***
With his graying beard and beer belly, Phil Larson resembled a young Santa Claus. Maybe that was why for the past several years he’d dressed up in the red suit and handed out gifts to the children on the town common. It was a tradition that had been going on since Sean was a kid, though he figured Phil had not always been the man in the red suit. At one time Phil had been a fit and active man. He’d worked as the assistant high school football coach the whole time Sean had played and for a few years afterward. He only stopped coaching and started to gain weight after a car accident had broken both legs and he’d ended up bedridden for several months.
“I wrote everything up even though I know you want to do some of the work yourself.” Phil handed him a spiral-bound booklet.
“What did you find?” Sean asked.
“The old girl has good bones. She’s structurally sound, but she needs more than just simple cosmetic work.” Phil flipped open his own copy of the booklet. “For starters, the house needs a new roof and the electrical needs updating. The house is still using fuses.”
Neither of Phil’s statements surprised him. The house next door had been built around the same time as The Victorian Rose. Unlike The Victorian Rose, though, the house had been empty for almost five years, and before that the family that owned it rented it out after they sent their elderly parents to a nursing home.
“Downstairs everywhere but the kitchen has been updated. However, the second floor needs an overhaul. New windows would be high on my priority list, and the upstairs bathrooms only have tubs—no showers anywhere in the house except for the full bathroom on the first floor.”
He followed along in the booklet as Phil listed each need in order of importance as well as his estimated cost for each thing. So far nothing shocked him, and everything fell into his proposed expense budget.
“She has potential if you want to sink the time and money into her.” Phil reached the last page of his proposal. “Any questions I can answer for you?”
“I’m good for now. Just gathering everything the bank needs.” Sean closed the proposal. “Thanks for doing this up for me. I’ll let you know what I decide.”
After his meeting with the contractor, Sean deposited the proposal on his desk. Tomorrow he’d sit down and go through it again in more detail. Now he needed to get changed for his night out with Mia. As he showered, he again questioned his sanity. Going anywhere with a temporary guest felt inherently wrong, like he was crossing some invisible line, which, if he was honest, he’d already done the night before when they kissed.
The hot-blooded male in him said something entirely different. With her unforgettable smile and killer curves, Mia Troy was every man’s fantasy, and she wanted to spend time with him. Hell, if her kiss the night before was anything to go by, she wanted to do more than just have dinner with him. And damn if the idea of doing so much more than kiss didn’t thrill him.
He pulled on the only pair of khakis he owned and a dark blue polo shirt. Tonight he’d go out and have fun. If things went a little further than a kiss or two, fine. If not, he’d be okay with that too. Either way she’d leave in a few weeks and life at The Victorian Rose would go on as usual. Or at least he hoped so. If his father made another unexpected visit, who knew what might happen?
Sean entered the foyer just as the front door opened and a middle-aged couple spending a few nights entered. He’d overheard them tell his mother that they were celebrating their twentieth wedding anniversary that weekend.
“I have to tell you I was worried when Charles said he booked our stay at a bed and breakfast. We stayed at one years ago up in Maine and it was terrible. But I love it here,” the woman said, coming up to him.
Just what he wanted to hear. “I’m glad. If there’s anything you need, just let us know.”
“I’ll definitely be telling my friends about this place,” the woman said before she started up the stairs, her husband right behind her.
Once the couple disappeared up the stairs, Sean glanced at his watch. He’d knocked on Mia’s door on his way down. She said she’d meet him downstairs in five minutes. According to his watch, though, that had been almost ten minutes ago.
“Sorry. My assistant called.” Mia’s voice brought him to attention as she descended the stairs. Unlike the night they’d gone to the block party, she’d taken no steps to disguise herself. Her hair hung loose, tumbling over her shoulders. She’d expertly applied eye makeup, emphasizing her whiskey brown eyes, and bright red lipstick drew his eyes to her lips. His pulse pounded at the memory of how they felt against his. She’d paired her skintight black pants with an animal print sleeveless top. The combination of the two put all her curves on display once again.
“I would’ve blown off the call, but she’s also my sister.”
