Just Three Words (Soho Loft Romances) (21 page)

Claire studied her. “You really hate him, don’t you?”

How was she supposed to answer that? “I’m not a fan. No.”

“For Mom’s sake, I hope you at least try.” Claire headed off to the cake where the guests were preparing to sing “Happy Birthday” to the man of the hour. Hunter scanned the room for Kevin, but he was nowhere to be found.

*

The next morning when Hunter awoke, the smell of bacon and fresh coffee had her smiling before she even opened her eyes. She was home. Her mom was big on breakfast. What she hadn’t planned on was the set table she encountered once she’d showered and come downstairs. “What’s all this?” she asked.

Her mother smiled. “There’s my girl.” She came around the counter and placed a kiss on Hunter’s cheeks. “I do think you’re even more pretty than the last time you visited.”

“Sweet of you to say, but the genes came from somewhere.”

Her mother smiled at the thought and pointed her spatula at Hunter. “You’re right. I’m pretty good-lookin’ myself.” She turned back to the sizzling bacon and flipped a strip. “I’m bringing sexy back.”

Hunter laughed, nearly spilling the orange juice she poured. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

The back door opened and Claire entered with Chip and their four-year-old twins, Connor and Christopher. The little guys high-fived Hunter on their way into the living room where their “grandma toys” were stashed behind the couch, always waiting for their visits.

“Good morning, everyone!” Chip enthused. He tended to speak in exclamation points, which Hunter found amusing.

“Morning, Chip,” Hunter answered. “Mom’s cooking for us. Fancy breakfast time.”

“I can hardly wait!” He stared off into the living room, his eyes wide. “Christopher, don’t hit your brother with that lamp. That’s what your grandmother uses to see.” Oh, the joys of parenting.

Claire took the seat next to Hunter at the table and leaned in. “Last night was Star Wars role play,” she whispered in her ear.

“What does that mean?” Hunter asked. Claire raised her eyebrows a couple of times pointedly until the meaning of the phrase came into focus. Hunter resisted a blatant face palm and instead nodded and smiled, now picturing her sister in Princess Leia mode against her will. “Sounds awesome.”

“If you want the rules of role play, I have them. They’re quite simple. Though you’ll need to identify the aggressor. Last night, it was Chip. Tonight is my turn.”

God save her from this conversation. “You know, I’m good on rules for now. But I’ll certainly let you know if I change my mind.”

Claire winked at her and went about helping their mother finish up breakfast while Hunter poured juice for the rest of the table. Fifteen minutes later, they were all gathered. Even Kevin, who begrudgingly emerged from his room, again wearing black jeans several sizes too large and a metal spiked wristband. He set to eating his eggs without so much as a glance at anyone else.

“Hunter, how are things at the Savvy agency these days?” her mother asked.

“Busy. We had a few projects shuffle, and I think we’re just trying to keep up.”

Her father looked up from his plate. “I read an article about the company online. A piece in
Time Out
.”

Hold the phone. Her father had not only spoken directly to her, but shown enough interest as to Google her company? Had hell frozen over and she missed the memo? She didn’t know what his angle was, but she really didn’t care. “Yeah, we’re doing well.”

But apparently he wasn’t done. “Do you foresee expansion into any kind of investor relations?”

“What the hell do you care?” Okay, it was harsh, but it was what came out.

All eyes swiveled to her, including the four-year-olds’. “Hunter,” Claire said quietly.

“Sorry, was that too candid?”

Her father looked mildly uncomfortable. “It’s okay. I was just curious about the business. But we can…talk about something else.”

As the conversation picked up around them, it was clear that the others had shifted into overdrive to cover the less-than-successful exchange. Everyone was extra nice and polite, as if setting an example for what breakfast conversation
should
sound like. Hunter busied herself with her plate, feeling guilty for making the rest of the room uncomfortable. But not for how she’d addressed her father, the same man who told her she was an embarrassment when she’d taken her first girlfriend home—this after not having acknowledged her existence for years prior.

Her mother caught her eye as she ate and smiled. She had a way of doing that. Centering Hunter when she needed it. And it helped to pull her back into the fold of things. She watched her brother for a moment. “Plans today, Kevin?”

