"Congestive heart failure. That's what causes the cough—fluid around her heart that presses on the lungs."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
They rode in silence until reaching Riverside County, where James suggested they stop for dinner and asked her what she felt like eating.
"Whatever sounds good to you," she said, her voice lifeless.
He spotted a Benihana restaurant beside the freeway and suggested stopping there. At only four o'clock, the restaurant had plenty of open seating. Landi enjoyed the table-side show put on by the chef, and James enjoyed seeing her delighted response to his tricks. Out of the doldrums, the girl spoke cheerfully the rest of the way home. Back at her Venice apartment, James pulled tools and hardware from his trunk.
"What's all that for?" she asked.
"I'm going to fix that flimsy door so no one can break in," he replied.
"You don't have to do that," she said, then added, "you can always just stake out the place to ensure I'm all right."
They both laughed as James revved his cordless drill.
Chapter 6
-Another Manic Monday-
Landi's pinto sputtered across town. She took side streets from her classes to Katrina's apartment. She tried to go over a mental to do list of all she needed to accomplish that afternoon, but her thoughts kept returning to the prior evening.
James replaced the hinges on the door to her apartment, the deadbolt, knobs and lock. When she expressed concern about the landlord not being able to use his old key, he told her not to worry. He'd manipulated the workings of the new lock to match the old. He worked proficiently and finished within an hour, even with Sizzle, the alley cat, snaking between his ankles. She almost asked him if he'd had his own key made but decided against it.
Jim remained a paradox to her. She trusted him, yet she knew he hadn't been completely honest with her. He shared traits with her old boyfriend, like staking out her home, yet Katrina had only warned her of his playboy tendencies. Surely, if he were that type of man—Rick's type—he wouldn't have let Kiki go so easily. He could be incredibly sensitive one moment and volatile the next. She felt safe with him, even though his touch sent electricity through her body and his presence made her head spin.
She smiled, remembering how he'd made fun of her car, referring to it as a Pacer. Still, he didn't balk at her small apartment or Hatti's trailer or the layer of dust left on his sports car after their trip to the desert.
Ireland arrived at her boss's apartment on autopilot, the trip across town not registering. She parked and relived their parting.
"I just want to make sure you're safe," he'd said, tightening the last screw. "I start my new job tomorrow, you know."
Yes, she knew about his job in San Diego. She managed to keep her emotions in check when he hugged her goodbye. After he left, her eyes welled with tears before she scolded herself for getting carried away. It was just as well that the enigmatic James Crimshaw left town.
She jammed her key in Katrina's lock. Inside the apartment, the phone rang off the hook. Finally, the door gave way, and she dashed to get the call.
"Hello, Katrina Crimshaw's office," she said, then put her hand over the receiver and gasped for breath.
"Uh, yeah, this is Nate with Needles Heating and Air. I was told to call this number to confirm that the new air conditioning units had been delivered and installed at the residence on Highway Nine in Cadiz."
"What? I didn’t arrange for any air conditioning units."
"Well, I'm looking at the work order right here. Looks like the signature on the bill of sale says Matti Lincoln."
"That would be Hatti Lincoln," she corrected the man. She continued, "Who asked for the work and who paid for it?"
"Just says paid in full, in advance, and that we need to notify this number when the job is finished, Ma'am."
"Thank you," she said and hung up, confused.
A moment later, her confusion cleared when the door swung open, hitting the wall with a thud that made her jump. James strode into the apartment carrying several bags of takeout food.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, incredulous.
"Working."
"What do you mean? You're supposed to be in San Diego," she said, lifting her jaw from the floor.
"You should keep this locked when you're here alone, Landi." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.
He walked past her and began removing cartons from his takeaway bags. He moved into the kitchen before returning with two plates and cutlery.
"Don't worry, I got enough for both of us," he said with a grin.
"I don't have time for lunch. I've got to clean the apartment, piece together your sister's next blog, take her clothes to the dry cleaner, and confirm several appointments she has with out-of-state museums, all before I run to the bank."
James already had a mouthful of pasta when he answered, chewing between words.
"Nah, I already tidied up. She won't be needing her clothes anytime soon, so that can wait, and the bank's open till five. Wow, this is delicious. You should really have some."
Ireland raised both eyebrows high on her forehead in disbelief.
"What's going on here?"
"Didn't Katrina mention it to you?" he said, wiping a distracting spot of Alfredo sauce from the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "She said she'd leave you a message. Have you checked your email?"
She grabbed the laptop off the table and flipped it open. Sure enough, there was a message from her boss. It read: James making my place his home base while I'm gone. Just work around him. He shouldn't be a problem. In fact, put him to work if you need to. Love, Kate
"What does this mean, James?" She angled the computer towards him.
He ran his eyes over the screen, nodding and chewing.
"It means, I'm staying here and working from here. I've been assigned a client in the LA area, so it made no sense for me to commute from Palmdale or move to San Diego yet."
Landi was speechless. James shoved a plate piled high with antipasto, fettuccine, and salad in front of her and handed the stunned girl a large Styrofoam cup full of iced tea.
