Needs A Little TLC (Spinning Hills Romance 2) (6 page)

“So he’s happy.”

“He’s in his own little world, but he’s happy. And I think you’ll be happy, too,” she said as she put her pencil down and pushed the calculator away.

“Do the numbers make sense?”

“They do. A long-term partnership with a business like Amador Construction and Preservation is worth the short-term hit. We can get moving on this right away. You’d need to take care of the new lease and finding a new Realtor for the Cincy office. I’d have get to work on hiring painters, ordering furniture, and decorations for the new one.”

Cassie took a good look around. Jessica’s taste was impeccable and they had the same scheme in each office. Beige walls with dark red accents that matched their name, framed black-and-white pictures of old homes and neighborhoods, and an eclectic mix of vintage furniture that matched their niche market. “If we decide to move forward, I can handle both markets until I find the right Realtor.”

“It sounds like you’re not ready to commit.”

“I have too much time on my hands right now. Whether we open a satellite office down there and take on four properties or take on six and move our headquarters, handling both markets will be a challenge. I’m up for it.”

Jessica frowned at her. “Red Realty shouldn’t be your life. You need to get out more.”

“But I’m happy. I love my business. Most of my clients become family.”

“Define happiness.”

“Good friends, success in my chosen field, an automatic coffeemaker, and my heart in one piece. So I’m all set,” Cassie said, not missing a beat. “I’m in my own little world, like Billy.”

“Committing to Spinning Hills by moving our headquarters would bring you closer to old friends, make you even more successful in your chosen field, and you can find an automatic coffeemaker anywhere, so I’m guessing it’s your heart that’s holding you back?” Jessica looked into Cassie’s eyes. “Before you went to your grandmother’s house, you said you could handle Sam and that it would all come down to the numbers. Well, the numbers say we should move permanently.”

Cassie narrowed her eyes at her friend. “You’re a sneaky one, but the only thing holding me back is my dead therapist’s voice inside my head. She told me to think before I jump, and that’s what I’m trying to do.”

 

Cassie’s apartment was a thirty-minute drive from her office, and it had never felt like part of her world. It was only a place to park while she was out creating it.

Every week, without fail, she and her associates blogged about the history of particular houses or towns in their different markets, and every week, without fail, people looking to buy or sell an old house found them through that blog.

Every so often, a new client ended up being a troll or an ogre, but mostly those who found her understood the special magic hidden within the walls of old structures and they became part of her world. A home of her own hadn’t been necessary. Her needs and goals were met by spinning that magic for others.

But the moment she’d walked into her grandmother’s house, she’d been struck by an overwhelming sense of loss. Once upon a time, that abandoned, run-down structure had been her home and her sense of place in the world, until the day even Cassie had been stolen from her grandmother’s memory by cruel disease.

Cassie climbed out of the car and made her way to her mailbox, feeling more exhausted by the many short trips down memory lane than the long drive home.

A white, letter-sized envelope caught her attention first. She flipped it around to see the words
It’s not too late to go back to school and finish your degree!
printed across the front in bold green letters. It was from a college her mother had been talking about a few weeks before.

Cassie closed her eyes and breathed in and out a few times, inhaling her determination to prove herself to her parents and exhaling their disappointment in her.

Number one.
It was the only number they respected and she was so close.

She needed to show them she wasn’t a failure. She could do things her own way and still be a success. Her vision and passion were so strong. They’d finally see.

S
am walked into his office early the next morning to see Dan and Johnny looking down at a piece of paper. Dan glanced up, a question in his eyes. “You gave her sixteen properties, including the Tudor on Manor Row? I thought I heard you tell one of the other Realtors you wouldn’t put all your eggs in one basket. That’s nearly half your eggs, bro.”

Sam blinked. So Cassie had decided to move her headquarters to Spinning Hills. He pulled the contract out of Dan’s hands and slipped it into a drawer, wishing they’d leave so he could pour over it.

Johnny pretended to cup his privates. “Speaking of eggs, looks like you’ve lost your
huevos
,” he said in a bad Mexican accent.

Dan lifted an eyebrow. “I’d check and see, but I can’t see up his skirt from over here.”

Sam turned to the file cabinet so they couldn’t see he’d cracked a smile. The last thing they needed was encouragement. “If you guys don’t stop snooping around my desk, I’ll change the locks to the front door.”

“We were here when she dropped it on the desk, right in front of our noses. We couldn’t help it.” Johnny shrugged.

“She said to tell you she’ll meet you at the Tudor on Friday at seven in the morning to go over all thirty-four properties so she can choose which ones she wants,” Dan added.

Sam’s back stiffened and he slammed the door to the cabinet shut. “She thinks she’s calling the shots?”

“Didn’t she always?” Dan teased.

Johnny shook his head. “Uh, no. That’s what Sam used to let her think.”

Sam glanced at Johnny. “You’re smarter than you look.”

“That I am.” Johnny grinned. “Which reminds me, how’s the property on Old Spinning Hills Road coming along?”

“What now?”

