Authors: Heather Hiestand
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. The Brisa thing is settled, right?”
“Sure it is.” Rob set down his fork. He had no appetite.
“Is there any chance you’ll stay on when Professional
Massage takes over?”
Rob shook his head. Why would she ask that? “None. Grandfather
would throw a fit. He wants me out of the business entirely.”
“It’s better that way, for us, I mean. The Tommy Joe thing
just happened—he only cares about work. It just got mixed up a little bit. But
you and I—”
“Yes?” He prompted her.
“I guess I might be hopeful.” She offered him a tentative
smile.
“We only met two weeks ago,” Rob cautioned.
“I know, but you’d agree there were possibilities, right?”
“‘Though I am different from you/We were born involved in
one another’,” he quoted. Wasn’t that the truth.
“That’s so sweet,” Melanie said, her eyes glowing. “Who said
that?”
“T’ao Ch’ien.”
“Wow. Kind of obscure.”
“I have that kind of brain.”
“Impressive. I’m ready to turn to mush for a guy who can
talk sweet nothings in my ear,” she teased.
Rob leaned forward. “Sweet is my middle name.”
* * * * *
Rob pulled into the semicircular drive in front of his
grandfather’s Laurelhurst mansion. If there had ever been a time to talk his
grandfather out of selling LeatherWorks, it was now. He had a solid reason to
dissuade him, thanks to Melanie Vanderpool.
He opened his door and swung out his legs then stood,
straightening out the wrinkles. He buttoned the top button of his shirt and
straightened his tie. Appearances make the man, his grandfather always said.
Winter, his grandfather’s manservant, opened the door as
always.
“Is Mr. Black available for visitors?” Rob asked. It didn’t
pay to be informal in this environment.
“I will ascertain that, sir,” Winter said without a hint of
humor. He nodded his long, dour head to Rob and went through a door on the
left.
His grandfather had moved his bedroom to the main floor of
his house a couple of years ago since osteoarthritis had taken its toll on his
joints. He was nearly eighty-three now and usually felt every day of it.
Rob glanced around the foyer. The picture of his mother
looking like a forties movie star still sat, dust free, on the Chinese cabinet
that rested upon the tastefully muted marble floor, Louis XVI chairs on either
side. They were reproductions, but Rob knew from experience that Winter would
frown if he returned to find Rob sitting on one of them.
When Winter returned, he motioned to Rob.
The first person Rob saw when he entered his grandfather’s
office was Tida. In the past, when he’d seen Brisa in that old-fashioned,
starched nurse’s uniform, his heart had skipped a beat. Seeing Tida there just
made him glad. One woman saved from Drew Huntley. But it didn’t really make him
even with that evil man. Brisa must have been Honey Luscious. The next time he
saw Anita he’d get the truth out of her, but how many women could there be out
there that looked like the Vanderpool cousins? His fists clenched involuntarily
at the idea of Brisa in the clutches of Huntley and his kind. Thank God she had
escaped.
“Mr. Black,” Tida said with a smile and held out her hand to
shake. A new mantle of dignity seemed to have come to rest on her since she
took the job, but she didn’t like to listen to the Blacks’ meetings. Brisa had
never been shy about hearing LeatherWorks business, though she had never
expressed an opinion, but Tida liked to duck out.
She wouldn’t be able to do that today though. Rob could see
this wasn’t one of his grandfather’s good days.
“How are you, sir?” he asked his grandfather, who sat behind
a large mahogany desk, looking old and tired.
“Can’t complain, son,” John Black said with a cough. “What
brings you here? It’s not our usual day. Are you here for a look at my new
dolly?”
“Grandfather,” Rob said sharply. “This is the sort of talk
that just cost LeatherWorks thousands.”
“She thought she was too good for me, that one,” the old man
wheezed, “despite being a single mother. If I was forty years younger, well,
I’dve had her.”
Rob glanced at Tida, who stood against a wall by the back
door out of the room. Her face betrayed no emotion, but as he watched, her hand
came up and touched the back of her hairline, as if to make sure her bun hadn’t
come down.
“I am surprised, though, Robert, that you hired me an ethnic
girl. It’s a nice change, I suppose.” John Black blinked several times.
“Grandfather? Is it time to test your blood sugar?”
“No,” Tida replied. “He took a very short nap this morning.
He is tired.”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, young woman. My
grandson directed that question to me.”
Tida bowed her head. Rob winked in her direction, hoping she
didn’t take Grandfather’s crotchety ways personally.
“Do you have time for a chat?” Rob asked.
