Flipped! (Spinning Hills Romance 1) (29 page)

Marissa had been too busy with her last minute job offer to understand her mom’s winding, rewinding, and fast-forwarding explanation, but it was something about Johnny seeing Melinda, fallen instantly in love, gallantly asking Abuela Rosa and Marty for permission to ask her out, and then saying he was wrong about her in front of a huge crowd of people, including her friends and frenemies, after only talking to her for two minutes.

Melinda was in a fragile place. It was the last thing she’d needed.

Johnny looked away and for one revealing moment, he looked like a lost little boy. But he quickly regained his confident demeanor and fixed her with a steady, serious gaze. “That’s not what I meant. We need to talk about what happened with Ana Maria first.”

Marissa didn’t want to talk about that. Not now. Maybe not ever. “We don’t have time to get into that. Let’s start with the immediate past.” She sincerely hoped he had a good explanation. Working closely with someone who had humiliated her little sister would be difficult. “What made you so sure you were into Melinda that you would involve so many people, only to blow her off in front of those very same after talking to her for a couple of minutes? It doesn’t make sense.” She looked at him as she spoke, but the intense, searching way he was watching her made her stomach feel funny.

He spoke in a slow, measured manner way as if single every word mattered. “I met a woman at a masquerade last year and I was convinced it was Melinda. I told Marty and Rosa I wanted to ask her out— to see if we were as compatible as I’d thought we were that night— but the whole thing took on a life of its own and got way out of hand. I realized it was a mistake, and I
know
Melinda realized it, too, but she was acting strange, and Marty blew up.”

Stunned at the mention of the masquerade, Marissa’s eyes flickered to the floor as she tried to push her own memories of that night aside. Revisiting those moments always left her feeling confused and uncomfortable. She focused her mind on what Johnny was saying. She remembered Melinda had gone off with a stranger that night and Marissa had caught them making out, heavily, after she’d gotten off the elevator. Had Johnny been that stranger? She glared up at him. “No wonder Melinda was hurt. Nobody wants to think they’re good enough to be groped, but not good enough to talk to!”

“
Groped?
” Johnny repeated, glowering at her.

“Yes. Groped. I saw you. You’re the troll I caught her making out with on that dark stairwell—”

“Wrong.” Johnny took a step toward her. His voice and demeanor were calm, but the angry fiery flash in his hazel eyes silenced her. “I’m the prince
you
made out with in the dark elevator.” He turned and left, leaving her unable to move, think, or breathe.

Her heart slowed to a thump. She took a breath. And then another. Her eyes flickered about, trying to find something to cling to. The serene green-gray walls, the stenciled tree, snowflakes, and leaves, the huge map and clock. She’d painted, stenciled, and hung everything herself in just one day. It was to be a haven for her students.

The minute hand on the large rusted metal clock she’d thought so enchanting now served as a warning. She had only a few minutes to get it together. But her thoughts and feelings were too scattered to easily gather, and too powerful to brush aside.

That night in the elevator had been special to her. A moment to feel impossibly and illogically at one with someone else. She’d never told anyone about it. It had been her Vegas. One night to let go of the tight reign she had on her life, and to do something out of character, before she committed to a relationship with Brian. Something that would remain where it happened.

And now Vegas was in her school.

S
am slammed the ledger shut. No matter how long he stared, the numbers wouldn’t change. He scrubbed his face, as if the action could erase his worries.

The blinking light on his office phone caught his eye, and he leaned over to scroll down the list of missed calls, eager for any distraction. His hand froze in midair when he saw the last caller was registered as “Red.”

He frowned down at the name.
Could it be . . . ?
His current circumstances certainly made it a possibility.

It probably wasn’t her, yet there he was, hoping. He hadn’t expected hope. Hadn’t expected much of anything, really, because he never thought about it. The past was past, and Sam wasn’t one to open the door on its more painful episodes when they wanted to stop by for a visit.

