Brown Eyed Girl

Home > Other > Brown Eyed Girl > Page 11
Brown Eyed Girl Page 11

by Lori Leger


  “How long have you been up?” she asked.

  Red propped his guitar against the desk and stood. “Since around three.”

  She nodded. “I was looking for some reading material, but I don’t need it now. Is this what you do when you can’t sleep?”

  He slipped his tee shirt back on. “Among other things.”

  Trying not to show her disappointment that he’d covered his upper torso, Tiffany leaned over his desk. She picked up a tablet covered with lyrics in a masculine handwriting. “Are you writing a song?”

  “I’ve been trying to write one for my mom and dad’s forty-sixth wedding anniversary next month. Two weeks I’ve been working on the damn thing, and that’s as far as I’ve gotten.”

  She read the words silently. “This is pretty good, Red. Who’s composing the music?”

  “I’ve already got the tune down,” he said.

  “Could I hear it, please?”

  He nodded and began strumming a beautiful melody on his guitar then began to sing the words he’d written.

  I was alone once, no hope for love in sight

  Until your love saved me from the lonely night

  My heart stops beating; my world could rip in two

  When I think how close I came to never having you.

  “This is the chorus,” he said.

  A love like ours doesn’t happen every day

  Written in the stars, perfect in every way

  I thank the Lord for the lifeline that he threw

  the day he heard my prayer, and led me straight to you.

  “That’s beautiful,” she told him.

  Red nodded. “Thanks, but I can’t seem to think of anything else. I keep trying to imagine what my dad would say to her, or about her, and it’s like everything is said already. He’s a man of few words.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem. This is not just his story, it’s hers too. You should have a verse from her point of view now and have it sung as a duet.”

  “Did you take song writing in college?” he asked, thoroughly impressed with her reasoning.

  “No, I’m just a romantic at heart. Now that I’ve heard their story, it’s a little more personal for me.” She began to scribble a few more lines then finished it and smiled. He played the music once more and she began to sing:

  I can’t imagine the kind of world this would be

  if your sweet love had never rescued me.

  The man they chose for me – no kind of man at all

  I can’t be happy without your love’s sweet call.

  Red looked at her in amazement. “I can’t believe you just wrote that in under five minutes.”

  Tiffany smiled then pulled up a chair next to him. “You’ve already done the hard part. Now you have them grow old together and it should be sung in harmony.”

  He nodded and began experimenting with a few words. He came up with half of a line and Tiffany finished it for him. They continued to work together until they had the final verse for the song. Putting their heads together, they harmonized the last verse.

  We’re growing older, our lives are now entwined,

  Our hearts so joined, can’t tell what’s yours or mine.

  With lives so rich, so full of laughter and love

  It had to come straight from heaven up above.

  A love like ours doesn’t happen every day

  Written in the stars, perfect in every way

  I thank the Lord for the lifeline that he threw

  For the day he heard my prayer and led me straight to you.

  Thank God he heard our prayer and led me home to you.

  He strummed the last notes and grinned up at her. “Hey Doc, we just co-wrote a song.”

  She smiled. “I believe we did. Think it’s any good?”

  “It’s good enough for Mom and Dad’s anniversary, and I know they’ll love it.”

  Tiffany tapped one long fingernail on the top of Red’s mahogany desk. “You know, it would be wonderful if all of your siblings could have a part in it. Can you write scores for other instruments? You’d need the piano, a fiddle, and the bass guitar. Are there any other musical instruments lurking around in your family?”

  Red took a swig from a glass of water. “That’s about it. Kenneth and Brandon don’t need my help for their parts – they can hear it once and play along just fine. It’s really the piano part I’d have to come up with and I don’t play the piano.”

  Tiffany shook her head. “I can’t help you there, but I bet your sister Annie could come up with something. I know Drake could.”

  Red stood beside her. “But the difficult part is finished. You have no idea how relieved I am to have this done.”

  She pushed her hair back from her face and smiled again. “I’m glad to be of service. It’s the least I can do for you, helping me out the way you did. What time is it, anyway?”

  He checked his watch and grimaced. “Five-fifteen.”

  Tiffany grabbed her head and groaned. “God, it makes me crazy not being able to sleep through the night.”

  Red leaned his guitar against his desk. “I know what you mean. I thought about taking something to sleep, but some of those products have some scary side effects. I’m afraid I’d get up and cook a meal while I’m asleep, or something.”

  Tiffany laughed. “I’m afraid I’d go shopping for the ingredients. With my luck, I’d wake up naked in the middle of the street.”

  “Showing off that yellow rose tattoo of yours,” he added, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

  She grinned, but avoided meeting his gaze. “I keep hoping something will kick in one day, and then I’ll catch up on all the years of sleep I’ve lost.”

  “Maybe it’s the stressful situation with Tanner, and when you’re back in your own place it’ll be better.”

  Tiffany shook her head vigorously. “That’s one thing I can’t blame on Tanner. I’ve been like this since college.”

  “It’s the same with me.The only time I got enough sleep in college was when I was hung over. Jackson thought I drank a lot because I liked beer, but hell, I just needed the sleep.”

