They reached the formal terrace and took a path lined with yellow-leaved hostas.
“Let me show you the three-bedroom model, Drew, honey. I’m certain this is exactly what you’re looking for,” Valentine said as she fitted the key into the lock. She swung the door wide and stepped aside.
He fell for the high ceilings, red oak floors, stark white walls and old-fashioned louvered windows in less time than it took to rotate a set of tires.
“Would you mind if we went to your office now?”
“Drew, dahhhlin’, we can do whatever you like,” she murmured agreeably.
She led him toward the end of the common hallway. Valentine stepped carefully around a bag of potting soil that had tipped over and spilled out onto the otherwise spotless floor. She appeared not even to notice, much less mind.
A door stood wide open and pop music, mingled with excited yapping, flowed from inside. He felt like a snoop for peering in as they passed, but he was naturally curious about his new neighbors.
Where the empty unit he’d just seen had appealed to him in its monochromatic, uncluttered state, this one couldn’t have been more different, more colorful or more alive with…stuff.
From behind a wall of potted ficus trees, a blur of white fur flashed into view, triumphantly dragging an empty plastic tray that had once held bedding plants. In an instant the plastic was forgotten. The animal charged the doorway.
“Hey, buddy, we meet again.” Drew squatted to accept the greeting.
The pup stood on its hind legs with front paws perched atop Drew’s knee. Drew scratched the length of its back while it arched appreciatively and broke into a big doggie smile, pink tongue lolling to one side.
“He is the worst excuse for a guard dog that I have ever seen!” Jessica complained.
“Nobody said he was supposed to save your life. Just get you out for a walk once in a while,” a female voice farther inside replied.
Jessica was followed by what Drew could have sworn was a caftan-clad ringer for the lead singer of the Mamas & the Papas, the late Cass Elliott.
“Frasier, who’s your little friend?” Mama Cass smiled down at Drew.
Valentine took over. “Allow me to make introductions. This is Jessica’s friend and temporary roommate, Miss Becky Jo Osborne. Becky Jo, this is Captain Andrew Keegan.”
“Pleased to meet you, Captain Keegan.”
Drew stood and took the hand as it was offered, palm down, wrist slightly limp. He hadn’t served time at Virginia cotillions without learning a little something. He bent again, from the waist, and lightly brushed a kiss on the soft skin of Becky Jo’s very fragrant hand. He raised his head and stared into eyes the color of Texas bluebonnets.
“What a pleasure to meet you,” he said sincerely, still holding her hand.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Becky Jo responded sweetly.
A disgusted gag resonated from Jessica’s direction as Frasier quietly chewed on the leather tie of Drew’s shoe.
“Break it up, you two. I think we’d best scoot along before it gets much later,” Valentine cautioned. “Drew wants to work out the finances this evening and it’s getting on toward supper, so I think we’d better get a move on.”
“Ladies.” He inclined his head.
Jessica’s smile was forced.
Becky Jo’s was downright sappy.
Frasier growled.
Drew followed the women’s eyes as they all looked down to see the dog pawing an open bag of potting soil, sending sprays of dirt in every direction. It was too late to jump out of the way. Soil cascaded across Drew’s foot, clung to the slobbery lace and then fell neatly down between his fresh cotton sock and leather shoe.
He shook his foot in mild annoyance, stepped carefully around the mess, nodded goodbye and turned toward the exit.
“Talk to you dahhhlin’ girls shortly,” Valentine drawled just before the door closed behind her.
“Is that guy perfect for you, or what?” Becky Jo enthused as she herded Frasier back inside.
“You’re as crazy as you look.”
“Uh-uuuuh,” was the singsong reply. “That big man is class all the way and he’s just what you need to get your mind off that Larry Bird wanna-be.”
Jessica held up her hands in surrender. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about the basketball forward who’d quietly dumped her several months earlier. He’d made some excuse about being too busy for a relationship. She knew the real reason he was suddenly so busy. What man would ever have time for an out-of-work, out-of-shape, overweight dancer?
A low rumble rattled the windows.
“What was that?” Becky Jo gathered her caftan up around generous thighs and closed the distance to the laundry room.
“Check this out! Hurry!” She frantically waved Jessica toward the window.
Urgency in her friend’s voice caused Jessica to take the three steps up to the kitchen level with less caution than usual. Briefly aware there was no pain in the ascent, she silently thanked the hairy mutt whose needs forced her into motion every morning.
Standing on tiptoe, Becky Jo had pulled the mini-blinds several inches apart, revealing the commotion outside. Jessica had to stoop to peek through the same opening.
The temperature had been so nice all day that she’d opened several windows. The sound of a car engine carried through the screens, and it was loud! But it wasn’t just noise.
Power reverberated.
Outside their laundry room was what guys lovingly called “a muscle car.” She didn’t have to know anything about racing to know she was looking at a special machine. Painted a brilliant blue, the sports car had two wide white stripes across the top that ran the entire length of the vehicle. Extra-wide tires were mounted on shiny chrome wheels, pathetically clean compared to Jessica’s grungy red station wagon.
The rumble grew as the car fell in behind Valentine’s. The driver wore a harness instead of the usual seat belt. As if sensing female attention, Drew Keegan turned and gazed up at the window. Smiling in a way he probably knew deepened his dimples, he waved as if they were spectators in a private parade, revved the engine and passed through the gates of Sacred Arms.
The kitchen phone jangled. Jessica grabbed it on the second ring.
“Well, what do you think of Drew?” Valentine purred into her cell phone. “Isn’t he a gorgeous creature?”
Jessica rolled her eyes. Valentine had never been subtle about her matchmaking. “He’s okay, if you’re into the macho military type, which I absolutely am not. As long as he keeps his distance, I’m sure we’ll be just fine.”
“Then you may have a small problem.”
“Oh? Why is that?” Jessica asked, suddenly concerned at the humor lacing Valentine’s voice.
“Dahhhlin’, Captain Keegan is your new next-door neighbor.”
Chapter Two
Just before 7:00 a.m., Jessica perched on the kitchen stool waiting for the first dose of caffeine of the day to drip. She yawned and gracefully stretched long arms overhead, flinching at the slight pain in her sunburned shoulders.
Frasier nudged at her ankle, demanding his morning walk. Ignoring his urgency would result in a puddle on the tile, so she took the leash from a peg by the front door.
“Come on, buddy. Let’s head for the