Love Makes the Difference (Sully Point Book 1)

by Nicole Smith

  "Don't think that smile will work on me. I've told you before, nobody reads it until I'm done. Then I'll let you and Norm read it. Then my editor. And I'll be a nervous wreck the whole time you are all reading it."

  "I can't quite picture that."

  "Believe me it's true."

  She moved closer to him on the couch. "I bet I could convince you to let me read it early."

  "I have no objection to letting you try."

  She laughed. "I'm sure that's true. Sam, are you happy?"

  "Now? This minute? Or in general?"

  "In general."

  "Very happy. And you--are you happy, Anna?"

  She fitted her body to his after setting her drink down on the coffee table. "I'm happier than I knew was possible. I never even imagined being this happy."

  He felt a little jolt of relief inside as she said that. Then he kissed her.

  A loud popping noise sounded outside the building and one of the glass blocks in the front window exploded.

  Kevin burst into the room yelling, "Down! Get on the floor!"

  Sam rolled them both off the sofa and onto the rug. He knew they needed to be further back in the room. "Crawl, Anna, to the back." She seemed shaky but alert and nodded. They proceeded to move to the back of the large room, while Kevin kept watch and talked on his radio.

  "Damn it! Of all the luck. How did she do that?"

  Sam had heard a screeching of tires on the road outside and had a sinking feeling as he listened to Kevin. She couldn't have gotten away.

  "She got away," Kevin said as he walked over to them.

  Sam and Anna sat leaning against the back wall. Sam noticed that Anna's grip on his hand hadn't loosened yet. "How? And what the hell happened?"

  Kevin's chagrined look said volumes. "Somebody slashed two tires on the side of the SUV furthest from us. Did something to the gas--probably poured sugar into the gas tank. Had to be done in the last two hours, but nobody saw her do it. We're sure it was Patrice, by the way, saw her in her car as she sped off. She shot from the car, at the front window. I doubt she thought she could hit either one of you since you weren't visible. She probably wanted to scare you."

  "She succeeded at that," Anna said in a small voice.

  "When Leo got in the car to take off after her, the car problem became evident. So we radioed to the guys at the motel to get on the roads out of town and look for a sickly-looking yellowish green two-door little sports car. We managed to get the license plate."

  "So we're waiting on news," Sam said dully. He couldn't believe they'd come so close and hadn't gotten her. He was also having trouble comprehending that she'd shot at them. There was static on the radio and then guys reporting in.

  "Found it. Abandoned on a side street. She had another car."

  "Damn, damn, damn," Kevin muttered.

  "Wait--she had two cars?" Anna asked incredulously.

  Kevin nodded. "She planned this out well. We've underestimated her, I think. I wouldn't have thought she had the patience for a detailed plan."

  Sam's thoughts were churning with rage. He wasn't going to let Patrice destroy the happiness he and Anna had found. He stood up and then pulled Anna to her feet. "How about we head to New York early? I know we weren't going for a couple more days, but I'm not sure how safe we'd feel here."

  Anna gave a little sigh. "Yeah, and I hate this. I hate that she made this place feel dangerous. But you're right. Getting out of here sounds like a good plan to me."

  Kevin's brow furrowed as he thought. He said, "Let me talk to Leo and see if he agrees. If so, we can get you guys out of here tonight. My advice is to go upstairs, have some dinner, try to relax, impossible as that sounds."

  "Okay. Keep us posted," Sam said. "And we need to get someone to do something about the front window."

  Kevin waved them up the stairs. "I'll call and get a temporary fix on it."

  They climbed the stairs and entered the loft. Sam paced the living area while Anna went in the kitchen and banged pots around on the stove. He knew she was upset, but so was he, and they both needed a little space to deal with their feelings. It was hard not to blame himself for this. For all of it. But there was no point in thinking that way. The thing that bugged him the most was there was nothing he could do to end the danger.

  * * * *

  Damn Patrice! Anna thought as she clambered two pots together getting one out of the cabinet. When would the woman give up? Was she determined to actually kill them? Or would she terrorize them forever?

