The Haneys: What You Do To Me Part 4

"It went fine, but you're not going to like the estimate. It's in my purse." Haley put a pile of potatoes on her plate and pa.s.sed the ceramic bowl to Junior. "The estimator said it's a remodel and not really a handyman job." Haley glanced at her. "I hope that's OK. I can foot some of the bill, and I'm paying for materials."

"Who did the estimate?" Trudy's heart pounded, and a niggling guilt stole her breath.

"A guy named Sam Haney." Haley took a spoonful of the spinach ca.s.serole she'd brought. "He seemed to know what he was doing. He's a journeyman carpenter, competent and professional. I'm sure Haney & Sons will do a great job, but it's going to take more than one person. That's partially why the labor cost is so high."

Professional? Sam the Handyman had not made a move on her daughter. Trudy had half a mind to fire him. How dare he not make a pa.s.s at Haley?

"Good. Good." Her husband nodded. "I'll take a look at the estimate after dinner, honey. You don't have to foot part of the bill. Your mother and I want to do this for you."

Not good. Not good at all. Her plan hadn't worked. Trudy pursed her lips. Unless . . . The divorcee on Loaded Question had said after the job was done. That was when she did Sam . . . after. Haney & Sons hadn't even started on Haley's house yet. There was time. It could still happen. "When will they begin the work?"

"Not for a couple of weeks. Mr. Haney has to coordinate things with the other workers. He said he'd call me to set things up." Haley pa.s.sed her the spinach ca.s.serole. "This is a new recipe. Let me know what you think."

"Smells great," Trudy replied. Haley had called Sam Mr. Haney. Not at all personal, not at all what you'd call someone who'd flirted or made a pa.s.s at you. Didn't Sam find her daughter attractive? She took a spoonful of the spinach and pa.s.sed the dish to her husband. "Haley, you're a lovely young woman."

Junior snorted, and Haley choked on her mouthful of potatoes and covered her mouth with her napkin. Her husband looked slightly puzzled.

"What?" Trudy's defenses surged. "She is a lovely young woman. Is there something wrong with a mother telling her daughter she's pretty?"

"No. Of course not, sweetheart." Frank senior sliced off a chunk of his beef. "Just seemed a little random is all." One side of his mouth quirked up.

Haley looked like she was struggling not to laugh, while Junior shoveled food into his mouth as if this might be his last meal. Trudy huffed. "Well, she is pretty." She lifted her chin. "You are, Haley, and don't let anyone convince you otherwise."

"I won't, Mom. Thanks." Haley kept her eyes on her plate. "Great dinner."

"Hmm-mm," Junior mumbled with his mouth full.

Trudy mulled. Her plan might still work. Perhaps Sam would make his move after the job was done. That must be it. He's waiting. She nodded.

"What are you nodding about, Mom?" Haley asked, her brow raised.

"I was just thinking about how much I love it when we're all together like this, that's all." She smiled lovingly at her family and crossed her fingers in her lap. "Eat up. Junior brought pie."

Chapter Four.

Wednesday evening, Sam stood in front of the large Minnesota Wild calendar on his kitchen wall. He held a green Sharpie in one hand and the city league hockey schedule for his team in the other.

When his cousin Andrea's son and daughter, fraternal twins, expressed an interest in playing hockey, Sam had jumped at the chance to coach, especially since their dad's schedule with the National Guard prevented him from taking it on. Sam had started his coaching career with the twins when they were Mini-Mites, then Mites, and now they'd switched to a Saint Paul league for nine- and ten-year-olds. Their team would actually get to compete in the tournament this year, and he couldn't wait. Sam had played hockey as a kid, and still did occasionally. He really got a kick out of coaching, and spending time with his cousins was an added perk.

Sam wrote times and locations for their practices and games at various Saint Paul parks and indoor rinks. In no time at all, November and December were covered in green. Stepping back, he looked for open times when he could work on Haley Cooper's disaster relief project. What with the other jobs he had going on and hockey, he wouldn't be able to do more than complete the tear-outs before Thanksgiving.

