Any Way You Dream It Page 3

“So, tell me about yourself, Lucy.”

  “I’m the production manager for a chain of food trucks, call Pied Piper Pies. We’re about to go national.”

  “How exciting.” She smiled at me. “And where are you from?”

  “New Hampshire, but I went to UNH and then moved down to Boston. I’ve been here about five years now.”

  “Family?’ She was certainly curious about me and not afraid to ask questions.

  “My folks are still in Maine. My sister and her kids are here in Boston. I moved here to be close to them.”

  “How sweet. I always wanted a sister.”

  “Brothers?”

  “Four. And two sons. I’ve been surrounded by men all my life.” She shrugged. “Still, I can’t complain. Generally speaking, they’ve been very kind to me.”

  The kettle whistled and I turned my attention to the task at hand.

  She directed me to a kitchen table near the floor-to-ceiling windows, and I carried the drinks over.

  “How long have you been staying with Chase?”

  “About a year now.”

  There was a story there, but I wasn’t one to pry. We sipped our tea and made small talk. She was a nice lady.

  “I spend a lot of my time bossing the gardeners around. And they spend a lot of their time muttering about me in Spanish. I haven’t had the heart to tell them I understand every word they’re saying because, of course they’re right, I am a complete pain in the butt.” She laughed. She had a nice sense of humor and seemed very comfortable in her own skin. That might be where Chase got his.

  “Do you mind if I go see what’s happening with the car?”

  “Of course not, honey. You go check that he’s got it in hand. Thanks for keeping me company.”

  “Pleasure.”

  I said it and realized it was true. If there was a dragon in the castle, she definitely wasn’t it.

  All I could see of Chase was his sneakers. He was under the car with only his feet sticking out. He’d unloaded half my belongings into the corner of the garage and that was about all I could tell about his progress.

  “Hey,” I said and heard him bang his head under the car. “Are you hurt, Manhattan?”

  He wheeled out on a board from under the car, rubbing his head. His dark hair was a ruffled mess. He had a smudge of grease on his chin, and he looked way too attractive. I needed to get my head screwed on right. There would be no ogling Chase Wentworth. “Luce, don’t sneak up on me again. That’s not a great place to get startled.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You’ve blown a head gasket.”

  “And that is?”

  “Major.”

  Crap. I guessed as much with the way my week was going. “Right, Okay.”

  “I can fix it, but we’ll need parts. Can’t order them until tomorrow. I can probably have it done for you by Wednesday.”

  “Don’t you have to work?”

  “I just finished an assignment. I’m going to Chicago on Thursday.”

  “You can’t spend your days off fixing my junk heap of a car.” Seriously, that was plainly not right.

  “Sure, I can.”

  “I felt weird when I thought it was something minor. This is too much. You don’t even know me.”

  He was sitting up now, staring at me. “That’s true, but what better way to get to know you than lure you to my home under the pretense of fixing your car?”

  “Seriously?”

  “No. Your car broke down, you needed help, and I like tinkering with cars. Getting to know you is a bonus. You have to work tomorrow, right? I can drop you home this afternoon.”

  “Actually, I have the day off.” I might as well come clean, well, partially clean; there would still be a few spots on the truth. “And I’m in the process of moving in above the kitchen to Piper’s old flat.”

  He looked at me, assessing the situation, and thumbed in the direction of the back of my car. “Hence, the bags.”

  “Hence.”

  “I can still drive you back to the city, or you can stay here for the night and I can take you back tomorrow.”

  “I can’t impose.”

  “Lucy, look around. It wouldn’t be an imposition. There’s plenty of room. You could think of it as a mini vacation.”

  It was an exceedingly long time since I’d stayed anywhere other than my sister’s place. “Well, maybe just for one night it would be okay if your mom won’t mind, Manhattan.”

  “She won’t mind. And stop calling me Manhattan,” he said, but I could tell by his smile he didn’t really care too much.

  He walked over to my bags and started picking them up. I followed suit, and between us, we were able to carry everything I owned into his house and up the stairs. He headed down the hallway to a room that was all white inside, like a fluffy cloud. A fluffy cloud with a view of the ocean.

  “Will this be suitable?”

  It was more than suitable. It was freaking awesome. It was so perfect I had the urge to jump up and down on the bed like a child. I didn’t because that would have been rude.

  “It’s wonderful. Thank you.” I looked around the room again. “I really am grateful you’re helping me. I’m clearly not very good a accepting help.”

  He dumped the bags in a corner. “We’ll have to work on that then. Bathroom is in here. And it has towels, and hopefully whatever else you might need.”

  An ensuite. All my life I had wanted a room with an ensuite. I’d just lived for five years in a house with four people and one bathroom. He couldn’t know how excited I was.

  “Let’s do a tour.” He led me down the hallway, his hands in his pockets as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. “Upstairs are all the bedrooms. I’m on the end.” He pointed to a room. “I use the one next to it as an office.”

  “Can I peek?”

  “Sure.” It was a standard office, but he also had a mini fridge and a coffee pot. “Sometimes, when I’m here alone, I lock myself away in these two rooms for a few days. It’s kind of a big house for one guy.”

