Madam Mom

by Lynda Rees

  Sam talked about his brother and sisters and reminisced about high school and college football. “I was approached to play professionally but didn’t pursue it. My passion for business, finance and making money grow fascinates me. I enjoy being part of the family business and following Dad’s footsteps.”

  “I’ve done the opposite, though it would’ve pleased Mom, had I moved back here and worked with her.”

  “Why aren’t you married? You’re a catch, Tisha McClain.” His dimples accented his tanned cheeks, showing he like the outdoors.

  She shrugged off the irritation thinking of Simon caused. “I’m coming off a breakup. A couple of years in, I caught him cheating.” The ass was married.

  “What kind of fool would cheat on you? He must be out of his mind. You’re an amazing woman and should be treasured.” Sam gently stroked her hand with a finger. The unbearable sensation sent quivers of anticipation across her skin.

  She shrugged clearing her head. “What about you? Where’s your wife?” Tisha retrieved her hand concentrating on eating.

  “I haven’t met a woman who’d have me.” She enjoyed his deep, guttural laugh. He should do it more.

  “Come now. You’re good-looking, smart, and have an impressive career. Surely the women flock to you.” She wagged a finger between them.

  “I’m no monk, but no saint either. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve had girlfriends. I date. As you know already, my sisters constantly try fixing me up, but I haven’t had a serious relationship since college.”

  “Don’t worry, Sam. I never pictured you as a saint.” Her laughter filled with good-natured joking. “Women like bad boys. You should be popular, Sam.” Her head cocked; and she eyed him skeptically, raising a brow. “You’re sweet.”

  A melancholy moan seeped from his mouth. “Don’t call me sweet. To a man it’s aligned with, let’s be friends, a relationship killer next to sainthood, maybe worse. I’m not a player, but guys don’t like the friend category. Men strive to be lovers.” Sam shook his head laughing, like he wanted to wash his hands of the discussion.

  “You’re a decent lover. I have to admit. I could call you adorable instead of sweet.” She teased, pushing for all its worth.

  Sam threw his hands in the air in surrender. “Heavens NO, I’ll take sweet. Don’t go to adorable. Adorable means you think of me as brother. I don’t have a chance in hell.” Sam winked sideways. “So I’m a fabulous lover. Huh?”

  Tisha rolled her eyes heavenward laughing then dug into her lasagna, clearly not going to comment.

  “Seriously though, I’ve never been in love, not the marrying kind. Being with a woman has been for fun and companionship. No one wants to be alone even if you aren’t with the one—being with someone helps.”

  Their eyes met as they ate. “I get it. It’s been much the same with me.” Her honest words came too raw to admit with bravado. Armor she’d diligently erected wasn’t foolproof. Sam weaved his way between strands into the heart of things with minimal effort. She was practiced at deflection, but he affected her.

  “I’ve enjoyed our time together, Sam. Thanks for dinner.” She rose as he held her chair.

  With a casual air Sam rested a hand against the small of her back as he escorted her to their ride. “How about we go out again tomorrow and listen to music? What do you like, jazz, country, rock, or rap?”

  “I like all kinds of music. It sounds fun. I’ll clear it with Gran and let you know tomorrow. I’d like to see where you partied while in college at NKU. Take me somewhere you hung out and show me who you are, buddy boy.” She hoped her teasing manner covered her desperate longing for more time with him.

  “You’ll be sorry you asked.” Sam’s laughter filled his chest and reverberated across the small space between them.

  Sam parked beside her vehicle in the lot. He trotted around the Camry and opened her door then accepted the keys from her, opened her car door and started the engine for her. Stepping out of the auto facing her, his hands snugged the lapel of her coat close, pulling the collar up. His brilliant smile flashed before he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. A trail of tiny kisses placed against her nose ended with their mouths close. She swallowed his breath as her lips parted. Her heart pounded like a hammer against her chest into his hands resting on the multiple layers of clothing between them and her skin.

  “Goodnight, Tisha. It’s been amazing, spending this time with you. I can hardly wait for tomorrow evening. I can see you again.” Instead of making a tiny dip to kiss her lips, he planted another sweet one on her forehead. She exhaled heavily as she slid behind the wheel. He waited making sure she left safely.

  Tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 12

  Tisha came down for breakfast and found Gran reading the paper, sipping coffee. “Have fun, dear?” She folded and put it aside.

  “Absolutely, Sam treated me to Pompilios’ delectable dining. We had fun.” Tisha happily shared excitement, knowing Gran approved.

  “Well, of course. Did you sleep with him? She grinned wickedly.

  “Lordy, Gran, you’re a case.” The heat from a blush rushed to her cheeks.

  “Dear, an old gal like me doesn’t sleep much. Did lilt in your step mean you got some honey?”

  “Gran, I’m sorry to disappoint you—but, no. We didn’t sleep together, but we’re going dancing tonight, if you don’t mind.” Should she apologize?

  “I don’t mind at all, dear. Sam’s an exceptional young man, and you’re a grown woman. Make your own decisions. It isn’t my place to approve or disapprove. I have no intention of interfering or standing in the way of your love life. You’re young and should enjoy yourself. If it had been me, I’d have taken the sweet thang to bed.” Her brows wagged wickedly.

  Confiding in Gran felt satisfying instead of awkward. “I like Sam—a lot. He’s good to me. It scares me.”

  “Good, and don’t fear, darling. Dig in and enjoy it. Let it unfold naturally. You need and deserve a good man. Sam could be the one.”

  Gram exhibited no concern for what in Tisha’s mind felt like a weighty subject. They could’ve been discussing a car or vacation. The old gal was full of surprises. No wonder Tisha loved her deeply.

  “Thanks for the advice Gran. I have a dubious history with men. Mostly I’ve run into players. Then Simon deceived me, which makes me question myself. An affair with Sam will end in heartache like the rest, but I may give it a whirl. I’m certainly enjoying his company. We’ll see where it goes.”

  “Yes, dear, do it. You’re only young once and need to kick up your heels and expand your horizons. Have fun. Enjoy life. It’s more fun sharing it with someone. Sam might be the man to do it with. He’d better treat you well, or he’ll answer to me.” She laughed, though dead serious.

  “You may be right. Sam seems exceptionally decent. He’ll treat me right, regardless. You’re kind of intimidating. He’ll stay on your good side.”

  Gran busted into a hearty laughter. The idea of a man fearing her suited Gran well. “Good, I like to keep ‘em guessing.”

  Tisha’s insides grumbled as her breakfast churned dreading sitting across a desk from Sam, yet anxious to spend time with him outside of business. On one hand she longed to see him, but dreaded it worse than a dental work, and she hated the dentist. She needed to maintain a professional demeanor—difficult with delicious memories of his strong muscles beneath her palms. His scent alive in her mind with his flavor, she could hardly wait anticipating their date. He’d wrap those honed arms around her again as they danced.

  She smiled like a fool at the oddest times thinking of their tryst at the airport and their enjoyable time the previous evening. They’d come a long way and gotten closer than she’d hoped for in such a short time. Her reaction to Sam differed from the norm. It scared but thrilled her. Gran was right. This might be more than a short-term fling. She’d decided to entertain the idea, anyway.

  Gran had a full day planned with Ms. Nelson preparing for the move to the retiremen
t village tagging belongings for the movers coming the next day. Tisha left Gran in good hands with a long to-do-list.

  Tisha had enough of her own to do, intending to inspect Mom’s properties. Her itinerary would keep her on schedule. Starting at the art gallery she would make her way toward home. She’d be glad to get this over with and wanted to get home early enough to spend time with Gran before dinner.

  Before her first appointment Tisha called Kelle. “So what’s up Gal?” Her light and cheery voice assured Tisha.

  “Hey, lady, everything is fine here. What’s up with you? I detect a difference in your voice. You must’ve gotten laid.”

  “You devil. You hone in on my mood well. No. I did, however, have dinner with Sam last evening.” Kelle’s powers of perception never ceased to amaze.

  “I hear it in your tone. Airport—funeral Sam?”

