Love Sparkles in Fortune's Bay Page 5

  “You made me jump,” she said lightly. “Is it time for a snack?” She made to stand up.

  “Seriously, you don’t have to wait on me hand and foot. I’m perfectly capable of getting a soda from the refrigerator or chips from the cupboard.” He hovered, seeming unsure as to whether to come in. “Are you really involved in something or have you got a minute?”

  Piper examined his face, a look of apprehension clouding his handsome features. The first thought that came to her head was that he was about to fire her. “Sure, is everything okay?”

  He entered the room and came over to the desk. “Not going so great this afternoon?” He gestured to the rejected sketches on the floor.

  Piper shook her head. “No. I can’t seem to get the right look. Everything is either too fussy or too simple. I can’t seem to strike a balance.”

  Mal laughed. “Yeah, I understand that. I’m struggling to get this song to work.”

  “I thought it had gone a bit quiet over there.” Piper looked down at her latest sketch. “This is rubbish, as well.” She screwed it up and added it to the pile on the floor.

  “I might have something that could help.”

  Piper watched as Mal brought out what he had been hiding behind his back. He placed it in front of her and she stared at the black plastic box, adorned with a big red bow.

  “What’s that?”

  “A little something for you. To say I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting and to say thank you for stepping in to this job.”

  “You didn’t have to get me anything.” Piper frowned. What on earth was in the box?

  “Open it.” Mal gave her a shy smile.

  With slightly trembling fingers, she untied the bow and opened the catch. She pulled open the box and her mouth dropped open. Inside was the perfect array of tools to get her started on making the jewelry, when she came up with the perfect design, of course.

  “Oh my gosh, Mal! This is wonderful; you didn’t have to do this.” She jumped up and threw her arms around him without thinking. Nestled against his body, the aroma of his spicy aftershave caught in her nostrils and for a moment she was lost in the heady scent. He felt good too. Just as she thought she’d gone too far, he hugged her a little bit tighter. She drew back a little and looked up at him. His pupils were dilated, and she thought he was looking back at her with interest. She blinked; maybe she imagined it. He leaned down toward her, his hair tickling her face, and she held her breath. As his lips were about to meet hers, Piper’s phone started ringing. She and Mal sprang apart, both of them breathing a little heavier. Piper looked at the screen and saw her mother’s phone number flashing.

  She turned back to the desk to pick it up. “Mom, hi! Where are you? Hold on a second…” When she turned around to say thank you to Mal, he’d disappeared.

  It had been a long time since she’d had a proper conversation with her mother and they talked for a while. Josh had obviously filled her in on Piper’s job with Mal Colten.

  “I can’t believe you’re working for a real rock star,” Patty Jarrett said. “I understand there are a lot of unhappy people out there because of his tour cancellation.”

  “I think so.” Piper hadn’t discussed that with Mal—she didn’t think it her place. Her thoughts wandered back to their recent embrace. God, he felt amazing, strong, with a built torso and firm arms. What would have happened if her phone hadn’t rung? Would he have kissed her? Would she have responded?

  “We don’t really talk that much.” She heard herself lie to her mother. The last thing she wanted was a grilling about the situation. She didn’t know what to make of it herself. Piper only half listened as her mother went on about her and her father’s trip, the sights they’d seen, and the people they’d made friends with. Apparently, this whole senior gap year was a thing and there were lots of fifty-somethings doing the same. Patty and Brian were somewhere near Portland and their plan was to head up country to Seattle and then to Vancouver. Piper couldn’t remember when her mother sounded so excited about something. She certainly didn’t remember them being that intrepid when she was growing up. After promising to call her mother more, Piper finally hung up. The moment between her and Mal had gone, and she wondered whether they would ever have another one.

  Her eyes fell on the thoughtful gift he’d bought her. She picked up a couple of the tools and ran her fingers over the smooth steel.

  The inspiration she had been searching for struck.

