Chapter 6

Alex smiled down at her, his eyes sparkling dangerously. She swallowed hard and moved aside to let him enter.

“Please come in,” she said softly, suddenly feeling very shy, unable to meet his gaze. Alex stepped inside to admire her room and nodded in approval. In one short day, she’d brought the room to life with her own personal touches.

He’d never seen it looking so lovely. The guys he hired before had only thought to hang cheap posters of their favorite bands, but Samantha had really done something with it.

She gestured towards the sitting room and asked him to have a seat.

Alex breathed in the lovely aroma of her cooking, eagerly anticipating the meal that awaited him. He suddenly realized just how hungry he was, and since it wasn’t nearly dark enough for candles, he ate dinner with her in the glow of the late afternoon sun, some soft Spanish guitar music playing in the background.

Alex sliced off a neat bit of Cornish hen and popped it into his mouth.

“This is great,” he told her. “What’d you put in it?”

“Lavender and lemon,” she told him, glad he was pleased.

“I’ve never had anything like it before.”

“Please try the pasta. I boiled down the drippings to make you a sauce.”

“Delicious,” he agreed, taking a sip of wine. “You’ll make some man an excellent little wife someday.”

She was absurdly pleased by his compliment.

“You think?”

“Yes. But tomorrow we have to get down to business.”

Her brow wrinkled. “Business?”

“We’ll want to go over things together, and I’ve written about a hundred pages that need to be entered into the computer. I usually write everything in long-hand first, so I hope you can decipher my writing.”

She found it hard to keep her eyes off him.

“Let’s not talk about work tonight, Alex,” she said. “I’ll get up at seven and you can teach me everything I need to know, but for now I just want to enjoy your company.”

“All right. All right, Samantha. Why don’t you tell me some more about yourself?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” she confessed with a smile. “I’ve lived a completely boring life until now.”

“What about college? Surely something must have happened there? Besides that fiancé of yours.”

“Not really, except I met Marianne. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I mean, I’ve always wanted to be that kind of girl, but I never had the nerve. They’re the ones who have all the fun. They get all the hot boyfriends and drive the fancy cars.”

She stopped, taking a sip of wine.

“I think that’s why I love Marianne’s leather dress so much,” she admitted. “It makes me feel different, kind of bad.”

She saw that Alex remembered the dress. There was a spark of admiration on his face that made her turn pink and break their eye contact.

For heaven’s sake, Samantha thought, I’m blushing again.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” she said. “It must sound pretty pathetic to someone like you.”

“Someone like me? What am I like?”

Their glances met. She didn’t trust herself to say a word, so she just sat there smiling inanely instead.

“I don’t know, Alex. You really haven’t told me anything about yourself.”

He swallowed hard, feeling uncomfortable. He’d done a lot of foolish things in his life, but nothing ever troubled him as much as the way he handled the break-up with his ex-wife. He couldn’t tell Samantha about that, for no woman in her right mind would come anywhere near him after hearing that story.

Thinking back, he knew he should’ve listened to his mother when she warned him Jennie was nothing more than a low-class slut, but he was so desperate for a sense of security and belonging that he’d thrown caution to the winds and ignored her.

He hardly dared think what his mom’s opinion of Samantha would be. She’d probably call her a gold-digger, but he knew she’d be wrong, his mom.

Samantha was definitely anything but.

With that in mind, Alex decided it would be wisest to put off telling his mother about his new assistant for as long as humanly possible.

“I’m just a regular guy,” he told Samantha, feeling self-conscious. “I just...somehow, by accident, became a good writer. After a while, people knew who I was, and then that Jesse Dent hit the scene and it all went to hell. Now everybody thinks I’m him, and to be honest, I might as well be, for all the privacy I get.”

He sounded bitter, and Samantha was forced to agree with him. How many times had they been accosted by strangers in the short time she’d known him?

“I know all that, but what about your childhood?” she prompted.

“My childhood? Who cares about that? My dad left us when I was a little kid and my mom worked her butt off trying to make ends meet.”

“Where’s she at now? Can I meet her?”

“She’s a real estate broker in Chicago now. I go out and see her once in a while, and I guess if you want to, you can come with me next time, but it won’t be very glamorous.”

Samantha saw that he was becoming agitated, so she changed the subject, telling Alex she bet his mother was pretty, wished aloud that she, too, was attractive to the opposite sex.

“You think my mom’s slutty?” he asked.

“No. I’m just saying, you’re so good-looking I figured she must be, too.”

He smiled.

“Thank you, Samantha, but what exactly do you think is wrong with you? Don’t you know how pretty you are?”

“No. My nose is too big and I’m kind of plain,” she told him. “I even thought about getting a nose job, but then I saw what it did to that actress Jennifer Grey from Dirty Dancing. It took away all her character, so I said forget that.”

Alex drew back quietly, and carefully put his napkin down before he stood up. For a moment, Samantha was afraid he meant to leave, but instead, he picked up the entire table, food and dishes and all, and moved it aside, then planted himself in front of her chair.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Samantha,” he said, drawing her to her feet, his eyes boring into hers. “You’re just young. And your nose isn’t so big. In fact, I kind of like it. So give yourself a chance, why don’t you?”