John Black sent a dark look in Tida’s direction. “No opinion
on that, young lady?” His speech was a little slurred. “No? Why then, yes, I do
have time for a chat.”
“I will make up the bed,” Tida said.
“No.” Rob held up his hand. He didn’t like the look of
Grandfather today. He wanted his nursing assistant handy. “Stay.”
Tida nodded. His grandfather pointed him to a chair in front
of the desk and Rob sat. Noting the shaking in his grandfather’s arm and the
effort it took for him to raise it, Rob wondered how much time Grandfather had
left.
“I wanted to suggest you not move forward with the sale to
Professional Massage.”
“Not that again,” John Black said, squirming in his chair.
“You’re a broken record, son. I’m doing this for you. You could do more with
your life.”
Rob breathed in through his nose for three seconds and
released the breath. “Let’s take me out of the equation, sir.”
His grandfather raised his eyebrows.
“I have information that indicates Professional Massage is
not capable of completing the sale.”
He heard a sharply indrawn breath, but it didn’t come from
him and Grandfather was unlikely to have the kind of lung capacity to manage
it. Rob turned. Tida looked at him with wide eyes. Maybe she had stubbed her
toe or something.
“If you can’t be quiet, leave!” John Black commanded. Tida
dropped her gaze and scuttled from the room.
Winter stepped in quietly with a coffee tray when the door
opened.
“You aren’t supposed to drink that, sir,” Rob admonished.
“It’s decaf,” he snarled. “I’m not a fool, boy.” He took a
deep wheezing breath.
“Of course.” Rob felt no repentance and was glad to hear his
nagging had paid off. Or more likely, Winter had refused to purchase the loaded
stuff until his grandfather had resigned himself. Winter always knew
Grandfather’s medical condition and arranged the household accordingly despite
his employer’s demands.
John Black took a sip of the milky coffee his manservant had
prepared for him. “What’s this about Professional Massage now? What have you
been up to, or is it that Jack fellow who has been up to mischief?”
“Entirely by accident, I met a woman who is a manager at
Professional Massage.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tida enter the room
with an open pill case.
“Who is that?”
“Melanie Vanderpool.”
“Vanderpool?” the old man wheezed. “Any relation to Brisa?”
Rob nodded, reminding himself to ask Dr. Lane if his
grandfather was going into congestive heart failure. He had been warned that it
was a possibility. At least his lips weren’t blue, he was getting enough
oxygen.
“So this Vanderpool girl says Professional Massage can’t
afford us?”
Tida set the pill case down with a clunk by her employer’s
hand then left again. Grandfather took a pill and swallowed it.
“That’s right. She said they’d been having quality problems
and sale reductions. She also complained about the cost limits on new
development.”
“Does she think they are going downhill?”
“No,” Rob said reluctantly, feeling the conversation sway in
his direction. But he wouldn’t lie. “However, it could be six to twelve months
before they recover, according to her.”
John Black rubbed his chin. “I don’t like the idea of the
LeatherWorks name getting mixed up with a company that’s got quality problems.”
Rob held his breath. Was this the break he’d been waiting
for?
“What troubles me is they’ve always had a reputation for a
good product. What is going on? Their management hasn’t changed. They are a
fine, stable, local company. We were a good match.” He coughed several times
then took a sip of coffee.
At the rasping coughs, Rob took careful inventory of his
grandfather. They had spoken long enough. “You should rest.”
John Black shook his head. “Not until I call Dick Porter
over at Professional Massage. We had a cash deal. If he can’t make his
commitment, I’ll delay the conversation for six months.”
Rob tried to keep a straight face. Success!
John Black raised a finger that shook only slightly. “Don’t
think you are excused from getting on with your life, Rob. No decent woman
would marry a man who runs a sex toy company. Look what happened to your
mother.”
“It could have happened to anyone,” Rob mumbled.
John Black’s lips tightened. After a moment, he tried to
compose himself. Rob had never seen this kind of weakness in him before and
hoped the old man wasn’t about to cry for the first time in his life. “Maybe I
never made it clear to you what that man said to her, Robert. Maybe I held my
counsel because, God knows, that man was your father. But be assured he thought
he was too good for you.”
“He might have come back if he hadn’t died.”
John Black shook his head. “Don’t kid yourself, son. He was
engaged to another woman, a country club princess.”
Rob choked back his denial. Grandfather never lied. He had
merely allowed Rob to keep his illusions. He tried to be grateful for that.
“You never told me.”