  She sat back down at the desk and grabbed her pencil. After a few strokes, the design began to come together, intricate yet simple. It was the quickest design she had ever come up with. Piper sat back and stared at the sketch. If she could get the materials right, it would be perfect. And a certain near-miss in kissing Mal Colten had a hand in its creation.

  Chapter 12

  The door to the studio slammed shut behind him as Mal escaped across the hallway. He hoped Piper wouldn’t think he was upset with her. It was anything but; that short embrace affected him more than he knew. The fresh apple scent of her shampoo and the feel of her gentle curves was running through his mind. Those few seconds made him feel more alive than the few random hookups he’d had on tour. What was wrong with him? He’d barely known the woman for more than a few days and she was, effectively, his employee. Boyd and Therese would have a field day with it.

  He dragged a hand through his hair as if the action could knock some sense into his brain. Mal sank down on the couch and reached for the paper that contained the lyrics. The more he read through them, the more he realized what Piper was doing to him. He discarded the sheet and put his head in his hands.

  In the past, when he needed to talk to someone about girls to, he relied on his best friend Ethan to give him advice. Although he’d last asked Ethan about Cora Appleby, and look how that turned out. Plus, Ethan was currently somewhere in Europe on an extended working holiday. His friend was traveling from country to country, working in bars, bungee jumping, and partaking in all sorts of other athletic activities that Mal couldn’t even contemplate doing because of Boyd’s various insurances. He checked the time difference and discovered that it was a respectable hour to try and call.

  Mal grabbed his phone and found Ethan’s number. He listened as it connected to the international dial tone and rang and rang. Just as he was about to give up, Ethan answered. He sounded out of breath.

  “Mal! Buddy, how are you? Gimme a sec…”

  Mal heard Ethan cover the receiver and whisper something to the person he was with.

  “All yours,” said Ethan. “How’s it going? Apart from pissing off a massive amount of people?”

  “You heard about that even in Europe?”

  “You should know that I follow you religiously on every social media platform. I know everything, Mal, everything.”

  Not quite everything, thought Mal. He really needed to talk to Ethan about Piper—whether it was a sensible idea to make a move on her or whether it was a totally ridiculous idea that would break him.

  “Yet I know nothing about what’s going on with you right now. Was that a chick you were whispering to?” asked Mal.

  Ethan answered with a hearty laugh. Mal knew that his extremely handsome, well-built, cheery surfer-dude best friend would have women of all nationalities falling over him while he was away. He wouldn’t be questioning his feelings.

  “Ethan, I need a bit of advice,” he began.

  “I can’t think of anything that’s going to get you out of the financial hole you’ve just created for yourself with the tour cancellation. Unless you end up going on The Bachelor or something.”

  “It’s not that.” Well, not completely. That was a different problem that Mal needed help with, but Ethan wasn’t the person for that job. “I’ve met someone.”

  “Oh, God, the last time you told me that, it was Cora Appleby. You haven’t hooked up with her again, have you?”

  “No! I wouldn’t go back there,” replied Mal. The thought was ludicrous. “It’s a
bit tricky, because this person sort of works for me.”

  “You haven’t fallen for Therese, have you? She’d eat you alive!” Ethan’s voice trailed off and Mal remembered that his friend had a bit of a thing for his PA. Not that either of them would ever tell Therese that.

  “As if—no it’s possibly worse than that. She works for me as my housekeeper.”

  “You’ve fallen in love with Alena? Jesus, Mal, she’s old enough to be our mother!”

  “Ethan, you’re crazy, I would never go there.” He briefly explained what happened and how Piper ended up there.

  His friend gave a knowing chuckle. “So, you’re wondering what to do, right? If you take it further and things don’t work out, it will be awkward around the house and you’ll have to fire her. What if it did work out though, Mal? What if this Piper is the one for you?”