  “Why do you have such a big house?” It was a good question. It was ridiculously large for one single male even if he was loaded.

  “It’s a long story, which maybe I’ll tell you sometime, but the very short version is that I inherited it from my dad.”

  “He didn’t leave it to your mom?”

  “They weren’t married any longer.”

  “I see.”

  “That’s part of the long story.”

  I followed him down the sweeping staircase, and we walked through the living room, drawing room, dining room, game room, then around to the kitchen.

  “Mom is staying in what were the servant’s quarters behind the kitchen, because, well, stairs aren’t her thing.”

  “And how do I get to a turret?”

  “Hang on, Princess, and I’ll show you.” He went to the fridge and swung it open. “I’m getting hungry. Are you?”

  Now that he mentioned it, that piece of toast she’d eaten back at Piper and Aaron’s felt like a long time ago. “Actually, I am.”

  “Cool.” He pointed to a large drawer under one of the cabinets. “You want to grab me a platter from there?”

  He then produced cheese, crackers, cold cuts, and fruit, and arranged them all on the platter. “Glasses.” He pointed to another cabinet and I grabbed some wine glasses. He then tucked a bottle of wine under his arm and headed off, platter in hand, leaving me to follow.

  We went up the sweeping staircase once again and along the corridor; where he kicked open a small door that I hadn’t even noticed before. Behind it was a staircase that wound around the turret to the top. There was a small door on the right which probably led to the parapet, but he headed past it to the turret. Inside the tower, was a circle of windows and a large window seat that ran along the perimeter. Apart from the door, there was a view in every direction from the south to Boston, out across the Atlantic, back inland, and north to Marblehead Harbor.

&
nbsp; “This is amazing.” It was the most gorgeous space I had ever seen in my life. Admittedly, my life had been pretty sheltered and I hadn’t travelled much, or stayed in many castles but that didn’t diminish the loveliness of the room.

  Chase put the platter down and took the wine glasses from me. “It’s pretty amazing, right?”

  “Whoever designed this, well, wow, its one thing to want something like this, but another to actually build it.”

  “My great-grandfather built it for my great-grandmother--the whole house, including this tower and the other one. All designed for her”

  “There’s another one?” Two turrets, amazing!

  “Yes, he built them to woo her.”

  “How romantic.”

  “It was. She didn’t want to marry him because, even though she loved him, she thought he was arrogant and self-absorbed and very focused on building his fortune, which was all true.’ He opened the wine while he talked and poured us each a glass. “So she said, ‘Do something to prove to me that you’ve been listening to me, and that you know who I am and what I like.’”

  “Wow, gutsy girl.”

  “She was. Anyway, he really had to think because the truth was, he did talk about himself and his business and his affairs a lot, and he wasn’t very attentive, but then he remembered her telling him about a book with a princess locked in a castle…”

  “So that’s what he built. I bet he wished he’d listened when she said she liked ice-cream or something simple.”

  Chase laughed. “Maybe, but when she saw the house, it looked exactly like the one in the book, and she agreed to marry him.”

  “And they lived happily ever after…” I sighed.

  “Let’s drink to that.” Our glasses clinked then we each took a sip. His eyes stayed on mine a beat too long. “Of course, that’s not true.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No. He was the selfish jerk she thought he was.”

  “That’s terrible.” My heart sank. I was really in the mood for a happily-ever-after.

  “Yep. I come from a long line of selfish jerk males. That’s why I’m never getting married. It’s like a family curse I need to break.”

  “So you’ve vowed to maintain a life of celibacy?” I teased.

  “Hey, whoa steady on Lucy, nobody said anything about celibacy, only marriage.” He chuckled.

  “Well, good for you.”

  “Good for you? Most women try to convince me I’m a fool and that love will win out.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not most women, Manhattan.”

  “No, Princess, I guess you’re not.” We both sat on the seat but there was plenty of room, so no need to get close. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Were you really driving back to the kitchen to move in last night? That seems like a big call after a party, especially when you were there all day.”

  “Are your Spidey senses tingling?”

  “I’m a journalist; I know a cover-up when I see one.”

  Maybe I was tired, maybe the paradisiacal nature of the house was bewitching me… Who knows, but I decided to tell the truth. I shook my head. “I was planning to sleep in my car, as I did the night before. I lived with my sister for five years and we had a fight so I moved out with nowhere to go.”

  “You slept in your car?” He looked horrified.

  “It was just one night and I get up at four in the morning, so it wasn’t even a whole night when you think about it.”

  His face was ashen and serious he leaned over and grabbed my hand. “Lucy, don’t ever do that again. That is not safe. Please promise me you’ll come here or call someone.”

  “Thanks, but it won’t happen again. Anyway, Piper reminded me about the kitchen today. I would have talked to her yesterday, but she was so excited about the party and I didn’t want to ruin her day.” I wasn’t promising him anything.

  “That’s very sweet but…not smart.” He indicated that I should help myself, so I loaded up a cracker. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here now.”

  “Thanks for having me. I know I seem tragic and hopeless, but I’m normally a very together person. It’s perhaps that you met me on the worst weekend of my life.” I looked out over the ocean and had to admit my weekend was looking a lot better now.

