tugging on Julia’s sleeve as if she were nine instead of thirty-one.
Lucy smoothed her dress and quickly checked her lipstick in the foyer mirror. Julia thought her Mom looked great. As usual.
For a woman in her late fifties, her mother still dressed with style and had a great figure—owing to her yoga and Jazzercise classes. She even still wore sexy high heels, the kind Julia mainly avoided due to her height and because they were so darned uncomfortable. Who was benefitting from all that agony anyway? Men, of course. Pure exploitation, Julia believed.
But Lucy didn’t have a feminist bone in her body. Including her feet. She didn’t understand what Julia meant, calling it exploitation. She enjoyed being admired. “Isn’t that what it was all about?” she’d once asked her daughter.
Julia had long ago given up trying to enlighten her. There was clearly no chance of changing Lucy’s thinking at this point about the power struggle in male-female relationships. She obviously didn’t think there was any.
Ready for the games to begin, Lucy pulled open the door with a welcoming smile that stretched from hoop earring to hoop earring.
The man on the other side of the door wore as smile just as wide.
Julia took in his looks with a glance. Medium height with a round face, bright blue eyes and a warm, friendly expression that distracted from his shiny bald head.
Nicely dressed, Julia thought. While she hadn’t expected him to wear a uniform with his name on the pocket, the brown tweed sports coat, pale yellow wool vest and patterned tie looked rather country club-ish.
He was no movie star however. Not even an aging one. But not bad-looking, she amended. Most of all, Lester Baxter looked…friendly. Kind. Even patient. The type of man who would find her mother’s eccentricities charming and endearing.
Julia wasn’t sure how she could tell all that from just a glance. But she could.
He held out a huge bouquet of pink roses and offered them to Lucy. “Some flowers for the hostess.”
He handed them down to her, looking eager to see if the gift was pleasing. Lucy accepted the bouquet with a radiant smile. “Lester…you shouldn’t have. They’re just beautiful.”
“Just like you. You look like Miss America holding that bouquet, Lucy. I wish I had a camera,” Lester teased.
“Oh, stop.” Lucy shook her head, but Julia knew she was definitely enjoying the compliments and could have had him go on all night.
Julia sighed and rolled her eyes. This was worse than she imagined. Much worse.
“I brought you another surprise,” he added. “I told you my son was coming down from Boston for a visit? Well, he got to town a little sooner than I expected. He pulled up to the house just as I was walking out the door, so I brought him along. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Oh…of course not. Come in, come in….” Lucy stepped aside and Julia could see now that another man stood just behind Lester. He must have purposely been standing aside, waiting out of view.
Now he stepped into the light. He glanced at Lucy and smiled briefly. Then looked up, over Lucy’s head, at Julia.
Their eyes met. Julia felt her mouth go dry, her heartbeat go from zero to a hundred and ten in two seconds flat.
Lester—the bald, paunchy, eager-to-please repair man—had fathered that?
Impossible.
Lester’s son must have been adopted. He was without question the very definition of tall, dark and totally hot.
He stepped through the doorway, towering over all of them, Julia included. She rarely had to tip her head back to make eye contact with a man. But now she found herself staring up at him. And they were all in such close quarters in the small entrance to Lucy’s house. At least, it suddenly seemed much smaller and crowded, Julia thought. Draped in a dark leather jacket, his shoulders looked endlessly wide, his dark eyes looked endlessly deep.
“Sam, this is Lucy Martinelli. My Lucy,” he added, with a meaningful glance at Julia’s mother.
Sam Baxter held out his hand to Lucy and flashed a brief but brilliant smile. Julia blinked as the gesture transformed his features so completely from serious to something that was warm and full of light. Deep dimples creased the lean cheeks. His teeth were white and strong. Tiny lines fanned out at the sides of his eyes, a rich, dark, chocolaty shade of brown.
“Lucy…great to meet you. My father’s told me a lot about you.”
“And I’ve heard so much about you, Sam. I feel as if I already know you, dear,” Lucy said.
Sam shook his head, looking almost boyishly embarrassed. He glanced at his father. “I hope he hasn’t been boring you.”
“I can’t help bragging about my boy,” Lester laughed and patted his son on the arm. “And this must be Julia. Lucy told me plenty about you, too, young lady….”
Lester turned to Julia. It seemed that everyone else had forgotten she was there.
Lester gave Julia’s hand a hardy shake. “Good to meet you, dear.”
“Nice to meet you, Lester.” Julia smiled cordially.
It was hard not to like Lester. She made a sincere effort to match his enthusiasm—despite having only first heard of his existence five minutes ago.
She felt Sam Baxter staring at her. She looked up at him. No dazzling smile for her. To the contrary, his expression was serious again. His eyes, unreadable. He didn’t offer his hand and introduce himself, and for some reason, she felt relieved instead of slighted.
“Sorry to barge in. My father insisted I stop by for a minute and say hello….”
Sam’s apology was meant for her mother, Julia knew. Yet he addressed it to her.
She met his glance again. Just like the first time, she felt her mouth go dry, her polished conversation skills deserting her.
What in the world was going on here? When had she gotten so tongue-tied around a man? Silly…Had to be the wine. It had gone straight to her head. She’d never been able to drink on an empty stomach.
Before Julia had a chance to answer, her mother stepped forward and took Sam by the arm.
“Nonsense. Come inside and make yourself comfortable. You must stay for dinner. Lester, tell him he has to stay.”
“Of course he’ll stay,” Lester insisted, following them.
The seniors were double-teaming him. He didn’t stand a chance. He’d soon agree, Julia predicted, just to be polite.
The idea of spending the evening making small talk with Sam Baxter made Julia uneasy, but she brushed the feeling aside. She was just tired after a long workday, where she had to be polite and friendly to strangers all day at her job. Now she was forced to do it all night. Her annoyance had nothing to do with him.
“Well…maybe for a few minutes,” Sam Baxter said.
“Wait ’til you try her cooking. You’re in for a treat.”
“Lester, please. Your son is in the business. He’s not going to be impressed with my simple home cooking.”
“Don’t listen to her. You’ll see. You’ll be asking for her recipes,” Lester promised.
Julia thought her mother was a good cook and Lester’s lavish compliments were at least in the ballpark this time.
She wondered what Lester meant by Sam being in the business. Most chefs she’d ever met, even the younger ones, didn’t have Sam’s lean, fit body. Even the guys on TV. There was definitely something sexy about a man who cooked, though. An image of this man in chef’s whites, an intimidating force in a hot, steamy commercial kitchen was very…distracting.
“Come.