The Right Kind of Crazy (Love, New Orleans Style Book 6)

by Hailey North

  With a sigh of frustration, Sami slipped the aqua print off the hanger and over her head. The matching solid jacket boxed her breasts in a bit and took the eye off the V of the dress’s neckline. She wriggled her feet into a pair of espadrilles, grabbed her purse and keys and rushed to her car.

  She should be excited to see Vonnie rather than fussing at herself for her inability to dress with a personal sense of style. Sami slid behind the wheel of her Honda and headed down the long drive to the gates of the estate. She waited while they opened in their silent glide. The only sound was the voice of her mother in her head, criticizing her wardrobe, criticizing her profession, criticizing her inability to say no to a rescue dog when a purebred made so much better sense.

  She switched on music from her phone to drown the noise in her head and joined the cars heading into downtown Nashville. They were meeting at a new bar near Broadway and West End. Sami found it and left her car with the valet, a move that would prevent the unknown man from offering to walk her to her car. After she tipped the valet, Sami straightened her jacket and said a silent appeal to the goddess of blind dates.

  Please. Please. Please do not let this be a bust. Please let Vonnie, who had known her practically all her life, have made a good choice.

  Sami reached the door just as one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen walked up. He smiled and opened the door.

  “After you,” he said.

  Even his voice was gorgeous. Deep, suave, it matched his elegant dark looks perfectly. He wore an exquisitely tailored dark navy suit, with an open neck dress shirt. Sami stood there, gawking like a tourist at Ryman Auditorium. She could explain to him that ‘ladies first’ was an archaic and sexist gesture, but for once, she didn’t feel at all like delivering a lecture.

  “Please,” he added, a hint of a twinkle in his eye.

  Sami flushed slightly, nodded and walked into the bar, where the space was standing room only. A guitar and piano duo played on a small raised area, but the level of voices all talking at once pretty much drowned out the music.

  “I understand this is the new hot spot,” the man said, leaning over and speaking close to her head.

  Sami nodded.

  “What are you drinking?” he said.

  “Oh,” Sami said, trailing off. What was the protocol? Did she let him buy her a drink while she looked for Vonnie—and for the guy she was meeting? “I’m meeting a friend,” she said.

  He shrugged and made his way toward the bar.

  Well, she’d definitely not made the most of that opportunity. What had Flynn said? She didn’t recognize when a man was attempting to get her attention? Or words to that effect. But it would have been inappropriate for her to accept a drink from one man when there to meet another.

  “Sami!”

  Sami turned around at the sound of Vonnie’s voice. Her friend embraced her. Sami hugged her back.

  “Let me look at you,” Vonnie said, cocking her head to one side. “You look fab. I like what you’ve done with your hair.”

  “It is exactly the same as the last time you saw me,” Sami said. “But thank you. And as always, you look amazing.” And she did. Vonnie was tall and slender and blessed with the athletic grace of a ballerina.

  Vonnie shook her head. “I hope I make it through this remodel nightmare. Did you just get here?”

  Sami nodded. “Is Dr. Carpenter still coming?”

  “Of course. Now don’t get wigged out. Chase is dying to meet you.”

  Sami leaned closer to her friend so she didn’t have to shout to be heard. “The most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen walked in the same time I did. So if Chase doesn’t show up, maybe you can help me out with him.”

  “Honey, go for both of them. Play the field while you can.”

  “You and Michael are still okay, aren’t you?”

  Vonnie laughed. “Of course. It’s just sometimes all the responsibility and routine gets a bit old. And then add on remodeling on top of a two-year-old.”

  Sami nibbled at her bottom lip. She didn’t like to think of Vonnie’s life as anything other than perfect.

  Vonnie caught her arm. “I think I just spotted your Mr. Gorgeous. And is he hot!”

  Sami looked around. The man who’d offered to buy her a drink was gazing into the eyes of a stunning redhead. She had her hand on his forearm and they were lost to any reality other than the existence of one another. Sami sighed. “Oh, well, he’s probably a playboy.”

  Vonnie sighed, too. “Yummy. Who cares?”

