The Accidental Encore (11 page)

Melissa pulled a toy frog from her bag and suctioned his
feet to the table in front of Henry to divert his attention. “Ben started
talking to me as a way to get to you. I was the warm up act.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“He told me.”

“No, he didn’t,” Allie said as the waiter delivered her
sandwich and Melissa’s salad. Henry made a dive for the silverware before
Melissa quickly snatched it out of his reach. “You’re making that up.”

“No, I’m not. He figured he’d break the ice with me, I’d
introduce him to you, and he’d walk away with the real prize.” She speared a
cherry tomato. “Lucky for me, he never got to you.”

Allie scowled at Melissa over her untouched sandwich. “Ben?
He and I would kill each other.”

“Yes, I know, which is why I didn’t let him get to you.”

Allie picked up her sandwich. “But just because Ben,” she
closed her eyes with her sandwich lifted halfway to her mouth, “sorry, I just
need a moment to blot out the visual there. Just because Ben thought I was
attractive doesn’t mean all men are attracted to me.”

Melissa pointed her fork at Allie. “If you throw out Gabe as
an example, I’m going to slap you.”

“Well, he was never attracted to me.”

If their college friend Gabe was her only proof, Allie was
grasping at straws. “Yeah, and that’s how we knew he was gay. Admit it, Allie.
You like this guy because he doesn’t treat you like some doll that should be
set on a shelf and admired.”

“He treats me like someone he’d like to run over with his
car. Again.”

“Sounds to me like the kid who bullies the girl he likes on
the playground.”

“He’s certainly a kid.” Allie wiped her mouth with her
napkin. “He did mention a wife, so he must be divorced. He’s been staying with
Leah for two weeks. If there was a wife, she would have made an appearance by
now.”

“I thought you didn’t care?” Melissa asked.

“I don’t, but it’s interesting that a Cretan like him could
get a woman to marry him. It gives me hope.”

Melissa lifted her brows, but didn’t say anything. She could
tell it made her jealous and more than a little intrigued. “I’d like to meet
this guy.”

“Just look up the word ‘asshole’ in the dictionary. His
picture’s right there.”

Um hum, Melissa thought. Definitely attracted. For once,
things were looking up.

Chapter 13

Blackjack and Leah greeted Allie at the door Thursday night.
Craig was nowhere to be found and Allie let go of the breath she’d been holding
since she got out of the car. She saw his truck, so she knew he was home. Maybe
he would lay low and let her slip out after the lesson without making a big
deal. She hadn’t imagined he wouldn’t be there to make a sarcastic jab or two
before they parted ways. She felt disappointed she wouldn’t get the chance to
tell him how happy she was she wouldn’t have to see him again.

Leah dove into her recital song. She’d practiced, as was
evident by her progress. “That’s really good,” Allie said. “Try to slow down
the intro part of section A and smooth out the rhythm for section B. Remember
slow and even.”

“Slow and even,” Leah repeated with a nod. “I can do that.”

“Keep up the good work and you’ll be ready for the recital.”

“That’s my plan,” Leah said.

“I wrote down a couple of pages in your lesson book for you
to work on and I’ve circled the octaves.” Allie stood up and gathered her
notes. “So, are you ready to see your dad?”

“Yes, really ready.”

“I imagine he’s ready to see you, too.”

“I hope so.”

They walked to the door and Allie tried to discreetly glance
around for Craig. She pulled open the door, turned around to say goodbye to
Leah, and took one last look around. Was he really not going to say goodbye?
“I’ll see you next week. Tell your dad I said hello.”

“I’ll do it.”

Allie walked out to her car, dumbfounded that Craig hadn’t
gotten one last jab in before she left. She tossed her bag in the back seat and
had just opened the driver’s side door when he came jogging toward her. His
hair was wet and he was barefoot, wearing jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. The
muscles in her stomach clenched.

“Allie,” he called and ran a hand through his hair as he
rounded the car. He smelled like soap and pine. “You done already?”

She nodded and eyed him suspiciously. He had an open and
friendly expression on his face that had her hackles up.

“Are we square on payment?” he asked.

“Yes. Mark paid in advance before his honeymoon.”

“Of course he did. He’s very responsible.”

She nodded once again and watched as he shoved one hand into
his pants pocket and grabbed the door with his other hand, encasing her against
the car. “It was sort of nice to meet you, Craig.”

He laughed, and Allie considered the way his face changed.
Gone were the sharp angles and brooding expression, replaced by long dimples
and straight, white teeth. “Right back at ya, Allie. Actually, I have a favor
to ask of you.”

“You want me to teach you how to play the piano?”

“Funny. I’ve been looking over those online dating sites and
I can’t make heads or tails of any of them. I was wondering if you’d be willing
to help me choose one and get me set up?”

“You want my help? With online dating?”

He shrugged his shoulders and dared her to make fun. “Yeah.
If you don’t mind.”

“You’re serious?”

“Well, of course I’m serious. Do you think I’d ask if I
wasn’t?”

“Well…”

“Look,” he said. “It’s no big deal if you don’t want to. I
just thought it would save me a step or two. I can figure it out on my own.”

“No, no, I can help. I’d be happy to help.”

“Good. Great. Thanks.” He dropped his hand from the door and
shoved it in the other pocket.

“So when did you want to do this?” she asked.

He blew out a breath. “Mark gets back tomorrow night. How
about Saturday?”

Allie’s mind went blank and then she remembered the date
she’d made. “I’m meeting someone for coffee on Saturday morning. I could do
after. Around lunchtime.”

“I was thinking later. I’m meeting a sub at the job and I
won’t be back up here until around five.”