Grandfather moved his hands from his lap to the table, as if
showing all his cards. “I didn’t want to hurt you more than you already were.”
Rob looked at his own hands, strong and unblemished, unlike
the gnarled arthritic ones of his grandfather. How strong he was, even now.
“Still, it’s the twenty-first century. Times are different.”
The old man fixed Rob with his still strong stare. “You are
thirty-four. A decent man and you are alone, Robert. Why? I’d like to see my
great-grandson before I die.”
Rob smiled to hide his frustration. “It happens. I work a
lot of hours.”
John Black rolled his eyes and said with disgust, “You
haven’t met a decent girl. And why would you? Pornographers and creative
people. Where are you going to find a nice girl in that lot and if you met one
by accident, well, they’d leave soon enough after interacting with your
colleagues.” He coughed and sank a little in his chair.
Rob stood quickly and went to find Tida. He wasn’t convinced
Grandfather was right about his chances for love, but he was more than willing
to give Grandfather a great-grandson before he died. A welcome image of Melanie
flashed into his mind. She’d have beautiful children. He wondered if
Grandfather would like her.
Chapter Thirteen
“You must have heard something of interest by now, Tida,” Al
insisted, forking a spear of asparagus into his mouth. She had been so silent during
her first week at John Black’s mansion that he was beginning to worry about her
loyalties. In an attempt to loosen her tongue, he had taken her to a pricey
seafood restaurant on Westlake and had even made sure they had a water view,
but the way she was pouting he might as well have brought her to McDonald’s.
Under the muted glow of Tiffany-style chandeliers, Tida’s
glance at him was sullen. He hoped the other diners around their table only
noticed the beauty with him and not her behavior. “Oh c’mon, baby. I’m only
trying to help you.”
“Really?” Her tone was scathing, though she sipped from a
crystal wineglass poured from an eighty-dollar bottle of chardonnay. She didn’t
fit in. That polyester black minidress she wore couldn’t have cost more than
fifty dollars and her black pumps were worn down at the heels, he’d noticed.
“Don’t get snippy with me. If you want a shot at a lucrative
modeling contract, you need to show your value to the organization.” Al shoved
another asparagus spear into his mouth and chewed ferociously. The women at the
other tables were dressed in tailored dinner suits and reeked of refinement.
Why wasn’t he living that life with them?
“How much money will I get?”
“A lot. I’ll take care of you, baby, you know that.” He
smiled at her.
Tida tightened her fist around the knife she had been using
to cut her salmon. “You have asparagus in your teeth,” she remarked casually.
Al closed his mouth, furious with her. “What do you know?”
Tida dropped her fork and tossed her napkin on the table. “I
know I have good job, for good money. I know your company will not be able to
buy LeatherWorks because you do not have the money.”
“What?” Al growled.
“Melanie Vanderpool said so to young Mr. Black. This deal
will not happen. You lie to me!” She stood.
“Melanie spoke to Rob Black?” Al said, incredulous.
“What do I know? I am just dumb immigrant, you think,
right?” Tida pushed back her luscious black mane and put her hands on her hips.
“I know what is smart and what is smart is not you. I stay with John Black and
not talk to you any more. When he dies, I get better job, one where my patient
does not behave like you. Winter say he help me.”
“Winter?”
“Yes. He work there too. You are fool, Al Plowman, and I do
not care to be your baby anymore.” Tida turned on her heel and walked away,
swinging her hips under her cheap black dress. Al was grateful she hadn’t
thrown anything at him, the way Anita had when he dumped her earlier in the
year. He cringed with the memory. Women. He was through with Tida Toruksa, but on
Monday morning another woman would pay for it. Melanie Vanderpool. That bitch
had just ruined his sex life and she was going to get shafted in return.
* * * * *
“It’s nice to spend an evening with you that doesn’t start
with you on a date with another man,” Rob said affectionately, draping his arm
around Melanie.
“It is nice, isn’t it?” Melanie agreed, matching her stride
to his. Walking around Greenlake had always been her favorite way to spend
summer evenings. It seemed as if Seattle’s entire population ventured out in
the early evening sun, spending those last weeks before Labor Day doing what
the Lord intended—picnicking, roller-blading, biking, pushing kids in
strollers, holding hands. In the last half hour she had seen more pasty white
legs in shorts than had any right to exist, but after all, this was Seattle,
where you didn’t tan, but rusted.
