by Bria Marche
Forty-five minutes and two glasses of water later, Abby was on the phone with Brandon.
“Hey, Abby, it’s good to hear your voice again. Did I pass your stringent background check?”
“Did you have any doubt?” She chuckled and relaxed in the leather chair with her bare feet resting on the desk.
“Not really. As an attorney, I can’t be too irresponsible, as you put it. I do have an image to uphold.”
“Thanks. I bet I won’t live that comment down. Anyway, when do you want to check out the digs? That is, if you want to go ahead with the lease.”
“Would this afternoon work? I’m just hanging out at the hotel pool… nothing too exciting going on here anyway. I start my new job next Monday, so getting moved in would really help. I won’t have to live out of a suitcase. I don’t have a ton of things to move since my apartment in Chicago was a corporate-furnished bachelor pad.” He laughed again and joked about the parties that had gone on in that apartment.
“Okay, let’s plan for two o’clock. See you then.” Abby gave him the address and hung up. Today, Erik is going to meet Brandon. I’ll have two completely different guys—both hotter than heck and with far too much testosterone—living in the same house. This is going to be interesting.
At one thirty, Erik headed out the front door. A small notepad was jammed in the back pocket of his nicely fitting worn jeans, and a pencil rested above his left ear.
“Hey, where are you going?”
Erik turned to see Abby sitting on the veranda, the latest romance novel propped on her lap and a pair of aqua readers with rhinestone accents hanging from the bridge of her nose. Her flawless tanned legs rested on the chair across from her, and a glass of chilled white wine was on the table.
“Well, don’t you look comfortable? It appears you have everything you need within arm’s reach. A glass of wine and a steamy book… what more could a young lady such as yourself ever need?”
“I’ll let you know when the time is right. Would you like a glass of wine? I’ll even read to you.” Her eyes twinkled as she stared at him.
“Yeah… I’ll pass. These days, I read more DIY magazines than anything else.”
“Where are you off to?”
“I’m heading to the nearest lumberyard to buy the wood. I’m starting the pergola in the morning. Do you want to take a look at the design?”
“I sure do.” Abby put the book down, placing a bookmark between the pages she had just finished reading. She sat up, removed her glasses, and offered Erik the chair her feet were on.
He pulled the notepad from his pocket before sitting. “Here you go. What do you think?” He opened to the page that had a pencil drawing and a lot of measurements next to each post and plank. The drawing showed the pergola spanning the width of the current patio and several feet beyond, going forward into the yard. “I’ll put large posts at each end on the yard side and cover them in the same Italianate style as the house so nothing looks new and modern. I assume the owners would want everything to match in color, right?”
“They definitely would. This looks wonderful. You really have an eye for this stuff.”
“Well, I’m just a carpenter, a do-it-yourselfer and a handyman, but it pays the bills.”
“Why are you cutting yourself down? You’re a skilled tradesman. There’s no shame in that. You have an artistic nature and an eye for beautiful things. You and Adam should get together and create yard art. You know he’s Scandinavian, too, right? You guys already have something in common.”
Abby was taken aback when Erik leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. “You’re a wonderful woman. Now I better get going before they run out of lumber.”
“You’re a funny guy, Erik Christiansen.”
He looked back when he latched the gate and called out, “And you’re beautiful, Abby Taylor.”
She stared at him as he ran down the street toward his van. A quick check of the time told her it was almost two o’clock. She craned her neck to look down South Battery and noticed a car waiting for the parking spot Erik was pulling out of. Brandon pulled in and parked as soon as Erik left. That was close, she thought, as she saw him get out and start walking up the street. I hope he doesn’t stay long. Erik is in such a good mood today, I’d hate to ruin that for him.
Abby introduced Brandon to everyone that was in the house, which was all of two people. Betsy and Adam were sitting at the kitchen table playing cribbage, and everyone else was either at work, buying lumber, or at summer school.
“Brandon, this is Betsy, our chef and my second in command, and Adam, a very talented local artist. Betsy and Adam, this is Brandon Luck, a recent transplant from Chicago and an attorney. He will be the last tenant moving into the Melrose Mansion. I believe he’s moving in over the weekend. Isn’t that right, Brandon?”
“Yes, you’re absolutely correct. So how about that tour?” he asked cheerfully.
“Of course. Let’s start upstairs and work our way down.”
At the top of the stairs on the second floor, they turned right. The last available room was at the far end of the hallway. “Well, this is it,” Abby said as she unlocked the door and allowed Brandon to pass through. “Actually, other than the location of the rooms, they’re all pretty similar in size and decor. The bathroom is attached and pretty large.”
He walked through the room, admiring the antique furnishings. He sat on the bed and bounced up and down a few times.
“What are you doing?” she asked, surprised by his actions.
“Just checking how noisy the bed is, being an antique and all.”
“And that matters why?” With her hands on her hips, Abby cocked her head to the right.
“I don’t know. I guess a man has to be aware of things like that. I have to be considerate of the other housemates, right?” He grinned at Abby as he patted the bed and indicated for her to sit down.
