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Instead of looking grateful, however, she stiffened. “That’s a really nice offer, but did you forget that I have a lease?”
He vaguely remembered her talking about a lease last night. He was hoping that in his sleep-deprived state he’d imagined it. “Okay, you’ve got clothes on today, so let’s see it.”
She ignored his dig, then reached into her backpack and handed him a single sheet of paper.
He scrolled down to the bottom line to see his mother’s large, bold signature. Then his gaze hit on another line in the middle of the page. “You’re paying five hundred dollars to lease this house? For the entire summer?”
“Yep. And the check’s already been cashed, mister.” She smiled, and it could only be described as ridiculously smug. Maybe even a little bit sexy. It was the attitude, he realized. Blondie didn’t take shit from anyone. Luke wasn’t sure whether he wanted to put her in her place. Or kiss her.
“Five hundred is a joke and you know it,” he said. “I could rent this place out for a thousand a week. Minimum.”
“True. But you didn’t. And neither did your mother, who, I understand from your sister, has complete authority over this house in your absence.”
“Okay. So how about I give you your five hundred back and add in another five hundred for your trouble.”
“And what? Move out of here? Sorry, but no can do. I’ve already tried to find another place, but there’s nothing decent within a reasonable driving distance in my price range. Besides, I’m only here for five more weeks. Why don’t you come back then?”
Come back in five weeks? Who did she think she was? This was his house! He wanted to laugh in her face, but she was dead serious.
He was about to tell her what he thought of her little plan when she sighed dramatically. “Or we could just share the place.”
“Share?”
“Yeah. It’s that thing they teach in kindergarten when you want to play with all the toys yourself? You were right. Five hundred dollars for the summer was a steal, so I’ll even let you have your bedroom back. I have an inflatable mattress I keep in the trunk of my car that I can set up in the extra room. Like I said, I work a lot of hours at The Bistro. We probably won’t even see one another.”
She kept an inflatable mattress in the trunk of her car? That seemed strange. Or maybe not. Maybe she was used to crashing at other people’s places. The idea of sharing his beach house with her, or anyone else for that matter, was unacceptable. His mother’s signature on that lease made things difficult. Still, there had to be a way around it.
“Let me think about it.”
The look on her face said he could think all he wanted but he didn’t have any choice. She picked up her backpack. “I’m going to the library, then to the grocery store. Want anything?”
“You don’t mind? I’d go myself but…” He shrugged.
“Yeah, I know. You don’t want anyone to know you’re here. No problem. Just give me a list.”
Chapter Five
It was easy to see how Mr. Six-Pack-Abs kept that body of his so ripped. Sarah read the nutritional breakdown on the back carton of the most “vital” food on his grocery list (he’d underscored the item three times in red ink)—some kind of organic protein powder that she’d been surprised to find the Piggly Wiggly actually carried. The rest of his order was equally uninspiring—lots of free-range chicken, fresh fruits, soy milk, and veggies. No wonder he’d gone gaga over her mac and cheese. Not that Sarah had anything against eating healthy, but a person had to splurge their culinary taste buds once in a while.
She headed over to the produce aisle, adding her own things to the cart—a whole chicken (skin intact) along with a bag of small red potatoes, some lemons and rosemary, and a few other fresh herbs. Each week she experimented with a different recipe for her food truck. Roasted chicken was one of her signature dishes but probably too fussy to include on a food truck menu. She’d make this for herself and bring Lucy the leftovers.
She was waiting in the checkout line, reading the latest news on Justin Timberlake (sigh!) when an attractive older woman came up behind her.
“Are you Sarah?” She was tall and well-dressed, probably in her early- to mid-sixties with perfectly-coifed brown hair and sharp blue eyes that reminded Sarah of a hawk glaring down at its prey. A twinge of uneasiness skated up her spine. Oh, boy. She’d seen those eyes before. Less than an hour ago, to be exact. Of all the people to run into at the Piggly Wiggly!
Sarah carefully put the fan magazine back in its rack, hoping against hope that she was wrong about this woman’s identity. “I’m sorry, have we met?”
“Miranda from the deli pointed you out to me. I’m Ann Powers, Mimi’s mother.”
Sarah automatically placed her hand out. Ann Powers had a firm, almost masculine grip. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Mimi has been fantastic. And, um, thank you so much for everything. The beach house, I mean.” Sarah could feel herself blabbering.
“I would have come by and introduced myself. I watch the house for my son but my husband and I just got back from a trip to Maine. Normally, we don’t rent out Luke’s beach house, but well…I’m glad it’s not just sitting there empty.” She not-so-discreetly eyed the contents of the grocery cart like she was taking inventory.
No need to get paranoid.
“My, that’s certainly an eclectic mix you have there,” Ann said, pointing to a bag of mini Snickers bars on top of some organic rice cakes. “It’s almost like you eat like two different people.”
“Well, you know how it is.” She laughed nervously. “One day you diet, then the next day you splurge!”
