Chapter 24
“You’re spoiling me,” Sam declared, lounging back against the pillows on Jordan’s bed. It was after ten on Sunday morning on the Sea Witch.
“I like to spoil you.” Jordan placed a breakfast tray between them and slipped back under the covers. “There’s only room for one person in the galley, and, as you can see, I didn’t do much cooking.”
The tray held two glasses of orange juice, assorted warm muffins, a carton of whipped cream cheese, and a small jar of strawberry jam. “I did boil water for your peppermint tea,” he admitted. “That’s the extent of my cooking skills.”
“It was sweet of you to remember.” She was touched by his attention. No one ever offered her breakfast in bed unless she was ill. Leaning over, she gave him a light kiss. “Don’t underestimate your culinary prowess. You can put together a great sundae.”
“Unfortunately, the freezer on this boat is too small for cartons of ice cream. We’ll have to indulge later on the shore.” He took a long swallow of orange juice and settled back. “I’m half-tempted to spend the next few hours relaxing here, but I did want to sail up the coast. I thought Mystic would be a good destination. If we don’t get that far, there are other small towns we could explore.”
Sam didn’t care one way or the other. She was content to be with him, doing whatever he wanted. There were no outside interruptions to worry about, which was a huge plus. “Whatever you decide is fine with me.” She sipped her orange juice and selected a blueberry muffin. Slicing it in half, she spread cream cheese and jam onto it.
“This is delicious.”
“You’re delicious. I only wish we had a week away instead of two nights. How early do you have to be back on Monday?”
She remembered her hair salon appointment. “I should be home by noon. I’m getting my hair done at three.”
“Women and their hair. Growing up with three sisters gave me quite an education on that subject. I can’t tell you how many times they changed hair styles and colors. One day they’d try a strawberry-blonde shade, and the next week they’d be a brunette.” He munched on a corn muffin liberally covered with cheese and jam.
“Maybe having sisters was a plus,” Sam ventured. “It gave you an inside view of women and helped you become more sensitive to their needs.” Jordan definitely knew the way to a woman’s heart.
“Do you really think so? I’ve never thought of it that way. My sisters were older–six, eight, and ten when I was born. I felt like I had three little mothers besides my actual one.” He smiled ruefully.
“At least they paid attention to you.” She wouldn’t have minded being mothered by her sisters.
“Well, I was a novelty. After three girls, my parents had a son. So I did get lots of attention and was probably spoiled too.” When she didn’t respond, he said, “Do you think I’m spoiled?”
It was a leading question–one she didn’t care to answer. “I don’t know you well enough to comment.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “You’re afraid of being honest. Admit it.”
Stung by his laugh, she said, “Well, if you really want to know, you can be quite arrogant at times.”
“That’s better,” he murmured with a tender smile. “I can take criticism, so don’t hesitate to speak up.”
This was unusual–a man who actually wanted feedback. But was he just saying so? Sam couldn’t be sure. She concentrated on eating her muffin and sipping tea.
They ate breakfast in companionable silence. “I can tell you’re mulling over my last words,” he said. “You’re wondering if I really am tough enough to take constructive criticism. Actually, it would depend on the person making them. If I valued that person’s opinion, I’d be apt to listen carefully. I think we all want to improve ourselves and gain objectivity. What do you think?”
She cast a wary glance in his direction. Was this a prologue to a frank discussion of what Jordan found wrong with her lack of housekeeping skills? Sam couldn’t be sure. “I guess so,” she finally said. “But vacations are not the time to bring up controversial subjects. Let’s stick to agreeable things.”
He could tell the issue was making her nervous. And he’d promised her a relaxing trip. “Fine with me. We’ll table it for another time.” He removed the tray and placed it on a nearby chest of drawers. Coming back to bed he said, “Let’s cuddle a few more minutes. Then we’ll dress and head out.”
~ ~ ~
They never did reach Mystic. Instead, they moored the boat in the tiny town of Stony Creek and had a late lunch at a seafood restaurant overlooking the water. Afterward, they walked about, browsing in small stores and enjoying the salty sea air.
“If it wasn’t so far from the city, I’d be looking around for a weekend place here,” Jordan said. “I love this kind of ambiance.”
“I like it too,” Sam agreed. “If I painted boats and water scenes, this would be ideal.” She breathed in the scent of fresh fish and seaweed. “You’re right though. It’s much too long a commute. I’m sure you’ll find something closer.”
“When we retire, we’ll have to remember this place,” he commented casually, taking her hand in his.
Startled by his assumption that they’d still be together years from now, she stopped and stared at him.
“Shocked you, didn’t I?” Amusement lurked in his eyes.
Then she relaxed. He was just kidding. “Not at all,” she demurred. “Who knows what the future holds?” If he could be light-hearted, so could she.
Oblivious to passersby, he swept her into his arms for a long embrace. “I’m serious, Sam,” he whispered. “Don’t know exactly why, but you fit my needs more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
She knew he meant sexual compatibility, and there she had to agree. But what about all the other elements of a lifelong partnership? And what could happen when passion disappears and reality sets in? Not wanting to spoil their time together, she didn’t voice those thoughts.