He grabbed a pad of paper and wrote down a few possible openings. A tentative plan of action in mind, Sam grabbed his cell phone from the counter and searched for Haley's number in his contacts. He had looked up the meaning of lothario. No way was he a selfish seducer of women, nor was he s.e.xually irresponsible.

Ms. Cooper had misjudged and looked down her nose at him. That got under his skin. Call it pride or whatever, it still bugged him. Of course, he hadn't helped matters by making a pa.s.s at her, and his reputation as the handsiest handyman in the Twin Cities had gone viral. He could see how she'd come to her conclusions, no matter how wrong she might be. He went a little breathless as he pushed Call. What was it about her that made him so nervous?

"h.e.l.lo?" she answered after the second ring.

He had to clear his throat before he could speak. "Ms. Cooper, this is Sam Haney. Have you had a chance to look through the catalogs I left for you?"

"Why, yes I have, Mr. Haney. Thank you for dropping them off for me."

Was that a smirk he detected? Amazing. She managed to convey a facial expression through tone alone. "Did you find anything you like?"

"Yes, but I want to make a trip to Home Depot or Lowe's to take a look at everything before I decide, and I'd appreciate it if you'd do the measuring before we order. I don't want to mess up on anything."

"Of course." Her voice sounded ultra-feminine and slightly husky over the phone-when not smirking, anyway. He stared at his calendar, searching for another open spot. "Do you want me to go with you when you check out the products?"

"Hmm. I don't know if that's necessary, but thanks for the offer."

"It's up to you." Her rejection chafed, which made no sense. He wasn't pursuing her. He wasn't interested in pursuing anyone, for that matter. "If you'd like, I'm available to offer my professional opinion on materials. I'm familiar with the companies that produce quality products and those that don't."

"I'll think about it and get back to you."

In other words, no. "OK, it's fine either way," he said, pumping positive into his voice. "The reason I called is that I have some possible dates for the tear-outs, but we won't be able to get to the wiring, plumbing or installs until after Thanksgiving." He ran the dates by her. "It'll take a few weeks for the materials to arrive once we do the ordering, longer if they're custom."

"Just a minute," she said. "I have to get to my calendar."

They went back and forth about dates and times, finally arriving at a couple that worked for both of them. "Good." Sam added more green to his calendar. "I'll let you know when the dumpster will be delivered, and we'll begin gutting the bathroom next Sat.u.r.day morning. I'll bring my brother along to help carry heavy items out of the house."

"I'm going to help," she reminded him. "Don't forget. I want to learn how to do this stuff. That's part of the deal."

"I haven't forgotten," he a.s.sured her. He'd be able to show off his knowledge and skill. That shouldn't excite him like it did. He shook it off. She'd mostly be underfoot. "Next Sat.u.r.day then. Have a great week."

"You too."

He hit End Call and dialed his brother's number. Have a great week? When had he turned into a Walmart senior greeter?

"Hey, Sam," Wyatt answered.

"Hey. Are you free next Sat.u.r.day morning to help with a tear-out?"

"Let me check." Wyatt sighed into the phone as he moved through his apartment. "Is this for the woman whose mother set you up?"

"Yes. Does that make a difference to your availability?"

"Nah, just curious. And yes, I'm free on the twenty-first. Can't wait to get a look at her."

"A look is all you're going to get." Now, why had that flown out of his mouth? His brother always clammed up and turned several shades of red in the presence of strangers-especially if those strangers happened to be attractive women. Wyatt posed no threat in the competing-for-women department, not that they were competing. Was it because Sam saw Haley Cooper as his own personal source of irritation? "That's all either of us is going to get," he tossed out for good measure.

"Oh, that's right. Gramps has you on a short leash." Wyatt laughed. "I heard you're on personal probation."

"Whatever." Sam dropped the Sharpie into the catchall basket he kept on his kitchen counter. "Just be here at eight on the twenty-first."

