Following Love (6 page)

As a distraction she shuffled the papers on her desk in the guise of looking for a particular invoice. She found it and handed it to him. Much to her relief he leaned up and walked back to the seat across from her, sat and studied the paper.

Then midway through another one of their discussions his cell phone rang. He excused himself and answered. Dena glanced away, recognizing a personal conversation when she heard one. There was obviously a woman on the other end and as per his end of the conversation, he wasn't too happy to hear from her.

When he hung up, he apologized and prepared to get back to work when his phone rang again. A shadow of frustration darkened his face as he answered, obviously expecting a repeat of the previous conversation. But apparently it was someone different. He agreed several times, apologized then promised to be wherever as soon as possible.

He stood as he hung up. “I've got to go. We'll have to work on this later. But feel free to talk to Darius or Jordan, either will be happy to answer any questions you might have.”

“Sure,” she said.

He walked to the door then turned. “By the way, I got the cookies. Thanks, they were delicious.”

“You're very welcome.”

As he left Dena closed her notebook then turned back to the monitor screen she'd been scanning before he arrived. She sighed, realizing that her focus had been shot. Frowning she cupped her head in her palm and leaned on the desk. What was wrong with her? It seemed that every time she saw Julian her hormones raged like a high-school student on prom night. She needed to do something about it. One way or another she needed Julian Hamilton out of her system.

I
t was the perfect interruption.

Ten minutes more in the office with Dena, and Julian was sure he'd need crutches to walk out. He shook his head miserably. His brothers had known exactly what they were doing when they'd hired her. He'd forgotten that it was the start of a calendar quarter and since they each took turns in the office each quarter and it was his turn, he wasn't sure how long he was going to last.

And the brilliant idea he had of going into her office stone-faced and aloof disappeared as soon as she'd looked up and smiled. This had to end. There was no way he was going to survive much longer.

“You're late,” Ellen said as she met Julian in her driveway with her hand on one hip and the rolled up plans slapping against her leg. “Your crew dropped off some supplies and is long gone.”

“Evening, Mrs. Peyton,” Julian said.

“Don't ‘Evening, Mrs. Peyton' me. I called you over two hours ago. You're losing daylight and you know that I need this grill up and running by next month.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, smiling and shaking his head. He got out of his truck and walked around to the backyard. She followed. He looked around the open space seeing the more than adequate job his crew had done the Saturday before. Gone were the remains of the horrendous cinder-block wall and the hunks of dried cement. The patio, which he had put in a year earlier after another Ellen Peyton disaster, was back to its original state.

He walked over and bent down, checking the cracks and dents unavoidably left by the heavy machinery. Rubbing his hand over the surface he eyed the level plane. It was as he suspected, he needed to do some prep work before beginning work on the built-in grill station. “Did you see the plans Jordan worked up for you?”

“Yes, they'll do just fine with a few alterations.”

“Changes?” he said, knowing that there would be.

“A few. I had one or two new ideas, but all in all, it was a good start.”

Julian nodded. “I'll have him call you or stop by tomorrow if his schedule isn't too tight.”

“Not necessary, we've already discussed my alterations. He sent over revised plans this afternoon.” She unrolled and gave Julian the altered plans. “Mind you, I'll be happy to do it myself if you're too busy.”

“No, not at all, Mrs. Peyton. I've already put you on my schedule, but if I get tied up at work either Jordan or Darius will be over to continue the job. We know that you'd prefer working with one of us.”

She nodded, slightly disappointed that she wouldn't be more hands-on involved. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Thanks, but I grabbed a bite earlier,” he said evasively but with good reason. Many an evening, he or one of his brothers sat in Ellen Peyton's kitchen enjoying a tasty home-cooked meal after working on something in her home. He headed back to his truck to get his supplies.

“Are you sure? I was just about to start dinner. I believe it's one of your favorites, smothered pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy, collard greens, homemade apple pie and sweetened iced tea.”

Julian's mouth watered instantly but there was no way he could stay knowing that Dena would be home soon. He needed to stick to the plan. He'd come to level the cracked and gouged patio surface and prep for the next phase of work. “Maybe next time,” he said, hoping she didn't hear his stomach growl as he lowered the back flap of his truck.

