EJ then gave Kyle Torrence—freelance graphic designer who had worked on several ad campaigns on which EJ had been Creative Director and now EJ’s web designer—a call to hook him up with Jodie and see what they could come up with for his website campaign.
That comment Tabitha had made about his not being a morning person must have chafed more than he realized. He’d been getting up long before noon the last couple of days, and getting in several hours and chapters of writing when normally he would have just been getting up.
The early hours hadn’t yet caught up with him though he was still keeping his usual late schedule, up until the wee hours researching and outlining when he wasn’t actually writing.
55
Gracie C. McKeever
Once he had touched Tabitha, even if it had only been a tease—had gotten the initial rough meeting out of the way, and had decided he was going to have her—EJ had been able to write, firm decision releasing his creativity.
EJ pulled into his sister’s driveway in Wantagh forty-five minutes after hanging up with Tabitha. He turned off the ignition and got out of his Jeep as his sister came out and stood on the front steps as if expecting him.
He hadn’t felt her touch as he’d driven through her tree-lined neighborhood, didn’t think she had scanned him on the way, and finally decided she must have been forewarned by Evelyn.
“EJ, I’ve been expecting you.”
“No kidding.” He walked across the freshly mowed front lawn and instead of going into her outstretched arms, he put her in a gentle headlock and mussed her hair.
Angela giggled. “This is no way to treat a grandmother.”
EJ immediately released her and caught her by the shoulders. “Who and when?”
“Oh, no one’s pregnant. Perhaps I should have said a potential grandmother. You know I’m at that age. You owe me a little more respect than manhandling me like one of your nephews.”
“And you owe me a little privacy.”
Angela opened the front door and led the way into the house as EJ followed.
“Whatever on earth are you talking about?”
“Evelyn, Tabi—”
“Don’t tell me you’re not happy with her.”
EJ sighed, forked a hand through his hair, took a seat at the table in his sister’s sun-drenched tangerine colored kitchen and Angela immediately offered him a cup of her famous espresso.
“Thanks,” he mumbled and took a sip. “Whether I’m happy with her or not isn’t the point.”
“What is, EJ?”
“Look, I didn’t come over here to argue about this.”
“Didn’t you?”
“Angela.” He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as Angela took the seat across from him and reached for his hand. EJ opened his eyes and glared. “You’ve got to stop doing this.”
“What? Helping you find your soul mate?”
“You know I don’t believe in that New Age…stuff, Angie.”
“You used to.”
56
Beneath the Surface
“No, I used to humor you,” he lied. “Besides, I could find my own soul mate
if
I wanted to.”
“You can find a woman. We all know you’ve got more than enough experience in that area, but the question is, can you find the right one?”
“And the answer is ‘none of your business.’”
She squeezed his hand and returned his stare. “I hate seeing you like this.”
He raised his brows. “Like what?”
“So unhappy, in denial.”
EJ jerked his hand out of hers, lurched to his feet and paced in front of the table.
After several seconds, he paused and scowled at her. “I’m not a grief-stricken teenager anymore. I got over it a long time ago.”
“Did you?”
He curtly nodded and sat back down across from Angie. “Sinclair is ancient history.”
And even if she wasn’t, you can’t cure what ails me with burning candle rituals
anymore.
“That’s what your mouth says, but your heart tells a different story.”
EJ smiled at her response to his unspoken thoughts and last statement. “Will you stop acting like you know every little thing that goes on inside me and I don’t.”
“It’s not that you don’t know what’s going on. It’s that you’re ignoring it, ignoring your nature, acting against it.”
“How do you know what my nature is?”
Angela gave him one of those sage looks that used to annoy the hell out of him when he was a teenager. He didn’t know what pissed him off more, the fact that she was usually right, or that she didn’t have a qualm about sharing her perceptions with him any chance she got.
He guessed he should have been grateful that she cared so much, but sometimes she could be more interfering and smothering than their mother where his love life was concerned.
“I know you, EJ. None of us has seen you settle down with one woman for more than a month. It’s not healthy.”
“Yeah, but it’s fun.”
“You see what I mean? You try to come off as this carefree gigolo playing the field when what you want most out of life is to settle down and be with one woman.”
“Please don’t project your ideals onto me.”
“I’m not. They’re your ideals. You just won’t admit it.”
He might as well be trying to dust cobwebs off the moon for all the effect his objections were having on his sister. He’d known ahead of time that coming over was 57
Gracie C. McKeever
going to be a waste of time, but he couldn’t not come, he couldn’t let her interference go unaddressed.
EJ took one last gulp of his espresso, wiped his mouth with the napkin beside the cup and saucer and stood to leave.
Angela caught his hand, peered up at him and whispered, “You couldn’t have saved her, EJ. Sinclair was too troubled, too far gone for you to help.”
He swallowed hard, felt his Adam’s apple bobbing and hoped his sister didn’t notice it. “I know that,” he murmured.
“She wouldn’t want this for you.”
He was almost afraid to ask, but did anyway. “Wouldn’t want what?”
“You to be afraid to feel as deeply for someone else as you felt for her.”
“Who says I’m afraid?”
She just stared at him, said nothing.
“Look, I’ve got to go. I have an—”
“Appointment with Tabitha.”
“Before you get that glow in your eye, it’s not a date. It’s business. We’re going shopping.”
“Sounds like real serious business.”
“It’s her business. As you well know.”
Angela rose and slid an arm around his waist as she walked him to the front door.
She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, palmed his lightly whiskered jaw and smiled.
“Think about what I’ve said, okay?”
How could he not? Which was exactly what she’d been counting on, he knew.
* * * *
He caught sight of her before she saw him, noticed her tapping right pump, arms folded across her rounded breasts in a closed-off, stay-away stance that didn’t scare or fool him one bit.
