When things settled down for her, once she proved to herself and her family that she could make it in the music industry, then she’d find some boy-next-door type that was good for her. Like vegetables.
A lima-bean boyfriend. Yum.
His dark blue eyes gazed warmly at her.
She absolutely, positively needed boy next door. Later. In the distant future.
But wouldn’t that be exactly what he was if she took the apartment? Literally, boy, no, she corrected herself, nothing about Gabe said boy. He was the man next door. She swallowed hard. Gabe was definitely not her lima bean and this was definitely not the right time. She repeated the mantra to herself so she wouldn’t be tempted. Not my lima bean, not my lima bean—
“Zoe?”
“Huh? What?”
“I said do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?”
She forced a smile. “A friendly cup of coffee?”
“Is there any other kind?”
“Good point.” Fred barked. “Can I bring Fred?”
Gabe eyed her fur baby. “Uh, sure.”
Zoe followed Gabe up the back steps and stomped her boots on the mat. “You should probably get a towel for Fred,” she said when they got inside.
Fred took that opportunity to shake all the snow off him and onto the hardwood floor.
“Two towels,” Gabe said.
She grabbed Fred’s collar to keep him in place while they waited. Gabe’s kitchen was gorgeous—white cabinets, dark gray soapstone counters, stainless steel appliances, double oven, six-burner Viking range. It was also spotless.
Gabe returned and handed her a towel. She dried off Fred while Gabe dried off the hardwood floor. Fred shook one more time, just enough to get Gabe wet. “Thanks,” he muttered. He stood and held out his hand. “I’ll take your coat.”
She stuffed the hat in the sleeve, handed it to him, and left her boots on the mat. He left, and she sat at the kitchen island to wait.
“So, coffee?” he asked when he returned.
He’d changed into a Henley that emphasized a broad-shouldered, definitely muscular chest. Her heart thumped a little harder. Fight impulsive nature. Be strong, girl!
“You changed your shirt,” she croaked.
He looked at her strangely. “Fred got it wet.”
“Oh.” She rubbed her icy cold hands together. “Coffee sounds perfect.”
He went about making coffee in some fancy machine with way too many buttons and switches.
“You’re really into your coffee, huh?” she asked.
“I got spoiled with Shane’s coffee, so he set me up at home.”
“Your kitchen’s beautiful. Do you cook?”
He looked around and smiled sheepishly. “Never. I hired a decorator. I should learn, huh?”
“If you like cooking, this place could be a lot of fun.”
“Not much point in cooking for one. All that leftover food.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” She glanced around. “Wait, where’s Fred?” It was never good when Fred sneaked off somewhere. “Fred! C’mere, boy.”
Fred trotted out with her boot in his mouth. “No,” she told him sternly. “Leave it.”
Fred took off. She chased him into a living room with lots of leather furniture, wood tables, and industrial metal lamps. Some black-and-white pictures of the moon in different phases hung on the wall. Fred leaped on the leather loveseat. “Off!” she hollered.
He leaped off. She chased him around the coffee table, and he leaped on the sofa. Keeshonds were jumpers. “Fred!”
Gabe appeared. “Leave it,” he commanded in a tone that had her straightening up. Fred dropped the boot and looked to Gabe for the next command. Clearly, Fred thought Gabe was the alpha here.
She called Fred, and he trotted over to her side. “You’ve got the voice of authority,” she said, rubbing Fred behind the ear. “Even I was ready to obey.”
Gabe lifted a brow. “Oh, yeah?”
She flushed. “Must be an older brother thing. I’m the youngest, so I’m used to being bossed around.”
He gave her a slow smile. “And I’m used to doing the bossing.”
The gleam in his eye had her backing up a step. She bumped into Fred, who had circled around behind her when she wasn’t looking. “Ah!” She stumbled and was about to fall backward when Gabe reached out, grabbing her arm, and she fell forward instead, bumping into his chest.
