by Gerri Hill
“So am I.”
“Yeah…but you have company and I don’t. And where did you find the model?”
“The model? Ashly?” Cassidy nodded. “Yeah, she does kinda look like a model, doesn’t she?” Cassidy took a sip of her coffee. “She’s a friend of a friend.”
“Blind date?”
“No, no. Not really a date. Well, I did go out with her a few months ago, but there was nothing there. No, I had dinner with friends this week—Macie and Karon—and Ashly was there. They’re coming out this afternoon to spend the night, but Ashly was free on Friday so she came out early with me.”
“So you just have what? An unlimited list of women to choose from?”
“She’s young. And she’s going to have a hell of a hangover this morning. She drank an entire pitcher of margaritas by herself.”
Laura made a face. “I like margaritas, but two is my limit. I’d rather have a cocktail with bourbon.”
“Yeah, me too. So how was the steak?”
Laura stared at her. “How did you know I had a steak?”
“It smelled divine.”
Laura nodded. “It was. Medium rare. My mother likes hers like shoe leather, but I refused to ruin the steak. She complained the entire time she ate it, although not one bite remained.”
“I love a good steak.”
“How was your chicken?”
Cassidy laughed. “So we smelled each other’s dinner, huh?”
“It had an unusual aroma, though.”
“Green jerk chicken.”
“Ah. An old girlfriend made that for me once. I’ve never tried it myself. You’ll have to share your recipe.”
“Gladly. Ashly wasn’t too impressed. A little too spicy for her.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“I know, right?” Cassidy’s gaze was drawn to the bird feeders. “The flowers out by the pool look great, by the way.”
“Good. I think there’s room for two more, if you’re game.”
“Sure. Would you have time this week?”
“Maybe. It depends how long the front beds take. I still have to go get flowers for those too.”
“Oh, which reminds me. I put an envelope with money in the closet out back.”
“Where you keep your pool stuff?” she asked without thinking.
Cassidy laughed. “I see you found the floats, huh?”
Laura did have the good grace to blush. “Sorry. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. Make yourself at home. But yeah, I put it on the top shelf. I put a thousand dollars in there. Is that enough?”
“Good God! You have no idea how much flowers cost, do you?”
“Not a clue.”
“I told you last week that little flowerbed only cost thirty bucks.”
“Yeah, but I want to pay you for your time and labor.”
“You already are.”
“That’s just for mowing. That didn’t include hauling stone and bags of dirt and stuff.”
“You don’t have to pay me extra, Cassidy. We had a deal, remember? I get to use your pool in exchange for manual labor.”
“No. I feel like I’m taking advantage of you. Let me pay you something. Just a one-time thing for the flowerbeds.”
Laura tilted her head, studying her. “What is it that you do for a living, anyway? You said you were the boss.”
“Anderson Heating and Air Conditioning…at your service,” she said with a smile.
“Oh, God. That’s you?”
“What?”
“All those obnoxious ads and billboards?”
Cassidy laughed. “Obnoxious? But hey, if your AC goes out and it’s a hundred and one, who are you going to call?”
“I’m going to call Anderson and if your butt’s not there in twenty minutes, my service call is free.”
Cassidy smiled. “See?”
“I never imagined a woman owned that company.” Laura stood up. “You want another cup of coffee?”
“Please. Black with just a pinch of sugar.”
Laura went into the kitchen. What was a pinch of sugar? She poured coffee into the two cups and added a full teaspoon to hers and about a half of one to Cassidy’s. She didn’t see the point, but whatever.
Cassidy sipped it immediately and nodded. “Perfect.”
“So? The company?”
“Oh. Family-owned. My grandfather started it. My father and brother followed. I went to college—business and marketing—and made a few changes.”
“Like?”
