The Other Side

by J. D. Robb

  She really needed to begin moving forward, not only in their relationship but in her business life as well.

  She came to a decision. She would begin the remodeling project as soon as possible. After all, if Brian Wallingford, one of the toughest board members of her father’s country club, was happy with the work done by this carpenter, what did she have to lose?

  Feeling confident in her decision, she strode out of the office and made her way to the gardens, where she’d seen Tyler strolling under the watchful eye of Bonnie.

  Jake Ridgeway took a moment to admire the lush gardens as he parked his truck in the circular driveway. When he stepped out, he took another long minute to study the house he was about to enter. Though he no longer designed houses, the love of architecture was in his blood. He’d earned a great deal of money designing some of the best-known mansions in northern California. Now he used his skill designing custom cabinets in those same mansions. But only if the job appealed to him.

  He climbed the wide stone steps and rang the bell. Minutes later, a plump woman ushered him inside and led the way to a suite of rooms on the main level.

  “Miss Christina, the young man I told you about is here.”

  If he was surprised by the woman’s youthful figure as she pushed away from her desk and hurried forward to shake his hand, he was even more surprised by the firm handshake and the brisk, businesslike attitude.

  “Mr. Ridgeway. You come highly recommended. My neighbor, Brian Wallingford, has nothing but praise for the work you did in his library.”

  “Thanks.” He broke contact and turned to study the thick wall of plastic sheeting used to keep the dust of the newly re-modeled addition to a minimum in her office space. “That’s quite an addition. What did you have in mind in there?”

  Christina led him across the room and lifted a flap of the plastic to permit entry into the now-empty space. “I’m thinking of a desk here, in front of the window. That will give me more light while I work. Then a wall of custom cabinets on this side, with perhaps a marble countertop and open shelves above.”

  He could see it clearly. “Nice fireplace. You’d want the marble to match that surround?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that, but yes, I think that would be lovely.” She continued to move around the room. “Maybe you could add some bookshelves on either side of the fireplace?”

  He nodded. “Not a problem. Anything else?”

  She crossed her arms, tapping a finger on her arm. “I love the look of old wood. Something rich and dark that matches my current office. I don’t want it to look as though it’s been added, but rather like something that was always here.”

  “I could bring some samples.”

  “Fine.”

  He waited. When she offered nothing more he pulled out a pad. “I’ll take some measurements. Make a few drawings.”

  “Then I’ll leave you to it.” She turned and made her way back to her office and her father’s desk, leaving him silhouetted beyond the plastic sheeting.

  Within minutes she was lost in her work.

  While Mark rolled up his sleeves to measure and make notations on his pad, Ted and Vanessa hovered.

  “You see, Ted? He’s just what we hoped for. Look at those muscles.”

  “I see them. But it’s obvious that Christina didn’t.”

  “Not yet. But she will. And that handsome poet’s face. She can’t ignore a face like that for long. Just look at those dark, soulful eyes. What woman could resist them?”

  Ted chuckled. “It’s a good thing he can’t see you drooling, babe.”

  She joined in the laughter. “As long as we’re choosing a champion, why not one who’s easy on the eyes?”

  Ted glanced at his daughter, fielding a call at her desk while her fingers sped across a keyboard. Like Jake, she was completely lost in her work. “He could look like a Greek god and be as noble as any mythological hero, but if he and Christina don’t connect, it won’t matter at all.”

  His wife followed his gaze and sighed. “That’s why we’re here, darling. If they don’t connect on their own, we’ll just have to nudge them along.”

  “Remember the rules. We’re not allowed to meddle.”

  “No, darling. We’re not allowed to interfere with their free will. Gram didn’t say anything about nudging them in the right direction.”

  Ted chuckled again. “If I’ve learned anything after a lifetime with you, babe, it’s this: I should never argue when you’re about to play matchmaker.”

  “This is much more than playing, darling. This time, it’s a matter of life and death.”

  Five

  Jake opened a box and took out one of the hand-carved medallions he’d been perfecting in his workroom at home. He’d been pleasantly surprised by the beautiful old wood that Christina Crenshaw had chosen for her custom cabinets. Most of his clients wanted something more contemporary. The old wood suited this house. This room. And since he rarely slept more than a few hours at a time, he’d welcomed the chance to lose himself in work and avoid the dreams that often plagued him in the night.

  He loved the feel of aged wood in his hands. It wasn’t just the grain and texture, but the history. It pleased him to think about the tree it had once been and the men who had helped to cut it, plane it, sand it. This particular wood had come from a supplier he knew and trusted, who had assured him that it had once been a wall of an ancient abbey.

  Holding up the medallion, he was pleased to note that it perfectly mirrored the medallions carved into the marble fireplace surround. He’d drawn one to scale and had used that as a template for the others. He had a feeling that his client would welcome this special touch on her cabinets.

  His client.

  He was particularly pleased that she left him alone with his work and never tried to engage him in conversation. Even though they were essentially working in the same room, the plastic sheeting gave each of them a sense of privacy. That’s what he liked most about this job. He didn’t have to interact with other people. They left him alone to create something with his own two hands, with wood and tools, without ever having to talk to people except in passing. And the work kept him from thinking about what he’d lost and would never be able to regain in this lifetime. It was too painful, too heart-wrenching. There were times when he felt like an open, bloody wound that would never heal.