"No problem. What're you doing for dinner tonight? You want to go grab a burger?"

"Not tonight. I'm just going to hang out here." He scanned his apartment. The walls were a neutral shade of rental-white and unadorned. A very large smart TV and entertainment center took up an entire wall in his living room, with a nice comfy La-Z-Boy recliner couch against the opposite wall angled just right to play video games or watch sports with a few buddies. The couch even had beverage holders for their beer cans. "If you want, you can join me here for frozen pizza and a video game. Otherwise, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Nah, but thanks. That reminds me, Josey is up in arms again."

Sam frowned. His sister definitely had middle-child issues. "What about this time?"

"She says the name of our company is s.e.xist. She wants Grandpa Joe to drop the 'sons' in Haney & Sons Construction and Handyman Service."

Josey had it rough in their business. There weren't many women carpenters or plumbers, and she was a Haney, though obviously not a son. She, too, was a partner in the family business. He could see her point. "Thanks for the warning."

He and Wyatt ended their call, and Sam headed for his refrigerator-Ms. Cooper coming to mind as he glanced at his calendar. What had Haley's mother been thinking? What had she hoped to accomplish by setting him and her daughter up the way she had?

That was the burning question, and it was like an itch he couldn't reach. Why on earth would such an attractive, intelligent and interesting woman need setting up, anyway? He wanted to get to the bottom of that mystery in the worst way.

Haley sat at her desk and twiddled her pen between her finger and thumb while staring into s.p.a.ce. She should be typing up the brief she'd been given, but her mind . . . well, her mind was on kitchen cabinets and countertops, bathroom vanities, floor tiles and the hot handyman who would be installing everything.

What had her mom intended with her meddling, and how could Haley convince her to keep her nose out of her personal life? She had to find some way to make the whole setup backfire, that's how. To do that, she had to ferret out why her mother had done what she'd done. "Special touch, my a.s.s," she muttered under her breath.

"Hey, you want to go out for lunch today? It's noon already." Kathy stepped into her office. Calling the closet-size room an office was stretching it, but at least she had her own s.p.a.ce.

"Definitely." Haley's stomach gurgled in response to the prospect of food.

"I was thinking Panera or The Local. What are you in the mood for?"

"The Local." She opened her bottom desk drawer and pulled out her purse. "It's nice to have someone bring our food to us." Both restaurants were located on Minneapolis's Nicollet Mall and within walking distance via the skyway from Bremmer, Stevens & Schmitt, the law office where she worked. "Is Felicia coming?"

Felicia poked her head around Kathy's shoulder. "Right here."

"Good. We need to talk." Haley rose from her place and grabbed her sweater. "Let's go."

The three of them trekked through the crowded LaSalle Plaza skyway toward the US Bank lobby escalator down to street level. They dashed across Nicollet Mall through the cold and entered The Local, a popular Irish pub and restaurant. The delicious smells inside enveloped Haley, and her empty stomach rumbled again.

She gave her name to the hostess, who handed her a pager and told her there'd be a short wait. Haley pulled her sweater close and peered out the window at the overcast day. "It looks like we're going to get snow, and it's not even Thanksgiving yet." She huddled against the wall with her friends.

"Have you told Felicia about . . . er . . . Sat.u.r.day's handyman fiasco?" Kathy asked.

Felicia's eyes widened. "Come again?"

"No. I haven't really had the chance." As she and Kathy had left her house on Sat.u.r.day, she'd asked Kathy to keep it to herself during the club crawl. Haley hadn't wanted the new intern to hear about her latest humiliation. She glanced at the huddled crowd surrounding them. "Let's wait until we're seated, and then I'll bring her up to speed."

"You won't believe it." Kathy laughed. "Haley's mom hired a handyman to help put her house back together."

"OK." Felicia's expression clouded with confusion. "That's a good thing, right?"

"It's a weird thing," Kathy told her.

