Love Makes the Difference (Sully Point Book 1) (10 page)

There, she'd said it. Now he'd realize she was right and he'd
made a big mistake in telling her those things and they could just be friends.

He was shaking his head. "Anna...you are so wrong. I
know exactly who I was talking about and it was you. But I can see you have
some trouble accepting that, so I'm just going to have to prove it to you. For
now, will you at least try to believe in me, in my feelings for you?"

"But this kind of thing doesn't happen to me!"
Anna blurted out. "To my sister, Holly, sure--all the time. She's the
pretty one, the one everyone falls for, but not me. I don't know how to feel
about any of this."

"Anna, I know, I get it, love. It will take time. But
what I feel isn't about your sister Holly, it's about you. I don't expect
anything from you. Just try and believe a little bit, okay? And let me keep
seeing you?"

She was mortified to feel tears fill her eyes. Dashing her
hand across them, she stood up. "I should probably go."

"Anna...please?"

"If I stay, will you go back to work while I sit here?
I think I could do that."

He frowned for a moment, then his face cleared and his eyes
softened. "As long as you can be comfortable, I'll go back to my writing."

She leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay, I'll
stay."

* * * *

Sam thought it would be shocking if he wrote anything other
than complete drivel, with her sitting there so close. Still, he could at least
fake writing if that made her comfortable. Once he started, however, the
writing began to flow and over an hour passed before he came out of the 'zone'
and checked the clock.

"I didn't realize so much time had gone by." He
turned in his chair to look at her. "Did you need a drink, or..." He
saw a glass of water in her hand.

"I got it myself. You didn't seem to hear me get up or
the opening of the fridge. By the way, I love those appliances."

"They do fit in with a beach house like this one don't
they." He raked his hands through his hair as he remembered. "Damn, I
totally forgot to give you the check." He got up and went to a little
table with drawers next to the rocking chair.

He lifted out the check and handed it over to her. "You'll
see that it's drawn on my company name, SLC Limited. I figured that would be
better than having the bank tellers wonder why Sam Carter would be giving you
so much money."

"Thanks for thinking of that, Sam," Anna said as
she put the check folded up into her jeans pocket. "What does the L stand
for in SLC?"

"Lawrence, Samuel Lawrence Carter. Family names. I
think Lawrence came from a great uncle."

"Family...you never have mentioned family."

"Hmm. I guess I haven't. Let's see, I have a mother and
father who live in New York state in the Adirondacks. I have three sisters,
Beth and Maggie, who live in Philadelphia and Rose who lives near Mom and Dad."

"Are you guys close? Was it a happy family life for you
growing up?"

"Yes, we were and still are a pretty happy family. We
stay in touch now by phone, Skype, texting, emails and regular get-togethers
where everyone flies into the same place for a weekend or more. They all know
to leave me alone when I'm off writing. They keep me updated with emails, but
that's all. We'll celebrate the book being done with a week somewhere, maybe up
at my parents' house in the mountains."

"Sounds nice. How old are you?"

Sam's brow lifted in surprise. "I'm thirty. Why?"

"Just curious. I'm twenty-three, bit of an age gap."

"Not that much. Seven years is nothing. My parents are
separated by nine years in age."

Anna got up and took her glass into the kitchen and set it
in the sink. "I should go and try to get something done today."

"You are getting something done being here, you know,"
he said gently.

"Let's don't push our luck today, all right?" She
gave a little laugh. "Don't worry, I'm not going to disappear. I've
decided you're right. It would be silly not to give this, whatever it is
between us, this thing a chance. So yes, I agree that we should continue to see
each other."

"Great!" He felt like a huge weight had been
lifted off his chest. "How about tomorrow night? Dinner?"

"Sure, you could come to dinner at home with Dad and
Cody--"

"I meant, going out to a restaurant, like a date."

"Oh, oh, um, sure. What kind of a date? Dressy or
casual?"

"How about casual but nice, does that sound okay?"

"Sure, sure, I can do that."