But this wasn’t a memory wanting to visit an unwilling mind. This was real and this was now. For a reason he couldn’t put his finger on, he knew that she’d be calling again.

Sam sat back and steepled his fingers, feeling like the cat who’d finally caught the canary. Except the canary was a cardinal, and he’d stopped chasing it ten years before. And now here it was, flying back into his life because he had something she wanted.

“What’re you smiling about?” his older brother, Dan, asked.

Sam snapped his eyes up. His two brothers were standing in front of him and he hadn’t even heard them come in.

“Yeah, you look evil.” Johnny, his younger brother, quirked his eyebrows in approval.

Dan crossed his arms and pretended to study him. “It’s actually a good look on you.”

“Yeah, you don’t usually do evil, but it brings out the flames in your eyes.” Johnny was at his desk, poking his nose into Sam’s papers, in two strides.

Sam discreetly pushed the ledger he’d been studying under some blueprints. “I can be evil when the mood strikes me.” He reached for a flyswatter and slapped Johnny’s hand when his brother reached for one of the blueprints.

“What the hell?” Johnny’s hand shot back.

“I keep it around just for you.”

“He’ll find out what you’re up to sooner or later,” Dan warned.

Sam felt the smile slide right off his face. Dan was right. They would both find out. Everybody would find out, in fact.

Because Spinning Hills was that kind of town.

 

“Thirty-four highly promising fixer-uppers,” Jessica repeated in a dutiful tone while glancing down at her cell phone.

Cassie nodded and tapped her pencil on the only empty spot on her desk, hoping she looked like it was business as usual. But her leg was knocking the bottom of the desk in beat with the pencil, making the top wobble. She reached down and stilled her leg. “Yes. Twelve he’ll be listing soon, and twenty-two in the pipeline, so to speak.”

“Well, he didn’t answer. I’ll try again in a few minutes.” Jessica didn’t bother to look up.

“Let’s keep trying. We need to move fast. We need to move
now
.” Cassie eyed Jessica’s cell phone, wishing she was fast enough, and mean enough, to climb over both their desks, grab it, and fling it out the window. She furrowed her brows at her office manager. Jessica was never this distracted. “Is something wrong?”

Jessica glanced up, looking sheepish. “Sorry. Billy decided to cut his own hair this morning and it was a disaster of epic proportions, even by Billy’s standards. It was unfixable. Sarah lent him her phone so he could text me and let me know how it goes at school because he was afraid other kids would make fun of him.” She eyed her phone. “He should be in his classroom by now.”

Cassie set her pencil down. “Oh, poor thing, do you have a picture? Maybe it isn’t that bad.” Jessica’s eight-year-old always managed to pull at her heartstrings. The boy was energetic, full of ideas, and impulsive.

“No pictures. He didn’t want evidence. It’s that bad. Anyway, it’s nine a.m. The bell has rung, class has begun, he can’t text me till lunch.” Jessica sighed, put her phone down, and brought her troubled eyes to Cassie’s. “It’s because I named him Billy, isn’t it? Billy’s are always getting themselves into trouble. I should’ve named him Rick. Ricks seem to think things through before they act. And they always seem to be a successful CEO of something.”

“No. He’s no Rick. He’s a Billy through and through. You had no choice. At least you didn’t name him Tommy—they tend to be impulsive
and
highly imaginative. You don’t have the nerves for that kind of a ride.” Cassie noted how her friend’s corn-yellow hair was smoothed back into a neat bun. Not one loose strand.

“I bet you’ll end up with a Tommy. You could handle it.” Jessica offered up the beginnings of a smile before glancing at her phone again. “Okay, I need to take my mind off Billy’s hair. Let’s start over. Why do you want
me
to call and meet with the owner if these thirty-four listings will take you to the top? You’re the intuitive real estate agent, I’m the efficient office manager, remember?”

Cassie uncrossed her legs to keep her right leg from swinging again. “Here’s the thing,” she said, folding her hands on top of her desk.

