by Dee J. Adams
Paula made the long windy drive over Kanan Road and took the freeway ten minutes to Thousand Oaks. Too bad she didn’t live in Malibu, but at least she worked there. She pulled up to the old apartment complex and parked under the dilapidated carport. She cut the engine and checked out the damage to her front end one more time. Barely a scratch. She smiled. Loved it. After picking up her mail from the box, she continued to the tiny studio apartment she paid a bloody fortune for.
Of course her plans had changed in the last hour. They’d changed a lot. She’d had to do some major rethinking on her original idea. Sure, she’d been casing Bristol’s place for months. She wanted to know the comings and goings of the woman who lived next to Seger Hughes. He’d purchased the Beverly Hills home under his stage name, but she’d been damn surprised to see the name Mel Summers float across her desk at the real estate office. She’d laughed at the name. He hadn’t been Mel Summers in more than twenty years. She knew all about his past and she planned to be all about his future.
Discovering the brunette had moved in changed things. For the better. As more time went by, an idea formed in her head. It would be much easier getting to Ashley Bristol through her roommate. Not only would she become Ashley’s new best friend, she’d become her new set of eyes, when Lizzie what’s-her-face dropped off the face of the earth.
Paula fished for her keys in her Chanel bag, a knock-off she’d purchased at a garage sale, and opened her front door. Her place wasn’t even six hundred square feet. She tossed her purse to the sofa. One big room cordoned off into a bedroom, kitchen, living area and bathroom. She deserved so much more. She deserved the kind of place Ashley Bristol had…right next to Mel Summers. More than that, she deserved to be with Mel in his mansion next door.
Paula headed to the giant six-foot armoire against the center wall and opened its doors. Hundreds of pictures of Seger Hughes stared back at her. She had every major magazine and newspaper article, dozens upon dozens of pictures of him singing, laughing and posing. All of his CDs lined the shelf. And all of this was for her and her alone. He was hers too, he just didn’t know it yet.
She struck a match and watched it burn a second before she lit the sandalwood candle in the top shelf. Seger liked sandalwood. She’d read it. She’d read everything about him. Seger was a naughty boy, lying to the world the way he did. He wasn’t orphaned when his parents were killed in a car crash. She knew their names because she’d looked them up in the school roster. She’d never found an obituary for either one. But she understood and didn’t blame him for lying. It was nobody’s business but his own what he chose to tell about himself and she respected that. She’d never breathe a word to anybody. He’d love her for that. He would come to realize that she was what he’d been waiting for all these years. Now that she’d found him, she’d never let him get away.
The sandalwood scent drifted through the room and Paula relaxed in the chair facing the armoire. She steepled her hands and thought back to those few minutes in Ashley Bristol’s huge house. As soon as she’d heard Lizzie’s feet pounding up the staircase, she’d flushed the toilet, run some water, opened the door and walked quietly toward the kitchen. A blind woman was an easy target. God it would be fun to screw with her, but she hadn’t dared start then. That would come later.
After she screwed with Ashley Bristol, she was going to take Seger Hughes.
Chapter Nine
The next day, Ashley headed out to the beach at noon with Roamer prancing by her side. She opened the small gate and grabbed onto the railing, descending carefully as she listened to Roamer scrambling down the stairs. Once at the bottom, she walked ten paces and reached for one of the two beach chairs. She discovered only one. Since she’d just left Lizzie in the house that meant Mel was probably already here. On the off chance she was right, she had nothing to lose.
“Good morning, Mel,” she said, trudging toward her favorite spot.
A brief pause later—long enough for Ashley to wonder if her hunch had been wrong—Mel said, “Hi, Ashley. Hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your chair again.”
She followed his voice and spotted him in her periphery. “Not at all. That’s why they’re there.” She veered in his direction, set up the chair and her towel and sat next to him. It seemed rude to do otherwise. “Have you been here all morning?” she asked.
He sighed. “Nope. I just sat down about five minutes ago.” Boy, did he not sound happy about that.