“You know, Grandma Maddie’s old house. You’d said that was one of the last you’d work on, but the guys told me you sent a crew there this morning.” Johnny unwrapped a sandwich and took a bite.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “It backs up to the park. It’ll sell fast, so I decided to move it up.”

“Can’t wait to hear your plans on that one. Let’s take my new truck.” Dan picked up his keys.

“Let’s take your new truck where?” Sam eyed him warily.

“To Maddie’s house,” Johnny answered, mouth half full.

“No need.”

“Why?” Johnny asked, taking another—for some reason, annoying—bite of his sandwich.

Sam began rolling up blueprints. “Look, ladies, we have too much work to do to stand around chatting, so can it already. Get going.”

“To Maddie’s?” Johnny asked.

“He’s turning purple. I think we should leave him alone already.” Dan laughed and helped Sam clear the desk. “Last time I saw him this way was when I told him if he didn’t quit playing ‘Throwing It All Away’ twenty times a day, I’d snap the Genesis CD in two using his head. That would’ve been about ten years ago, right, Sam?”

“ ‘Throwing It All Away,’ really?” Johnny sighed and shook his head. “You’re right. We should leave him alone and offer our support. If any of this causes you anxiety and you want to talk things through, I’m here for you, bro. But if you’ve got things to work out and you want to work them out on her grandmother’s old house, I’ll just go take a peek every few days and analyze what it all means.”

Sam looked away, ignoring them, but his shoulders and back were beginning to hurt from remaining rigid.

“I think we should go,” Dan said to Johnny. Sam turned to see them heading toward the door. “We’re going to stop by and help Cassie set up the office she signed off on yesterday afternoon. We’ll leave you and the contract alone.”

They left and Sam pulled the contract back out, annoyed that Dan had been right. He picked up a pen, but his hand wavered above his printed name. Yesterday’s confrontation had made an already uncomfortable situation all the more awkward. He didn’t need it. But he blew a short breath out and scribbled his signature anyway.

Then he looked Cassie’s blog up again. The time stamp for her current post was just after midnight. It seemed he wasn’t the only who’d had trouble sleeping. She was announcing her new headquarters and it was all straightforward enough. Until he got to her reasoning for moving to the Dayton region.

Her words struck a deep chord.

They could make this partnership work. What they needed was a fresh start.

The day before, he’d done a thorough inspection of Maddie’s house and had found Cassie’s old bike abandoned in a cobwebbed corner of the attic. It was all rust and missing parts.

He didn’t have time to spare, but it was still early and one day would be enough for him to restore the sky-blue and white bike to its original glory. It would be a peace offering, of sorts, without having to go through a heavy and uncomfortable conversation.

 

Cassie and Jessica stared up at the rubble stone-and-stucco cottage that would now house their headquarters. Wood shingles, sharply pointed gables, and rolling eaves gave it the kind of whimsical charm that fueled fantasies. “I’m in love,” Jessica said, echoing Cassie’s sentiments.

“Me, too. But what’s that smell?”

They sniffed around until they found the source. Cassie wrinkled her nose. “No way clients will feel the magic if they’re accosted by a pile of dog poop when they visit the office.”

“I’ll get a plastic bag out of my car before we leave and you pick it up.”

“Fine.” Cassie rolled her eyes and sighed.

Jessica grabbed her hand. “Come on. I want to get another good look at the inside before I head out. There are tons of thrift shops and antique stores in the area where I can find exactly what we need.”

“Cassidy McGillicuddy, is that you?” a voice called out before Cassie could turn the key.

A middle-aged woman was staring at her from the sidewalk. She squinted and half-smiled in recognition. The years had been kind to Mrs. Flannigan. Cassie remembered her as the young, newly minted second-grade teacher Dan, Sam, and Johnny each had a crush on. “Mrs. Flannigan?” The woman nodded and Cassie walked over to give her a hug.

“No one told me you were back in town,” Mrs. Flannigan exclaimed when they parted.

“Few people know it, but it’ll spread soon enough. I’m a Realtor now and I’m opening an office here. This is my associate, Jessica Carter. Jessica, this is Mrs. Flannigan. She used to teach second grade at the elementary school here.”

“I still do,” she said as she reached out to shake Jessica’s hand. “Will you be listing Sam’s properties?” she asked.

It was a logical deduction, but it reminded her that most people in town didn’t know the turn their relationship had taken in college. Or how badly it had ended. “Yes. I’ll be listing some.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she replied before turning to Jessica with a nostalgic look on her face. “She and the Amador boys used to be inseparable.”

Jessica smiled. “So I’ve heard.”

Mrs. Flannigan glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get to school, but do you think you can stop by my class this Thursday? It’s career day and I don’t have a Realtor, or anyone in sales for that matter, booked. You can stay a little while afterward and we can get caught up.”

A career day chat to a room full of second-graders didn’t seem like it could hurt and it would be a new experience for her, so she agreed and quickly entered the cottage, before anyone else could stop them.

They toured the layout, decided where their main furniture would go, took a few measurements, and then were out the door, each driven by their own agenda.

Cassie ordered new marketing materials, carried out a more in-depth analysis of the regional market, and conducted a productive conference call with all three of her top Realtors in her car before meeting with Jessica again to make final decisions on furniture.