“Not on your life, mister.” She chuckled. “Come on. Let me show you the common areas.”
“That sounds dull. My idea is far more interesting.”
“Well, it sucks for you right now. Let’s go.”
After spending a half hour downstairs and in the back garden with Brandon, Abby was becoming fidgety. She was ready for him to leave. “I have a ton of things to do, so I’ll see you Saturday, okay?”
“Oh, sure, I guess. Thanks for the tour. The place is really nice. See you Saturday.”
She walked to the gate with Brandon and latched it behind him. He was only thirty feet down the sidewalk when Abby saw Erik approaching slowly in his van. He looked long and hard at Brandon, then he appeared to notice Abby standing at the gate. He turned into the driveway and parked, exited the van, and began to unload the lumber he had just purchased. “Hey, Abby, so that’s the newest tenant, huh?” he asked. His eyes squinted toward the end of the street as he watched Brandon climb into a late model BMW sedan and drive away.
“Yeah, no biggie. So you got all the lumber before they ran out, huh?” She tried to make light of an awkward situation by changing the subject altogether. “Can I help you carry the boards around the house?”
“What? Oh, no thanks, I don’t want you to get any splinters in your arms.”
“Nonsense, I’m not a wimp. I’m helping anyway.”
“Okay, suit yourself.”
They unloaded the van and stacked all the boards on the sidewalk in the backyard. Abby hoped the subject of Brandon was dead for the time being.
“So who is he, and when is he moving in?” Erik asked.
“Seriously? He’s just a guy, a tenant like everyone else.”
“Ouch… I’ve been reduced to just a tenant.” He smiled, obviously teasing her. “You didn’t go out to dinner with me the first day we met.”
“I might have if you would have asked,” she responded with a tiny grin on her face.
“Touché. I guess I deserved that. Okay, muscles, we’ve got more stuff to unload.” Erik took her by the hand as they walked bac
k to the van.
Chapter Sixteen
Abby picked up on the third ring. Attorney Lewis had finally taken it upon himself to return her call.
“Hello, Melrose Mansion, Abby Taylor speaking.”
“Abigail? It’s Attorney Lewis. Why are you calling yourself Abby Taylor, and why are you answering the phone the way you did?”
“Hello to you, too,” she responded in a snarky voice. “Are you really wondering why I changed my last name after the crap my husband and mom pulled? I don’t want to be associated with either of them anymore. I’ve created my own identity, and to be honest, I like it a lot. And I answered the phone the way I did because I’ve been reduced to renting out half my home, you know, for income. I thought you were going to pursue a wrongful death lawsuit for me.”
“I am, dear. That’s why I’m calling. I’ve already sent the paperwork to City Waste and Recycling saying we’re filing a suit against them, or their insurance company, for the untimely death of your dearly departed mother.”
“Cut the crap, Mr. Lewis. You were supposed to have those papers sent out a month ago. Instead, you took a personal leave of absence and left me to figure out what to do for income. And as far as my mother, she was nothing more than a paycheck to you. Is there actually something you want?”
“Well, yes, there is. I need a deposit from you for the lawsuit I filed on your behalf. I also need you to sign the legal documents stating that you’re now in charge of the ongoing account your mother started so many wonderful years ago.”
“How much money do you need from me right now?” Abby asked, becoming more irate as the minutes ticked by.
“Two thousand dollars should suffice for now.”
“I don’t have two thousand dollars to give you. Since you disappeared for a month at my expense to have liposuction—yes, Adrianne told me—I’ll give you a thousand dollars. You’ll get your cut anyway if we win the lawsuit. I’ll be there in an hour with the money. Is there anything else you want?”
“I believe that’s all for now, Abigail. I may have to amend the suit since you changed your legal name.”
“I don’t believe that’s necessary, and I don’t have time for your shenanigans. There is plenty of documentation to prove who I am. I’ll be there shortly.”
Abby slammed the phone down and stomped into the kitchen. She sat at the table and stewed.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Erik said as he leaned against the doorframe between the patio and the kitchen.
Abby jumped, not realizing he was there. “You startled me. Sorry, I’m just in a lousy mood. Actually, it’s more of an angry mood.” She stared at him standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a pair of work jeans. His rock-hard abs glistened with beads of sweat from the hours of labor he had already performed.
“Is there anything I can do to put you in a better state of mind?” He gave her that sexy grin that made her heart pound and her knees wobble.
Abby laughed and got up to pour two iced teas. “I guess you just did. Thanks. It worked. Sit down and take a break with me.” I need a minute to get my pulse back to normal.
“I have a better idea. Come outside and tell me what you think of the pergola so far.” Erik took both glasses of tea and walked ahead of her. “Watch your step. It’s a mess out here.”
She followed him closely, stepping over boards, posts, nail guns, and saws. Finally, once they were both standing in the middle of the yard and looking back toward the house, Abby could see the vision Erik had drawn on paper last week. She gasped with excitement because her garden would soon have the vibe she loved at Eliza’s Secret Garden.
“It’s gorgeous. You’re so talented.”
