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A Total Mismatch by Madelaine Grant (28)


Chapter 28

Sam accomplished very little in her studio Monday afternoon. She was preoccupied with the unsettling emotions brought on by Jordan’s proposal to buy two brownstones and live next door to each other. Finally giving up on painting, she decided to take a long walk to clear her mind. She’d also shop to fill her almost empty pantry.

By the time she returned home, it was after six, much too late to start anything major.

Still brooding about her relationship with Jordan, she fixed an easy dinner of salad, spaghetti, and tomato sauce. She hadn’t read the Sunday papers, and she sprawled on the sofa to peruse them. Her two cats took the opportunity to climb all over her, much to her delight.

It was almost nine at night when she decided a warm bath would settle her mind. She’d go to bed early and catch up on sleep. The weekend had been unusually busy, and she was bone tired. Just as she was getting into bed, the phone rang. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone; however, curious as usual, she padded to the kitchen to see who was calling.

It was Jordan. With a resigned sigh, she picked up the phone.

“Sam, did I catch you at a bad moment?”

She’d only said ‘hello,’ but he must have sensed her mood. “No, I’m just tired. It was a hectic weekend and lots of things happened.”

“You’re right. I won’t keep you. Just wanted to hear your voice. Are you just tired, or are you upset about something?”

He was too perceptive. Should she be honest? “I was thinking about your proposal to live next door to each other. I’m not sure how it would work.”

“Ah, so that’s the issue.” He was silent a few moments as he considered his options. It was too late to pay her a visit and talk things through. “What are you doing tomorrow after work?”

“Nothing much. Why do you ask?”

“What time do you get home?”

“About six. Why?”

“I’ll get to your place around six-thirty. Don’t bother to cook. I’ll bring pizza and salad. We can discuss things then.”

What could she say? That she didn’t want things to change? That she was frightened about the dire possibilities she’d glimpsed? With his stubborn nature, he’d be sure to override all her objections. Still, she couldn’t sideline the problem. “Okay, I guess.”

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic. I’d say you’re worrying unnecessarily, but I won’t know for sure until we talk face to face. So let’s table our discussion. By the way, what kinds of toppings do you like on pizza?”

“Oh, anything will do. I’m not particular. I do like eggplant and veggies, though.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow. And get a good night’s sleep. Don’t fret about anything. It will all work out. Trust me.”

If only she could.

~ ~ ~

Peter was busy in his office when Sam walked into the gallery on Tuesday. He came out to greet her.

“Well, how’s the belly dance star? That was quite an audience you had on the weekend.” He was grinning from ear to ear.

“A bit worn out. I don’t think I could make it a full-time occupation,” she confessed. She put her bag in a drawer and sat down at her desk.

“I don’t blame you. The Berdoga guys looked pleased. There was quite a crowd at their booth.”

“They sent a huge bouquet of flowers to my house with a really nice note. But to be honest, I wouldn’t mind a break. I’ve hardly done any painting in the last few weeks.” She shook her head in disgust.

“Never mind. You’re making more money with the dancing than you could selling your paintings. How’s the renovation coming? Have you phoned Doug yet?”

She’d completely forgotten the whole issue. “No. I’ll give him a call soon.”

“Remember, I’ll sit in on any discussions with Doug, if you need me.”

“Thanks, Peter. Let me see what happens.” This wasn’t at the top of her priorities.

Later in the morning, Uncle Jim phoned. “Hi Sam. What are you doing for lunch tomorrow? We’d like to come down to your gallery. The boys are busy doing things on their own, but Faith and I would love to see you.”

Cheered immediately by the sound of his voice, she replied, “That would be great. If you could make it after the lunch hour, around two, that would be best.”

“Sure thing. See you then. By the way, we’re also looking forward to getting together Friday night. Jordan phoned us, as you know.”

“Yes, he said you’d be free then. He wants me to meet his sisters, and to be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to it. His older sister Lori is best friends with Andrea. That presents some problems.”

“I should think so. But you never know about people. It’s best to keep an open mind. Anyway, your aunt and I can give a different view of your situation with your sister. That should balance things out.”

“I hope so.” But she was going to be realistic about Jordan’s sisters. She didn’t expect them to be any different than Andrea or Karen. They’d probably be polite, with their brother present, but that was all.