  Anna knew Kevin would have already called Sheriff Jones. They would take out a restraining order, at the least, now that she'd been seen doing something. Not that it would help. Maybe they could actually have an arrest warrant for her shooting at the building.

  She wondered if she'd feel safer in the big city, or more vulnerable. Kevin and Leo had explained the plan where they'd be registered in one hotel under their real names but would stay in another, under false names.

  Setting the oven to reheat a casserole, she got out her cell phone and called her father. "Daddy?"

  "What's wrong? You only call me that when you're in trouble."

  "Patrice came here. Shot at the window then got away."

  "What? When? How? How did they let her get away?"

  Anna could hear the surprise and the frustration in his voice. "She sabotaged their car. And she had another getaway car. Anyway, it means we're probably going to leave tonight for the city. We'll get you and Cody rooms once we get settled somewhere. Just don't tell anyone where you're staying."

  "Yeah, okay kiddo," he said, sounding distracted.

  Somehow hearing the old nickname of 'kiddo' didn't upset her anymore. Instead she felt like crying. "Gotta go Dad. Fixing dinner. I'll call later and let you know what we're doing for sure."

  She set the phone down on the counter, a few tears leaking out of her eyes, and Sam came in and saw her. She saw his face tighten with anger before he gathered her up in his arms.

  "Anna, Anna, don't let her do this."

  "I'm sorry. I guess I'm scared."

  "You don't have to be sorry. I'm scared too. And mad as hell."

  "Yes, me too. Do you think they'll catch her?"

  "At some point, yes, but I can't tell you when. One thing though--when we're out and about in the city, people might recognize me or we might have paparazzi around us. Might be a bit harder for her to get away with anything in that environment."

  "You mean there could be a good use for those people?"

  Sam laughed. "Yes, that would be strange now, wouldn't it."

  Anna thought about the few photographers who'd shown up last week at the bakery. They'd finally tracked Sam down to Sully Point and seemed peeved that he had duped them for so long with the Tom Anders identity. One of them had written a nasty little caption to the photo of Sam smiling at Anna in the bakery, suggesting he was slumming because he'd never be with such a plain, uncultured type. Sam had been furious but Anna had laughed it off. It was such an obvious dig. And nothing like the damage Patrice wanted to inflict on them.

  She gave him a hug and pulled away. "Run back down and grab that bottle of wine, will you? I think I could use another glass."

  By the time he returned she had splashed water on her face and felt better. She'd learned over the past weeks that the trick to all this was to roll with whatever life threw at you, no matter how bizarre. Smiling to herself she remembered the day she'd decided to accept the Porsche--definitely a bizarre moment. But she did love that car. She'd only gotten to drive it once around town, then the security guys insisted on putting it in a garage until the threat was over. Something to look forward to--driving the car, walking by the front window downstairs without fear, going to the bakery without a guard--all these things she would look forward to.

  "Here we go, a glass of wine coming right up," Sam said getting wine glasses from the cabinet. "We broke ours when we rolled into the coffee table."

  "I didn't even notice. Do we need to
go clean that up?"

  "I mopped up the rug and put the glass into the trash. Vacuuming can wait until later. Just don't go down there with bare feet."

  Anna pulled the bubbling chicken and rice casserole out of the oven. Comfort food, just right for tonight. They served themselves and began to eat sitting at the counter.

  "Sam, where will we stay in New York? I mean, if we don't stay at some fancy place, you know, to hide out."

  He chuckled. "I think you'll find that it will still be fancy. There's a hotel I know of, very private, never advertised, that is only for the very rich who don't want to be hounded by the press. I should go ahead and call them. I told them the other day that we would need a suite starting in a few days. They may not be able to get us in tonight. But you'll love this place. Very cozy and they cater to your every whim."

  "Sounds lovely. But I think you're the only one who will need to cater to my whims."

  "Anna!"

  "So I have sex on the brain--how can I help it with you around?" She grinned at him and he laughed.

  "Here," he pushed his plate toward her. "Scoop me up some more of that casserole while I call them, please."

