The Accidental Encore Read online

“My last lesson tonight with the crazy uncle. God, I can’t wait to be free of him.”

  Melissa pursed her lips. “You’re always talking about this guy. I think you like him.”

  “What?” Allie tried to hand Henry a Cheerio from Melissa’s brightly colored snack bowl. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “I just think you spend an awful lot of time talking about him, which means you’re spending an awful lot of time thinking about him.”

  “Because he’s so annoying. Do you know what he said to me on Tuesday when I stayed for dinner?”

  “You stayed for dinner? When he annoys you so much?”

  “Leah wanted me to stay. She’s worried about her new stepmom and she’s been asking me all sorts of questions. I’m trying really hard not to screw this up.”

  “You don’t have a good relationship with Suzanne,” Melissa pointed out.

  “I know, which is why I’m trying to help her. Leah’s mom is dead. If she and her new stepmom don’t figure out how to make this relationship work, her teen years are going to be awful.”

  “So what did he tell you on Tuesday?” Melissa asked. She didn’t want to veer away from the subject of the not-that-attractive uncle that was driving Allie crazy. A man who got a rise out of Allie was a rarity.

  “He asked me why I online date when I could snap my fingers and men would come running.”

  Was Allie really expecting her to do anything other than agree he’d hit the nail on the head with his assessment? “And what did you tell him?”

  “Come to think of it, I don’t think I actually answered his question, but I started to vent about how terrible online dating is.” Allie picked up the bowl when Henry knocked it off the table, scattering Cheerios everywhere. “Anyway, he’s just annoying and I won’t have to deal with him again after tonight.”

  Melissa couldn’t help but stir the pot. Despite her insistence she wasn’t attracted, Melissa knew better. “I think I know what bothers you so much about him.”

  “That he’s breathing?” Allie offered with a chuckle.

  “He’s immune to you and you don’t know how to handle it.”

  Allie’s mouth flew open. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean he’s not swallowing his tongue whenever you’re around. You’ve never experienced that before.”

  “Oh yes, I have. Not every man on the planet is attracted to me.”

  “Yes, they are.” Melissa knew she had Allie’s attention when her friend didn’t notice that Henry was throwing Cheerios in her hair. “At least at first they are.”

  “You mean before they get to know me?”

  “I mean on sheer looks alone, all men are attracted to you. And you know it.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Allie sputtered. “Look at Ben. We met him at the same time and he went home with your number.”

  Melissa pulled a toy frog from her bag and suctioned his feet to the table in front of Henry to divert his attention. “Ben started talking to me as a way to get to you. I was the warm up act.”

  “What? How do you know that?”

  “He told me.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Allie said as the waiter delivered her sandwich and Melissa’s salad. Henry made a dive for the silverware before Melissa quickly snatched it out of his reach. “You’re making that up.”

  “No, I’m not. He figured he’d break the ice with me, I’d introduce him to you, and he’d walk away with the real prize.” She speared a cherry tomato. “Lucky for me, he never got to you.”

  Allie scowled at Melissa over her untouched sandwich. “Ben? He and I would kill each other.”

  “Yes, I know, which is why I didn’t let him get to you.”

  Allie picked up her sandwich. “But just because Ben,” she closed her eyes with her sandwich lifted halfway to her mouth, “sorry, I just need a moment to blot out the visual there. Just because Ben thought I was attractive doesn’t mean all men are attracted to me.”

  Melissa pointed her fork at Allie. “If you throw out Gabe as an example, I’m going to slap you.”

  “Well, he was never attracted to me.”

  If their college friend Gabe was her only proof, Allie was grasping at straws. “Yeah, and that’s how we knew he was gay. Admit it, Allie. You like this guy because he doesn’t treat you like some doll that should be set on a shelf and admired.”

  “He treats me like someone he’d like to run over with his car. Again.”

  “Sounds to me like the kid who bullies the girl he likes on the playground.”

