by Kayla Perrin
She flung the door open, ready to assure Mrs. Campbell that she was fine. Instead, she got the shock of her life. It wasn’t Mrs. Campbell standing there with a casserole or a pie. It was a man.
And not just any man.
It was the tall, dark and handsome mystery man who’d been at the back of the church during her mother’s funeral. The one who’d lingered by the graveside, and had shown up at the reception.
What was he doing here?
Chapter 5
“Oh God …” she uttered.
A small frown marred his attractive features. “I’m sorry. If this is a bad time—”
She realized she’d spoken aloud, which only added to her horror. “I’m so sorry. It’s just …” Self-conscious, she ran a hand over her frizzy hair. “I thought you were someone else.”
“Oh,” he said. “You’re expecting company. I can come back.”
Tasia noticed then that he had a pizza box in his hand. “No,” she began, “that’s not what I mean.” She gave him a questioning look as she surreptitiously tried to fix her hair. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.” She paused. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”
“My name is Malcolm Robertson,” he said, a warm smile touching his lips. “I knew your mother.”
“Malcolm,” she said, trying to see if it triggered a memory. “I saw you at the funeral and reception.”
“Yes.”
“You never spoke to me.”
“You seemed … quite upset. Naturally. I figured it wasn’t the best time to approach you, given that I was a stranger. I hoped you’d appreciate a visit after a few days. I brought pizza. In case you’re hungry.”
Tasia mulled his words over, and couldn’t help agreeing that he was right. “That’s very sweet of you, but I’m not really hungry.”
“Have you eaten today?” he asked, and looked at her as if he already knew the answer.
“No … I just haven’t been hungry.”
“Pepperoni, pineapple, and anchovies,” Malcolm said, extending the box to her.
Tasia didn’t accept it. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest. “How exactly did you know my mother?”
“I did some work on the house,” he explained. “I renovated the kitchen and the living room.”
“My mother didn’t owe you money, did she?” Was that why he was here with pizza—trying to butter her up before asking for payment?
“No, no.” Malcolm waved off the suggestion. “I came by to pay my respects.”
Realizing that she was being impolite, Tasia stood back and held the door open. “Come in.” As Malcolm stepped into the house, she added, “Like I said, I wasn’t expecting anyone. Just … give me a minute, okay?” She suddenly wished she’d checked her appearance before opening the door.
“Go ahead.”
“Make yourself comfortable,” Tasia called over her shoulder as she hurried back upstairs to the bedroom.
Once inside, she looked in the mirror and cringed. Her hair was haphazard, her shirt wrinkled. Her face a general mess. She’d lost weight in the last few weeks, and there were dark circles under her eyes.
She went into the bathroom and splashed some water over her face, then quickly brushed her hair back and tied it in a ponytail. She took off the over-sized T-shirt she was wearing and grabbed a blouse from the top of her suitcase. Only a marginal improvement, but it would have to do.
Tasia went back out to meet Malcolm. Odd that he hadn’t spoken to her at all during the funeral and reception, yet he felt compelled to show up now. And with pizza no less.
“Thank you for stopping by,” Tasia said. Moving to stand before him, she folded her arms over her chest. “But why did you? I mean—I get that you knew my mother, and I’m grateful that you’ve come with pizza. It’s a welcome change from the casseroles and fried chicken. I guess it’s just … I don’t know you personally, so I’m a little surprised by this gesture.”
“I didn’t get a chance to speak to you at the funeral, but I wanted to convey my condolences personally, so I decided to stop by after you’d had a few days to settle.”
She looked into his eyes, which she noticed were a greenish hazel and quite striking. Then there was a flash of something in that arresting gaze, something that made her think he wasn’t being entirely forthright. So she asked, “And that’s the only reason? Or is there something else?”
“If I’m being completely honest, your mother asked me to check on you.”
For a moment, Tasia was baffled. The mention of her mother made her for one brief moment think of her as still living. And then she caught herself. Her mother was gone.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t understand.”
“The last time I saw your mother. Which was about four weeks ago before her health took a real turn for the worse. She knew she was going. And she knew you’d be here to take care of her things. She was worried that you were going to need someone. You have a brother, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, she said she doubted he’d be here much, if at all, because he lives across country with his wife and new baby. So she asked me to stop by and check on you. Make sure you were okay.”
Tasia smiled. Even as her mother had been gravely ill, she’d been trying to take care of her. “Of course,” Tasia said, and chuckled softly. The first laugh she’d had since her mother’s death. “Did she tell you what pizza to order me as well? Because the pepperoni, pineapple, anchovies topping is a little too coincidental.”
“She sure did,” Malcolm smiled. “Your mom told me what you liked. She was very specific. Said you eat this when you’re upset.”
Tasia’s chest tightened with the urge to cry, but she held her tears in. This visit from a virtual stranger was giving her back her mother, if only for a moment. “It was always my comfort food. It’s crazy, because I’m known for cooking higher end cuisine. Did my mother tell you I’m a chef?”
“She did. She spoke very highly of you.”
Her mood lightened at the compliment from her mom. “So I guess it’s a little crazy that my favorite comfort food is pizza.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Malcolm grinned.