Sam was exhausted by the time the day ended and she made it home. It wasn’t a physical tiredness as much as a psychological one. Jordan would be arriving soon, and she wanted to feel energetic enough to stand her ground. Changing out of her daytime clothes, she tugged on denim shorts and a white tee shirt. She should try to straighten up her kitchen, she thought, glancing around at the crowded table. With a weary sigh, she began sorting things and sticking them in cabinets and drawers. Then she took a sponge and went over all the surfaces. She placed the flowers in the center of the table and stood back to admire them. Not bad, she conceded, feeling oddly triumphant. With a little effort, she could keep things in order.

The bell rang promptly at six-thirty. Jordan stood on the other side of the door bearing a large pizza box and a paper bag. He looked good in khaki shorts and a black tee shirt.

“Hi babe.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Hope you’re hungry. I’ve got a super pizza for us.”

She perked up just being in his presence. “Here, let me take something.”

“Nah, I can manage.” He walked into the kitchen and looked around. “You’ve made room for our dinner.” He placed the pizza and large paper sack on the table.

She took out plates and silverware. “I straightened a little,” she admitted. “It wasn’t that difficult. I should do it more often.”

Now that his hands were free, he drew her into his arms. “I’m not complaining,” he said quietly. He stroked her back slowly, trying to reassure her. It was ironic, he thought, the one woman he wanted to live with was having reservations. He’d never made this proposal to anyone before. “Let’s eat, and then we’ll talk.”

He served her one large slice and a helping of salad while keeping up a pleasant conversation. “I added shrimp and mushrooms to the eggplant. Hope you like it.”

“It’s marvelous.” Her appetite was returning. Maybe she was blowing everything out of proportion. Still, it made good sense to air her fears and gauge his reaction.

They moved into the living room after dinner. Sam took her usual place at one end of the sofa. Jordan sat in the center, placing a hand on her thigh as if to anchor her.

“Okay, let’s hear it,” he said. “What’s worrying you about living with me? For your information, it’s the first time I’ve proposed this to any woman. I know you’re not interested in marriage. You’ve made that plain. Not that I’m enamored of the marital state either.”

“Thank God for that,” she murmured. At least they were on the same page where marriage was concerned. “I was thinking about all the pleasant things that living close to you could bring, like dinners together and planning trips. Suddenly this image flashed through my mind. What if we quarreled and broke up? Would you bring your next girlfriend to the same bedroom we’d shared? I could almost see you in bed with this . . . this bimbo-looking blonde. I couldn’t avoid seeing the two of you since I’d be living right next door. That wouldn’t work for me–it really wouldn’t.” Sam shuddered at the mere thought.

Jordan’s expression was incredulous. “You can’t be serious. Do you really think me capable of such insensitivity? That’s a horrible scenario.” He fell silent as the full impact of her words sank in. His lawyer’s mind went to work figuring out the best tactic to demolish her faulty logic. It was obvious she had trouble trusting people. Her difficult relations with her parents and sisters must be the cause. The failed marriage when she was so young didn’t help the situation.

“I know,” she murmured, leaning her head back against the sofa. “Either I have a weird imagination or an issue with trust. Or maybe both. I feel safe when I’m in control of my surroundings. I don’t know if I could share a place with you or with anyone for that matter.”

At least she was honest. An idea was beginning to take shape in his mind. He’d worked out prenuptial agreements for many couples in the past. Why not one for them? It would have to be written so that she’d come out way ahead should they ever break up. “Listen, Sam, I know this sounds strange, but bear with me.”

She sat up straight and gave him her full attention. “What’s strange?”

Jordan took a deep breath. He had the distinct feeling his future life with her was on the line. “I’d like to suggest a pre-living together agreement. Here’s how it would work. When we buy the two brownstones, we’ll be equal partners. If you want out, I’ll buy your share at the market value. If I want out for any reason, such as this supposed bleached-blonde you have me dating, you’ll get my property free and clear. I can have the agreement drawn up and we can get someone like your uncle or even Peter to look it over before we sign. You trust those men to look out for your interests. I know that.” He paused, so she could digest his words.

She frowned as she tried to make sense of his suggestion. “Aren’t you putting yourself in a very vulnerable position? I mean, you stand to lose quite a bit of money.”

“I’m willing to gamble we’ll make a go of it. How about you?”