“Suit yourself, but I'll make a platter for you just in case you get hungry later.”

Julian smiled. “Thanks, Mrs. Peyton, that would be great.”

“So how do you like my niece so far?” she said, changing the subject drastically. “I knew you'd want her as soon as you met her.”

Taken off guard, Julian, without a firm grip on the load, turned and wrenched his back as he tried to lift a bag of cement. He dropped it. “I beg your pardon?” he said, wincing from his strained back muscles.

“And of course I just knew she'd be perfect for you,” Ellen continued.

“Huh?” Julian added, presuming now that he must have been sucked into an alternate reality.

“Dena, my niece. I knew she'd be perfect and that you'd want her in the office as soon as you met her. Her credentials are impeccable. She knows all the office computer programs, she's a hard worker, organized and detail-oriented, and did I tell you she also has her law degree? She's not practicing right now, of course, but still, I knew she'd be an asset to Hamilton Development Corporation. I knew you'd want her.”

“Yes,” he said, then muttered, “I certainly do,” just before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “She is a definite asset.”

Ellen smiled, seeing Julian's reaction. “My sister's only grandchild, she's had some recent heartache, poor dear. Mind you, don't let those construction workers of yours give her a hard time or you'll have to answer to me. And don't let that tough-as-nails demeanor of hers fool you, she's as sweet as my homemade apple pie. Oh, Lord, speaking of apple pie, I'd better check on my pie. It's still in the oven. Do you need me for anything?” she asked.

“No, ma'am. I'll call you if I need you,” he said, giving the standard reply. Ellen nodded and hurried back into the house. Julian sighed with relief. The conversation had taken him off guard. He knew of course that Dena was Ellen's great-niece, it was just the way she'd put it that had taken him off guard.
She's perfect for you.
She didn't know how right she was.

His thoughts started down that path and he could feel his body harden. Dena was plaguing him again and she wasn't even here. There was no way he was going to keep his vow if she was around. He had to do something.

Now focused on work, he unloaded a few bags of dried cement and carried them around to the back of the house. He stopped when he was nearly run over by a young child on a training-wheel bicycle.

The young child stopped suddenly, making a loud screeching sound of bad brakes with his mouth, then looking up at Julian with a helmet ill-fitted to his tiny head. “Hi, who are you?”

“Hello,” Julian said with laughter in his voice. “I'm Julian Hamilton.”

“Hi, Mr. Toolyian Hamydon. I'm Dillon, I'm three.” He held up four tiny sausage fingers, rechecked and held one finger down. I'm almost four, see.” He let go, allowing the fourth finger to pop up.

“Well it's nice to meet you, Dillon.” He shifted the heavy bags of cement in his arms and continued to the work site. He dropped the bags and looked around again. A load of red bricks, a wheelbarrow and several other supplies had been left by his crew. He visually checked everything and made a mental picture of what needed to be done to get the job started.

As he stood with his hands on his hips he realized that Dillon had come up beside him and was mimicking his stance with the huge bicycle helmet still on his head. He chuckled. “Okay,” he said, looking down at the top of the helmet.

“Okay,” Dillon repeated in a squeaky deep voice, trying to imitate Julian. “I guess we better get started, right?” he asked, looking up at Julian as his helmet slipped forward to cover his eyes.

“Yep, I guess we'd better.” Julian, realizing that Dillon was by his side for good, didn't even bother dissuading him. Julian reached into his tool belt and pulled out his work gloves.

Dillon looked at his tiny hands and frowned. He reached up and tugged on Julian's jean leg. “I don't got no globes.”

Julian smiled wide. “You don't have any gloves.” Dillon shook his head sadly. Julian walked back to the truck and dug in the glove compartment and pulled out a pair of men's soft suede leather gloves, a gift from an old friend. Dillon, right by his side, looked at the gloves and frowned.

“They're too big,” he complained.

“We'll make them work,” Julian promised as he pulled out a strip of Velcro and wrapped it around the suede gloves. When he finished the fit was perfect, albeit visually outrageous.

Now gloved and ready, together they gathered more tools. Julian carried a mixing shovel and trowel, and Dillon carried several rags. When they went back to the job site Julian strapped on his tool belt and Dillon took off. Moments later he returned with his play-school plastic tool belt and his brand-new yellow hard hat. “Ready,” he said proudly.

