Turbulent Intentions(32)

“Ah, sweetie, that job was beneath you anyway,” Sherman said as he patted her leg.

“I really should have finished school. But then my dad . . .” she trailed off, not wanting to think about that horrible time in her life. Instead, she sat there finishing her cup of tea and quickly refilling it to keep warm while she doodled on the napkin in front of her, effortlessly creating a pattern of star-studded dangly earrings.

“You’re young, Stormy. You have plenty of time to figure it all out,” he told her before leaning in and checking out her design.

She folded the napkin and put it away, instantly embarrassed.

“What is that you’re trying to hide from me?” he questioned.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I waste a lot of time doodling when I should be being more productive,” she said with a laugh.

“It didn’t look like a waste of time. It looked beautiful,” Sherman said.

Her cheeks flushed at the praise, but she wanted the subject changed.

“This hasn’t been the best week and I am trying to get back on my feet, but it seems every time I start to rise, my feet are getting kicked out from under me again,” she told him.

He eyed her for a minute and then thankfully let the matter of her sketching patterns drop.

“There’s always a bright side, darling, to everything. Sometimes the journey to get to the light just takes a bit longer than at other times.”

“I love that you always look for the rainbow in the middle of the storm,” she said. “I’m already feeling like I can stand again.”

And unbelievably she was feeling better. All it had taken was sitting there and drinking tea with Sherman while he puffed on his cigar. Maybe it was a special herbal blend that was soothing her nerves. Whatever it was, she was grateful he’d been there.

“I think I might have a solution to one of your problems, Stormy,” Sherman suddenly said.

“I didn’t come here for you to try to fix things, Sherman. Just talking with you has made me feel better,” she said as she leaned over and patted his free hand.

“I know you don’t like to ask for help, but I have connections, young lady, and it would be a real insult to me if you didn’t accept what I’m offering,” he said more sternly than she’d ever heard him speak before.

“Well, I guess I can at least hear you out,” she told him.

Stormy was sure she wouldn’t be accepting whatever it was he planned on offering. She couldn’t take advantage of their friendship.

“I know of a great little two-bedroom cottage that’s sitting all empty and alone,” he said, making her heart thump. This might be something she wouldn’t mind accepting if it were affordable.

“I’m listening,” she said. What if it were truly great, though, and just outside her budget? That wouldn’t end her day on a positive note.

“It’s a beautiful place with sweeping views of Puget Sound, all the fog your heart could ever desire. The cottage sits on the property of my relative, and the house is just up the hill so you wouldn’t feel as if you were in the middle of nowhere, but you’ll also have privacy,” he said. “And it’s all yours, if you want it.”

The idea of living right on the water in a place where no neighbors were pounding against her walls was a dream she’d never imagined coming true. But as all dreams had a tendency of shattering when you opened your eyes, she was leery. There would be no way for her to afford such a wonderful place.

“I guess the big question is how much does the person want for rent? I don’t have a terribly large rent budget, Sherman. There’s not a lot I can afford.” Stormy refused to make eye contact as she told him this.

She hated talking money with people, especially someone like Sherman. No, he didn’t flash his money around, but she knew he was far from poor. She didn’t know what exactly he had, but she was sure it was enough to never have to want for anything.

“I think this just might be in your price range, Stormy. The person who owns the property is gone a whole lot and has finally figured out that it’s better not to leave the grounds unattended,” Sherman said. “And with you about to be homeless, it works out best for all parties concerned. As a matter of fact, there’s no rent. You would just take care of the house, make sure no one is coming in when the owner is gone, and maybe stock up on some supplies for when they are back.”

She looked at him with suspicion.

“This seems a lot like a handout to me, Sherman,” she told him.

With innocence shining in his eyes, he held up his hands in surrender. “It’s nothing like that, I swear,” he promised her.