Sam was silent for several long moments as she stared at him. His eyes were dark and serious. She noted the taut line of his jaw and the firm set of his mouth. Her answer meant a great deal to him. She knew that instinctively, and tenderness flooded her heart. “Oh, Jordan,” she whispered, leaning close. “I wish I wasn’t so fearful. I want to believe you. I love being with you.” Unable to stop herself, her hands moved to encircle his neck.

He pulled her close for a long, soulful kiss. “Then let’s do it,” he said. “It’s what we both want.”

Later that evening, Jordan drove home in a mellow mood. He was comfortable with the agreement he’d proposed. With his long dating experience, he knew in his gut that Sam was not mercenary. Her fears were groundless, but now that he understood her family background, he could empathize with her state of mind. Due to years of investing with his friend, Mike, in various properties, he’d built a sizable nest egg. If he did lose the brownstone to Sam, which he had no intention of doing, it wouldn’t put much of a dent in his holdings. He’d finally found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and for that he was grateful.

The phone rang as he entered the apartment. He was tempted to let it ring but, at the last moment, picked it up. Lori was on the other end.

“You’re a difficult person to reach,” she stated. “Don’t you have your cell with you?”

He’d turned it off so he wouldn’t be disturbed during his time with Sam. “What’s up, Lori? Is there an emergency?” He’d be damned if he had to be available to his sisters every moment of his life.

“No emergency. I just heard from Andrea that you aren’t attending her wedding. I was shocked, as you can imagine.”

He probably should have mentioned it when he’d invited her to Friday’s dinner. “I never wanted to attend that affair from the beginning. I’d much rather spend the holiday weekend on my boat. Ben understands and is going to get Lara’s new boyfriend to take my place. It will work better all around.”

“Well, you certainly waited until the last moment to make that decision. Andrea was upset, believe me,” she snapped.

Jordan tried to keep a grip on his temper. Lori knew just how to push his buttons. “I can’t live my life to please Andrea or my sisters. Hope you understand that. I try to keep out of your personal affairs and I expect you to do likewise. I’m looking forward to our get-together Friday.” He had nothing more to add to the conversation and waited for her to end this annoying discussion.

“All I can say to you, Jordan, is that you’ve become a changed person since taking up with this belly dancer. And it isn’t for the better.” She hung up the phone with a bang.

Giving vent to several choice oaths, Jordan glared at the phone. He should never have picked it up. If this was the way Friday night was going to turn out, he’d just as soon cancel the whole thing. While he stewed about the matter, he scooped several flavors of ice cream into a bowl, added hot fudge and whipped cream, and turned on the news. The familiar ritual calmed him as he concentrated on the latest shenanigans in Congress and stock market information. By the time he retired for the night, he’d put Lori’s remarks on the back burner where they belonged.

~ ~ ~

The week passed quickly for Sam. Uncle Jim and Aunt Faith visited the gallery on Wednesday. They met Peter and had an enjoyable conversation with him about the current direction of the art scene. The lunch at Melina’s was a success as well. By the time they left, Sam was in an ebullient mood.

“Quite a contrast from your folks,” Peter commented.

“They’re the most supportive relatives I have. I only wish we lived closer to each other. Jordan and I are going to spend a weekend with them over the summer.”

“I’d cultivate your relationships with those kinds of people. Let the others go, Sam. You’ve been hitting your head against a stone wall for years. I’m afraid your parents and sisters will never change.”

She knew he was right, but somewhere down deep, it still hurt.

On Friday morning Sam dressed with special care, choosing a lavender sleeveless sheath. The material had tiny sparkly beads embedded in it. The long hair piece gave her an extra boost of confidence. Jordan was picking her up at the gallery at five. They’d meet the others at the Chinese restaurant he’d selected in mid-Manhattan. Peter suggested she come in at noon instead of ten that day.

“You’ll be too tired to enjoy the evening otherwise,” he insisted.

“You are one sweet man. I’ll make up the time.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve given the gallery your all for the last six years. You deserve a few hours off.”

Fortunately, the gallery was fairly quiet during the afternoon after a busy lunch hour crowd. Sam had time to catch up on paperwork and make phone calls in preparation for the next exhibition of paintings. She freshened up a few minutes before Jordan was due to arrive. Staring at herself in the bathroom mirror, she tried to imagine how the evening would go. The more she thought about it, the more worried she became.

“This is ridiculous,” she fumed, noting the frown on her face. Pasting a smile on, she hurried out. Her relationship with Jordan had nothing to do with the evening ahead. If she could concentrate on that fact, she’d be able to relax and enjoy herself.