A Total Mismatch

by Madelaine Grant

  He turned and stared at her. Then he smiled as he surmised the problem. “I’ve seen you without clothes and enjoyed the sight.” Coming closer he coaxed, “It’s one of the pleasures of being with you.”

  Taking a deep, breath, Sam decided to forget her inhibitions and threw off the covers. “I wouldn’t want to deny you any pleasure.” Then she stood and, holding her head high, found the overnight bag and walked to the bathroom. “I won’t be long,” she assured him, closing the door.

  “You have all of ten minutes,” he called as he pulled on his sweats. He’d take his business clothes along to change into later.

  Splashing cold water on her face took some of the sleepiness away. She brushed her teeth and dressed in record time in jeans and a black sweater. Running a hand through her hair, she tried to give it a semblance of order. She’d have to make an appointment with Carlos for a cut and color soon. Looking around the spacious bathroom, she noted the glass-enclosed shower at one end and the whirlpool tub at the other. With a brown and white marbled countertop and a similarly toned floor, it was a lovely space. Even the towels and washcloths matched everything else. She contrasted it with her jumbled, old-fashioned bathroom, where nothing matched anything.

  When she exited the bathroom, Jordan had already made the bed and put her other clothes in a neat pile on a nearby chair. She stuffed them into the overnight bag and went in search of him. He was in the kitchen, pouring orange juice from a container into two glasses.

  “Sorry I don’t have the real thing,” he said, handing her one glass.

  “No problem.” She took the juice and drank it. “Thanks. That was refreshing.” She noticed his kitchen had the latest in stainless steel appliances and granite countertops. The cherry-wood cabinets and kitchen table were equally sleek and elegant. Sam almost wished there was one thing that could be improved–but there wasn’t.

  He rinsed the glasses and put them in the dishwasher. “I hate to rush you. It’ll be different on the weekend. We can lounge on the boat all day and night if we choose.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” she murmured. Maybe she’d get into bed at home for a short nap. Yes, that was an excellent idea.

  When he parked in front of her home, he leaned over and gave her a kiss. “I’ll pick you up at the gallery at five on Saturday. Bring along warm clothes. It might get chilly on the water. Sneakers would be a good idea.”

  Waving goodbye, she climbed the front steps and let herself in. She’d feed the cats and then sleep a little longer. It was much too early to think of anything else.

  The next time Sam looked at the bedside clock, she gasped in dismay. It was after nine and she usually left the house at nine thirty for work. Coming to a quick decision, she dialed Peter’s number.

  “Peter, I’ll be a little late this morning,” she began.

  He started laughing. “It must have been a busy night.”

  Feeling a bit embarrassed, she avoided a direct answer. “I can probably get there by eleven.”

  “No problem. After all, you closed for me last night.”

  “Thanks, Peter,” she murmured.

  Since she’d most likely forego a lunch break, Sam whipped up a cheese omelet, popped two pieces of bread in the toaster, and fixed a salad. While she munched away, she studied her kitchen. It needed a major overhaul, she concluded. Besides new appliances and flooring, the sinks and countertops should be replaced. Not that she wanted to impress Jordan or anything, she assured herself. It just made good sense to put money into the brownstone if she was going to continue living there.

  Should she ask Jordan for advice? She pondered that question for several long moments. No, it was better to leave him out of her everyday problems. She’d manage on her own. Maybe Peter would be the one to advise her on how to start this major renovation. He’d hired the contractor to modernize the gallery and, when it expanded, had used the same company. Yes, that was the way to go.

  Before leaving for work, Sam telephoned Carlos at the beauty salon and made an appointment for a touchup and haircut on Monday afternoon. That would give her the morning hours to paint. She’d hardly made any progress on that large geometric piece started weeks ago. Did she miss the time she spent painting? Trying to be honest, she had to admit she’d been much too busy with Jordan and the belly dancing jobs to think about making art. This was a temporary situation, she assured herself. Before long, Jordan would disappear, and so would the belly dancing. Then she’d turn to the main focus in her life–painting.