“Easy,” he said.
“I am easy,” she chirped.
He chuckled. That hadn’t come out right.
“I mean, I’m relaxed.” She straightened. He still held her, his hands on her upper arms, warm and firm. “You can, um, let go now.”
“Let’s get you warmed up,” he said, snagging her boot in one hand and placing his other hand on the small of her back as he guided her back toward the kitchen. Holy cow. One hand, and she was burning up. Imagine what two hands could do.
Fred trotted ahead of them and pressed himself against the cold glass of the back patio door. He loved the cold.
Gabe set her boot back on the mat and returned to the kitchen, pouring them both a cup of coffee. He leaned against the island across from her, holding his mug and studying her.
She self-consciously smoothed her hair. She probably had hat head. “What?”
“How have I never spent any time with you?” he asked. “You grew up here, right?”
“Yes. I know your brother Luke, but you were too far ahead of me in school to bother with.” She took a sip of coffee. Wow, that was good. She sipped some more. She loved Shane’s coffee.
He sipped his coffee too. “Did you move back home after college?”
“Never made it to college. I was learning so much from my vocal instructor and, well, playing in Greenwich Village was an education all on its own.” Greenwich Village was her favorite part of New York City. “It’s like a Mecca for jazz musicians. People from all over the world play at the clubs there. But the city was too expensive, so I moved back home and became a commuter.” She laughed ruefully. “Like most everyone else.”
“I used to live in the city too, but I never hung out in the Village.”
“More of an uptown guy, huh?” She grinned. “I got you pegged with your preppy outfits and your fancy schmancy job.”
He chuckled. “What do you know about my fancy schmancy job?”
“Not much. Tell me about it.”
She sipped her coffee while Gabe told her about wealthy clients, high-profile cases, and the need to always win. The hard focus on the bottom line, the insane hours, and the burnout that eventually got them all.
“Wow,” she said when he’d wound down. “I guess you don’t miss it, then?” And do you miss your fiancée? Did you really bail because she had a brain tumor? She was having trouble believing it from the guy who so generously offered her an apartment rent-free. She shouldn’t listen to gossip. She wouldn’t bring up such a painful memory as his fiancée’s death. It was none of her business. Not unless something happened between them, which it definitely wouldn’t.
“Don’t miss it at all.” He sipped his coffee. “I want to hear more about your career. You sing beautifully.”
“Thank you.”
“I can’t believe you don’t have a recording contract,” he went on, which thrilled her, until he continued. “You’re much too talented to be stuck playing small-town dances.”
She lifted her chin. “I like small-town dances, especially when it’s my small town.” The familiar burn of ambition returned, making her restless. She had to make something happen soon. For so long she’d been chasing that dream, and it wasn’t any closer now than it was twelve years ago. Unlike her family, who’d all had their big break young. Her mom had been an actress in several popular movies in her twenties, her dad was a jazz pianist and singer in The Davis Trio and booked The Pete Macauley Show at twenty-five, and her sister, Jasmine, scored her first Broadway show as a dancer at nineteen. It was way past time for her.
>
“Surely you want more,” Gabe said, somehow sensing her true feelings.
She warmed her hands on the mug, suddenly depressed. “Maybe some things just aren’t meant to be,” she said quietly.
“Maybe. But what about your L.A. gig? Maybe that will lead to something.”
She met his eyes. “It’s to be a contestant on Next American Voice. If I won, the contract isn’t great. Everyone in the industry knows that. It’s kind of limiting, especially for someone like me that also writes my own songs.”
“Still, it’s something,” he said. “At least people would know who you are. They should know you. You’re amazing.”
She met his dark blue eyes that looked back at her with such sincerity that she found herself confiding in him. Something she hadn’t had the nerve to say out loud yet to anyone.
“This doesn’t leave this room,” she started.
“Lawyer-client confidentiality,” he said with a straight face, his eyes sparkling in amusement. “Got it.”