“I came later today in case you wanted to be alone.” Yesterday, after sweeping the stairs, and taking a spot near him on the beach, she’d gotten the impression that she’d intruded on his privacy. “I guess you did the same thing.”
“I got the feeling you came down here every morning, so, well…you know,” he said.
He’d all but admitted he was avoiding her company and Ashley tried to push aside the feeling of being unwanted. Was it because of her sight problem, her scar or her personality? She had no way to know. The fact that she’d always gotten along great with the opposite sex had her struggling with finding this man’s sweet spot.
Why should it matter if he liked her or not? Not everyone in the world had to befriend her. It was just that usually they did. Dammit, men liked her! This guy shouldn’t be any different. A fuse of hostility started a slow burn in her middle. Except she was different, she silently reminded herself. Not the complete package. Damaged. She never realized how much flirting she did with her eyes until now when she couldn’t. No more sizzling hot looks or silent promises or batting her lids. Well, she could, but it was hard to do when you weren’t making eye contact.
Still, a part of her wanted to lash out at the obvious insult, but the last thing she needed was to be on bad terms with the new guy even if he didn’t own the house. So she took a deep breath. “Well aren’t we considerate,” she replied.
He chuckled.
That made her feel marginally better so she extended an olive branch. “Look, I can understand wanting alone time. Really,” she said. Even though she didn’t want to, she sat up and started gathering her things. “I’ll come back later this afternoon. You can have your solitude. I’ve been here a year longer than you so it’s only fair that you get some privacy.”
“No. Really. It’s not necessary.” She felt his hand on hers as she reached for the cooler. His warmth shocked her and a tingle shimmied up her arm.
Wow. What was that?
“Please, stay. Besides, your dog is having too good a time. I’d hate to cut it short.” He sounded sincere and he had a point about Roamer.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
There was a little pause, and she sensed his total focus on her. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
Ashley settled back in her chair. “Great. Don’t worry. I know how to keep my mouth shut. You won’t even know I’m here.” Roamer picked that moment to run up and shake salty seawater all over her. She could only guess that Mel got drenched too. “He’s another story,” she said, feeling guilty. “Roamer, c’mere,” she scolded, reaching out for his collar. She grabbed him and pulled him closer. “Leave Mel alone. No Mel,” she stressed. She got a wet tongue on her chin before Roamer pulled out of her grip and took off.
“He’s outta here,” Mel said around another chuckle.
“Sorry if he got you wet.”
“No biggie. He got you worse.”
“Yeah, but I’m used to it. What’s he doing out there?” she asked.
“He’s jumping waves.” The smile in his voice made her grin. “He’s pretty funny. Loves it out there, doesn’t he?”
“God, yes. That’s putting it mildly. It’s his exercise. I can’t really walk him, so…”
“You don’t worry about him in the water?”
“I call him in every few minutes to make sure he’s in ear shot. He’s good and he comes in. It’s funny, but I think he knows there’s something not right with me. It’s that unconditional love, you know. He’s so free out there, but he’s right here when I ask him to be. The perfect man only he
has fur.” Oops, probably shouldn’t have said that. “Sorry.” She laughed. “Just kidding.”
“Hmm,” Mel said. “I have a feeling you weren’t.” But Ashley heard his teasing tone.
“Oh, be honest,” she said. “You’d wish for the same thing in a woman.”
“I’m taking the fifth. I don’t dare get into trouble with my neighbor the day after I moved in.”
Odd how she’d just had the same thought. “Oh, I’m harmless,” she told him. “You have nothing to fear from me.” Her stomach growled and reminded her she had a chicken sandwich waiting for her. The whole reason she’d made chicken last night was for the leftovers afterward. She grabbed her insulated plastic cooler, pulled out a cold Dr Pepper, her sandwich and the barbeque chips she’d packed. She couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into her sandwich.
