The Man Upstairs. Pamela Bauer
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want to know is what he’s like when he’s not slamming bodies up against the boards. This thirty-one-year-old bachelor may look like every girl’s dream with those baby-blue eyes, but don’t expect him to behave like the boy next door. Taming this bad boy is definitely going to be a challenge. He’s been quoted as saying that the woman hasn’t been born yet who can tempt him to hang up his blades.”
Dena rolled her eyes and groaned. “And this is the guy I have to ask for a donation for a charity event?” As she turned the page a photograph of Quinn Sterling stared back at her. Without his helmet he still looked rugged. And tough. And handsome.
He also looked familiar. Again she asked herself why. Her answer came as she noticed the small scar along his jaw—a scar that hadn’t been noticeable on the videotape.
She had seen him before. The night of Maddie’s wedding. In the men’s rest room. Dressed in a suit, he’d looked very different from the man in the hockey uniform. He’d flirted with her, and she smiled as she remembered their encounter.
The question was, would he remember her? She doubted it, not with the number of women who probably came and went in his life. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t even be a blip on his memory radar.
All weekend she watched for a sign that he was home, but not once did she see him or his silver SUV parked out back. His absence made her do something she hadn’t done on previous Monday mornings. She went into the kitchen on the main floor.
“This is a nice surprise,” Leonie Donovan greeted her. “I was beginning to think you didn’t eat breakfast.”
Dena didn’t want to admit that she often skipped breakfast and simply said, “I usually grab something on the way to work.”
Leonie nodded in understanding. “You put in long hours, don’t you?” She didn’t expect an answer to her question and continued, “Krystal’s the same way. I haven’t seen much of her lately, either.”
“What about Mr. Sterling? Does he use the kitchen much?” she asked as she busied herself getting a cup of tea.
“Quinn? No.” There was a hint of regret in her voice. “When I had the third floor remodeled, I put in an efficiency kitchen up there, but I doubt he does much cooking. He’s seldom home.”
Dena filled the kettle and set it on the stove. “I noticed. Actually, I’ve been trying to connect with him.”
Leonie raised her eyebrows. “You have?”
She nodded. “I have a favor to ask him. Maybe you can tell me if you think he’d be interested in this.” She sat down across from Leonie and told her about the charity event being held at the high school, including what items had already been donated to the auction. “I was hoping he’d be willing to autograph a stick or some other hockey memorabilia for the event.”
“I don’t see any reason why he wouldn’t do it, especially since he went to the same high school as Aaron Jorgenson,” she said over her cup of coffee.
“He did? I knew he was from St. Paul, but I didn’t realize that.”
She nodded, then set her cup back in its saucer. “His family used to live right around the corner. He was always over here with my boys, slapping pucks around on the small skating rink my husband would make in the backyard every winter.”
Which would explain why he was at Dylan and Maddie’s wedding, Dena concluded silently. “Did you ever think he’d get to the NHL?”
“I knew he loved the game,” she admitted, then smiled. “Lots of young boys dream of becoming professional athletes. I think mine did at one time, too. It’s nice to see that dream come true for Quinn. If anybody deserves it, he does. He’s worked hard to get where he is.” There was admiration and respect in her voice, which had Dena wondering if Leonie realized the kind of player Quinn was.
“You sound very fond of him,” she commented.
Leonie smiled. “I am, and with good reason. He’s a good guy. I’m going to have to introduce you two.”
An alarm rang in Dena’s head. One of her reservations about moving into 14 Valentine Place had concerned her landlady’s occupation. Maddie had told her Leonie was a romance coach, but she had also assured her that her mother-in-law wasn’t the kind to try to do any matchmaking with her tenants. Now Dena wasn’t so sure Maddie had been right about that.
As if Leonie could read her mind, she said, “Don’t look so frightened. I’m not going to throw you two together with a couple of candles and some Barry Manilow music. I just meant you should know each other because you’re neighbors. I like to think that my tenants look out for one another.”
Dena gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion.”
“It’s all right. I should have explained to you when you moved in just what it is a romance coach does. I help people put romance in their lives. Have you seen my column in the paper…Dear Leonie?”
Dena nodded.
“Then you know what kind of questions people bring to me about romance. I also teach a class on making relationships last. And I’m thinking about adding one on flirting.”
Dena thought, judging by the way Quinn Sterling had flirted with her, he’d be a good resource, but she didn’t tell Leonie that.
“I also do one-on-one counseling. When it comes to romance, some people really don’t have a clue, and sometimes all they need is a little push in the right direction. My goal has always been for people to discover the joy romance can bring. There’s nothing more wonderful than the right somebody to love.”
Dena didn’t want to tell her that so far that particular pleasure had evaded her. Not that she was looking for it. The romantic relationships she’d had thus far had suited her just fine. Not exactly romantic, but they hadn’t left her brokenhearted, either.
“So you see, Dena, I’m really not a matchmaker,” Leonie concluded.
She smiled in relief. “That’s good to hear. I’m really not looking for the right somebody to love.”
She held up one hand. “I understand. I told you when you moved in that I regard all of my tenants as just that—tenants. Their personal lives are their own, as is mine. When we’re in this house, we’re simply friends. Fair enough?”
Dena nodded. She could see why Maddie had come to regard Leonie as a mother long before she’d married Dylan. Dena knew it would be tempting to let this woman mother her, especially since her own mother had never really filled that role.
“Now, back to Quinn. With all the Cougar road trips, it’s no surprise the two of you haven’t met,” Leonie said thoughtfully.
“We both have busy schedules, I’m sure.”
Leonie nodded. “And he keeps to himself. I know Krystal talks with him occasionally, but then Krystal can get anyone to talk. Quinn values his privacy. It’s one of the reasons he lives here. With the success he’s had, he could afford a fancy penthouse apartment anywhere, yet he chose to rent the third floor of my house.”
“This is a lovely place,” Dena told her. “It has a charm you don’t find in newer housing.”
“Why, thank you, Dena. I’m glad you like it here.”
“I do.” It was the truth. She’d had her reservations about sharing a bath and the kitchen with the other tenants, but she’d discovered that Maddie had been right. There was something about the big old Victorian house that made her feel comfortable.
“I figured if you were a good friend of Maddie’s that you’d fit in with us,” Leonie said with a twinkle in her eye.
Dena was beginning to think she would, too. At least with Krystal and Leonie. As for the man upstairs…she guessed it really didn’t matter whether they liked each other. He was never around,