  “The last man I want to go out with is a playboy.” Sami heard the vehemence in her voice.

  “Ooh,” Vonnie said. “The bad boys fall hard when they finally fall. Remember Toya’s husband before Toya?”

  Sami nodded. None of them had wanted their friend to date the man she’d ended up marrying. The practiced flirt had turned out to be the most wonderful and devoted husband, and with Toya ordered to bed for the rest of her pregnancy, he was proving himself a saint.

  They were working their way toward the bar when a waitress in a sleek black mini-dress stopped to take their order. Sami opted for white wine, knowing she’d have only one drink. She preferred to buy her own before meeting the mystery man. Vonnie asked for club soda. She must have seen Sami looking a question at her and shook her head.

  “No, thank goodness,” Vonnie said. “I’m not pregnant. But I am on call.”

  “Don’t you want another child?”

  “One is a good number,” Vonnie said. “It worked for you and me.”

  “I was always lonely,” Sami said, surprising herself. Then the image of her mother’s journal flashed in her mind. She really had to finish reading it. What if there was a reason she should not have children? Wasn’t it the right thing to do to face that fact?

  “Hey, don’t look so sad,” Vonnie said. “Here comes Chase.”

  The second most gorgeous man Sami had ever seen was making his way through the crowd. Vonnie waved at him and he flashed a smile.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Sami murmured. Blond hair in a neat crew cut, clean-shaven, broad shoulders. He made the Polo shirt and khakis he wore look like he could do justice to them on a Paris runway. He made his way through the throng with ease, a smile here, a smile there, and then he was greeting Vonnie with a kiss on the cheek. He turned brilliant blue eyes to Sami and smiling, he shook his head.

  “Hello, Sami,” he said. “Vonnie did not do you justice.”

  “Why thank you, I think,” Sami said.

  The waitress delivered their drinks. Vonnie had cash ready. “Chase?”

  “Club soda,” he said. “With lime.”

  “Are you on call also?” Sami said, feeling a bit self-conscious standing there holding a wine glass.

  He nodded. “Fact of life. Vonnie tells me your parents are doctors, so I suppose it goes without saying that you understand the demands and rigors of the profession.”

  Sami nodded. “Most definitely,” she said. “It’s one of the reasons my parents shipped me off to boarding school.”

  Vonnie gave her a look Sami interpreted as a warning not to continue on that topic lest she chase away Chase.

  “You attended boarding school? What a coincidence. I was at Choate.”

  Sami nodded and sipped her wine. She felt wooden, as if she had to force a conversation. Maybe it was the volume of everyone talking and laughing over the background music. It was a feeling she knew only too well. Any moment now she would start lecturing on a topic, a desperate measure to hide she had no idea how to make small talk or how to attract this serious hunk to ask her out.

  “Public school brat here,” Vonnie said. “What do you two think of the Commodores’ chances in the College World Series?”

  Sami eyed her friend, as did Chase. Then she looked at Chase and found him studying her. She shrugged. “Isn’t the World Series in the fall?”

  Chase’s club soda arrived. After he paid for it, he said, “I believe Vonnie is referring to Vanderbilt’s base
ball team. But baseball is not my sport.”

  “Oh,” Sami said. “What is?”

  “Sailing and polo,” Chase said.

  “We’ve gone on his boat several times,” Vonnie said. “It’s fabulous. And so relaxing out on the water.”

  “I enjoy swimming,” Sami said. Sailing and polo. Choate. A doctor. A gorgeous blond doctor. If Sami managed to make it past the first and second date hurdle, Nathalie and Emile would want to adopt this man.

  “When’s the first pool party at your parents’ house?” Vonnie said.

  Sami shook her head. She’d yet to share with Vonnie what had happened. “There have been a few changes,” Sami said.

  Chase reached into a pocket of his slacks and drew out his phone. “Duty calls,” he said, sounding more eager than disappointed. “I’m needed at the hospital.” He drained his glass. “Sami, please tell me you’ll let me make this interruption up to you. Dinner tomorrow night?”