 

Sam’s plan had been simple. Leave the bike on the porch of the office Cassie had just leased, late in the afternoon, when she and Jessica would most likely be gone, and then leave.

But the moment he began climbing the steps, Marty and Johnny walked out the front door. When Johnny caught sight of the bike Sam was holding, a grin the size of Jupiter appeared on his face. Sam would like nothing better than to blast it off.

He left the bike on the porch and went back down the front steps, fully intending to ignore Marty and Johnny. The front door opened once again, and Sam looked back to see who else was in the office to witness what a fool he was.

Jessica and Cassie were standing on the porch, staring at the bike. He flexed his hand. The simple peace offering suddenly felt complicated.

Cassie’s eyes met his. The fleeting, touched look in her eyes made him regret it and feel it was worth it all at once. A contradiction that gave him heartburn. “Where’d you find it?” she asked.

“In the attic.” He cleared his throat, aware of Johnny and Marty’s amused expressions. “We got off to a bad start—it’s not good for business,” he said before turning to leave.

He climbed into his truck, shifted it into gear, and drove down the long, sloping road without looking back. When he got to the bottom of the hill, he remembered he’d left the tailgate down and pulled over to lift it.

He pulled back out, stopped at the red light, and flipped the signal to turn right when he felt something bump into his truck. The rearview mirror didn’t reveal anything, so he put his emergency lights on and shifted the gear to Park.

When he got out, he saw Johnny, Marty, and Jessica running down the hill. When he got to the back of the truck, Cassie was sprawled on the ground, blood drizzling down her knee.

“Cassie! Are you okay?”

She looked up, a little dazed. A moment later, she started to laugh. At first, it was a nervous laugh, but soon, it turned into one of those big belly laughs that shook her shoulders and made tears roll down her cheeks. Sam couldn’t join in. He knelt and tried to look at her knee, but she shielded it. “I forgot the hand brakes had never been attached!” she let out between laughs.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, feeling like a turd. “You always preferred the foot brake, but I forgot that was twenty years ago.” Why hadn’t he thought of buying the hand brakes? Because he’d offered to do it twenty years ago and she’d laughed in his face? Sam wanted to bash his head into the pavement. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” They looked into each other’s eyes then, and Cassie must’ve seen how angry he was at himself, because she stopped laughing. A small part of him was also angry at her. Riding full-speed down a hill at her age was a harebrained idea. Hadn’t she outgrown those?

 

Cassie stared into his eyes, the golden flecks around his pupils burning bright. The way his eyelids drooped over his eyes usually made it seem as if he were always looking from underneath his lashes, but they were wide open at the moment and looking intently into her own, trying to assess if she was really all right.

She swallowed hard and looked away. The look and the bike reminded her of her best friend. Of the freedom and safety that came from knowing someone so well.

But she couldn’t allow herself to fall for that false illusion. They no longer knew each other at all. He had a son, an ex-wife, a whole life she didn’t know about. “I’m okay. It was exhilarating.”

The gold flecks in his eyes flashed. “Exhilarating? You’re nearly thirty years old! What were you thinking?”

Cassie felt her eyes widen. “I was thinking you’d attached the brakes! And I wouldn’t have been going full-speed if they’d been there!”
The nerve of him!

“Cassie! Cassie! Are you all right?” An out-of-breath Jessica called as she drew nearer. She’d outrun both Marty and Johnny.

Cassie looked up at her concerned friends and did her best to force a smile. “I’m fine.”

“You look dazed! Where’s my phone? Someone call an ambulance!”

“What the hell happened?” Johnny reached them, and he looked almost as miserable as Sam. “You said you were going to take it for a spin, not take it downhill at full speed like a hellion.”

“The hand brakes have been missing forever, but I tried those first, out of more recent habits. I was going too fast and I waited until the last moment, like I used to, but I’m okay. I promise.”

 

Before Cassie could react, Sam scooped her up and she felt strong arms and a hard chest. He pulled the tailgate down and set her on it. While she had felt fine before, her heart now started pounding at an alarming rate.

“Damn, Cassie, you’re going to need stitches on that, doesn’t it hurt?” Sam asked.

It did hurt, but too many body parts were out of control for her to zero in on her knee. The last thing she wanted was to physically react to Sam.

“I have a first-aid kit in the truck,” he said before moving away. “We’ll get you cleaned up and take you to the emergency room to get stitched up.”

“This is hardly an emergency,” she muttered, glad he’d left because she didn’t want him to see how much his nearness affected her. She didn’t dare look up at anyone.

“No, but private practices are closed, you have no choice, and they need to check your head,” Jessica argued.

Sam set the first-aid kit beside her and took wipes and an antiseptic spray out. “I can do it myself,” she said, not wanting to feel his touch.

“The more things change. . . .” He looked at her and his lips twitched. But his smile was sad. And lonely.

When she was done cleaning herself up, Sam picked her up again without warning, and she had to grab on to him to steady herself. The man was solid. She let go and banged on his chest. “Set me down,
now
. I can drive myself.”