Isabel froze, holding her breath, willing herself to disappear. She watched a slow smile spread across Wesley’s face, a knowing, sexy smile that made her insides flutter. Then he pushed open the door and disappeared inside, closing it firmly behind him. Only then did Isabel allow herself the luxury of breathing, but she still waited a good few minutes before she risked walking out into the open.
What she had seen only served to fuel her curiosity about this man. He gives off a vibe that tells people he doesn’t want to be bothered, but that only piques her interest more. It’s purely a professional interest, she tells herself. It’s what any self-respecting businessperson would feel in her place.
Isabel shakes her head, realizing she’s daydreaming about the man again, a habit that was beginning to form with unsettling ease. Focus, Bishop, focus. She turns her attention back to the bills and accounting books in front of her. What a mess, she thinks to herself. She was supposed to be a doctor, not an accountant or a landlady. This wasn’t what she’d planned and every day she feels like she is more and more in over her head. Every day she had expected to feel a little more comfortable with the responsibility weighing down on her, but that ease hasn’t come. Things are just as hard today as they had been the first time she’d sat down in her mother’s chair and tried to make sense of what the hell she was doing.
Her cell starts buzzing angrily on her table and she moves to silence it but stops herself, a smile lighting up her face as she reads the caller ID.
“About time! I was about to send out a search party!” Jamie’s voice is loud in her ear and, from the background traffic noise, Isabel imagines her walking down a busy New York street, looking fabulous as always.
“I know. We keep missing each other. We work on slightly different schedules, I guess, Little Miss Fashionista.” Isabel smiles into her cell, knowing Jamie loves the moniker.
“So how’re things going?” Jamie has never been one for small talk; she tends to just cut to the chase, which makes Isabel wonder how she deals with the prickly members of her notoriously shallow industry.
“Fine.” Isabel manages to say the word as brightly as she can, but Jamie has known her for too long to be fobbed off with a ‘fine.’
“Like hell!” Jamie doesn’t bother to hide her disbelief in her snort. Isabel hears a horn blaring in the background so loud she has to hold the phone away from her ear. “Hey, pal, watch where you’re going!”
“Do me a favor, Jamie. Don’t get run over. I don’t want to go to two funerals this year. I wouldn’t have the first clue what to wear to yours without you there to advise me!” Isabel does what she always has; she covers her concern for her best friend with humor. Jamie has always been the wild one, the one who lived large. She stayed out late, partied hard, and had relationships with wholly inappropriate men. Isabel is the sensible one, the one who had worried about her friend’s safety, even more than Jamie’s own mother.
“Good point. God only knows what hideous outfit you’d end up in!” Jamie relaxes easily into their banter. It’s her way of telling Isabel not to worry, that she’ll take care of herself. “So, tell me what’s got you sounding so down in the dumps, my Amazonian friend?”
Isabel’s first instinct is to avoid talking about what’s been occupying her mind for the better part of a week, but Jamie is probably the only person she can really talk to about it, the only person who won’t judge her. She huffs out a sigh, prepared to tell all, but Jamie gets there before she does.
“Isabel Eliza Bishop!” Jamie’s voice is shrill in her ear. “Is this about a guy?” Her tone is wheedling, knowing. “Please don’t tell me Mike’s asked you to marry him!” Her unabashed horror at the possibility makes Isabel laugh out loud.
“Mike?” She feels a moment of remorse as she realizes she’s been dodging his calls for the past few days and she’s barely thought of him, despite the intimacy they had shared before she left Dallas. “I don’t think one night together is enough to prompt speculations of marriage, Jamie!”
“Well thank Christ for that!” Jamie has never made it a secret that she thinks Mike is about as interesting as a rainy day. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s nice and all that but he’s not for you, Issy.” Her tone tells Isabel Jamie has made her mind up about that fact and no amount of time would persuade her otherwise. “So who’s the guy? Don’t keep me in suspense. You know I hate that!”
Isabel shakes her head at her friend’s zeal. Jamie is like a dog with a bone; if she wants to find out something, she won’t rest until she has. Isabel knows this from experience. “Not a guy, a tenant.” Her voice is prim but Jamie can see right through her.
Jamie lets out a low whistle. “Breaking the rules, Issy. That’s not like you!” Her voice is only mock-stern. “He must be pretty cute, then!”
“Jamie, stop!” Isabel feels her cheeks heat at her friend’s words. What is it about the mere mention of Wesley and her blushing? It is as if the two are inextricably linked now. He doesn’t even have to be in the same room as her anymore, giving her that knowing smile for her to get all hot and bothered.
“Don’t get all shy on me, Issy. Spill.” Jamie’s voice is serious, not brooking any kind of argument. “What’s he like?”
Isabel casts around for a way to describe Wesley and finds that all words seem to come up short. “He’s ummm…tall.”
She can almost hear Jamie roll her eyes at the other end of the line. “Tall? Tall? You’re going to have to do better than that! What does he do? What does he like? What does he do for work?” Jamie fires off the questions rapidly like she’s ticking off a checklist.
Isabel swallows hard. “Umm, I don’t really know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? Which part?” Jamie’s voice is confused.
You have no idea, Isabel thinks to herself. “Pretty much any of it.” Isabel looks up at the ceiling, knowing how ridiculous this all sounds.
“Spill it, Issy.” Jamie’s tone brooks no argument.