Julian burst with laughter.

 

Dena left the office far later than she intended but she was so engrossed with the work set before her that she hadn't realized that dusk had begun to settle. She hurriedly left but drove home with thoughts mingled with tomorrow's chores. It felt good to get back to work and to just for a few hours not think about her troubles.

That's why she loved law so much. She enjoyed being totally engrossed, of straightening and figuring out problems and finding workable solutions while staying within the parameters of the law. As she drove down her aunt's street she noticed an unfamiliar truck in the driveway. She pulled up beside the truck and got out.

Dena climbed the stairs and opened the front door instantly feeling the cool of the air conditioner. “Hello?” she called, then listened for the typical response. Nothing. She called out again.

She walked into the empty kitchen and looked around, spotting the mess. Never a spoon out of place, there was definitely something wrong with this picture. Three soiled plates were in the sink, one of them being Dillon's favorite construction plate. Pots and pans were still on the stove and a plastic-wrap-covered, half-eaten apple pie was on the island counter. Odd. She heard a man's laughter and hurried over to the window and looked out.

Julian was holding his hand up and being splashed by Dillon as he tried to hold the water hose up to his mouth to get a sip. As water splashed everywhere Julian reached out and took the hose, bent down and held it while pinching it so that only a small stream would flow out. Dillon leaned in and sipped the water then giggled as it ran down the front of his already wet shirt.

Then Dillon reached out and, following Julian's exact instructions, grabbed the hose and pinched it then reveled as a small stream flowed. He held it up to Julian who leaned in and took a sip. Then Dillon's little hand slipped and again water splashed everywhere. Both laughed and fell back onto the wet grass.

Dena laughed with them as she closed the curtain and went to the back door. She opened it and walked outside, finding a new scene. Julian was holding a big fluffy white towel as Dillon dried off. He spun around and wrapped himself up, giggling as he went. He looked up, seeing his mother, and shrieked with joy.

“Mo-omm,” he hollered, “looked what I did. I made it all by myself, but Mr. Toolyian Hamydon helped, too. I held the water and mixed the teement and put it on the brick and stamped it down with the big rubber thing.” Finally out of breath, he stopped as his little body slammed into her and she picked him up still wrapped into the towel.

She kissed his cheek and he moved back, avoiding her. “Mom, don't do that in front of my assistant, you promised,” he whispered, then glanced over at Julian and wiggled until she let him down. He removed the towel and marched back to Julian's side.

“Hello,” she said, looking down at Julian as he continued securing the water hose back in its container.

“Hi,” Julian said.

“You're late, Mom,” Dillon said as he knelt down and picked up his hard hat, gloves and tool belt.

“I know. Sorry. I was distracted at work. What are you doing here?” she asked Julian.

He reached down and helped Dillon strap the tool belt back on. “I'm helping Dillon start the new barbecue pit.”

“Oh, I see, and how's that going?” Dena asked, then looked behind them, seeing a small, natural-stone block circular retaining wall half-complete. “It looks great.” She walked over to get a better look. The detail work was perfect, but the size seemed a bit off. “Kind of small for a barbecue grill, don't you think?”

Dillon laughed and shook his head. “That's not a barbecue grill, Mom, that's the fire pit. We needed to build that first. The barbecue grill is next after we're done.”

“Oh, I see,” Dena said. “Why exactly are you building a fire pit?”

“That you need to take up with your aunt, she had changes and specified the exact requirements,” Julian said.

“Speaking of which, where is she?”

“In the greenhouse.”

Dillon hopped on his bicycle and drove it around the yard, ending up in front of the greenhouse. He got off then ran inside to apparently tell her that his mother was home.

“So I see you met Dillon.”

“Yeah.” Julian immediately smiled and chuckled.

“I hope he didn't get in your way too much or distract you from doing what you needed to do. He loves anything having to do with construction at the moment. You being here was probably a dream come true for him.”

“Not at all, I enjoyed having him help me. He's quite the charmer, a great kid, full of life. His exuberance is refreshing.”

“Yeah, he's exhausting sometimes, but I can't imagine being without him.”