The pager in Haley's hand began to vibrate, signaling their table was ready. She handed the pager back to the hostess, and the three of them followed her to a booth. Once they were seated and had ordered, Haley told Felicia everything that had happened and how Sam had made a pa.s.s at her.

"He said he doesn't normally do the touching part until after the job is done, but he was willing to make an exception in my case." She leaned forward, her eyes wide. "Can you believe that?" Should she feel as flattered as she did? Probably not. "My own mother set me up for . . . for a one-night stand with the infamous Sam Haney."

Felicia sat back with a stunned look on her face. "Just how hot is this Hands-On-Haney?"

"Oh, he's definitely an eleven and a half on a scale of one to ten," Haley said. "But he's a total hound dog."

Kathy grinned. "I think you mean horndog."

"Whatever," Haley muttered.

Felicia's brow rose. "Can we trade mothers?"

"I asked the exact same thing." Kathy laughed.

"You're missing the point," Haley huffed. No matter what Trudy's intentions might be, her meddling hurt. Obviously she didn't believe Haley could get a date on her own. She bit her lip. Dammit, if she wanted to date, she could. She just wasn't there yet.

"I want to teach Trudy a lesson, but I can't figure out what she was thinking. What did she hope to achieve? If I knew that, I could come up with a plan that would end her meddling for good."

"Oh, that's easy." Felicia tapped the table with her finger. "Let's look at the facts."

"Right," Kathy said, leaning forward. "The facts, like it's been around seven months since Michael left. How many dates have you gone on in that time?"

"None, but-"

"Look, no dates in seven months, and that poor bungalow of yours has turned into your own personal punching bag." Felicia tapped the table again. "Mama bear sees you're not over Michael. She sees you're not moving on. She hears this radio show, and thinks to herself, baby bear needs a nudge in the right direction."

"Mama bear thinks baby bear needs to get laid." Kathy giggled.

"But . . . but . . . Trudy knows I'd never do a one one-night stand. It's just not in my nature." Haley frowned. "So, why do this? What kind of mother encourages her daughter to-"

"You're a grown woman, Haley, not a teenager, and I don't think Trudy expected you to act on Sam's offer." Felicia canted her head and studied her. "I think-and this is just my opinion-I think maybe your mom hoped you'd be flattered by the come-on, and that it might inspire you to get out there and date again. There's nothing like a hot guy's attention to make a woman feel desirable. Right?"

"That's it!" Kathy clapped her hands together. "Your mom is trying to nudge you into dating again, and Sam is her means to that end." She leaned forward and placed her forearms on the table. "You want to teach Trudy a lesson?"

"I do." Haley nodded. "I really do."

"Then date the handyman."

"What?" Haley blinked. "I . . . I can't do that. He's . . . he's not dating material."

"I'm not saying marry the handyman." Kathy shook her head. "Just ask him out. Date him, and let your mom know. The last thing she wants or expects is to see you with the Twin Cities' most infamous man-wh.o.r.e. She hired him to give you a spark, a jolt to your libido to get you moving forward again. As stereotypical as it sounds, mamas still want their daughters to marry and give them grandchildren. Thanks to that weasel Michael, you're stalled."

"At a complete standstill," Felicia agreed, nodding like a bobblehead.

"Your mother is expecting Sam the Handyman to jump-start your dormant hormones," Kathy continued.

"Exactly." Felicia waggled her eyebrows. "She's hoping Sam will give your love life a little mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."

Thankfully, their food arrived and Haley didn't have to respond. Absurd. Date the handsiest handyman in the state of Minnesota? She couldn't. Nope. Absolutely out of the question. She shuddered at the thought of where his hands, mouth and man bits had been. Although . . . it certainly would give Trudy Cooper the shock of a lifetime, and it might make her think twice before plotting out Haley's life ever again. Just because she went out with him didn't mean she had to sleep with him. What was she thinking? She couldn't go out with him. She was way too attracted to him, and she didn't need to play with fire to know she'd get blistered. He was a complete man-ho. "Nope. Can't."