  Jake was so absorbed in his work he wasn’t even aware at first of the little boy who had sidled up beside him. It wasn’t until the boy reached for a medallion and began turning it over and over in his hands that Jake noticed the movement. Seeing the way the boy was studying the wood, Jake smiled.

  “You like it?”

  The boy took no notice of him.

  Instead of being annoyed by his brush-off, Jake was enormously pleased. It would seem that this was another family member who knew how to allow a man his privacy.

  Jake turned away, like the boy, lost in his own thoughts.

  “Any other questions?” Christina sat at her desk and gazed into the camera on her computer monitor, studying the faces of the men and women in her advertising agency who’d been part of the computer-generated conference call.

  “I think we’ve covered everything.” Amy Morrow, her executive assistant, smiled at the oversized flat-screen monitor mounted on the wall of the agency’s conference room.

  “It’s plain to me that you have all given this latest campaign a great deal of thought, and it shows. When I decided to spend more time here, my chief concern was that you might think I was letting you and the company down.” Christina cleared her throat and swallowed the lump that was threatening. “Dad always bragged that he had the best team in the advertising business. He was right. You’ve all been amazing.”

  Bright smiles broke out on all the faces as the camera panned the group.

  “Thank you. All of you. I’ll be in touch tomorrow. Same time.” As Christina exited the program, she sat back and swiveled her chair to stare out the window.


  When she’d composed herself, she pushed away from her desk and got to her feet.

  As she crossed the room, she couldn’t resist pausing at the flap in the plastic sheeting. Curious to see how the work was progressing, she stepped inside.

  The first thing she saw was Tyler, wielding a hammer, pounding nails crookedly into a piece of wood.

  Catching sight of her in the doorway, Jake paused in his work. “Your son?”

  She shook her head. “My little brother.”

  Jake didn’t know why her response pleased him. “Doesn’t talk. But he seemed interested in what I was doing, so I thought I’d let him try his hand at it.”

  “Thank you. That’s kind of you. Tyler rarely shows an interest in anything outside his own mind.”

  “I’d know a thing or two about that.” With a smile Jake returned to his work.

  Christina stood quietly watching Tyler for several minutes. When she realized that neither he nor the carpenter even noticed her there, she turned on her heel and went in search of Bonnie.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I left Tyler there with your handyman for a couple of minutes.” Bonnie looked up from the journal in which she kept meticulous notes about Tyler’s improvements, no matter how minor. “I wanted to record this while it was fresh in my mind.” She set aside the pen and clasped her hands in her lap. “We were passing by when he just stopped dead in his tracks. Then, before I knew what was happening, he walked over, picked up a piece of wood, and became fascinated by the shape and texture of it. He’s done that before, of course. But then, instead of remaining fixated on the wood, he actually discarded it and picked up a hammer, imitating the man. I believe this is the most animated I’ve ever seen Tyler.”

  “Oh, Bonnie.” Christina crossed the room and grabbed the woman’s hands. “I wonder what it was that attracted him?”

  “Maybe the carpenter reminds him of someone. Maybe it’s because the man never talks, and that suits Tyler so perfectly. Or it may be something as simple as the tools he uses or the smell of wood. Whatever the attraction, there’s a light in Tyler’s eyes that I’ve rarely glimpsed. And if your carpenter doesn’t mind, I’d like to encourage Tyler to spend as much time in there as he’s willing to spend, under my watchful eye, of course.”

  Christina nodded, too overcome to speak.

  On her way to the kitchen, she circled back to her office for another look. Tyler was exactly where she’d left him, happily hammering nails into a piece of wood. When Bonnie entered and took a seat across the room, Tyler took no notice of her.

  Jake Ridgeway was across the room, standing on a stepladder, screwing a strip of wood to the wall. For a moment Christina merely watched, her attention caught by the corded muscles of his arms as he worked. Her gaze moved to the plaid shirt stretched tightly across those wide shoulders, then moved lower to his narrow waist and muscled legs encased in faded denims. When he reached for something in the tool belt at his waist, she quickly looked away. What in the world was she thinking? Until now she’d been so caught up in her own work and in the overwhelming task of this remodel, she hadn’t even noticed the man doing the work.

  But he was so easy on the eye.

  She chanced one more look. At that very moment he glanced over, and she felt the pull of that dark, haunted gaze.

  Jake paused in his work. “Did you want something?”

  She felt the heat stain her cheeks. “Nothing. Just . . . checking out how the work was progressing. Would you care for some lunch?”

  He pointed toward a cooler in the corner. “I brought my own.”

  “All right.” She watched as he returned to his work.

  Tyler hadn’t even acknowledged her presence. Bonnie was busy recording in her journal.

  Feeling slightly foolish, Christina turned away.

  Mrs. Mellon paused in the doorway of the office. “I’ve brought you some tea.”

