Needs A Little TLC (Spinning Hills Romance 2) (2 page)

A long pause ensued. Sam sat back, noting how hard his heart was beating against his chest.

“Understood,” she said, her voice sounding forced, as if her teeth were clenched. He felt the corner of his mouth curl up. How much could she have changed if he could still predict her reactions? “When?” she asked.

When?
The pulse at the base of his throat began to throb. It had to be soon. He needed to get those properties moving. “I’m free tomorrow at nine in the morning. We can meet at my office. It’s my dad’s old office—you know where it is.”

The moment those last words were out of his mouth he regretted them. He hadn’t meant it as an innuendo, but the suggestion was there and it couldn’t be helped. It was where they’d first made love.

Another sweet, thrilling, and moving memory neither of them could forget or ignore.

“Jessica and I will be there. Thank you for the opportunity. Good-bye.”
Click.

Sam stared at the phone. Apparently, one of them
could
ignore it.

Cassie stared at the phone.
You know where it is ...

Jessica cleared her throat. “So, how are we feeling about that meeting tomorrow?”

Cassie shifted her eyes away from the phone and tried to clear her head. “I don’t know. The adrenaline is pumping, but my stomach feels funny.”

“Cautious but optimistic?” Jessica put in.

“Unsure, but determined.”

Jessica broke into a smile. “That’s how I feel about my parenting skills most of the time and I think I’m doing okay.”

Cassie considered that. “I think I did well. I paused and thought before speaking. My therapist would be so proud.”

“I didn’t know you were in therapy.”

“Hello? Have you met my parents? Of course I need therapy. But my therapist died before she could help me fix me. It’s why I’m still a tad messed up.” Cassie grinned.

“Honey, we’re all a degree of messed up. At least you’re trying. You’re down to a ‘tad.’”

“I know. It’s just that space between trying hard and getting there can be tough for those of us of a more impulsive, easily distracted nature.”

“Speaking of being easily distracted . . . have you forgotten we had a deal?”

“A deal?”

“I’d call if you spilled.” Jessica pushed her chair back from her desk, crossed her legs, and folded her hands on top of her knees. Much like a therapist. “I swear it’s for your own good, Cassie. It looks like you need to unload.”

Cassie took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. If Red Realty was to become the premier brokerage for historic properties before the year was out, old wounds had to be poked and prodded. There was no getting around it. Fear of pain should never trump ambition. But what could she say? She couldn’t reveal how it all started. That was her parents’ secret, one that would ruin her father’s career. She’d never shared it with anyone.

She loved Jessica, though, and she trusted her enough to say, “The people closest to me all betrayed me, in entirely different ways, at almost exactly the same time. That includes Sam.” She closed her eyes and swallowed past an old lump, one that never seemed to go away for good. Being betrayed by those she’d loved and trusted most had cut deep. The center of the wound would remain fresh forever, it seemed, even when the outer edges had puckered and grayed.

When she straightened, she noticed Jessica had come to kneel beside her. “I’m sorry, hon. You don’t have to tell me and you don’t have to do this, you know. You don’t have to deal with Sam. You’re already a success.”

“It’s not enough, Jess. I have to be number one.
Especially
because Sam Amador happens to be involved. I can’t let the same people who slowed me down ten years ago keep me down again. My parents still harp about how embarrassing it was for them that I dropped out of college just as my dad was hawking higher education in the Senate.” Never mind that their secret had been the catalyst of her downward spiral. She grabbed Jessica’s hands. “I have to show them I can be a success in my own way. Ruby said it’s fate that I might get to prove myself in my dad’s old hometown.”

“Who’s Ruby?”

“One of the owners of the Gypsy Fortune Café and Bakery. She’s a direct descendant of the gypsies that founded Spinning Hills, and lately she’s gotten it into her head that she’s coming into her gypsy powers. She and the other owners are the ones who called and told me about the thirty-four properties. Ruby thinks the Amador curse finally has a chance of being broken and that the properties will play a part.”

Jessica sat back on her heels and smirked. “A curse?”