  Ethan had just externalized everything that was going on in Mal’s head. He knew that it would be foolish to dismiss it out of hand, but he didn’t know whether she even felt the same. She hadn’t displayed any obvious interest in him; however, she hadn’t exactly pushed him away either when they embraced earlier.

  “You know you have to go for it?” Ethan paused. “Whatever you decide to do, Mal, you need to do it soon. Either way it will end up being a delicate situation to handle.”

  “You’re right.” Mal changed the subject. “Where are you right now anyway, buddy?”

  Hearing Ethan talk about his travels across Croatia made Mal realize that his friend was doing exactly the right thing for him right now. It was a similar story of moving from hotel to hotel (or in Ethan’s case, hostel to hostel), like Mal did on the road: meeting people that would be in your life fleetingly or maybe a little longer, depending on how much you liked them.

  Listening to some of Ethan’s horror stories made Mal glad to be at home in Fortune’s Bay. The familiarity, being around a place he knew and loved without being harassed or having to be somewhere, suited his current state of mind. Having someone like Piper around was also an attractive proposition.

  “I’ve gotta go, Mal, my battery’s running a bit low.”

  “Is that with your phone or the chick you’ve put on hold while you’re talking to me?”

  “Ha, ha, both!” Ethan laughed. “Talk to you later, buddy, yeah? I’ll be back soon, and you can introduce me to this fantastic woman you’ve got.” He ended the call, leaving Mal a little surer of what he needed to do.

  After all, he reasoned, what did he have to lose? If she did laugh at him or push him away, he could just hole up in the studio and throw all his energies into making new music. He was going to need something to make it up to all the unhappy concert-goers who were no doubt bad mouthing him all over the place. He definitely needed something to recoup all the money he’d lost on ticket refunds. He thought about how he would have felt if he’d stayed out on tour. Broken, probably. He vowed to himself that he would find a solution to all of the things that were bothering him right now, whatever that meant. Mal had never been afraid of working hard to get what he wanted. His stomach rumbled as he realized he’d missed lunch again. Piper had prepared something, but he’d forgotten to eat. When he got involved in writing a song, everyday activities tended to go by the wayside. He hoped that dinner wouldn’t be too long, and he could talk to Piper properly.

  Chapter 13

  Later that day, the kitchen was hot and steamy as Piper hummed as she prepared dinner for herself and Mal. She was making the pasta dish he had so enjoyed on his first night back in the house. She told herself that it was quick and simple to make, but something inside her was telling her that she was cooking it because it was Mal’s favorite. She’d also taken a little more care over her appearance, having every intention of telling Mal, if questioned, that she’d been out for a walk and gotten sweaty. She was dressed simply in a pair of denim cut-offs and a flowing white peasant top. Her hair was freshly washed and styled, and she’d even put on a slick of makeup. As she tipped a bag of mixed salad into a bowl, Mal appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Mmm, that smells good.” He went over to the stove and stirred the pasta, inhaling loudly. “Shall I grab a bottle of wine?”

  “Great.” Piper smiled, butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. And wine on top of those nerves? She went over and set the table, seating them next to each other, as usual. It would be odd if she changed things that evening.

  Mal was rooting around in the fridge. “Do you want rosé? Or red?” He didn’t usually ask her what she would like—he would choose for them. Was he as nervous as she?

  “Rosé, I think…no, red.” Piper knew she could drink rosé like it was soda. She felt like she could drink a vat of wine, to help her calm down, and drinking rosé would be a bad idea. Who knew what she might say after several glasses of wine?

  “Cool, I’ll just pop down to the cellar to get one.”

  As Mal jogged down the stairs, Piper let out a huge sigh. She couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened that afternoon. Hands shaking, she dished out two large bowlfuls of pasta and placed them on the table. She took a seat and waited for him to return.

  After a few minutes, he returned. “Sorry, I was looking for a decent wine.” Mal uncorked the bottle of Argentinian Malbec and poured them both a huge glass.

