Hotshot

  “We’re getting along,” Lucy insisted. “He’s just not being reasonable.”

  “When will security arrive?” Finn asked Christopher.

  “Meeting is at ten, and they’ll be on time.”

  “You personally know these guys?”

  Christopher nodded. “I’ve worked with them in Special Ops.”

  Lucy took a step closer to the bane of her existence. “Who are you?”

  “I’m the man who tells you what you can and cannot order, sweetheart, and twelve-thousand-dollar sofas are off the table. You’re not getting them. I’ve assured your uncle that all expenditures on improvements would be reasonable.”

  Peyton thought about Christopher’s statement and it suddenly clicked. Uncle Len had put him in charge so that she and Lucy and Ivy wouldn’t mess up. Len didn’t want them to fail, and Christopher was there to make sure they didn’t. It was odd, but she felt some of the burden lift away. Christopher obviously knew what he was doing.

  “All right, then,” she said.

  Lucy turned to her. “What do you mean, ‘All right, then’?”

  Peyton held up her hand. “We’ll talk about this later. You can vent then.”

  Lucy nodded. “I’ll bring the wine.” She picked up a folder on the counter and, straightening her shoulders, marched past Christopher. “I’ll be in the office if you need me.”

  Christopher didn’t look the least bit annoyed by her attitude. In fact, the slight curl of his lips as he watched Lucy walk away indicated the opposite.

  “You like giving her trouble, don’t you?” Peyton asked.

  “Yes, I do,” he admitted.

  Finn was right. He’d told Peyton that Christopher had the hots for Lucy. Peyton preferred to think he was interested in her sister because he enjoyed sparring with her. Her interpretation didn’t sound as animalistic. There wasn’t any doubt that sparks flew whenever the two were together, and everyone knew that sparks could ignite a flame. Maybe their arguments were simply a way for them to hide their true feelings. A relationship between two people who would be working together for a full year might not be a good idea. Then again, they were both adults. If Lucy wanted to be with Christopher, and Christopher wanted to be with her, it wasn’t any of Peyton’s business. Except, she didn’t want her sister to get hurt. She only hoped that Lucy knew how to protect her heart.

  Finn drew her attention. “Security’s here.”

  The front doors opened, and two extremely fit men walked inside. They were quite attractive in a rugged, outdoorsy way. Both had dark hair and deep tans. They were about Finn’s age, Peyton judged, and built like him, all muscle, but as far as sex appeal, Finn won, hands down.

  It was apparent from their greetings that they were good friends of Christopher’s. Laughing, they exchanged several colorful insults before crossing the lobby to meet Finn and her.

  The taller of the two stepped forward to shake her hand. “You can call me Drake.”

  The second man couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. “Braxton,” he said.

  They turned to Finn next. After they were introduced, Drake said, “Hey, I know you.”

  “Yeah, I do, too,” Braxton agreed.

  Peyton wanted to gloat. Finally, she could say, See? I told you people recognize you from the Olympics.

  “You brought in Hayes and got him to confess,” Drake said.

  “My partner, Agent Ronan Conrad, did most of the work,” Finn said. Uncomfortable with the praise, he added before they could say anything more, “Let’s go into the conference room, and I’ll run through Peyton’s situation.”

  Peyton showed the men through the offices into the conference room, and the guards listened closely as Finn explained what would be expected of them. She didn’t think it would take all that long to fill them in, but she was wrong. An hour passed, and they were still going strong with questions.

  “Agents Hutton and Lane are in Dalton. They’re running the investigation now, and they’ll keep you informed,” Finn told them.

  “They’ve got eyes on all the players?” Drake asked.

  Finn nodded. “This could be over soon. Last night Erik Swift let the agents take all the guns from his father’s house. They’re in the lab now.”

  Drake and Braxton were thorough. They insisted on going over every detail again before they were satisfied they could handle the case. When Finn offered to walk around the resort with them to give them the lay of the land, Peyton went to her desk. Since she was already in the office, she figured she might as well work on the designs for the new pool. If they were going to open the resort to the public soon, they had to get things done quickly.

  Finn and the two guards were just heading out the door when she heard Drake ask, “When do you want us to start?”

  “I’ve got her until tomorrow morning. Then she’s all yours,” Finn replied.

  What a lovely way to say good-bye, she thought.

  ______

  Peyton wasn’t much of a drinker, but by five that afternoon she thought she might like to guzzle a bottle of wine. Maybe two bottles. No time to rest, even on a Sunday. Christopher was an expert at cracking the whip. He had appeared shortly after noon with a stack of proposals from produce suppliers and asked her to look through them for the resort restaurants. She had just compared her last arugula price lists and had sorted everything into file folders when she noticed the time. Finn hadn’t returned yet.

  “I want to go for a swim in the ocean,” she announced to an empty office. As if on cue, a loud crack of thunder sounded. “Guess that’s out.” She got up from her desk and stretched. Lucy had gone into Christopher’s office for a meeting a few minutes earlier and closed the door. Probably didn’t want her to hear them yelling, Peyton thought. She decided to go back to her condo and wait for Finn there, so she headed to Christopher’s office to ask him to give Finn the message. She swung the door open and, too late, she realized she should have knocked before walking in. Lucy was wrapped in Christopher’s arms, and they were kissing each other quite passionately. Neither one of them noticed her.

