CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sami walked back and forth from the frilly blue and white room to the lavender showpiece, and after sighing over her uncharacteristic lack of decisiveness, she retrieved her roller bag and purse and plopped them onto the carpet in the blue and white master. She returned to the living room to collect the two boxes from her parents’ house. All three dogs followed her as she moved, no doubt working to explore and understand this new territory.
Opening the doors to the walk-in closet, Sami debated whether to unpack or live out of her suitcase. A need for normalcy won out. She hung her few items of clothing and used one built-in drawer for her lingerie and swim wear. When she picked up the gauzy shirt she’d worn during the drive from New Orleans, she held it to her face and inhaled.
Perhaps it was her imagination on overdrive, but as she breathed in, she felt Flynn holding her close, slipping the buttons free, and his mouth lowering—
Sami dropped the blouse.
“Stop those thoughts this very minute,” she said out loud.
Ruby barked.
“I accept that bark as a second to my motion,” Sami said, stooping to stroke Ruby on the head.
There was no point in the useless mental exercise of dwelling on any fact or emotion relative to Flynn Lawrence. She’d be better served revising her dating questionnaire, perhaps simplifying it, and sending it out again. Sans the one to Sean, of course. Or better yet, make the most of Friday night’s introduction to Vonnie’s doctor friend.
She carried the two boxes from her parents and placed them on the floor of the closet. As she did, the bundle of old letters and what looked like a small journal caught her eye. She pulled the journal from the box, found a bottle of water in what was an impressively-stocked refrigerator and made her way to the balcony off the bedroom, dogs padding along.
Only once during her childhood had Sami kept a diary. It had been the summer before she turned twelve, the summer before Emile and Nathalie dropped her off at boarding school. She and Vonnie had purchased matching diaries with miniature locks and keys and devoted at least ten minutes a day penning their entries. Sami knew most of hers had been about boys, which embarrassed her to recall. Vonnie had made lists of medical terms and gathered notes on the best options for college and med school.
Sami opened the French doors and stepped onto the balcony. She settled into one of a pair of chaise longues and propped her feet up. The dogs found their choice of spots. After a sip of water, Sami eyed the journal, debating whether she should open it. It did not belong to her.
But it had been in the box her parents had left for her to sort, claim or dispose of.
She turned to the first page.
Her mother’s handwriting leapt out at her. Bold letters read PRIVATE. CONFIDENTIAL. PROPERTY OF NATHALIE SOLANGE.
Solange. Her mother’s name before she married Emile and changed it to Pepper, to Sami an act that had always seemed at odds with her feminist stance.
Sami read the first several pages, filled with details of her residency training. She smiled slightly, thinking Vonnie truly was the daughter Nathalie would have loved for Sami to be. Sami flipped through a few more pages, all pretty much in line with the early entries. She clearly loved her profession and had no doubt at all as to her choice to pursue a surgical specialization in neurology.
None of the entries contained a date, but Sami could place her mother’s history fairly well. Nathalie and Emile had met during their residency years. Oddly enough, Sami found no personal comments. She took another sip of water and decided the journal had been left in the box to serve the same purpose as Surgeon Barbie.
Yet another reminder from her mother that she’d pursued a less high calling than her parents.
Sami frowned. She closed the journal and then opened it at random, about the middle of the small book.
Philippe and I had coffee after evening rounds. We talked for hours. And hours. Talking. Nothing else. But I felt my heart alive in a way I have never known. Never thought possible. I must not see him again.
Philippe?
Sami opened the journal closer to the front. More medical incidents. Reference notes. And then, she spotted:
Emile and I have agreed we will not have children. We are perfect for one another and will devote our lives to research for the good of everyone with neurological diseases. We will marry in the fall. My parents are pleased. His mother is delighted and sorry that Emile’s father died so young. I believe it was that early death that inspired Emile’s professional goals and his decision not to procreate. I respect and embrace his decision. He has given me a two-carat diamond. It is beautiful but does not compare with the beauty of our love.
Sami inserted a finger to hold the page and stared out across the balcony railings to the spring growth of the woods surrounding her view. She squinted and tried to focus on the greenery, but the words she’d just read ran across her vision, over and over.
What had happened to change Emile’s mind? And where in the world had Philippe come from? How had he entered her mother’s heart at a time when she was engaged to be married?
Sami freed her finger and snapped the journal closed. None of that mattered. Ancient history was best left alone, or to the study of historians and archeologists. She was neither. She was a woman with a professional calling she enjoyed, research that stimulated her mind, and a strong desire to achieve her goal of joining all her girlfriends in their married state.
