work on that,” Andy promised, and then a thought hit her. “Okay, here’s something you can do for me—and I’d really appreciate it if you did.”
“I’m listening.”
“I want you to quietly look in on Dad,” Andy told her.
“Because?” Dorothy asked.
Andy shrugged, knowing that the request sounded a little strange—maybe she was worrying for nothing. But having Dorothy confirm that would go a long way toward making her feel better. “Just to see if he’s okay.”
Dorothy cocked her head, scrutinizing her. “Why wouldn’t he be?”
Andy shrugged again. “Something is off about Dad. He’s slowed down lately, like there’s some big rock pressing down on him, taking the zip out of his step.”
Dorothy smiled indulgently. “It’s called getting older, dear.”
“Maybe,” Andy said. But she really didn’t believe it. Granted, her father could never have been accused of being an athletic go-getter. He certainly wasn’t anywhere near as full of life as Alex and Stevi. Still, her father had always been slow but steady, like the tortoise in the fable.
“But I’d feel better if you peeked in on him,” Andy said. She gave Dorothy a plaintive look, one that had never failed to melt the housekeeper’s kind heart.
As if Dorothy could ever say no to any of them. She nodded. “Consider him peeked in on,” she said as she left reception and went in search of Andy’s father.
There were no new guests checking in and, according to the roster, there wouldn’t be any arriving until around noon the next day.
It took Andy all of about thirty seconds to remember Cris’s comment about the Christmas tree needing more decorations on the one side.
That was easy enough to do, she thought. And while she enjoyed the camaraderie of decorating the tree with everyone else in the family, there were times when she savored doing things alone.
This felt as if she was carving out a niche for herself. Okay, it was only a niche partially filled with decorations and a couple of barren branches belonging to a Scotch pine. But it was her niche.
Andy dragged the ladder out of the hall closet where it had been stashed after they’d brought the tree in on the first of December and finished the decorating. Well, almost finished it.
Once she had the ladder next to the tree, she snapped it into place and made certain that all the tabs that needed to be locked were locked.
Arming herself with decorations, Andy carefully made her way up the aluminum ladder as far as she could. She stopped one step short of the very top.
With a critical, artistic eye, she went about hanging the decorations where she thought they would be the most effective.
As she worked, Andy silently upbraided herself for her earlier descent into a funk. She was well aware that life wasn’t all roses, gumdrops and music. But as far as things went, she knew she was one of the lucky ones and to regard her life as anything but privileged was just plain wrong.
Stretching up on the tips of her toes to reach a bare spot, Andy thought she heard the front door open.
Unable to see the entrance Andy listened intently, waiting to hear someone call out.
No one did.
When she didn’t discern anything further, Andy decided it had just been her imagination. She got back to critically analyzing where to place decorations.
“Excuse me?”
Andy was so wrapped up in what she was doing, the deep male voice coming from both behind her and beneath her made her jump.
It wasn’t advisable, she realized the next moment, for anyone perched on the next-to-the-top step of a ladder to jump.
The ladder started to wobble and tip. Andy saw too late that there was nothing to brace herself against. She couldn’t very well grab on to the Christmas tree to steady herself, not without bringing the tree down on top of her.
Faster than it took her to gasp, Andy found herself airborne, separating from the ladder, which was falling with her.
She braced herself for a hard impact, but while she was shaken and the air was knocked out of her, she did not come crashing down onto the floor.
Instead, she found herself in the very strong, outstretched arms of the man with the deep voice.
The man who was to blame for this embarrassing incident in the first place.
As she landed in his arms, she felt his forearms tensing, becoming so hard they could have been made of steel.
It took her a second to get her brain in gear. When she did, Andy found herself studying the face of an exceedingly handsome man of about thirty-two with intense sky-blue eyes, trim, dark blond hair and near-perfect chiseled features.
She had never seen him before in her life. His was not a face she would have forgotten.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Andy hated being caught off guard, hated being perceived as vulnerable in any way. It went against her own image of herself. This damsel-in-distress scenario was far from her liking.
“I would have been more all right,” she informed the man, “if you hadn’t snuck up on me.”
“Sorry. I left my noisy shoes at home,” he said matter-of-factly. “There didn’t seem to be anyone around.”
“Obviously your assessment of the situation turned out to be wrong.”
“Obviously,” he agreed.
Andy twisted her head and looked to see if the ladder had done any damage when it landed. Mercifully, it had managed to go straight down and was on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. None of the balls or decorations had been broken or dislodged.
That’s when Andy realized the stranger was still holding her. “Would you mind putting me down?” she asked.
“Is that a request or a question?”
He wanted to debate this? Andy felt her back go up. “What’s the difference?”
“If it’s a request, I have to comply. If it’s a question, all I have to do is give you an answer.”
Andy stared at him. Bemused and puzzled, she said, “And if it’s the latter?”
“Then I’d say yes, I do mind.”
Okay, she’d had about enough of this wise guy. Granted, he’d broken her fall, but he was the one responsible for it in the first place, so the two canceled each other out.
She narrowed her eyes. “Put me down.”
He inclined his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Lowering her until her feet touched the floor, the stranger released his hold. Rather than say anything, he turned his attention to the ladder. He righted it with ease. “Looks like there’s no harm done to either you or the ladder,” he told her. Before she could contest his evaluation, he asked, “Could you tell me where I might find Mr. Richard Roman?”
Andy raised her chin. The guy couldn’t miss her combative stance, she hoped. “I could.”
After several moments had gone by without any further information from her, he asked, “Would you tell me where I can find Mr. Roman?”
“That all depends,” she told him.
His eyes narrowed uncertainly. “On what?”
“On the reason that you’re looking for him,” Andy answered.
“I’m afraid that’s between Mr. Roman and, for now, me.”