Starting Over (Nugget Romance 4) (17 page)

She checked one more time for his car or a light, and when she didn’t see either, she called her father. It was ten o’clock his time. A bit late, but not late enough that he wouldn’t still be up.

She waited while the phone rang, dreading the conversation. It was always the same old, same old, “Sam, come home.” He answered in a gruff voice.

“Hi, Daddy. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Did you get my message?” was all he said.

“About Royce? Yes.”

“The jackass.” Her father grunted. “All right, Sam, you’ve won. Now stop this ridiculous charade and come home.”

Right on cue, Sam thought. The man was nothing if not predictable. “Daddy, I don’t think you understand. I’ve made a life for myself here. I’m happy.”

“Working at a small inn in the middle of nowhere? You’ve got to be kidding me. Samantha, if I knew you wanted to work in the hospitality industry, I could’ve set you up in New York. The Waldorf, the Four Seasons, whatever you wanted.”

“That’s the thing, Daddy, it wasn’t until I came here that I figured out what I wanted to do. I suppose all those years planning events on my charity committees were good for something.”

The other end of the phone went silent.

“Are you still there?” Sam asked.

“I’m here. Well, at least come home and show your face until this absurdness with Royce blows over. Let people see you’re unfazed by it.”

“I am unfazed by it, Daddy. I don’t need to let people see that, because it’s the truth. Besides, I can’t leave now. We’re coming up on the thick of our tourism season.”

“For God’s sake, Sam, stop this. Your place is here, not in some town I’ve never heard of. Don’t you want to spend a couple of weeks in the summerhouse? Or should I go back to selling it?”

“If you want me to go back to suing you.” She still had that ace up her sleeve, even if her legal grounds were flimsy. The whole point of it was to make a scene, because George Dunsbury hated scenes.

“Enough, Sam. You know as well as I do that you don’t have a case. But you know a lawsuit would grab headlines and embarrass me. It’s extortion, plain and simple.”

“Just like you selling the summerhouse. You know the house means the world to me. Yet you’re willing to hold it over my head to get your way.”

“When did you become so stubborn, Sam? You’re my only child, and I want you home.”

“Come visit me, Daddy. It’s beautiful here. You could play golf and go fishing.” And meet the town’s crazies, like Owen. “There’s a world champion bull rider who’s opening a dude ranch nearby. We’re planning to combine our facilities for various guest packages and I would love to show you the place. And the inn, Daddy. It’s a fantastic Victorian, built more than one hundred fifty years ago by a lumber baron for his bride. Between the gold rush and the Donner Party, the place is drenched in history.”

All she got on the other end of the phone was a long sigh.

“Let me know when you plan to come home, Samantha,” he said, and clicked off.

Well, that went well. He had some nerve calling her stubborn. The man could write the book on being obstinate. Next, she tried Wendy and left a message. Maybe her friend was out on a hot date. At least someone was.

Sam went into the great room, planning to watch some television, got a glass of water in the kitchen, and glanced out the window over the sink. Finally, signs of life at Nate’s house. A few lights illuminated his interior. She must’ve missed the sound of his garage door opening and closing while she was on the phone.

After flipping through the channels and finding nothing on TV, Sam decided to read. But her book didn’t hold her interest, so she put it down and leafed through Emily’s wedding binder, checking on her to-do list. Except there wasn’t much to do. She’d done it all.

Too early to go to sleep, she was bored senseless. Peering out the window again, she wondered what Nate was doing. She wandered into her bedroom and examined her outfit in the full-length mirror. A pair of lightweight cashmere lounge pants and a hoodie she’d gotten at Barneys. If she put her bra back on, she’d be acceptable for company. In the bathroom, Sam brushed her hair and freshened up her makeup. Nothing too overt. Just a little more mascara and a touch of lip gloss.

On her way out of the house she slipped on a pair of flats, grabbed a bottle of merlot, and walked over to Nate’s house. Nowadays, it didn’t get dark until well after eight. Maybe they could sit on Nate’s back deck and watch the sun set.