"It's gonna be great. You'll see," he said, flashing his well-known grin.
She checked to see if his eyes smiled as well. She believed they did. Last night, he gave her the impression he wouldn't be around anymore, and today, he's living at her place of work.
What is he up to?
She forced a smile in his direction and popped a piece of artichoke in her mouth. He'd been correct. The food tasted delicious. Her eyes were drawn to another dab of sauce at the corner of his mouth, and her head felt addled. The next few weeks might prove difficult.
"Thank you for lunch. It's incredible."
"Glad you like it. I've got cannoli in the fridge for later. I tell you what—after lunch, you make those pressing phone calls, and then we'll come up with a game plan as to how we're going to make this arrangement work. Okay?"
"All right," she said, not able to hide her dubious tone. Then she remembered the strange call she'd received from Needles Heating and Air. She added, "By any chance, did you arrange for my mom to get new air conditioning units today?"
Jim choked on an olive, turned a new shade of red, then cleared his throat.
"Uhm, uhm."
She felt that he was buying for time.
"Uh, let me guess. They called here while I was out?"
"Yes."
"Hmm." He played with his antipasto, staring at an olive he twirled on his fork before continuing. "I didn't want you to know about that. They said it would take all afternoon. I hope you don't think I was taking liberties. I just wanted to do something nice for your mother."
She doubted he worried about taking liberties. That seemed his specialty, as well as getting others to follow his orders. He studied his plate, so she couldn't read his expression. As the blush drained from his face, she stared at the dab of sauce at the corner of his mouth.
&n
bsp; "It was very kind. I don't know how I can repay you, though."
She saw his cheeks bunching as his lips stretched into a smile, and he raised his head to meet her gaze. Landi reached across the table and wiped that bit of sauce from his mouth with her thumb. That drop kept her from focusing, and now that she'd removed it, she hoped she could think clearly again.
"There's no need to repay anything. Just let your mom think it came from you."
She let the subject drop and finished her tea, a refreshing tropical flavor. James insisted on cleaning up so she could get started confirming arrangements with the museums. She dealt with different time zones for several, so she complied, knowing some museum employees reached the end of their work day soon.
James appeared to work furiously on his own computer while she spoke with various directors or their assistants. Katrina expected her honeymoon to last at least six weeks, with the possibility of stretching it to eight. Her first exhibit consultation would take place ten weeks out, so she had some leeway.
After she'd finished her phone work, she retrieved her boss's bills and wrote out checks for utilities and rent. She made out a deposit ticket for a retainer fee that had arrived just before the wedding.
"I'm going to the bank and post office now, James."
He checked his watch.
"You're coming back, right?"
"Yes, I'll be back in about an hour."
He flashed her his best grin before she could get out of the apartment.
As soon as the door closed, James stretched in his chair, allowing himself to relax. He'd spent the morning hacking his sister's email account and her assistant's. Any communications between the two would first pop into his own secure account. He could alter, delete, or create notes as he saw fit. He'd been nervous Ireland might not believe the earlier message was from Katrina, but she'd bought it hook, line, and sinker.
Kate would never approve of him taking up residence in her apartment—not when it meant being alone with Landi for hours each day. As long as his dad didn't find out, things should run according to plan. He told his father he'd be staying on the company dime in corporate housing in Los Angeles and San Diego, as needed, when he moved his clothes down late last night.
James yawned. He'd had a busy morning cleaning the apartment, hacking software, buying air conditioning units, researching government records, and picking up lunch. He didn't like to see someone who worked as hard as Ireland doing housework on top of everything else. Perhaps he'd hire a maid to do it when she was in class. Until then, he'd handle the cleaning. He decided to extend his cramped legs out on the sofa and take a cat nap, tucking one arm under his head.
The door remained unlocked when Landi returned from her errands. She slipped into the apartment without making much noise and at once noticed Jim asleep on the couch. She took the opportunity to get a good look at the man. He had thick eyelashes like his sister, but his hair was a lighter color. A five o'clock shadow spread across his square jaw and chin, darker than his blonde locks but similar to his brows. The hard set of his mouth spoke of difficult experiences. His tight T-shirt revealed a chest and torso filled with rock hard muscles, and the arm tucked under his head showed off an enormous bicep. Veins bulged at his neck, temples, and forearms, and she observed rapid eye movement behind his closed lids. She watched as his muscles suddenly tensed and wondered if he had bad dreams.
One large, rough hand rested beside his thigh. She already observed his powerful legs on their hike. James flinched, and she decided she should move away before he woke and found her gawking. She organized Katrina's next blog post, set to publish this evening. Her boss had given her the text and photos she wanted used, but it remained up to the girl to choose the placement and any extra decorative details. Also, she would need to find a quote to feature from a prominent jewelry designer, past or present. Landi fired her computer up and got busy.
She finished the blog around five. She'd learned Katrina's style in the last couple of months, and no one could tell the difference between her work and that of her boss. Of course, Kate still made the big decisions, but Landi prided herself on producing the same caliber of work as her superior. Pleased with her efforts, she quietly gathered her belongings, not wanting to wake James. She strolled past the sofa, pausing to see if he still slept. If he was awake, she would say goodbye. His eyes remained closed while a pang of disappointment thudded in her chest.
