“I don’t know if my parents would go for that. . .” Hero mentioned.
“It’s your 18th birthday. How could they say no?”
* * *
Xander stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway, a towel wrapped around his waist. He felt good, his muscles warm and relaxed from an extra hot shower after a long day of work. To his complete surprise, a blonde head was stalking down the hallway toward him.
“There you are!” Jaimie said, clearly frustrated that he hadn’t been somewhere else.
Apparently his state of undress wasn’t an issue, as she didn’t even blink. That was a relief, though it would be nice if he could stop ending up unintentionally half-dressed in front of the women in this town. Xander stared at her for a moment, confused. It was the second time she’d been in his house today. His dad wasn’t home, so he wasn’t sure what she was doing wandering around inside.
“Did you let yourself in?” he asked.
“Of course,” she answered as if it was a stupid question. “No one answered the door.”
“You didn’t think that maybe no one was home?”
“No. Your truck is here.”
“And if I’d been somewhere with my dad?”
“I’d have left.”
Xander paused. Her confidence and sense of entitlement were disconcerting. “Is there something I can do for you? Did Hero write me back already?”
“No. She didn’t have time. We were too busy planning her birthday party.”
“Then,” he sighed, trying to keep his irritation out of his voice. “Why are you here?”
“I need to talk to you,” she said, once again making it sound like the answer was obvious and he shouldn’t have had to ask.
“About what?” he gritted his teeth. Her condescending tone was starting to set him on edge.
“The party, of course.”
One eyebrow went up. “Oh, yes, of course.” Xander came to two conclusions. First, Jaimie was more confusing than any other woman he’d ever met, including Jessica. Second, Evan was the most patient, easy-going person on the planet. He thought for a moment while he tried to put together a question that would elicit a real answer from her.
“Why do you want to talk to me about her party?” he tried.
“We’re going to have it here,” Jaimie informed him.
Xander had had enough. “No,” he said firmly.
Jaimie was taken aback. “Excuse me?” She had prepared for any excuse or protest, except for this one.
“I said, and I repeat. . . No.”
“But it’s for Hero,” she stated in disbelief.
Xander gathered she thought he would be happy to do just about anything for Hero. It was true, and he didn’t actually have any problems with the idea. He just thought Jaimie’s attitude needed a severe adjustment.
“That’s wonderful,” Xander said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“But. . .” Jaimie looked confused and off balance.
Xander responded with a raised eyebrow and silence.
“You’re like, in love with her,” the pushy little blonde continued.
His eyebrow raised higher.
“Aren’t you?” she asked.
“Something like that,” he responded.
“Then why would you say no?”
Her confusion drew her face in on itself and Xander decided it wasn’t the best look for her. He laughed at the thought and she frowned. Her expression brought him back to the matter at hand.
“Because you’re rude,” he said bluntly.
“Excuse me?” Jaimie went from confused to livid with the speed of a Lamborghini.
“First off, you barged into my house without an invitation.”
“I knocked, no one answered,” she interrupted.
“And how does that constitute permission to answer?” Xander asked.
“I do that at all my friend’s houses,” Jaimie said matter of factly. “What’s next?” she asked, a warning in her voice.
“What’s next?” Xander was a bit surprised that Jaimie considered him a friend, since they hardly knew each other and he was pretty certain she didn’t like him very much.
“Yes, you said first off. I answered it, so what’s next.”
This woman was very difficult to argue with. “You didn’t ask,” he said simply.
“Ask what?”
“If you could have Hero’s birthday party here. You just assumed it would be ok,” he began.
She interrupted again. “Fine. Can we have the party here?”
Xander sighed. “I have to talk to my dad. But probably, yes.”
“Good. Are we done?”
He blinked several times, off balance. “Uh, sure,” he said uncertainly.
“Then it’s settled. Call me after you talk to your dad.” She turned around and left, leaving him standing half-dressed in the dim hallway. Halfway down the hall she stopped. “Oh, one more thing, Adonis,” she said without looking back.
Were they still calling him that? “What’s that?” he asked.
“Nice towel.”
* * *
A week later, Xander once again stood on the dock of La Hacienda Noblé, this time with his father. Their tiny rowboat bumped gently against the side. Jared DiBenedetto had offered to pick them up in his boat, but they had declined. Jared didn’t really understand why, the wooden craft they used looked like it was about to capsize at any moment. Hero watched from her window. She could see them talking, but her mother adamantly refused to let her go down with her father. Xander caught her eye and smiled up at her. He patted his pocket, which contained her reply to his letter. She blew him a kiss.
“Zachariah McConnell,” Xander’s father said, shaking hands with Jared. “You can call me Zach.”
“Jared DiBenedetto. Thanks for coming. I’ve always felt business is better handled in person than over the phone.”
Zach nodded. He was the same kind of man. “So, Jaimie, I believe it was, said something about having Hero’s birthday party at the Brighton House.” Much to Zach’s amusement, Jaimie had shown up to the house again the morning after the exchange Xander had related to him, impatient for an answer.