Before returning to the boat, Jordan insisted on buying them matching navy-blue hoodies with the name of the town printed on the back. “Now we look like we belong.”
“Thank you,” she said. “You’re a sweet and generous man. I’ll have to paint your portrait one of these days.”
“Only a portrait?” He sent her a glance with arched eyebrows.
“I don’t think you’d stand still long enough for a full-length figure painting. At least you could sit while I do your face.” She tilted her head to one side with a thoughtful look. “On the other hand, you do have a fabulous body–all lean and muscled. Maybe I could take some photos and work from those.” Her artist’s mind was busy speculating on just what kind of poses she’d attempt with him.
“Exactly what type of photos and poses were you thinking of?” Jordan queried with a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes.
“You’ve got a horny mind!” she exclaimed. But she couldn’t help laughing when he sent her a lascivious grin. “I think we need to cool down with some ice cream.”
“Now that’s a brilliant idea,” he rejoined.
~ ~ ~
Monday morning came much too quickly. Jordan woke Sam at eight, so they could have a leisurely breakfast before cruising back to Port Chester. “I said I’d get you home by noon,” he reminded her when she tried to sneak back under the covers.
“I know, I know,” she murmured. “This has been so delightful. I hate going back to the real world.” Then she sat up and reached for the glass of orange juice he’d brought her. “I could get used to this. Imagine sailing around the world for a year. Wouldn’t that be spectacular?” Her eyes took on a dreamy expression.
“Never mind a year. I’d settle for a whole week,” he exclaimed.
She was silent a moment. “I might just consider that. Sometimes Heidi Norris fills in for me. I can ask her if I know the dates you’re free.”
This is a positive change, Jordan thought. “See if she’s available the week of the July Fourth holiday. That’s a good time to be away from the office. If not that week, I’ll take any week you’re able to arrange.” His mind started working on all the possible places they could travel to, such as Block Island, or even Cape Cod.
She was literally playing with fire, making plans so far in advance. But what the hell, if it didn’t work out, she could always plan a trip somewhere on her own. There were several appealing places not far from the city with art centers and museums to investigate. Working at the gallery almost nonstop these last six years called for a change of pace. “I’ll contact Heidi when I get into the gallery tomorrow,” she promised him.
“Good girl. After all, it’s only seven weeks away. I’m looking forward to next weekend, even though you’ll be working part of the time for the brewery boys. Our evenings will be for us, right? Since they’ve booked a room for you at the hotel, I thought I’d join you when you’re free. Do you have any idea of the hours they need you?”
She shook her head. “I’m meeting the Berdoga guys and Max at the Blue Monkey at five-thirty on Tuesday. They’ll give me all the details. Peter said he’d sit in on the talks just for support. I could use that since it might be a little awkward with Beth and Sean still cool toward me.”
Jordan frowned. “You could have asked me if you needed help. I’m available if I have prior notice.”
This was a ticklish situation. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she said, “Your appearance there could raise a red flag for the Fullers and make things even more uncomfortable. Peter is neutral and can smooth the rough edges of this first encounter. If everything goes well, and Beth and Sean have gotten over their anger, I’ll suggest bringing you there for dinner in the near future.”
He was silent a moment as he thought the matter over. “Maybe you’re right. Although with the way they’ve treated you these past few weeks, I can’t ever see myself being close to those people. I know she’s been a friend for years, but friends are supposed to support you when there’s trouble. Do you really think you could forgive her?”
Sam sucked in a long breath. He’d raised a point that hurt to consider. “I don’t know,” she replied slowly. “Beth was like a sister to me. We phoned each other almost every day. It hasn’t been easy to give that closeness up. I’ll have to take it slow and see if we can connect again.”
He didn’t agree with her but decided to stay mum. Sam would have to make up her own mind on that situation.
~ ~ ~
“So, how was the sailing trip?” Peter asked Sam when she came into the gallery on Tuesday.
“Great,” she replied. But she didn’t go into any details. Her personal life with Jordan would remain just that–personal and private.
“Well, that was a brief reply,” he remarked. “But you look tanned and relaxed, so it must have been fun.”
Feeling a bit remorseful about her abruptness, she added, “We found a charming little town on the Connecticut coast and spent most of Sunday there. The weather was beautiful, and sailing was delightful.”
“I’m glad,” he said, turning to leave for his office.
“Before you go, I want to ask a favor,” Sam began. “I’d like to take a week off this summer if Heidi can fill in for me. What do you think?”
Turning back, Peter sent her a sly smile. “I guess Jordan’s behind this request. And, yes, of course it’s okay. You’ve put in long hours these past few years. It’s time you took a real vacation.”
“Thanks, Peter,” she replied. “You could probably use time off as well.”
“Not during the summer months,” he answered. “We’re too busy then. But don’t worry about me. I’m content here.” Then he retired to his office.
