I See...Love (A Different Road Book 1) (7 page)

Saturday morning, I wake to the sound and smell of Nina in the kitchen making coffee. I stretch my limbs, and then head into the kitchen. As I pass Nina, I kiss the back of her head and grab two coffee cups from the cupboard. I bring the cups over to where she’s standing and set them down. Nina leans over and nudges my elbow with her elbow. I nudge her back. It’s our secret message to each other. We’ve done it since we were kids. It means I love you. You can’t always say it when you need to, but sometimes it just needs to be said, no matter where you are, so we came up with the elbow nudge. A smile creeps on my lips at her unspoken secret gesture. Let’s just hope she still loves me after what I’m about to do at River’s party.

The party starts at five. I need to be there at three to start setting up and put together the final dishes. At two-thirty, Nina helps me load my catering van. But what she doesn’t know is that I’ve left all of the desserts in the laundry room, which is a room Nina doesn’t go into often. More often than not, I end up going into her room and taking her dirty laundry and adding it to mine. It’s for purely selfish purposes mind you. You do not want to see the meltdown that happens when we want to go out and she doesn’t have anything to wear. Plus, I use the good smelling fabric softener where she uses some cheap generic brand. I like the way my clothes smell, and since we spend so much time together, especially in our tiny office, I like her clothes to smell good, too.

By two-fifty I’m in the driver seat of my van. Nina looks broken as I see her sad face in the rear view mirror as I leave the driveway.

I’m met by an equally broken looking Josh at the front door of River’s beach house. He peeks his head around the door just hoping by some miracle Nina is with me. Give it time, grasshopper. Give it time.

“Where is the rest of your staff?” Josh asks.

“They’ll be here,” I reply, then secretly send a prayer upwards that this all works out.

As I take the food out of the containers and set them on serving platters, I find myself wondering if River is here. I imagine he’s here, since Josh is here. Where you find one, the other is certain to be, too, but I’ve yet to see him.

At four-thirty after everything is set up, I dig my cell phone out of my pocket, cross my fingers, my eyes, and my toes in my shoes and dial Nina.

“What’s up?” she answers.

“Don’t panic,” I start.

“That’s not a good way to start a conversation. Because now I’m panicking,” she replies.

“I left all the desserts in the laundry room. I need you to bring them to Mr. Mason’s house,” I say, and squint my eyes closed waiting for her explosive response.

There’s a long pause, then I hear her footsteps walking. She’s going to the laundry room to see if I’m telling the truth. Then, I hear a very aggravated sigh.

“You’re going to just have to send Maddy or Jeff back to come pick them up. I’m not stepping foot in that house.”

Now I’m the one with the long pause. She’s going to go ape-shit ballistic.

“Maddy and Jeff aren’t here,” I confess.

“WHAT?” she screams.

“You know how important this party is to our business. You’re going to have to bring them yourself. And you’re going to have to stay and help, too,” I tell her.

Gosh, I wish she were here so I could nudge her elbow. Maybe it would soften how mad she is at me right now. She hasn’t hung up on me yet, so that’s a good sign, and I can still hear her breathing, so she hasn’t died from shock.

“Nina?” I call.

“What?” she replies, angrily.

“Make sure you wear your good white blouse…”

Click.

That did it. She hangs up on me.

At four forty-five, Nina pulls up in River’s circular driveway. I rush outside to help her unload, so she can quickly move her catering van next to mine down the street before the guests start to arrive. With our arms loaded with food, we walk into the house together. Josh is standing in the center of the family room talking to River. The second Josh lays eyes on Nina, his whole demeanor changes. I think my whole demeanor changes, too, when I get a look at River. I mean, I’ve seen him in a tux before…in photos. Not that I’ve been actively seeking out magazines or tabloid articles with him in them at clients houses, or in the checkout line at the grocery store. But, seeing him in person with his tan skin, fit build, dark brown hair, and a sexy five o’clock shadow, almost makes me drop the tray in my arms.

“What is it?” River asks Josh.

“Nothing,” replies Josh.

Ouch. I know Nina heard that, too. That
‘nothing’
probably felt like a stab to the heart. I don’t understand how people can use words like a weapon. I know they’re just letters, an inanimate object, but put together they can form the sharpest of swords.

Nina manages to close her agape mouth and heads into the kitchen. I see Josh take a step toward the kitchen, but River’s cat like reflexes grab onto his arm to keep him in place. The doorbell rings, and someone from River’s staff answers the door. Nina rushes out of the kitchen with her keys in her hand to move her van.

More and more guests start to arrive wearing expensive tuxedos and glamorous evening gowns, but Nina has yet to come back into the house. Every time I turn around, it seems like the tray of food I’m holding is emptied. I need to get back into the kitchen so I can heat up the spaghetti with meatball. I know it’s not etiquette, but I deliver a tray of food on a coffee table and leave it. It’s the only way I can think of to keep people happy with food.

The room is filled with happy conversation. There are ooh’s and ahh’s to be heard all around about River’s fantastic home. I keep forgetting Nina told me that none of these people have ever been here before. River has never opened his home up to a party. There is soft music filtering from the speakers in the ceiling. The wall of glass doors at the back of the house is open to the beautiful orange and pink hues of the sunset over the crashing white peaked waves. Josh is standing by River’s side as he talks to a gentleman that I also recognize from the tabloids as his older brother, Stephen. I remember Nina told me they also have a sister, Kate, is her name, but I’ve never seen a photo or have ever heard a word about her.

As I rush back toward the kitchen for more food, I see Nina walk in the front door. My soul instantly fills with relief. She smoothes her hands down the front of her shirt, and then plasters on her business face. I’ve already had two guests ask for my business card and the possibility of hosting parties for them. I was really starting to get worried that I’d find my business cards jammed into the food as they walked out unhappily fed if Nina didn’t come back in to help. I grab another tray of food as she enters the kitchen.