  “Oh, well, why, that would be…”

  “Presumptuous of me, I realize,” he said. “Pick you up at seven?” He put his phone away, leaned over and brushed a kiss across her cheek, then did the same to Vonnie. “Please give her my number.”

  He turned and disappeared through the crowd.

  “He liked you,” Vonnie said. “Really liked you.”

  “I don’t know,” Sami said. “He’s handsome. And quite polished.”

  “And perfectly eligible,” Vonnie said. “Plus he’s not a playboy.” She wrinkled her nose. “If anything, he’s a workaholic.”

  “I suppose I am, too,” Sami said.

  “Blonde, beautiful workaholics,” Vonnie said. “Perfect match.”

  Sami mustered a smile. Dating was such hard work. She wished dating could be as easy as driving with Flynn from New Orleans. She hadn’t once felt stymied for what to say.

  But then, she wasn’t trying to date Flynn.

  Maybe she did try too hard.

  To be perfect.

  “You’ve got that sad look again,” Vonnie said. “Let’s get out of here and go somewhere we can talk without shouting.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Flynn felt like an idiot. Worse yet, he was an idiot. He’d rushed through his business on the West Coast. Ignoring how much he detested flying, he turned around in record time to board a flight to Nashville, rented a car, and raced to the estate, assuming Sami would be there and the two of them could go out for dinner. After all, he was responsible for her being there and it seemed the right thing to make sure she’d settled in.

  Only to find Sami nowhere around. According to Kyle and William, she’d mentioned a dinner date and asked if it was okay to leave the dogs out. What did he expect? Saturday night was not the time a beautiful babe like Sami should be sitting home alone.

  Flynn paced around his Hertz rental, paused to kick the tires and continued on his march. Kyle had offered to let Flynn into the apartment, since he knew they were friends, but that seemed an invasion of privacy to Flynn.

  He whistled and called the dogs for the third or fourth time. The Lab bounded toward him from the woods, the Corgi in hot pursuit. Flynn smiled, pretty much for the first time that day. Then the beagle padded up, his tongue hanging out. Flynn didn’t know about Sami, but the dogs had settled in just fine.

  Maybe he’d write a note. Head to the Hilton. Why hadn’t he gotten her phone number? Flynn shook his head, sighing at his unusual inept handling. He hunted in his carry-on for a notepad and stood, nibbling on the end of his pen. The Lab dashed away and returned with a ball, which she presented to Flynn with a happy wag of her tail. Flynn put the notebook and pen down and answered the “please play with me” summons.

  He’d been tossing the ball about fifteen minutes when he realized the sky was losing its evening light. He sure as hell didn’t want to be caught hanging out there if Sami returned with her date.

  Flynn frowned.

  He picked up his pen.

  The Corgi started barking and raced toward the long drive.

  Sami’s Honda rounded the curve.

  Flynn slipped his pen and notepad back into his leather carry-on. He wasn’t much of a writer. The car stopped, pursued by the Corgi. Sami opened the door and all three dogs ran towards her.

  She stepped out. Alone. She looked around and it seemed for the first time she realized another vehicle was parked outside the garage. She turned, the expression on her face full of sadness. Flynn looked more closely.

  Damn if she didn’t look like she’d been crying.

  “Flynn?”

  He walked toward her. “I was in the neighborhood.”

  “I believe you are stretching the truth,” she said, but seemed a shade less sad. She greeted her dogs, accepted the tennis ball from Shelby, but didn’t toss it. “Would you like to come in?”

  “Sure,” Flynn said. “Thought I’d see how the place is working out for you.” He wanted to ask her why she seemed in a funk, but decided not to launch into the ‘how was your date?’ question. For Flynn, it was good she’d returned fairly early. For Sami, no doubt the date had been one of her disaster scenarios.

  Upstairs, Sami pointed to a cabinet near the kitchen. “I discovered that piece holds a fully stocked bar. Please help yourself.” She gave him a slight smile and indicated her dress and jacket. “I’m going to find something more relaxing to wear.”

