A Home for my Heart

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

A HOME FOR MY HEART

First edition. April 17, 2018.

Copyright © 2018 Lisa Ballenger.

ISBN: 978-1386695028

Written by Lisa Ballenger.

Also by Lisa Ballenger

A Home for my Heart

Do Not Disturb

Follow Your Dreams

Love Gifts

A Home for My Heart

By Lisa Ballenger

To Doug......all my love....

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER ONE

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Julia was exhausted, hot and ready to go home. After roaming the Kiawah Island Oceanside golf course for the last five hours, she’d settled in near the eighteenth green to wait for the tournament to end.

Way to go Adam. Super shot. The words were barely audible over the deafening screams of the crowd surging around her, closing off her view. She snatched her canvas bag and sketchpad off the grass seconds before his adoring fans trampled them.

He must be back. She uncrossed her long legs and stood. Stretching her stiff neck, she strained to see over the heads crammed together in front of her  .

Julia grimaced as the winner sauntered off the green toward a tent set up in front of the clubhouse. He tipped his hat to the hometown crowd and grinned, white teeth a stark contrast to his tanned skin and dark hair.

A petite blonde woman in skimpy purple shorts and white tank top wiggled up and hugged him. Drawing her close, he turned to the gathering media, oblivious to the noise and people edging their way toward him.

Shoving through the throng assembling behind a sign marked  Autographs Here, Julia headed to the parking lot behind the exclusive South Carolina resort  .

How many women does one man need worshiping him?

#

Julia rushed into Joe William's office Monday morning, slowing when she noticed her boss on his phone. He held up a finger and mouthed one minute, then motioned her toward the oblong conference table in the corner of the room. She set her coffee mug and sketchpad on the table and slipped into a burgundy cloth chair.

So how'd it go Sunday? Joe asked, hanging up the phone. Learn anything about golf...or golfers?

I got a few ideas. She paused, sipping her coffee. But I was really surprised at the fans. I always thought golf was such a quiet game, but those women went crazy trying to get to this one player.

Hmmm... Joe twisted around to his credenza.

She was still shocked how the women acted. They’d not only screamed, but pushed their way to the front of the crowds at each hole, just to get closer to him. Treated him like a rock star and he’d loved it. Stopping to speak to them, he’d signed programs and hugged quit a few of them.

Julia flipped open her pad, leafing through her work. So tell me more about the project and why you sent me out there to draw all these clothes.

Hopefully he planned to make her the project’s lead designer. After eight years at Image Works it was what she’d been waiting for. To make clients happy with her own creations.

Okay. Joe sank into the executive chair at the end of the pine table and rolled forward. Let's go over some of those sketches and talk about the details.

Joe, they're here. His secretary leaned into the room, her hand on the doorknob.

Great. Bring them on in. Joe jumped up and moved around the table.

Adam, it's so good to see you again. He grabbed the man entering the door and pulled him into a bear hug. That was quite an exciting win out there yesterday.

Adam? Julia clenched the arms of her chair.

Thanks. I got a little lucky. Adam turned to a man standing silently behind him. Joe, this is Calvin Avery, my agent. I think y’all talked on the phone a few times.

Calvin, an inch or two shorter than Julia's five foot nine inches had long ago passed chubby on his way to rotund. He was a vision of bland in his brown suit, beige shirt and tan leather briefcase.

Come on over here you two and let me introduce you to a great designer. Grabbing Julia’s elbow, Joe pushed her toward the guests. This is Julia Grant.

Julia, meet Adam Hamilton. I’ve known him since... Joe winked at Adam. Oh well, since he was baby, I guess. His daddy and I played ball together in college.

Adam captured her extended hand between his broad palms. It’s great to meet you, Julia. His voice was deep, almost hypnotic, the southern accent slipping seductively around each word. This might turn out to be fun after all.

Julia tilted her head back to look up into his face. Damn it, why did he have to be so sexy?

Adam. She acknowledged him with a slight nod. Nice to meet you.

Giving her hand a final squeeze, he turned to pat Calvin on the back. And say hi to Calvin here. He’s got plenty of ideas to help us out.

We can always use another good idea, Calvin. Julia gave the appropriate answer, but seriously doubted Calvin’s creative abilities.

