Chapter Nineteen
Tuesday quickly shaped up to be one of those crazy days where Mia was on the run from house to house with so little time to spare between showings that she got neither breakfast nor lunch. Not even, she thought with a whimper of longing for her espresso machine in the office’s break room, a cup of decent coffee to jump-start her motor.
A motor that was both roaring to life whenever she thought of Ford and then sputtering as she forcefully reminded herself not to repeat her mistakes by falling so fast and hard for him again. They hadn’t done more than kiss a little on the blanket in his yard, but even that had been so overwhelming to her senses that she’d ended up accepting a client’s last minute request to do an impromptu showing just to have some space away from Ford to think.
She’d tried to be rational about everything he’d done, everything he’d said since he’d reappeared in her life on Friday morning, but rational thinking had never been her forte where Ford was concerned. Plus, it was one thing when he was coming at her with straight-ahead seduction in mind. Honestly, though she wanted him like crazy, she could have discounted that.
But knowing he wanted them to be friends first?
Way to cut right through to my heart, rock star.
Still, while he’d been on her mind nearly every second since they’d parted the day before, she wasn’t at all prepared to walk through the front door of Sullivan Realty and find him sitting in the lobby, his long legs kicked out in front of him as he chatted easily with her receptionist.
“There you are.” He slowly unfurled his gorgeous body from the chair and gave her a look full of so much heat that she was pretty sure her hair was in danger of catching fire. “Got a minute?”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or yell at him for surprising her like this. Why hadn’t he called her to say he needed to meet? Not only had she just sold him a really expensive house, but they were—
She sighed. That was just what they were trying to figure out, wasn’t it? Were they ex-lovers? Budding friends?
Or more?
“Of course. Go on into my office. I’ll be there in just a second and we can talk about what you need.”
He studied her for a minute. “How about I make you a cup of coffee on my way there?”
She nearly groaned in anticipation of the caffeine-induced relief. “Please. The machine is in the break room. Orlando can show you the way.”
As soon as he disappeared into the main part of the office as if he owned the place, Betsy said, “I’m sorry, I wanted to send you a text to let you know he was here. But he insisted we wait until you were done with your showings. I think—” Her receptionist abruptly cut herself off as though she didn’t want to speak out of turn.
“I’d very much like to know what you think,” Mia told the woman she liked a great deal and trusted to deal with all incoming calls and potential clients.
“I think there wasn’t anywhere else he wanted to go. Because despite a few random walk-ins asking for his autograph when they realized who he was, I got the sense that he felt comfortable here.”
“How long has he been waiting?”
“About an hour.”
“Ford was sitting here for an hour?”
“Honestly, the time flew by. We got to talking about my kids and grandkids, and he was full of questions about local schools and Little League teams and gymnastics classes. Does he have children?”
“No,” Mia said, but as she thought about what he’d said to her when they were walking through the house he’d just bought, she added, “Not yet.”
Through the mostly glass walls of her office, she could see Ford laughing with one of her extremely star-struck employees. Orlando was doing a much better job of holding it together today, but everyone else was practically trembling with excitement. Clearly, Ford was not good for her employees’ productivity. But maybe that was okay, because his presence clearly made them all so happy.
Sure, she had a couple of big stars in her family, but she’d never seen someone who wasn’t a blood relation deal so well with fame. Where other musicians she’d worked with to find property in Seattle had made absolutely certain that she never forgot for one second whom she was dealing with, Ford seemed to go out of his way to do exactly the opposite.
“Thank you for keeping him company, Betsy.”
“It was my pleasure,” the older woman said with an uncharacteristic blush. “He’s not exactly hard on the eyes, is he?”
“No,” Mia said with a laugh at just what an understatement that was. “He certainly isn’t.”
* * *
Ford had the steaming cup of espresso waiting for her when she walked into her office.
She grabbed it from him with a gasp of “Thank God,” then immediately took a sip.
“Damn,” he said, “I never thought I’d be jealous of a cup of coffee. But I’m not sure you’ve ever looked at me quite like that before.”
Thankfully, she could already feel the kick from the blessed triple espresso he’d made her as she pinned him with a raised eyebrow. “You didn’t wait with Betsy in the front room for an hour to fish for compliments, did you?”
“No,” he confirmed. “I came because seeing you is the best part of every day.”
Even as his sweet words warmed her, she said, “And?”
“I mean it, you know. Seeing you makes everything a thousand times better. Even when I know I can’t touch you because all of your employees are watching us.” He grinned at her and she was already charmed despite herself as he admitted, “But since you mention it, there is something I’d really like you to help me with.”
“Is there a problem with the house?”
“Nope, the house is great. I was filming a promo at EMP this morning for the Seattle show this Saturday, and the manager was talking about all the kids who come through the music section of the museum and don’t really want to go home at the end of the day when they’re locking up.” Ford’s eyes shuttered. “I was one of those kids, and I know if I’d had a place like that to hang out in, all that music history, all that inspiration from the original Experience Music Project building, it would have helped.” When he looked back at her, his eyes were clear again. And full of excitement. “I want to open a place in Seattle for kids to come and play music with each other. A rock camp. We’ll bring in musicians, local ones and some of the big-time guys, too, who owe me some favors.”
“It sounds amazing, Ford.” His excitement was infectious.
“It will be, but I need you to help me find the perfect space.”
“I’m already two steps ahead of you.” As soon as he started telling her about his idea, she’d mentally flipped through a few of the available commercial spaces near the EMP Museum. She quickly pulled them up on her computer and printed out the two top contenders. “How do these look?”
He scanned the info and nodded. “How quickly can we get into them? Any chance you’re free now?”
She whistled through her teeth. “Wow, you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“I’d like to announce the project at Saturday’s show if I can.”
