Foolish Notions Page 12

  “I said stop.”

  “Green, like jade. I can also tell you the color of her hair and the scent of her perfume.” She pushed him hard on the chest with both hands as she gritted the words out. “You were holding her the way you hold me.” Her hands turned into fists as she pounded against him again. “Apparently mind-boggling sex isn’t enough for you.”

  “Stop.”

  “Apparently, giving you my heart wasn’t enough either.”

  “Samantha.”

  She didn’t say anything more. She couldn’t. She turned and sprinted down the beach.

  “Shit,” he shouted into the wind. God, what had he done to her?

  Chapter Twelve

  Two weeks later, James sat in his office high above town. His arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned back in his chair. He glanced at his watch—twenty more minutes to kill before his next meeting. As he took a deep breath, he rotated the chair in a half circle, stopped the motion with his feet, and stared out the huge window. He didn’t feel up to arguing over the minor details his client was complaining about. In his business, details like this inevitably cropped up and would be hashed out, until an agreeable resolution was reached. But at the moment, all of it seemed too petty. Trivial. Unimportant.

  Normally, he enjoyed negotiating immensely. It was his specialty. However, his mom’s illness had put things in perspective in an abrupt, cruel way. The satisfaction brought on by long hours of hard work, the respect, and the money, didn’t seem so important anymore. He would give it all up if it meant his mom would be cancer free. He found it brutally ironic how one could work one’s entire life for something and in a single moment it suddenly becomes insignificant.

  He drummed his fingers against his chin as he thought about his mom. He had made it a must to stop in and see her at least twice a day. If he knew he was going to be home late, he would run home for a quick lunch. To her surprise, he always managed to find a different bouquet of roses on the way, too. It was one of the small pleasures she looked forward to.

  Marie didn’t come out of her room much, especially a day or so after a treatment. The chemo left her too queasy to navigate the stairs and drained what little strength she had left. Despite all of it, amazingly her spirits were still up. Physically she was frail, but mentally she was strong. He smiled gently. She never stopped surprising him. She was as fearless as a warrior and as virtuous as an angel. She was his hero.

  James rubbed his eyes briskly with the back of his hands as his thoughts shifted to Samantha. Where did he start with what was happening between them? She, too, was fighting a battle, but it wasn’t against some merciless disease; it was with her feelings for him. She was refusing to accept that she still cared for him. Refusing? That was putting it mildly—she was downright in denial. The fact that she wouldn’t acknowledge her feelings surprised him, because the chemistry between them was unrelenting. For him, it was undeniable no matter what the circumstances were.

  He stood and began to pace. He couldn’t even sit still when he thought about her. She got under his skin and inside of him. She unintentionally overpowered all his senses, leaving him to muddle through what was happening between them in complete uncertainty. He was mystified, baffled. He had no idea how to think about what was happening when it came to their relationship.

  To say that things were tense was an understatement. She hadn’t spoken to him once since the night on the beach; in fact, that was the last time she had even looked at him. He knew she was very busy tending to his mother; however, there were times when she could have spoken to him, if for nothing more than to touch base on how his mother’s treatment was coming along. She had left that completely up to his mom.

  Moving to the bar, he poured hot coffee into a white cup that had the company logo in gold wrapped around it. As he stirred in a teaspoon of sugar, a slow smile formed. Sure, he was a little confused about what was happening between them; however, there was no confusion about what he wanted to happen.

  His smile grew even bigger. What Samantha needed wasn’t space or time—he had given her plenty of that—but a reminder of what they had shared. He brought the cup to his lips and sipped the warm liquid. She wasn’t going to like it, and it sure wasn’t going to be easy, but they weren’t going to be avoiding each other anymore.

  He felt a remorseful twinge deep within him, but didn’t allow any guilt to take hold; he had given her more than enough time to settle down, he reminded himself. Somehow, he would find a way to get back into her good graces. And once he did, she better watch out. He wanted her back and he would get her. Starting right now he would stop at nothing until he got what he wanted.

  For the moment he was very satisfied. He had a plan and was now in control of the situation; it was a position from which he dominated, so his confidence soared. His sheer conviction was what made him able to return to his desk and prepare for the client who would be walking through the door any minute.

  “Mr. Taylor, Mr. Malone is here to see you.”

  James stared at the speakerphone, lost in his thoughts.

  “Mr.—”

  His hand shot out and pressed the bar at the base of the phone. “Yes, send him in.” He stood and buttoned his suit, straightened his tie, and moved to the front of his desk. “Will, it’s a pleasure.” He held out his hand when a tall, lean man walked through the door. “I hope your flight was uneventful.”

  “Smooth the entire way. Very nice jet, thank you.”

  “Not a problem.” He gestured to a large wingback chair in front of his desk. “Care for something to drink?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “I can have Shelly order us some lunch.”

  “I ate on the jet.”

  James moved to the other side of his desk, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and sat. Flipping open a file he said, “Then let’s get down to business.”