“Yes,” Jared said. “Normally we just rent out Hellespont for the evening, but apparently the two of you have built your own ballroom and the girls are convinced there’s no better place. I’m sure it has nothing to do with your son’s presence.” He winked at Xander, who shrugged innocently, then grinned.
“Of course,” Zach laughed. “I appreciate your being so understanding about that little mishap. I assure you I’m working it out of his hide.”
“It’s practically slavery,” Xander assured Jared humorously.
“No harm, no foul. We appreciated your son’s maturity about it as well. Not many men his age are so well mannered.”
“He gets it from his mother,” Zach said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Jared noticed the hint of sadness that flashed through his face and nodded in sympathy. He changed the topic back to the business at hand.
“So this party. You’re certain that you’re comfortable with the idea?”
“We weren’t planning to have an open house quite so soon, but we definitely want to show the people of Vista Bay what we’ve been doing with their historical monument.”
“You understand that you will likely have several hundred people wandering through your home? Caterers, decorators, the DJ, guests.”
“That’s not a problem. We’re eventually planning to open the main rooms to the public anyway. We’d like the place to be sort of like a museum, you know.”
Jared looked thoughtful. “That’s generous of you. Perhaps another day we could talk about how you would run that. I know some people in the area with experience in curation and museum administration who might be able to help you with the accuracy of it.”
“That would be great, as long as they’re willing to work with your daughter.”
“With Her
o?” Jared was confused.
“Yes. We’ve agree to let her do the interior design, with veto privileges.”
“You truly are a generous man. Are you sure you want to entrust a teenager with a project like that?”
“I’d trust my son, I’m willing to give your daughter a chance.”
Jared thought about it. If nothing else, it would certainly look good on a college application or a resume. “Perhaps, then, under her mother’s supervision, she might begin in advance of her birthday. I would have to run it by my wife, Anna, of course.”
“Of course, I’m fine with that.” Zach shrugged. “The rooms we’ve finished that won’t be open to the public could use some attention.”
Xander interrupted. “Dad, we should get going.” Beyond looking longingly at Hero’s window, he had been watching the sky and for the first time since they moved in, it was becoming grey very quickly. A light wind had picked up and the waters of the bay were rougher than usual. Zach checked out the conditions and nodded. Xander waved goodbye to Hero and prepared the boat.
“Sorry, Jared. I’m certain we can hammer out the details of the party later, but you are definitely welcome to celebrate in our home. Do you have a card so I can contact you directly?”
“Certainly,” Jared replied, pulling one of his business cards out of his wallet and handing it over. “I look forward to discussing our mutual interests further.”
“As do I,” Zach said as they shook hands again.
“Goodbye, Mr. DiBenedetto,” Xander said as his father boarded the boat.
“Have a good day, Xander.” Jared replied as the two men rowed away. As well muscled as they were from all the hands-on construction work they did, rowing still proved an effort for them. It used different muscles than it took to swing a hammer. Still, they seemed to be making good time as they pulled away across the bay. Hero’s father went back up to the house.
Unsurprisingly, Hero was waiting for him as the top of the stairs. He shook his head at her and made her wait as she followed him into the house. Anna DiBenedetto was waiting in the living room. She wasn’t too certain she really wanted to allow the party to take place at the Brighton House, but it was Hero’s 18th birthday and her baby girl would only have one.
“What was decided?” she asked her husband in a haughty voice.
“Hero’s future,” Jared returned, knowing the vague answer would drive both his wife and child crazy.
“What do you mean?” mother and daughter asked in chorus. Their suspicious tones were almost identical and Jared laughed.
“Well, if it’s okay with you, Anna, the McConnell’s have invited Hero to oversee the interior design of the Brighton House. Not just for the party, either. They want her to design their living space and the restoration that they intend to open to the public as well. Starting immediately.” Before his wife could protest, he continued. “She will, of course, only be allowed to be there, or anywhere else in town, under your supervision.” Privately he thought that it might mean both his wife and daughter would spend someone else’s money instead of his for a while. It was win-win for him.
Momentum
“Absolutely not,” Xander argued as he looked at a curtain sample Hero had picked out. The two young lovers, his father, and her mother had been working together for a week and a half.
“I don’t see why not,” Hero replied, fingering the material. The curtains were muted gold, a color she thought would go well with the cherry wood trim in his room. Not to mention how they’d glow in the light of sunset.
“They’re paisley,” he stated, as if it explained everything.
“You should see them hanging. They’re beautiful,” she answered a little absentmindedly, imagining the same curtains hanging in her own room. She continued to run her fingers over the cloth.
“They’re still paisley. We’re not putting them in my room.”
“I thought you wanted me to choose your curtains?” Hero asked him pointedly, letting her voice sound a little irritated.
Her mother and Zach looked up from across the room, where they were discussing how to best acquire furniture that matched the pieces in old photos of the Brighton House that lay on the table in front of them. Neither Xander nor Hero noticed their audience.
“I do,” Xander began. “But I veto the gold and paisley.”
“I suppose you want boring black curtains,” Hero accused. “You’re such a boy.”
“How about burgundy?” he asked, trying to mollify her a little.