“Uh-oh. Billy always says that when he’s ’fessing up to something crazy.”

Cassie frowned at her friend. “I’m not confessing to anything, I just have a disclosure to make . . . a difficult one, so please hear me out.” She took in a quick puff of air and just as quickly blew it out. “The owner of the thirty-four properties I
absolutely must list
is Sam Amador. He was my best friend growing up and my first, well, love, I guess you could say. My sources tell me he’s interviewing realty firms this week and I need you to really focus when you call him again. We can go over the foolproof spiel I wrote down for you one more time if you think it’ll help.” Cassie got up and began to pace. “Oh! And call him on speakerphone this time, that way I can write down anything you need to know that might come up as we go along. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

Jessica’s expression had gone from sympathetic and understanding to concerned. “Is this the guy you never want to talk about? The ‘wound that still hurts’?”

“That’s him.” Cassie drew to a halt in front of Jessica. “Remember, the goal of the call is for you to set up a meeting. Our sales numbers are impressive, so it shouldn’t be hard. The houses he’s renovating are in Spinning Hills, a fun little town and an inner ring suburb of Dayton. Listing his properties will get my foot firmly in the door of the Dayton market and will skyrocket me straight to the top of our niche.” She pretended her hand was a rocket shooting up into the sky and whistled a jetting sound for effect.

Jessica remained uneasy. “Are you sure this is the best way to get your foot in the door? I mean, if the wound still hurts it means it hasn’t healed and—”

Cassie placed both hands on top of her friend’s tidy, formerly streak-free desk. “Selling nine of his properties would make us the number-one historic property realty firm in the state, Jess. Twelve would give us a nice lead. Thirty-four would leave everyone else in the dust. I want those houses. I want them bad. I just don’t want him to know it’s me who wants them.”

“You know you’ll have to meet him sooner or later, though. Or are you planning on hiring someone else to sell those houses?”

“I’m selling them. I know that market inside out. But there’s no reason to think that far ahead, so I’m blocking those thoughts.” Cassie pointed at the legal pad she’d handed Jessica. “Read it again and call, but don’t overthink it.”

“But don’t you want to talk about it a bit—”

“Nope. I can’t. I’m this close to unblocking those thoughts.” She gestured with her fingers just how close she was. “I have to keep on moving. That’s the key.”

“I won’t call if you won’t talk about it.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to get Jan from Columbus to do it.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jessica crossed her arms and sat back.

Cassie plunked back down on her chair and sighed. Her Columbus office was an hour away from Dayton. It wouldn’t work. “Fine. I’ll tell you all about it if you get the meeting. Deal?”

Seconds later, Jessica’s phone was on speaker, and the number to Amador Construction and Preservation was ringing. The more it rang, the tighter Cassie squeezed her hands together. It took her a moment to notice she’d stopped breathing.

A
click
sounded. Someone had picked up. “Amador Construction, this is Sam speaking, how can I help you?” a male voice asked. Cassie’s heart began pumping so hard, she could hear its pounding rhythm in her head. Her hands shook and she pursed her lips at them. She shouldn’t feel this way.

Sam Amador had been an integral part of her childhood and the memories she treasured. But for some reason beyond her control, a hidden place in her heart was still sore over how badly it had all ended.

Jessica cleared her throat and held the yellow legal pad up to her face. “Good morning, Mr. Amador. My name is Jessica Carter and I’m with Red Realty, a niche realty firm focused on matching special historic properties with their perfect future owners.”

Cassie zeroed in on her friend’s voice, focused on the number one, which was underlined, highlighted, and circled on the back of the legal pad she was holding, and tried to bring herself back from the land of the stupid.

“I’m calling because I understand you have a number of historic houses on your hands, and I’d love the opportunity to meet with you and discuss your goals and how we can help you meet them.”

Cassie beamed at Jessica. She sounded professional, yet warm, confident, and grateful for his time.

