by Annie Seaton
Ana couldn’t help the bubble of laughter coming up from her chest and past her lips. Blake tipped his head to the side.
“What? Is it so funny I carry a flash drive around?”
“No.” She pointed to the table. “I don’t think you can transfer shoe boxes to a flash drive.”
Blake looked to where she was pointing at the three overflowing containers. He turned back to her and smiled, the laugh lines crinkling around his blue eyes.
“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”
Ana caught her breath, the feelings she had been trying to push away since she’d first seen him last Friday rolled over her in waves, and she closed her eyes to block his face from her view. She tried to summon up a semblance of control as her nerve endings went into a tailspin from him standing so close to her. There was silence for a moment, and then gentle fingers gripped her chin again. She opened her eyes slowly.
“It’s going to be okay.”
Ana heard what he was saying but the words didn’t really sink in. The expression on his face told her he wasn’t really thinking business, either. Silence stretched between them and she wondered if the same tingles were running up and down his arms as he held her gaze in his.
Don’t get excited.
She wasn’t going to get her hopes up, because dreams didn’t come true like that. He was just being kind.
“Right, then. Let’s talk business,” she said briskly, smoothing her hands down the front of her jeans. “That’s really the only thing we’re here for, isn’t it?” She crossed the room and picked up the first box.
…
The fact that Ana reminded him of their business relationship brought Blake solidly back to earth. Years of making high-stake deals in boardrooms had taught him how to keep his expression bland. But when Ana stood in front of him grasping a blasted shoe box against the “whatchamacallits” and “doohickeys” T-shirt, the sweet smile on her face sent all his resolve crumbling.
“Come outside with me. The table on the porch is clear.”
While he waited on the porch, Ana made more coffee for them. By the look of things they would be here a while. It was only fair to listen to her. She’d put her life aside for him over the weekend and helped him with Jeannie’s kids, so it was one way he could repay her a little bit. And besides, he loved being with her. Once she’d left, his house had seemed sterile and empty. Her enthusiasm for her work and the local community was infectious, and he was prepared to listen to what she had to say and read the proposal.
No promises, but he’d listen.
He knew Mike would be immovable on changing the store structure. Every Home and Hardware store across the country was identical. The stock, the layout, the staff structure, even their uniforms—he’d argued a few times with Mike about the need to do a demographic study, but in his usual bullheaded form, the man wouldn’t listen.
“Shit.” Thinking about Mike reminded Blake of Jack waiting for him in town. He glanced down at his watch. It was just after two o’clock. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through to Jack’s number and pressed call.
“Hey, Blake.”
“Sorry, Jack. I got caught up with some business. Do you mind if we skip that round of golf?”
“No problem. Sienna here”—Blake heard a feminine chuckle in the background—“has offered to show me around. I was just about to call and see how much longer you’d be.”
“Great. I’ll check back with you in a couple of hours when we finish.”
“Sounds like a plan. See ya later.”
The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted out to Blake as he put the phone back into his pocket. He drew a deep breath and settled back into the comfortable chair. He grinned to himself—the porch was neat and tidy in contrast to the inside of the cottage. A deep planter running along the balcony was filled with a profusion of sweet-smelling herbs. Wind chimes hung on each side of the steps and as the afternoon breeze puffed in, the gentle tinkle of chimes overlaid the sound of the surf softly pushing against the base of the cliff.
The door opened and he jumped up to take the tray from Ana.
“I’ll just get the boxes.” She grinned at him and disappeared inside, reappearing with her arms laden with the three boxes.
“How long have you lived here?” Blake gestured around to the cottage.
“Do you mean in the cottage? I bought it about nine years ago, after my mom died. There was a small inheritance, but it was in such a state of disrepair, I got it cheap. I didn’t move in for a few months. Sienna and Georgie helped me do the kitchen and bathroom so it was livable.”
“So you’ve been friends with them for a while?”
“Since the first day of school when we were five years old.”
“I owe you a couple more apologies, you know.” He looked out over the ocean, searching for the right words. “When my parents died in the accident, Jeannie and I were left in that huge old house.” He shook his head and reached for his coffee. “I knew Jeannie was going off to Caltech and I was terrified of being alone. So I filled the house with you guys and watched you all have a great time.”
“You never really did join in with us,” Ana said quietly. “I always felt we weren’t good enough for you.”
Blake stared down at his feet and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I just didn’t know how to connect with you all. So I guess I overplayed the landlord role a bit and in the end, really screwed things up.”
He lifted his head and turned to face Ana. “I always wondered if you left so suddenly because we slept together. Now I know it was your mom, but I still wonder why you didn’t leave me a note.”
“I was just so upset. My mom was ill—dying. I came back here to Nebbiton without thinking about anything else.”
Blake wasn’t aware he’d been holding his breath, but now he let it out in a light exhale. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I know how tough it was for Jeannie and me when we lost Mom and Dad in the same year. But for ten years, I thought you left college because of me.” He put his hand on her arm as distress filled her face.