  She should feel pleased that eventually things would return to normal. But for some unknown reason, she didn’t. Rather than dwelling on this, she hurried out of the house and headed for the gallery.

  It was late in the afternoon when Sam consulted Peter. “I’m planning on renovating my kitchen,” she announced. “I know we used a contractor for the gallery. Do you think he’d consider undertaking a job like that? It needs a complete overhaul.”

  “Guess that money’s burning a hole in your pocket. And yes, your kitchen could use work. Why now? Just curious.”

  What could she say? That she was embarrassed by the contrast between Jordan’s place and her own? “Uh, I think this is the best time since I have that extra money. If I don’t spend it on the house, I’ll be tempted to buy more clothes.”

  He couldn’t help laughing. “You could put the money in the bank for a rainy day. Or invest it in mutual funds and watch it grow. You don’t have to spend it on a new wardrobe. But I see your point. And, yes, that contractor would be a good choice. I’ll get his contact information.” He walked into his office to retrieve it.

  “Thanks, Peter,” she said, following him.

  He wrote down the man’s name and number. “Let me sit in on the planning stages and also the money arrangements. Unless you have someone else . . .”

  Sam knew he was thinking of Jordan. “I’d be grateful if you could do that. I have absolutely no idea what the renovation will cost. If it’s more than the money I’ve recently earned from the belly dancing jobs, I can take out a loan, I guess.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t do that,” he said, stroking his beard with a serious expression. “You’re already paying off a mortgage on the place. Maybe you can cut corners with appliances that are not top of the line but adequate. Let’s see what Doug Hanley has to say. He did a great job for us at the gallery. Mention that fact when you phone him.”

  “I will,” she promised. “And thanks again for helping me with this.”

  “Sam, you know I’ll support you no matter what.”

  Her eyes grew moist at his words. Peter was one caring friend.

  ~ ~ ~

  When Sam returned home that evening, the answering machine was blinking red. She didn’t think Jordan would be phoning. Could it be someone from her family? After feeding Mushi and Pepper, she listened to the message.

  “Sam, this is Beth. You’re probably still at work. Give me a call. I’ll be at the restaurant tonight.”

  Beth? A surge of excitement coursed through her. Beth’s voice didn’t sound angry. But it didn’t sound friendly either. Sam played the message over again. She tried to figure out her friend’s mood. Finding this difficult, she decided to eat dinner first and return the call later.

  ~ ~ ~

  Jordan was alone in his office Friday evening when a call came through from his sister Diane. “Hi, Diane. What’s going on?”

  “Well, for starters, Vance finally proposed to Amy, and they’re officially engaged. He’s already given her a two-carat diamond ring that is simply gorgeous.” Diane’s voice oozed with delight.

  “I’m not surprised. It’s what she wanted,” Jordan said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I only hope she’s not marrying on the rebound again.” He wasn’t particularly enthused about the match. Vance took numerous business trips, and he wondered
if his sister would get enough companionship. Then again, perhaps she wouldn’t get bored with the guy if he wasn’t hanging around the house all the time. Time would tell.

  “I think he’ll be good for her!” Diane exclaimed. “They’ve set a date for the wedding. It’s the Labor Day weekend. Amy didn’t want a long engagement.”

  Another holiday weekend ruined, Jordan thought with an inward groan. To Diane he said, “I guess they’ll have a quiet ceremony with just family and a few close friends. After all, it’ll be Amy’s third marriage.”

  “But its Vance’s first,” Diane protested. “He wants a big affair and is willing to foot the bill. Now they just have to find an available place. Which won’t be easy. It’s only four months away. Of course, you’ll be in the wedding party.”

  Jordan closed his eyes and sat back in his office chair. No way could he squirm out of this wedding, as much as he wanted to do so. “Whatever Amy wants me to do will be fine.” No point in fighting the inevitable, he thought wearily.