Miss Grant. Tipping his head formally, Calvin offered a beefy, cold hand that with one limp shake drained the warmth right out of Julia’s skin. Recoiling from his touch, she fought the urge to thrust her hands up the sleeves of her sweater.

All right, Joe said. Everyone grab a seat and let’s get started.

As they settled in at the table, Adam slouched back in the chair across, crossing one bare ankle over the knee of his other leg. Dressed in brown loafers, khaki cotton slacks and an orange golf shirt with the logo of a California country club, she half expected him to whip out a golf club and start swinging.

Next to him Calvin perched stiffly on the edge of his seat lining up his pens, leather portfolio, and a folder with Adam's name and Image Works typed neatly on the label. How in the world did these two ever get together?

Julia, what they need here is for us to create a clothing line for Adam to wear on tour, Joe said. And then they also might want to look at selling a few of the pieces to the public later on. Joe turned to Adam and Calvin. Does that about sum it up?

What I need are some comfortable clothes. Adam smiled directly at Julia. The dark hair, looking almost black now, fell casually over his forehead from a cowlick on the left side. I've got to be able to play golf in them, you know.

Of course, comfort is important. Calvin frowned at Adam, tapping his Mont Blanc pen on his portfolio. But there is a certain image that we must portray.

Calvin looked at Julia. Adam is the number one ranked golfer in the world. His sponsors are major corporations and he is in great demand to make many appearances for them. He paused, raising his chin. He is also very popular with his fans and they expect a lot from him.

Yes, she remembered those fans. Swarming all around him yesterday.

Sure, Calvin. Adam yawned as he folded his hands behind his head and stretched backwards. That's all they care about. My image.

Calvin cast Adam a reproving look. You know that many people come to see you play that don’t know anything about golf. Pointing his pen at Adam, he continued. They come just to see you. To get your autograph. To be around a celebrity.

I think we understand, Joe said smoothly. I'm sure we can come up with something you'll both like. He nodded toward Julia. As I said, Julia's a brilliant designer.

She smiled at Joe. He was always applauding her work, but she still couldn’t get used to it. Compliments, encouragement, hugs, all those things most kids take for granted growing up, never found their way to her. Until Joe.

Well Julia, what do you say we get out of here and talk clothes? Adam stood and leaned over the table toward Julia, hands spread out in front of him, his dark brown eyes boring into hers.

Julia can go with me, can't she? Adam turned to Joe. Looks like we’ll need to get to work on this right away.

Joe nodded. That's the idea, Adam.

So, let's go. Adam shifted around the table, grabbing Joe's hand in a quick shake as he passed. We'll leave the business details to these two guys while we work on the fun part.

Staring at Joe, Julia's eyes pleaded for him to rescue her.

I think it'll be good for you two to spend some time together. Joe motioned for her to leave. I’m sure your one day on the golf course isn’t enough to understand what Adam needs.

Come on now, Julia. Adam rolled her chair backwards as she clutched at her pad and coffee cup in one hand and grabbed the chair arm with the other. You heard him. Time to go find out what I need.

Well...I guess we can go to my office.

No way. We're going to the club. He captured her hand and tugged her out of the room. Joe, tell Susan I'll drop by to see her soon.

The golf course? Are you crazy?

I need to practice you know. Adam laughed. I can't take off all day.

He’s the client, she reminded herself. He’s the client and Joe’s friend.

Well, all right. Let me get my purse.

Coming out of her office a few minutes later, Julia found Adam resting casually against her secretary’s desk. Her design staff, both girls in their early twenties, flanked his outstretched legs. Their eyes and mouths formed round circles as they soaked up his attention.

I'm ready, Julia announced. Adam touched the girls lightly on their arms as he stood between them and turned to Julia, his smile still in place.

Well, not quite now Julia. He strolled the few feet to where she stood. Where do you live?

Why? She tried to ignore the giggles from the girls still huddling where Adam left them.

You need to change your clothes. With his hand on the small of her back, Adam pushed her toward the exit, stopping only long enough to lean around her and shove the door open. That outfit’s great for the office, but it’ll look kind of silly when you’re riding in a golf cart.

Oh. Pausing in the doorway, she glanced down at her navy pencil skirt and designer heals. I guess you're right.

Shading her eyes as they stepped into the bright sunshine, Julia stuck her other hand in her shoulder purse, rifling around for her keys.