  Tiffany giggled and rolled her eyes. “That is the poorest excuse for drinking I’ve ever heard.”

  Red grinned. “You know, you have the greatest laugh, Doc. It sure would be nice to hear it more often.” He reached out to touch her curls. “And I still can’t believe the difference your hair has made.”

  Tiffany fluffed her hair with both hands. “It’ll be nice not to waste an hour straightening my hair every morning.”

  He lifted a finger as though just thinking of something. “Does this mean you’ll be coming to the club opening?”

  “Probably. Will your family be there?”

  Red placed his guitar back in its case. “Some of them. My folks don’t usually do grand openings. They don’t like the crowds.”

  “I can’t even imagine what it must have been like to grow up with parents like yours.”

  Red smiled as though lost in the past. “I knew by the age of seven or so that we had it better than our friends. I’d get home from school and there were warm cookies, or donuts, or something like that waiting for us. What still amazes me is that my parents hardly ever argued. They would disagree about things, don’t get me wrong. Every now and then things would get icy between them for a few days, but they never yelled or called each other names. They compromised.”

  Tiffany stood up and pulled her robe closer to her. “I never heard my parents yell at each other, either. They’d have had to be in the same room to do that. Drake and I were raised by our nanny. Now she would have warm cookies waiting for us when we got home from school. Melinda...we called her Melin for short, was more like a mom to us than our own mother was.”

  “At least ya’ll had someone. Do you ever see her?”

  “No, she moved back up to Washington State after Drake went off to college. Once she got there, she met up with an old flame from high school who was a widower, and the
y got married. His first wife died of cancer and they’d never had children.” Tiffany shook her head slowly. “Melinda couldn’t have kids, either, and it’s so sad because she’s a natural mother. We speak at least once a month and we email back and forth. But, she has her own life now.” She released a long sigh. “There are times I miss her so much.”

  Red stretched, flexing his long back and arms. “The coffee should be ready by now. You want some?”

  “I’d love some.”

  “Actually, since I’ve moved into this place, I’ve started swimming when I can’t sleep. You didn’t happen to bring a swimsuit did you?” he asked with a sparkle in his eyes.

  “That’s not exactly something I thought about when you told me to pack a bag.”

  He grabbed two cups out of the cabinet and poured coffee in each one of them and handed her one.

  She thanked him and took a sip. “That’s good coffee. You know, I won’t know what to do with myself after today. Catch up on some reading, I guess.”

  “Romance novels?” he asked smugly.

  “Medical journals,” she answered. “Have to keep up with the changing times. Today’s new procedure is tomorrow’s old news.”

  “Huh, sounds interesting,” he said, with a grimace.

  “About as interesting to you as the articles in that Forbes magazine looked to me,” she added.

  Red laughed as he sat down across from her. “I guess you’re right. I’m impressed with your medical skills, Doc. You’re young to have the excellent reputation you have.”

  Tiffany sipped her coffee. “I love learning about new procedures in orthopedic surgery. It’s exciting when someone develops a way to change people’s lives for the better. Twenty years ago, Jackson’s leg would have been amputated and fit with a less than perfect prosthesis. Today, he’s walking around fit and healthy because of a device that someone took a chance at developing. It’s fascinating.”

  Red placed his cup on the table. “That’s how I feel about investment opportunities. I love the research involved—studying the demographics of each particular area—knowing what it takes to create a successful business before you open. The kind of club that may work in Lafayette may not work here in Lake Coburn, so adjustments have to be made.”

  Red brought the paper inside and they sipped their coffee while scanning different sections of the paper.

  Tiffany lifted one corner of the curtain to stare out into the darkness of the stark, winter morning. “It sure is dark out there. I don’t think I’ll be running anytime soon,” she said.

  “You sure you don’t want to go for a swim instead of a run?”

  “Not without a suit...my skinny dipping days are over.”

  “You’ve never skinny dipped in your life,” he snorted.

  “I have so,” she shot back.

  “Was that before or after the tattoo?”

  She frowned in concentration. “Both.”

  Red’s mouth fell open. “I’m shocked.”

  “Don’t be, I was alone before the tattoo and with a bunch of girls after the tattoo. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

  Red raised an eyebrow. “A girl orgy? Tell me more.”

  Tiffany laughed. “So you can conjure up an image?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well, sorry to bust your bubble again, but it was a bachelorette party when I was in college and I believe both your sisters were there, too.”

  “Nuh-uh...My sisters would never do anything like that!” he said, grinning at her. “Did they see the tattoo?”

  Tiffany chuckled. “Ask them, if you have the nerve.”

  Red shot her a look over his shoulder on the way to the pool house. “Oh, I’ve got the nerve.”

  Chapter 7

  Lured by the promise of seeing Red in swimming trunks and nothing else, Tiffany’s resistance lasted a full ten minutes before she walked quietly into the warm air of the building. She watched him swim for a minute, appreciating the athleticism of his long, smooth strokes.

