by Annie Seaton
“I’ve got less than a year, Ana.” Her mother’s words were still imprinted on her mind.
My mother, my beautiful mother. Nothing else mattered in that moment.
She’d jumped out of bed, tucked Blake’s sheet around her, and stumbled into her room. She’d picked up her clothes from the floor and the closet and jammed them into her suitcase. There was no room for her books so she’d left them on the desk. Within an hour, she’d thrown the sheet off, showered, and called a taxi to get her to the bus station. At a loss for words, she hadn’t even left him a note.
After her mother had passed, she had briefly considered going back to college, but by that time, she and the twins had started up their restoration business. She knew Blake had moved to New York to take a position in one of the top firms on Wall Street and she was determined to forget about him. He would have moved on in his own life, and she had too. All she hoped was that he occasionally thought back fondly to that night with a roommate from college. She’d had several short relationships over the years, but none of them had stayed in her heart like Blake. Before that night, she realized now, all of their teasing and arguments had been part of the deep attraction they had felt but not admitted to each other.
And now here she was, in her best friend’s sports car dressed in a borrowed business suit and a pair of borrowed Jimmy Choos, a designer bag tucked beneath her arm, her stomach churning, and about to see Blake again, to convince him not to close down their little business as part of the takeover of the Nebbiton hardware store by the national corporation he represented. Already she was regretting coming. She was nowhere near prepared for a business meeting and she had a feeling that no amount of sweet-talking would change his mind.
“Shoot.” Water gushed into her shoe as she stepped out of the car straight into an icy cold puddle from an overflowing drain. Sienna would kill her. “Focus,” she muttered to herself, bending to remove the ruined footwear. “One wet shoe is the least of my worries.” It wasn’t just the thought of her friends losing their jobs that was making her feel ill.
Pull yourself together. It was just a college crush. Just one night.
They were so different, it never would have worked out anyway, even if Mom hadn’t gotten sick.
She tucked Sienna’s shoes under her arm, swallowed, and pushed open the gate.
…
Blake Buchanan checked his e-mail from the study of his family home, annoyed that his appointment was late. Not that he had an actual appointment time to wait on. His new secretary had called earlier and said that the guy in charge of the restoration department had made an appointment for after three o’clock. He really had to do something about her. As well as being vague about the actual time of the appointment, she had said she didn’t know the guy’s name either. If there was one thing Blake hated, it was inefficiency. He’d be replacing her first thing next week.
He was more than ready to call it quits for the day. It had been a long week full of meetings with suppliers and Skyping with Mike Montgomery, the owner of Home and Hardware. All he had to do now was get this appointment out of the way and then he intended to pour a red wine from the well-stocked cellar. He was looking forward to shedding his business suit and getting into a comfortable pair of jeans. This meeting was a waste of his time anyway. He had already decided that whole department would go in the takeover. There was no place for nonexistent profit margins in the new financial model. Blake had been chief executive officer at Home and Hardware for the past three years, and shedding personnel was just another part of the job to him. Nothing to lose any sleep over.
He’d requested the transfer to the West Coast when Mike had indicated an interest in taking the Nebbiton store under the Home and Hardware franchise. Once talks were under way and contracts prepared, Blake had moved home. Returning to San Francisco meant being close to family—even though there was only his sister, Jeannie, her husband, Rod, and their tribe of kids left, he was determined to settle back into the family home he’d inherited. And he was going to enjoy life in the city where he’d grown up. He’d had the house refurbished recently, and now he looked around it with pleasure. The freshly painted walls and the polished timber floor gave no hint of the chaos of the college years when the house had overflowed with students and all the paraphernalia of their lives. It was such a contrast to the way they lived back then.
He couldn’t help but think of Anastasia Delaney when he thought about those college years. She’d been the only girl in the house and the most disorganized person he had ever met. She’d driven him crazy with the chaos that she’d created and her idealistic economic views. Or so he had pretended. He’d taken every opportunity to tease her and bait her about her philosophies, just to see the animation in her face when she’d argued with him.
What a beauty she’d been, blond and lithe. And her carefree spirit and her joyful approach to life had brought the house alive. He’d watched from afar as she’d gone out with the other guys and envied the fun they had together. Until that night she’d locked him out and they ended up in his bed. It had taken him a long time to put aside the crushing disappointment he’d felt when he finally realized she’d left.
On the way back from class that morning, he’d bought a huge bunch of brightly colored flowers, and anticipation had filled him as he’d opened the door. But his bed had been empty and at first he’d assumed she’d been called in to her part-time job at the coffee shop. Finally, after waiting for hours, he’d checked her room, and he still remembered the hollow ache in his gut as he’d looked at the empty closet. The white sheet from his bed had been draped across her desk and he’d picked it up and inhaled her unique fragrance. Now the smell of patchouli oil always gave him a pang of regret.
When she didn’t get in touch with him, the anger kicked in. She’d been toying with him and was obviously as loose with her relationships as she was in the rest of her life. Everyone in their house lost touch with her from that day, and she’d never come back for her books. They were still down in a box in the basement with a few other things she’d left scattered around the house.