“I’ve been thinking about renting studio time and doing my own album. You know, just go indie.”
His palm slapped the counter. “You should. That’s a great way to get noticed. Hell, even a YouTube video could lead to something.”
She frowned. YouTube was for amateurs. Her dad always said that. She came from a family of professionals.
“Everyone in my family has been a success in the arts,” she told him. “Everyone but me, that is. I don’t know if going indie would count, you know?”
“It only matters if it counts for you.”
She stared at the counter. “I guess.”
“So your sister danced on Broadway and your dad’s band was on The Pete Macauley Show.” Everyone in town knew about her family.
“And my mom was in the movies, the Eye on Top trilogy.” It was a lot to live up to. Not that her family ever acted like she was a failure, but the fact was she was still just a waitress scrambling for gigs, and they all knew it.
“You have good show-business genes,” Gabe said, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t forge your own path.”
“Is that what you did?”
He didn’t answer for a moment. Finally he said, “No. I followed in my father’s footsteps, climbing that corporate track to partner as fast as I could, until he died of a heart attack at fifty-seven. That was a wake-up call. I quit. I’ve been practicing law here ever since.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure why I’m still here. I’m just killing time, I guess. I can’t believe four years passed so quickly while I solved the case of the smashed mailbox.”
She laughed. “The what?”
“Mr. Jacobs’s case of the anonymous mailbox basher—never mind.” He grinned.
“Say no more.” She raised a hand. “Mr. Jacobs says it all. What are you passionate about?”
“Passionate?” he drawled.
She felt herself flush. “I mean—” She cleared her throat. “You have to find what you’re passionate about and follow your bliss.”
“Like you?”
“Yeah.” She frowned. “And here we are in the same place.” Guess her grand plan of following her bliss hadn’t worked out any better than Gabe’s lack of a plan, and wasn’t that depressing?
He reached out and squeezed her hand. “Hey, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
“Uh…” The tingling was back. Not my lima bean, not my lima bean. Fred ran by with something shiny in his mouth. “Fred!” Gabe released her hand, and she headed for Fred, prying Gabe’s cell phone from Fred’s mouth.
She scolded Fred, who looked back at her with his happy panting face. She handed Gabe the phone. “Sorry.”
“That was brand new,” he muttered. They both looked at the screen that was cracked in several places. It was one of those big expensive phone tablet thingies. The edges were chewed off too.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ll buy you a new one just as soon as I get the money. We’d better go.” She grabbed Fred and headed for her coat in a hurry.
Gabe appeared where she was busy yanking her coat on while she tried desperately to hang onto a pulling Fred, who wanted to explore more of Gabe’s house.
Gabe took Fred’s leash. “So are you going to take the apartment?”
She avoided his eyes, instead focusing on Fred, who looked lovingly up at Gabe. Geez, even her dog was falling for him. “Let me think it over,” she said. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay.” He handed her Fred’s leash and walked them to the front door. “Bye.”
“Bye,” she called over her shoulder, already out the door. “Thanks for the coffee!”
She hurried to her car, buckled Fred in, and headed home, feeling like she’d dodged a big gorgeous snowball.
Only to get one in the face when she arrived home. A bright yellow eviction notice was taped to her front door.
Chapter Four
Zoe pounded on John’s door, eviction notice in hand.
The door swung open, and John looked her up and down. “Yeah?”
She shook the notice in his face. “What is this?”
He shrugged.
“By the end of the week?” she shouted. “What the hell? How am I supposed to be packed, moved, and find a new place in one week? You could at least have given me to the end of the month! Would two weeks have killed you? I already paid this month’s rent.”
John turned away and flopped on his sofa, picking up his video game controller. She followed him in, grabbed the remote, and turned off the TV.
“Hey!” He snatched the remote out of her hand and got in her face. He smelled like beer and nacho cheese. “Law’s on my side. You broke the rules with your dumb dog.”