Reading about her parents’ past would further none of her goals.
She jumped up. “Time for a walk,” she said to the dogs, and of course Ruby started running in circles and barking.
Sami left the journal inside on the white-stained oak bedside table, changed her shoes, found the dogs’ leashes and her pooch pickup bags and headed down the stairs.
Kyle was in the concrete swath in front of the garage, polishing an expensive-looking car. Sami didn’t know a lot about automobiles, but she thought it might be a Rolls Royce. He greeted her, smiled at the dogs, and said, “No need for the leashes while you’re on the property. Unless you prefer.”
“If you are quite certain,” Sami said. “I am grateful for your hospitality and would experience mortification if one of them should cause damage.”
Kyle gave her a quizzical look.
Sami blushed. “I perceive that you are thinking that I speak in an overly roundabout manner.”
“No judging here,” he said.
“Er, well, thank you,” Sami said, wondering why no one other than Flynn had ever remarked on her choice of language and sentence structure. Oh, sure, sometimes Vonnie and Toya teased her about taking the marbles out of her mouth. The guys she dated had never once made a comment.
But then, they didn’t ask her out again.
Kyle pointed to the woods Sami had been staring out from her balcony. “There’s a path through the woods. The fence surrounds the property, so you don’t have to worry about the dogs getting out.”
Sami smiled at him and unclipped the leashes. “Thank you again,” she said and headed to the woods. Exercise and fresh air would do them all good.
Entering the forested area, Sami took a deep breath, savoring the freshness of the soil and spring green, along with the tang of the conifers. Her dogs sniffed at the leaf-strewn path and snuffled happily along. Sami tried to enjoy the moment, but the information in the journal crowded into her mind.
It was none of her business. Her mother and her father lived their own lives. No matter the reference to the unknown Philippe, Nathalie had married Emile. They’d been together over thirty years.
Ruby ran ahead, barking at a squirrel. The other two dogs joined in. Sami picked up her pace. Another squirrel shot across the path and Ruby charged in pursuit. The squirrel dashed up a tree and sat on the lowest branch, chattering in a voice that mocked the short-legged Corgi. Sami called Ruby and they moved on, farther into the woods.
After another hundred yards or so, the trees opened into a small meadow. Sami spotted a bench along the edge of the trees and sat down, leaving the dogs to romp. They would be spoiled by their stay at the estate.
Sami sighed, wondering again if she had made a wrong move in accepting Flynn’s arrangement. But it had been so tempting, especially after her other options hadn’t produced a place to live for the summer.
And this way she might see Flynn once or twice more.
Sami leaned her head back and let the spring sunshine warm her face. Did it matter whether she saw Flynn again?
He was good company.
He was a flirt.
He made her feel, oh, special.
“Forget about it,” Sami said out loud. “He’s an expert in making any woman feel special.”
What had Nathalie written in her long ago journal? But I felt my heart alive in a way I have never known.
What Sami wouldn’t give to feel that way about a man, but not just any man. The man she would marry, the man who would be the father of her children.
Sami bolted upright.
She did need to read the rest of the journal.
Emile had pledged not to have children, presumably due to some inheritable, genetic circumstance that had something to do with his father dying young.
Sami shook her head.
She must have cried out, because Shelby dashed over to her side and licked her hand.
Sami stroked her head and closed her eyes briefly.
If Emile had a genetic reason not to have children, why had he and her mother proceeded with the pregnancy? They were both doctors. People of science. They could have ended the pregnancy for medical reasons. After pledging not to procreate, as her mother had termed it, they had given birth to Sami. Sami thought she knew her scientific parents reasonably well.
But perhaps she didn’t know them at all.
She thought of the reference to Philippe.
Was it possible…?
No—surely not.
Sami took a deep breath,
Perhaps Emile was not her biological father.
Oh, don’t be ridiculous, she said to herself. Of course he was her father. But if so, and knowing how much she wanted children of her own, why had he not informed her there might be some condition she could be a carrier of and pass on to children? Surely he would have told her so. The only reason she could think of was that there was absolutely no danger of her having inherited any traits from Emile.
Because possibly, just possibly, some other man was her biological father.
Sami dropped her head into her hands. After a long moment, she rose from the bench, called the dogs to heel and headed back through the woods.
She needed to read the rest of the journal.
But she did everything else instead of opening its pages. She visited Toya and went shopping with Katarina. Before she knew it, Friday night was knocking on the doorstep and it was time to dress to meet Vonnie and Chase Carpenter, the man Vonnie described as her dream date. She had made sure to look him up and provide herself with a crash course in his specialty of pediatric ophthalmology. Standing in the middle of the large walk-in closet, Sami studied both new dresses with matching linen jackets, worrying her lip with her little finger. On the hangers they looked matronly. Why hadn’t she listened when Katarina attempted to veto her choice?