“Well, expanded it quite a bit, for one. We’ve now got ten hubs around the Metroplex. My brother manages the crews, hires and fires. I manage the corporate office downtown. That’s where everything is coordinated. We keep the servers there still. I haven’t outsourced that yet.” At Laura’s blank stare, she continued. “We’ve got a pretty extensive online system for making appointments.”
“Are there that many people who have AC problems?”
“Not just that, but yearly maintenance scheduling. And new homes. We have contracts with several of the major builders in the city to install new units.” Cassidy held her hand up. “Boring stuff, really. What about you? You said you were taking a break.”
“Yeah,” she said slowly. “I…well, I quit my real job a few years ago. I hated the whole office atmosphere, dressing up, all that crap,” she said, remembering the suits she used to have to wear. “Investment firm,” she said by way of explanation. “But really, I’m a writer.”
“A writer?”
“Yes. And I’m taking a break.”
“What does that mean? You’re in between books?”
“Yes. I’m in between my first one and my second one.”
“I see. So you’re published.”
“Yes.” Laura shifted uneasily in her chair, debating whether to tell Cassidy the whole truth. She decided there was no need to confess her eight-year drought. “It’s been a few years, but I’m taking my time with the second one.”
“I’ve never met an author before. I don’t actually read much, though. Would I have heard of your book?”
“It was a murder mystery type thing. My heroine was a medical examiner. The intent was to have a series, like Patricia Cornwell.” It was Cassidy’s turn for a blank stare. “You know…Kay Scarpetta.”
Cassidy shook her head.
“Well, anyway, my heroine didn’t quite have the personality to compete with those kinds of books. I haven’t been able to come up with a second book for her.”
“What’s the name of the book?”
“Murder by Day. Day was the man’s last name. The murderer,” she explained.
“Hmm. Don’t think I’ve heard of it. Was it successful?”
“Mildly. I cracked the Top Twenty for one week.”
“So you’ve got like…writer’s block then?”
“I guess you could say that.” Laura sighed. “Okay. So it’s been eight years.”
“Eight years? Good Lord! Eight years of writer’s block?”
“Yes.”
“What is that, anyway? Is that like something that writers made up? Like, you know, as an excuse for not writing?”
“What are you talking about?”
Cassidy shrugged and Laura wondered at the smile playing on her lips. “Writer’s block. If you’re a writer, you write. If you’re a painter, you paint. Do they have painter’s block?”
Laura narrowed her eyes at her. “Really?”
“If you’re a car mechanic, you fix cars. Do you think they come into work one day and say, you know what, I just can’t fix this car today. I’m totally blocked.”
“Are you serious? Really?”
Cassidy laughed. “No. Teasing, of course. I can’t imagine writing a book. Good for you.”
“A car mechanic,” she muttered disgustedly, causing Cassidy to laugh again.
“Well, I guess I’ve taken up enough of your time this morning. I need to go see if Ashly made it through the night.”
>
“You don’t know?”
“No. I didn’t look in on her this morning.”
“Oh. She wasn’t—”
“In my bed? No.” Cassidy smiled. “She wanted to be.”
“Well, who could blame her?” Their eyes met and Laura felt a blush from head to toe. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded,” she said quickly with a shake of her head.
Cassidy laughed. “You’re blushing.”
“I know I am,” she snapped.
“Don’t forget to pay yourself,” Cassidy called as she walked off. “Don’t worry about receipts. I trust you.”
Laura watched her until she rounded the corner of the fence, then sunk down in her chair with a groan. “I’m such an idiot.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I love your house, Cassidy,” Karon said as she linked arms with her. “How can you stand your apartment in the city after this?”
“I will admit, it’s getting harder and harder to leave here,” she said, surprising herself with the answer. She’d grown up in Dallas. Had gone to college in Dallas. Her family was in Dallas. Their business was in Dallas.
