CHAPTER 20

Max released him and I strongly suggested that he get out of town...the sooner the better. Lucy hugged Max to thank him and we drove off, not to Lucy's house, but to see her parents. Once again Samuel opened the door and showed us into the parlor where Mr. and Mrs. Bascomb were drinking coffee and reading the morning's newspapers.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise, Lucille…Matt."

"It wasn't one we planned, Jonathan. We had an altercation with Donald Craig outside the diner." I explained what had occurred and Lucy filled in the blanks, including how she was terrified until Max came to her rescue.

I could see the fire in Jonathan's eyes as the story unfolded. "I'll be glad to straighten him out, Matt."

"I hope you do, Jonathan, because if it happens again I'll leave him to Max. Only my command that Max 'hold' him saved his life. Max has been trained to act on his own to protect me, and he will, but he knows how I feel about Lucy so she falls under his protection, as well. Craig would be well advised to leave town."

"He will. He works for me and he's about to be transferred to Wyoming. I have a mine out there in God's country. It's forty miles to the nearest town and it will be perfect for him. Of course, he could just resign, but then I'll handle him in a different way."

"Don't do anything illegal, Jonathan. I'd hate to have to arrest my future father-in-law."

He laughed, but he also knew that I was dead serious. He showed that he understood because a few seconds later he told all of us, "I did tell you I liked a direct man, didn't I? I wouldn't respect you if you were any different." He held out his hand and I shook it. Lucy and I left a minute later after her parents had petted Max. I had held each of their hands just as I had with Lucy. They were surprised at how gentle he could be. I hoped that was all they would ever see of Max.

Lucy directed me to the middle of the three garage doors then jumped out to open it. She stood aside as I drove my SUV into the large space. Sure enough, to my left was a new red Mercedes convertible. Laughing as I let Max out I said, "I can see you've been slumming over the past two weeks."

"I'd ride in an old clunker if it meant I could be with you, Matt. C'mon, let me show you the house. Mi casa es su casa!"

"Be careful, Spanglish is my native language." She laughed again then pulled my lips down for a long hot and wet kiss. Breaking it, she took my hand and led Max and me through the door to a mud room complete with a washer, dryer, ironing board, and laundry sink in addition to a long coat rack and shoe rack beneath. I thought at the time that this room was almost as big as my studio apartment in Carolina Beach.

Lucy led me into the kitchen where my senses were assaulted by the aroma of a pie being baked. I was introduced to the cook/maid, a Scandinavian woman named Ingrid. I was surprised to see a set of blue ceramic bowls on a rubber mat. Both said "Max." She showed me the dining room, living room, library, and family room at the rear of the house with two sets of French doors leading to a huge stone patio and pool with a hot tub that looked like it could hold ten people.

"Now we're coming to my favorite part—our bedroom." She whispered as we walked up the stairs. I was sure that Max would have been capering at Lucy's feet had he not been told to heel. There were more rooms here than I wanted to count. Lucy showed me where her home office was and told me that she'd have a second desk, comfortable chair and computer in place before I could return. The room, the smallest of the six bedrooms, was actually bigger than my studio, by far.

Finally, she led me to our bedroom. It was huge, at least 400 square feet with two big walk-in closets and a big master bathroom with a separate commode room, twin basins, and a big Jacuzzi. "This is my favorite, Matt," Lucy said as she walked into the shower. It was the new kind with multiple heads on four walls and no door. "I can't wait for you to bring me in here," she whispered.

I met the other maid and the gardener and I insisted that they call me Matt rather than Mr. Cahill. Lucy giggled when they called me Mr. Matt and I let it go. It wasn't worth arguing about. However, there was a major discussion when I was asked what I wanted for dinner. "What do you have," I innocently asked. Lucy giggled again, but harder than she had earlier. I looked at her and asked, "What?"

"What would you like for dinner, Matt, if you could choose anything," my bride-to-be asked.

I thought for about twenty seconds before answering, "It's been a while since I last had chicken. Could I possibly get it southern fried?"

"Yes, my love—you can and will have chicken and it will be southern fried. I like it that way, too." She sent the cook away then tiptoed up to kiss me. "I can see you're not accustomed to living like this—with a lot of money and servants. All you have to do is ask and it will be done if humanly possible. Did you notice those two big stainless steel doors in the kitchen?"

"Sure, but I just figured they were for a big refrigerator."

"Well, the one on the left is for a walk-in freezer and the one on the right is for a walk-in refrigerator. We always have a lot of food available and our beef is dry aged for more than three weeks before it's served, just like at Carter's or any other big fancy restaurant. Why don't we put on some bathing suits and go for a swim?"

"I don't have any trunks—only a pair of running shorts. I'm afraid I'll hang out of them."

She laughed like hell then she whispered, "Goody!"