* * *
Mel’s mouth watered as he watched Ashley pull out her lunch. The second he’d seen Roamer scrambling down the stairs he’d groaned inwardly, knowing Ashley was on her way and wondering if he’d have a chance in hell of staying in his spot without her knowing it. He hadn’t wanted to see anybody or talk to anybody. He’d come down late on purpose, assuming she usually spent the mornings at the beach. Ha. The joke was on him. Not only had she figured out he was there, she’d done it in record time.
Now she was torturing him with food. The sandwich she unwrapped looked like a work of art. The soda and chips made his stomach grumble. He hadn’t thought about lunch when he’d originally left the house. But, man, he was thinking about it now.
She picked up half the sandwich and paused. Then she turned to him and held it out. “You want half? I make a mean chicken sandwich. You won’t find one better.” She smiled and it made Mel smile back. He liked her. She didn’t know who he was, but she still had the inclination to be nice. It would’ve been different if she knew him as Seger. Everyone wanted to give Seger something but it always involved wanting something in return.
“You’re nice to offer, but…” He shook his head.
“But…” she repeated. “You’re a vegetarian?”
“No, no. I just…I don’t want to take your lunch.” His stomach made another ferocious sound and she laughed.
“You’re not taking my lunch. I’m only offering half.” She stuck it out further. “Here, take it. It’s good and you’re hungry.” One eyebrow shot up. “I can’t sit here and eat knowing you’re starving over there.”
“I’m not starving. I just wasn’t thinking that far ahead when I came out here.” He took the sandwich. “Thanks though. I owe you one.”
“Consider it my second official welcome to the neighborhood.”
“Let me tell you…the first official welcome tasted pretty damn good. I finished off the cookies for breakfast this morning.” Mel took a bite…and about died and went to heaven. “Shit, this is great,” he said around a mouthful. “Right up there with those cookies.”
She smiled. “Thanks.” She took a bite of her half, then offered him the bag of chips next. “You have to have barbeque chips with it too, or it’s not the same.”
Why not. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had barbeque potato chips. Hell, had he ever? So he took a handful and popped one into his mouth. “God, that’s good.”
“I know!” She crunched a chip, took another bite of her sandwich and leaned back against her chair. “Mmm, this is the life isn’t it?”
It beat endless traveling and lonely hotel rooms. It surpassed raging hangovers and annoying paparazzi. Yeah, this was the kind of time he needed to regroup. The clean air and fresh ocean breeze might just help heal his tattered soul.
“I could get used to this,” he finally said.
“Nothing stopping you. Except…when do you have to go back to work?”
“Not for a couple weeks. I’ve… Seger’s got a couple of benefit dates coming up with the holidays, but they’re pretty quick ins and outs.”
“That’s good. You need the break.”
He couldn’t help but ask. “How do you know?”
She shrugged. “Just a vibe I get from you.”
A vibe? He hadn’t been here two full days and already she was reading him? If she was this sharp when she was blind, what would she be like with her sight? “What kind of vibe?”
“I don’t know. You seem really low key, maybe a little tired, a little ready for some R and R.” She crunched another chip.
She got that right. Mel took another bite of the sandwich. “Damn, this is good. What do you have in here?”
She swallowed the bite in her mouth. “It’s just chicken.” She lifted her eyebrows. “And two of my secret ingredients.”
Mel rolled his eyes.
Chuckling, she wiped her lips with a napkin. “Aren’t you going to ask what my secret ingredients are?”
“Why? It’s secret. You probably won’t tell me.”
“God, I love a smart man!” She laughed. The carefree, musical sound hit him just as it had the first time. She seemed like she didn’t have a worry in the world as her lips pulled into a beautiful smile. There was something besides her California good looks that truly appealed to him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe it was simply that he could have a conversation with a person who didn’t expect something from him. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened. The starlets and models had wanted the notoriety, free publicity and perks that came with being with him. The fans wanted his DNA. Pathetic, but true.
The short strands of her blond hair glistened in the sun and he had the urge to see if they felt as soft as they looked. It was the first time in months he had the desire to touch a woman. But he wasn’t about to go down that road when what he really needed was more privacy and time alone.
