Virginia Andersen there?” It was a man’s deep voice, one that sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place.
“This is she.”
“This is the same Virginia Andersen who did the Rosecove Inn?”
“Yes, I was the interior designer.” Rosecove had been her favorite job. There was something special about that little ocean-side inn with its own private beach. It had been one of her first big jobs, and the owner had taken a chance on her. She’d be forever grateful for that chance. When she’d showed her parents the pictures of it afterward they had been impressed. She didn’t need their praise to feel validated, but it sure was nice to have it.
“Good. I want you to decorate my house.”
“You do?” She tried to keep the surprise out of her voice. “Great! Are you interested in your entire home or just a few rooms?”
“The entire thing.”
Her heart beat a little faster as she changed the page on her notepad. This was just what she needed. A new client equaled a new opportunity. “How many bedrooms?”
“Six bedrooms. Five bathrooms.”
“Six bedrooms, five bathrooms?” Her voice squeaked. “How many square feet are we talking, Mr....”
“Mr. Bradley and seventeen thousand.”
“Square feet?” she squeaked. “Seventeen as in one more than sixteen and one less than eighteen.”
“Yes,” he said slowly, and she realized something was up. This was a joke... It had to be. She didn’t know whether to laugh at the absurdity of it all or cry, because for a moment she’d thought she had the job of her dreams.
“Your house is seventeen thousand square feet and you want me, who has decorated two inns and a slew of old ladies’ condos, to decorate it? Okay, Mr. Bradley, my mysterious benefactor, who are you really?”
“I’m Carlos Bradley.” His deep voice sounded slightly annoyed. “I have a house on Hideaway Island that I would like you to decorate.”
“Carlos Bradley! The sexy shortstop.” She laughed. “You look damn good in those uniform pants, Mr. Bradley. Tell me, how many squats does it take to get your behind that hard?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve got a great butt. One that I would very much like to squeeze one day.”
“Uh...I might let you one day, but I think we should at least meet first to talk about the house.”
“Your house. Right. I suppose I have an unlimited budget to decorate your massive mansion. Tell me, do you have a pool and a tennis court that need some jazzing up, too?”
“Yes to the unlimited budget and pool, and no to the tennis court.”
“Can I ask you a personal question, Carlos?”
“You told me you wanted to squeeze my ass, I think we’re at that stage in our relationship.”
“Do you really give gift baskets to all the women you sleep with after you’re done with them?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Where any self-respecting gossip seeker does. The internet. There was a picture of one and everything.”
“I don’t give every woman a gift basket.”
“It depends on how good they are in bed, huh?”
“What?”
She giggled. She would think this was a mean joke if she weren’t so entertained by it. “You can drop the act now. Are you one of Asa’s friends? You’ve done a great job mimicking the voice. I’m impressed.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Andersen, but this is really Carlos Bradley and I really am calling to see if you will decorate my house.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “And I was on the cover of the swimsuit issue.”
“I’m not joking.”
“No? Well, if you aren’t joking and you are Mr. MVP with the sexy round behind and the sleazy parting gifts, then I expect a town car waiting for me here at ten tomorrow morning and a private plane taking me to Hideaway Island. I could take the ferry, but why should I? You can afford to fly me out.”
“A private plane?”
“Yup and chocolate. I would like a basket of Swiss chocolates waiting for me when I get there.”
“Fine. 10:00 a.m. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Great! See ya then.” She hung up the phone. Asa had gotten her good. She was going to have fun getting him back.
The next morning Virginia was sitting in her office thumbing through her recently delivered design magazines when a man in a black suit and cap came through the door.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m here to pick up Virginia Andersen.”
She blinked at the man for a moment. He certainly was wearing a driver’s uniform complete with a name tag. “Pick me up for what?”
“I’m Mr. Bradley’s Miami driver. He asked me to take you to the airstrip. There will be another driver waiting for you to take you to his house.”
“What?” She laughed. “You’re here to take me to the airstrip?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked confused for a moment and then glanced at his watch. “The pickup was requested for ten o’clock. Is that correct?”
“Um...” She thought back to the phone call yesterday. She had requested a 10:00 a.m. pickup along with a long list of ridiculous things. Her brother had sworn he wasn’t playing a joke on her when she’d called him last night. She hadn’t believed him. He was the same guy who used to throw spiders at her when they were kids. She wouldn’t put a phone call past him, but this...this was too much. “I did say ten.”
“Do you need more time, ma’am?”
“No.” She stood up, grabbing her handbag from beneath her desk. “I just need to lock up. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“I’ll be waiting outside.” He turned to leave.
“Wait! You aren’t an ax murderer, are you?”
“No,” he said slowly, pulling out his wallet. “I can show you my credentials.” He showed her his employee ID and his driver’s license.
“You probably think I sound crazy. You probably are just doing what you are paid to do and have nothing to do with this whatsoever. I’ll be out in a moment. Thank