Where's your car? I'll follow you.

She withdrew her hand from the bag. Of all days not to have the car. Actually, I forgot. My car's in the shop.

No problem. He led her to a dark green Suburban SUV parked in front of the building and opened the passenger door. Here you go. Adam ran around and hopped in the driver's side.

Well? He pulled rapidly out of the parking lot. Where to?

Summitt West.

The smell of the luxurious beige leather seats and a window price sticker carelessly thrown in the back seat screamed new. All the extra gadgets screamed expensive.

Very nice. Just get it?

Yeah. Grinning, he whipped around a car. Picked it up last week.  He nodded toward the rear of the vehicle. Needed something to carry all my gear when I'm home.

Enough room for your gear and a few of your women, I bet.

After turning into her neighborhood, he hit the brakes at the first stop sign. Which way?

She pointed to a small two-story wooden gray house with black shutters. Over there. Pull in the drive if you want. I'll just be a few minutes... She stopped talking as Adam parked and reached for a duffel bag in the back seat. What's that for?

I need to change, too. You don't mind, do you? He jumped out of the Suburban and had her door open before she could answer.

As she slung her legs out the door and slipped off the seat, her skirt crept up her thighs. Julia grabbed her hem with one hand and the door with the other, launching her purse from her lap to the ground.

Adam stooped down to rescue her purse then rose slowly, his eyes roaming up her legs, past her waist, pausing at her chest, then stopping at her eyes.

Need a hand? He arched his eyebrows.

No thank you. Julia seized her purse. I can manage.

She unlocked the front door and led him into a tiny entryway dominated by stairs and an oversized watercolor of downtown Charleston gardens and houses.

You can use the bathroom on this floor or the guest bedroom upstairs.

This’ll be fine. He moved toward a door under the stairs.

Ten minutes later, running down the stairs, Julia missed the edge of the last step and stumbled forward, landing a few feet from the front door. She grimaced as she glanced into the living room and saw Adam coming toward her, his hand out.

You all right there, Julia?

I was trying to hurry. She turned away, a blush crawling from her chest to her forehead.

No complaints here. I love to see a woman so anxious to see me.

That's not what I meant. Rolling her eyes upward, she jerked the door open. Let’s go.

As he steered into traffic, Julia sat silently. Once on the highway, he turned toward her, blatantly looking her over from head to toe. Her shorts revealed toned tan legs and the t-shirt was just tight enough to show her smallish, but firm breasts. It was a conservative outfit, but the way he was looking, you’d think she was in a string bikini.

Her light brown hair, streaked with blonde highlights, curved around her chin as she leaned forward to grab her sunglasses from the bag on the floor.

Must he be so obvious? She resisted the impulse to cross her arms across her chest  .

Barely ten minutes later, Adam parked in front of the clubhouse and bound out the door. I'll be right back.

This country club wasn't as fancy as the one at Kiawah where she first saw Adam, but it was still nice. Acura’s, Volvo’s and similar vehicles lined the parking lot, with golfers milling around, flowing in and out of the white colonial building housing a clubhouse and restaurant.

She strolled to the back of the Suburban when Adam drove up in the golf cart.

He leaned into the cargo space to gather his clubs, the cotton cloth stretching tightly across his rear. He’d replaced the slacks with a pair of slightly rumpled khaki shorts, leaving on the orange golf shirt. A faded navy Clemson University Tigers ball cap was pulled low on his head.

As he eased back, Julia jerked her eyes away from his body. He was a client for goodness sakes.

While he swapped his tennis shoes for golf shoes, she slipped into the cart. He jumped in next to her and pushed the accelerator. As he did a quick 360-degree turn, she went flying against his shoulder.

Well, that's a trick I'll have to remember, Adam said laughing.

She scrambled back to her side of the cart. I'm sure that's not the first time you've used it.

Stopping the cart at a small wooden hut, Adam handed the man in the window a ticket. Any chance we can go out alone, sir? Julia’s here to work on my clothes and we'd rather not be paired up.

The man smiled when he saw Adam's name on the tee time list and nodded toward Julia. Sure thing, Adam. I know it's important for you to get some good solid practice time in. He winked. And you don't need too many fans hanging all over you while you try to work.

Thanks a bunch. Adam hit the gas and they rumbled over the rocky ground past a sign pointing to the first tee.