  “He’s certainly a kid.” Allie wiped her mouth with her napkin. “He did mention a wife, so he must be divorced. He’s been staying with Leah for two weeks. If there was a wife, she would have made an appearance by now.”

  “I thought you didn’t care?” Melissa asked.

  “I don’t, but it’s interesting that a Cretan like him could get a woman to marry him. It gives me hope.”

  Melissa lifted her brows, but didn’t say anything. She could tell it made her jealous and more than a little intrigued. “I’d like to meet this guy.”

  “Just look up the word ‘asshole’ in the dictionary. His picture’s right there.”

  Um hum, Melissa thought. Definitely attracted. For once, things were looking up.

  Chapter 13

  Blackjack and Leah greeted Allie at the door Thursday night. Craig was nowhere to be found and Allie let go of the breath she’d been holding since she got out of the car. She saw his truck, so she knew he was home. Maybe he would lay low and let her slip out after the lesson without making a big deal. She hadn’t imagined he wouldn’t be there to make a sarcastic jab or two before they parted ways. She felt disappointed she wouldn’t get the chance to tell him how happy she was she wouldn’t have to see him again.

  Leah dove into her recital song. She’d practiced, as was evident by her progress. “That’s really good,” Allie said. “Try to slow down the intro part of section A and smooth out the rhythm for section B. Remember slow and even.”

  “Slow and even,” Leah repeated with a nod. “I can do that.”

  “Keep up the good work and you’ll be ready for the recital.”

  “That’s my plan,” Leah said.

  “I wrote down a couple of pages in your lesson book for you to work on and I’ve circled the octaves.” Allie stood up and gathered her notes. “So, are you ready to see your dad?”

  “Yes, really ready.”

  “I imagine he’s ready to see you, too.”

  “I hope so.”

  They walked to the door and Allie tried to discreetly glance around for Craig. She pulled open the door, turned around to say goodbye to Leah, and took one last look around. Was he really not going to say goodbye? “I’ll see you next week. Tell your dad I said hello.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  Allie walked out to her car, dumbfounded that Craig hadn’t gotten one last jab in before she left. She tossed her bag in the back seat and had just opened the driver’s side door when he came jogging toward her. His hair was wet and he was barefoot, wearing jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. The muscles in her stomach clenched.

  “Allie,” he called and ran a hand through his hair as he rounded the car. He smelled like soap and pine. “You done already?”

  She nodded and eyed him suspiciously. He had an open and friendly expression on his face that had her hackles up.

  “Are we square on payment?” he asked.

  “Yes. Mark paid in advance before his honeymoon.”

  “Of course he did. He’s very responsible.”

  She nodded once again and watched as he shoved one hand into his pants pocket and grabbed the door with his other hand, encasing her against the car. “It was sort of nice to meet you, Craig.”

  He laughed, and Allie considered the way his face changed. Gone were the sharp angles and brooding expression, replaced by long dimples and straight, white teeth. “Right back at ya, Allie. Actually, I have a favor to ask of you.”

&nbs
p; “You want me to teach you how to play the piano?”

  “Funny. I’ve been looking over those online dating sites and I can’t make heads or tails of any of them. I was wondering if you’d be willing to help me choose one and get me set up?”

  “You want my help? With online dating?”

  He shrugged his shoulders and dared her to make fun. “Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Well, of course I’m serious. Do you think I’d ask if I wasn’t?”

  “Well…”

  “Look,” he said. “It’s no big deal if you don’t want to. I just thought it would save me a step or two. I can figure it out on my own.”

  “No, no, I can help. I’d be happy to help.”

  “Good. Great. Thanks.” He dropped his hand from the door and shoved it in the other pocket.

  “So when did you want to do this?” she asked.

  He blew out a breath. “Mark gets back tomorrow night. How about Saturday?”

