Private Lessons

by Dara Girard

  For the next half hour she tried to pretend not to notice him, although it was hard seeing Annette wrapping her arm around his and toting him around as if he were her favorite toy. Or something more. Were they together? Was he cheating? He’d said he was single, but was that a lie?

  No, a man who helped people learn how to read and fostered elderly dogs wouldn’t be like that. There had to be a reason for this.

  Jodi dashed into another room just to get away from seeing him and to cool her growing suspicions. She crashed into someone coming out. She stumbled back and looked up at a man so good looking that for a moment she was speechless. She knew him from somewhere. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, this is just my luck,” he said with a smile. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, about your delicious banana fritters.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “What did you use?”

  She told him the simple ingredients and then he asked her other questions before, to her surprise, he helped her forget Dylan and made her feel like one of the most interesting women in the room.

  He seemed familiar to her, but she wasn’t sure why. “Have we met before?”

  “No. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” He held out his hand. “I’m Malcolm Falconer by the way.”

  “With Flynn Fleet’s,” Jodi said instantly making the connection.

  “The one and only. I’m always looking for ways to treat our employees when we host parties for them and I know your banana fritters would be a hit.”

  “I’m not a caterer,” she said, feeling suddenly shy. “I just did it to help Annette as a friend.”

  He lifted a brow. “What does it take to become a friend of yours?”

  Jodi laughed at his flirtatious tone. “A lot.”

  He pulled out his card. “If you change your mind.”

  A striking woman in a plum purple dress came up behind him. “About what?” she asked, giving Jodi the once over.

  “My wife,” the man said, his natural good mood seeming to fade a bit.

  “Gwen,” she said, shaking the tips of Jodi’s fingers.

  “Jodi.”

  “She’s a friend of Annette’s,” Malcolm said.

  The woman’s gaze sharpened. “Really? I thought I knew all of Annette’s friends.”

  “No,” Jodi said quickly not wanting her to misunderstand. “More like acquaintances.”

  “I was just complimenting her about the food,” Malcolm said. “Have you tried the banana fritters?”

  “Why would I? They’re fattening.”

  He winked at Jodi. “And delicious.”

  “Excuse us,” Gwen said, taking Malcolm’s arm in a clearly possessive gesture.

  Jodi nodded and watched them join another couple, wondering why Gwen would even consider her a threat.

  “Have you seen where your brother has disappeared to?” Annette said when she found Gwen standing alone on the back patio.

  Gwen sipped her watermelon sangria as she stared at Jodi who was talking to one of the wait staff, the cool liquid calming her burning thoughts. “Who is that woman?”

  Annette followed her friend’s gaze. “Nobody.”

  “She’s very attractive.”

  Annette shrugged. “In a simple way.”

  “She said she’s a friend of yours.”

  “I’m her lawyer,” Annette said with a laugh. “But she’s grateful for the help I give her. She’s some assistant at By Your Side.”

  “And her name is—?”

  Annette looked at her friend surprise. “Does it matter?”

  Gwen kept her gaze on Jodi.

  “You can’t be serious. She’s no threat.”

  “I saw Malcolm talking to her.”

  “He’s probably being friendly. She’s truly a nobody.”

  Gwen took another sip of her drink. “I don’t care.”

  “Her name is Jodi Durant and she’s as naïve as a child. You don’t have to worry about her.”

  Gwen didn’t respond. When it came to her husband and other women, she was always worried.

  17

  She felt a gaze as heavy as a fist.

  Jodi turned and saw Gwen glaring at her, not understanding the other woman’s animosity. Although Annette and Malcolm had made her feel welcome, his wife, Gwen, branded her an outsider and she felt it even more keenly now.

  Jodi went back inside ready to head back to the basement. She’d spent enough time playing make-believe; it was time to go back where she belonged. She saw Dylan in the hall coming from the opposite direction, but looked away and opened the basement door.

  “Keep going and don’t look back,” he said behind her.

  She did as she was told and made her way down the stairs then turned to him once they reached the landing.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, but the remainder of her words was smothered by a kiss.

  “You look beautiful,” he whispered against her lips, pulling her into the circle of his arms. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you and now here you are. Am I dreaming?”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, savoring the gentle assault, realizing how much she’d missed him and how it had hurt when he’d looked right through her. “I hope this is real.”

  He buried his face in her neck. “You smell good too,” he said, his breath hot against her skin. “You feel even better.” He held her close. “I can’t believe I got dumped for a dog.”

  “How is Gus?”

  He slid his hand down her back. “If I knew you’d be here I would have come sooner.”

  She stopped his hand from roaming lower and placed it back on her waist. “But why are you here?”

  He briefly rested his forehead against hers before he straightened and looked down at her. “You first.”

  “I was—” she began but the look in his eyes, a kind of controlled mischief, reminded her of someone she couldn’t quite place. Until the image of a striking, cold woman came to her mind. “Did you know that the owner of Flynn’s Fleets is here with his wife?”

