Love Makes the Difference (Sully Point Book 1) (7 page)

"Hence the easy-going persona of Sam Carter."

"Exactly. I know this is a lot to ask, but I'd
appreciate it if we could keep the truth of my identity and work a secret
between us. I did let your father know last night I'm a writer. But if we could
keep Tom Anders out of it--that would be fantastic. I don't want an invasion of
photographers out at the beach house."

Anna nodded her head, hair swinging forward again. She
brushed it back behind her ears. "Not a problem. I do understand, probably
better than most. I won't even tell Dad. I'll just inform him I know you're a
writer." She paused and quiet rested comfortably between them. After a few minutes, she said,
"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Not at all."

"How is it, knowing so many people are reading your
words? How does it feel to be so exposed out there?"

He laughed. "It feels strange and wonderful, exciting
and scary, unbelievable and comfortable--all at the same time. I like knowing
my writing is giving joy or entertainment or even a distraction to people who
read it. And I'm still scared every time that people will suddenly hate the new
book and reject it totally. Mostly, though, at this point, it's fun. I have a
good friend who is my agent, someone I trust completely and that helps. I don't
trust the people who want into my life, the Hollywood types, the literary
hangers-on, people out to tag along with my bestseller status. Norm tells it to
me straight and it’s invaluable to me."

"I can see how that would be important. I've gone a
long time without any criticism of my work, or approval. Since yesterday I've
thought a lot about you and my Dad seeing my paintings. And I was surprised at
how a part of me really wanted to hear your opinions even if you all thought
the work sucked. It struck me that I've been painting in a vacuum--and maybe it's
time to open the door to the world and have an audience."

Sam eyes widened in surprise that this had come out of
yesterday's fiasco. Was she really ready to show her work? She seemed calm
enough about it today.

"Here's a test of that statement for you. How do you
feel when I tell you I know a gallery owner who would come here to look at your
paintings if you'd like? He's in New York and his gallery features serious
work, not just the usual contemporary garbage so often scattered through the
New York galleries."

He noticed how her body tensed up as he spoke. Aha, maybe
not so ready.

But then she said, "He would come here to look at them?"

"Yes, if, when, you're ready. He trusts my judgment not
to waste his time."

Anna sat up straight in her chair, putting bare feet on the
floor. Sam noticed her toes were sparkly with pink nail polish. Pink. Hmm,
another side of the woman he was surprised by. After seeing that painting of
rage, he'd have expected some dark, wine-colored polish.

He looked up from staring at her feet to find her watching
him. After a moment, he smiled at her in encouragement.

"I need to think about it some more. But I might, I
just might be ready to have a professional look at them. If you think--Sam do
you really think they're good enough?"

"Do I think--? Anna they're excellent! Seriously good. I
won't say anything to him until you let me know for certain, but believe me
when I tell you they are plenty good enough." He stopped and then
continued. "Are you leaving the bakery to focus more on your art now that
you're moving in here?"

"No, I'll continue at the bakery, but I may have
shortened hours. How did you know I'm moving--oh, of course, my father. Why did
he want you here really?

"I told him I had experience doing renovations on
houses--which is true--and he wanted my opinion. That was all."

Anna nodded, thinking, and then stood up. "Okay, if you
want to help him out, you can. But don't let it take away from your own art. I
don't want anything to interfere with your writing. Because it does bring joy
to a lot of people."

"Thank you, Anna." He stood as well, amused at how
she was obviously ready for him to leave. "I guess I should be going. I may
take you up on helping your father, though. So don't be surprised if you see
more of me around here."

She blushed prettily again, and gave him a small smile.
God,
he wondered,
does she have any idea what that look does to me?

No, he decided, she probably didn't know. She was such a
combination of things, but there was a thread of innocence wound throughout. "Thanks
also for accepting my apology. I'll see you tomorrow at the bakery?"

"Yes," she said and laughed. "Not sure yet
what donuts I'll be making, but they'll be good."

"Sounds delicious. Bye!" He walked through the
doorway and down the stairs. After about thirty seconds, he heard the door
upstairs close softly.