  Allie’s mind went blank and then she remembered the date she’d made. “I’m meeting someone for coffee on Saturday morning. I could do after. Around lunchtime.”

  “I was thinking later. I’m meeting a sub at the job and I won’t be back up here until around five.”

  “A sub?”

  “Sub-contractor.”

  “Oh. Well…” She hated to admit she didn’t have plans for Saturday night, but obviously neither did he. “Okay. Why don’t you call me when you’re back?”

  “Great.” He gave her that smile that made her suspicious again. “Should I come to you or do you want to come to me?”

  “Why don’t I come to you?” she said. “Your computer, your profile.”

  “Sure. I’m not far from here. You got a pen and I’ll give you the address?”

  “Just tell me when you call and I’ll plug it into Betty.”

  “Betty?” he asked.

  “My GPS.”

  “You named your GPS?”

  “She’s British. Queen Elizabeth. Betty.” Allie shrugged. “She’s helpful, so I gave her a name.”

  Allie could tell by the pinched look on his face that he wanted to say something nasty, but common sense prevailed and he only shook his head and said, “Of course you did.”

  “So, I’ll see you Saturday, then?” she asked.

  “Yep.” He stepped back. “I’ll call you.”

  “I’ll be waiting by the phone.”

  ***

  Craig jogged down the stairs just as the doorbell rang and Blackjack started barking. He glanced at the clock on the mantle and shook his head. He’d asked for fifteen minutes when he’d called her from the truck and she’d given him fourteen and a half.

  “Are you always on time?” he asked as he opened the door. She rolled her eyes and sauntered past him into the foyer and he caught a whiff of yet another perfume. “You always smell good, too?”

  She turned around and scowled, but only until his dog started begging for her attention. She kneeled down and rubbed him behind the ears with both hands. “Are you bothered by promptness and good grooming?”

  “No. I’m just curious.”

  “I like to be on time.” She stood up. “My business demands it. I also have a thing for perfume. Sorry if it bothers you.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “Craig,” she said and turned around in a circle. “Your house is amazing. I’ve driven past this neighborhood, but I’ve never been in here.”

  “Thanks.” He felt self-conscious about the home site Julie had found and insisted they build on in the executive neighborhood. “It’s not finished.”

  She tiptoed around the foyer, peeking her head inside the empty dining room. Her heels clicking on the marble sounded like gunshots in his head. Now that she was here, in the home he’d built for his wife, the home he could barely stand to be in, he wasn’t sure this was such a good idea.

  “It could use some furniture, but other than that…”

  “Come on in,” he said and offered to take her coat. She shimmied out of a bright orange wool jacket that made her hair shine like a flame. Her coat smelled like her, rich and exotic. He slung it over the stair banister and led her into the den. “Can I get you a drink?”

  She seemed to consider the question as if he’d asked if she wanted to take her clothes off. “Are you having a drink?”

  “I’m going to have a beer, but I can get you some wine if you’d prefer.”

  “Do you have any open?”

  “No, but I know how to use a corkscrew.”

  “I’m fine,” she said and turned to look out the two-story Palladian window. “This is a really great view.”

  “I’m getting a beer,” he said as he walked into the adjoining kitchen. He knew she’d followed when her shoes began clicking against the Mexican tile. Blackjack followed on her heels. “If you want something, tell me now.”

  “Wow. Look at this kitchen.” She ran her hand lovingly over the granite countertop and knocked her knuckles against the butcher-block island. “You must like to cook.”

  “No,” he said without explanation.

  “Well, you could do some serious cooking in this kitchen.”

  “I thought you didn’t like to cook?” he asked.

  “I don’t, but someone could.”

  She eyed him as he opened his bottle of beer and took a sip. “Sure you don’t want something?” he asked.

  “I’ll have one of those.”

  “A beer?”

  “Yes.” She put her hands on her hips. She wore jeans and a multi-colored shirt with ties at the neckline. It was the most casual outfit he’d seen her in to date. “I drink beer.”

