The Accidental Encore Page 2

  “Oh my Gosh!” Melissa gasped. “Okay, okay.” She nodded her head. “I’m glad you warned me.” She pushed past Allie and walked into the den, flipping on the overhead light. “Come stand under the light so I can see.”

  Allie closed the door and faced her oldest friend. “How bad is it?”

  “Well…” Melissa grabbed Allie’s chin and swiveled her face back and forth under the recessed spotlights. “You look like you were punched in the face. Hard.”

  “I was punched in the face. By me.”

  “I didn’t think airbags did that kind of damage,” Melissa said.

  “They don’t. I was taking a sip of diet coke when the airbag deployed. I’m lucky I didn’t chip a tooth.”

  Melissa narrowed her eyes. “I thought you gave up soda?”

  “God, Mel. Only you would hone in on that detail at a time like this.”

  “If you’d been that diligent with me about chocolate, I’d look a hell of a lot better in these jeans right now.”

  Patience, Allie reminded herself. She needed an honest opinion, and no one was more qualified than Melissa. “Can we focus on me for just a second, please? I’ve got clients to see tomorrow and I need to know what reaction to expect. Remember, I’m talking about children. I don’t want to scare them or their parents, whose checks pay my mortgage.”

  “With a little makeup, they might not notice the bruising, but I’m not sure about the swelling.”

  “I knew it.” Allie sat on the couch and flung her arm over her eyes. “I look like the elephant man.”

  Melissa laughed. “Allie, please. The elephant man never looked as good as you.” Melissa sat next to Allie and patted her leg. “Just tell the kids you were in a car accident. What’s the big deal?”

  “I look like a freak!”

  “Says the girl voted most beautiful in high school,” Melissa mumbled loud enough for Allie to hear and feel the sting. “Welcome to my world.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Allie, you’re stunningly beautiful, even with a bruised and battered cheek.”

  “Says the happily married mother of one.”

  “Touché.” Melissa pulled Allie’s hands into her own. “Look, are you okay? Did this accident do any real damage?”

  “No. I was sore for a few days, but I’m better now. It’s faded a lot in the last few days. I was just hoping I’d look normal by Friday.”

  Melissa cocked her head and blinked once, very slowly. Here comes the lecture, Allie thought. “Oh, I get it now. You’ve got a date.”

  “I was feeling sorry for myself and signed up for a new site. Lovefinders.com.”

  “Oh, Allie,” Melissa chided in her mom voice. “I thought you were done with online dating.”

  “I was. Until I got this.” Allie reached for the embossed envelope she’d tucked under a magazine on the coffee table. “Sharon Fowler is getting married.”

  “So?” Melissa shrugged and tossed the invitation aside. “You’ve gone to weddings alone.”

  Allie threw her hands in the air. “Sharon Fowler found a man to marry her, and I can’t even get a date? Sharon Fowler?”

  “Okay, I understand what you’re getting at, but I thought you hated the whole online dating routine.”

  “I do hate it, but what are my choices? I work alone all day. I work with children at night. And all my friends are married or in serious relationships.”

  Melissa pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling. “I was just reading this article about how alumni associations are a great way to meet men.”

  “I don’t think any Bowden alumni live in Atlanta or even the state of Georgia.” Allie got up to pace around her den. “You know as well as I do that I’ve tried it all. Social clubs, church singles groups, night school, wine tastings. I’m not alone because I haven’t tried. Where are all the single men in this town?” She stopped and faced Melissa. “And I don’t mean to sound like a bitch when you’re listening to me whine, but seriously, Mel, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Look, Al, calm down. I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know what it’s like out there now. But I hate to see you get all worked up over this. You were doing so great before, enjoying work and really getting comfortable in your own skin. I’m so proud of the progress you’ve made, and I hate to see you backslide like this.”

  Allie rubbed her throbbing head. “I know. Between the wreck and this invite, I’ve hit rock bottom.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t have any injuries from the accident.”

  “I don’t, but my car is in the shop for weeks and the guy who hit me is disputing my account. He insists my light was red and I know it was green. You know what a conscientious driver I am.”