“Well, with some more bushes and garden art, I think we can turn this backyard into Melrose’s Secret Garden. So you like it?”
“I love it, and…” She caught herself before she said more. The words were on the tip of her tongue. “Anyway, I have to run out for an hour or so. The cab should be here soon. I just have to clean up a bit.”
“You should have said something, Abby. I could have given you a lift, unless it’s a lunch date.” He gave her a wink as he wiped his brow.
“It isn’t a lunch date. Far from it, actually. See you later.”
She entered the Georgian brick building on Calhoun Street, took the stairs to the second floor, and opened the double mahogany doors leading to Lewis Law Office. Adrianne sat behind the counter, scowling at Abby when she saw her.
“What?” Abby said without remorse.
“I just got chewed out by Attorney Lewis. Thanks, Abby, for shooting your mouth off.”
“Well… you know what they say about loose lips.”
“Actually, I don’t,” Adrianne said, pouting.
“That’s apparent.”
“Abigail, come in please. Adrianne, hold my calls for thirty minutes, no exceptions.”
Abby followed Attorney Lewis into his office, quickly noticing his weight loss. She had to bite her lip from blurting out something hurtful, but that was the kind of mood she was in.
“Sit down. These documents have to be signed and dated.” He handed her a dozen sheets of paper to sign.
“What name should I use to sign them?”
“Unless you want me to have new documents drafted, you’ll have to sign them as Abigail Melrose, the way they’re drawn up. Your signature has to match the typed name below it.”
“Fine. May I read them first?”
He glanced at his watch and huffed, shuffling in his oversized office chair. “Go ahead, but I do have another appointment in thirty minutes.”
“I’m a quick reader,” she huffed back. “What’s the protocol for the lawsuit anyway?” She scanned the documents and signed each one at the bottom.
“I’ve already informed City Waste and Recycling that there’s a wrongful death suit being filed against them. They hand everything off to their insurance company, which either has its own lawyers in-house or has a law firm on retainer. We’ll likely hear directly from the insurance company after they go over the suit with their attorneys. That’s when you get a payout, we fold, or we fight back.”
“Great. There’s more money going out and no guarantees of any coming in.” She sighed and slid the documents back across the desk, all signed and dated.
“Welcome to the world of legal haggling. Now all I need to do is collect the thousand dollars, and you can be on your way.”
Abby reached in her purse and pulled out the check, sliding that across his desk, too. “Right. We don’t want to forget the most important reason I’m here, do we?”
He stood and escorted her to the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
“You better be,” she replied without looking back.
***
Saturday morning, Abby woke with her stomach doing flip-flops. Brandon was moving in today. Maybe I can get him to focus on Melanie. He hasn’t met her yet, and she is quite the beauty. She’s fun, too, and would probably love to go out with a hunk like him. That’s it. She can take one for the team. Abby took a quick shower and rushed down the third-floor staircase. The smell of bacon wafting up to the second floor was heavenly, causing everyone to make their way to the kitchen for breakfast. Abby loved mealtime. Everyone shared stories, both good and bad, happy and sad. Laughter usually rang out among the eight of them, all friends already and without any animosity between them. That might change. Abby needed to pull Mel aside after breakfast and have a talk with her.
“So what does everyone think of the pergola going up over the patio?” Abby asked, starting the morning conversation.
“It’s gorgeous!” Lisa said, the first to speak up.
“I’ll go along with that. Do you need any garden art? I can probably find something in my studio to bring over.”
“I couldn’t possibly ask you to set something up in the yard that you could be selling, Adam, but thank you for offering,” Abby said.
“You didn’t ask, and I have plenty of seconds that
I can’t sell, but they’d look pretty rad in the backyard.”
“Seriously, you’d do that?”
“Sure, no problem. I’ll bring something over this afternoon. I might need your help, Erik, if you don’t mind. Some of those cement statues I make are pretty heavy. You’d be doing me a favor, Abby. I really could use the extra space in my studio.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your generosity. Now I’m excited to see what you’ll bring. Will someone pass the bacon, please?”
Abby asked Melanie to join her on the veranda after breakfast. Abby carried out a small carafe of coffee and two cups.
“What’s up, and why are we sneaking away?” Melanie asked, waiting for some juicy gossip to cross Abby’s lips. She got comfy on the floral-cushioned chair, twisting her feet up under her body like a pretzel. She pulled the cup of coffee close to her on the table so she wouldn’t have to rearrange her position to reach it.
“Brandon is moving in today, and it’s making me nervous. He’s hot, and I mean really hot.”
“Okay, I like what I’m hearing. So far, so good. What’s the problem?” Mel blew on her coffee and took a sip.
“Up to this point, the house has settled into a nice routine with everyone getting along. Charles even takes out the garbage on Friday mornings, for Pete’s sake. How sweet is that? The problem is having two hot guys in one house.”
“Not in my book. I don’t get it. What are you really saying?”
“I’m saying there’s going to be tension in the house, and that’s the last thing I want. I don’t need another vacant room because Erik and Brandon can’t get along.”