A Dream to Cling To by Sally Goldenbaum Page B

nearly as much of his own. And Sam had smiled and responded, and all the while had slowly, tenderly, made love to Brittany in his mind. Just the sight of her this afternoon had brought it all back, the tightness, the sensations—
    “I like them, Sam,” she said. “They’re exhilarating. Ideas flew around here so fast, I felt as if I were in the middle of a Ping-Pong game.”
    He picked up his pipe and leaned against the edge of the desk. “Good, I thought you’d approve. They’re great kids—and their differences mesh like a Monet painting.”
    “Where did you find them?” She tilted her head to one side and watched the smoke circle slowly above his head.
    “Here and there. I asked around. Jill is fresh out of Harvard. Quick as a whip and has a creative bent that doesn’t stop. She thought she’d go off to New York and find herself, but I corralled her with my charm and taught her about making games. And she’s terrific at it.”
    “And Tim?”
    “Tim was one of those kids who never fit in anywhere because no one understood the intricacies of his mind. The ideas that kid comes up with are incredible. I know he’ll push Creative Games into whole new directions.” Sam’s face lit up with excitement as he spoke, the pipe moving in rhythm with his words, his eyes flashing. “It’ll be something, you wait and see, Brittany Ellsbeth Winters. And you can say you were here in the early days.” His husky laugh rumbled through the cluttered office.
    “I don’t doubt that in the slightest, Sam. In the few short days I’ve known you, I’ve become convinced you can do most anything you put your mind to.”
    “Well, maybe that’s a
slight
exaggeration. Just a tad, though, mind you.” He laughed, a comfortable, infectious laugh that easily pulled Brittany into it.
    “What kind of plans
do
you have for Creative Games?” she asked.
    “Well …” He took a thoughtful draw on his pipe and stared off into space. “What I’d really like to do is make sure it can stand on its own two legs with enough clients to hold it up and support the kids—”
    “There you go again. Sam, they’re not kids!”
    He laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. They’re only kids when I remember that I started college when they were still running around and skinning their knees.”
    “How old are you?”
    “Thirty-five, I think. Age has never had much bearing on what I do or don’t do, though, so I don’t ever pay much attention to it. Anyway, I’d like to see that Jill, Gary, and Tim are earning enough to make it worththeir while. Then I’ll turn it over to them and let them run with it.”
    Brittany brushed aside the feeling of uneasiness that swept over her. “You’d leave the company?”
    “Oh, I can never let go of things completely. I’d hang around and on occasion push my nose into whatever they were doing. Let them tell me to get lost. ‘Consult,’ as the pros say. But I’d look for another project, mostly.”
    “Here in Windemere?”
    Sam paused for just a moment before answering. He’d been in Windemere nearly eighteen months this time. That was a long time. Yet somehow the words didn’t spill out as quickly as they usually did when he talked about moving on. Something about Brittany was tugging at him. Besides the physical pull—and that was as powerful as dynamite—there was something different, a feeling of being connected to her—or understanding, or something crazy. Lord knew he’d never ended up in Shadyside before when he’d had a beautiful woman sitting beside him in the car! No, Brittany was different. He gazed into her clear green eyes and tried to make things fall into place. But the feeling remained. He shook his head and answered slowly, “No, probably not in Windemere, Brittany.”
    “Where, then?” Her voice was low. She’d known him such a short time, yet the thought of him leaving was planting an inexplicable sadness in her. And it didn’t make an ounce of rational sense.
    He