What You Do to Me (The Haneys Book 1) Read online

  “Not exactly. I want the man to make a pass at her, that’s all. You know as well as I do Haley would never act on it, but having a gorgeous man want her might be all it takes to get her moving in the right direction again.”

  “That’s fine, Trudy, but I can’t see Haley making a pass at Hands-On-Haney, and like Sam said on the radio, it’s the women who come on to him, not the other way around. There’s no guarantee he’ll do anything but the job if she’s not the one to make the first move.”

  “Oh, crap.” Her bubble of optimism burst. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Not only that, but . . . say you set this up, he does make a pass at her and she says no? What if he’s the type of man who won’t take no for an answer. You don’t know anything about Sam Haney. You could be setting Haley up for a dangerous situation.”

  “I don’t think so. You heard Yvonne on the radio. Her friends recommended the handyman to her. Surely the women he’s been with would have sensed if he were a bully or the predator type. The divorcée spoke about him in glowing terms. She said he was wonderful.”

  “That’s true but—”

  “Besides, he divulged his full identity on the air for everybody to hear. Criminal and predator types wouldn’t do that.”

  “That’s also true.” Her sister’s voice held a thoughtful note. “You know what?”

  Yay. Here comes another idea-squashing comment. “What?”

  “Nobody can tell your voice apart from Haley’s over the phone, right?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  Her sister sighed, and said nothing for a few seconds.

  “What am I missing here?” Trudy asked, a tad curtly.

  “Haley isn’t going to proposition Sam the handyman. We know that, but what if you make the call pretending to be Haley when you set up the appointment? You could make the first move on her behalf. That way, by the time he gets to her house, he’ll already be primed and raring to go. He’ll make a pass at her thinking he’s only responding to her come-hither request.”

  “You’re saying I should come right out and tell him I want him to . . . as Haley, that is . . . that I want . . .” It came to her in a flash. She knew exactly what to say. After all, Sam must know lots of women had listened to this morning’s radio show. She’d make it clear that she’d heard Loaded Question and hint that she wanted his special touch. “Oh, that’s brilliant.”

  “Of course it’s brilliant, but if it ends up being another one of your calamities, I know nothing. Nothing at all. We never had this conversation.”

  “Fine, and if it ends well, I get all the glory.”

  Chapter Two

  “Caffeine . . . I need coffee.” Haley yawned and picked up the empty mug from her desk. She stood up and stretched before heading for the law office’s break room. This was going to be a busy Monday, and once again, she hadn’t slept well the night before. Gee, it would be nice to get a good night’s sleep. Maybe she’d try one of those over-the-counter sleep aids tonight.

  The sound of laughter drifted out of the break room. How long had it been since she’d laughed? Too long. She walked into the kitchen area and headed for the coffeepot. “What’s so funny?”

  Their newest law intern, along with Haley’s two best friends and fellow paralegals, Kathy and Felicia, sat at one of the round tables. Kathy gestured toward the radio on the counter. “It’s over now, but we were laughing about KS96’s Loaded Question. This morning’s question was: What’s the sluttiest thing you’ve ever done?” Kathy went on to give her a brief description of what had transpired with the divorcée and the handyman named Sam Haney.

  “The woman actually said after Sam did the job, she did him!” Felicia giggled. “The handyman said women throw themselves at him on the job all the time. Can you imagine?”

  “It’s going viral. I’m seeing tweets and Facebook posts already, and the radio station’s website is flooded with comments,” Kathy added, scrolling down the screen of her tablet. “I can’t believe the guy gave his real name—his entire name.”

  “Let me see that,” Haley said, holding her hand out for Kathy’s tablet. She read a few of the comments before handing the tablet back. People had plenty to say about the handyman, and none of it was good. The guy probably regretted making that call this morning.

  “Identifying himself on the air the way he did is a lawsuit waiting to happen.” The law intern’s face lit up. “I’m going to call him and offer my services—pro-boner, of course.”