She rang the bell and he came to the door in a pair of faded jeans with rips in the knees and a T-shirt that stretched across his wide chest and emphasized his flat stomach. Nate in a suit was perfection. But Nate in Levi’s was a work of art.

“Hey,” he said. “What brings you by?”

She held up the bottle of wine. “I thought we could hang out on your deck and drink this.”

He pointedly stared at her deck, a twin of his own. “What’s wrong with yours?”

“You want to come over to mine? We can do that.”

“Sam, I thought we talked about this. It’s not a good idea. I’m your boss and you’re clearly obsessed with me.” He grinned at her wolfishly. The man pretended to be full of himself, but Sam knew he wasn’t. For some reason she felt completely comfortable with the sarcastic fool.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Nate. You’re not that great, but I’m desperate for company.”

“Why?” He seemed concerned.

She lifted her shoulders. “Just frustrated.”

“Oh?” He arched a brow.

“Not like that, you jerk. I had an argument with my father.”

He swung his arm wide to usher her inside. His house, the same model as hers, was empty. No furniture, no pictures, no rugs, no nothing. Who lived like that? Nate led the way to the back deck, which had a beautiful view of the golf course and the surrounding mountains. But, like the rest of the house, it was bare, not even a folding chair. She sat on the edge of the deck and dangled her legs off the side.

“I’ll be right back.” He returned with two juice glasses and a corkscrew. “Sorry, this is all I have.”

“You need to do some shopping. Get some furniture.”

“Yeah, I’ll get around to it eventually. I’m a little short on time these days.”

“You could go online,” she said. “Most stores will deliver right to your door, you know?”

“If you care so much, why don’t you do it for me?” He grabbed a wallet out of his back pocket and shoved a credit card at her, grinning like he’d gotten the better of her.

“I’ll do it.” She snatched the card out of his hand. “When I’m done with the place, you won’t recognize it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He tried to grab the Visa back, but she wouldn’t let him.

“What’s your budget?”

“You seriously want to do it? Because if you do, I’ll actually make an exception to the overtime rule. Be sure to keep track of your hours. Don’t do anything on your own time.”

She’d volunteered to do it as a friend, not as his employee. But that was Nate—all business. “Okay.”

“You won’t make it look like a girl’s house, will you? I had a girlfriend once who put frilly pillows everywhere. It took two hours to make the bed.”

She tucked the card into the pouch of her hoodie. “No frilly pillows.” Sam pretended to make a note. “How about I get your approval before making any purchases. That work?”

“Yep,” he said. “If you’re sure you want to do it.”

“It’ll be fun. I like spending other people’s money.”

“I bet you do.” He shook his head. “What’s going on with your old man?”

“He’s like a broken record. He’s still harping on me to come home and take my rightful place as his only child. You’re lucky you have siblings.” And normal parents.

“You thinking of going back?” He watched her closely.

“No, Nate. Why are you so sure I’ll bolt? I like it here.”

“But for how long?” he muttered, then addressed her directly. “What did you tell him?”

“That he should come visit, see the place, see the inn. He practically hung up on me.”

He gave her a commiserating look. “Maybe he’ll come around.”

Sam sincerely doubted it, but nodded her head anyway. Nate opened the wine and filled both of their juice glasses.

“Royce got engaged,” she blurted. “I think that’s what set Daddy off.”

“Your ex? The guy you ran out on?”

“The one and only.” She flashed him a saccharine smile. “Apparently Royce is telling everyone that he left me for his new fiancée.”

“And that’s not true, right, because you left him?” He said it like he almost wished Royce’s version was the real one.

The reason she dumped Royce was no one’s business, least of all Nate’s. He didn’t need to know her mortification.

“Right,” she said. “I don’t think Royce knew this woman as anything more than an acquaintance while we were together.”

“Hey, he has a right to try to save face. You ever think you might’ve crushed the guy, like completely ruined him?”

She laughed and found him glaring at her as if she were the coldest of bitches. “You don’t know anything about it, Nate.”

“More than you think,” he said.