But that business was now practically running itself. If she wanted to, she could spend more time out here. Her upstairs office had everything she needed if she wanted to work from home a day or two a week. The problem was…she didn’t think of this as “home” yet. This was still a weekend place she invited friends to and held parties at. Her apartment—where she’d lived for the last six years—still felt like home. When she’d decorated the house, everything was new. She hadn’t taken anything from her apartment. There was nothing personal here. Maybe that’s why it didn’t feel like home to her.
Macie and Ashly were in the pool, standing in waist-deep water, leaning against the side. Karon joined them, walking gracefully in, using the steps. Cassidy opted for the diving board. As she sprang high in the air, she peeked over the fence, but Laura was not on her patio. She splashed into the water headfirst, surfacing near the others. It was a warm afternoon, bordering on hot. No wonder Laura wasn’t outside. Then she smiled. Maybe she was upstairs in her room. Maybe she was watching. She gave an impish grin as she stared at the windows, but she saw no movement and the blinds were closed. She was oddly disappointed.
“I was just commenting on your flowers,” Macie said. “Ashly tells me your neighbor does your yard for you.”
“She does. She’s great with flowers. You should see her patio and flowerbeds.”
“Why on earth would your neighbor do your yardwork?”
Cassidy shrugged. “I asked, she agreed. I do pay her, you know.”
“She’s kinda…different,” Ashly interjected.
Cassidy frowned. “Different?”
“I mean, I only saw her the one time, but…” She looked at Macie and Karon. “Baseball cap, dirty shorts. She was filthy!”
“She was working,” Cassidy said, feeling the need to defend Laura. “In the dirt.” And Cassidy happened to think that Laura looked really cute in her baseball cap.
“Is she gay?” Macie asked.
“I assumed…the way she was dressed,” Ashly said.
They both looked at her and Cassidy nodded. “Yes, she is.”
“Well, that’s a plus for a neighbor,” Karon said with a grin. “A dyke who does yards.”
Cassidy cringed. Laura? A dyke? They were so off base. Sure, she was a little on the tomboy side. She certainly wasn’t like these women. She’d never seen Laura with makeup on. In fact, she’d seen her only in her cutoff jeans while working and her gray, cotton shorts while having coffee on her patio—with a T-shirt and no bra. And yes, she wore a baseball cap while working and she had bedhead in the morning. She smiled at that thought, then noticed that the others were looking at her. Her smile faded.
“Not a dyke. Tomboy.”
“Well, I guess we don’t have to worry about her stealing you away. A tomboy is so not for you.”
“She was kinda cute, though,” Ashly conceded.
Cassidy smiled again. Yeah, Laura was kinda cute, especially with that streak of mud she’d had across her cheek.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Laura pushed the tree limb aside and went deeper into the woods. They were thick and green…and heavy, much like the air around her. It was a hot and humid day and her tank top clung to her skin. Back here in the woods, there was no breeze to stir the air.
Nothing looked familiar to her, though, and she knew the only way she’d find the leaning tree was if she blindly stumbled upon it. She had to remind herself that she’d been seventeen the last time she’d walked out here. It was kinda strange knowing that Cassidy’s father had owned the woods all that time. She didn’t remember ever seeing anyone out here, but surely, over all those years, Cassidy and her family had come out, if only to check on it. Although she did remember Cassidy saying she’d never had the opportunity to come out, so maybe she hadn’t. She made a mental note to ask Cassidy the next time she saw her.
Sunday morning, Cassidy had popped over as usual, but they hadn’t even finished their first cup of coffee when her company had come outside. She’d gone back over—albeit reluctantly, Laura had noticed—and entertained them. They were out at the pool until nearly one and by three, all was quiet after they’d headed back to the city…Cassidy included.
Laura didn’t quite know what to make of their friendship. Was it even a friendship? Did a few minutes sharing coffee time count? Still, she liked her. Their time chatting was always entertaining. She wondered, though, why Cassidy felt the need to always have someone with her over the weekends. Whether it was only one—whoever she happened to be dating that week—or another couple…or a party, as she’d warned Laura there’d be one over the upcoming long weekend. Laura hadn’t given the holiday much thought. When she lived in Dallas, there was always a cookout at someone’s house. She supposed she could do burgers for her and her mother. Or…she could invite Carla over. But that would mean dealing with the twins.