  Another round of giggles ensued. That joke was as old as the Egyptian pyramids. Haley returned to the counter to pour coffee into her mug. “Do you believe it really happened? I think shows like that are setups. They’re staged.”

  “Oh,” the law intern—what was her name again?—nodded. “I know it happens. I have a friend who brags all the time about how she’s done it with the UPS guy and the guy who does her townhouse’s lawn care. You’d be surprised.”

  “I guess I would be.” Haley leaned back against the counter. “There’s no way I’d crawl into bed with a complete stranger. Would any of you do that?”

  “You mean to tell me you’ve never had a one-night stand?” Felicia asked, her coffee-brown eyes widening.

  “Nope, I never have.” Her heart wrenched. She’d gone from high school to college to being engaged to being dumped—all with the same man. Her one and only lover, the man who had broken her heart and left her. Practically at the altar.

  “Haley, you need to get out more.” Felicia waggled a finger at her. “We have to plan a girls’ night out. You’ve been moping around here for months now. It’s time to move on.”

  “Yes.” Kathy thumped her empty mug on the table like a gavel. “Girls’ night out. Count me in.”

  “Me too.” Law Intern’s face lit up. “I know where there’s a male strip club. How about it, ladies? Get a stack of ones and let her rip?”

  “All right.” Felicia pushed the intern’s shoulder. “You’re OK, Melissa. I like you.”

  Oh, yeah. Melissa. That was her name. “Sounds like fun.” Not really. “But I think I’ll pass. I’m in the middle of remodeling my house and—”

  “Girl, you’re in the middle of destroying your house.” Felicia shook her head. “Kathy and I have been there, remember?”

  Heat crept up her neck to fill her cheeks. She and Michael had intended to remodel the place together, and she was bound and determined to do so despite his defection, or maybe because of it. She had to prove to herself that she could manage on her own. “Of course I remember. Thanks again for helping me with the wedding’s-been-cancelled cards.” She turned to the sink and grabbed a paper towel to wipe up any coffee drips she could find. “Anyway, a strip club isn’t exactly my thing.”

  “All right, a nightclub crawl in Minneapolis then,” Melissa offered. “Anywhere where there are single men, loud music and alcohol.”

  “Come on, Haley,” Kathy cajoled. “It’ll be fun. We haven’t gone out for more than lunch in ages. Let’s do this.”

  “All right.” She sighed. “I’ll be the designated driver.” Felicia was right. She needed to stop moping. It was time she moved on, and going out with friends might just be the best thing for her.

  “Uh, no.” Felicia snorted. “We’re all going to pitch in and pay my little brother to be our chauffeur for the evening. He’s in college. That boy is always broke. We’ll be doing him a favor.” She pushed her chair back and rose from her place. “This coming Saturday good for everybody?”

  “I’m free.” Melissa got up as well. “Kathy?”

  “It’ll work for me, and I’ll make sure Haley doesn’t bail on us. Your brother can pick up both of us at her house . . . if it’s still standing.”

  “Hey.” Haley frowned. “Things are coming along just fine with my house,” she lied. “If you’re that concerned, I can come to your place to be picked up.”

  “Nu-uh. I’ll be at your house at seven sharp. We’ll go have dinner somewhere first. Be ready to party.”
Kathy rose from the table. “I have to get to work. I have depositions to process this morning.”

  “Me too.” Felicia followed. “E-mail me your address, Melissa. We’ll be by for you right after we pick up Kathy and Haley.”

  “OK.” Melissa grinned. “This is going to be great. I don’t know about you, but I could use some fun.”

  Haley caught the intern’s infectious smile and returned one of her own. She’d never really done the club scene before. Sure, she’d gone to dinner and a movie with friends, and she’d gone dancing with Michael, but a club crawl? Not so much. Maybe it would be fun. She took her coffee from the counter and headed for the door. Once she settled herself at her desk, her cell phone chirped with her mom’s ringtone. She fished it out of her purse. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”

  “Hi, honey. Are you going to be home late Saturday afternoon?”

  “Sure. What do you need?”

