“How are you?” Delanie’s voice was full of concern. “Where did you and Phoebe go? You should have called me.”
“Or me,” Lucy said.
“The mayor came to tell me personally and as it happened Sam Hart was there. Loretta had something to do with him opening his home to us.” He’d actually been very gracious about the whole thing and she wasn’t sure why that was so surprising.
“I’ve seen him in Bar None.”
“And the café.” There was a “hmm” in Lucy’s voice. “He doesn’t seem the sort to be pushed around. Not even by Madam Mayor.”
Delanie nodded her agreement. “I know what you mean. The man owns a successful financial company with a lot of employees. It’s highly unlikely she could intimidate him into something he didn’t want to do.”
“You’re both right. And obviously observant,” Faith said. “I didn’t mean to imply that the mayor shamed him into volunteering. Like I said, she came by my cart in the lobby of Sam’s building to tell me I couldn’t go home. She said she had a full house but could find floor space and air mattresses for Phoebe and me.”
“So he was shamed,” Lucy said.
“Maybe. I don’t know. He spontaneously offered because he has a big house. And Loretta said it would be a relief not to have to worry about us, what with all the problems she was handling.” Then Sam had made his case to talk her into staying with him.
“So you were there last night,” Delanie commented. “How was it?”
“He didn’t lie about it being big. And beautiful.” And the man had gone out of his way to make sure they were comfortable and had everything they needed. He’d even cooked dinner.
“What’s he like?” Lucy asked, as if reading her mind. “I mean, obviously he’s nice looking.”
“Nice?” Delanie shook her head. “You can do better than that, Luce.”
“You’re absolutely right.” The blonde looked appropriately chastised. “This whole fire crisis has thrown me off my game. Sam Hart is so hot he could melt a lesser woman than me into a pathetic puddle at his feet.”
Faith would admit, if only to herself, that she’d dipped a toe into that puddle. “And what’s your point?”
“We want details. What is it like living with him?” Delanie folded her arms over her chest. “Did you see him naked this morning?”
“Of course not.” But wouldn’t that have been something. “And I’d hardly call it living together—”
“Don’t split hairs. You both spent the night under the same roof. By any definition that is living together.”
“Temporarily. That’s quite a different dynamic.”
“Don’t rain on our parade,” Lucy begged. “We’re doing our best to live vicariously. And if there’s a little matchmaking behind it, where’s the harm? The least you can do is meet us halfway.”
“This is where I tell you guys to get a life.”
Delanie grinned. “I have all the life I want, thanks. And right now yours has gotten exciting. In an interesting way, not the part where your house is in danger. And, for the record, we’re trying to take your mind off that. So, when life gives you lemons...”
“What she’s trying to say,” Lucy interrupted, “is that details would be most appreciated.”
“I love you guys for trying to take my mind off things, but I still don’t know what you want me to say.” Faith looked from one woman to the other. “Is he handsome? Check. Does he have money? Judging by his house that gets a big check mark, too.”
“How’s Phoebe doing with it?” Lucy asked.
“Pretty well, all things considered. She’s distracted by the house and pool. He even let her use the TV remote.” She couldn’t help smiling at the memory of him explaining what each button meant and letting her daughter push them, even though that meant jumping through hoops to restore settings. “She’s Team Sam.”
“He sounds like a good guy,” Lucy summed up and Delanie nodded her agreement.
Faith gave them a warning look. “He and I are just friends. I’ve gotten to know him because he buys a lot of flowers for women.”
“Sounds romantic to me.” Lucy stirred the beans on the steam table.
“Trust me. It’s not. Just a gimmick. A smoke screen. An elaborate ruse in which he appears to participate but really doesn’t at all.”
“How do you know?”
“He told me. I asked him, as a flower professional, whether or not I should look forward to the revenue a wedding could generate.”
“You didn’t.” Delanie’s expression oozed admiration. “Look at you going all TMZ on him.”
“What did he say?” The other woman stopped stirring. Apparently that revelation had the persnickety chef’s rapt attention.
“It was a definite no on walking down the aisle.”
“Oh, pooh. That’s not what I wanted to hear. So I shouldn’t count on a wedding reception catering contract from him.”
“Sad but true, ladies. Commitment is not on his to-do list.”
Her friends looked disappointed, but Faith was fine with it. Better than fine, actually. This conversation had put things into perspective. The fact that neither she nor Sam was open to romance was tremendously freeing. She could be herself around him because there was no chance of any weird man/woman stuff.
* * *
Sam was trying to decide whether or not to worry.
At breakfast Faith had told him she was going to volunteer at the fire staging area after work, do what she could for the firefighters. Her lobby cart had been locked up several hours ago when he’d left work for the day.
Was it time to do something stupid and go look for her?
Before he could make up his mind, he heard the front door open and female voices in the entry. He’d given her a key and moments later Faith and Phoebe joined him in the kitchen.
“Hi, Sam.” Phoebe gave him a wave.
“Hey, Squirt.” He looked at Faith. “Long day?”
“Yeah.” She looked tired, dirty and worried.
Again, Sam had the most absurd urge to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything would be all right. “Any news on your house?”
“No. And the evacuation order is still in effect.” She shrugged. “The guys have been too busy saving houses to keep track of the ones lost.”
Were the black streaks on her cheeks and chin soot? He frowned. “How close were you to the fire?”
“A couple of miles, I think. Why?”