He smiled as he neared and she still hadn’t seen him, sidled to her left and tapped her right shoulder from behind.
When Tabitha turned and didn’t see anyone on her right, she pivoted to her left and in that unguarded instant when she recognized him, he saw the smile in her eyes and knew he had her.
“On time is not late, contrary to some opinions.”
58
Beneath the Surface
She turned without saying a word and headed through the revolving doors of Macy’s.
EJ followed her into the store immediately entering the Men’s Wear section, confronted with ties, shirts, suits and more ties.
He shivered, uncomfortable not just because it had been so long since he’d been in this particular department store to do any serious shopping, but for the mere fact that he was in his sister Emilia’s territory.
He loved his sister—loved all of his siblings, he truly did—but Tabitha had had enough exposure to the Vega females in Evelyn and Angela. He didn’t want to overwhelm the poor girl with his family before either of them was ready. Not to mention he did not want to get embarrassed in front of someone he wanted so bad he couldn’t think straight and he would definitely be vulnerable if they bumped into Emilia. Bossy Evelyn was a bad enough influence. He didn’t want to add Emilia the Saint to the mix of him and Tabitha and give his sister a chance to interfere in his embryonic relationship with a fresh woman.
Tabitha didn’t seem to notice his uneasiness, busy browsing the tie racks before she came back to where he had paused in the center of the floor, frowning at him before her eyes lit up as if with sudden understanding. “I know how you feel about suits, but I thought we’d start with your least favorite items first and get them out of the way.”
“But I don’t want—”
She put a finger to his lips and he immediately shut up as a waft of her soft vanilla musk tickled his nostrils. “We’ll get all-purpose shirts and ties that can go with anything, so it won’t matter what sort of suit, or dress slacks and jackets you buy.”
“What if I don’t want any ties?”
“Just trust me. There’ll come a time when you’ll need one. Like if you’re asked to speak at some writer’s convention or conference. You’ll want to look your best, and make a good impression now won’t you?”
“Who says I’m going to be asked?”
“I’ve read your writing. You’ll be asked, trust me.”
EJ was so flattered the irony of the situation was almost lost on him—the personal shopper pitching to the former ad man.
He silently followed her to a table of shirts and watched Tabitha automatically pick up his size in several different colors. She turned to him, put each shirt against his chest, explaining as she did that the trick to finding a flattering shade was to hold the shirt under your chin to see how it reflected on your face.
EJ assumed that aqua, dark-blue striped, red and purple were good shades for him from the choices she made.
She settled on six shirts in varying colors and patterns that he never would have bought for himself, but decided he’d go along and trust her.
59
Gracie C. McKeever
After she made the selections and handed them over to EJ, she made a beeline for the ties in the same hue as the shirts she’d picked. She selected six designer silk numbers.
“We’re going to punch up sedate suits with boldly colored shirts and brightly patterned ties,” she said, then surprised him when she picked up one plain cotton long sleeve and one short sleeve black T-shirt on their way to the dressing room. She explained that she
“had plans for the T-shirts.”
Finally, she brought him to the suits and helped him pick out several to try on, assuring him that they weren’t going to purchase them all, just wanted to look at a variety.
He tried on the suits and shirts in the order that Tabitha told him to, and as he got to the last suit and modeled it in front of her, he realized how much her opinion mattered to him, how much he wanted to look good for her. How much he wanted to please her.
“Now this works just like I thought it would!”
“Like you thought, huh?” EJ raised his arms from his body and did a 360 in front of the mirror as Tabitha came up behind him and smoothed the lapels of the charcoal jacket.
He turned to glance at himself in the full-length mirror, admiring the fit of the suit, the color coordination. The T-shirt beneath the vest was dressy but not stifling.
“I pictured you in something like this when I was at your loft the other day, knew it would look good on you.”
“You did, did you?”
“Well, it does doesn’t it? And don’t even bother to lie.”
He looked at himself in the mirror again, then turned to her with a grin. “It looks great.”
“And you’re not even wearing a tie.”
“Means we can save them for something else more useful,” he whispered and chuckled when she blushed.
“C’mon. We’re about done here.” She pushed him towards the fitting room and pulled the curtain closed without another word.
* * * *
He’d had no idea that taking off and trying on clothes was such hard work.
“Can we break for something to eat?" EJ suggested, gave her a hopeful look. "I haven't had anything since breakfast; it's almost four and I'm starved. I'm sure you are too?”
60
Beneath the Surface
Tabitha looked at her watch as if to confirm the time. “Wow, I had no idea it was so late!”
“So? Can we?”
“Can we what?”
God save him from a woman with a purpose. “Break for something to eat. My treat. Somewhere in the Village maybe. A sidewalk café.”
“There are plenty of places around here to e—”
“I’d like to beat rush hour traffic and be closer to home. Besides, if I know you, I’m sure there are some places in the area to do some shopping.”
“You’re full of surprises, Eric”
“I may not do a lot of shopping, but I know there are some funky little clothing boutiques in the Village where we can do some browsing if not actually purchasing.” He saw the glitter in her eyes before he finished his sentence, wondered what he was getting himself into.
“You’re exactly right. And I know a couple of spots that have some dynamite designer shoes that would go great with that charcoal suit.”
“Great.”
* * * *
Tabitha chuckled, covering her discomfort sipping her café latte and wiping her mouth.
“What’s funny?”
She smiled, shook her head as she glanced past him for several long moments before finally getting her fill of narrow cobblestone streets, comedy clubs and growing pedestrian traffic in the Washington Square Area where EJ had settled.
“I’m serious, Tabitha. I want to know about you.”
“There’s nothing to know. You’re my client and I’m your personal shopper.”