  Christina looked up from her computer. “Thank you.” She pressed a hand to the back of her neck and stretched cramped muscles.

  “You’re working too hard.” The housekeeper set a silver tray on a sideboard and filled a steaming cup.

  “It helps to be busy. And everyone at the office has thrown themselves into this latest ad campaign.”

  “Of course they have. They all love you. But it’s all right to let them do some of the work without you, Miss Christina.”

  Chris smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Mellon glanced at the figures silhouetted behind the plastic sheet. “In the past week Bonnie and I have been delighted at the way the lad has taken to Mr. Ridgeway.”

  “Mr. Ridgeway? Oh, Jake. Yes. Isn’t it amazing?”

  “Indeed.” She lowered her voice. “Would you mind if I invited him to stay for supper tonight?”

  Before Christina could respond, she said softly, “It was Bonnie’s idea. She thinks he might be able to engage Tyler in conversation.”

  “I don’t know.” Christina began tapping a finger on her arm.

  “And if nothing else, we might learn a bit about the man and determine just what it is that attracts the lad to him.”

  Christina gave that some thought before nodding. “All right. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Would you like me to invite him?”

  The housekeeper brightened. “It would certainly mean more coming from you.”

  Christina picked up her tea and sipped. “I’ll take care of it.”

  A short time later she stepped into the work area and watched for several minutes as Jake held a level to a strip of wood and made some markings on the wall.

  When he turned and saw her, he paused. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in. Do you need something?”

  From his position on the floor, Tyler looked up, glancing from Christina to Jake. The mere fact that he seemed to be following their conversation had Christina’s heart rate climbing. He almost never paid any attention to the words being spoken by the people around him.

  She saw Bonnie, seated silently in the corner of the room, smiling broadly.

  “I came to invite you to dinner.”

  Jake seemed about to refuse but he caught sight of Tyler, staring at him with such eagerness, and he found himself nodding against his will. “I guess I could.”

  “I’ll tell Mrs. Mellon. Dinner will be at six. I’ll come and fetch you if you lose track of time.”

  Jake watched her walk away before returning to his work. While he measured and marked and prepared to set the cabinets in place, he found himself wondering what had just happened.

  He couldn’t imagine making small talk over a meal with strangers for an hour or more. The thought of smiling, nodding, answering questions about life in general, or worse, about himself, had him mentally cursing his momentary lapse.

  If he chased after her right now, he could excuse himself before he was committed to this. An appointment he’d forgotten. Or even an emergency that had just come up. There must be something he could say to get himself off the hook.

  He looked at the boy, who had picked up one of the wooden medallions and was turning it over and over in his hands. For one brief instant they made eye contact, and the boy’s lips curved into a half smile.

  Jake felt a quick tug on his heart. Damn. The kid had him. Those sad eyes. That sweet smile.

  He was trapped. He would just have to get through this.

  “So, Mr. Ridgeway . . . ”

  “Jake.”

  The housekeeper smiled. “So, Jake, how did you happen to become a carpenter and cabinetmaker?”

  The woman was as transparent as the glass that overlooked the gardens. She was bound and determined to engage him in conversation. Thinking about glass had him noticing the way the sunlight streaming in turned the ends of Christina’s hair to gold, surrounding her like a halo. He found himself itching to reach out and touch a strand, to see if it was as silky as it looked.

  She could have been a model for one of those California beach commercials. All flawless tawny skin and a lush bod
y that she tried to camouflage in a simple knee-skimming dress of pale yellow silk. She could wear an old paper bag, and she’d still look gorgeous.

  What the hell was the matter with him? It was barely a year since he’d lost Lily and their child, and he was thinking about things he had no right to.

  He closed his hand into a fist in his lap, grateful that they were eating in the kitchen. In his faded jeans and work shirt he’d have been completely out of place in the formal dining room he could see just beyond the doorway. If he found it odd that the lady of the house was eating in the kitchen with her staff, he didn’t bother to dwell on it. She seemed as comfortable here as she did in that big office. And from the looks of it, she didn’t consider them staff at all, but more like family. These two older women, he noted, were very protective of Christina Crenshaw and her little brother.

  “It was a natural progression from architect to builder to carpenter. They’re all related fields, and I’ve always loved working with wood. I enjoy making something with my own hands.”

  “I should think it would be very satisfying.” Bonnie sat beside Tyler and noted the way he kept watching the man.

  When Jake drank his milk, Tyler did the same. When Jake ate a forkful of mashed potatoes, the boy did the same.

  There was definitely a fascination here, a connection, no matter how fragile.

  Bonnie glanced over Tyler’s head. “Do you live alone, Jake?”

  He blinked and, across the table, Christina caught a glimpse of sudden pain. For some unexplained reason, she wished she could erase Bonnie’s question.

  “Yes.”

  “I used to, also, until I was fortunate enough to be employed here.” If Bonnie felt his discomfort, she covered it quickly. “I can barely recall my life before moving into this lovely place. From the first day, it has never felt like a job as much as a homecoming.”

  Jake had felt it, too. Each time he set foot inside this house, there was a very strong feeling of family, though he couldn’t explain it.