  It took an exhausting hour of reassurance and several heavy doses of James’s hard-to-resist persuasion, but he’d finally managed to satisfy Will Malone. Their contract was still open and in the negotiations process, but basically his company had it. He’d even talked Mr. Malone into having a quick drink before he walked him to the elevator.

  Just as the elevator doors closed and James turn toward his office, his pager went off. Slipping it off his hip, he glanced at the number. He waited until he was in his office and the door shut before he reached for his cell phone in his pocket.

  “Do you have any information for me?” he asked, hoping that Al would be able to give him some good news. Or as good as news could get when there was a snitch lurking about the company.

  “Nothing substantial that’s going to lead us to who’s leaking information.”

  “There’s nothing on the tapes I had sent over?”

  “Nothing.”

  James punched the air with his fist as he began to pace about the room impatiently. “Shit.”

  “I hear ya. I was surprised when all the video checked out clean. I watched every single one of them and I noticed nothing out of the ordinary or I wouldn’t have believed it myself. You run a tight ship and that reflects on when your people are coming and going. I went a step further and took the liberty of following a few of your managers over the last several days, and they’re clean, too. If they’re getting information, I don’t think it’s because one of your employees is selling out.”

  James pressed his hand against his forehead and pinched his eyes shut for a moment.

  “I think you’re right. Someone has hired an investigator to do the dirty work.”

  “Now what?”

  “I have to find out how they’re getting the information. I want to look at your computer systems. I think that would be the next best step.” Al paused. “Can that be arranged?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll need all access codes and passwords.”

  “I’d like to be there when you access the information.”

  “I understand,” Al answered. “Contact me when ev
erything is ready and you want to meet. I think the sooner the better.”

  “It’s going to take me at least a day to get everything. And when we meet it’ll have to be after hours.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll call and let you know when.”

  James clenched the cell phone tightly before he tossed it on the desk, seething with rage. Whoever was responsible for this would pay dearly, he would make sure of it. He pictured McDonald. He would take the man down if all this led back to him.

  * * * * *

  Marie sat in the deep settee, each elbow resting on the arms, crocheting a pale green blanket. “You know, I’m feeling much better today.”

  “I told you, you would,” Samantha said from the kitchen, where she was filling a large plastic watering container.

  “It wasn’t that I doubted you, dear.” The older woman looped the yarn twice over her needle. “I was so ill I couldn’t imagine ever feeling good again.”

  “I know.” Bless her heart, Samantha thought as she lifted the container out of the sink and carried it into the adjoining room. Marie had been such a trooper through it, too. Never once had she complained about anything. And there had been more than one occasion that she could have cried like a baby. God knows, she herself would have broken down if she had to go through half of what Marie has gone through so far.

  “It’s a good thing I’m feeling better.” She shook her head. “Staying in my room was starting to depress me.”

  “I know. Something as simple as coming downstairs is a nice change, isn’t it?”

  Marie nodded in agreement. “You’ll never know how nice. I’ve been so thankful for the break in between treatments. I’m dreading this next round. I’ll undoubtedly be quarantined to my room again.”

  “If you’d take—”

  “I’m not taking a handful of pills, so don’t even suggest it,” Marie interrupted sternly. “I know you want me to, but I hate the thought of it. I already take enough with what’s mandatory.”

  “I want you to have the least amount of side effects. The medication will help take the edge off, that’s why I’m so adamant about you taking them.” Samantha moved around the room watering the houseplants. “But ultimately it’s up to you whether you take them or not.”

  “Thank you for respecting my wishes, but I’ll pass.”

  Samantha turned toward Marie and smiled lightly. “Do these miniature roses get water?”

  “Just a little, dear. We don’t want them to get root rot.”

  Samantha went back to the sink and refilled the pitcher. She added several drops of plant fertilizer to the water. “The side effects that you have now are more than likely all you will get.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s a relief or not.” Marie tugged on the green fiber to unravel a portion of it from the ball that rested on the floor at her feet. “James has been working late these last few weeks.”

  Samantha made no comment.

  “I think he’s been leaving very early, too.”

  “Really, I hadn’t noticed.” It was the truth. She hadn’t noticed the hours James was keeping because, frankly, she didn’t care. She rolled her eyes the second she’d finished the thought. Okay, there might have been a few nights she wouldn’t allow herself to fall asleep until she heard his car pull into the drive.

  But that was it. She cringed. That wasn’t true, either. She had also heard him almost every morning out in the hall, checking on his mom. She had even caught him cracking her door and checking on her, too. Of course she had pretended to be asleep.

  Marie’s hands and crochet hook stopped moving as she watched Samantha. “Are you okay?

  “What? Yes, I’m fine.” Samantha pulled herself together long enough to pinch off a dead leaf and stare at it.

  “I hate it when he works so hard.”

  “He works hard all the time.”

  “Yes, but not this hard. He needs to take a break.” She shook her head. “My husband used to say that hard work kept a man young, but I don’t think he meant this.”

  “He knows his limits.” She held her voice steady.

  Marie sighed loudly. “I’m not too certain that he does.

  That’s what bothers me.”

  “He’ll take care of himself.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” She sighed heavily again. “He might burn himself out though.”