Sam could see thoughts flickering across her face. Somehow
he thought Anna would go shopping for clothes before tomorrow night. He smiled
inside but kept his face grave.

"Okay, so, well, bye," Anna said and left in a
hurry.

Sam nodded to himself. That went better than expected. It
wasn't that Anna had low self-esteem. She needed confidence in herself as an
attractive woman. And he thought he just might be able to show her that.

* * * *

Anna nudged over the speed limit as she drove home. What on
earth was she going to wear? The outfit she wore to the fair was one Holly had
given her a few years ago. She had plenty of jeans and t-shirts, sweaters and
cotton shirts, but casual nice?

As she walked into the Grainger house, she found a note from
her father saying he and Cody were heading over to her loft to work on finishing
the kitchen. That was good. She had the house to herself which meant she could
ransack Holly's closet. Holly kept a variety of clothes in her old bedroom.
Surely there would be something she could borrow out of her treasure trove.

After an hour of searching through Holly's closet and every
drawer in the room, she felt a bit frantic. She couldn't tell what would be
appropriate. 'Dinner at a restaurant' –did that mean the local diner where her
jeans would be perfectly fine? Somehow she didn't think so. Finally she decided
to call her sister.

"Holly? Listen I need to talk to you about clothes."

"Anna? Is that you? Are you okay? You sound--upset."

"I am upset! I don't know what to wear."

"What to wear? Where are you going?"

"On a date to a restaurant for dinner."

"On a...okay, just when did this happen?"

"Recently. It's Sam Carter, you know, the new guy in
town."

"Oh, the one who bought Wally's place? Is he nice? Good
looking? Tell me everything."

"Holly," Anna gritted her teeth. "Right now
what's important is what to wear. We're going out tomorrow night and he said it
was 'casual nice' and that means nothing to me."

"Hmm. This calls for drastic measures. Anna, tomorrow
morning you and I are going shopping."

"What? I thought I could borrow something out of your
closet."

"No, all that stuff is old. You need something new. Don't
worry about the cost, I'll pay for everything and--"

"You don't have to pay. I have eight thousand dollars."

Dead silence came over the phone.

"You there...Holly?"

"How did you get that kind of money?"

"Um, well, I sold a painting. To Sam. He wanted to pay
more for it, but I got him down to a more reasonable number."

"He wanted to pay more...wait, he knows about your
paintings?" Holly practically shrieked.

"Hey, relax. It was an accident how he found out, but I'm
thinking it's time I had a professional look at them. Sam knows a gallery owner
in New York, so I may ask him to contact the guy. But my paintings aren't the
issue. If you think we need to shop, then I guess we'll be shopping tomorrow.
When will you get here?"

"I'd get there tonight if I didn't have to meet clients
for dinner. Clearly tons of things have been going on that I don't know about. I'm
going to rearrange my appointments now so I'll be there by nine in the morning.
You'd better be prepared to tell me everything!"

"Okay, okay. See you tomorrow."

Holly hung up and Anna looked at her phone and shook her
head. She was going to get grilled by Holly in the morning. The most important
thing to remember was she couldn't reveal Sam's true writing career. Even if
she had to lie to Holly. And lying to Holly always went so well.

Anna called her father at the loft and told him she'd fix
dinner, since she was already home and had nothing to do. She decided to make
lasagna and went out to get some ricotta cheese. Once she was back home and
began to cook, her mind kept straying to the time she'd spent with Sam at the
beach house.

It seemed strange, thinking about it now, how comfortable
she was just sitting in a room with him as he wrote. The atmosphere had been
soothing and relaxed--even though Sam was entirely focused on his writing. She'd
watched him typing away on his laptop, occasionally brushing back the blonde
hair that fell into his eyes. The thing about Sam was that he seemed entirely
present in whatever he was doing at the time.

She still couldn't figure out why he was attracted to her.
Finishing off the layering of ingredients in the baking dish, she sprinkled
parmesan cheese over the top. As she put it in the oven, she thought again of
his laptop. Computer. Internet. She could look him up! Not him, but Tom Anders.
Surely he'd had girlfriends whose picture had been taken. Maybe if she got a
glimpse of the kind of women he dated normally...