Cassie grinned. The thought of seeing her old friends again brightened her mood, making some of the darkness that had crept in tolerable. “A curse, haunted streets, pies with special meanings, and storybook houses. Some of the houses are run-down and scary-looking in a fantastical sort of way, but they tell me many more are beautifully restored. It’s all very picturesque. The town is a renovator’s dream.”

Jessica was quiet for a moment. “Do you think the owners of that gypsy café are the ones who told Sam you were the owner of Red Realty?”

She hadn’t thought of it, but it made perfect sense. “Of course it was them.” She sighed. “I expressly told them not to.”

“H
ow’s the property on McPherson coming along?” Sam asked Dan, without looking up. “Is it interfering with your day job?” The last thing he wanted was his brothers falling behind on their own dreams in order to help him with his. He hadn’t asked for their help, and he knew they stood to make good money once the properties they worked on sold, but the idea that their main motivation was to help him always nagged.

“It’s coming along. No worries.”

“Are you guys planning on sticking around all morning?” he asked next.

“It’s only eight thirty.” Dan frowned and looked out the window. “Are you expecting someone?” he asked.

Sam knew who Dan meant by
someone
. Dan was their half brother by their father, and he didn’t get along with his and Johnny’s mom. It wasn’t Dan’s fault, but Sam was tired of tiptoeing around it. Lately, his insides felt as if they were on a constant, low-simmering boil. “If you want to know if Mom’s coming by, just ask.”

Dan shot him a sharp look.

“What the hell’s eating you?” Johnny looked up from some blueprints.

“Is that how you’re going to open your sessions with future clients or patients or whatever you call them?” Sam quirked an eyebrow. Johnny was finishing up a PhD in school psychology, and Dan and Sam’s way of showing him they were proud of him was teasing him about it whenever they could.

“Aw, what’s wrong? Does Sammy Boy need a little TLC?” Johnny teased. He got up and Franken-walked toward Sam, arms wide.

Sam pushed Johnny’s arms away and tried not to laugh. “Get to work already. If you want to finish paying for that doctorate, you’ll need to finish up a few more houses.”

“For future reference, I prefer the
what the hell’s eating you?
approach,” Dan said.

“Is that your way of asking for a hug, too?” Johnny asked in the same ridiculous voice.

Johnny hooked his arms around their necks and hauled their heads together before they could react. It was more of a chokehold than a brotherly embrace.

 

Spinning Hills was a fifty-five-minute drive away from Cassie’s office in Loveland, a suburb of Cincinnati. Jessica lived midway between both places, and they had agreed Cassie would pick her up early the next day and have her home in time to pick up her kids from their after-school activities.

They were a few miles into the drive and Cassie’s knuckles were gripping the steering wheel so hard they hurt. She tried to loosen their grip and calm the butterflies in her stomach.

“Would you like me to drive?” Jessica asked.

“No. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Cassie stole a quick look at her friend. The problems of her youth seemed so insignificant next to everything Jessica had been through.

“I feel ridiculous. It’s only a stupid meeting.” Cassie reached over to squeeze her friend’s hand. “You’re a good friend, Jess. You’ve been through so much, yet you never act like other people’s made-up problems are silly, even when they are.”

“I spent last night and this morning worried senseless about Billy getting teased over a bad haircut.” Jessica leaned back. “I’ve never felt that losing my husband gives me the right to belittle other kinds of pain.”

“What happened to Billy’s hair?”

Jessica blew out a breath. “Billy decided to cut his own hair this morning and it was a disaster of epic proportions, even by Billy’s standards. It was unfixable. Sarah lent him her phone so he could text me and let me know how it goes at school because he was afraid other kids would make fun of him.” She eyed her phone. “He hasn’t texted yet, but he should be in his classroom by now.”

Cassie’s heart fell. “Oh, poor thing, do you have a picture? Maybe it isn’t that bad.” Jessica’s eight-year-old always managed to pull at her heartstrings. The boy was energetic, full of ideas, and impulsive.