  “Fix you something?” Flynn strolled toward the bar. The dress and jacket needed not only to be removed from Sami, but banished from her wardrobe completely. The outfit looked like an old-style flight attendant uniform, except that it hung like a sack. She didn’t resemble the siren she’d been wearing Jonni’s slinky black number or the babe in the sheer shirt who’d shared the road trip from New Orleans.

  “Whatever you’re having,” she said and headed down the hall to the bedrooms. All three dogs padded behind her.

  Flynn studied the bottles. What he wanted to study was Sami, stripped free of her unflattering dress, naked and willing in his arms. He’d kiss away any hint of sorrow. Before she knew it, she’d forget all about whatever dating disaster she’d suffered.

  None of that would matter.

  All that would count would be pleasure.

  Flynn grabbed at a bottle from the bar. He had to stop picturing Sami naked. She was not his kind of woman.

  “Then what in the hell are you doing here?”

  “Excuse me?” Sami said from somewhere behind his right shoulder. “Did you ask me a question?”

  Flynn turned around, bottle held high. “Grey Goose good by you?”

  She wore khaki shorts and a camisole, with the same sheer shirt over it, flowing loose, not buttoned. Her feet were bare. She looked ten years younger than she had in that wreck of a dress. And ten times sexier.

  “I’ve never had a grey goose, but I’m open to the experience,” she said.

  Open. Flynn swallowed hard. Sami was an alluring package, a package that should be wrapped in Caution tape, sporting a tag that read “Do Not Touch, Flynn Lawrence.” “It’s vodka,” he said. “My favorite brand.” One drink and he’d leave. Head to the downtown nightlife scene. Find a woman who’d drive Sami Pepper from his mind.

  Sami mustered a smile for Flynn, happy for the good fortune that he’d turned up at a time she desperately needed to be distracted from her feelings of failure. Her dinner date with Dr. Chase Carpenter had not been a success. “Then I’m sure it’s perfect,” she said and walked over to the sofa facing the broad windows, sat down, and curled her feet under her.

  She watched as he filled a metal container with ice, measured in vodka, and shook the container. “Did you learn that technique from James Bond movies?”

  He grinned at her. “More like from the school of life.”

  Sami sighed. “We certainly attended different schools. Do you know I’ve never had a martini?” She paused. “That is a martini you’re concocting, isn’t it?”

  He nodded, pulled two glasses from the bar, and poured the drinks. �
��Sorry for the room temp glasses.” He carried the glasses to the sofa, handed one to her and joined her.

  Sami took a tiny sip and wrinkled her nose. “The scent is interesting.”

  Flynn tasted his drink. “Ah,” he said. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

  Sami grimaced. “Not the doctor I had dinner with.”

  “Oh?” Flynn took another swallow, and then set his glass on the side table. “Want to tell me about it?”

  Sami considered his offer. She sipped her drink. “This tastes better after the initial shock wears off,” she said. “I’m inclined to do so,” she said. “You may be able to provide me with the male point of view.”

  “Perhaps?” Flynn stretched an arm along the back of the sofa. “Honey, there’s no question about that.”

  Sami giggled. “Oh, that’s not what I meant. I mean, please give me your insights into what I will describe to you. It’s not as scientific as a questionnaire, naturally, but any feedback you provide I will appreciate.”

  Flynn nodded and kicked off his shoes. “Consider me yours.”

  Flynn’s fingertips brushed the back of her shoulder in a way that made it hard for her to concentrate. Or perhaps that was the goose. She set her drink on the coffee table and sat half-facing Flynn. She had difficulty thinking with precision whenever Flynn touched her, no matter how casual the contact.

  “Vonnie set me up with the perfect date.” She lifted one hand and ticked off Chase’s attributes. “A doctor. Excellent academic credentials. Well-respected by his colleagues. Single, never married, as in he is not rebounding from a bad divorce. Looking for an intellectually equal partner.”

  Flynn reached for his drink. After a sip, he said, “Are we talking about a date or a job interview?”

  “In some ways, the two fulfill the same purpose.”

  Flynn choked.

  Sami leaned over and patted him on the back.

  He waved her off, took another swallow and returned the glass to the table. “Don’t you ever just go out to have fun?”