Once Upon A Chocolate Kiss

Samantha gaped.

Richard gaped as well. Obviously that was not the tack he had expected Angela to take. It hadn’t been Samantha’s guess either.

“It’s perfect,” Angela continued. “You need a place to stay and Sam has an empty apartment.”

“I—I—” Samantha started.

“Uh-hmm,” Richard cleared his throat.

She knew where her friend was headed. Angela had been after her for years to loosen up and date—and she’d just found the perfect candidate.

“I don’t want to intrude…” Richard began.

“It’s no imposition. Sam really needs to rent out that apartment. Money is tight right now. She could use the rent.”

Please, God, just open a hole in the floor and swallow me up, she thought dismally.

“Angela!”

Amazingly enough, the man, instead of being shocked, chuckled. “You are a true businesswoman, Angela.”

His gaze returned to Samantha. “I think your friend has sold me on the idea. However, since you own the apartment, I would think the final decision is up to you. How much do you charge a month?”

Samantha stared at her friend. Rent. Money. That would tide them over, she suddenly realized. At least until February. The firm “no” to renting to this man dissipated before it could be voiced.

Angela named a price.

Samantha started to protest, but Richard nodded. “More than fair for a one-bedroom, one bath.”

“Actually, it’s a two-bedroom,” Samantha interrupted, weakly feeling it best to point that out. This was payback, she thought. It had to be. If she had bowled this man over tonight, she was certainly getting bowled over now, as he and Angela made plans about the apartment before she could comment one way or another.

His warm gaze returned to her, making her forget that she’d even entertained such an idea as payback. That gentle look touched her with acceptance, no hint of her earlier actions in his expression. He really was serious about renting the apartment.

Money.

Maybe God had heard her prayers, after all!

“Even better,” Richard added. “Do I get to see it?”

Samantha hesitated. “The service elevator will take you upstairs, but maybe Angela could drive you to pick up your things first so I can do another cleaning before you move in.”

Samantha had been using the place for storage and wanted to move the boxes out. Why hadn’t she thought of renting the room before?

He started to protest. She saw the objection in his eyes. Then he nodded.

“However, I insist on taking a cab.”

“But…” Angela started.

He shook his head. “The ice has really helped. I can hobble back to the hotel and pack my things. What about picking up the keys tomorrow?”

Samantha thought that sounded superb. She nodded. “I— Wow.” She sighed.

Angela chuckled. “God answers prayers, Mr. Moore. Do you believe that?”

Richard smiled at Samantha, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “I do—now.”

She had no idea what he meant by that. She did, however, know what her friend meant. With a short warning glare at Angela, she stood.

“Let me get you a cane to at least help you, Mr. Moore. Then we’ll see to your cab.” She paused. “I can’t apologize enough for what happened this evening.”

His gaze met hers firmly and he replied, so sure of himself that it sent chills down her spine.

“And I can’t thank you enough. If you hadn’t run into me, I might not have met you. And that would have been the greater accident.”

She hesitated at that accent of his, thinking how absolutely appealing it was. Shaking her head, she smiled. “The apartment. Of course. Yes. You found an apartment.”

And before he could contradict her, Samantha fled back to the supply room to find her grandmother’s walking cane.

Just when things had looked dismal, God had answered her prayers.

The sound of firecrackers outside told her it must be midnight. A new year and a new day.

Chapter Three

Dillon Sandal stared at his friend. “You’re what?”

Richard zipped closed his garment bag and carefully turned. “I’ve rented an apartment and I’m taking a few weeks off.”

Dillon ran a hand through his jet-black hair, exasperation clear in his action. “You just got here. How did you find an apartment so quickly? No, wait. First, answer what happened to your foot.”

Dillon strode forward, jerked the garment bag from his friend’s hands and carried it over to where Richard’s other suitcases sat.

Richard shrugged. Shifting the crutches under his arms he replied, “I broke my ankle.”

Richard had gone home, but, unable to sleep because of the pain, he had finally admitted defeat and gone to the emergency room. Surprisingly, one of the ankle bones had a hairline fracture. Samantha was going to love that, he thought ruefully. He probably wouldn’t live it down.

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have taken you to the hospital. When I left you last night, you were in here, alone.”

He paced back to his friend. “I come here this morning to find you packing, and in a partial cast, no less, talking about renting an apartment. And now you’re taking a bit of extra time off—”

“You should be glad. That means you’ll get to run everything until I recover.”

“I run everything anyway,” Dillon muttered. Dillon and Richard had gone to college together. Dillon was the one close friend Richard had.

Whenever a new store opened, Dillon took on the role of manager to oversee the hiring and ensure a smooth transition as it took place in the community. Richard usually came to make sure publicity was seen to, as well as a million and one other things. After all, he was being groomed to take over the business one day. His father thought he should know each store personally. So, while his maternal grandfather was the figurehead appearing in most of the commercials and interviews, and his da was the CEO who ran things now, Richard was left as the man behind the scenes doing the legwork for all the store openings.

Dillon dropped into one of the chairs and crossed his khaki-covered legs.