That was one hurdle out of the way. Now all she had to do was contact Heidi. Within the next hour, she’d spoken to her friend, and it was settled. The July Fourth week was fine. Breathing a sigh of relief, she phoned Jordan’s office and, since he was busy with a client, left a message with his secretary. Only then could she settle down to the day’s demands.
Jordan phoned back shortly before noon. “I have a feeling you have good news.”
“How can you tell?” She couldn’t help smiling at the sound of his voice.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you called early in the day. So what’s up?”
“Peter doesn’t mind, and Heidi’s available, so the week of July Fourth is set.”
“Sam, that’s great–just great. A whole week on the boat . . . I can’t wait. By the way, will you phone me tonight about plans for the weekend? I’m usually home by ten.”
“Okay. I’m sure my nights will be free except for the dinner with Uncle Jim and his family. I’ll probably hear from him later this week. I hope you’ll be able to join us.”
“I’m planning on it,” he said firmly. This could be the time he’d get answers to some of his questions about Sam’s background and family. At least he hoped so.
~ ~ ~
When Sam entered the Blue Monkey Tuesday evening, she was thankful Peter was at her side. She’d phoned ahead to let Beth know he’d be coming for dinner. “Hi, Beth. Good to see you,” she said to her friend. She wondered if Beth would notice her new hair color and style. When her friend made no comment, Sam knew Beth had walled herself off. Beth was the one who’d been urging her to change her hair style. Now she acted as if she didn’t even care. That hurt, and for a moment, Sam was tempted to raise the subject. But she didn’t.
“Nice seeing you, too,” Beth replied, but she didn’t smile or look particularly interested. Instead, she was carefully polite while she escorted them to a reserved table.
Sam watched her leave and felt an aching sadness deep inside. She was glad to be distracted by Max, who stood as they neared him.
“Hassan and Omar will be here shortly,” Max said, shaking hands with Peter and giving Sam a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve ordered a bottle of wine and some appetizers.”
Omar and Hassan joined them a few moments later, and the business part of the meeting began. “This looks like a big weekend for us,” Omar said to Sam and Peter. “There are at least thirty breweries that will be represented at the convention. I want our booth to stand out and, with our lovely belly dancer here”—he paused to send Sam a big smile—“we should be a popular stopping place. We’ll have the video playing of Sam dancing with both of us at the brewery and interchange it with our recent TV ad. Sam can give a demonstration of her belly dance routine at stated times. We’ve been discussing this and feel that before and after the dinner hour would be best.”
Max nodded thoughtfully. “That sounds like the right strategy.”
“What hours do you want me there?” Sam asked. The thought of sitting around for endless amounts of time was not particularly appealing.
“Well, let’s see,” Hassan said, consulting his notes. “The convention begins Friday afternoon and ends late Sunday morning. If you could be there from seven to ten Friday evening, that would work. Saturday is the most important day. We’d like you to be available from eleven in the morning to one in the afternoon. After a lunch break, if you could be there from three to seven, that would be great. It’s not necessary to attend on Sunday. How does that work for you?” He turned to Sam with an expectant look.
This wasn’t so bad. She could still have Saturday and Sunday nights free to be with Jordan. Dinner with her uncle and his family could be arranged on either night. “That sounds fine. I imagine you’ll have my music and costume available.”
“Don’t give it a thought,” Max declared. “I’ll have everything you need. Since you’ll be staying at the hotel Friday and Saturday nights, I’ll have your wig and costume delivered to your room. How’s that?”
Sam looked at Peter. “Sounds good to me. Do you have any questions?”
Peter looked thoughtful. “What about photos or videos of Sam dancing? Most people with smart phones can easily do this. I don’t think we should allow anyone to photograph or film her dancing.” He turned to Max and the Berdoga brothers.
“Hmmm, I hadn’t thought of that,” Max said. Turning to the two brothers he said, “Can we stop people from taking photos?”
“No problem,” Hassan said. “I’ll have a few of my employees in the audience to halt any photo or video taking. They’ll do it diplomatically, of course, but I think we should be able to control that aspect.”
“Good,” Peter said. He looked at Sam. “Any other questions?”
She shook her head. “I think we’ve covered all the bases.”
“Good. Let’s order dinner then,” Omar said.
~ ~ ~
Later that night, Sam phoned Jordan. He answered on the first ring.
“Well, how did it go?” he asked.
“Pretty good. Beth wasn’t particularly friendly, and I never saw Sean, but the meeting went well.” She proceeded to give him the pertinent details.
“That does give us plenty of time. I’m glad we’ll have both nights together. Since you’ll be busy Friday night, I won’t bother you. Instead, I’ll get some work done at the office and plan on being with you Saturday evening. I’m meeting my sisters for lunch that day, and after that, I’m free. Why don’t I check with you Thursday night? I’ll phone when I get home. Besides, I love talking to you before I go to bed.” His voice lowered to a husky tone.
She didn’t mind talking to him at night. It was a delicious habit–one she could get seriously addicted to.