  She quietly closed the door and was preparing to leave when Finn returned. “What’s funny?” he asked when he saw the big grin on her face.

  She was sure he would gloat if she told him, so she simply said, “Nothing. Nothing at all.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m tired. I’d like to go home now. Are Braxton and Drake still here?”

  “No,” he answered. “They’ve gone over the entire resort, and they know all the weak entry spots. They’ll take turns, but one of them will be with you after I leave. You’ll be okay.”

  Was he trying to convince her . . . or himself?

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Dinner was strained. Lucy had begged off eating with them, and Peyton thought she had probably gone out with Christopher. She could have used her sister’s help in easing the tension between Finn and her. He had suggested they maintain a platonic relationship, and she believed he was sincere about remaining friends. She wasn’t at all sincere when she agreed, but she didn’t want him to know it.

  When he left tomorrow, that was it. She never wanted to see him again. If he could walk away from her after all they had shared, then he didn’t deserve her. She deserved to be with someone who loved her, really loved her. Unconditionally. Someone who could never walk away.

  Was there such a thing as true love? She wanted to believe there was. Until Finn brought it up, she never really thought much about getting married. She just assumed that someday she would, and eventually she’d have children. Did that make her archaic, to want happily-ever-after with the man of her dreams?

  ______

  Early Monday morning Finn pulled her into his arms, hugged her, and said yet again, “You’ll be okay.”

  “Yes, I will,” she answered with conviction.

  “If you need me, you
call me,” he reminded.

  A quick kiss, and he was gone. As the door closed behind him, Peyton felt a catch in her heart, but she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on the hurt. She forced herself to think about the days ahead and what she wanted to accomplish. It wasn’t easy keeping her emotions under control, but she managed.

  Braxton was at her side throughout the day as she made the rounds to all the renovation projects on the resort. Everything was in full swing, and barring any unforeseen problems, they would be able to open the hotel and accept reservations within the next three weeks. Most of the former staff had been given a leave of absence and would be ready to return by then, and Peyton was beginning to receive applications to fill new positions. There were still large projects, such as the makeover of the bungalows and the new swimming pool, to complete, but they wouldn’t interfere with the operation of the rest of the resort.

  Peyton returned to the office in time to meet Dan Miller, who had arrived for his appointment with Christopher. The developer and contractor was the opposite in temperament and appearance from his competitor, Scott Cassady. Miller was in his mid-fifties, wore work clothes, and drove an old pickup truck that was weighed down by just about every tool known to man. He was calm and self-assured, and wasn’t out to impress anyone. Peyton really liked him. She felt the calluses on his palm and his fingers when she shook his hand. Cassady had been smooth and artificial, whereas Miller was blunt and to the point. He didn’t seem the sort to tell customers what they wanted to hear just to win them over. He appeared to be a straight shooter, and she was anxious to get his opinion on her plans. What would he have to say about tearing out two small, worn-out pools and building one gorgeous Olympic-size pool? Christopher hadn’t vetoed the idea and was willing to listen, so he went with her, Braxton, and Miller to look at the area and study the possibility.

  “What do you think, Mr. Miller?” Peyton asked as they stood overlooking the land she had marked for the pool. “Could it be done?”

  “I’m not formal,” he said. “Call me Dan, and, yes, of course it can be done. Why don’t I work the numbers and get an estimate to you.”

  Christopher took Dan on a tour to discuss other innovations he had in mind while she and Braxton returned to the hotel. Later that afternoon Christopher called Peyton and Lucy into his office.

  “You have to decide what you want this place to be,” he told them. “All the bungalows are located on the west side of the Cove, and, Lucy, didn’t you tell me you wanted to build more of them closer to the hotel?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “The hotel is on the east side,” he continued. “And Peyton wants to put in an Olympic-size pool close to it.”

  “Two of the smaller pools need major work, and I’d like to replace them with one big one,” Peyton explained. “With a fun water feature and the ocean right there in front of it, families will come. We could offer meal plans, make it inclusive,” she added enthusiastically. “And eventually I’d like to build another hotel, though no bigger than this one. I’ve looked at the space, and we could do it without changing the character of the resort. I think Uncle Len would approve. I want the Cove to remain charming.”

  Lucy didn’t agree with Peyton’s vision. “When they’re remodeled, the bungalows will draw customers who appreciate luxury and are willing to pay for it.”

  “Can’t we have both?” Peyton asked.

  A commotion coming from the outer office interrupted the discussion. Lucy and Peyton recognized the high-pitched screech. Debi had arrived. Since Braxton was the only other person out there, Peyton assumed he was getting the brunt of her anger.

  “Guess who’s here?” Peyton said dryly.

  “Wasn’t she supposed to start work this morning?” Lucy asked. “Peyton, why are you smiling?”

  “Because she isn’t our problem. Christopher is her boss.”

  Lucy smiled sweetly and, keeping her gaze on Christopher, said to Peyton, “Don’t worry. He’s used to working with difficult people.”