As he drove off in the roadster on a rather gray, muggy day,
Sam suddenly felt exhilarated. And it was all because of her. Oh yeah, he was
in major trouble.

Chapter 4

The last days of April passed in a haze of summer sun and
humidity. Then a front came through and the air was drier with a bit of wind.
May first dawned in a cerulean blue sky and temperatures getting up into the
eighties.

Anna had been at the bakery since four in the morning,
coming in earlier than her usual five to get extra goodies ready for the fair.
The town labeled it a craft fair, but there were all types of items available.
Cupcakes and cookies from the bakery were always big favorites. She shoved
another tray of white cupcakes with lime green icing into the rack that would
hold them in the van to go to the fair. Chocolate and vanilla cupcakes were
decorated by icing of bright pink, sunny yellow, lime green, and pale blue, and
were standing in order. The sugar cookies and oatmeal raisin cookies were
already packaged up and ready to go.

Kayla called out a 'hello' as she entered the bakery and went
back to the kitchen. "Need any help?"

"Nah, I've got it, Kayla," Anna told the high
school helper. Kayla was incredibly responsible and Holly and Anna were glad to
find her. "You'll stay here until I'm back, then you can take off for the
fair. I'll close up."

"Sounds good. Oops, there's the door." Kayla sped
on out to the front. Within a minute she was back with a curious expression on
her face. "Anna? There's a guy out here--the new guy? He's asking if he
can talk to you."

"Oh...uh...okay. Here, finish up setting these cupcakes
on the tray, will you?"

Kayla nodded, wide-eyed.

Anna straightened her pink polyester tunic and went behind
the counter to see Sam standing there looking gorgeous as usual in jeans and a black
t-shirt. She smiled as she read the writing on it. "You're a Foo Fighters
fan? I like them, too. What can I get you, Sam?"

He glanced down at the shirt as if he hadn't realized he was
wearing it. "I wanted to see if you needed any help getting the baked
goods to the fair. Your father mentioned it to me yesterday when we were
working at the loft. He said you take some stuff there every year, so I'm
volunteering. But I'd also like one of those muffins," he said with a grin
as he pointed to the apple spice muffins.

That grin, she thought. So full of fun. "Sure, one
muffin coming up. But I don't need any help, Sam. The bakery has a van and I
unload it out there, then the Women's Auxiliary sells them for us and some of
the proceeds go to them."

"Are you sure? Because I've cleared the decks today and
I'd like to help."

"Well...okay, I guess. Come on back to the kitchen and
we can finish loading up. There's a back door that leads to the van."

Anna thought Kayla's eyes would pop out when she saw Sam
eating his muffin, following Anna into the kitchen. "You can take over
again in the front, Kayla. Sam is volunteering to help us out today."

"Uh, okay, Anna, sure thing." Kayla wandered off
slowly, and Anna sighed as she imagined just how long Kayla would take to
spread this news to the customers.

"Show me where you want me to take these trays,"
Sam said as he lifted one off the counter.

"Just shove them into that rack there. We move the rack
into the van where we lock it down so it doesn't move. I'll get the cookies and
the display baskets for them, and then we'll be ready to go outside."

The bags of cookies and baskets had been placed inside a
large box, which Sam took from her as soon as she carried it out of the back
storage room. She shrugged and led the way to van, pushing the cupcake rack.
The back door opened onto an asphalt driveway where the pale yellow van sat.

They got everything situated in the van and when Sam climbed
into the passenger seat, Anna gazed at him in confusion. "What are you
doing?"

"Coming with you, of course. You'll need to unload all
this and I can help."

"Okay, why are you doing this?"

Sam started to say something, stopped when he looked at her
face and said, "Honestly? I like being around you. I thought if I helped
you get all your chores done, maybe you'd come with me to the fair. Sometimes
the writing leaves me feeling too alone, and I thought you might could use some
company, too."