But she’d stayed firmly fixed in his mind until he left for his job in New York. He couldn’t understand why she’d dropped out of college so suddenly, and he’d often wondered if she’d finished her degree somewhere else. And he couldn’t let go of that niggling guilt that sleeping with him had caused her to flee. It hadn’t made sense because she’d murmured sleepily for him to hurry back when he’d had to leave for his early class. And he thought she had enjoyed the night of gentle passion as much as he had.
He hadn’t thought about her for a long time.
She’s probably married and still lurching from one disaster to another. Maybe he could look her up now that he was home. Being able to do the corporate work he loved and live back home was a perfect combination. His work was his life but it wouldn’t hurt to have a little bit of down time now he was here. As soon as this last appointment was over, he would make a start on his weekend. He wasn’t used to taking time off, and he wasn’t quite sure how he’d start.
That’s if this guy ever arrives. Blake glanced down at his watch in annoyance, and then he stood and moved across to the window as the sound of a car engine reached him.
About time.
A red BMW Z3 was parked across the road. A firm derriere and long legs with shapely calves were visible as a woman in a red suit bent down beside the car and removed her shoes. His heartbeat kicked up a notch as a cascade of silvery-blond hair swung forward hiding her face from his view. For a fleeting moment, the sight took him back ten years. The unusual silver-colored hair reminded him of Anastasia. It certainly wasn’t her, because she’d hated all the trappings of wealth. Fancy cars, exclusive addresses, and what she’d called “unnecessary luxury goods” provided the catalyst for some of their more interesting—and fiery—debates. She’d always go on about giving back to those who didn’t have as much, and helping those who were unable to help themselves. He shook his he
ad, wondering what she’d done with her life and if reality had helped her outgrow her naive beliefs. He’d never been able to agree with her soft approach.
If you wanted something, you worked for it. It was as simple as that.
He dropped the curtain, irritated with the direction of his thoughts, and picked up his newspaper. Anastasia was in the past, and now he would give this guy five more minutes before he missed his chance to make whatever argument he was going to use to try to convince Blake to keep the restoration department.
Just as he became engrossed in the front page, the doorbell rang. Blake stood, folded the newspaper, and placed it neatly on his desk.
Straightening his tie, he moved across to the door and glanced through the window. The BMW was still across the street but the Anastasia lookalike had disappeared. Schooling his face to reflect a conservative businessman, he opened the door. It was like a punch in the stomach and he struggled to catch his breath as the fragrance of patchouli oil drifted across from the silver-headed woman standing on the front porch.
“Hello, Blake?” The sweet voice reminded him he was staring and he gathered himself together as she reached out to grip his arm. “Blake?”
Chapter Two
“Anastasia?” Blake stared at her, taking in the red business suit and the designer bag tucked beneath her arm. It was a more sophisticated look than the flowing skirts and jangling bracelets of the college girl he knew, but she was still drop-dead gorgeous and his heart rate kicked up a notch. The hippie perfume of the roommate days wafted around him, at odds with the classy outfit. His stomach lurched as the familiar fragrance took him straight back to those days
“What…when…how did you know I had moved back to town? My God. What are you doing here? It must be ten years—”
“Yes, it’s been ten years since I left. A long time.” She removed her hand from his arm, hitched her bag onto her shoulder, and looked steadily at him.
He stared at her, lost for words for a moment, and then his brain kicked back into gear.
“How did you know I was back in town?”
“You’ve come to take over the hardware store down at Nebbiton.” Her expression was hard to read.
“Did you read the article in the San Francisco Business Times?” he asked slowly.
The paper had done an interview about his corporate success and anyone who read it would know how wealthy he was now. Past experience had taught him to be wary of people who sought him out, seemingly out of the blue. Straightening his shoulders, he stepped back. “Come in. I have an appointment scheduled, but he’s late so he’s missed out.” Once he found out why she’d come to see him, maybe they could reminisce over old times.
Maybe. It all depended on what she was doing here. That was how he’d handle it.
But despite meaning to put business first, he couldn’t help himself as that damn perfume took over his senses and put his head ten years in the past, not to mention his body.
“You probably thought you’d never see me again but—” Ana stopped speaking as his thoughts rushed into words he hadn’t intended. He couldn’t help himself.
“You know I tried to find you after you left, but no one knew where you had gone. I even tried calling all the Delaneys in the area. Why did you just take off like that?” As much as he tried to keep his voice short and businesslike, he couldn’t help the surge of warmth that coursed through him as she stood so close by.
“You tried to find me?” Her voice was soft and he lost his train of thought for a moment as her clear blue eyes gazed steadily at him.
“I owed you an apology. The way I spoke to you that night was way out of line. And then…the next day…after we…after that night…you were gone when I came home.”
God, he was as tongue-tied as a teenager on his first date.
“All water under the bridge now.” She smiled at him, tucking her hair behind her ear, and his mood softened as her hand shook a little.