Whatever that meant. Sam didn’t want to get into it with him. As far as she was concerned, Royce was ancient history and the horrible things he’d said about her never needed to be repeated. “What do you think of Brady?”

Nate raised his shoulders. “We’re desperate and he can cook. Do I think he’ll last? Hell no.”

“Why? It’s a great job in a beautiful place. And he himself said he needs work.”

“Sam, did you ever stop to think why someone who seems as competent in a kitchen as he does suddenly needs work? And who just wanders through Nugget?”

“I did,” she said.

“My point exactly.”

She nudged him. “What turned you into such a cynic? Perhaps he’s looking for a fresh start.”

“From what, is the question. If I were a betting man, I’d say he’s running from something.”

“You think it’s bad, like he’s wanted by the law?”

“I doubt it’s anything that serious, but you can bet I’ll have Rhys run a background check on him. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that he’s not an ax murderer, because we need him and I’m still dreaming about that coffee cake.”

“It was good, wasn’t it? Once he loosened up, he seemed sort of nice. Emily liked him. She didn’t even seem fazed by his tattoos—said a lot of young chefs these days have them. Do you really know a place he can live? I don’t get the sense he has a lot of money. He drives a beat-up van, which I’m pretty sure he’s living in. While he waited for you to return from San Francisco to do the interview, he camped in the state park.”

“Rhys owns a duplex on Donner Road,” Nate said. “That’s where he and Maddy used to live before they bought their current house. If Brady checks out, Rhys might rent to him. I think at least one side of the duplex is vacant. The price shouldn’t be too steep and I might be willing to float him an advance if he seems solid.”

“That’s nice of you, Nate.”

“No, it’s good business.”

She knew it was more than that. Despite his jaded-guy act, Sam could see that Nate was a good person. Look what he’d done for Sophie and Mariah.

“How’s Lilly?” she asked, and watched his face brighten.

Sam had never seen a man get so mushy over a baby. Sometimes she’d watch him in the Ponderosa cuddling Lilly, and get shivers. A big, handsome man holding a little bitty baby was nothing short of hot.

“She’s good,” he said. “Growing fast.”

“You mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“I won’t know until you ask it,” he said, and topped off their juice glasses.

“How does that work with the three of you? I mean as far as parenting.”

“Sophie and Mariah are Lilly’s parents,” he said. “I’m her biological father, but they’re raising her.”

“Is it difficult . . . you know, giving that up?”

“That was always the plan,” he said, which didn’t really answer Sam’s question. “They’re great parents. Why, you have a problem with it?”

“No, of course not,” she said. “I think it’s wonderful what you did.” Everyone in town did, which sort of surprised her, given her upbringing in conservative Greenwich. “I just figure that it could’ve gotten complicated. Do you ever want children of your own?”

He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Someday, I suppose. How about you? Were you and Royce planning to have a horde of rug rats?”

“We never talked about it.” Unless she counted the night of the rehearsal dinner. “Don’t you think couples should talk about something as important as children?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he thought, why bother, since you were planning to give him the old heave-ho anyway.”

She shook her head in irritation. Nate sure did seem to have a problem with her and Royce’s breakup. You’d think it was him she’d left at the altar. “How many children do you want to have?”

“Two always seemed like a good round number. My parents had three. That would work too. How ’bout you?”

She smiled. “Two. Ideally a boy and a girl. But I’d be ecstatic no matter what.”

He looked at her. Really looked.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. So why do you think you and Royce never discussed babies?”

It was a good question. She and Nate weren’t even seeing each other and they’d discussed the topic more than she and Royce ever had. In hindsight, maybe she’d known all along that she and Royce were never meant to be.

“I don’t think our relationship ever reached that kind of maturity,” she said, wanting to shelve the topic. “What about you and Lilly? Are you planning to tell her you’re her biological father?”

“It’s not like we could keep it a secret in this town. Sophie and Mariah plan to tell her when she’s old enough to understand.”

“And what if you have children? How will that work?”

“It’s complicated, Sam. Not stuff we’ve really worked out yet.”