  Anna fixed his plate, and turned to watch him pacing around the room as he talked on the phone. It was funny how often he did that. She thought he'd gotten in the habit of pacing when he worked on his books and now he did it when he was on the phone. It was another little quirk that endeared him to her. She loved looking at him when he was doing something else. Watching as he motioned with those hands that drove her crazy in bed, his eyes that grew determined as he insisted they needed the room sooner, eyes that could be passionate one minute and gentle the next--she felt herself blush as she remembered last night.

  He closed the phone and said, "Finally. Had to talk to the right person. He says they'll put us up in another room for tonight and tomorrow and then we can have the suite I originally booked." He paused and tilted his head to the side. "Now why on earth are you blushing?"

  She ducked her head and he walked over and tilted her chin up with one finger. "Why Anna Grainger, I do believe you were thinking lascivious thoughts."

  "You've got that right. We could skip the rest of dinner."

  There was knocking at the door.

  "Save that thought," Sam said with a growl of frustration as he headed for the door. Kevin came in.

  "No sighting of her at all. We agree with you that the move to the city should be made tonight. We'll leave as soon as you're packed and ready to go."

  Anna swallowed a large gulp of wine.

  * * * *

  Sam sat with his arm wrapped around Anna. She was leaning against him sleeping. He'd noticed she had an amazing ability to sleep whenever and wherever she was, and especially when she was stressed out. While he sat in the back seat of the SUV staring out the window, as the miles slid by, tension filled his body. If this was one of the scenes in his books he'd have a clue what to do. Here and now, it felt like running away to leave Sully Point this way. Like Patrice had driven them out of their home.

  He supposed she had done just that. Sighing, he shifted in the seat and ran his hand over Anna's soft hair. He didn't think she understood just what her show at Stanley's gallery could mean. Not just money, but fame in the world of the arts. Stanley hadn't shown a new artist, an unknown, for decades. The rumors and gossip were running rampant as the publicity for the show began. Sam let himself imagine Anna in the midst of that crowd--her realness against all that pretense and fakery, and smiled. Then it hit him.

  "Leo," he said in a harsh tone. "What about the show? Wouldn't that be the perfect place for her to show up?"

  Leo turned to look back at him. "Yes, we've been talking about it as a possibility."

  "Focus on it. I can feel it in my gut. That's where she'll come after us. Get more people, enough to give us major coverage for that event. It's the kind of place she always goes to, and she'd want to humiliate me in front of that crowd. And Anna as well, now that she is breaking into that group."

  "You sound pretty certain."

  "I am. I know, you still need to keep watch over us until then, but I think special attention for that night is important."

  "All right, we'll plan for that. I'll bring in more guys."

  "Sorry I couldn't get your people rooms at the hotel we'll be staying at, but they're booked solid."

  "Not a problem. We're set up nearby."

  "Do you think she intends to actually shoot one of us?"

  "Yes, I do. But we won't let that happen."

  Sam nodded as Leo turned to face front again. He knew there was no guarantee that the guards could protect them.

  They pulled up in front of the building they'd be staying in, and Sam shook Anna gently to wake her. She mumbled, "Still sleepy."

  "We just have to go in and up to the room then you can sleep all you want."

  "Well, maybe not that sleepy."

  He chuckled.

  * * * *

  By the time they were whisked away in the elevator to the fourth floor, and into their room, Anna was wide awake. The hotel didn't feel like a hotel, but more like a mansion that they'd been invited to stay in for a while. Everything was beautiful and tastefully done, from the furnishings to the wall coverings of muted silk. The room they'd be in for the next two days had an incredibly comfortable couch placed in front of a fireplace, a small table by the window which looked out onto a garden in the courtyard, and a big four-poster bed. The wood was dark and carved with pineapples and other fruits with leaves twining around them.

  "Anna, do you want anything?" Sam asked.

  "This place is wonderful. Could we get something to nibble on? I'm hungry now that I'm awake."

  "How about hot chocolate with cookies? Or would you rather have a club sandwich with a carbonated beverage?" The manager, dressed in formal attire, looked inquiringly at her.