  “It’s not what I need, Haley,” her mom muttered. “It’s what you need.”

  “Oh?” Haley blinked. “What do I need?”

  “Help with your house, that’s what. It’s a disaster area, and your father and I are concerned.”

  Why today of all days was everyone ragging on her about her house? Her brow creased. “No, it’s not. I’m just in the demolition phase. The tear-out is always messy. Wait until I start the new install part, and then you’ll see. It’s going to be great.”

  “Give it up, Haley Helen. You’re in over your head.” Her mom let go one of her famous long-suffering sighs. “Your father and I have decided to give you an early birthday present. We’ve hired a construction company slash handyman service to help you put things back together. We’re paying, so you cannot argue with me about this. Any day now I expect to hear on the news about a poor woman whose house has collapsed on top of her, name not to be released pending notification of her relatives. That would be us, your family.”

  “Mom!” OK, so her mother wasn’t far off the mark. How-to videos and do-it-yourself books weren’t really working for her. She wasn’t finding it difficult to tear things apart, but putting them back together eluded her, and that made her feel helpless and overwhelmed to the point where she became immobilized. She and Michael had purchased the post-WWII story-and-a-half bungalow together, and he’d signed over full ownership to her before he left. Her heart thumped painfully at the thought of him.

  She forced her mind away from the hurt. “I guess it would be nice to have a functioning kitchen again . . . and a bathroom.” She glanced at the clock. She had to wrap this call up and get to work. “The only time this construction company can send someone to do an estimate is on a Saturday afternoon? I’m leaving at seven sharp. Do you think they’ll be done in enough time for me to get ready?”

  “They’re a busy company. Besides, Saturday was the only time I could make an appointment for you that didn’t interfere with your job.” Her mother paused. “Do you have a date Saturday night?”

  The hopefulness in her mother’s voice really sucked. Haley pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. I’m going out with Kathy, Felicia and a new law intern from the firm.”

  “Oh.”

  How could one two-letter word carry such a load of disappointment? She bit her lip again, this time to refrain from responding. Her mother was an expert at this game, and Haley didn’t want to provide her with the next volley.

  “I’m sure the estimator will be finished well before you need to leave.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” She knew better than to fight this. Trudy Cooper was no quitter when it came to managing the lives of her children. “Maybe I can watch and learn while things are being fixed. I do appreciate the help. Tell Dad thank you for me.”

  “Tell him yourself. You are coming for Sunday dinner, right?”

  Haley smiled. Sunday dinners with her family were a tradition, one that had definitely helped her get through these past few months. “Of course. I’ll bring a vegetable dish. Will Junior make it this time?”

  “He’d better. It’s a requirement for his continued support while he flounders away our money on multiple undergrad majors.” Trudy snorted. “Frank Junior is giving me gray hair.”

  “You’ve been completely silver since you turned forty, Mom.” Haley laughed. “You keep trying to pin that on me and Frank, but we’re not taking the blame.”

  “Just wait until you have children, Haley. Just wait.”

  Haley’s eyes misted. What if she never did have children? What if she never found anyone to love her ever again? Why had her fiancé felt he had to move to the other side of the planet just to get away from her? Not knowing was the worst part. He’d refused to discuss his decision with her. He’d just . . . up and left.

  “I’ve got to get back to work. Thanks, Mom. I really do appreciate the gift. I’ll see you Sunday, and I’ll bring the estimate for the work on my house with me.”

  “You do that, sweetheart. See you Sunday.”

  Sliding her phone back into her purse, Haley forced herself to focus on work. Some wounds were just too painful to prod, and her broken heart was one of them. She should be looking forward to her girls’ night out, and she would, dammit. She would look forward—not backward.

  Sam’s phone vibrated in its belt holster. He put his nail driver down and pulled it out, checking the caller ID before answering. “Hey, Gramps. What’s up?”

  “Are you going to make it into the office for lunch today?”