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Peyton said, “I’m going to go save Braxton from Satan’s little helper.”

  The second Debi spotted Peyton, she started in. Pointing at Braxton, she yelled, “This rude man won’t let me get past to go into Christopher’s office. I told him I work here, but he won’t budge. Who does he think he is?”

  “Shall we go?” Peyton asked Braxton as she walked past Debi without a response. She could hear her cousin sputtering with indignation as they exited the building, and she smiled with childish satisfaction. Braxton obviously approved. He winked at her.

  As Braxton escorted her home, he told her about the conversations he had been having with the agents in Dalton. “They’re reporting that everyone is calm, and all the people they’re watching are going about their normal routines. Erik Swift is cooperating with them fully and giving them daily updates. There had been some concern that Randolph Swift might be a hindrance, but after he heard the recording you gave Erik he realized how serious the situation is.”

  “So Randolph is going to take action?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “One of the agents said that Erik and his father went to an attorney in Minneapolis and changed Randolph’s trust. He said they sat there until it was done, signed it with witnesses, and filed it. Come Friday, Drew and his wife are in for a major surprise.”

  “Friday is the day Randolph was going to announce Drew’s promotion,” she said.

  “Evidently he’s so irate about Albertson’s behavior, he wants to fire him in front of the whole company. Randolph wants no misunderstanding that he’s out, and so is his wife.”

  “I wish I could be there,” she admitted.

  “I bet Finn would like to be there, too.”

  “About Finn,” she began, then hesitated while she thought about the right way to say what she wanted.

  “Yes?”

  “He’s a family friend, and I’ve asked a lot from him. He took time off his job to help, and I really appreciated it, but he’s back at work and I don’t want anyone to ask for his help again. He’s done enough,” she stressed. “And we’re set, aren’t we? If there’s trouble, you and Drake will handle it, and if anything should happen, I don’t want him notified. I’ve used up enough of his time.”

  Braxton didn’t seem to have a problem with her request. “Okay,” he said. Switching subjects he asked, “Are you in for the night, or do you want to go somewhere?”

  “I’m staying in.” She checked her phone to make sure she had his number programmed, Drake’s number, too. “Are you leaving for the night?”

  He smiled. “We’ll be around.”

  Peyton had done an adequate job of blocking thoughts of Finn during the day, but as soon as she got into bed, she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. Where was he? Still in Seattle? On his way to D.C.? What was he going to do there? Probably stop by the White House to pick up another award for doing something extraordinary, she imagined, and that thought made her smile. With Finn anything was possible.

  Or maybe he was reconnecting with Danielle, the woman who had ruined him. Closing her eyes in frustration, Peyton told herself she didn’t care. The man had walked away from her, and she would never forgive him for that.

  Sleep eluded her. Throwing off the covers she reached for her notebook and began to write down more lessons she had learned that would go into her cookies someday. Lessons such as: Never waste the expensive cheese in a frittata for a man who is just going to dump you—or—Never bring out your most seductive swimsuit for a man who is just going to dump you—or—Always lock the door before you shower so you won’t give in to temptation and have sex with a man who is just going to dump you. Okay, maybe her axioms were getting a little long and wordy, and maybe ending every one with “a man who is just going to dump you” was a little repetitive, but that didn’t make them any less true. She knew she wouldn’
t actually insert any of these proverbial warnings in her baking, but writing them down and getting them off her chest made her feel better.

  Whenever she thought about Finn, she bounced back and forth between overwhelming sadness and ridiculous anger. By the time she finally fell asleep, she was wrung out.

  ______

  The rest of the work week was a god-awful mess . . . all because of Debi. On Tuesday the technology-challenged cousin accidentally deleted more than sixty files from the computer, and it took Peyton until midnight to retrieve them all. Wednesday, after printing one hundred too many copies of a file—again, by accident, Debi insisted—she broke the main printer while trying to jam a paper tray into the wrong slot. Thursday morning, Lucy gave Debi a list of tradesmen to call and schedule to work. By nine o’clock, she had alienated every one of them. One tradesman threatened to sue for defamation of character after he talked to Debi. At ten, Christopher gave her a list of errands. Simple errands. She was to drop off a set of plans to a landscaper, pick up paint decks from Dan Miller’s office, pick up two packages from the Port James post office, and bring back lunch from a local diner. It should have taken her no more than two hours to get the errands done. Three hours tops. Debi left at ten in the morning and strolled back into the office at four in the afternoon. She was sipping a Big Gulp drink and didn’t have any packages with her; however, there were several noticeable changes in her appearance. She was wearing new purple nail polish. Peyton spotted it immediately because it was such a horribly neon-bright shade. Debi’s blond hair was much lighter and not quite as brassy, and it had been cut and styled. Her clothes were different, too. She’d left the office in black slacks and a fuchsia blouse and returned wearing a floral skirt and a tight purple tank top. Her matching sandals were also new.

  Aside from giving each other an oh-my-God-can-you-believe-it look, Lucy and Peyton didn’t say a word. They both wondered if Christopher would notice when he came back. He and Braxton had been outside discussing security for the resort for more than an hour.