by Annie Seaton
“I didn’t. She just turned up here. She was telling me what she wanted when you arrived.”
Blake flopped onto the couch and put his arm along the back of the seat behind the twins, drumming his fingers on the leather. The house was starting to look like his again now that Jeannie had packed up all the toys. A soon as they left he was going to do some investigating into this restoration guy who had sent Ana.
Jeannie shot him a curious glance as she bustled past him with an armful of toys.
“You look upset. It wasn’t that bad having the kids here, was it?”
“No.” Blake jumped up and hugged his sister. “Just some business worries on my mind.”
By the time Billy woke, the car was packed and the children were lined up for a hug from Unca Blake.
“I’ll come over and visit later in the week,” Blake promised. “I’ve decided to take a drive down the coast to Half Moon Bay tomorrow to check out the store.”
“Wasn’t that where Anastasia used to live?”
“Where did you get that idea?”
“I remember her telling me years ago when I went on a road trip down that way.”
“Maybe she does,” Blake said thoughtfully. “We were so busy looking after the kids we didn’t get to catch up much.”
“It would be sweet if you could get to know her again.” Jeannie stood beside the car as the children climbed into the backseat. “You know she had a crush on you back then.”
“Maybe.” Blake held his arms out for the baby so Jeannie could secure the children into their seats. He wasn’t going to tell Jeannie what had happened between them. “But mostly I was always the big bad landlord.”
“You were grieving for Mom and Dad, and you always took your responsibilities so seriously.” Jeannie gave him a quick hug before she opened the door. “You need to lighten up and start enjoying life.”
“And get married, the twins tell me?” He couldn’t resist teasing Jeannie, and his mood lightened as she grinned up at him.
He’d been very hard on Ana, but the thought of her being used by some incompetent handyman to come and plead on his behalf had stirred him up. It wasn’t her fault that she wore her heart on her sleeve. She’d always been up-front about the way she was. Something niggled at him. He’d call his secretary and find out exactly who’d made the appointment as soon as Jeannie had gone.
His sister interrupted his musing as she lowered the car window. “I really owe you one, little brother. You have a good week.”
Anticipation curled in Blake’s stomach as he thought about the week ahead. He would track Ana down and get to the bottom of this. The time spent with the children—and Ana— had pushed away any thoughts about the store takeover, which was totally out of character for him. He needed to get his head back to business.
“I intend to, sis.”
Chapter Seven
Ana dropped in on Thelma and Mitzi’s farm to see if they still needed her help, but Georgie had visited earlier and had already moved their crates to their small shed. The two elderly ladies pressed her to stay for supper, but she declined. She had to find Sienna and Georgie. They needed to get the accounts in order, and prepare the tightest business plan they could come up with. She was going to have a formal business meeting with Mr. Blake Buchanan as soon as he hit town. And she’d make sure her temper stayed in check—she’d be calm and businesslike and have a glossy folder full of spreadsheets all ready for him.
“I suppose you have to mow the lawn and do your odd jobs,” Thelma admonished her, wagging a finger in her face. “It’s well past time you found a husband and sat home having babies.”
Ana fought a giggle as a ludicrous picture of sitting in her cottage popping babies out came into her head. Then the smile faded as she remembered the feel and sweet smell of little Jake’s downy head against her face.
Sure, she wanted a houseful of kids one day, but first she had to sort her work life out and make sure she could keep their business going somehow.
And besides, she needed a husband first before she could sit at home and drop babies out. She stifled another giggle. Blake popped into her mind and she tried to push away thoughts of their weekend together.
Go away, Blake.
Ana left the farm and drove through town to her next-door neighbor’s house at the bottom of the hill. Old Jerry loved looking after her dog, Mutt, and walking him on the beach while she was at work, and he fed the cat and watched her house on the rare occasions she went away. In return, she mowed his lawn for him every second weekend and did odd jobs for him.
Ana whistled for Mutt to follow her, and he bounded up the hill behind the car, pleased to see her home.
Cliff Cottage, her own little house, was perched on the hill just off Highway One, six miles south of Nebbiton. Opening the gate, she called for the large, clumsy dog to follow her into the garden. His head nudged her thigh as she put the key in the lock and she reached down to scratch his head.
“Miss me, boy?” Soulful brown eyes looked up at her with adoration and she smiled at him, stepping back as he pushed past her into the kitchen. He headed for his basket by the window, totally at home inside the cottage. Blake could learn a lot from Mutt, she thought.
Huh, no pets past his kitchen. He didn’t know what he was missing out on. She squatted down beside the basket as the dog walked around three times before flopping down on the cushion. She scratched behind his ears. “Pets make a home, don’t they, Mutt?”
Ana stood and stretched, easing the tension from her body and trying to get Blake Buchanan out of her head. She averted her gaze from the shoe boxes on the table overflowing with papers, and reached over to the kettle to brew some peppermint tea. Pouring dog kibble into Mutt’s bowl next to the door, she allowed herself a quick glance around the cottage. One day she would find the time to finish the various restoration projects she’d started here. Compared to Blake’s house, her home looked like a—well, if she was completely honest, like a junk shop.