His head bent closer and closer and Samantha, realizing he meant to kiss her, felt her heart pounding in her ribcage.

A sudden surge of passion washed over her, and suddenly Alex’s lips met hers, parting to let his tongue glide into her mouth. She flung her arms around his neck and returned his kiss, forgetting for one brief moment that Alex was her boss.

Her knees weakened and threatened to buckle under her, and she felt the hardness of his erection through the fabric of their clothes as he pressed closer. She wished she could rip off her own clothes and be with him right then and there, but all at once, Alex broke away from her and held her at arm’s length, blinking as if he were dismayed by his own behavior.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he told her, rather out of breath himself. “I promised not to.”

He released her abruptly and moved toward the door.

“Dinner was wonderful, Samantha. Thank you.”

She didn’t see him again until the next morning, when he tapped softly at her door. True to her word, she was up and dressed, ready to begin work.

Alex showed her to the study and offered her a cup of tea and a croissant. They sat together at his huge desk as he went over some of the details of her job.

“Are you any good at bookkeeping?” he asked her suddenly.

“Well, I did take an accounting class.”

“Do you think maybe you could handle the household expenses for me? I suck at it.”

“Of course, Alex. No problem.”

“Can you do it right now? I mean, I haven’t been able to keep track for a month or more. Here, just open these bills and make out the checks and I’ll sign them. The stamps are in here, and the address labels here.”

Obviously, there was much more to it than simply writing the checks. Samantha found two unopened bank statements and proceeded to balance and reconcile his checkbook for him.

She was staggered by the balance he carried, having never in her life dared to dream of such riches, and wondered that he hadn’t been ripped off by some unscrupulous bookkeeper or assistant from his past.

The financial tangle didn’t extend back any farther than the two months he assigned to her, though, and Samantha felt satisfied that his last assistant had handled the books honestly.

After a while, Alex returned with a dish of scrambled eggs and some fresh tea.

“Things going okay?”

“Yeah, no problem. I got most of this straightened out, but you really do suck at this, don’t you?”

He laughed and pulled up a chair beside her.

“I’m much better at making it and spending it than I am at keeping track of it. Here, eat your eggs.”

Samantha stopped to take a break and eat the breakfast he brought. They chatted for a while, both of them seemingly over the awkwardness of last night’s kiss.

By lunchtime, Samantha was fully occupied entering his newest story into the computer. Alex’s handwriting was actually very neat and readable, so she was able to accomplish quite a bit by lunchtime.

This time Grandma brought Samantha something to eat and she plowed on, having her lunch at her desk. She didn’t see Alex again until dinner that night.

The next few days were much the same, Alex disappearing for long stretches of time. Samantha, unused to the heat and high humidity, stayed indoors as much as possible.

Meanwhile, the memory of their kiss began to fade in her mind until she started to wonder if it ever really happened.

Still, she knew herself to be fortunate. Alex paid her handsomely and demanded very little in return. In fact, he left her pretty well alone, and in time, she began to see that perhaps he was avoiding her.

After about a week of such solitude, Samantha, feeling lonely, went out to the kitchen to seek some companionship.

Grandma was there, busy with her day’s work. Long accustomed to helping her mother around the house, Samantha jumped in to lend a hand. She wasn’t the type of person who could just sit around watching an elderly woman labor on her behalf without even lifting a finger to help. She picked up a clean dishtowel to help Mrs. K. dry the dishes.

“So tell me how you met Mr. Alex,” said Samantha.

“He knew my daughter,” she told her. “My poor girl. She was working as a waitress nearby and he was her friend when she was sick and alone...well, dying, really.”

Mrs. K. dabbed at her eyes.

“Mr. Alex helped her. He did all he could. He brought her and my poor little Albert here when the end was near. She died here, did you know?”

Samantha shook her head as Grandma continued.

“He was very kind to her, Mr. Alex. He kept Albert here and took care of him until I could come over from the Big Island to get him.”

“What was wrong with her? Why did she die?”

“Cancer.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Samantha set the dishtowel down. She’d never known anyone with cancer before, but she was frightened of the disease, and she glanced over at Grandma, feeling bad for introducing the topic.

“But you never went back?” Samantha asked, to change the subject. “You stayed here with Alex?”

The old woman nodded, her eyes focusing on the wall. She wiped away her tears, her customary optimism returning suddenly.

“He’s very good to me, Missy Samantha,” she said at last. “He’s good to my boy. He even taught him how to drive out there on that awful road. Most people don’t understand him, but he’s a very good man. Just quiet. Almost shy, even.”

“I know,” Samantha agreed. “I like him a lot. He really is nice, isn’t he?”

Grandma nodded again, able to shove the dark past from her mind. “Would you come out to my house with me? I forgot my pills.”

“Sure.”

Samantha followed the older woman down the path to her nearby cottage and made sure she left her flip-flops (which they all called slippers) outside the front door, already used to the Hawaiian custom.

Grandma let them in and Samantha knew at once that, more than just wanting her company, she wanted Samantha to see that Alex took every care of their comfort here.