  Sam glanced at the clock on his client’s wall. Unless a job kept them from it, he, his siblings, uncles, a few cousins and Gramps always gathered at the office for lunch. If they were lucky, Grandma Maggie brought lunch to them. If not, they had enough stuff in the fridge to feed an army. Eating together gave them a chance to run things by each other and talk about business. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Why?”

  “Come back to my office when you get here.” Grandpa Joe grunted. “We need to talk.”

  Uh-oh. “OK. See you then.” Grandpa Joe had already hung up by the time he got the last word out—as usual. Gramps hated to talk on the phone.

  Sam wiped his sweaty palms on his jean-clad thighs before picking up his nail driver again. Maybe Gramps hadn’t heard about this morning’s radio show, and he just wanted to discuss a job. A man could hope.

  Two hours later, he pulled his van into a parking spot in the small lot of Haney & Sons. He still got a rush of pride at the addition of the Handyman Service part of their sign. That had been his brainchild.

  When the housing market crashed, he’d suggested they offer repair and handyman services along with the remodeling and new construction that had always been their bread and butter. Folks were hunkering down, fixing up the houses they were in rather than trading up. Things were improving in the construction industry now, but the handyman service had kept them afloat during the rough patches, and they’d decided to keep it going.

  He enjoyed the variety of jobs he did as a handyman, though his first love would always be carpentry. They were at a point where they could take on a few more apprentices. In fact, he’d bring that up today.

  Sam stomped his feet, freeing his boots of construction debris, and walked through the side door and into the kitchen of the house they’d remodeled into their offices. He continued on down the hall to his grandfather’s office. The door was open. His grandfather sat behind his desk with the phone pressed to his ear. He scowled at Sam before scribbling something on the yellow message pad in front of him.

  They really needed to hire someone to answer the phones, file and do general office stuff, so Gramps could focus on other things. His cousin was there, dusting the shelves. “Hey, Jerry.” He gave his cousin a high five. “How’s it hanging?”

  Jerry’s slanted eyes and Down syndrome features lit with a radiant smile. “It’s h-hanging.” He waggled a finger at him. “You’re in t-trouble, S-Sam.”

  Great. Sam nodded and took a seat just as his grandfather hung up the phone.

  “Just what is it you think we’re
selling here, son?” Gramps gathered up a wad of yellow phone messages strewn over his desk and thrust them at him.

  Sam took them. “You heard about—”

  “Hell yes, I heard. Three-quarters of the Twin Cities’ female population heard. The phone has been ringing off the hook ever since your asinine on-the-air debut. You’d better hope your grandmother doesn’t know, because she’s on her way over.”

  He gulped. “I don’t suppose she’s bringing lunch.”

  “Lunch?” Grandpa Joe slapped his palm against his desk. The phone began to ring. Gramps ignored it. His bushy gray eyebrows dipped so low they nearly hid his eyes. Nearly. “Again, just what is it you think we’re selling here?”

  Sam shrugged, feeling like an eight-year-old. He ran his hand over the lower half of his face and studied the pile of messages in his fist. “There are a lot of potential jobs here. I—”

  “No,” Gramps gestured toward the messages, shaking his head, “this is not the way to get new business.”

  “I’m only human.” He crossed his arms in front of him. “Women throw themselves at me. It’s not me who—”

  “And what? You’ve eliminated the word no from your vocabulary? Don’t think for a minute I don’t know what goes on out there.” Gramps leaned back in his chair and waved a hand to indicate out there. “You might not believe this, but I was young and studly once. Believe you me, I had plenty of invitations on the job back then.”

  “You turned them all down?” Sam arched a brow. “You always said no?”

  “That’s not the point.” Gramps shifted the piles of clutter around on his desk. “Once I met your grandmother, that was it for me. I only had eyes for her. Still do. We Haney men can’t help ourselves when it comes to the one. After I met your grandmother, even the thought of being unfaithful shriveled my—”

  “I’m not looking for the one.” I just wanna have fun, not lookin’ for the one . . . He put his thoughts to rock-and-roll music inside his head. He should try his hand at songwriting. Another award sprang to mind, best songwriter of the year, a blue-collar blues award . . .