She glanced down to her left. Rob, of course, had perfect
legs, solid, muscular, lightly olive-toned so he didn’t need a tan. She loved
having a sexy, athletic man close by. The sun streaks were back in his hair, as
the dark dye had washed out during the week since the costume ball, but he had
been dark-haired long enough to settle the issue of whether her soul mate had
dark hair, though there was the niggling question of what her soul mate had to
do with her job, as predicted by Madame Lois. After Brisa’s reading, with all
that nonsense about sacrificial lambs and self-sufficiency in her latest
reading, she was ready to give up on the tarot anyway. Who needed it when you
had a strong shoulder to lean on?
She could hear that sarcastic little voice chanting
“back-slider!” somewhere in her head, but she pushed it away. Rob wasn’t taking
over any important function in her life—at least not one that wasn’t filled
already. For instance, the lover position was available.
Melanie put her arm around Rob’s waist. “Want a job?” she
quipped.
“Huh?” Rob responded, absently. He tugged her off the path
and into the grass leading down an incline to the lake. “Look over there!”
Melanie followed the path of his pointing finger with her
eyes. “What?”
“Some kids are sailing model boats. Let’s go see!”
Melanie allowed Rob to pull her along, not sure why this was
such a thrill to a grown man. He let her go and crouched down by the edge of
the water with a happy grin.
“I used to love making these things,” he said, pulling off
his sunglasses. “My mother would bring me here when I was a kid.” They watched
a plywood boat bob along in the green-blue water at the edge of the lake. A
little kid a few years younger than Ethan sat cross-legged at the edge of the
water, watching intently. A yard away an older child placed a Popsicle raft
with a blue-striped sail into the water.
“You’ve never mentioned your mother before.”
Rob shrugged. “She’s been gone a long time. We always lived
with Grandfather anyway.”
Melanie sat down in the grass a few inches from where Rob
was hunkered down. “How old were you when she died?”
“Eleven. But she drifted in and out of rehab a lot. I went
to school and then went to LeatherWorks and did my homework there. I always
hung around with the guys in the factory until dinnertime. They were my
family.”
“That’s too bad.”
Rob turned from the boats, squinting against the sun. “No,
it isn’t. They were really good to me. I promised myself one day, when I was in
charge, they could count on me.”
“That’s why you don’t want to sell.” Melanie nodded and
plucked at the grass around her knees. She pulled out a bright stalk and held
it to her nose, breathing in its green, earthy scent.
“You’ve got it. No one could care more about those guys than
me. People work at LeatherWorks a long time. They become family.”
Melanie rubbed the stalk between her fingers, releasing more
of its scent. “So why does your grandfather want to sell?”
“He blames his business for my mother’s crappy life. He
thinks she wouldn’t have done drugs if my father hadn’t left her and he thinks
my father left her because of the family business.”
“Really.” She frowned and dropped the grass, scooting a
little closer to Rob.
“Yeah. And he thinks I can’t find a nice girl because of my
job either.” He laughed. “I don’t know exactly why it’s started troubling him
now.”
“That’s silly. I’m sure nice girls work there. Like Brisa.”
Rob put his aviator shades back on. They hid his dark eyes,
making him seem a little mysterious all of a sudden. “You really think so? My
guess is that your cousin was Honey Luscious.”
Melanie thrust out her chin. “So what? She made a mistake.”
Brisa couldn’t expect her to keep this secret from Rob. He was involved whether
they liked it or not, but it didn’t mean she felt comfortable talking about it.
“I agree, but Grandfather wouldn’t think so.”
“A past or not, Brisa is a good person. People can change.
Or mature. If you don’t believe that, your view of humanity is so narrow.”
“Grandfather has a virgin/whore complex. Women are either
all good or all bad. He’s old-fashioned,” Rob said evenly. His voice lightened
as he said, “Anyway, I’m capable of meeting a nice girl. I met you!”
Melanie shook her head, hoping Rob didn’t subscribe to any
part of his grandfather’s notions. “I just hope what you think is more
important than what he thinks. If he’s that old-fashioned, he’ll probably think
I’m a harlot because I’m divorced.”
Rob leaned back and tilted his head toward her. “Actually,
he was divorced once. He eloped with some girl when he was nineteen, but she
turned out to be underage and the marriage was annulled. A couple of years
later he married my grandmother and the rest is history.”
“So I’m safe from condemnation.” She felt this was a mixed
blessing.
“You bet.” He moved next to her and put his arm back around
her. Melanie closed her eyes and leaned against his shoulder and enjoyed the
sensation of the sun against her face.
A child broke into a loud cry. Melanie looked up to see the
younger of the two model sailors dash into the water. She saw his little model
boat had drifted about four feet into the lake and struggled to her feet.