“Not if you ever want me to go up there again,” she said. Her eyes flashed stubbornly.
Xander fought back his frustration. He was trying to compromise and just getting confused. “Fine. Why not?”
“I am not going to hang out in the Best Little Whorehouse in Texas,” Hero informed him matter of factly.
“What?” Xander was startled.
Anna smirked. Zach fought down a laugh. They returned to their conversation, planning out what Hero and Anna would be doing that day. So far they had decided the two women would meet with a talented local carpenter to commission a few hand crafted replicas of the original Brighton House furniture. They had also identified a few local antique shops that might have a few original pieces of furniture from the estate, sold when the last owner died.
“It’s a musical. You’re not the only one who can make obscure references,” she pointed out.
“No, I know that. I mean, I’ve heard of it. But I don’t get what it has to do with curtains. Are you saying burgundy would make my room look like a bordello?”
The way Hero raised her eyebrows was answer enough. Xander sighed, and tried a different tack.
“So, what are my other options?”
“How about one of these?” she asked, showing him a few more options she had picked out, knowing full well they were more likely. One of her hands rested on the table and Xander happened to put his over hers as he leaned down to look. She smiled to herself, but didn’t let him see it. Zach coughed across the room, something that sounded suspiciously like “propriety” and Xander sighed and took one of the samples from her with both hands. After a few minutes of further discussion he chose a dark grey cotton velvet curtain that she thought suited his personality as well as the decor she had in mind.
Xander was feeling pretty good about successfully maneuvering the conversation from a burgeoning argument to a conclusion that satisfied them both. He had to admit that Hero had pretty good taste, but the gold paisley was simply far too girly in his estimation. Particularly in his bedroom. A grin worked its way across his face. Working with her was almost as fun as dancing with her, though very different. He liked that she had her own opinions, spoke her mind clearly, but was willing to listen to reason. It seemed promising for the future. The feeling of pride in his chest for having successfully navigated what he considered their first fight surprised him. It made him want to kiss her. The inability to do so under the watchful eyes of their chaperones was irritating. A quiet growl earned him a startled look from Hero, but he reassured her with a smile and a subtle kiss into the air. She returned the smile and nodded toward their parents. He looked up to discover they were being observed. Anna was tapping her lips with one finger and his dad grinned at him.
The doorbell rang. Hero immediately perked up.
“That must be the delivery guy!” she exclaimed and hurried for the door. Anna followed her out of the room.
Xander was confused. They weren’t expecting any deliveries he knew of. “Did someone order pizza?” he asked. Zach laughed.
“Come on, we’ll probably have to carry the pieces upstairs.”
“Carry what?” Xander asked suspiciously. It couldn’t have been the curtains. They’d just chosen them and it’d be a silly thing to deliver.
“Your bed,” his father answered.
“Umm. . . I haven’t ordered a bed yet,” he pointed out.
“Hero picked it out for you last week. She wanted to surprise you.”
&nb
sp; Xander thought about making a comment about paisley curtains and decided he could afford to be generous, since he’d won that particular argument.
“Alright, let’s go see what she got me,” he said.
By the time they made it to the foyer, Hero and Anna were posing with one of the boxes. On the front was a picture of the bed, a queen sized red mahogany four poster. Hero presented the image Vanna White style while Anna’s face looked strained. Xander wasn’t certain whether it was because she didn’t share her daughter’s excitement or if the weight of the box was too heavy. He took a deep breath and looked closely at the picture before he spoke. His first impression was to say no outright, but he thought he owed her more than that after vetoing her curtain choice. Somewhere in the back of his mind a quiet voice wondered if he’d been set up.
“What do you think? Hero asked, her eyes twinkling merrily.
He paused, still taking in the picture. The posts, while tall, ended in rounded spheres and didn’t have a complete frame at the top, so no drapes hung down the sides. The headboard and footboard were thick and looked polished to a fine finish. Though the bedding in the picture wasn’t to his taste, that wasn’t an issue. After all, it didn’t come with the bedding.
He nodded. “Alright, you win. I like it,” he admitted. It was true.
The magnificent smile Hero flashed him was the best part.
* * *
The next day Anna went out on her own to meet a planner for Hero’s birthday party and left her daughter and Xander under Zach’s supervision. Zach supervised from his work in the hallway while the two teenagers, dressed in old clothes, were alone in the living room applying the first coat of new paint to the walls. Plastic sheets carpeted the floor and blue masking tape protected the natural wood of window and door frames.
They had been working for a couple of hours and dots of white paint made tiny starfields on their skin and clothes. Xander was in old pyjama pants and one of his quintessential tight, black tees and Hero thought he looked somehow gorgeous and adorable all at once. She was wearing cut-off jeans short enough that Xander whistled at her playfully every time he went back for more paint, and a tank top. During one of these trips when she happened to be getting paint as well, an idea came to him. He stole a quick kiss from her as she stood from setting down the paint can. She smiled, checked to make sure no one could see them, then took another. Xander grinned with a twinkle in his eye and as she turned, painted a white stripe across the back of her shorts. He quickly danced back a couple of feet.
The West Wind Page 10