  “What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?” Diane inquired, changing the subject. “Amy, Lori, and I thought we’d stop by your office with sandwiches and drinks. We haven’t seen you in ages, and we miss you.”

  Sitting up quickly, Jordan thought about all the preparations he needed to make before picking Sam up at five. Besides, he’d be running around for several hours trying to finish pressing work issues. “Tomorrow won’t work, Diane. Sorry about that. I’m taking the boat out for the first time this season, and there’s too many things I need to do. What about next Saturday? That would work for me.” He knew Sam would be busy at the craft beer convention most of that weekend, and although he planned to see her in the evenings, the days would be free.

  She let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, if that’s the only time you have. I’ll check with Amy and Lori to see if it works for them and get back to you. We were counting on seeing you tomorrow. I’m coming into town to help Amy look for a wedding dress since Carl is away for the week. Lori’s alone, too, since Greg is out-of-town. It would have been fun to get together.”

  Jordan sensed Diane was trying to make him feel guilty, but he was determined to avoid that trap. “Yes, it would’ve been great seeing all of you and I’m looking forward to next Saturday. Let me treat everyone to lunch at Mario’s. I miss their pizza–it’s the greatest.”

  “Okay, I’ll check with the others. Have fun on the boat. I imagine you won’t be alone.”

  He sucked in a quick breath. Diane was trying to find out more about Sam. “You’re right on that score. You’ll get to meet her soon, I promise.”

  “She must be something else to keep you so well occupied,” Diane commented. “I’ve never seen you as involved before. Can’t wait to see her in person.”

  “Since I’ll be taking her to Andrea’s wedding, you’ll have your opportunity,” he answered. Briefly, he wondered if his sisters would take to Sam as they had to Lara. Then again, did it really matter? It was his life, and he planned to live it the way he saw fit, whether his family approved or not.

  Chapter 23

  “Hi, Beth. It’s good to hear from you.” Seated on the edge of her kitchen chair, Sam clutched the phone. She’d spent a nerve-wracking half an hour wondering how her friend would respond before making the call. Would she be cool but cordial? Or would she revert to her former friendliness?

  “Well, I phoned to let you know Omar and Hassan Berdoga want to meet you for dinner Tuesday evening next week at our restaurant. They asked me to phone you personally and invite you to join them at the Blue Monkey. It seems they’ve hired you for a craft beer convention and need to discuss details.”

  Beth sounded polite but a bit distant, Sam thought, trying to decipher her friend’s mood. However, it was better than the frigid silence she’d experienced the last few weeks. “Thanks for calling, Beth. I’ve missed talking to you. And yes, I’m available Tuesday evening.”

  “I’ll reserve a table for four. Max Beltzer will be joining the group. I’ll see you on Tuesday at 5:30,” Beth said before hanging up.

  It hadn’t been much of a conversation, but at least it was a start. Feeling slightly hopeful about the situation, Sam began her preparations for the sailing weekend. She packed a bag, phoned her neighbor to look in on the cats, and then made herself a cup of tea before going to bed early. She was still tired from the night before when she’d slept at Jordan’s condo. Was it because his place made her feel that they lived in two different worlds? Looking around her own home, she couldn’t help noting the huge contrast in style and atmosphere. She enjoyed kicking off her shoes and walking around barefoot. Could she imagine doing that in Jordan’s pristine environment? Probably not. As she brooded on the matter, she realized it would be impossible for her to live in that spotless and perfectly decorated apartment. Evidently, this was the type of home Jordan needed for his life. But it would never suit her at all. The huge chasm looming between them brought on a deep feeling of sadness.

  The more she considered things, the more depressed she became. Finally, she threw up her hands in disgust and decided to let it go. She’d get as much fun as she could from the relationship while knowing it wouldn’t last. With this decision, she began to relax enough to fall asleep.