Rob was faster. “No you don’t!” Rob exclaimed and dashed
into the water after the child. He threw his arms around him and swept him out
of the water.
“That’s a very bad idea, kiddo. Where are your parents?”
Melanie looked around, but didn’t see any adults other than a woman sitting on
a park bench who she thought belonged to the older boy. At least she didn’t
seem concerned with the present drama.
“I want my boat!” the child wailed.
“Give him to me,” Melanie gestured, putting a hand in her
pocket to pull out her handkerchief. Rob nodded and set him down. Melanie knelt
and rubbed at the greenish algae on the boy’s shins. His green neon flip-flops
were probably ruined. Where were the child’s parents?
She glanced over to the water. The sun lit the lake brightly
and Rob appeared to be wading though starlight as he went valiantly after the
child’s boat. He grabbed the fragile craft in one hand and waved it over his
head. As he splashed back though thigh-high water, Melanie laughed and thought,
my hero!
She shook her head as he came up toward them. “You need a
shower, big guy.”
Rob looked down at the algae scum lightly sheening his legs
under the droplets of water streaming down. “You’re right.”
He winked at her. “Maybe you can wield the washcloth.”
Melanie couldn’t hide her grin. Finally! Another condom
would not go wasted.
Rob knelt down and handed the boat to the child. “What’s
your name?”
The boy wrinkled his nose. “I’m not supposed to talk to
strangers.”
Rob nodded. “Good point. But it’s also important to stay out
of the water, okay?”
The boy’s lips trembled. “But my boat was gonna get losted!”
“You could have gotten yourself losted, kiddo. Stay out of
the water until you learn to swim, okay?”
A teenage girl in an orange sundress rushed toward them. “Oh
my gosh! Jacob!”
The boy didn’t look too thrilled at the intrusion, but he
allowed the girl to give him a hug. “I told you we’d play boats later!”
Jacob stuck out his chin. “I was bored.”
“He could have drowned,” Melanie said. “You need to keep a
better eye on him.”
Rob put an arm around her in response to the girl’s hostile
look. “We don’t want to tell you how to do your job, young lady, but Jacob
could have gotten himself into serious trouble down here.”
“His brother threw up. I was trying to get him clean when
Jacob ran away,” the girl said, her diamond nose ring flashing in the sunlight.
“Maybe it’s time for you to pack up for the evening,” Rob
suggested calmly.
“I can’t,” the girl said. “Their mother isn’t picking us up
until eight.”
Melanie frowned as Rob’s leg brushed hers. His skin felt
clammy. He needed to get home and get cleaned up. And she needed to go with
him.
Rob pulled his cell phone out of his shorts’ pocket. “What’s
her number?” At the girl’s recitation, he dialed the number and handed it to
her. Luckily, the mother of the hapless twosome was home and said she’d be
there shortly.
“I’m glad the boy’s mother was able to come and get them,”
Melanie said as they walked away from the curb where they saw the misfortunate
trio off, followed by the mother’s many thanks. A cloud passed over the sun,
changing the shadows of the large evergreens surrounding them. She watched a
chain of cars turn right out of the parking lot.
“That’s one babysitter who bit off more than she could
chew,” Rob agreed. He sneezed.
“You’d better get home and get into the shower,” Melanie
said, rubbing his back. “We must be a mile away from our cars though.”
“Let’s walk fast,” Rob suggested.
“Let’s,” Melanie agreed. “I’m afraid some microorganism is
going to take root in you if you don’t get that primordial ooze washed off.”
“Kids swim in this water,” he protested. “I’m sure it’s
fine.”
“You know what kids do in the water, don’t you, Rob?”
He grimaced. “Don’t tell me. In fact, let’s change the
subject. Are you going to follow me home?”
“Sure.”
“And then we can spend the day together tomorrow?”
“I can’t. Family picnic.” Melanie tried to slow down, but
Rob’s pace hurried her along.
“Want me to come along?” Rob grabbed her hand.
She tilted her chin up to him. “Let’s keep this private,
okay?”
“How come?” Rob demanded.
“Because it’s so new,” Melanie said. “We don’t know where this
will take us.”
“I don’t want to sleep with a woman who won’t introduce me
to her family,” Rob growled. “If you aren’t sure about me, then let’s go on a
few more dates.”
“Don’t you ever just want to lose control for a night?”
“No.”
Melanie bit her lip. “I just got divorced you know.”
“What does that mean? You aren’t looking for anything
serious?”
“Not exactly, but I want to relax and not take things so
seriously.”