“A sub?”

“Sub-contractor.”

“Oh. Well…” She hated to admit she didn’t have plans for
Saturday night, but obviously neither did he. “Okay. Why don’t you call me when
you’re back?”

“Great.” He gave her that smile that made her suspicious
again. “Should I come to you or do you want to come to me?”

“Why don’t I come to you?” she said. “Your computer, your
profile.”

“Sure. I’m not far from here. You got a pen and I’ll give
you the address?”

“Just tell me when you call and I’ll plug it into Betty.”

“Betty?” he asked.

“My GPS.”

“You named your GPS?”

“She’s British. Queen Elizabeth. Betty.” Allie shrugged.
“She’s helpful, so I gave her a name.”

Allie could tell by the pinched look on his face that he
wanted to say something nasty, but common sense prevailed and he only shook his
head and said, “Of course you did.”

“So, I’ll see you Saturday, then?” she asked.

“Yep.” He stepped back. “I’ll call you.”

“I’ll be waiting by the phone.”

***

Craig jogged down the stairs just as the doorbell rang and
Blackjack started barking. He glanced at the clock on the mantle and shook his
head. He’d asked for fifteen minutes when he’d called her from the truck and
she’d given him fourteen and a half.

“Are you always on time?” he asked as he opened the door.
She rolled her eyes and sauntered past him into the foyer and he caught a whiff
of yet another perfume. “You always smell good, too?”

She turned around and scowled, but only until his dog
started begging for her attention. She kneeled down and rubbed him behind the
ears with both hands. “Are you bothered by promptness and good grooming?”

“No. I’m just curious.”

“I like to be on time.” She stood up. “My business demands
it. I also have a thing for perfume. Sorry if it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Craig,” she said and turned around in a circle. “Your house
is amazing. I’ve driven past this neighborhood, but I’ve never been in here.”

“Thanks.” He felt self-conscious about the home site Julie
had found and insisted they build on in the executive neighborhood. “It’s not finished.”

She tiptoed around the foyer, peeking her head inside the
empty dining room. Her heels clicking on the marble sounded like gunshots in
his head. Now that she was here, in the home he’d built for his wife, the home
he could barely stand to be in, he wasn’t sure this was such a good idea.

“It could use some furniture, but other than that…”

“Come on in,” he said and offered to take her coat. She
shimmied out of a bright orange wool jacket that made her hair shine like a
flame. Her coat smelled like her, rich and exotic. He slung it over the stair
banister and led her into the den. “Can I get you a drink?”

She seemed to consider the question as if he’d asked if she
wanted to take her clothes off. “Are you having a drink?”

“I’m going to have a beer, but I can get you some wine if
you’d prefer.”

“Do you have any open?”

“No, but I know how to use a corkscrew.”

“I’m fine,” she said and turned to look out the two-story
Palladian window. “This is a really great view.”

“I’m getting a beer,” he said as he walked into the
adjoining kitchen. He knew she’d followed when her shoes began clicking against
the Mexican tile. Blackjack followed on her heels. “If you want something, tell
me now.”

“Wow. Look at this kitchen.” She ran her hand lovingly over
the granite countertop and knocked her knuckles against the butcher-block
island. “You must like to cook.”

“No,” he said without explanation.

“Well, you could do some serious cooking in this kitchen.”

“I thought you didn’t like to cook?” he asked.

“I don’t, but someone could.”

She eyed him as he opened his bottle of beer and took a sip.
“Sure you don’t want something?” he asked.

“I’ll have one of those.”

“A beer?”

“Yes.” She put her hands on her hips. She wore jeans and a
multi-colored shirt with ties at the neckline. It was the most casual outfit
he’d seen her in to date. “I drink beer.”

“I don’t have any pussy beer.”

She sputtered, as he knew she would, and shook her head.
“Thank goodness.”

“I mean it. I’d rather open a bottle of wine than have you
take two sips, gag it down like medicine, and act like want to shave your
tongue.”

“What is it, million dollar beer? For goodness sake, let me
see the label.”

He gripped his bottle with two fingers and held out his hand
so she could inspect the microbrew.

She speared him with those cat eyes. “That should be fine.”

“Fine?” he asked. “Have you ever heard of this?”

“No, but I like pale ale.” She lifted her hand and placed it
over her left breast, drawing his eye to her chest. “I swear to drink it all.”

“Didn’t your mother tell you not to swear?”

“No, but she used plenty of swear words.”

Damn it, there she went, intriguing him again. What had he
been thinking, inviting her to his home, offering her alcohol? “You want to
have a sip before you commit?”

“Sure.” She grabbed his beer and lifted it to her lips. He
shouldn’t have watched her, he shouldn’t have wondered how soft her lips would
feel against his, he shouldn’t have envied the bottle for not having to wonder.
He pulled another beer from the fridge after she nodded and handed his back.
“It’s good.”

He tried to shake off the uncomfortable vibe from the
kitchen and moved past her through the den and into his office. He picked up an
upholstered seat from the corner and brought it behind the desk next to his
large leather chair. He pulled the chain on his desk lamp and took a seat in
front of his computer. Blackjack maneuvered under his desk and lay down in his
usual spot.

“This is a very masculine room.” She poked around the
bookshelves he’d built into the wall. “Is this you and Mark?”

He nodded, but didn’t look up. He knew she held the picture
of them as kids posing at the base of the hill behind their childhood home.

“Where was this?”

“North Carolina.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

“Yep.”

“Interesting.” She put the frame down and slid into the seat
next to Craig. When she leaned over to put her beer on the coaster, her knee
brushed his under the desk. “So, where do you want to begin?”