thinks what she’s doing is for the good of one of her children, there’s no stopping her. There’s no getting her to see the light and admit that she’s got it all wrong.”
“But making up some big old lie is not the answer. It’s…just not you. You’re a straight-ahead guy. No frills and no fancy footwork. I’ve always liked that about you.”
He laid it right out for her. “Sam, I’m desperate. I need a break from this garbage. I need to be able to go home for once without having a bunch of sweet-faced Texas debutantes in their best party dresses lined up waiting to meet me. I need to be able to call my mom without being beat over the head with all the women she wants to introduce me to.”
“Maybe if you just gave it a chance with one of them, you’d find out that—”
“Stop. Don’t go there. You know I’m not up for that. I had the love of my life. She died. And I already tried it with the woman who could never take her place.”
“But it’s been years and years since you lost Rachel. And just because it didn’t work out with Wanda doesn’t mean there isn’t someone else out there who’s right for you.”
He gave her a really dirty look, and then he glanced away. “You’re starting to sound like my mother. I don’t need that.”
“Travis, I only—”
He turned to meet her eyes again. “Help me out, Sam. Help me out and I’ll help you out. Win-win. You’ll see. You can have the new life you’ve been dreaming of. All you have to do to get it is a little favor for a friend.”
Chapter Two
A week and a day later, Sam entered the lobby of Houston’s Four Seasons Hotel.
She wore a gray pantsuit with a white blouse and black flats. Not exactly glamorous. But hey. At least it was something other than coveralls, steel-toed boots and a hard hat.
Unfortunately, her hair was being really annoying that day. It was only an inch long, for cripes’ sake. But still, it insisted on curling every which way.
Her makeup? She wore none—and not because she hadn’t tried. Three times, she’d applied blush, lip gloss and mascara. She’d picked those up the day before at Walmart in an effort to look more pulled-together for this big adventure she probably shouldn’t have let herself be talked into in the first place. Each time she put the makeup on, she’d had to scrub it right off again. It just didn’t look right on her. So in the end, she decided to go without.
The Four Seasons was about the fanciest hotel in Houston. She’d expected old-fashioned elegance. But the lobby was modern. The furniture had clean, trendy lines. The carpets were in black-and-white geometric patterns. There was also bright color—in the modern art on the walls, in the purple pillows, all plump and inviting on the tan and off-white sofas.
And where the hell was Travis, anyway? He’d promised he would be here waiting for her.
She tried not to gape like the oversize hayseed she knew herself to be. She told herself it was all in her mind that the bellmen and concierge clerks were staring at her and wondering what she was doing there. What did a concierge clerk care if she was as big as a horse and every bit as muscular? So what if she looked more manly than most of the guys in the place? She had as much right to be there as anyone else.
And she did have her pride. Chin up, her black leather tote hooked on a shoulder, she sauntered past the checkin desk and chose a sofa thick with bright pillows beneath a giant circular chandelier dripping with about a hundred thousand crystals.
When she reached the sofa, she turned and lowered herself into it with care. She kept her knees together, her black flats planted on the thick carpet, neatly, side-by-side. Easing the tote off her shoulder, she put it at her feet. And then, sitting very still and very straight, she folded her hands in her lap and she waited.
She tried not to squirm, tried to keep her face calm and composed. The minutes crawled by.
Travis, you SOB, where are you?
He’d better get there damn soon or she wouldn’t be waiting when he finally did arrive. She pressed her lips together, swallowed, felt the nervous sweat beginning to seep through the underarms of her new shirt.
Wasn’t there some old saying about how a person should beware of all situations that require new clothes?
Uh, yeah. Exactly.
Travis, unless you show up right this minute, I am going to get up and walk out of here. And then, the next time I see you, I will beat the ever lovin’ crap out of you….
“Sam. Great. There you are….”
So. He was there. At last.
Sam let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Turning to look over her shoulder, she watched him striding toward her, wearing really nice black jeans and a sport jacket, looking like he owned the place. With him was a short, skinny man in a striped shirt with a big white collar, linen pants and suspenders. The man’s thick, wavy blond hair was bigger than he was. Sam could have picked him up with one hand, tucked him under her arm and carried him several city blocks without even breathing hard.
She snatched up her tote and rose to meet them.
“Lookin’ good,” said Travis. He grabbed her in a quick hug. When he let her go, he turned to the tiny, bird-boned guy with the big hair. “Jonathan, Sam. Sam, Jonathan.”
The little guy gave her the once-over through eyes as small and bright and birdlike as the rest of him. “Hello, Samantha. I can see we’ve got our work cut out for us.”
Her coach. Of course. Pretentious frickin’ twit. She started to say something to put him in his place, but then changed her mind. He might be pretentious, but then again, he was also right. No point in beating up the messenger. She had a lot to learn if she wanted a different kind of life. “Yeah,” she said drily. “I hope you’re up to the job.”
Travis said, “I found him on the internet. And I’m betting he’s the best.”
Jonathan tossed his big hair. “No time to waste, is there? Shall we go up?”
The suite was spectacular. All in relaxing colors—dusty greens and creamy tans and warm golds, with a great view of downtown Houston. Two bedrooms. One for her, one for her coach.
Travis had his town house in the city.
She stood at the window and looked out at the skyline and worried about how much this had to be costing him.
He came to stand with her. “Great view, huh?”
“Yeah. Where’s Jonathan?” she asked the question low, out of the corner of her mouth.
“He’s in his room, getting settled.”
She decided to go ahead and ask him about the expense. “This all looks…really pricey, Travis.”
“That’s right.” He sounded so pleased with himself. “Didn’t I promise you a crash course in how the other half lives?”
“I’m