  She curled up on a lounge chair with her cup of coffee, and began to flip through the photograph album. She stopped at the photos of him as a toddler, amazed at the resemblance between him and his nephew, Conner. Conner’s hair was a little lighter, but the facial features were so alike it was uncanny. A little bit of McAllister apparently goes a long way.

  She skimmed over the photos, and soon she was ogling the ‘Mr. Universe’ shots of him again. She peeked over the top of the book and closed it. Why admire a photo when she had the real thing in front of her? After moving to a spot where she could observe him, Tiffany discovered that Red moved as gracefully in the water as he did on the dance floor. She watched his upper torso muscles flex as muscular arms sliced through water with graceful precision, while powerful legs propelled him forward.

  He noticed her and treaded water for a few seconds before swimming to the edge to rest his arms on the pool’s ledge.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said, unable to tear her gaze from the bulk of shoulders protruding from the water.

  “It’s too late. I’ve already lost track of my laps.”

  “I’ll go back in the house so you can finish,” she said.

  “Don’t go...I’ve done enough for today.” He pulled himself out of the pool by his powerful arms.

  “I’m impressed, McAllister; you’re not even that winded.”

  He grabbed his towel. “You should’ve seen me two weeks ago. I’ve adjusted.”

  She gazed, entranced, as he dried himself with the towel. “Are you glad you moved here?”

  “Oh yeah,” he said, grinning down at her. “I love it here.”

  Tiffany tore her gaze from the alluring sight of him, and forced herself to walk away. “What about the club in Lafayette? Isn’t it going to be a hassle driving back and forth?”

  “I hired good people to manage it, but I still go every day. When this club opens, I’ll divide my time equally between the two.”

  Tiffany walked leisurely around the room. “Lake Coburn’s half the size of Lafayette. Won’t you miss all that action?”

  Red snorted, “What action? I went to the club then I went home. I spent most of my day stuck in traffic.”

  Tiffany cringed. “I hated driving in Houston. Drake is the only reason I’ll have to go, now.”

  “What kind of law does your brother practice?” he asked.

  “Corporate, but he was telling me he hasn’t been feeling very satisfied with it the last year or so. He says his conscience has been bothering him lately.”

  “What does he do for that to happen?”

  “Nothing illegal, but his firm works mainly for a large corporation that buys out companies, and people sometimes lose their jobs.”

  “Takeovers,” he said.

  “What?”

  “You said his firm ‘buys out’ companies, but in truth, what they probably do is ‘take over’ the company by secretly buying stock when it goes public. Your brother’s a shark.”

  “No, he’s not,” she said defensively.

  “I’m not judging him, Doc. That’s just another name for lawyers. Haven’t you ever heard that old joke “Why don’t sharks bite lawyers?”

  “Apparently not, what’s the punch line?”

  “Professional courtesy.” He chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “It’s a testament to his good character that he’s got a guilty conscience about it.”

  “He said he’s been having trouble sleeping lately…imagine that,” she said.

  “Yeah, imagine that.”

  <>

  Around six-thirty the eastern sky began to show a little pink on the horizon and Tiffany told him she was ready for her run.

  “Are you going to want breakfast when you get back?”

  “It depends, what are you going to feed me?”

  “Oatmeal.” He laughed at the face she made. “Eggs and bacon?”

  “Much better,” she said.

  “Grits and toast?” he asked.
/>   “Grits…instead of toast.”

  “You’re going to make me work, aren’t you?”

  She chuckled. “I’ll help you if you wait until I get back.”

  “Oh, hell, no! You’re the guest here. My mom would skin me alive if she found out I made you do any of the cooking,” Red told her.

  “But I like to cook, and I won’t tell her.”

  “Next time,” he said, hoping like hell there’d be plenty of next times.

  “Okay, I’m going to change into my running gear; I did think to pack that.” They walked back into the house.

  Red changed quickly and went into the kitchen to start preparing breakfast, glancing up as Tiffany walked by wearing her gear...faded jogging pants, an old L.S.U. sweatshirt, and some running shoes. His surprise at her get up must have shown on his face.

  “What?” she asked. “I don’t need to look good to run. I’m about to get all sweaty,” she said.

  He laughed at her. “You won’t sweat, it’s too cold out there.”

  “It’s cool out there, and believe me, I’ll sweat.” She gathered her curls in a pony tail holder.

  “See, when your hair is pulled up away from your face you look like a teenager. That’s why I thought you couldn’t have been a doctor.”

  She adjusted her pony tail, tsking at his comment. “Let it go, Red—I’ve forgiven you.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Go run, smart ass! Get all stinky and sweaty.”

  “I said sweaty, I didn’t say anything about stinky,” she said, making a face at him. “Do you happen to know how far it is to the end of the driveway?”

  “No, but I know it’s a mile and a half to the intersection of highway 101. How far do you usually run?”

  “Three miles, so that’s perfect. By the way, I’ll be famished when I get back,” she said, winking at him on her way out the door.

  Red watched her from the window as she did some serious stretching to warm up. She put her earphones in her ear, checked her watch then began running at a quick pace. He watched her until she got about half way down his driveway before losing sight of her.

 

‹ Prev