Who was this stranger, and how was it that he was making her smile at a time like this?
Because he was a gift from her mother, exactly when she needed it.
Obviously, her mother had wanted her to meet him. Was this the man her mother had mentioned to her months ago? The single, attractive one she thought would be perfect for her?
If so, Tasia could see why. Malcolm Robertson was very attractive, with a warm personality. And he definitely had a caring heart.
Who was she kidding? Malcolm was gorgeous. He was at least six inches taller than she was, which put him at around six-foot-two. He had the body of an athlete, lean with muscles in all the right places. His shoulders were wide, his large biceps strained beneath his tanned dress shirt and those thighs … Wow, did he ever make those black denim jeans look like tailored Armani pants.
Tasia abruptly jerked her gaze away when she realized that she was checking him out. She started toward the kitchen, which was open to the living room so she could still see Malcolm. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. “And if you’d like something other than pizza, let me know. The fridge is filled with food the neighbors brought over. More than I can ever eat. Lasagna, shepherd’s pie. Some fried chicken. I know my particular taste in pizza isn’t for everyone.”
“I’m fine with the pizza. I’ll eat anything.”
“Don’t feel you have to be polite. I’ll warm up something else for you.”
“Like I said, I’ll eat anything. Even better if you have a cold beer to go with it.”
So he was planning to make an evening of it. “Actually, I do,” Tasia told him. “I bought some for my brother, but …” Her voice trailed off.
“But he left,” Malcolm supplied. “At the funeral reception, right?”
So he’d been paying attention. Tasia
nodded. The memory still filled her with bitterness.
“He’s actually making you go through your mother’s belongings alone?” Malcolm asked.
Tasia grabbed two beers from the fridge and carried them to the table. “He claims he’ll be back, but God only knows when. Or if.”
“You say you bought the beer for him. Does that mean you’re not a beer drinker?”
“Not typically,” Tasia said, sinking onto a chair. “But if you’re going to eat my pizza, I can share a beer with you.”
“Fair enough.”
Malcolm sat beside her at the table, and Tasia opened the pizza box. The delectable smell wafted to her nose. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her just how hungry she was.
“Well,” Malcolm began. “Cheers.”
He lifted his beer bottle leaning the top slightly toward her. Tasia raised hers and clinked it against his. Then they both took a sip.
“Thank you,” she told him. She carefully lifted a slice of pizza that was smothered in anchovies. The cheese oozed off the sides in long gooey strings, which she loved. Her mouth watered. How long had it been since she’d eaten?
“So you have only one brother?” Malcolm asked. He was gazing at the family photos that graced the wall. “No other siblings?”
“Nope,” Tasia said, her tone terse. “Only one brother. Actually, I did have another half-sibling. Another brother. He was killed four years ago in a car wreck on his eighteenth birthday. I never knew him. My father remarried, a long time ago, but he wasn’t in touch … I only found out about my half-brother after his death.” Her father had reached out to her and Andrew after that, telling them about Blair. Tasia had been so angry. Andrew had welcomed him back. But she just couldn’t. Not after everything her father had done. And certainly not after all the years of silence. She’d had no idea Blair had even existed. What kind of man did that? Keep something like that from his other children. She couldn’t talk about it with her mother. It had hurt too much. And God knows her mom had had enough pain in her life. “So, yes it’s just Andrew and me. I love him dearly, but you’d think he’d make some effort to be here with me to deal with all of this.” She gestured toward the house. “But no.”
Malcolm lifted a slice of pizza, also choosing one that was laden with anchovies. “And you don’t think he’ll be back?”
“He lives in Seattle with his wife. She never liked me, or Mom. Andrew will do anything to make her happy. Even if that means leaving me with this whole house to pack up by myself.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“You don’t know Karlene.” Tasia took a bite and moaned in satisfaction. Her eyes closed as she savored the flavors in her mouth. She loved the creaminess of the melted mozzarella cheese and the sweetness of the pineapple blended with the saltiness of the anchovies and the pepperoni. All of that deliciousness on top of the tart tomato sauce was pure heaven.
“That good?” Malcolm asked. “All right. Let me give it a try.”
Tasia watched Malcolm take a bite. “What do you think?” she asked with a quirky grin.
He chewed, swallowed, then replied, “It’s good.”
“You don’t have to lie,” Tasia teased, giving him a skeptical look.
“I’ll admit, it’s kind of an acquired taste,” Malcolm said. “But it’s not bad.” He took another bite, and winked at her as he chewed. “Yeah, not bad at all.”
Tasia grinned, shaking her head. He was probably humoring her, but that was fine. His visit had definitely lifted her mood. It was nice talking to someone who wasn’t excessively pitying her over her mother’s death.
Malcolm took a pull of his beer. “You talked about packing up the house. Does that mean you’re planning to sell it?”
“I live in Atlanta,” Tasia explained. “And my brother certainly doesn’t want to live here. So yeah, it makes sense to sell. I’m not sure when I can list it, because it’ll take a while to pack up all of my mother’s things, but she owned it free and clear so there’s no rush. I may have to head home and make some trips back here to get the job done.”