“No pictures. He didn’t want evidence. It’s that bad. Anyway, it’s nine a.m. The bell has rung, class has begun, he can’t text me till lunch.” Jessica placed her phone in the cup holder. “Sometimes I think it’s because I named him Billy. Billys are always getting themselves into trouble. I should’ve named him Rick. Ricks seem to think things through before they act. And they always seem to be a successful CEO of something.”

“No. He’s no Rick. He’s a Billy through and through. You had no choice. At least you didn’t name him Tommy—they tend to be impulsive
and
highly imaginative. You don’t have the nerves for that kind of a ride.” Cassie noted how her friend’s corn-yellow hair was smooth, straight, and perfectly even. Not one loose or out-of-place strand.

“I bet you’ll end up with a Tommy. You could handle it. Just like you can handle this meeting with Sam Amador.”

The confidence those words instilled lasted until she drew to a stop at the first red light heading into Spinning Hills. She’d taken a longer route, wanting to see the downtown area first. Her nerves tingled as she looked around and her stomach fluttered so hard she could taste her breakfast. Ten years she’d been away. Everything was old. Everything was new. Including her feelings. A few deep breaths allowed her to focus on the world outside.

Wood and metal garden benches had been placed in between the mature oaks, maples, and catalpas that lined the stone-paved streets. The backrest of each bench had the words
Spinning Hills
scrolled onto it in curvy wrought-iron letters. It made her smile.

The green light flashed and Cassie drove on. The north part of the downtown area was flat and laid out in a grid pattern. Six streets crossed Lower Hillside, and there were only two F
OR
L
EASE
signs to be seen. Last time she’d driven past, F
OR
S
ALE
and F
OR
L
EASE
signs had lined the streets like billboards on I-75.

The rusty, peeling antique lampposts of her memory were now smooth and black. The bridges crossing the numerous streams and creeks had been painted red and they stood out like cardinals in a pine tree. The many evergreens seemed taller than she remembered, towering over the small downtown structures.

Lazy sunlight beamed down through light gray clouds on Spinning Hills. It looked like it was getting a second wind. She could relate.

“Cassie? Wow. This place looks like it came out of the pages of a children’s book. A modern Dickensian village or something.” Jessica buzzed the window down and nearly hung out of the car in a very un-Jessica-like fashion to gawk at everything. The air was wet and smelled of damp grass and rain-sprinkled evergreens. “Look at the thatched roof on that one. And the pitched one over there. Oh and the stonework on that archway. Does it always smell like Christmas here?”

“Pretty much. It’s all the fragrant evergreens. Fifty years ago, they decided to break some sort of record about evergreens per square mile. I think they won. They’ve also got the third most haunted street in Ohio, and the second most limestone buildings.”

Jessica continued to point out the town’s many charms, and Cassie felt as if she were looking at it all through foreign eyes. The downtown area was truly reaching its potential.

She hadn’t been a part of it.

“Is this where you grew up?” Jessica asked, enthralled. “It looks like a place that would spawn someone like you.”

“What do you mean?” Cassie asked, hoping she didn’t sound subdued.

Jessica pointed to one of a few boarded-up buildings on one of the side streets. “That building right there is beautiful in its own way, and it tells a part of the town’s story, too. I hope it never loses the gritty parts that tell that sadder story. You’re the one who taught me to appreciate that.”

Cassie blinked. It was exactly what she needed to hear. She and her grandmother had loved this town. They’d seen the magic even when it had been in a steep and steady decline. Dan, Sam, and Johnny had seen it, too. She could still be a part of keeping the magic and the whole story alive. “Thanks for that,” she said, softly. “I guess I mostly grew up here. I spent almost every weekend and my entire summers here, with my grandmother, back when Dad was a state senator.”

Jessica turned to look at her. “That’s right. You went to school in Columbus. I can’t believe I’m always forgetting you’re Ohio royalty.”

“Ohio royalty? There’s an oxymoron.” Cassie snorted.

