared for his appearance but because being around Hutch made her nervous.
For as long as she’d been working for Matthew Hewitt, she’d always kept a respectable distance from the rest of his family. She was still friendly with them but things had started to change when Matthew’s wife, Camilla, had died. Now she was spending more time with Matthew because he began working longer hours and would sometimes take his work home with him.
Maison had spent countless evenings in their living room pouring over their latest work, and when Hunter and Hutch had begun living with Matthew again, she’d started seeing a lot more of them too.