  Piper fought back the urge to down the entire glass in one mouthful. She raised her glass. “To a successful afternoon!” Most of the success for Piper had been down to Mal, both from the gift he had given her to the inspiration for her first design in a long time.

  “To a successful afternoon!” echoed Mal, as he clinked his glass with hers. “I’ve been looking forward to this.” He forked up a big portion of the pasta and put it in his mouth, making noises of appreciation. “You know, I was prepared to throw you out after that first night, but then I tasted this and knew I couldn’t let you go.”

  “You really decided to keep me on because of my cooking?” Piper laughed. There weren’t many things she could cook, and she was pleased that Mal enjoyed at least one of the things she could do well.

  “I’d starve otherwise. Alena keeps me well-fed when I’m home, and people start to talk if I order pizza every night of the week.”

  That was a part of Mal’s life that Piper struggled with: the constant public interest in his every move. Since working for him, she had checked a few news articles and celebrity websites, and there had been some less than complimentary things said about the cancellation of the tour and the impact on the fans. Mal hadn’t spoken about it and Piper hadn’t wanted to broach the subject, partly in fear for her job.

  Bolstered by a few sips of the Malbec, that affected her more quickly than usual, she turned to him. “What do you miss most when you’re on tour?”

  Mal’s faced screwed up as he considered her question. “Lots of things really, like just being in my own house, being able to do what I want when I want, pigging out on leftover pasta…” He winked.

  “Can’t you do what you want when you’re on the road?”

  “I try, but sadly Boyd won’t let me. Apparently, I can get into too much trouble.”

  “Like getting too drunk for shows?”

  “How did you know about that?” Mal’s tone changed, and he placed his glass down with a little more force than usual.

  Piper shifted in her seat. “I read it on the web, on one of those celebrity sites.”

  “You don’t want to believe everything you read.” He closed down and the easygoing vibe between them chilled somewhat.

  They finished off the pasta in silence and Piper kicked herself for bringing up the failed shows. Her mouth really could run away with her when she’d had a couple of drinks. She cleared away the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, then hovered awkwardly between the kitchen island and the stairs, unsure of what she should do next.

  “Why don’t we go down to the studio?” suggested Mal, and Piper nodded in agreement.

  They went downstairs, Mal carrying the almost empty
bottle of red. Piper took extra care as she followed him; the last thing she wanted was to fall down the stairs like a drunken idiot. She hadn’t spent a great deal of time in the room and took a couple of minutes to look at the framed tour posters, a couple of gold discs, and other memorabilia that charted Mal’s career. Feeling somewhat starstruck again, she wandered around, reading the dates and other newspaper clippings that had been framed and hung on the walls. She sipped the remains of her wine and realized her glass was empty again.

  “Come and sit down.” Mal patted the cushion next to him. Piper noticed he had opened another bottle of wine. She was keen to have another glass, but also mindful that she needed to maintain some semblance of control.

  She settled down on the sofa, a comfortable distance away from Mal. It would be so easy for her to scoot over and sit right next to him, but she wasn’t sure whether that would be right.

  Mal waved a sheet of paper in front of her nose. “I wanted you to see this.”

  Her first thought was that it was some kind of letter of notice, that he didn’t want her there anymore, particularly after what she had said over dinner. She took it from him and her eyes scanned over the handwritten words. As she read, she knew that he wasn’t trying to get rid of her. If she was reading it correctly, it was quite the opposite.

  “What is this?” she asked, her tone soft. She tried to meet his eyes, but he looked away, his cheeks flushed as he fiddled with the stem of his glass.

  “Do you like it?” His tone was tentative.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Just like the person I wrote it about.”

  Now it was Piper’s turn to look away. She might have misunderstood what the song meant, but when Mal’s hands reached for hers, she knew she hadn’t. He pulled her closer toward him, until his lips hovered just inches from hers.

  “There’s no going back if I kiss you now,” he said.

  “I don’t want to go back…”