He looked up, seeming almost shocked to have been spoken to. “Don’t know.”

“I was going to head to the air show on base later,” her father said to him. “You can go with me if you want.”

Kevin nodded at his food. “Yeah. Cool. What time?”

“Couple of hours,” her father said. “Hunter, any interest?”

She felt like she’d stepped into the Twilight Zone. She made sure to answer with civility she didn’t actually feel this time. “No, I have a flight late this afternoon. I’ll stay here with Mom. Catch up.”

He nodded and went back to his food.

Strangest visit home ever.

*

Samantha shuffled through the puzzle pieces looking for the one that showed three-fourths of the blue window awning. It was Sunday afternoon. Hunter had gotten in from Ohio late the night before, and this was the first chance they’d had to talk about her trip. “So, do you think he was extending some sort of olive branch?”

Hunter handed her the piece she sought. “That’s the thing, I have no idea. For my father, any kind of interest in my life is uncharted territory. But at this point, it’s unwelcome.”

Sam stopped her work on the puzzle and looked at Hunter. It was clear the trip had her in a weird place. “Maybe don’t be so quick to say that.”

Hunter balked. “Really? You know what he’s like.”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, but people change. Maybe he’s trying.”

Hunter moved to the couch, clearly in contemplative mode. “Claire said his health hasn’t been so great. And he looked older. Much.”

“So maybe that’s it. Maybe whatever is going on with him physically has him rethinking the way he’s treated his kids all these years. I’m not saying that you should race into his proverbial open arms, but think about keeping your mind open for down the road.”

Hunter met her eyes. “Not sure I can do that. But enough about him.” She dropped her palms onto her knees with a slap. “What have I missed? How have you been? What have you worn?”

Samantha smiled at the questions, genuinely happy to have Hunter home. She’d been surprised at just how much she’d missed her while she’d been gone. The apartment felt lonely, but not just for anyone. She abandoned the puzzle and came to sit on the arm of the couch. “Well, Elvis and I entered into a bit of a crossword puzzle competition. He was woefully second place. But in better news, he won the sustained eye contact competition that followed, hands down.”

Hunter leaned down and scratched Elvis under his chin. “She’s telling lies about you. We both know you rock at crosswords.” Elvis whined quietly in response. He’d stuck close to Sam while Hunter was away, even sleeping next to her bed. But it was obvious now, as he refused to leave Hunter’s side, that he was thrilled she was home. Something they both agreed on. “Hey, are we okay?” Hunter asked.

Sam understood the implication. Hunter was asking about Sexgate, which was essentially the last time they’d seen each other. She felt a little unsteady with their arrangement, especially since it was atypical behavior for her. She was a romantic, after all, and sleeping with someone for the sake of anything other than actual emotion was outside her experience level. But then again, she was feeling ready to venture away from her norm. And this felt like taking life by the horns for once. Plus, Hunter was her friend, and she felt safe with her. “Yeah, I think we are.”

“So did you think about me while I was gone?” Hunter teased. “Dream about me?” She raised an overly seductive eyebrow, which forced Samantha to throw a pillow at her, because she wasn’t getting away with that.

“Just because I slept with you doesn’t mean you can flirt with me.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Nope. Against the friends-with-benefits rules. We’re friends right now. This is the friend part of our relationship.”

“Well, that seems wildly unfun.”

Sam pushed off the couch and went back to the puzzle. “Deal with it. And get back over here and help with this puzzle. My café is gaining on your building. You gotta keep up, slacker.”

Hunter stood. “You are really, really bossy.”

“And you love it.”

“So, Howard, what brought you to New York?” Sam sipped the champagne that Howard had insisted they order, enjoying the way the bubbles tickled her throat on the way down. Her spirits were high. It felt good being out on an actual date.

“Women,” Howard said.

She choked a little on the champagne at his response. “I’m sorry. Did you say women?”

“Oh, yes,” he said in his cute little Howard voice. Almost like a well-mannered cartoon character, sitting there with that red bow tie—the same one from his profile photo—and tan jacket. She wasn’t judging him. It was a definite choice, that outfit, and he was owning it. “I heard that the women in the Big Apple are the prettiest women just about anywhere, so I moved my software company from Iowa to find out for myself.” He certainly had a slow delivery style, as if each word carried special meaning for him.