“No, Blake. You couldn’t be more wrong. That night was special for me and it stayed with me through some pretty tough times. I was young and Mom was all I had. I guess I didn’t know how to handle my grief. And after she passed, the twins and I started up the business and it grew from there.” She leaned across and picked up a business card that was in the box with the receipts and invoices. “I’ll never have the academic credentials you do, and I don’t lead a glamorous corporate life, but we work hard and we do okay.” She passed him the business card and smiled at him. Her face came alight as she looked up at him and it was like a punch to his stomach. For a moment, he just looked at her, the light in her face, as she told him about the business.
“We had so much work when our reputation began to build, Joe offered us the chance to run our own department out of the store. Georgie had worked there since she’d left school and Joe did the billing and the accounting—the store side of things, while Sienna pulled in the jobs. And we all did the restoration work.”
Blake shook his head slightly. “I don’t understand. If they do the business side, why do you have all this?” He gestured to the boxes.
Ana darted a sideways glance at him as she turned the pages. “The accounts that go through the store are the ones where we make the money. These other accounts are for the jobs that the store…er…subsidizes. But it shows you how many jobs we have. Between the two types of jobs and the great profit the store makes on the others, these kind of—”
“Kind of what?”
Ana jutted out her chin. “Look, Blake. It’s the sort of thing that happens in small towns where members of the community look out for one another.”
“I’m not arguing. I just don’t understand what you’re saying.” A prickle of unease trickled down his neck. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like her explanation.
“Okay, it’s like this. Like I said before, we have two types of c
lients. There are the locals who need work done to maintain their homes, and there are the outsiders who buy up the old houses to renovate them for profit.”
“So you charge them differently?”
“One side of the business funds the other. The people who hire us to restore their houses so that they can flip them are happy. They make up for the money we spend on the old folks’ maintenance jobs. Joe supplies the materials from the store and we charge them at cost.”
He scratched at his head. “So where’s the profit come from?”
“Well,” she said slowly. “There isn’t a lot.”
“And Joe was happy with this setup?”
Ana folded her arms. “Yes, he was.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
Ana pursed her lips, obviously trying to keep her response polite. He recognized the signs of her temper building from the old days.
“Apart from the satisfaction of helping people? I get a wage.” She pushed herself to her feet and waved a hand over the boxes. “I’m not doing a good job of explaining here.” She went back inside and came out with her car keys. “Come with me.”
Blake followed her as she strode across to the old work truck beside his Mercedes and he thoughtfully climbed into the passenger seat.
Ana didn’t speak as she backed down the steep driveway. Blake bounced in the seat as the wheels hit a rut and his head hit the roof of the car. He reached for his seat belt as they turned out onto the Cabrillo Highway.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Chapter Eleven
Ana’s heart was pounding and heat was flushing through her body. She’d really messed that up. She hadn’t referred to the business plan once. It had been ten years since she’d written all those great essays on welfare economics, and all the terminology could still roll off her tongue. But here she was talking to a corporate executive who had always bettered her in any argument. At least he could read it in the proposal.
If he even reads it.
Her hands gripped the steering wheel and she stared ahead at the road as it wound north toward Nebbiton. Blake didn’t speak as she guided the car around the sweeping bends of the highway, and she focused on her breathing. Showing him the Bennett place was going to demonstrate how good their work was, but deep in her heart she worried it wasn’t going to make the slightest bit of difference to his decision.
As they rounded the last curve, the house appeared in front of them, situated majestically at the top of a sweeping lawn with the Realtor’s sign perched in the middle.
“Hmm,” Blake said. “That’s an exclusive agency. They’re one of the best in the Bay Area.”
“This is an exclusive house.” Ana pulled up beside the fountain in the middle of the circular driveway and reached into the glove compartment for the house keys.
She put the key into the lock of the main entry, conscious of him standing so close behind her that she could almost feel the warmth of his body. Smiling to herself, she turned her attention to his reaction to the house. He was about to get his socks blown off.
But when she turned to him, Blake wasn’t looking at the house. His gaze was fixed on her, and her heart kicked up a notch. Reaching out, he brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face. Warmth settled in her stomach. No matter how much she tried to convince herself they were too different, his touch sent her nerves jangling.
“So why are we here?”
“Just wait.”
The Bennetts had employed a landscaping firm and staged the house with rented furniture to help with the sale. The only room without furniture was the ballroom, where she and the girls had just recently completed the decorative plasterwork.
“This is why I couldn’t help you out on Saturday. We had to finish up here.” With one hand casually anchored on her hip, she led him through to the large room leading out to the balcony and swallowed a satisfied smile when he looked around.
Ana dropped her hand from her hip and straightened her shoulders as she looked around with satisfaction. “Did a good job, didn’t we?”
“What exactly did you do?”
“Everything.” She spread her hands wide. “Plasterwork, painting, tiling, cupboards, varnishing—” Her voice trailed off as Blake walked into the kitchen and she followed him.
“The only thing we don’t do is the plumbing and the electrics, but Joe’s two nephews take care of that.”