  ~ ~ ~

  Jordan spent the morning catching up on work and then went food shopping for the sailing weekend. He’d made reservations for Saturday night at a marina a short cruise from where the boat was docked. They’d have dinner there instead of trying to cook in the small galley. He wanted the weekend to be a relaxing one.

  Thinking about Sam’s reaction to his apartment, he wondered if there was a way to reassure her. The more he thought about it, the more puzzling it became. Most women appreciated the fact that he didn’t throw his clothes around or live like a messy bachelor. Why didn’t she see the advantages in his innate love of order? By contrast, her place was a disaster. Except for her studio, which she kept under fairly tight control. Evidently, she didn’t care what anyone thought about her way of living. Sam was literally thumbing her nose at convention and letting people know she’d do it her way or not at all.

  Jordan wondered what kind of family she’d grown up in, and if she was simply rebelling. She hadn’t been very communicative about her parents or sisters, except to confide she found them difficult. At least he’d be meeting her uncle and his family soon. Maybe he’d get some answers at that time. Meanwhile, he was looking forward to having her all to himself for the next two nights.

  ~ ~ ~

  Saturday whizzed by quickly for Sam. The gallery was busy with people who were in a shopping mood. The fine crafts area was crowded with shoppers choosing gifts for upcoming events. Maybe the clear, sunny weather had something to do with it. Whatever the cause, she loved seeing the gallery doing well.

  When she had a free moment, she told Peter about Beth’s phone call. “At least she didn’t sound angry, and I’m going to meet with the Berdoga guys and Max at the Blue Monkey Tuesday evening. I guess that’s progress, although I wish things could be the way they were before.”

  “Do you want me along for moral support?” he asked.

  She hadn’t considered it until that moment. “That’s not a bad idea, although I hate to bother you.”

  “Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “Besides, I don’t see you outside the gallery anymore.”

  Was Peter annoyed that Jordan monopolized her time? He didn’t seem upset. Then again, it was hard to know Peter’s feelings. “I don’t think my relationship with Jordan will continue much longer. He and I have such different styles of living. I visited his place the other night. It’s so beautifully decorated. I find it difficult to imagine myself living there. I’m much more casual. We’ll get our movie nights back soon.”

  Peter regarded her quietly while he stroked his short, gray beard. “Is it what you really w
ant? Or are you afraid of commitment?”

  She sucked in a long breath. He was aiming a little too close to the truth.

  “There’s always bound to be differences between people. Opposites attract for a reason. We benefit from knowing others who are not like us. I have a strong hunch you’re embarking on this renovation project because of Jordan’s influence. Am I correct?” he continued.

  Sam wanted to wriggle out of this discussion. Peter was much too perceptive for her peace of mind. “I don’t know,” she hedged, not quite meeting his glance. “I’ve been thinking of sprucing up my place for a while but didn’t take it seriously until this extra money came in.” It was a partial truth at least.

  “Okay, I’ll let you off the hook. Don’t worry about getting back to our movie nights. An old friend from my teaching days, who is also a movie buff, has been keeping me company,” Peter said with a smile.

  ~ ~ ~

  Jordan entered the gallery a few minutes before five. Sam knew the moment he was there by the tingle of awareness that pricked her nerve endings like a low electric shock. Her whole being vibrated to a higher frequency while warmth infused and softened all those secret places only he knew existed. Did she really think she could walk away from him as she’d so blithely told Peter? Who was she kidding?

  He came right up to her while she was straightening her desk before leaving. “Hi there,” he said softly.

  Feeling a bit overwhelmed and suddenly shy, she said, “You’re prompt. I’ll just be a minute.” He looked good in a blue denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up and khaki pants that hugged his strong, muscular legs.

  “I see you’ve dressed for boating.” He nodded his approval.

  “Except for these.” She pointed to her black leather flats. “My sneakers are in the overnight.” She’d worn a pair of new jeans and a black jersey to work. With a simple silver necklace and earrings, it was appropriate for the gallery and, minus the jewelry, also for sailing.