“Oh, and how has that worked out?”

“Well, have you looked in the mirror lately?” He pulled his face back and shook his head. “My, you’re stunning, Samantha. I’m so glad you opened up your heart to the world of online dating. There’s so much for people like us to explore.”

“Thank you. Um…it’s a little new for me. I will admit to being nervous. I’ve never been on a blind date, much less an online one.”

“But do you want to explore?” The waiter chose just that moment to deliver their meals, which bought her a moment to ponder how one should answer such a strange and vague question.

“Explore?”

“Our love connection.”

“Oh, I think it might be a little premature for the word ‘love,’ don’t you, Howard? Maybe we could just have this meal together and get to know one another a little.”

“Well, that sounds just dandy. Everything you say is dandy.” Wow, genuine enthusiasm. It was sweet. Not exactly sexy. At all. In any way, shape, or form. But he was an earnest little guy and that counted for something, right? She had him pegged at about five-three, with a slight comb-over. That part had not been well represented in his online photo.

“Do you enjoy NASCAR?” he asked, taking the tiniest bite of steak ever assembled.

Really, what was the point of a bite like that? She watched him chew the sliver daintily before reminding herself of the question. “As in racing? No. I’ve never really been into NASCAR.”

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you. The cars, they go in a whirly circle and try to catch one another. It’s like tag for cars. It’ll be so much fun when we watch at my place on Sundays.”

There would be no NASCAR watching.

Silent sigh.

And she didn’t have the heart to point out that, in fact, NASCAR was nothing like tag. “I’m more of a book and movie kind of girl myself. Do you read much?” At this point, she was just trying to make conversation before exiting politely. Howard was not, as he would say, her love connection.

“I enjoy reading cookbooks.”

“Oh, so you like to cook?” At last, an overlap. They could compare notes, recipes, or discuss their enjoyment of creating a new dish.

“No. I just like to read them.”

Sam took a sec. “Oh.”

Howard leaned forward, stealing a glance at a nearby table to make sure no one was listening. “How am I doing?” he whispered.

“What do you mean?” she whispered back.

“My neighbor, Sheila, says I’m worthy of a restraining order.”

“Is that a statement or a goal?”

“I’ll have to think on that.” He sat back in his chair, pensive, leaving Samantha more mystified than ever.

She ate the remaining food on her plate, smiling politely at Howard, who continued to cut his food into infant-sized portions before delicately placing each bite in his mouth with practiced care.

“When would you like to get together again?” Howard asked, taking out a pocket calendar.

Sam took a deep breath. “Here’s the thing. I’m not thinking that’s such a good idea.”

“Is it the love connection?”

She made a point to look sorrowful. “It is, I’m afraid.”

“The love connection is important. And if it’s not there, you can’t force it.”

“You can’t force it. Exactly.”

Howard was gracious enough to pay the check and walked Samantha to the corner. “You’re just a wonderful Big Apple girl. I can tell. Thank you for having dinner with me at this fine bistro down the block from us now.”

Okay, he was back to being cute again. She wanted to straighten his tiny bow tie and pat his head. “I’m happy to have met you, Howard. I wish you well.” She placed a kiss on his cheek.

“I wish you well, too, Samantha. In all of your life’s pursuits. I hope you find your extra-special love connection.” He placed something in her hand and walked away. She glanced down and found herself staring in mystification at a one-hundred-dollar bill.

“Howard, wait, no!” But he closed the door to an idling cab and was gone.

She looked down at the cash. Seriously?

*

“How’d your hot date go?” Hunter asked from the couch when Samantha arrived home. She was tucked under a blanket with Elvis curled into the crook of her knee. Once he spotted Samantha, however, he jumped down from the couch and came to greet her, his entire body wagging like a tail.

“Hi, little El.” She stooped down and scratched behind his ears, which seemed to make him smile his Elvis smile. She’d never met a dog who’d mastered the art of smiling the way he had. She straightened and stared at Hunter. “I might be a prostitute. You should know this. A dinner prostitute, but still a prostitute.”