  “I don’t have any pussy beer.”

  She sputtered, as he knew she would, and shook her head. “Thank goodness.”

  “I mean it. I’d rather open a bottle of wine than have you take two sips, gag it down like medicine, and act like want to shave your tongue.”

  “What is it, million dollar beer? For goodness sake, let me see the label.”

  He gripped his bottle with two fingers and held out his hand so she could inspect the microbrew.

  She speared him with those cat eyes. “That should be fine.”

  “Fine?” he asked. “Have you ever heard of this?”

  “No, but I like pale ale.” She lifted her hand and placed it over her left breast, drawing his eye to her chest. “I swear to drink it all.”

  “Didn’t your mother tell you not to swear?”

  “No, but she used plenty of swear words.”

  Damn it, there she went, intriguing him again. What had he been thinking, inviting her to his home, offering her alcohol? “You want to have a sip before you commit?”

  “Sure.” She grabbed his beer and lifted it to her lips. He shouldn’t have watched her, he shouldn’t have wondered how soft her lips would feel against his, he shouldn’t have envied the bottle for not having to wonder. He pulled another beer from the fridge after she nodded and handed his back. “It’s good.”

  He tried to shake off the uncomfortable vibe from the kitchen and moved past her through the den and into his office. He picked up an upholstered seat from the corner and brought it behind the desk next to his large leather chair. He pulled the chain on his desk lamp and took a seat in front of his computer. Blackjack maneuvered under his desk and lay down in his usual spot.

  “This is a very masculine room.” She poked around the bookshelves he’d built into the wall. “Is this you and Mark?”

  He nodded, but didn’t look up. He knew she held the picture of them as kids posing at the base of the hill behind their childhood home.

  “Where was this?”

  “North Carolina.”

  “Is that where you’re from?”

  “Yep.”

  “Interesting.” She put the frame down and slid into the seat next to Craig. When she leaned over to put her beer on the coaster, her knee brushed his under the desk. “So, wher
e do you want to begin?”

  “I’ve been looking at a couple of sites. Some I’ve heard of, some I haven’t.”

  “I’ve probably tried them all.”

  “Which one should I use?”

  “They’re basically the same. The bigger the name, the bigger the dating pool.”

  “Which do you use?”

  “Right now, I’m using LoveFinders.com.”

  “I haven’t looked at that one.”

  “It’s a moderately sized regional service. The website is pretty easy to navigate and the price is comparable.”

  He typed in the site and watched two hearts meet in the middle of the screen and explode into a parade of pictures of happy couples. He felt nauseous and had to force himself to stay seated. “Why do they assault you with these dopey pictures? I’d rather not sign up if I end up looking like that.”

  “They look happy, Craig. They look like well-adjusted men and women who found love online. We probably wouldn’t qualify for well-adjusted.”

  He watched her take a sip and set the beer down. “What?” she asked.

  “You don’t think you’re well-adjusted?”

  “On some levels, yes. In the dating arena, absolutely not.”

  “Well, Allie. Honesty sounds good on you.” And looked good on her, too. She was open and relaxed and sitting a little too close.

  “I certainly don’t have to worry about hurting your feelings.” She pointed at the screen. “The first thing you want to do is set up your profile.”

  He clicked on the profile link and scowled at the screen. He’d probably have to fork over less information if he were applying for a concealed handgun permit. “Why do they need to know all this?”

  “They just do. You get to control what other people see on your profile page.”

  He began typing in his information. Name, address, profession…

  “Frances?” she said. “Your middle name is Frances?”

  He lifted his fingers from the keyboard. “You know, I don’t think I need your help after all.”

  “I’m just kidding, Frank.”

  “Seriously, Allie. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Touchy.” She clasped her hands between her legs and shivered. “It’s freezing in here.”

  “I like it cold.”

  “This is beyond cold, Craig. This house is like a meat locker.”