  “He’s not the owner.”

  “What?”

  Dylan waved his hand. “Nothing. What else do you know?”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Why are you here? Who invited you?”

  “I wasn’t really invited. I just helped Annette with some of the food.”

  His brows shot up. “You work for her?”

  “No, I’m just helping out.”

  “And you were coming down here to get more wine or something?”

  “No,” Jodi said with a laugh. “I live here.”

  Dylan released her and took a step back, shocked. “This is your house?”

  “Sort of. It’s a long story,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “Now your turn. Are you seeing Annette?”

  For a moment he looked ill. “No. Never have, never will.”

  “But you know her.”

  “My sister knows her.” He rubbed his chin looking unsure. “There’s something I should tell you. I’m with Flynn.”

  Jodi tenderly cupped the side of his face. “Is that why you wanted me to pretend I didn’t know you? Did you think I’d be upset because you went to work for our rival?” She took both of his hands in hers and smiled up at him. “Of course not. I’m happy for you.” She slid her thumb and forefinger down the lining of his jacket, the expensive material soft against her fingers. “I mean, you must have really made an impression on them to be invited to a function where the president of the company is.” She lowered her voice. “And I know that the clothes make the man, but I’ve noticed you’ve really been spending a lot lately. You didn’t dress like this when you worked with us. Did you come into some money?”

  Dylan pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

  “Then what—”

  “Jodi, is that you!” her mother called out.

  “Yes, Mom
. I’m—”

  “One of the light bulbs is dead in the bathroom and my TV remote won’t work.”

  “It’s probably the batteries.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Never mind,” she called back. “Be right there.” She looked at Dylan. “Just give me a minute, okay?”

  He followed her to the closet. “Who’s that?”

  “My mom,” she said, getting a light bulb from the top shelf. “My parents live in a room down the hall. As you can see, the basement is a separate apartment. We share the kitchen and the living room.” She went into the bathroom.

  He took the bulb from her. “I’ll do this for you. You go change the batteries in the remote.”

  “Thanks.”

  She hurried and got some replacements then changed the batteries. “Mom, I told you where the extras are. When you see the warning image in the corner of the screen you just pop them in.”

  “I didn’t see it.”

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “Taking a nap. You know after he eats a big lunch he gets sleepy.”

  “Did you like the food? I made it.”

  Her mother focused on the TV screen, having lost interest in her. “It was nice.”

  Jodi looked up and saw Dylan. Since her mother’s favorite show was on she knew it was best not to introduce him now. She walked over to him and led him to her bedroom. “I hope you don’t mind but my mother has her routines and she gets upset when they get changed. I’ll introduce you next time.” She gestured to her bed. “You look a little tense. Sit down.”

  He stood at the door and folded his arms. “What is going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How do you know Annette?”

  “She’s my lawyer.”

  Dylan stared at her astonished. “She’s your what?”

  “My lawyer, what’s wrong with you?”

  “How can that…” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” He took off his jacket, resting it over a chair and undid the top button of his shirt. “Start from the beginning.”

  “There’s really not much to say. I met her when I inherited this house. She was very helpful reading and explaining everything to me when I told her about my ‘dyslexia’ and my parents couldn’t be bothered, so she was a great champion with all that needed to be done.”

  He hung his head for a moment then looked at her and said in a low voice, “But if you inherited the house why are you and your parents living in the basement?”

  “It’s part of the will. I get to stay here with my parents as long as we leave the main house free for renters, but right now it’s empty, which is odd.”

  He undid the buttons on his sleeves. “And where does the money go?”

  “Money?”

  “From the renters.”

  “Oh, Annette handles that. She says she has to take care of maintenance, utilities, property taxes and such. It pays for all of that. It is a large house. She’s generous really. My parents and I used to work for the former owner and didn’t know all that went into the particulars of managing this property.”

  He briefly closed his eyes and nodded, rolling up his sleeves. “I see. And the party?”

  “Party?”

  “Why are you helping her with the party?”

  “I only help sometimes when she’s in a crisis. I don’t mind. It only happens a couple times a year so it’s not too tiring…and what are you doing? You look like you’re getting ready to fight.”

  Dylan softly swore and looked down at his sleeves. “Sorry, you’re right,” he said and then pulled them back down.

  Jodi ran her hand over the bedcovers, wondering why he didn’t want to join her. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit down?”

  “Hmm.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  He walked over to her dresser and looked at her row of hardcover cookbooks—some tall and slender others thick and square.

  “I love the pictures in them,” she said, his strange silence making her uneasy.

  He pulled one of the books off the dresser and turned its spine to face her. “And what does it say?”

  She shifted. “I don’t—”

  “Yes, you do. Take your time.”

  “Um…Easy and Fast…Cooking.”

  He slid the book back in place. “Good.”

  She felt the tightening in her chest ease. “The pictures inside are really amazing. I look at some before I go to bed.”