“I need to talk to you. Look, I am your appointment. The restoration—”
Before he could register what Anastasia was saying, a loud screech of tires signaled the arrival of a familiar white SUV, which turned into the narrow driveway at the front of the house. A cab followed and parked behind it. Blake groaned.
What the hell is Jeannie up to now?
His sister was the grand master of madcap schemes, and although he loved being with her and her family, this was not the time for one of her shenanigans. He wanted to know why Anastasia had an appointment with him, when he’d been expecting a guy from the hardware store, and he didn’t need Jeannie’s interruption.
All those thoughts flew from his head when his sister jumped out of the car. Her face was streaked with tears. She looked up at him wordlessly over the low hedge that edged the short path in front of the house.
“Excuse me.” He turned to Anastasia before he hurried down the stairs. “Don’t go anywhere.”
He vaulted over the low metal gate to the driveway. By the time he reached his sister, she was handing a small suitcase to the cab driver.
“What’s the matter? What are you doing?” He opened his arms to her and Jeannie leaned into him. Her whole body was shaking.
His stomach clenched and fear crawled into his throat. He placed his hands on her arms, gently pushing her back so he could see her face. Her eyes red-rimmed and awash with tears, Jeannie passed a shaking hand through her short black curls.
“It’s Rod. His plane’s gone missing. They’re out searching now.” She hiccuped and caught her breath. “I just got the call.”
“Where was he going?”
“He was flying back to the lodge from a fishing trip with a group of guys. I’m booked on a flight to Anchorage; it leaves in an hour. The kids are in the car and I threw in some food and clothes for them.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek before handing him a set of car keys.
“I’m so glad you’re here now. I don’t know what I would have done if you had still been in New York. I’ll call you as soon as I get there.”
Before he could answer, she had climbed into the cab and told the driver to hurry to the airport.
“Anything you need, just get it delivered.” Jeannie waved to him from the open window as the cab backed quickly out of the driveway and accelerated down the street. Blake turned to the SUV when the loud bellow of a baby came through the partially open window. Reaching for the door, he looked up when the gate squeaked.
“I couldn’t help but overhear what was happening.” Anastasia hurried over to him. “Tell me how I can help.”
Blake was used to dealing with corporate takeovers and crises in the business place, but was completely at a loss standing in his own driveway with a carload of children. He ran his hand through his hair and turned to Anastasia.
“I guess we’d better get them inside.”
…
The blood had hummed in Ana’s ears when Blake opened the door, and she’d fought the urge to turn and run back to the car. He’d barely changed in ten years. He was better-looking than she’d remembered or dreamed about. His dark brown hair was shorter but still had that cute curl. A few little wrinkles around his eyes added maturity to his face, but apart from that he was still the Blake of her memories. He was perfectly groomed and wore a business suit that fit him to perfection. Ana knew exactly how old he was and when his birthday was; he was only a few months older than she was. She’d focused on looking calm, ignoring the heat that rushed through her fingertips when she touched his arm. The business clothes helped her confidence, although being in stocking feet with wet shoes tucked beneath her arm did detract from the sophistication.
Her heart went out to Jeannie. The grief had been etched into her face, and her voice had broken when Blake held her. Ana had met Jeannie briefly when she’d been in college and all her nervousness disappeared as she thought about how to help her. And if the look on Blake’s face was any indication, he had no idea what to do with a crying baby.
“Unloc
k the door. We need to get them out of the car.” She spoke assertively to show him she knew what she was doing. “Come on, I’ll give you a hand to get them out.”
Plus…as much as she hated taking advantage of the situation, maybe if she helped him out, Blake would owe her and would listen to what she had to say about the renovation department.
Blake double-clicked the automatic key lock in his hand and all the windows of the car slid down. A combination of cries, chattering, and barks became instantly louder. A baby of an indeterminate age, strapped in a rear-facing car seat, was screaming. It had a pink T-shirt on, so Ana assumed it was a girl. Two small boys who looked to be the same age were arguing over an action hero, the noise punctuated by the sharp barks of a large bloodhound whose tongue was hanging over the tops of their heads as it turned from one to the other, lathering drool across the leather seat.
“It’s mine…give it to me.” The struggle escalated as a tug-of-war battle ensued over the action figure.
“No! It’s mine.” The boy on the far side burst into tears as an arm pulled out of the figure’s torso. “Now, look. You broke Spider-Man. I hate you.”
The young girl sitting in the front seat looked up calmly from her book and spoke through the open window.
“Don’t worry, Uncle Blake. He always says that and Mommy tells him not to. So he will be in big trouble when she comes back with Daddy.”
Ana blinked away the tears pricking her eyes at the certainty in the little girl’s voice. Blake appeared to be incapable of moving or speaking, so she decided it was time to take over. One of the staff members at the store had gone into shock one day from an allergic reaction, and Blake had the same look about him.
“Blake, you get the boys out of the back and I’ll take the baby.” She turned to the young girl in the front. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Madeleine, and I am eight years old. I’m the oldest. My twin brothers are six.”