But this little cottage was hers and she loved every inch of it. As soon as she’d sorted out the problem with their jobs, finished the accounts, painted Thelma and Mitzi’s kitchen as she’d promised weeks ago, she would start on the next room. She hated saying no to the old dears. It had only been a couple of months since she’d last painted it and they had decided they didn’t like the color. She had Sienna lined up for something special for them, but Ana had no idea when they were going to find the time to do the job.
There was always so much to do, and it was more important to fix the elderly folks’ windows and leaky roofs than pretty up her cottage. Hers could wait; they needed to be warm and dry, and most of them couldn’t afford a handyman. She frowned to herself as she thought of Blake and what he’d think of the community down here. Very different from New York and Nob Hill.
Get out of my head, Blake. She shook her head impatiently. Two days back in his company and he’d taken over her thoughts.
Her house phone rang and she scrambled through the paint tins and rolls of wallpaper beside the shoe boxes to pick up the old-fashioned handset.
Sienna’s voice greeted her. “Oh good, you’re home. Time to tell us what happened with Mr. CEO. We’re having a girls’ night in—at your place. We’re on the way. Is your house a mess?”
Ana looked around again and grinned. Sienna was just as bad as she was and she wouldn’t even notice the furniture covered in drop cloths. Georgie, however, would run around all night and try to clean up.
“The usual. If you’re happy to perch at the kitchen table, you can help me with the accounts. Georgie can cook.”
“No need. We’ve already ordered Indian from Raj. So there’s no excuse for you. Tonight you come clean and tell us where you’ve been and all about this mystery man.”
Ana sighed. “I was about to call you and invite you over anyhow. We need to make some contingency plans.”
“We’re on the way.”
By the time Ana had had a quick shower and pu
lled on some warmer clothes, the lights of her work truck appeared at the end of her driveway. She knew it was her truck because one headlight pointed up to the trees and the other dropped down to the ground. She really had to get it fixed.
The smell of curry wafted in with Sienna and Georgie, and Ana smiled as Sienna pulled a bottle of wine from her bag.
“Spare beds are made up,” she said.
“No. I’ll only have one glass. I want my little red car back home safely in its own garage. That truck of yours is appalling, Ana.” Sienna twisted the cork in the wine bottle until it gave a pop. Georgie put the bag of food on the counter, shoving one of the shoe boxes to make room.
“Okay, boss. Pull out the plates and spill all your news. Where have you been? I thought you’d run away with my car.”
Georgie lifted her gaze from the containers of food. “You promised you’d tell us yesterday, but you’ve been as closemouthed as Joe was when he was selling the store.”
“Yeah, we don’t want any more surprises here. You saw the head honcho on Friday, when you borrowed the fancy clothes and my killer shoes. And then you disappear. That smacks of getting lucky to me.” Sienna fixed a steely gaze on her.
Ana gave a sad little laugh. “I wish. Sorry girls, Blake is way out of my league. He was ten years ago, and he still is now.”
“What do you mean out of your league?” Georgie shook a finger at her.
“Way out. CEO, master’s degree, and look at me.” Ana folded up the corners of the kitchen tablecloth, drew them together like a swag, and lifted the cloth and its contents onto the floor. “I might have the business savvy, but I haven’t got the qualifications to back it up.”
“And you think he’ll judge the success of our business by that?” Sienna frowned. “I don’t like the sound of this guy. He sounds like a real snob.”
Ana pulled a clean cloth out of the bottom drawer in the old dresser and flicked it over the table. “He’s not really, but we have to be better prepared to fight for our survival. Otherwise there will be no ‘us.’”
“Whatever we have to do, we will.” Sienna’s words were positive as she opened the cabinet and passed the plates and flatware to Ana, while Georgie put out the food containers and poured their wine.
Ana picked up her glass and held it up. “To the future…whatever that may be.”
Sienna groaned and the three girls clinked their glasses together before serving out the curry and rice. She placed her elbows on the table and pointed her fork at Ana while she chewed. “Now, what happened and what’s with the rush to get a business plan prepared? We’ve never needed one before.”
“We’ve never been in the middle of a takeover before.” Ana sighed. “I discovered Blake is as sexist and purely after profit as he was ten years ago. He’s probably even worse. He just assumed I was there on behalf of some guy.”
“So what did he say when you told him it was us—three women? What did he say to that?”
“His sister arrived and I left before I blew it completely. I was about to lose my temper and you know that’s not pretty. The three of us are going to create a proper business plan and proposal for me to take when I meet with him. We need to strengthen our argument for staying.” Ana loaded her plate with a second helping and held her glass out to Sienna for more wine. “We have to show him how we can increase the store profits. And all on a business footing. It’s going to take more than a business suit and Jimmy Choos.” She shot a grin over at Sienna. “How much did you love those shoes anyway?”
“Why?”
“Ah, they just got a bit wet.” Ana took a sip and closed her eyes as the image of Blake’s face stayed with her. His welcoming smile when she had stood on the porch with the wet shoes tucked under her arm had lit up his whole face. He had seemed genuinely pleased to see her. “Blake’s not coming down till Friday, so we’re going to put our heads together tonight and get the plan done. But you know, don’t get me wrong, he can really be a nice guy.”