  “Lucy, I have no doubt that you are one of the most together people I’ve ever met.”

  We sat there in amicable silence for a while. Maybe I had misjudged his confidence for arrogance.

  A large yacht sailed past. There was something majestic about its crisp white sails against the blue ocean.

  “Do you sail, Manhattan?”

  “Yeah, I do. You?”

  I gave him a chuckle because it was a ludicrous question to me. I guess he was used to hanging out with people for whom it wasn’t “Ah no.”

  “Is that due to lack of interest or lack of opportunity?”

  “Hmm, a little of both.” I took another sip of my very nice one. “I wouldn’t mind trying it. I’m not against the idea, but I also haven’t ever really thought about it. Maybe if I’d grown up here, I’d feel differently.”

  “Maybe. I didn’t grow up here, though.”

  “No? I’d assumed.”

  “It’s a story for another time, so how about we take a stroll around town tonight, hit the pub, have some dinner?’

  “Sure.” Truthfully, I had never been here, and I thought I may as well treat it like a little mini-break. It was more like a mini-escape from reality. “That sounds nice.”

  “I don’t suppose you want to discuss what happened with your sister?”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks. It’s a bit raw and I’m still processing. Do you have siblings?”

  “I have a brother and two half-sisters.” He was tight-lipped, his face pinched. He didn’t want to discuss it either.

  “All right, let’s stay off family, except maybe your mom. It might be hard to avoid her.”

  “Not that hard. She’s easy to outrun, or you just come up here.”

  “That. Is. Terrible.” I was shocked. “The poor woman is in a wheelchair.”

  “I’m only joking. I love my mother. She’s about the only sane person in my whole family.”

  “Apart from you?”

  “No, including me.” He smiled. “More wine?”

  Sure, why not let a crazy man in a tower pour me more wine? What did I have to lose at this point? I was homeless, carless, and I’d lost my family. Bring it on.

  I took another look at Chase, and he was certainly very cute. Not my type, but if I had a type, which, given how infrequently I had dated in the past few years, I definitely did not. Yes, he was arrogant and over-confident, but looking around his home, I could see why. Who wouldn’t be feeling good about themselves if they were good-looking, an Ivy League graduate, and had more money than God?

  “So you’re a journalist?”

  “Freelance. Mostly lifestyle pieces I do on spec or get commissioned for.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  He chuckled. “Sorry. Jargon. Sometimes I get asked to write a piece and sometimes I see a story I want to write, and then I write it and try to sell it. So, say I go to New Hampshire and canoe the rivers, I might write a piece on that and sell it to a travel magazine.”

  “Isn’t that kind of risky? What if no one wants your articles?”

  “Well, they usually do.” There was that arrogance again. “I mostly do commissioned pieces these days. I did lots of spec work in the start to build up my reputation. It didn’t cost the magazines or papers anything up front. They got to test drive me for free.”

  I smiled. “Not an option for everyone.”

  “Nope, but I’m lucky like that. And I can actually write, which is why I now get commissioned work.”

  The wine was nice and I was starting to feel drowsy. I guess sleeping in the car and then a night of partying was taking its toll. I let out a lazy yawn. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. How rude of me.”

  “Don�
��t be silly. Why don’t you take a nap for a while? We can head out about six. We’ll hit the pub and I’ll show you the town. That is, if you’ve never been here before.”

  I shook my head. “Nope, never. That sounds fun. Thanks by the way, for being so nice to me.”

  “No problem, but I’m not really that nice. Your first impressions of me were probably accurate.”

  “So you are an arrogant, self-centered jerk?”

  “Absolutely.” He grinned at me. “Now go rest up so you can listen to me talk about myself all night over dinner in the tradition of arrogant jerks the world over.”

  “Okay, Manhattan, have it your way,” I said over my shoulder as I took the stairs.

  In the background, I could hear him mutter, “Don’t call me, Manhattan.”

  Chapter 4

  It was the softest bed I had ever slept on in the nicest room I had ever slept in. The past few days had more than caught up with me and I was exhausted. If it hadn’t been rude, I would have pulled the covers over my head and stayed where I was when the alarm on my phone went off at six o’clock.

  I didn’t, of course. I went into the marble bathroom which was more like a fancy hotel, replete with French toiletries, and I had a fabulous shower. I slipped on a yellow and white halter-neck sundress, some cute, beaded sandals, and grabbed a denim jacket. It was a warm summer’s night, but we were by the ocean and some places do love to crank up their air-conditioning.

  Chase was downstairs in the kitchen talking to his mother in hushed tones. I stopped outside the door, not sure whether to walk in or let them talk.

  “It’s time, Mom.”

  “I’m not ready, honey.”

  “I think you are. I understand you’re scared, but you need to get on with your life.”

  “You just want to get rid of me.” She sniffed.

  “No, I don’t. I want you to get back to your life and your friends.”

  “It isn’t like before, though.”

  “I know, but I still think you should try. You can always come back here. You know that. I simply want you to try.” Was he being kind or just a jerk who wanted to get rid of his mother so he could live here in the Playboy mansion alone?

  “I’ll think about it.”