Anna ran upstairs to the desktop computer she kept in her
bedroom. There she did a search for Tom Anders and wasn't really surprised to
see tons of entries. She began clicking down the list. As she looked at photos
of him at book release parties, movie openings, and other places she began to
find photos of him with women. Not too many, but enough. And they were all
blondes. Every single one. Frowning at the computer screen, she continued until
she found the most recent photos of him taken about three months before he
arrived in Sully Point. There were several with the same woman--Patrice Bettencourt.
Tall, beautiful, blond wearing long, slinky, sparkling dresses--the complete
opposite of what Anna felt about her own looks.

What kind of game was Sam playing with her when this was the
kind of woman he preferred? She found herself getting angry and finally she
yanked her cell phone out of her pocket to call him--only to remember she had
once again neglected to get his number. Feeling her anger growing, she ran down
the stairs and checked the lasagna. It was done and her father and Cody came in
the back door just as she pulled it out of the oven.

"Hey Anna, you won't believe how much we got done,"
Cody said as he came over to sniff at the pan of lasagna.

"Yeah, honey, we're moving right along," Frank
said. Then he got a good look at Anna's face. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "I can't talk about it. Listen
guys, this is ready to eat after you let it sit for five minutes or so. There's
a loaf of Italian bread over there on the counter. I need to go somewhere for a
little while. Be back soon."

"Anna--what is it?"

"Just a mistake, something I need to straighten out.
See you later." She ran out the door before they could ask any more
questions.

* * * *

Sam sat in the rocking chair, with a beer in one hand, as he
watched the ocean. A brisk knocking on the door startled him and he got up to
answer it. Opening the door he found Anna, an intensely angry Anna, who stormed
into his house.

"I don't know what you're playing at Sam Carter, but it
ends now. You aren't going to get away with whatever it is you're doing."

He felt baffled. "What are you talking about Anna?"

"Is this part of your pattern? Do you 'fall' for a
local girl in every small town you go to for your writing? Is it some kind of
game?"

Sam frowned. "Anna, please sit down and let's talk
calmly about--"

"I don't want to sit down! And I don't feel calm. I saw
the pictures, Sam. All the beautiful blondes. You have a very clear type, and
it's nothing like me."

"Pictures?"

She sighed heavily. "On the internet, where else would
I see photos of you?"

"You mean you saw pictures of Tom Anders."

"Tom Anders is you! You can't tell me you took out all
those women and didn't like them."

Sam picked up his beer from the table and took a gulp. "No,
I'm not going to tell you that. I guess I have had a type, in the past. But the
last woman I was involved with--"

"Patrice?" Anna asked in a snide voice.

"Yes, Patrice. I think she cured me of that type
forever."

"She broke up with you?"

"No, I ended it. She was a cold, vicious, conniving
bitch if you want to know. When I finally woke up and realized who she was, I
got out of the relationship."

"Whatever. What I don't understand is how you can say
you're attracted to me--"

"In love with you. That's what I said."

Anna faltered for a moment. "Okay fine. How you can say
that, when I'm the opposite of what those women are? It doesn't make any sense!"

She flopped down on the couch, leaning forward with her
elbows on her knees and head in her hands. She continued talking in a low, hurt
voice. "If this is a game to you, an amusement while you're away from the
big city, you can end it now. I won't be someone's plaything."

Sam moved quickly to sit beside her. "Anna, no. I would
never--I couldn't do that, to you or to anyone else. This is no game to me. I
never loved those women in the photos."

Anna looked up at him. "How do you know what you are
feeling now is real?"

"All I can tell you is that it feels different to me
that anything before. I wasn't looking to fall for anyone when I moved here.
But then I met you, and I couldn't stop thinking about you. I wanted to know
you, what you were thinking and feeling. I wanted to be with you. That's what I
still want."

Anna gave a long shuddering sigh. "You sound like you mean
that. I saw those pictures and it just didn't make sense to me. How you could
like that type of woman and then compared to me--it seems like a very big
difference."