Catching Sam: Book 2 of 5: The MacDonald Brothers by Emily Matthews (best mystery novels of all time TXT) 📗

instantly. “There is no way I’m asking my bazillionaire boss to help me move. Do you think I’m nuts?”

“I see your point. But seriously, I could help.”

“Absolutely not. I’ve hired a company to do it all. Actually, you’ve paid for me to hire a company to do it all. Samatrix is footing the bill for the movers. Thanks for that, by the way.” Her smile was back.

“All right, fine. You ready to go then?”

“Yeah, I’m getting hungry, and whatever you ordered smells divine.”

Sam lived in the same neighborhood but on the lakeside where the homes were significantly bigger and on much larger lots. When he pulled into the detached five-car garage, she laughed again.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Is that the cab from the other night?” she asked, gesturing to the taxi.

“Yeah,” he answered sheepishly. “I don’t like public transportation, but I don’t want to seem like a snob either, so it comes in handy sometimes. It’s stupid, I know.”

“Hey, at least you don’t ride around in a limo. The driver?”

“My personal driver, Steve. He lives in the guest house out back and is close when I need him in a pinch.”

“Sounds efficient. Must be nice,” she said without a hint of jealousy or malice. She wandered around the garage, checking out his collection of cars. Besides the cab and the SUV, there was an Aston Martin, a BMW crossover, and a brand-new Ford 250 pickup.

When she finished, he led her to the house via the covered walkway. She held the door for him as he struggled through with the dinner bags, and he thanked her.

All of a sudden, he was nervous. What if this had been a horrible idea? What if they had nothing to talk about? What if she really was out to screw him in some way?

“Welcome back, Sam,” Sophie said. Annie jumped in surprise.

“Hello, Sophie,” said Sam. “This is Annie. Annie, Sophie.” He nodded to the speaker in the ceiling. “She runs the place.”

“So, you’ve added a few upgrades since the place was built, I take it?”

“I took her down to the studs and remodeled the entire place to suit me. I may have added on a bit,” he admitted. “Want a tour?” He found himself wanting to impress her. She didn’t seem to be impressed by much, and he wondered what it would take.

“Can we eat first? I wasn’t kidding about being hungry.”

“Of course, yes. Let’s eat.” He mustered up some enthusiasm while leading her to the kitchen. Still full from his first dinner, from the same place, he wasn’t as eager to eat as she was.

They laid out the food, and she dished up and dug in with gusto. He picked at his salad and watched her. Everything she did seemed so natural and unplanned. After a bit, he finally put his finger on what he felt with her. Comfortable. She wasn’t pretending to be someone she wasn’t, which made him feel like he could be himself too. It was like hanging out with family.

The conversation was light and easy. He asked what kind of work she was having done to her new house and about her plans for moving in.

“The only work is the floors, and that should be done soon. The moving truck should arrive on Saturday morning. I only have the suitcases I flew in with. My car was a piece of shit, so I sold it and figured I’d buy a new one up here. I’ll just take cabs and ride shares until then.”

“Did you get a good deal on the house then?” he wondered. He must pay his graphic designers pretty well. Even that small house she’d purchased was probably worth a million dollars.

“You’re wondering how I could afford it,” she stated bluntly. “Not that it’s any of your business, but it was all thanks to you. Well, your company. I bought stock as soon as I hired on and have been riding your wave of success ever since. Plus, you pay me all right.” She winked. “For the last few years, I’ve been living simply. I sock away or invest as much of my paycheck as possible.” She sobered a bit.

“What caused you to want to live simply?” he asked, curious about her past. Also wondering what “living simply” meant. Did she live in her car? And eat cat food?

“Oh, it was after my divorce, but that’s a story for some other time. How about we talk about you?” She wiped her mouth with a napkin and turned her full attention to him. “Tell me about you. Something I don’t already know.”

“Hm, most of my life is an open book. I don’t feel like I have much privacy, but I’ll try.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me who you were the other night?” she interrupted.

He thought for a minute. “Probably. It wasn’t really a deliberate decision. But when you said you were from out of town and didn’t mention right away that you recognized me, I figured I’d try to see what normal felt like for an evening.”

“How did it feel?”

“Weird, but good. I’m used to people sucking up to me. Not that I want that,” he added quickly. “I don’t. But I guess I’ve become accustomed to being treated a certain way, and so it feels different when someone treats me normally.”

“I think I would hate being in your shoes. The money would be nice, but I’d like some anonymity. I’d want to be able to go to the supermarket and buy groceries without everyone looking in my cart and whispering behind my back.”

“That’s one problem I don’t have,” he admitted. “Someone else shops for me. I haven’t set foot in a grocery store in years. But I know what you’re saying, and I agree.”

“Okay. Sorry I interrupted you. What were you going to tell me?”

“I don’t know if I have any secrets,” he exclaimed. “I do so many interviews and get so many questions. What’s left?”

“Why did you leave New York to move to Washington State?”

“To go to