Unlike the night before, they were the same height when she stood next to him, causing Sean to glance down at her high-heeled black boots. “Are you sure you want to wear those? ” He pointed at the black boots with their skinny heel. “The tour is about two hours of walking.”
“I’ll be fine,” Mia reassured him, slipping her arm around his. “Come on, let’s go have some fun.”
Located on the corner of Washington Square and Derby Street, the Hamilton Hotel, built in 1920, held three claims to fame. The hotel had been used in 1975 to film a horror movie and then again in 1978 to film its sequel. Its third claim was the legend that the hotel’s library in the basement was haunted by Lizzie Scranton. Yet neither of those things was the reason Mia had made dinner reservations for them there that night. Rather, she just liked the way the place had looked when she did an Internet search for restaurants in Salem. Certainly not the oldest building in the famous town, something about the grand hotel and The Scarlet Letter restaurant located inside had called to the historian in her. For as long as she could remember, she’d loved history. While her sisters had loved watching cartoons and movies with princesses, she’d enjoyed shows about the Middle Ages and the Roman Empire. When other kids her age had begged for trips to Disney, she’d pleaded with her parents to take her to the Aztec ruins. She’d finally made it there the year before.
“Have you ever been on one of these ghost tours?” Mia looked away from the oil painting mounted over the fireplace in the restaurant. It depicted a famous sea battle during the war of 1812, judging by the flags flown from each ship, but from her seat she couldn’t read the name of the battle.
“Never. You?” Sean asked, his full attention on her.
“Once in Gettysburg and once in Philadelphia. They were fun.”
Sean frowned ever so slightly. “So you believe in all that ghost sh—” Sean stopped for half a breath “—stuff?”
“No, not really, but I find the idea fascinating. Think about it. What if there was a way to communicate with people from the past? Imagine the things they could tell us. It’s one thing to read the journal of a soldier who fought in the Civil War, but imagine if you could actually sit down and have a conversation with him. Or maybe discuss what life was like on board the Mayflower when it crossed the Atlantic. I think that would be incredible.”
Sean shrugged. “It might be interesting, but I don’t see how any of that would be useful.”
“History and all the events that have happened since man first appeared are what make us what we are today.”
“Evolution made us what we are today,” Sean said as a waiter approached.
After introducing himself and taking the drink order, the waiter turned as if about to leave, but then walked closer to the table again. “People must tell you this all the time, but you look just like Mia Troy.”
Mia gave the waiter her magazine smile. “Actually, that’s who I am.”
The young waiter’s jaw dropped. “Wow. Really? My girlfriend loves your movies. She’s never going to believe you’re here,” he gushed, his voice louder now than it had been before. “Do you think I could get your autograph for her?”
Maybe she should have l
ied. Since her arrival in Massachusetts, she’d managed to stay under everyone’s radar. By admitting who she was to the waiter she risked drawing attention to not only herself but Sean as well.
“Sure, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anyone else.” She accepted the slip of paper the waiter held out. “Who should I make it out to?”
Across the table Sean remained silent during the exchange, only speaking once the waiter left. “Does that happen all the time?”
“Depends,” Mia admitted as she dismissed the incident from her thoughts. “Now where were we?”
“About to disagree on the subjects of evolution and history,” Sean answered, as the corners of his mouth inched upward, and for the first time she noticed his dimples. They gave him the look of a carefree rascal.
Leaning forward, she placed her palms on the table, eager to dive into the conversation. When was the last time she’d had an intellectual debate with anyone, let alone on a date? Most of her dates preferred to talk about their latest movie roles or which luxury sports car they’d added to their collection. The fact that they were having such a conversation was not only intellectually stimulating but hot, too.
“I don’t disagree that evolution is behind who humans are physically, but history, all the experiences and events over thousands of years, is what shapes mankind. Kind of like the way events in our own pasts make us the people we are at this very moment.”
A look she couldn’t label passed over Sean’s face and he looked away for a moment.
“When you put it that way, I guess you’re right. It sounds like you really enjoy history.”
Sean’s normal stoic expression fell back into place. What thought or emotion had he just experienced?
“Love it. I majored in history at Harvard.”
This time there was no mistaking the surprised look on his face. “I didn’t know you had a degree from Harvard,” Sean said, sounding impressed.