  “So what does that mean?” Melissa asked.

  Allie sat down and let out a frustrated sigh. “It means my life sucks, all the way around.”

  ***

  “You’re late,” Leah said after slamming the door of the rental car. “I told you this morning practice ended at five.”

  It was like talking to a pint-sized version of Mark. “I know, and I’m sorry. I got hung up on the job.”

  Blackjack barked from the backseat in welcome. Leah reached back and gave him a quick pat. “Hung up how?”

  Craig took a deep breath and turned out of the school parking lot into traffic. He’d gotten too used to living alone and not answering to anyone. “You know I’m working on that house in town? Well, when the windows I ordered were delivered, two of them were the wrong size, and by the time I got the bozos at the store to realize it was their fault, I barely had time to lock the place down.”

  Leah huffed out a breath and rapped her fingers on her leg. “This is why I need a cell phone. If I had a phone, you could have just texted me that you were running late and I wouldn’t have worried.”

  “Did you really think I wasn’t coming?”

  “No, but that’s not the point.”

  As she dove into all the reasons why a twelve-year-old girl should have a cell phone, Craig zoned out and snuck glances at his niece. How had she gotten so big? It seemed like just yesterday he and Mark were scrambling to figure out how to raise a four-year-old whose mother and aunt had died in a car crash. And look at her. Those long legs and budding breasts. Jesus—Leah had breasts. When the hell had that happened?

  “Are you listening to me, Uncle Craig?”

  “Huh? Uh, yeah. You said you’d be safer with a phone.”

  “Exactly. So will you talk to dad?”

  “I’m pretty sure he knows you want a phone.” And he felt pretty sure Mark wanted to keep her as far away from becoming a teenager as possible. Unfortunately, from the looks of her, there wasn’t a damn thing they could do to stop it. “So, what’s on the agenda for tonight?” he asked. “Any homework?”

  She sighed. “Math, as usual, and a little bit of Spanish.”

  “You’re taking Spanish?”

  She smiled, and for a moment, Craig thought he was talking to Becca. “Si, senior. Esta noche tengo piano.”

  “Say what?”

  “I said, tonight I have piano.”

  “Oh. Okay.” He turned onto Mark’s street. “Do we have time for dinner first?”

  Leah looked at the clock on the dash of the crappy rental. “Nope. According to Dad’s notes, tonight’s lasagna, so it’s got to cook for an hour.”

  “I’m starving,” Craig said. “How about we do something crazy and veer off the schedule? We can have lasagna tomorrow and tonight I’ll whip us up a couple of sandwiches.”

  “Can’t,” Leah said. “Dad always makes enough for Ms. Allie.”

  “Who’s Ms. Allie?”

  “My piano teacher.” She rolled her eyes. “Jeez, did you even read Dad’s instructions?”

  “Your piano teacher stays for dinner?”

  “Not always, but we’re her last lesson of the day, so Dad always makes enough in case she wants to stay.”

  Interesting. Homey d
inners with the piano teacher was a side of Mark that Craig hadn’t expected. “Okay, I guess we’re having lasagna.”

  Chapter 4

  When Leah walked into the kitchen, Uncle Craig was looking outside through the window. “Somebody’s here,” he said, but didn’t quit staring.

  Leah looked over his shoulder. She rubbed her face against the soft fabric of his worn flannel shirt. “That’s Ms. Allie.”

  He brought his hand to her shoulder and let out a whistle. “You didn’t tell me your piano teacher was hot. No wonder Mark invites her to dinner.”

  Leah sputtered. She knew Ms. Allie was beautiful. She’d always impressed Leah with her stylish clothes and fancy shoes, but hot? Weird. She nudged Craig in the arm. “Dad’s married now, remember?”

  He dropped the curtain and walked toward the front door with her in the crook of his arm. “He may be married, squirt, but he’s not dead.”

  Leah broke free of his embrace and opened the door just as Allie raised her hand to knock. “Oh,” she said and clutched her shirt with her hand. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry, Ms. Allie.” Leah opened the door wide. “Come on in.”