  He nodded. “And one day you want to follow one of the recipes.” He turned to her. “And make me something delicious.”

  She smiled. “Yes, did you like the lime tart?”

  “I don’t like lime.”

  “What do you like?” She waved a finger when he sent her a knowing look. “And don’t say ‘you’.”

  “Why not? It’s true.”

  “At least he liked my banana fritters,” she muttered.

  “Who?”

  “Mr. Flynn.”

  He frowned, confused. “Mr. Flynn?”

  “Yes, the face of Flynn’s Fleets.”

  “You mean Falconer? Malcolm Falconer?”

  She nodded. “That’s right, the owner of Flynn’s Fleets.”

  “I told you he’s not the owner. He’s the president. My grand…understanding of the business is that.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He liked my food.”

  “I’m sure I’ll like it too, but I ate before I got here. I didn’t plan to stay long.”

  “And wanted me to cook for one of their events.” She pulled out his business card. “He even gave me this.”

  Dylan snatched the card and tucked it inside his trouser pocket. “I’ll keep it safe for you.” Before she could protest he said, “I expect you to make a special batch of banana fritters just for me.”

  “Only if you’re taking good care of Gus.”

  “He’s living like a king.” Dylan looked around the room. “I want to see the will.”

  “The original is with the attorney.”

  “But you should have a copy.” When she hesitated, he smiled. “Don’t you trust your boyfriend?”

  “No, it’s not that. I don’t have it.”

  His smile fell. “Of course.”

  Jodi bit her lip wondering if he was unhappy with her reliance on Annette. “She’s taken good care of us. She said it was hard to set everything up because I wasn’t able to do it myself. She didn’t charge extra or anything. She’s been really kind to me. My parents trust me and I trust her and…you’re doing it again. Why do you keep rolling up your sleeves like that? Are you hot?”

  He scratched his chin. “Hmm.”

  “Well, cut it out. It makes you look like a thug.”

  He folded his arms. “Sorry.”

  She smiled at him and softened her tone not wanting him to be upset with her scolding. “I was just as surprised about the will as you are. This house is enormous, but I can’t afford to lose it. Moving is out of the question. My mother doesn’t take change well.”

  “You’re not going to lose the house. I just want to read the conditions and make sure everything is in order.”

  “I don’t have it.”

  Dylan ran a hand down his face.

  “What’s that expression for?”

  He let his hand fall and shook his head. “Nothing.” He picked up his jacket. “Are you going back to the party?”

  “No.” Jodi leaned back with a smile of invitation. “If you wanted to spend a little more time I’m—”

  Dylan put on his jacket. “Good,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken. “Because I have a feelings the party is about to end.”

  18

  “You said you wanted to see me alone?” Annette said, closing the door to the study behind her, her reflection staring back at her in the large window across the room. She rested against the dark oak door and turned to Dylan, who stood in front of her. “You’re looking fierce.” She lightly touched his chest. “It looks good on you.”

 
He placed a hand against the door, his arm next to her head. “You think so?”

  “It’s very sexy.”

  “You’re not afraid?”

  “I like a little danger.”

  He nodded. “I’m glad because somebody’s been a bad girl.”

  “You finally noticed?” she said, trailing a finger along his jaw.

  He slowly blinked.

  “And you’re here to punish me?”

  He nodded again. “I met the owner of this house and she told me about the will.”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “Why would Jodi tell you—?”

  He lifted her chin. “How should I punish this bad girl?”

  Annette held his gaze, trembling at his touch. “I’m sure Jodi didn’t explain everything.”

  “That’s what I thought. So I asked her to let me read the will, but she doesn’t have a copy. Why is that?”

  “She trusts me to handle everything. I’ve taken good care of her and—”

  Dylan pushed away from the door, disgust in his voice. “You don’t take care of anyone but yourself. You’d steal milk from a puppy.”

  Annette clicked her tongue. “Ouch, that’s a bit harsh. I like puppies.”

  “I forgot, it’s people you can’t stand.”

  “Only stupid ones.”

  “Jodi isn’t stupid.”

  Annette took a seat and crossed her legs looking bored.

  “Then you don’t know her very well.”

  “So you admit—”

  She feigned a look of innocence. “I admit nothing.” She smoothed down her skirt annoyed. “What’s this obsession you and Gwen have about this woman?”

  His tone sharpened. “Gwen asked about her?”

  “She saw Jodi talking to Malcolm. We both know she’s a little paranoid.”

  He nodded. “She gets it from me. I sometimes get this feeling that there are people out to hurt the people I care about.”

  She straightened. “Who is Jodi to you?”

  “And this crazy feeling comes over me and I feel I have to do something. Something that will destroy the threat.”

  She surged to her feet. “Dylan, this isn’t funny.”

  “And I start to wonder what I should do first. Should I be swift or slow? What’s the perfect revenge?”