Of course she wasn’t free. But somehow Ford kept convincing her to bend all of her usual rules without even trying.
“Orlando,” she said when she’d buzzed her assistant, “is there any chance you could take over another couple of showings this afternoon?”
Orlando was clearly more than ready for the additional responsibility she kept giving him, and as he greeted Ford, then gleefully went off to find her clients great homes, she knew she’d need to start looking for a new assistant soon so that she could let Orlando join the ranks of her other full-time Realtors.
“I’m pretty sure rock stars like you should be spending all their time partying in bathtubs full of champagne and groupies, not creating a musical haven for kids,” she said right before they jumped into a cab outside her office. “You keep surprising me.”
“I was a stupid kid before.”
“We both were.” Still, though she knew both of them had grown up over the past five years, and she’d forgiven him for the way he’d left her, there were still some sore spots inside.
Sitting beside him in the backseat, she felt as if there were a magnet trying to pull their hands together. Stubbornness dictated that she keep her hand on her lap even though she knew how good it would feel to slide her fingers into his.
“One thing I should probably mention,” he said just she was about to open the cab door in front of the museum, which was a block from each of the properties in either direction, “there’s going to be a small film crew with us this afternoon.”
“A film crew? You told the press we’re going to be looking at these properties?”
“No.” He looked a little uncomfortable. “There’s a documentary being made about my music. Natasha was at the museum this morning filming when we came up with the idea for the camp.” By the time he finished explaining, he had already pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Forget I mentioned it. I’m going to tell her it’s a no go this afternoon.”
On a soft curse, she put her hand over his to stop him from calling off the film crew. “I’ve never known anyone who pushes as hard as you.” Mia sighed as she worked through her frustration at having cameras sprung on her. “But I’m sure she’s right and you should get this on film. You’re doing something big, something important.” But since she’d agreed to be his Realtor that also meant that she might also be forever caught on film with Ford, regardless of what happened between them in the future. “I can deal with the film crew.”
Her fingers were barely wrapped around the door handle again when he said, “There’s one other thing I should probably mention.”
Of course there was, she thought as she looked back over her shoulder at him. “What now?”
“Natasha already knows who you are.” Before she could ask how, he explained, “While she was going through old clips, she found a couple of us from the night we met. I hadn’t told her about you, hadn’t told her anything at all about my personal life. But she saw you and she knew.” The cab driver was clearly riveted by their conversation, but neither Mia nor Ford gave a damn right then. “She confronted me about how I could possibly have been stupid enough to let you go when you obviously meant everything to me.”
Mia’s head was spinning. “That’s why you came back.” Her words were barely above a whisper.
“She helped give me the final push, but I was the one who finally owned up to the fact that I’d wanted to come back every day for five years. I’m sorry it took me that long to let my pride go. More sorry than you’ll ever know.” He scowled. “Pride could have ruined everything if I’d let it.”
He was right about pride, about the way it could ruin lives. And she knew she needed to do some heavy thinking about her own pride where Ford was concerned. Because while it was one thing to be careful about not making the same mistake a second time, it was another entirely to be stubborn simply for the sake of winning. Especially if “winning” meant not being with him.
Unfortunately, by then the cab driver was starting to look really closely at Ford, and the last thing she wanted was her very personal conversation with one of the world’s biggest rock stars to end up on TMZ tonight. It would be too easy for the driver to grab his cell phone and record the rest of their conversation. Thinking back, she was pretty sure they hadn’t said each other’s names or what either of them did for a living. At this point, it would be pure speculation on the driver’s part that he’d had a rock star in the back of his car.
Nodding in the driver’s direction, she said, “Thanks for the ride.” Turning back to Ford, she said, “Let’s go, Jeffrey. We’re late for that documentary they’re filming about your secret acne problem.”
Ford was laughing as he slammed the door shut behind them. “Jeffrey? Acne?”
She patted his perfect face. “Don’t worry, you’ll grow out of it one day. If the girls are smart, they’ll wait for you.”
He was still laughing when she went to say hello to the intelligent woman who was standing beside two men with big cameras. “You must be Natasha. I’m Mia. I hear you’re the one who’s responsible for bringing you-know-who back into my life.”
“And?”
Mia looked back at Ford, and as a group of tourists coming out of the EMP Museum recognized him and surrounded him, she said, “The jury’s still out.”
She’d always admired how great he was with his fans, but this time Mia wished he wasn’t quite so friendly as they vied for autographs. Some of the women were standing just a little too close...and when one of them asked him if he would sign her breasts, Mia’s hands actually fisted at her sides.
So far this week they’d only been together at the tower house, her cousin’s winery in Napa, and her office. How could she have forgotten that women threw themselves at him everywhere he went? Or that groupies would do anything to try to get Ford into bed with them.
She’d never been an insecure woman, but who wouldn’t be threatened by that? No matter how over the past she thought she was.
“I’ve been on the road with Ford for months,” Natasha said, “but do you know one of the first things that really struck me about him?”
Mia could barely drag her narrowed gaze away from the fan who by now was practically topless. “What’s that? How talented he is?”
Natasha shook her head. “That he never once went off with a groupie or brought one onto his bus.”
Now the other woman had her full attention. “Never?”
“Nope. Not even once. When I realized he wasn’t even the slightest bit interested in the girls who threw themselves at him, I knew for sure that he was one of the good ones. And,” Natasha added after a weighted pause, “that was when I also knew that his heart must already belong to someone.”
“You’re not just making this documentary about him because it’s your business, are you?” Mia studied the redhead with new eyes. “You’re his friend, too.”
Natasha nodded. “He’s an easy man to like.”
And to love, Mia found herself thinking before she could stop herself.