They ate in silence for a few minutes until the sandwich and chips disappeared. Mel chugged from his bottled water, glad he’d thought to bring it. Unfortunately, the sandwich only whetted his appetite. He was still starving.
“Thanks again. That was really good,” he said before sucking down the last of his water.
She brushed crumbs off her lap. “You’re welcome. But I think I can do better. I don’t know about you, but I’m still hungry. Wanna go back to my place and have another one?”
His mouth watered. “Really? You have more?”
“I’ve got enough chicken for three or four more sandwiches.” She smiled. “We could splurge and each have our own. You game?”
It seemed odd how he’d come here to be alone, but after a few minutes with Ashley he didn’t care. There was nothing flirty about her, nothing covert. She didn’t want anything from him except to share her chicken sandwiches. She was hard to resist.
“Isn’t Roamer going to be pissed if he has to go in so soon?” he asked.
“He’ll survive. I’ll toss him some chicken. Don’t let it get around, but he’s easy.” She sprang to her feet and picked up her cooler. “Let’s leave the chairs out. We can come back when we’re done.” She froze and tipped her head to the side. “Better yet, you can come back and I’ll do some stuff around the house and head back later. You can get that solo time you were looking for.” She picked up her chair as if to fold it, but Mel plucked it out of her hands.
“Cut it out,” he said, setting the chair down. What kind of insensitive jerk would eat her sandwich then tell her when she could and couldn’t come to her own beach? “I don’t have to be alone. This isn’t my beach. I don’t own it.” Of course, he thought he did at one point, but…
She nodded sharply. “Good enough.” Turning to the water, she called Roamer and he came sprinting at them like Mighty Dog on puppy uppers. This time he stopped about ten feet away and shook off the salty water and sand.
Mel followed Ashley up the stairs, amazed at her speed and self-assurance. Roamer sprinted ahead of both of them. They walked the thirty yards to her back door. Mel kept up with Ashley’s confident strides. A furry football sat on the edge of the walkway as they came closer to her back door, but Ashle
y kept powering forward. Mel took her arm and stopped her. “Whoa there. You’re about to fall over one of Roamer’s chew toys.” He kicked it out of the way.
“Oh, thanks.” Ashley started moving again and opened the door. “I call this the sand room,” she said of the small room that led into the kitchen. “You know,” she continued, “as opposed to a mud room.”
“Of course. Makes perfect sense.” Mel chuckled. But he was still bothered about the near miss with the dog toy. The kitchen was massive. Not as big as his, but close. Unlike his dark stainless steel kitchen, hers was all white tile and oak, large and homey with a giant center island and accompanying bar stools. Green vines painted on the walls gave the room an al fresco feeling. “So you don’t use a cane, huh?” he asked.
“I have one,” she said, shooting him a smile that clearly said, but I don’t use it.
“Isn’t that dangerous not using it?”
She shrugged and Mel got the feeling it wasn’t a subject she wanted to discuss.
Ashley crossed to the sink, washed her hands and went to work, taking Tupperware out of the fridge and wheat bread from the built-in bread box on the counter. She tossed him the loaf. “Here, you can put four slices in the toaster.” She pointed to the counter. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “but when you come to my house, you’re at home. That means you help.”
“Fair enough.” When was the last time Mel had done anything in a kitchen? When had he done anything domestic, period? He set the slices in the toaster and slid them down to heat.
Ashley continued to bustle around the kitchen, getting glasses, plates and knives. It struck Mel that rarely did she show any hesitation or give away the fact that she couldn’t see. She moved methodically, her hands searching, reaching until she found what she wanted. She set two placemats on the counter. Her hands were amazing; long, slender fingers with short manicured nails and white tips at the end. Most of the women in his life had blood red nails that could scratch out a pair of eyes in a heartbeat. Ashley was so different than most of the females he’d been around the last fifteen years and she worked with such precision that he found himself almost mesmerized by her.