“No,” she murmured. Why ruin the holiday?
She kept walking, shocked to come upon a barbed wire fence. Had she made it all the way across Cassidy’s property already? She looked around, trying to get her bearings. She had a moment of panic, fearing she was lost, then reminded herself it was only ten acres. Surely she could find her way out again.
She looked overhead, finding the sun. It had been one o’clock when she’d left. She figured Cassidy’s pool boys would be finished by the time she returned. Not that she was anxious to get in the pool or anything.
“Yeah, right,” she said with a smile.
But she did have flowers to plant. She’d gone into town yesterday and picked up two new planters and several flats of flowers, along with the potting soil mix that she used. She would get that finished today, then cool off in the pool. Tomorrow, she would tackle the front flowerbed. She’d already unloaded some of the stones and bags of compost and mulch for the larger bed. She figured she could get that one done in a couple of hours. Thursday would be mow day. Friday morning she’d try to finish up the smaller bed nearer the driveway. Everything should be ready to go for Cassidy’s weekend party. However, trying to cram all of that into a few days meant there’d be no time to have her mother over to the pool. She’d shoot for next week on that.
She heard the tap, tap, tap of a woodpecker on a tree and looked around, trying to find him. He was hammering on a small, dead oak, and the ringing of her phone startled both him and her. She found herself smiling, though, as Cassidy’s name appeared.
“Hey,” she answered.
“Hey, yourself. What are you doing?”
“Trespassing,” she said with a grin.
Cassidy laughed. “Figured you weren’t in the pool. My guys should be there by now.” She paused. “Trespassing where?”
“I’m out in your woods. I’m trying to find the leaning tree.”
“And the leaning tree is what?”
“Something from my childhood. I used
to climb it. Great sunset view.”
“That’s right. You said you used to play out there when you were a kid.”
“I did. Almost every day. Did you really never come out here?”
“Not that I remember. Certainly not when I got older. I think my father almost forgot he had the place.”
“We never knew who owned it. When I was a kid, I mean. To me, it was like this giant park that I had all to myself.”
“I can hear the smile in your voice,” Cassidy said, causing Laura to smile broader.
“Good memories.” She leaned against a tree. “Why are you calling, anyway?”
“Oh. Just…you know, checking in.”
“If you’re worried I won’t have your yard looking presentable for your party, don’t be. I’ve got a handle on it.”
“Not worried. Have you spent all my money yet?”
Laura laughed. “Hardly. I got two more planters to match the other two by the pool. I plan to get those planted this afternoon, after your pool guys leave.”
“Okay.” A pause. “So…listen. Why don’t you plan on coming to the party on Saturday?”
Laura’s eyes widened. “Your party?”
“Yes, my party. You might, you know, meet someone.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. I’ve seen the women you’ve had over.”
“That’s right. Bad taste,” Cassidy said with a laugh. “You can still come over,” she offered.
“Okay, again, I’ve seen your women in their bikinis. No way I’m going to be seen in a swimsuit next to them. That would just be wrong.”
“I can’t picture you in a bikini.”
Laura grinned. “Why are you picturing me in a swimsuit?”
“I mean…I just meant…you know…I’d bet you were a one-piece kind of gal.”
“When I wear a swimsuit, yes.” That statement was met with silence and she smiled. “What? Skinny-dipping is not allowed in your pool?”
Cassidy cleared her throat. “Yes, it is certainly allowed. I enjoy it myself.”
“I know. So did the model,” she said without thinking. Damn!
But Cassidy laughed. “So which windows can you see the pool out of?”
Damn, damn, damn! “Mostly my writing room,” she confessed. “Not that I spy on you or anything.”