She couldn't imagine him saying anything that would have
startled her more. He liked being around her? That was more direct than usual.
Lately he'd taken to complimenting her and flirting with her when he came into
the bakery. It was true they'd seen more of each other because he was helping
out at the loft, but...she realized he was waiting for her to respond. "Uh,
yeah, sure--I mean, yes, going to the fair with you would be nice."
Nice?
She groaned internally.

Sam grinned at her. "Fantastic! Let's get this show on
the road."

She fastened her seat belt, noticed he'd already done his,
and started up the engine.

Sam seemed lost in his own thoughts and Anna liked how
comfortable the silence was.

Suddenly, he spoke. "Anna, have you ever been in
love?"

"What?"

"You heard me--have you?"

"I don't see why you want to know."

"Humor me. I'm curious."

"Well, if you must know, yes--at least I thought it was
love. Turns out it definitely wasn't on his part and it ended. There hasn't
been much opportunity since then."

"And if love were to come into your life all of a
sudden and hit you over the head--would you accept it? Or deny it? Or not
believe it was possible?"

"Sam, what in heaven's name are you talking
about?"

"Just some trouble I'm having with a character in the
book."

"Ohh. I thought--"

"You thought what?"

"Nothing, nothing at all."

He appeared to shake off whatever thought had been bothering
him.

Anna glanced over at him and said, "So, have you been
in love a lot?"

"Me? Not a lot, no."

"How come?"

"Maybe I've been looking in the wrong places, at the
wrong people for love."

She couldn't think of anything to safely say to that comment
and she stayed quiet the rest of the way there.

"So this craft fair is a big deal?" Sam asked as
he opened up the back of the van. There was a table set out for the bakery.

"It's the first big event of the summer. And just so
you know, everyone calls it 'the fair'--they leave out the craft part. It's
gotten so much bigger than crafts."

"I'm looking forward to seeing everything with you
later."

Right then, Anna saw Mrs. Bidwell walk up behind Sam,
clearly hearing his words by the shocked look on her face.

"Well hello, you two," Mrs. Bidwell said in her
sugary voice. "Look at you, Anna, with a big, strong helper today."

Anna plastered a smile on her face and motioned to Sam. "Mrs.
Bidwell, this is Sam Carter. He's new to Sully Point. Sam, this is Mrs.
Bidwell. She's the vice-president of the Women's Auxiliary."

Sam set down a tray of cupcakes on the table and turned with
his hand out to Mrs. Bidwell. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

She shook his hand and waved her other with its ever-present
lacy handkerchief in front of her face. "Oh my, well aren't you polite?"

"Will you be manning the bakery table today?" Anna
asked.

"What, me? No, no, dear. Mrs. Simpson and Mrs. Garner
will be handling that."

"All right then, Sam and I will wait for them to arrive
before we leave." Anna began setting out labels on the various baskets of
cookies and trays of cupcakes. Sam lifted the rack out of the van to set up
behind the table. Mrs. Bidwell scurried out of the way as he came toward her.

"Yes, well, I suppose I'll leave you two to set up
things here. You and--Sam was it?--you have yourselves a wonderful time today
at the fair." With that last comment she walked briskly away, already
aiming for the first person she could mention this to.

"Oh, man, she is such a gossip. I'm afraid it will be
all over the fair before you know it that we're on a date. By the end of the
day, they'll have us engaged to be married. Sorry about the gossip, Sam."

He laughed. "Not a problem. I'd expect no less from any
self-respecting small town. Unless--do you have any problem being seen with me?
Won't ruin your reputation, will it?"

"No, no, of course not. Being seen with you can only
enhance it. I never go out with anyone." She stopped talking, appalled at
the things coming out of her mouth when she was with him. Being around him
relaxed her too much, she guessed.

"You know, the way you were with Mrs. Bidwell was the
first time I think I've ever seen you be fake with anyone," Sam said to
her thoughtfully. "That smile on your face when she came up--I could tell it
wasn't at all how you actually felt. You're usually so direct and honest, it
was strange to see."

"I've always had a terrible time when it came lying or
pretending to be something I'm not. Who I am is right there for all to see."