Malcolm took another bite of pizza and nodded. “I see.”
Tasia glanced around. “When did you do the work on this house?”
“About six months ago,” he answered.
Tasia frowned. “I don’t understand it.” She gestured to the new granite counter tops and dark chocolate cabinets in the kitchen. “I mean, it looks great, but why on earth would my mother spend so much money renovating this house? Six months ago, she knew she was sick. She should’ve used that money for a trip.” Tasia shook her head, tears coming to her eyes. “She mentioned how she’d always wanted to visit Hawaii. If, she’d told me about the cancer before it was too late, I would’ve taken time off and gone with her. Instead, she spent all this money on the house. Why?”
“She did it for you.”
Tasia sucked in a sharp breath. That wasn’t what she’d expected to hear. “For me?”
“She knew she was dying. She knew the house would probably be sold. She wanted it to fetch the highest dollar if and when it was listed. And if you decided to keep it, she wanted the house to be comfortable for you.” Malcolm paused. “Any chance you’ll keep it?”
“Me?” She shook her head. “No, it doesn’t make sense. I’ve got a townhouse in Atlanta. My life is there. And I’d bet my last dollar my brother wouldn’t move back here.” Tasia blew out a frazzled breath. “I couldn’t care less if this house got another ten or even fifty thousand based on the renovations. My mother should have taken the money and done something nice for herself. It makes me angry.”
Tasia lifted the beer bottle to her lips and took a sip, but it tasted sour. Myriad emotions swelled inside her. “No,” she said softly as she pondered her mother’s actions. “It doesn’t make me angry. It makes me sad. I just … she deserved so much more out of life.”
“Your mother loved you,” Malcolm said. “In her last months, her thoughts were of you and what would make you happy. Of making things easier for you.”
Which was just like her mother, who had been self-sacrificing her whole life. Whatever Stella had wanted, she’d put on the backburner in order to make sure her kids came first.
“Just once, I wish she’d been selfish.”
“That wasn’t your mother. I didn’t know her for long, but I can tell you that for certain.”
“You’re so right,” Tasia said, holding back her tears. “I just … as much as she wanted me to be happy, I wanted her to be happy.”
“She is,” Malcolm said, and he looked at her with resolve. “I’m sure she’s looking down on you and smiling, no longer in any pain.”
Lord, how Tasia wanted to believe that. “Well, at least I know she’s no longer in pain,” Tasia said softly. “As awful as it was to lose her, I’m glad she’s no longer suffering.”
A cell phone started to ring, and it took Tasia a moment to realize that it was Malcolm’s. He reached into his shirt pocket to retrieve the phone and glanced at the screen. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, and pushed his chair back from the table.
As he stood, he answered the call. “Hey, Carter.” Then the expression turned to one of concern. “When?” Pause. “All right. I’m on my way.”
He ended the call and looked at Tasia. “Is everything okay?” she asked him.
“Not really. There’s a problem at a house I’m renovating. A pipe burst and water’s flooding the kitchen. I have to go.”
“Oh. Of course.” She got to her feet. “Thank you for coming.”
Malcolm headed to the door, and Tasia followed him there. He opened it, then turned to face her. “You’ll be packing up your mother’s things?”
Tasia nodded. “Yeah. I’m not looking forward to it, but it has to be done.”
“How about I come back tomorrow, help you out?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to. But I’d like to. Especially since your brother’s not here to help.”<
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Tasia looked up at him and wondered why he was being so nice to her. Then her mother’s voice popped into her head. Stop being so stubborn. Just accept his offer, baby. Let him help you.
“If you really want to—” she began.
“I do,” Malcolm told her. “I felt a special connection with your mom. I’m happy to help you in any way I can.”
How could Tasia refuse an offer like that? “All right, then.”
“Here’s my card.” Malcolm slipped it into her hand. “That’s my cell on the bottom. Call me if you need to. Otherwise, I’ll be here tomorrow. Six o’clock okay?”
“That’s perfect.”
Chapter 6
Six p.m. came and went.
Tasia had her cell phone in one hand and Malcolm’s card in the other. As she glanced at the clock for the umpteenth time, confirming that another few minutes had ticked by, she couldn’t quell her disappointment.
“Maybe he’s running late. He gave you his number for a reason. You can call the man, see where he is,” she told herself.
She looked at his number. Punched in the first digit on her phone. And then promptly tossed her phone onto the sofa beside her. She would not call Malcolm. He didn’t owe her anything. So what if he’d said he would show up today? It wasn’t like he wasn’t allowed to change his mind. If he couldn’t make it, he couldn’t make it. No big deal.
Tasia turned on the television and clicked to a news station. A well-coifed woman was talking about a stabbing on South Beach. Tasia tried to get into the story and forget about Malcolm not being there. But even as she listened to the news, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She was far more disappointed than she expected to be.
It was just that she’d really enjoyed their time together yesterday. It had been a pleasant change from the past few weeks.
“And now to Ken with the weather …”
Surprise, surprise. The weather forecast was more heat for Miami.