“You’re not making sense. He’s either a nice guy and you can trust him, or he’s not.” Georgie sipped her wine and frowned.
“So just how close were you two in this shared house?” Sienna’s beautifully made-up eyes were fixed on Ana’s face. “There’s something you aren’t telling us.”
Lifting her wineglass, Ana held it up and twirled it, and didn’t meet Sienna’s gaze. What had happened back then was between her and Blake, and she wasn’t going to share it. “We were just friends. I’ll make an appointment to see him before he comes down, okay?”
And I’ll keep my temper this time. Waiting another couple of days isn’t going to make a difference. He’ll either listen to me and we stay or he won’t listen, and we’ll be out of a job.
Ana walked over to the side of the room, picked up her laptop, and brought it back to the table.
“No more wine tonight, girls. We are going to come up with the best damned plan for a community-based initiative within the new store. We need to show Blake how the restoration business is necessary for the economic well-being of this community and how it can—no, how it will—turn a profit. If this doesn’t work, nothing will.”
Chapter Eight
Blake tucked his hands deep into his pockets and stood at the corner of California and Taylor streets waiting for the lights to change. He glanced up at Grace Cathedral, which was bathed in soft light, showcasing the beautiful windows. He’d bring Billy here one night, since the little guy was fascinated by the windows. They wouldn’t go to the top of the building because he still couldn’t handle heights, but they could look at them from the lower levels. He’d managed to shake most of the fear that had stayed with him since Billy had teetered over that busy road, but now he shivered. One of the reasons he’d come back to San Francisco for a while was so he could live in the family house in Nob Hill. But when he had kids, there was no way he would stay in a city with all its traffic and hidden dangers.
He blinked with surprise.
Where had that come from?
He had too much on his mind and his thoughts were skewing in a crazy direction. He needed to get them on track before he sat down with Mike.
Ana had been firmly fixed in his mind since she’d driven away this afternoon, and now it was time to turn his thoughts to business. He had barely given the takeover a thought since he’d put his laptop away on Friday afternoon. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why she had come to plead the restoration guy’s case. And she said she had her own business? As soon as he arrived in Nebbiton, he was going to find her and get to the bottom of it.
And if he was honest, he owed her an apology. He’d been so shaken by what happened with Billy, he’d taken it out on her.
The cold breeze blew up the narrow street from the bay. When there was a lull in the traffic noise, the mournful sound of the foghorns filled the quiet. Blake hurried down the hill and turned into Pine Street, looking for Rue Lepic. He almost walked past—it was a tiny building on the corner, nothing like the restaurants in New York where Mike usually held court. Pushing open the door, he looked around and spotted Mike and Helen sitting at a table tucked into the corner window overlooking the street.
“Blake.” Mike’s loud voice boomed out across the small space and some of the other diners smiled as he stood and enfolded Blake into a tight hug. “Great to see you, boy. What do you think of San Francisco so far?”
Blake laughed and caught Helen’s smile. “Hasn’t changed much. Remember I grew up here, Mike?”
If it had nothing to do with making money, information didn’t stay in Mike’s head for very long. Before Blake could squeeze into the narrow space on the other side of the table, the bell on the door rang as it opened.
“Here’s Jack!” Helen stood and waited for her son to cross the small restaurant before folding him into a tight embrace.
“Hey, buddy.” Blake reached over and shook Jack’s hand when he’d extricated himself from his mother’s arms. “What are you doing on the West Coa
st?”
“I’m moving down to Monterey.” Jack nodded at his father, who sat tight-lipped, looking out the window, apparently engrossed in the traffic. “Dad.”
Mike looked back at his son as Jack squeezed into the other side of the table next to Blake. “Son.”
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds until Blake turned to Jack. They’d met a couple of years ago and hit it off instantly over a few rounds of golf at the exclusive Shinnecock Hills Golf Club in New York, where Mike was a member. Last Blake had heard, Jack had been commissioned to do a series of paintings for the club.
“So why the move to Monterey?” he asked.
“I’ve bought a gallery in Carmel. And I’ll have peace and quiet to paint. New York interferes with my creative process.”
Mike gave a loud harrumph noise and picked up the menu. “Time to order, and then Blake and I have business to discuss.”
After a few moments of casual conversation, Mike left to go to the restroom and Helen turned to Blake with an apologetic smile.
“Just ignore this pair. Mike is still cross that Jack doesn’t love the business like he does. You know what he’s like.” Helen looked across at her son. “And Jack likes pushing his buttons.”
“He’ll get over it.” Jack shrugged. “And if he doesn’t, I don’t really give a shit.”
“Jack!” Helen glared at him and turned to Blake.
“Now before we get buried in business talk, tell me about your place here. Are you going to live in the city and drive down to Half Moon Bay every day?”
“I’d like to stay in my family house, but I suppose it will depend on the drive”—he glanced across at Mike, who was walking back to the table—“and the hours I’ll have to put in to get the store up and running.”
“Knowing Dad, he’ll expect twenty-four/seven.” Jack glanced at his father, who had stopped at the small bar on the other side of the restaurant.