“Here, take these out. I need to heat up the spaghetti and meatball,” I say, and hand her a large serving tray and a handful of cocktail napkins.

Her face is still plastered with her best all business face, but she doesn’t say a word to me. This may end up being the biggest backfire in recorded backfire history. I get out a pan and start to heat up the meatballs. I take the cooked spaghetti noodles out of a plastic bag and run them under hot water in a colander in the sink.

When I turn around from the sink to go to the pan of meatballs, I almost walk right into River’s chest.

“Good God! You are a ninja!” I spit out before I can think better of it.

“A ninja?” he questions.

And it wasn’t in a good kind of question way. It was more of an, ‘I’m pissed off, how dare you insinuate such a ludicrous thing, or even open your mouth to speak to me’ kind of way.

I side step around him and go to the meatballs that are sizzling way too hot in the pan. I turn off the burner and get out a serving platter.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he says, behind me.

“I’m trying to make the spaghetti and meatball hors d'oeuvres,” I reply, sarcastically.

He growls in the back of his throat, which sends shivers up my spine and the cheeks on my face. I open my mouth in shock and look at him.

“Close your mouth, or you’ll catch a fly,” he says.

“But…” I start.

How does he know I have my mouth open? I’d like to wave my hands in front of his face to see if he can really see. Maybe it’s all just a marketing scheme and he really can see. Gosh, that is really insensitive and totally wrong of me to think. But he seems to know just how to get the better of me.

I promptly close my mouth, then grab a fork and go to remove the meatballs from the pan. I stick the fork in the meatball and use my impeccably clean finger to stabilize it. But instead of touching the steaming hot meatball, I stick my finger next to the meatball in the scalding hot grease in the bottom of the pan. Since he heard me open my mouth a second ago, as hard as I try to not open it again and scream in pain, I set down the fork and grab my finger with my other hand. I roll my eyes in the back of my head and mouth the words, ‘Oh, my God’.

“What did you just do?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I reply, in a squeaky, high pitched voice.

“Give it to me,” he demands, and holds out his hand.

“Give you what, a meatball?” I reply, sarcastically, again.

“Give me your hand,” he demands.

“Why would I want to give you my hand?” I question, as the skin on my index finger continues to burn. It feels like it’s burning straight down to the bone.

“Either you give me what you just burned and let me run some cool water over it, or I’ll hoist you over my shoulder and take you into my shower and turn the cold water on over your entire body,” he states.

“You wouldn’t,” I dare, in a low voice.

I guess I shouldn’t have dared him, and I kind of think I actually should have known better. He doesn’t seem like the kind of man who doesn’t do what he says he’s going to do. He bends down and plants his shoulder in my stomach and lifts me over his shoulder. I let out a little shriek and whisper yell for him to put me down. Oh my God, the guests will see. He stands up straight and proceeds to carry me with ease through the living room full of guests and down a hallway I’ve never been down before.

“River,” a stern booming voice calls from behind us at the opening of the hall.

River stops in his tracks. His hands tighten around my upper thighs, then loosens and it’s almost as if it’s an apology for squeezing so hard because he then gives me a gentle squeeze. He then lays his hands flat on the back of my thighs. I feel his hands ball into fists, then loosen again. He gently places his hands back around my thighs so I don’t fall. My view is of River’s tux clad ass and the ground behind him. I place my hands on his back to lift myself up slightly, and then lift my head to see who called him. It’s an older gentleman with a head full of well-manicured silver hair also wearing a tux. He’s the perfect description of what some people call a silver fox. He’s probably in his late fifties, or possibly even sixty. He’s well built and looks like what I imagine River will look like at his age. Draped over his arm like a piece of candy is a gorgeous, blonde, twenty-something bombshell, wearing a killer little black dress that would look amazing on Nina.

“River,” arm candy, purrs.

It’s like nails on a chalkboard. Again his hands tighten around the back of my thighs. River slowly slides me down the front of his body, then places his hands around my arms and gently moves me to the side up against the wall.

“Don’t move,” he commands in a whisper in my right ear.

I hear the sizzle in the pan, and it isn’t from the meatballs. Then, I hear a sharp intake of breath from Joss. She quickly drops a utensil on the counter, and then I hear her mouth open again. Her tongue clicks on the roof of her mouth every time she opens her mouth to speak, sigh, or take a breath. Most people don’t realize the sounds they make when the breath, eat, talk, walk, or move.

“What did you just do?” I ask, full well knowing she’s burned herself.

“Nothing,” she replies, a few octaves higher than normal.

“Give it to me,” I say, and hold out my hand toward her.

“Give you what, a meatball?” she replies, sarcastically.

Her sarcastic, defiant banter sends my dick in my pants twitching. I love a challenge, and she is certainly challenging.

“Give me your hand,” I demand.

“Why would I want to give you my hand?” she challenges, again.

“Either you give me what you just burned and let me run some cool water over it, or, I’ll hoist you over my shoulder and take you into my shower and turn the cold water on over your entire body,” I state.

“You wouldn’t,” she growls in a sexy whisper.

One thing you should know about me is that I’m a man of my word. Challenge that word and I aim to please. I dip my shoulder and plant it in her stomach and lift her over my shoulder. She tries so hard not to make a scene, but I’m River Mason! What the fuck do I care? This is my goddamned house! I’ll do whatever the hell I want to.

I take her out of the kitchen and straight through the family room and all of the guests. I can hear where everyone is standing, and all evening I’ve made it a conscious effort to know just where everyone is in the room. I hear someone hastily walking toward me from the last direction Josh was. I can tell it’s Josh from the distinct crack he has in his left knee when he walks, as I head down the hall toward my bedroom.