With a sigh of frustration, Sami slipped the aqua print off the hanger and over her head. The matching solid jacket boxed her breasts in a bit and took the eye off the V of the dress’s neckline. She wriggled her feet into a pair of espadrilles, grabbed her purse and keys and rushed to her car.
She should be excited to see Vonnie rather than fussing at herself for her inability to dress with a personal sense of style. Sami slid behind the wheel of her Honda and headed down the long drive to the gates of the estate. She waited while they opened in their silent glide. The only sound was the voice of her mother in her head, criticizing her wardrobe, criticizing her profession, criticizing her inability to say no to a rescue dog when a purebred made so much better sense.
She switched on music from her phone to drown the noise in her head and joined the cars heading into downtown Nashville. They were meeting at a new bar near Broadway and West End. Sami found it and left her car with the valet, a move that would prevent the unknown man from offering to walk her to her car. After she tipped the valet, Sami straightened her jacket and said a silent appeal to the goddess of blind dates.
Please. Please. Please do not let this be a bust. Please let Vonnie, who had known her practically all her life, have made a good choice.
Sami reached the door just as one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen walked up. He smiled and opened the door.
“After you,” he said.
Even his voice was gorgeous. Deep, suave, it matched his elegant dark looks perfectly. He wore an exquisitely tailored dark navy suit, with an open neck dress shirt. Sami stood there, gawking like a tourist at Ryman Auditorium. She could explain to him that ‘ladies first’ was an archaic and sexist gesture, but for once, she didn’t feel at all like delivering a lecture.
“Please,” he added, a hint of a twinkle in his eye.
Sami flushed slightly, nodded and walked into the bar, where the space was standing room only. A guitar and piano duo played on a small raised area, but the level of voices all talking at once pretty much drowned out the music.
“I understand this is the new hot spot,” the man said, leaning over and speaking close to her head.
Sami nodded.
“What are you drinking?” he said.
“Oh,” Sami said, trailing off. What was the protocol? Did she let him buy her a drink while she looked for Vonnie—and for the guy she was meeting? “I’m meeting a friend,” she said.
He shrugged and made his way toward the bar.
Well, she’d definitely not made the most of that opportunity. What had Flynn said? She didn’t recognize when a man was attempting to get her attention? Or words to that effect. But it would have been inappropriate for her to accept a drink from one man when there to meet another.
“Sami!”
Sami turned around at the sound of Vonnie’s voice. Her friend embraced her. Sami hugged her back.
“Let me look at you,” Vonnie said, cocking her head to one side. “You look fab. I like what you’ve done with your hair.”
“It is exactly the same as the last time you saw me,” Sami said. “But thank you. And as always, you look amazing.” And she did. Vonnie was tall and slender and blessed with the athletic grace of a ballerina.
Vonnie shook her head. “I hope I make it through this remodel nightmare. Did you just get here?”
Sami nodded. “Is Dr. Carpenter still coming?”
“Of course. Now don’t get wigged out. Chase is dying to meet you.”
Sami leaned closer to her friend so she didn’t have to shout to be heard. “The most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen walked in the same time I did. So if Chase doesn’t show up, maybe you can help me out with him.”
“Honey, go for both of them. Play the field while you can.”
“You and Michael are still okay, aren’t you?”
Vonnie laughed. “Of course. It’s just sometimes all the responsibility and routine gets a bit old. And then add on remodeling on top of a two-year-old.”
Sami nibbled at her bottom lip. She didn’t like to think of Vonnie’s life as anything other than perfect.
Vonnie caught her arm. “I think I just spotted your Mr. Gorgeous. And is he hot!”
Sami looked around. The man who’d offered to buy her a drink was gazing into the eyes of a stunning redhead. She had her hand on his forearm and they were lost to any reality other than the existence of one another. Sami sighed. “Oh, well, he’s probably a playboy.”
Vonnie sighed, too. “Yummy. Who cares?”
“The last man I want to go out with is a playboy.” Sami heard the vehemence in her voice.
“Ooh,” Vonnie said. “The bad boys fall hard when they finally fall. Remember Toya’s husband before Toya?”
Sami nodded. None of them had wanted their friend to date the man she’d ended up marrying. The practiced flirt had turned out to be the most wonderful and devoted husband, and with Toya ordered to bed for the rest of her pregnancy, he was proving himself a saint.
