“Sammy,” Liv admonished her. “Where are your manners? You can’t demand things like that. You don’t know if Van will invite us back again.”
Sammy looked at her mother as if she was crazy. “He will, Mommy. He likes us a lot. I know this. I saw him kiss you earlier. You told me that’s what adults do when they like someone,” she protested. “And if he made me a bookshelf, I bet he can make a cushion.”
Liv stiffened as I laughed at Sammy’s logic and Liv’s reaction to the kissing statement.
“Well, I can’t Mouse. But I bet if I asked my mom, she could make you one. She loves to sew things.”
She jumped off the window seat. “Can you phone her and ask?”
“Samantha Rourke!” Liv gasped.
I wrapped my arms around Liv’s waist and tugged her back. “I met your mom,” I murmured into her ear. “Only fair you meet mine.”
She glanced up. “I wish you wouldn’t encourage this behavior. This isn’t like her at all.”
I knew Sammy was watching us. Purposely, I leaned down and kissed Liv. Full on the mouth—a lingering, sweet kiss. Lifting my head, I met Sammy’s pleased gaze. “I do like your mom, Mouse. I like you too. In fact, I think I’m going to be around a lot—what do you think about that?”
She didn’t look surprised, instead, settling down on the wood seat and crossing her arms. “I’m good.”
“Okay, let’s call my mom about the cushion.”
The call turned into a visit. My mom showed up a short time later, arms filled with material and her inquiring mother face firmly in place.
I introduced them, watching my mom’s reaction closely.
“Mom, this is Liv and Sammy. Liv, this is my mom.”
“Mrs. Morrison, it’s so nice to meet you.” Liv held out her hand.
My mom brushed it off, pulling her in for a hug. “Nonsense. It’s Lila.” She lowered herself to Sammy. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Sammy.”
Sammy grinned at her. “Mr. Van calls me Mouse. Are you really his mom? He’s so big! How did you carry him when he was my age?”
My mom laughed and took her hand. “He wasn’t always so big. I’ll show you pictures later.” She winked. “And he still isn’t too big for me to handle.”
Sammy giggled. I watched fondly as my mom peppered Liv and Sammy with questions, discovering more about them in thirty minutes than I had found out in a year. Sammy had an equal number of questions for her. By the end of her visit, my mom loved Sammy. She loved Liv. It was as if she had known them for years, not hours. And not only had Sammy firmly ensconced herself in my mom’s heart, we had another willing and eager babysitter.
“I’ll take her anytime!” she exclaimed. “You two need alone time. I need Nanna time.”
Sammy’s eyes were huge. “Nanna? Can I call you Nanna?”
My mom didn’t hesitate. “Nanna Lila. Yes.”
I had held back my groan since Liv seemed fine with it. She had smiled and laughed at Sammy’s enthusiasm. Mom also insisted she needed to meet Elly as soon as possible.
“Mom would enjoy meeting you too,” Liv replied.
“Good. As soon as she’s back from Florida, we’ll have you all for dinner.”
I didn’t bother to object. There was no point, and besides, I was happy they were going to meet. Anything that kept Liv and Mouse close was good.
There was much discussion about the window cushion. I went downstairs once the words pink and sparkly were mentioned. I had a feeling it wasn’t going to apply only to the cushion. My man card was in serious jeopardy of being revoked once Sammy and my mom got their hands on the spare room.
Still, I was okay with it. If Sammy was in the room, it meant Liv was here with me.
Win-win.
Tuesday morning, I frowned at my phone and the text that arrived.
Running late. Sammy is sick and waiting for backup.
I responded right away.
It’s fine. Take care of Mouse, and if you can’t make it, you can meet with them another time. I hope she’s okay.
Her reply came back a few moments later.
A bit of the stomach flu, I think. Going around day care. My neighbor is going to sit with her while I come to the meeting, then will work from home this afternoon. Please apologize for me for being late. Be there asap.
I shook my head. She was always so conscientious.
All is fine. Take your time.
Jordan came in, carrying two cups of coffee. He set one on my desk. “I spoke to Sandy. She’s sending the guys down. I told her not to bother escorting them.” He frowned. “Danishes aren’t ready. I’ll go grab some later.”
I smirked. “Not ready, or you didn’t want to be forced to share them with the people from WIN?”
He winked. “You know me too well.”
I ran a hand over my face. “I haven’t even looked at the file. Yesterday was crazy.”
I had gone to the building with my dad, checking and measuring the various kinds of molding. Afterward, we had met with the company about matching the stain and the cuts. I had spent the afternoon putting out fires at one of the other places I was trying to finish up so I could concentrate on this huge project for Bentley. I had ended the day by meeting with my crews and turning over some other projects to my most trusted foremen. I would be available if needed, but as Bentley said, it was time to test their wings. The way he was going, we would all be busy for months to come. I had also spoken with the band, and we all agreed to take a break from any more gigs for a while until my schedule lightened up. I had barely had time to text Liv and hadn’t seen her at all yesterday. Hearing Mouse was sick wasn’t a great start to the day.
He waved his hand. “All under control. Today is simply to sit down, meet face-to-face. Then tomorrow we’ll meet on site and go through everything step-by-step.” He smirked. “After that, I’m done. I’ll turn it over to you, and you can run the show.”
“Liv is going to be late. Sammy is sick, and she’s waiting on someone to look after her so she can get here.”
“Kids,” he deadpanned. “They bugger up plans all the time.”
Before I could respond, there was a knock at the door. Two men stood, waiting for an invitation to come in. I stood at the same time Jordan did. The older man walked in, tall and confident. His hair was silver, and his eyes pale blue and shrewd. He offered his hand.
“John Peters, owner of WIN.”
I accepted his handshake. “Vince Morrison.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you. All good, of course. I’m looking forward to seeing if your reputation holds true.”
I inclined my head, letting his words pass. It felt like a challenge, and I refused to rise to the bait. I wasn’t concerned with my reputation or his opinion. He was obviously all business, and it was fine with me—I could be the same way.
The other man stood back, his hands clasped behind his back. His dark-blond hair was slicked back, and his brown eyes were cool, but strangely familiar. He wasn’t as big or as broad as me, but his stance was tall. His lips were pinched in a frown, and judging from the lines on his forehead, I guessed it was an expression he wore a lot.