Blake walked over to the countertop and ran his hand along the gleaming granite before turning to her. “You, Sienna, and Georgie did all of this?”
“Yep.”
“This is amazing. It’s as good as anything I’ve ever seen.” Slowly shaking his head, Blake turned back to her.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Ana laughed at the disbelief on his face. “Why do you look so surprised? And be careful of any answer you might be thinking of giving.”
She studied him, standing in the room where she had worked her butt off for the past three months. A lurch in her belly hit her like a sucker punch. No matter what he thought of her, no matter what he said, she wanted him as much as she ever had. Despite their differences, his presence surrounded her and filled her senses. She tried to ignore the effect his proximity was having on her, but she failed miserably.
“This is wonderful.” Blake shook his head. “You are very talented.”
“And there’s more.” Turning on her heel, Ana walked to the door and flung it open. “Come on. It might not be as upscale as you’re used to, but the work that goes into it is worth ten times more to me than something like this.”
She’d shown him what she did and told him how Joe worked. Showing him Thelma and Mitzi’s house might kill any chance of him taking her seriously, but she was going to be honest about what drove her to do the work she did.
And then the ball would be firmly in his business court.
…
Blake wondered why Ana had brought him here. The two elderly ladies fussed over him as he held a fragile teacup between his fingers and balanced a plate of cake in his other hand. Ana sat back with a smug smile.
“And we must show you the chicken coop too.” The smaller of the two ladies reached over and held his arm—he thought it was Mitzi—and he couldn’t move for fear of dropping his plate.
“Ana built it for us last fall. She is very clever, you know.” The old dear dropped her voice to a whisper and he nodded, glancing across at Ana as a stifled chuckle came from where she was sitting.
“Did we tell you, she fixed our fence too?” the other woman added.
“And our roof was leaking and she came out in the middle of the night, climbed up on the old wooden ladder to fix it while it was still stormy.” Blake’s head turned from one to the other as they finished each other’s sentences.
“And there was the time—”
“Mr. Buchanan has seen plenty of the house,” Ana interrupted. “As soon as he finishes his tea, we’ll have to go. He’s very important.” Blake narrowed his eyes as Ana smiled at him sweetly. “He’s the new owner of Joe’s store, you know.”
The two old dears squealed with delight and sat on either side of him on the floral sofa.
“How wonderful! So you are going to be a part of our town.” The one called Thelma patted his hand.
“You can come to the weekend markets. Do you do any woodwork or make things? You could set up a stall.” Mitzi hung on to his other arm. “And you will have to come to dinner with us.”
Blake glanced across at Ana as she stifled a laugh.
“Thank you, I’ll hold you to that.” He smiled as Ana looked obviously surprised at his acceptance of the elderly women. “And I’m not the owner, just the manager, and I’ll be living in San Francisco.”
“Oh, no.” Thelma grabbed his hand and shook her head. “Living in the city is too lonely. A nice young man like you needs to be part of a wonderful community like ours.” She shot a smile at Ana. “If you are working here, you will need to live close
by. And you’ll need to mix with other young people.”
“And if you live close by, you can come to dinner with us more often.” Mitzi squeezed his hand. “Isn’t that so, Ana? You tell him what wonderful cooks we are.”
Ana caught his eye and grinned at him as she nodded. He had a feeling he was the center of a matchmaking plot being hatched by the two women. But despite the teasing, he was surprised to find he was enjoying himself. “I’d be delighted to come for dinner and try your home cooking. I haven’t had a lot of that since my parents died. Mom never taught me to cook, so I’m pretty useless in the kitchen. My sister has five children and when I eat at her house, we generally eat the same meal as the children.” Blake couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to anyone about his family. In fact, he doubted if any of his work colleagues even knew he had family back in San Francisco. “I usually eat out at restaurants.”
“That’s dreadful! We’ll have to take you under our wing,” Thelma said.
“Like we did with Ana,” Mitzi said, looking across at Ana with a smile. “She eats with us often, don’t you, sweetie? After her poor mom passed on, we all made sure she looked after herself.” Mitzi pulled a lace hanky from her pocket and wiped her eyes. “And now she’s like a granddaughter to us.”
“Not only us, she takes care of the whole community.” Thelma stared at him. “I hope things won’t change? It would be dreadful if Ana couldn’t help us out.”
Discomfort filled Blake at the thought of the changes that were about to happen. He’d had no idea what Ana had meant when she’d talked about the jobs she did for the elderly folk and he couldn’t really answer them, so he smiled and picked up his teacup.
Thelma reached for her walking stick and pushed herself to her feet. “Mitzi, give Mr. Buchanan another slice of cake.” She turned to Ana. “Come into the kitchen, dear. We’ve chosen the new colors for the walls.”
Blake glanced at Ana as Mitzi refilled his teacup and passed him another slice of cake. He knew Ana was enjoying herself. They left him sitting in the parlor—the room filled with old-fashioned furniture and knickknacks couldn’t be called anything else—while the two women dragged Ana into the kitchen. Leaning back on the sofa, Blake closed his eyes, trying to come to terms with everything he’d seen today.