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Jamie. I don’t really know anything about him other than he’s called Wesley, used to be in the Marines, drives a motorcycle, is about as talkative as a brick wall, and he’s sexy as all hell.” Isabel sighs as she says the words out loud that she’s only entertained in her head.
Jamie is silent for a moment. “Well that’s a good start.” Her voice is serious and Isabel can’t help but laugh at her friend’s priorities. “And I’m guessing he makes you feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest and you get all hot and cold at the same time?”
Isabel pauses, surprised at how accurate her friend’s description is. But then she shouldn’t be, Jamie has a habit of falling in lust with men. There was only one man she’d loved and that hadn’t ended well.
“That about sums it up.” Isabel sighs, accepting the fact is easier than trying to run away from it. No matter how hard she tries, she is irresistibly attracted to this man she knows nothing about. It’s a dangerous state of affairs.
“And what about the background check? Didn’t that come up with anything?” Isabel can almost hear the cogs turning in Jamie’s mind over the phone.
“Nada, nothing. The guy is about as mysterious as it gets.” Isabel doesn’t add that it almost makes him that much more exciting. “And I’m not sure if he might be just a little…dangerous.”
“Then you know what you have to do.” It’s not a question.
“Ask him?” Isabel shakes her head. “He’s not exactly the chatty, I’m-going-to-spill-my-guts type.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that. And no. Asking him isn’t going to get you anywhere. You tried it that way. Now you have to try a different tactic. You have to snoop.” Jamie says the words as if it is self-evident there are no other options at all.
“I’m assuming you don’t mean I have to dress up like a white dog and make friends with a kid called Charlie Brown.” Isabel’s tone is flat, not even wanting to entertain the idea of what Jamie is suggesting.
“Ha ha. Did I ever tell you that you were wasting your talents at med school? You should go to Clown College.” Jamie’s eye roll is loud enough to be transmitted all the way to Chicago. “You’ve tried to do it the right way, asking him questions and then doing the background check. The guy hasn’t exactly left you with a whole lot of choices. It’s not just about you wanting to find out what this guy’s deal is for your own libidinous reasons. It’s about the safety of your business! If this guy is a serial killer and he’s hiding bodies in his bedroom wardrobe then you want to know about it!” Jamie’s voice is eminently reasonable.
Isabel considers her friend’s argument, knowing she’s right but also knowing that what she’s suggesting is more than a little immoral. “I can’t invade his privacy like that, Jamie. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Issy, the boarding house isn’t exactly about to put you at the top of the Forbes list, right?” Jamie doesn’t wait for her friend to answer because there’s no need. They both already know the truth. “You can’t afford someone to mess up the leases you have with tenants or someone to do something that would affect your reputation.”
Isabel nods in agreement, knowing Jamie is speaking the truth, no matter how harsh it may be. She sits in silence, debating between giving up her morals or jeopardizing the future of the boarding house, the only thing she really has left of her mother. It’s a no brainer.
Jamie stays on the line, letting Isabel have her quiet musings until she asks the question that she’s been holding in. “So, is he a good kisser?”
“Jamie, if I don’t know anything about the guy, why would you think I would know that?” Isabel laughs down the phone.
“Okay, well when you find out, make sure to let me know.” Jamie has never been one to shy away from details.
“Well, if I find that out, I’ll keep you in the loop.” Isabel feels her cheeks heat at the thought of kissing that luscious mouth of him.
“When, Isabel. When not if.” Jamie’s certainty is obvious. “Now go and snoop, before he comes back and remember -,”
“I know, I know; ‘report back’!” Isabel finishes her friend’s sentence for her.
“Exactly!” Jamie sounds pleased with herself, or at least even more so than usual. Her tone changes abruptly. “I miss you, Issy.”
Isabel clutches the cell in her hand tightly. “I miss you too, honey.”
“You know that if you need me, I’ll get on a plane faster than you can say ‘hot biker dude.’” Jamie is serious.
Isabel knows she means it because she would do exactly the same thing for her best friend. In fact, she had. When Jamie’s heart had been broken by the only guy she’d ever loved, Isabel had jumped on a plane from Dallas at a moment’s notice and spent the weekend with her friend, commiserating, drinking cocktails, and telling her she was well rid of him and he didn’t deserve her, not by a country mile.
“I know, Jamie. But I’m fine, really I am.” Isabel almost has to force the words out but she’s impressed that she manages to come off as breezy. The truth is she misses her friend like crazy and would love nothing more than to have her here. But Isabel also knows that if she doesn’t make her life work now, on her own, then she will just spend the next few years relying on other people to make it better. She has to get through this on her own, no matter how hard it may be.
“All right, enough of this crap before I ruin my makeup.” Jamie’s signature sense of humor is back in full force. “I’ve got to go, honey. I’ll call you tomorrow.” With that, Jamie hangs up, no goodbye no nothing. It’s her signature move. She’d always told Isabel she hates goodbyes, so she refuses to say the word.
Isabel sits for a few moments longer, trying to figure out another way to get the peace of mind that Wesley isn’t about to ruin her business some other way that doesn’t involve snooping around like a suspicious mother. It doesn’t take her long to realize that there really aren’t a whole heap of options open to her and, besides, her curiosity about the gorgeous biker is proving too strong to resist. She’s already made up her mind.