Kate's brother watched the petite girl from behind his long, thick lashes. She obviously thought he still slept. He felt the girl scrutinize him as if he were the unexpected result of a science experiment, or maybe a circus freak. He didn't enjoy feeling like the contents of a Petrie dish or the star of a carnival sideshow.
Unaware that she shook her head from side to side, Ireland decided to make her getaway. Just as she stepped beyond the couch, James snagged her wrist, giving her a start. A small gasp escaped her lips, a reflex, as he drew her back.
"Hey, where are you going?" he said, sitting up.
He tugged, pulling her down on the sofa next to him.
"I'm going home for the day. You startled me. I thought you were still asleep."
"Sorry, but we need to discuss our working environment before you go."
She stared at him with raised eyebrows, a small smile playing across her lips.
"Okay, so I slept all afternoon instead of working. It won't happen again—probably," he said with his infamous grin. He continued, "Anyhooo, stay put while I make some coffee to go with our dessert. You've got time, don't you?" he asked over his shoulder on the way to the kitchen.
"Do I have a choice?" she mumbled.
"What was that?" he said, poking his head around the corner.
"I said, I've got all the time in the world," she claimed.
He chuckled, then returned to his brewing. In a few minutes, he returned with two mugs of coffee clutched in his right hand and dessert plates laden with cannoli running up his left arm, waiter-style. He placed everything on the coffee table, including paper napkins previously hidden under the small dishes. James took a sip of his hot drink and encouraged her to do the same with a nod of his head.
"Remember when I said I'd like to get to know you better?" he asked.
"Sort of."
"And you said that sounded like a nice idea?"
"Uh huh."
Where is he going with this?
"Well, I've figured out the perfect way to do so. Are you ready to hear my idea?"
"I can hardly wait," she said without any hint of sarcasm, her expression open.
"It's simple. Each day, we tell each other a secret. It doesn't have to be anything major, but it does have to be something true and something we haven't shared with one another before. This way, we can get to know each other in a hurry and keep this tight work environment . . ." He glimpsed around the room, "Uh, comfortable. What do you say?"
"Uh, I say no."
She didn't like the sound of this game at all.
"Wow, that's harsh, Ireland. Just give it a try. Nothing leaves the apartment," he said, cramming an Italian pastry past his lips. "I'll give you an example," he continued, speaking with a full mouth. "I tell you something like, uh, a famous model checked me out in the restaurant at lunch today and slipped me her phone number." He swallowed the last bit of cannoli and took a swig of coffee before stealing another treat from her plate and devouring it like a wood chipper. "And you say something like, I eat a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream every night with a chaser of a dozen macaroons."
Landi almost spewed a mouthful of coffee before she choked it down, laughing.
"Come on, Kumquat. No one's gonna judge you," he said, glancing around the room as if looking for someone. "You know, confession is good for the soul," he added with a wink. "I'll even go first."
"All right, but I want the truth, James Crimshaw, no made up stuff about super models."
Jim closed his lids and drew in several slow, deep breaths. She almost expected him to cha
nt and assume a yoga position.
He popped his eyes open and said, "I never re-enlisted."
It took her a moment to understand his meaning. Landi's jaw dropped. Hadn't he just told her that he and Kiki broke up because he signed up for another tour of duty? Jim placed his forefinger under her chin and pushed up, closing her mouth, and then he gave her nose a tap.
"What do you mean?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed.
"Ah, ah, ah," he said, wagging his finger. "No questions. I might reveal more tomorrow, but you'll have to wait to find out."
She shook her head and tried to gather her thoughts. He'd dropped a bomb on her. Everyone from Kate to Kiki to his own father thought he'd spent the last six to nine months in the service, and now she had to keep his secret. She'd passively agreed, Nothing leaves this apartment. She looked up and caught him scrutinizing her reaction.
"Disappointed in me?" he asked in a low, serious tone.
"I'm not sure. I don't know why you'd mislead—"
"Remember, no questions," he interrupted. "Your turn," he added in a chipper voice, rubbing his hands together in mock anticipation.
She knew he tried to lighten the mood, but it didn't help. What started out feeling like a parlor game now resembled a military exercise. She decided to dive in and give as good as she got.
"I'm adopted," she blurted out.
Confessing a food addiction would have been easier. Now it was her turn to scan his face. She'd relayed surface information about her family history to Kate, but she had no idea it had been passed between the Crimshaws. Revealing this to James seemed more daunting.
"Disappointed in me?" she added, her voice quavering.
Confiding in someone for whom she felt a strong attraction, and who appeared to come from the perfect family, the type of family she'd always longed to be a part of, took its toll. She didn't want James to think any less of her because of her background.
"Oh, no, Baby. Not a bit." His face and tone reflected her own pain and anguish. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. "My best friend is adopted. There's no shame in it," he added, whispering in her ear.
A Calculated Romance Page 7