  Allie took two steps into the dimly lit foyer and then jerked to a stop, her eyes wide on Blackjack, sitting calmly at Uncle Craig’s feet.

  “That’s Blackjack. He belongs to my Uncle Craig.”

  “Oh.” Allie flashed her perfect teeth before holding out her hand. “Hello, Uncle Craig.”

  Leah looked at her uncle. Instead of the flirting smirk she expected, his brows were drawn tightly together and he puckered his mouth like he tasted something bad. “Do I know you?”

  “I don’t think so,” Ms. Allie said. “But you do look familiar.”

  They shook hands slowly and eyed one another as Leah stood waiting. “Well, he is my dad’s brother.”

  They dropped their hands. “It’s nice to meet you, Craig,” Allie said. She glanced down at the large black and white dog. “And Blackjack.” She turned to face Leah. “You ready?”

  “Yep.” Leah walked into the den and sat down at the piano bench. Allie sat her bag on the floor and draped her pretty wool coat over the chair.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Uncle Craig asked Allie from the foyer.

  “No, thank you.” She smiled at him and then opened Allie’s lesson book to the song they’d been working on for her recital. “Let’s see how much practice you’ve done this week.”

  ***

  Craig leaned against the door casing of the foyer and watched Ms. Allie as she took a seat next to Leah. The gentle curves of her backside nicely complimented what he’d seen of her front. He never looked twice at beautiful blondes, not after Julie. He certainly didn’t seek out blondes who wore tailored slacks and silk blouses, but this one, with her light green eyes and dark brows, she packed a punch. He pushed away and went back into the kitchen to check the timer on the lasagna. Thirty minutes. Well, if the beautiful Ms. Allie wanted to stay for dinner, her timing was perfect.

  Craig took a seat at the kitchen table and opened his laptop. Blackjack curled up under the window and went back to sleep. Craig checked his email, fired off a few responses, made notes on his calendar for project quotes, and clicked over to the design for the house that was his current obsession.

  The challenge of the historic renovation had captured more of his creative spirit than he’d thought possible. Not since the early years of Archer Construction, now a small division of Bell Buildings International, had he gotten this excited about a project. Of course, this wasn’t an Archer Construction job, but an Archer Renovation. Both Archer companies had humble beginnings; one had taken on a life of its own and had cost him everything. The other had saved him when his world came crashing down.

  Leah pounded a sour note and brought Craig’s attention back to the den and the women in the next room. It was getting harder to think of Leah as a child. How had he not noticed the young woman blooming like a flower in front of his eyes? The farther he ran from the past, the more he seemed to count on some things staying the same: Leah and Mark.

  But Mark was on his honeymoon. His marriage would change the way Craig popped in and out of this house on a whim. He wondered how Mark’s marriage would change his relationship with the girl he considered his own now slowly mastering a song on her mother’s piano. He felt relieved to shake off his mood when the timer buzzed.

  He pulled the lasagna from the oven just as Leah and Allie entered the brightly lit kitchen. He nearly dropped the pan before setting it on the counter as that niggling thought that they’d met before tickled his addled brain. He usually didn’t forget a pretty face.

  “Dinner’s ready,” he announced. “As you can see, we have more than enough if you’re interested in joining us.”

  She’d folded her coat over her arm and had her bag over her shoulder, pulling the material tight across her chest. He caught the tiniest glimpse of white lace between the buttons of her beige top.

  “It smells wonderful,” Allie said. “Are you sure I won’t be intruding?”

  Craig liked the sound of her voice, crisp with a hint of smoke around the edges. “Wouldn’t ask if you were. Leah, do your uncle a favor and set the table while I open a bottle of wine.” He chose a dusty bottle from Mark’s stash in the built in Craig had designed. “Red okay?” he asked Allie.

  She raised her brows, and he was momentarily distracted by the multitude of shades in her wavy hair. It wasn’t quite blonde and wasn’t quite brown, but an interesting mix of both. “Don’t open it on my account. I’m driving.”