“Red Realty,” Sam repeated, a little too slowly. A little too . . . knowingly? Nah. She no longer knew him well enough to read that much into two words. It was all in her head.

“Yes.” Jessica nodded, as if he could see her. “Red Realty. Perhaps you’ve heard of us? We’ve had great successes and built wonderful partnerships in the Cleveland, Toledo, Columbus, and Cincinnati markets, and we’d love to do the same in Spinning Hills and the Dayton region. I’d like to set up a meeting.”

“Sure,” Sam answered. Cassie and Jessica stared at each other, eyes wide, in a moment of shared triumph. Katy Perry’s “Firework” was playing so loudly in her head, Cassie wondered if her friend could hear it. Jessica began doing a little dance in her chair.

“Put your owner on the line and I’ll be happy to set up a meeting with her,” he finished.

Her?
The song in Cassie’s head stopped with a loud screech. Her eyes again met Jessica’s, who dropped the legal pad. Cassie dove toward it and scribbled,
Her?
on it before looking up at Jessica
.

“Her?” Jessica squeaked into the phone. Cassie flailed her hands and mouthed,
no
. She hadn’t meant for her to repeat that. She bent over the pad again.

“Yes.
Her,
” Sam repeated
.
“The owner of Red Realty.”

“Oh.
Her
,” Jessica repeated, throwing a hand up in frustration while she waited for Cassie to finish her mad scribble.
Owner not available or needed!!!

“I’m sorry, but the owner isn’t available right now, but I can assure you a meeting with her won’t be necessary. She’s . . . a silent partner.” Her voice faltered. “But I assure you our Cincinnati office is well equipped to handle your properties, Mr. Amador. We’ll outline a sales plan you can be enthusiastic about.”

“
Silent
partner? Uh, okay.” A soft chuckle came over the phone and Cassie paused to stare at the air above it, half-expecting to see Sam’s head floating over it, looking right at her. He had never been the mocking type, but there was something in his voice . . .

Cassie shook her head before finishing her scribble,
Set up meeting!
“What is a good day and time for us to meet, Mr. Amador?” Jessica asked.

“She’s listening, isn’t she?” Sam asked. Cassie’s eyes widened and then narrowed. Was that a smile in his voice?

Jessica snapped her pencil in two. “Excuse me?”

“Tell Cassie I never took her for a coward,” Sam replied.

Angry, red-hot sparks went off in Cassie’s head and traveled throughout her body. He knew. How did he know? And why was he being a jerk about it? Cassie took two quick steps and grabbed the phone out of her friend’s weak hand, but as she did so, her dead therapist’s advice echoed in her mind.

She counted to ten,
patiently
, and considered her actions,
carefully
. “This is Cassidy Morgan. My associate tells me you’d like to speak with me?”

“I knew you were listening. And I knew you didn’t have it in you to be a silent anything.”

Cassie closed her eyes and counted to ten, again. The words,
we’re both professionals, Mr. Amador, let’s begin by treating each other as such
, were at the tip of her tongue
.
True words. A perfect comeback.

But she and Sam had been the best of childhood friends, and Sam’s words were just as true. After all, he had somehow known she was listening. If they were both going to be truly professional in their dealings, she’d have to acknowledge the old relationship while setting the tone for their possible future business relationship. He didn’t have to know that if she could crawl through the airwaves, come out the other side, and hit him with his phone, she would.

 

Oh yes
, Sam thought.
I can do evil.
He leaned back in his chair and tried to think above the many feelings coursing through him. Part of him had gone back to a time when he’d known Cassie like the back of his hand, and he couldn’t help but enjoy the situation. Ten years might have passed, but there was no doubt in his mind she’d hit him over the head with his own phone right now if she could.

“Sam?” she finally spoke.

“I’m here.” It was a normal response, but something within him recognized their deeper truth. He’d always been
here
, in every possible way. And she’d left without giving him a chance to explain. He felt his grin disappear.