They were working their way toward the bar when a waitress in a sleek black mini-dress stopped to take their order. Sami opted for white wine, knowing she’d have only one drink. She preferred to buy her own before meeting the mystery man. Vonnie asked for club soda. She must have seen Sami looking a question at her and shook her head.
“No, thank goodness,” Vonnie said. “I’m not pregnant. But I am on call.”
“Don’t you want another child?”
“One is a good number,” Vonnie said. “It worked for you and me.”
“I was always lonely,” Sami said, surprising herself. Then the image of her mother’s journal flashed in her mind. She really had to finish reading it. What if there was a reason she should not have children? Wasn’t it the right thing to do to face that fact?
“Hey, don’t look so sad,” Vonnie said. “Here comes Chase.”
The second most gorgeous man Sami had ever seen was making his way through the crowd. Vonnie waved at him and he flashed a smile.
“Oh, my goodness,” Sami murmured. Blond hair in a neat crew cut, clean-shaven, broad shoulders. He made the Polo shirt and khakis he wore look like he could do justice to them on a Paris runway. He made his way through the throng with ease, a smile here, a smile there, and then he was greeting Vonnie with a kiss on the cheek. He turned brilliant blue eyes to Sami and smiling, he shook his head.
“Hello, Sami,” he said. “Vonnie did not do you justice.”
“Why thank you, I think,” Sami said.
The waitress delivered their drinks. Vonnie had cash ready. “Chase?”
“Club soda,” he said. “With lime.”
“Are you on call also?” Sami said, feeling a bit self-conscious standing there holding a wine glass.
He nodded. “Fact of life. Vonnie tells me your parents are doctors, so I suppose it goes without saying that you understand the demands and rigors of the profession.”
Sami nodded. “Most definitely,” she said. “It’s one of the reasons my parents shipped me off to boarding school.”
Vonnie gave her a look Sami interpreted as a warning not to continue on that topic lest she chase away Chase.
“You attended boarding school? What a coincidence. I was at Choate.”
Sami nodded and sipped her wine. She felt wooden, as if she had to force a conversation. Maybe it was the volume of everyone talking and laughing over the background music. It was a feeling she knew only too well. Any moment now she would start lecturing on a topic, a desperate measure to hide she had no idea how to make small talk or how to attract this serious hunk to ask her out.
“Public school brat here,” Vonnie said. “What do you two think of the Commodores’ chances in the College World Series?”
Sami eyed her friend, as did Chase. Then she looked at Chase and found him studying her. She shrugged. “Isn’t the World Series in the fall?”
Chase’s club soda arrived. After he paid for it, he said, “I believe Vonnie is referring to Vanderbilt’s baseball team. But baseball is not my sport.”
“Oh,” Sami said. “What is?”
“Sailing and polo,” Chase said.
“We’ve gone on his boat several times,” Vonnie said. “It’s fabulous. And so relaxing out on the water.”
“I enjoy swimming,” Sami said. Sailing and polo. Choate. A doctor. A gorgeous blond doctor. If Sami managed to make it past the first and second date hurdle, Nathalie and Emile would want to adopt this man.
“When’s the first pool party at your parents’ house?” Vonnie said.
Sami shook her head. She’d yet to share with Vonnie what had happened. “There have been a few changes,” Sami said.
Chase reached into a pocket of his slacks and drew out his phone. “Duty calls,” he said, sounding more eager than disappointed. “I’m needed at the hospital.” He drained his glass. “Sami, please tell me you’ll let me make this interruption up to you. Dinner tomorrow night?”
“Oh, well, why, that would be…”
“Presumptuous of me, I realize,” he said. “Pick you up at seven?” He put his phone away, leaned over and brushed a kiss across her cheek, then did the same to Vonnie. “Please give her my number.”
He turned and disappeared through the crowd.
“He liked you,” Vonnie said. “Really liked you.”
“I don’t know,” Sami said. “He’s handsome. And quite polished.”
“And perfectly eligible,” Vonnie said. “Plus he’s not a playboy.” She wrinkled her nose. “If anything, he’s a workaholic.”
“I suppose I am, too,” Sami said.
“Blonde, beautiful workaholics,” Vonnie said. “Perfect match.”
Sami mustered a smile. Dating was such hard work. She wished dating could be as easy as driving with Flynn from New Orleans. She hadn’t once felt stymied for what to say.
But then, she wasn’t trying to date Flynn.
Maybe she did try too hard.
To be perfect.
“You’ve got that sad look again,” Vonnie said. “Let’s get out of here and go somewhere we can talk without shouting.”