Jessica’s eyes danced. “I was so intimidated the first day I met you. Tim had let slip your real last name. But when you walked in, wearing whipped cream on your upper lip, and then snorted when Tim pointed it out, I forgot.”

“I did not snort. I never snort.” The light turned yellow and Cassie hit the brakes, even though she had time to cross. They’d reached Lower Hillside and Main. Amador Construction and Preservation was a block up on the left, in front of Star Springs Park.

Jessica stared ahead, thoughtfully. “I’ve always stuck to Cincinnati and didn’t come here much, but I remember spotting storybook architecture sprinkled throughout the region. I wish I’d known there was an entire storybook town . . .” Her voice died away, and she pointed to the huge wood-burned sign that read G
YPSY
F
ORTUNE
C
AFÉ AND
B
AKERY
. “Did gypsies really live here?” she asked.

Cassie nodded distractedly. A quarter of a mile to the right was her grandmother’s old house, on a ravine that backed up to the park. She’d stop by after she visited the Gypsy Café, to see how it was holding up. Her gaze drifted; she spotted the water tower and did a double take. It had been painted in black-and-white spirals, like a barbershop pole, with the words W
ELCOME TO
S
PINNING
H
ILLS
printed in big red block letters. It was impossible to miss and could probably be seen for miles around.

Jessica followed her stunned gaze. “Wow. I want these listings for us, too, Cassie. Let’s do this.”

“Let’s do this!” Cassie echoed. The light turned green. They pumped their united hands in the air and let out a
woohoo
. The sign of one of their major competitors caught their attention, though, and the
woohoo
lost a little steam, but Cassie was grateful. It made her slightly apprehensive about her business, and she could turn that into fuel. The other nervousness roiling around in her stomach was personal and did her no good.

“You said you’d tell me your plan along the way and we’re almost there.”

Cassie beamed at her. “Good for you. I’m glad you want to know what you’ll be walking into. Assertiveness and preparedness will take you a long way.”

“I’m not getting out of this car until you tell me your plan.”

“What happened to being intimidated by me?” Cassie grumbled.

Jessica pointed to Cassie’s turquoise shirt. “You spilled coffee on yourself again.”

“Crap!”

“Just button your blazer up to the top and tell me your plan already.”

Cassie pulled into Amador Construction and Preservation’s side parking lot. “I don’t have a plan. My business instincts tell me to wing it.” Her heart thundered hard in her throat, as if she’d swallowed it. Her breakfast joined it. Though she’d meant to ease into the parking space between two beat-up pickup trucks, she somehow ended up speeding in and braking to a hard stop. She and Jessica jolted forward before snapping back.

Jessica glanced over at her. “Honey, you look like you’re about to faint. Are you sure you’re ready to wing it?”

“Yes. I have this trick where I turn nervousness into assertiveness by making myself get mad at the other person for making me feel nervous. It works. You’ll see.” Determined now to get the meeting over with, Cassie climbed out of her ’74 Mustang, and marched up to the door, ready to sweep inside, quickly and without further ado.

But she made the mistake of pausing for a quick moment to look inside before opening the door.

In front of her, through the gold lettering that spelled
Amador
, were her three old friends. Johnny was standing over Sam, giving him a noogie, while Dan laughed hard. It was a scene from her youth. A sense of loss washed over her. God, how she’d missed them.

Suddenly, it wasn’t so easy to sweep back into their lives.

All three brothers looked up. Dan’s blue eyes widened and Johnny’s jaw dropped. Dan sprang into action, walking toward the door just as Cassie felt a gentle push from behind.

Knowing Jessica was there, someone from her present life, grounded her before she floated off to days past and forgot why she was there in the first place. Dan opened the door and she stepped in.

It took her one moment. One moment to see Sam had become a man. Hints of stubble surrounded his well-formed mouth, and crinkles lined the corners of light brown eyes so clear, they’d always looked as if sunlight was hitting them. His thick, wavy, and perpetually messed-up golden brown hair was streaked with a few white-blond strands. His natural tan had deepened. She’d always thought he looked like a golden boy.