Though not nearly as plush as the main house, it was apparent Alex was concerned with their well-being. Samantha, inspired, found she wanted to match Alex’s efforts.

“Grandma, if this ever gets to be too much...I mean, if you ever need me to help you, please let me know.”

Mrs. Kujiroaka shot her a surprised glance and seemed pleased.

“You’d help me?”

“Of course. Just say the word.”

The older woman grasped her hand in appreciation and gave it a squeeze.

“You’re a nice girl, Missy Samantha. I hope you stay here forever.”

“Really? Thanks, Grandma. I kind of hope I do, too.”

With that, they went back to the main house. Grandma started dinner, some kind of stir-fry with Spam and a lot of different vegetables over rice. When Samantha sat down at the table with Alex, she found it was surprisingly tasty.

“Oh, my God, this is really good,” she told Alex.

“I know. That woman’s a godsend; I bet she could make an old boot taste good.”

“I believe it.”

“Samantha, do you...do you like it here?” he asked suddenly. “Do you think you’d like to stay?”

“Here? With you and Grandma and Albert? I think so. I mean, I’ve never been any place like this before, but I like it. And how about you, Alex? Do you feel like you want to keep me? Do you think I’m working out as your assistant?”

He nodded. “I know you are.”

Another two weeks passed, and Samantha began to feel again that she and Alex were living parallel lives, lives that intersected mainly over the dinner table. And while he never gave the smallest hint there was anything amiss, she often didn’t set eyes on him for hours on end. And Alex, busy with his writing and gardening, never seemed to notice her absence from his life, never seemed to feel the distance between them or make an effort to spend more time with her.

Eventually, she grew restless and bored being alone so much of the time. Unfortunately for her, before the month was out, Alex rewarded Grandma and Albert with the entire week off, and they cheerfully packed it in and went to the Big Island to visit relatives. With Alex gone so much, Samantha was left behind with no one to talk to and nothing but her work to occupy her time.

Before the week was over, she felt desperate for some human contact, and she finally decided that-avoid her though he may-Alex was going to have to pay a little bit of attention to her, at least until the others returned from their trip.

She stepped out onto the back porch and saw him out in the garden, pulling weeds and picking tomatoes. After a few minutes, she managed to capture his gaze. He stood up and came to the porch with a basket full of plump, juicy red tomatoes. He set it down and looked at her.

“Anything wrong?”

“I’m lonely,” she said with a pout. “Can’t I help?”

“Yeah. Sure. Come on.”

They made their way down a thick row of green beans. Alex handed her a battered tin pail and showed her which ones were ripe. Stooping, he pulled out a weed.

“If you see any of these, go ahead and yank them out. I’m going inside to rinse the tomatoes. Later, I’ll show you how to dry them in the oven.”

Samantha soon forgot her boredom and picked up a little of Alex’s enthusiasm for gardening. Before long, she became completely engrossed in her task and, spotting a weed, she reached way under a bush to pluck it out.

A sharp sting caused her to draw back her hand in shock, and when she did, she saw a long, wiggly insect drop back down to the ground and scurry away under the bush.

A shrill scream broke from her lips and she dropped the weed, grabbing her throbbing hand instead.

Turning, she ran up the wooden steps and into the house, feeling faint, her hand already beginning to swell painfully.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something just bit me,” she sobbed, showing him her hand.

“What was it?”

“How should I know, Alex? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

He seized her hand and examined it.

“What did it look like, Samantha?”

“I don’t know...a rope with legs?”

She shuddered, remembering. She never liked bugs, and now she felt really faint, thinking about the hideous creature that bit her. She sucked in a deep breath as Alex led her by the arm to the kitchen table and sat her down.

“Sounds like a centipede,” he told her. “Was it brown?”

“Yeah, and sort of reddish. Oh, it really hurts, Alex.”

“I know, sweetie.”

She watched as he opened a nearby drawer and took out an old dishtowel, tearing a long, narrow strip from it.

“What are you doing that for?”

“I’m going to make a tourniquet.”

“What? Why? Am I going to die?”

He ignored her question and grabbed a pencil, setting to work to bind her arm up tight, just below the elbow.

“Here, hold this,” he instructed. “I have to get a razor blade.”

“What?” she rasped, feeling hot and thirsty.

He ducked into his bedroom and returned with a razor blade and bottles of alcohol and peroxide.

“That’s not for me,” she told him, her eyes wide with fear as she eyed the razor.

“Don’t be such a baby, Samantha. I have to get the venom out.”

He pulled a chair around next to her and sat down in it. She watched as he rinsed the blade in alcohol and took a firm grip on her wrist.

“Hold still.”

“No, Alex, don’t. Ow,” she howled as the razor slit her skin. Alex wrapped the rest of the dishtowel around her hand to soak up the blood and then he whisked off the tourniquet.

Dazed, Samantha slid her chair back across the kitchen tiles in haste and stood up.

“You shouldn’t get up so fast,” he said as he rose from his own chair to stop her. Samantha did get up, though, and she quickly realized what a mistake she made in doing so. The world tilted dangerously up on its side and she felt herself falling to meet it.