  "The hot chocolate and cookies sounds lovely."

  "Very well, miss. I'll have it sent right up." He left the room, leaving a card key with Sam.

  Anna looked at the security key. "That doesn't match the décor."

  "They're very up-to-date when it comes to security of their guests."

  Sam flopped down onto the couch and Anna sat at the other end. The fireplace had a shiny brass peacock fan covering the opening. She slipped off her shoes and drew her legs up, leaned into the back of the couch and sighed. "Home, sweet home."

  Sam grimaced.

  "You can't let it get to you, Sam. We'll catch her and this will all be over. I say that we enjoy ourselves when we can. And this room is quite something."

  "It doesn't feel too cramped to you? The one we'll move into is a suite so there is a separate living room from the bedroom. Lots more space."

  "I think we can manage," she said soothingly.

  "Are you trying to manage me now?"

  "Maybe. You do seem a bit grumpy."

  "Grumpy. Hmph. Grandfathers are grumpy, not vital young men like me."

  She laughed.

  A knock on the door announced the arrival of their snack. After the waiter left, Anna stood staring at the rolling cart he'd wheeled into the room. White linen napkins, fine china cups, a silver pot of hot chocolate, and a tiered tray covered in a variety of what looked like homemade cookies made up the spread. She shook her head in wonderment.

  "Come on, have some of this with me. Let's feel decadent for a while."

  He looked at her and she saw some of the tension leave his face. "Only if they have chocolate chip."

  "Of course they do. And--" She stopped to chew and swallow. "Wow, these are as good as mine, maybe better."

  He moved over to the round table where she'd set out the cups with plates. "I'll only believe that if--" She stuffed a cookie in his mouth. "Mmm."

  "And this hot chocolate is to die for," Anna said with a big smile. "I'm already feeling catered to."

  He smiled at her, his eyes looking amused. "If I'd known you'd take to being pampered, I'd have s
tarted sooner."

  "Not all the time, but for now, this place is perfect."

  She saw the look of satisfaction on his face, and knew his mood was lighter. And she knew of one more way to make it even better. After excusing herself to the bathroom, she changed into a black lace nightgown which showed off her cleavage rather impressively. Walking back into the room, she watched him turn and saw his jaw drop. She leaned against the bed. "I think I'm in the mood to cater to you tonight."

  He was by her side in seconds. "Where, when, did you pick this up, love? It's quite delectable on you."

  "Holly got it for me--after I told her what I wanted."

  "Pass along my thanks to her." He began kissing her neck, hands roving.

  "Mmhmm. Feeling better, Mister Carter?"

  "Oh yeah."

  Chapter 11

  Sam was determined to make this New York visit a treat for Anna, so the next day they headed to the Guggenheim Museum. It had been years since Anna visited there, and she wandered silent and awed by the work of Picasso, Gaugin, Monet, and Renoir. Sam spent as much time gazing at her face as he did looking at the artwork. Her intentness, wonder, and a kind of completeness could all be seen on her face. When she was enthralled by a painting, absorbed in it, she looked complete just as she did when she was painting. It fascinated him.

  Sometimes he held her hand as they walked around, but mostly he gave her the space to take it all in. It seemed to him that the energy of the city had gotten to Anna. He always noticed it when he first arrived and walked around outside. The air was different here. There was a vibrancy, an alertness, a thrumming vitality that ran through the city, something that could be felt.

  Anna turned to look at him with bright wide eyes. "Can you believe this? How he put so much into it?" She motioned to the painting by Picasso. "There are so many levels here, it's hard to imagine being that good."

  He smiled at her. "Having a good time?"

  "I'm having a great time. This was a perfect idea for today." She walked on to the next piece.

  Sam had thought this would be a safe environment, as well as fulfilling for Anna, because Patrice spent most of her museum time at the Museum of Modern Art. She'd never been a Guggenheim fan. Patrice--he couldn't seem to keep her out of his head. Kevin and Leo walked with them through the museum while two other guards were outside. He decided to focus on thinking of a good restaurant they could go to, then thought perhaps eating-in was best. So far they had not run into any press.