  “Yes. He invited me to dinner after our business meeting.” Their joint laughter rang joyously.

  “And?”

  “We’re going dancing tonight.”

  “Hot damn, girl. Way to go. I liked the looks of the boy, but not him misleading you.”

  “As it turns out, he didn’t. He didn’t recognize me as his new client.”

  Kelle laughed hard and spat at the phone. “Honey, I’m happy for you. Nothing’s happening here at the shop. Don’t worry about a thing. Go get you some loving from the adorable fella. Then bring the fine man home. I’ve got to meet him.”

  “Thanks, Kelle, but I’m not sure where this will lead, or if it will last. But I’m open to options. I’m going to enjoy myself and see where it leads.” Kelle had a way of making her heart light. “Call me if you need me.”

  “I’ve got your number. Thanks for checking in. See you soon—and, Tisha, I’m proud of you for getting back out there.”

  “Thanks. I’m lucky to have you in my life. I love you dearly, gal.” Tisha hung up ready for business.

  The well-timed gallery stop at nine thirty would get Tisha out before it got busy without disrupting the operation. Tisha liked Sara. She’d been a good friend and manager for Mom. Ten years Mom’s junior, the tall, lanky woman with straight, blonde hair loosely hanging to her waist, had a kind, laughing blue eyes that sparkled. She did often. She eagerly reached for a hug instead of a hand shake. Tisha welcomed the intimacy, admiring Sara and knowing how close she and Roberta had been.

  “Tisha, baby, I’m sorry for your loss. I know how close you and Roberta were. She talked about you constantly and was very proud.” Sara smiled with an arm draped across Tisha’s shoulders.

  “Thank you. I don’t know what to do without her.”

  “Well, I know you will miss her. But your Mom raised you right. You’re a strong, smart, independent woman. She died knowing you could take care of yourself.” Sara’s words brought needed comfort, considering she knew Roberta better than most. They discussed business over coffee with Sara explaining she’d love to remain at the gallery. Tisha couldn’t see it otherwise.

  They created a plan for the gallery, for the next year and discussed how they’d work together, agreeing on a strategy to grow the business. The gallery was in good shape and in capable hands. They work well together. Tisha promised to consider Sara’s request to purchase the gallery and building. She considered making Sara a partner and made a note to run it by Sam and Andrew.

  Next she stopped at the riverboat restaurant. The parking lot needed work. It needed additional security lighting. She made notes to have fixtures installed and pavement repaired.

  She glanced from her notebook. A large, black sedan drove into the nearly empty lot. Sunlight glare caused her to blink. The vehicle suspiciously circled her car. She finally got a look at the driver. She didn’t recognize the large, balding man who appeared to be a common thug. Carlo Tallarigo occupied the passenger seat. With a brief nod of his head, they continued and exited the lot.

  For a few minutes Tisha tried to still her nerves and calm her trembling hands. An eerie sizzle crept over her. With it came an urge to get out of the open into the boat. She grabbed her things, locked her vehicle, and sprang across the gangplank. Looking over her shoulder she saw nothing but her lone car in the empty customer lot.

  A hostess escorted her through a kitchen past an apron-clad staff chopping, washing dishes and cooking for a lunch crowd expected soon after opening. The restaurant owner worked in a small office with porthole windows. The short balding man in his forties extended a hand, which she shook. Back from turtleneck to shoes complimented his slim frame. He offered a seat as his jolly, round face and toothy smile welcomed her. She liked him instantly.

  The boat’s location on the Ohio River, a quirky place for a restaurant, made it different from most in the area. Key to his success, along with delectable food and superb service drawing customers from Kentucky and Ohio, the owner wanted to stay.

  The waterway divided Ohio and Kentucky. The restored paddle-style riverboat permanently docked near the Purple People Bridge on the Kentucky side, near bungee jumping from a bridge landing. Cincinnati, on the Ohio side and Newport and Covington on the Kentucky side, positioned close to Newport-On-The-Levy, a popular night spot for locals from both states, drew the same heavy crowd frequenting Riverboat Row. Close enough, people parked at the Levy and strolled across the bridge to concerts, football or baseball games. Naturally they stopped for food or drinks before or after. The area had a lot to offer, including river and city views, the aquarium, a movie theatre, a concert hall, Cincinnati’s Serpentine Wall, and a riverfront park. Clubs of all types, a comedy theatre and duck-boat rides available. Summer concerts and festivals reigned on both sides of the river.