She was so mad she wanted to spit in his face. She headed for the door. “I’m calling my lawyer!”
“Go for it,” John said.
She left, slamming the door behind her. Great. Now she had no choice but to take up Gabe on his offer. She couldn’t stay with her parents because her mom was allergic to dogs. Couldn’t stay with her sister because she already had a cat and a baby. She didn’t want to add to the chaos over there. She marched back to her apartment, hating the position this put her in. She still wasn’t so sure about Gabe. She’d ask Daisy about him. If anyone knew the scoop on Gabe, it was Daisy. Gabe was close with the O’Hare family, and Daze was one of them ever since she married Trav.
When she got home, she let Fred out of his crate and spent a long time petting him and getting some love. Fred always seemed to sense when she needed comfort and leaned against her in his form of a doggy hug. After she’d calmed down, she called Daisy, who told her to come over after lunch because talking on the phone was impossible when her boys were running around.
A short while later, Zoe rang the bell at Daisy’s house. It was a brand-new addition with a separate entrance from the original house that her husband, Trav, still used for his landscaping company. Daisy answered the door with four-year-old Bryce and two-year-old Cole at her side. The boys wore knitted monster hats over their blond hair. Bryce had Daze’s blue eyes while Cole had hazel eyes like his daddy. Bryce was the mischievous instigator while the more mellow, easygoing Cole did his best to keep up.
“Daisy and her little flowers!” Zoe exclaimed.
“We’re not fwowers!” an indignant Bryce said.
“Yeah!” Cole chimed in, bobbing his head, making the ear flaps wiggle.
“You must be monsters, then,” Zoe said. “Grrrr!”
“Roar!” Trav said from behind them. Both boys shrieked and took off. Trav grinned, hazel eyes sparkling with glee. Clearly, Bryce got his mischievous streak from his daddy. “Hey, Zoe, gotta run.” He took off after the boys, his arms straight out in front of him, his hands grabbing the air.
“Hey, Z!” Daze was gorgeous as ever—long, wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a sunny smile. She still had her figure and showed it off in a form-fitting white V-neck long-sleeve tee, jeans, and ankle boots. Daze gave her a big hug. “Come
in. What’s up?”
“I’m moving!” Zoe exclaimed.
Daze frowned. “Oh, no. Did he really go through with the eviction?” Zoe nodded, and Daze gestured to follow her to the kitchen. “Wait. Let me get the chips and drinks, and then you can tell me the whole story.”
Zoe relaxed a little. Daze always had the potato chips she loved from the health food store. They were organic, so they both felt better about finishing the bag. She sat at the breakfast nook with its wraparound bench. Daze joined her a few minutes later with the bag of chips and two glasses of water.
Daze pulled out a handful of chips. “Okay, talk. Where are you moving?”
“Gabe Reynolds offered his place. So…” She lifted a shoulder up and down.
“His house?”
“He has a studio apartment over the garage with a fenced-in yard for Fred.” She paused, knowing Daze would morph into big-sister mode at this next part. Her friend was seven years older, so they hadn’t known each other in school, but when Daze heard a young girl from Clover Park was booking gigs in the city, she’d invited eighteen-year-old Zoe to stay over at her apartment whenever she had a late-night gig. They were close, even more so when Daze moved back to Clover Park, which was great, except Zoe was no longer a naive eighteen-year-old, and she already had a big sister on her back.
Zoe continued. “He says I can stay there for free, but of course I’ll pay something for rent. I’ll probably say yes. I should just do it, right?”
Daze’s eyes widened. “Rent free? Are you two—”
“I know what it sounds like, but…” She took a sip of water, thinking about Gabe, and what exactly were his intentions with the offer of a rent-free place? “He’s just being a friend,” she finished lamely.
At Daze’s concerned expression, Zoe flashed a big smile to put her at ease.
Restless Harmony Page 4