  “Not likely. He loves his work.” She shook her head in disagreement. “James was meant for the corporate world. It races through his blood like an addictive drug.”

  “That he does. But, I know all this is hard on him.” She shifted restlessly in the chair. “It’s hard for him to see me sick.”

  Samantha’s smile weakened. “Yes, it is. But he’s coping with it. We all are.” She turned to Marie and looked at her thoughtfully. “You know what really amazes me? It’s the ability we have to muster up strength when we didn’t believe there was any.” She touched Marie’s shoulder. “He’s fine.”

  Marie nodded, but spoke quickly. “But he’s alone. He doesn’t have anyone.” She fidgeted with the yarn. “I have him, but who does he have? Whom will he turn to when it’s too much for him?” Her eyes found Samantha’s and settled.

  Samantha moved away from her and swallowed the gagging knot lodged in the back of her throat. “He has friends.”

  “Friends can only do so much,” Marie insisted. “Besides, his friends are mostly employees and coworkers; they’re not true friends. There’s a difference.”

  “Marie, I promise you, he’ll be fine.”

  “I just worry about him.”

  “I know you do.” She smiled as she shifted the subject. “Now, what sounds good for dinner?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You can say that every evening, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to fix anything.” Samantha went back into the kitchen and stored the watering can and fertilizer under the sink. She made sure she put everything back exactly where she had found it. Ginger would have her head on a platter if she didn’t.

  Marie raised her shoulders. “You might as well not. It goes to waste anyway. Every bite tasted metallic, like I’m sucking on a coin. Why bother eating if it doesn’t taste good?”

  “You need to eat for your strength.” She looked across the room. “You’ll get your appetite back and when you do it will be twofold.”

  “I hope you’re right. If I lose any more weight I’ll look like a skeleton.” She tugged on the yarn. “What about take-out?”

  “Do you have something in mind?” Samantha asked hopefully. She hadn’t thought to suggest ordering out when she had been trying to find something that Marie could keep down. She had been trying to keep it simple. Perhaps what she needed wasn’t something plain and bland but something packed full of flavor.

  Marie wrinkled her nose. “Not really. But you’ve cooked every night for the last few weeks. I think you need a break.”

  “Nonsense. What else do I have to do?” Samantha said as she searched through the cupboards. She was hoping that some unforgotten recipe would pop into her mind when she saw the vital ingredient. There had to be something around here that Marie would eat.

  “Well, if you put that much energy into it, the least I could do is eat it.”

  Finding nothing, Samantha turned and said, “If you could have anything your little heart desired, what would it be?”

  Marie thought for a moment. “Chinese sounds good. I love the one down on the boardwalk.” She gestured with her hand. “I think James has a menu in the drawer by the kitchen phone.”

  When the front door opened, then closed, Marie stuffed the blanket along with the remaining yarn into a tote. “How was your day?” she asked when James walked into the room.

  “Long, but very productive.” His meeting had ended earlier than expected. This had been the first evening in weeks that he had been able to get home this early. “It’s good to see you out here.”

  “It feels good to be out here.” She
gestured at her tote. “I’ve even got a little crocheting done, too.”

  “Wonderful.” Seeing her like this made him almost forget that she had cancer. Despite the fact that her hair was thinning and she had lost weight, she looked like her old self. Recently, her life had been nothing more than a struggle to get from one day to the next. It was nice to see this normality, for her sake.

  James looked around for Samantha and spotted her in the adjoining kitchen, where she was digging through the junk drawer. Her hair was down, shielding her face from him as she intently searched for something. He would love to thread his fingers through the golden strands, pulling them back at the nape, so he could place a kiss just beneath her ear. Her pulse would beat wildly against his lips in response to his touch. The image caused his body to tighten.

  “We’re having Chinese take-out. Do you want any?” Marie asked.

  James blinked and brought himself back to attention.

  “Chinese sounds good to me,” he answered, reluctantly taking his eyes off Samantha. He sifted through the mail, dropping a few piece onto the table and tossing the rest into the trash.

  Marie rose to join Samantha, who was still in the kitchen trying to stuff the bulky contents of the drawer back in so she could close it. “Did you find it?” she asked as she moved beside her.

  Samantha looked up for the first time and waved the bright, yellow paper menu in the air. “Yes.” She caught James’s glance.

  “Hi.”

  “It’s good to see you.”

  Samantha held his eyes momentarily before she looked back down at the menu. Positioning it in front of Marie, she said, “What sounds good?”

  Marie scanned over the options.

  “How about some soup?” Samantha suggested, pointing to the egg drop soup. “This is very light and would be easy on your stomach.”

  Marie shook her head.

  Samantha pointed out a few other items, and when Marie turned them all down, she asked, “Do you see anything you like?”

  “Not really.”

  “We can order something else if Chinese doesn’t sound appealing,” James said from across the room. His mother’s appetite had decreased as her treatments progressed. Finding something appealing was becoming a challenge. He would ship it in from China if that were what she wanted. He clicked opened the gold latches on his briefcase after he set it on the coffee table.