  Taking off after opening a year ago, he did not want to lose the splendid location, concerned Tisha might sell the boat or raising his rent. Such a change would burden his strive for success, not yet above water financially and afraid to take on more cost at this time.

  Tisha did not intend to toss him out. She decided not to sell unless in the future he wanted to buy it. She’d entertain an offer. She explained her plans to fix the lot and other renovations. She left the manager satisfied and her pleased to have him as a tenant.

  As she finalized each of her mom’s business affairs, Tisha felt lighter and freer. Making progress at this rate she could leave for home early the following week. She winced at the deadline. Would it mean saying goodbye to Sam? She didn’t look forward to it.

  She’d done enough for one day. The lot filled with customers as she left. Carlo Tallarigo’s car nowhere in sight, she headed home. Early dinner with Gran and she’d have plenty of time to prepare for her evening with Sam. She’d wanted him to kiss her last night, but he didn’t. Smarter than her, he realized they needed to get acquainted before hopping into the sack again.

  Surely tonight he would kiss her. If he wanted her as much as she did him, they’d end up in bed together. Her panties wet from imagining where the evening should end.

  CHAPTER 13

  Brushing her teeth preparing for her evening with Sam, the doorbell chimed.

  “It’s too early.” She ran the stairs. Peeking through the curtains on the side of the door, her heart stalled. Carlo Tallarigo smirked. She straightened her pants and opened the door.

  “What a surprise, Mr. Tallarigo.” Greeting the odd man, she felt confused why he’d call on her. Tension in the room was audible as was her throbbing heart. What could he possibly want? “What may I do for you?”

  Hesitantly at his forward stance, Tisha stepped back so he could enter. He glanced around as though checking the place out then stepped into the foyer. “Good evening, Ms. McClain, Tisha. I apologize for dropping in unannounced.” He reeked of stale whiskey, sweat and Grecian Formula. The putrid scent complimented his repulsive personality. Hearing her name stretched out as though he mimicked her, irked her.

  “Your timing is inconvenient.” Carlo’s presence made her uneasy. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly she resented the intru
sion, or to think her happy about him being there. Irritation ruled her tone. She couldn’t allow him to see weakness in her. She wanted him aware of her displeasure and knew instinctively she’d only get respect demanded from the strange man.

  “Yes, well I must talk with you.” He stepped further into the lobby and gawked around uninvited.

  His boldness riled Tisha. “Surely it could wait. It’s not a good time.” She didn’t smile but moved closer to the door hoping he would follow.

  He ignored her plea for him to leave. “No, best we get this over with and out in the open.”

  Displeasure showed on Tisha’s face. “Well let’s have it then. What’s so urgent you call on me without warning?” Tisha demanded her hands on her hips, feet spread apart, hoping to intimidate at least a bit.

  Peeved at this guy, she refused to allow him to get under her skin. He had some nerve. She couldn’t allow him think he could toy with her. Not the first rude businessman she dealt with, she understood she couldn’t show weakness with the offensive beast.

  “I wanted to tell ya myself. I’m taking over your Ma’s businesses. I allowed her to operate out of respect for her and her old man. I mean her and your pa.” His pudgy hands flailed around as he spoke, and she laughed out loud at the idea he might flap enough to take flight. “Snake’s long gone. Roberta’s out of the picture. You ain’t got the connections or balls for it, so I’ll take over.”

  Carlo’s chest puffed out with courage acting as though he had the upper hand, and Tisha as a wimp would fold. Her instincts told her he was attempting to make himself look larger than life, threateningly so, in order to frighten and intimidate her.

  His scare tactic wouldn’t work. The nerve—she laughed aloud. Carlo looked downright homely. His manner caused his short, balding figure to appear even more peculiar.