  “Half a glass won’t hurt.” He shoved napkins and forks into Leah’s hand and scowled when she rolled her eyes. “Besides, if Mark cooks like he does everything else, we’ll need a little something to wash this down.”

  Her answering smile had his nerves on alert. Damn Mark for not warning him the piano teacher was a looker. He’d at least have caught a quick shower and changed his clothes. As it stood, he smelled like he’d spent the day rolling around the lumberyard.

  He tossed the premade salad into a bowl, added the croutons and dressing, and brought it to the table. When she turned to take a seat, he noticed a fading bruise on her right cheek that she’d tried to hide with makeup. An abusive boyfriend would undoubtedly explain Mark’s disinterest. “Dinner is served.”

  Chapter 5

  Allie fought the nerves that had gripped her since she’d walked into the house and spotted Craig in the foyer. Don’t blow this, she reminded herself as she took a sip of wine from the glass he handed her—with his ringless left hand. She glanced at him from under her lashes and quickly looked away. Get a grip, Allie. The man looked like a day laborer. Was she really desperate enough to hit on a guy without health insurance or a 401k?

  Leah’s Uncle Craig had an interesting face. She wouldn’t call him handsome, not with his unshaven jaw and the way his nose listed to the left. The injury to his forehead looked fresh and deep. He worked outside; she recognized the scent of a man who used his large, calloused hands doing something physical. His wavy brown hair had streaks of gold, most likely from the sun. His limp made her wonder if he’d injured himself in some sort of work related accident.

  “So, Craig,” she began. “Do you live around here?”

  He lifted one shoulder as he’d done in the foyer and met her gaze. He didn’t resemble his banker brother, except around the eyes. Mark’s were an honest sky blue, while Craig’s seemed as still and murky as the deep waters of the ocean. “Not far.”

  “It takes me ten minutes to walk to Uncle Craig’s house,” Leah explained as she picked the croutons out of her salad. “But only if I cut through yards and stuff.”

  Allie blotted her lips with the napkin after deeming the lasagna too hot to eat. She angled her head toward Leah. “How was the wedding?”

  Allie watched as Leah wrinkled her nose. “It was okay.”

  “Okay?” Allie couldn’t imagine anything more romantic than the handsome wid
owed father taking a second chance at love. “That’s all you have to say?”

  Leah shrugged. “The ceremony took forever, but the party after was kinda fun.”

  Craig laughed and drew her attention back to him. She was surprised to see dimples around the edges of his full lips. He dug into the heap of steaming lasagna he’d piled on his plate. “You should have seen her on the dance floor.”

  Allie smirked at Leah. “Did you go a little crazy?”

  Leah shoved back from the table. Allie noticed her pink cheeks as she pulled Parmesan cheese from the refrigerator and skulked back to her seat. “I was just—Ms. Allie!” she said with a gasp. “What happened to your face?”

  Allie instinctively lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. She’d thought her bruise had faded when the perceptive girl hadn’t said anything earlier. Of course, the light in the foyer was dim and she sat on the opposite side during the lesson. “It’s nothing. I got into a car accident, that’s all.”

  Allie felt more than saw Craig pull back from his plate. “You.” He fixed her with a pointed stare as sharp as the tines on the fork he aimed at her face. “You hit me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That’s how I know you. You ran the red light and plowed your little silver sedan right into my truck.”

  Allie deliberately closed her mouth after it had fallen open. She lifted her chin in the air and straightened her spine. “You ran the red light. Mine was green.”

  “Green my ass!” He scraped his chair back and stood up slowly, settling into a cocksure stance that had her rising from her seat. The dog, with its boxy head and light eyes, got up and wagged his tail at his master’s feet. She swallowed hard when she realized the dog resembled a short-legged pit bull.

  “Listen,” she began with a weary look at the dog, “I don’t know what you were doing instead of paying attention to the road, but you obviously don’t know the difference between green and red.”

  “Right back atcha, sister.”

  Leah raised her hands in the air. “Whoa. Can we call a truce, please?”