“I don’t. I left after sophomore year and went back to acting.” Sometimes she wished she’d finished her degree, but at the time it had felt like the right decision.
Sean held back any further comments when the waiter reappeared and placed their dinner salads on the table. He spoke again as soon as the waiter left . “Why did you do that? Do you know how many people would kill for a chance at an education from Harvard?”
As he dug into his salad, Mia left her fork on the table. “I loved the material, I hated the exams and deadlines.”
“You left because you hated the exams?” His voice indicated that he thought that was the most ludicrous reason in the world. “Must be nice,” he muttered loud enough that it reached her ears, although she doubted he’d meant for her to hear him.
“Not everyone handles academic life well.” A strong urge to explain her decision kept her talking. “I missed acting. From the age of ten until I started college, it had been a key part of my life. When I stopped acting and went to Harvard, it felt like something was missing. Like I wasn’t whole anymore.” Mia reached for her drink and took a sip. “It probably doesn’t make a lot of sense, but no matter what I studied or who I spent time with, my life felt like it was missing something back then. So when I was offered a role in Love Always and Forever, I accepted it and left school.”
Sean remained tight-lipped. Nothing in his expression gave her any indication of his thoughts. Finally, just when she decided they needed a new topic, he spoke again.
“I can understand that. Have you ever regretted your decision?”
“Sometimes,” she answered. “I often take online history courses. I’ll never earn a degree because I don’t bother with anything else. But I don’t need the degree so I’m fine with that.”
The combination of sweet tomatoes, oregano and another spice she couldn’t identify wafted upward when the waiter set down her meal, and she took in a deep breath. The roast chicken with oven-dried heirloom tomatoes smelled divine. With the precision of a surgeon, she sliced a corner of the chicken breast and pushed the rest to the edge of her plate next to the jasmine rice she had no intention of eating. As empty as her stomach felt, she’d be kicking herself later if she ate the entire meal on her plate. She’d eat the amount she’d separated and no more. Across the table Sean started on his own meal, a steak so large it covered the plate beneath it, with a loaded baked potato and vegetables on the side.
“I’m guessing you don’t enjoy history.” Mia stabbed a piece of steamed broccoli.
“It’s done and gone. You can’t change it,” Sean said curtly. “Why worry about it?”
Mia suspected he wasn’t thinking about the history in textbooks. For a moment she considered the scene between Sean and his father. No doubt some serious history existed between them.
For the remainder of dinner neither spoke much, an unusual occurrence on a date. She’d never been out with someone not in the spotlight. On most of her dates she could discuss industry-related topics. Sometimes celebrity gossip even snuck into conversations. In the case of athletes, they loved to share performance reports from their most recent games. But tonight, she had no burning desire to fill the silence.
“Is that all you’re eating?” Sean placed his fork next to his empty plate.
He’d managed to finish everything including the steamed vegetables. Just thinking about all the food he’d consumed made her stomach ache.
“I’m all set. I had a late lunch.” She’d missed lunch actually, but he didn’t need to know that.
Sean cocked an eyebrow. “Let me guess—you’re on a diet.” He made the word diet sound like a vile thing.
She shifted in her seat. Other men never questioned her eating habits. “Not exactly. I just need to be careful, especially with filming around the corner.”
Sean shook his head, his opinion clearly displayed on his face. “Careful of what? Those people in Hollywood are nuts.”
He wouldn’t get an argument from her. People who lived and worked in the industry had their own distinct ideas. “Last year I gained about eight pounds or so. The media had a field day with it. They claimed everything from a pregnancy to compulsive overeating because I was depressed. I’ll skip that again, thank you very much.”
This time Sean outright laughed at her statement. “You’re friggin’ gorgeous. Most men would give their left n—” Sean stopped “—hand to be in my seat right now. Even if you gained twenty pounds you’d have a line of men waiting to be with you.”
She heard people call her gorgeous all the time. The word meant little to her anymore. Or at least it had up until now. When the word rolled off Sean’s tongue, it reached the person she was inside. “Thank you.” Warmth flooded her cheeks. I never blush. What the heck? “Unfortunately, people expect me to be a certain way and that doesn’t include an extra twenty pounds.”