She grabbed her purse. “Let’s go.”
“Don’t you want to have dinner first?”
“I’ll make you a sandwich at home later. Come on. This is more important.”
Aidan paid the bar tab and hustled out the door. Casey was already halfway across the parking lot.
“Hey hold on,” he called. “Wait for me.” He jogged up to her side.
“I can’t help it. I’m in a hurry to talk to Aunt Belle and get this fixed. I hate liars and cheats. Someone who sneaks in like Bartow and takes things from others is scum.”
Aidan missed a step and caught himself before stumbling.
She glanced back. “You okay?”
“Fine,” he lied.
He had trouble getting his next breath like he’d taken a sharp chop to the gut.
Even if I pay Frank a fair price for his golf course and he’s better off, Casey won’t see it that way. I’ll be sneaking in and taking things from others.
He had to save Cypress Key from Bartow, but who would save Aidan from Casey once she found out who he really was. And the bigger question: was his new golf resort really worth the chance of losing her?
~ ~ ~
Aidan didn’t have to wait until he got home to get his sandwich. Belle made them both a sandwich when she found out they had skipped dinner to come and see her. Aidan wolfed his down, then filled Belle in on the slimy Bartow loans and his plan to cheat the residents.
“You said you had some help,” Belle prodded.
Aidan nodded. “An investigator friend of mine.”
“Is he any good?”
“The best.”
“I already tried that, you know. My investigator didn’t come up with squat.”
Casey put down her sandwich “Why would you hire an investigator, Aunt Belle?”
The older woman sighed. “Bartow’s been harassing me for over a year to sell my property. With each interaction, he gets a little more heated and a little more desperate. I wanted to know what he was up to.”
“How many interactions?” Aidan wanted to know. He hated prying—fearful the older woman might slip in front of Casey about selling her property to Aidan—but he liked Belle Crawford, and he was worried he had caused her trouble. She’d only mentioned the one time Bartow harassed her in the diner.
“Three times in the last month alone. But he doesn’t have a hold over me like he does our poor Cypress Key businessmen, so he just talks tough about how the property value is sinking and only he can afford it or has a need for a parcel that size.”
“That’s all?” Casey asked worriedly.
“I can’t prove anything, but three of my renters in town didn’t renew their leases. One left town and the other two moved to a different rental.”
“He’s putting the squeeze on you, the bastard!” Casey fumed.
Belle patted her hand and didn’t so much as glance in Aidan’s direction. “No worries, dear. I can afford it.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Casey asked, refusing to let go of her worry.
“I didn’t want to worry you or Frank.”
“Well, I’m worried now! What if he tries to force you to sell?” she swallowed. “Or hurt you?”
Belle made a tsk-tsk sound. “Archer Bartow is a bully, but he’s not the physical type.”
“His son is though,” Aidan added quietly.
“He’d have to be pretty desperate to try to hurt me,” Belle said. “I’m a fixture around here. An icon like that statue of Ponce de Leon in front of City Hall.”
“Until we sort this out, you ought to stay with a friend or have one stay here,” Aidan suggested.
“No!” Belle became indignant. “I won’t be forced from my home or drag someone from theirs to stay here.”
Aidan swore if Bartow approached her once more, he’d quietly hire a bodyguard to watch over Ms. Maybelle Crawford.
“You let me know if he approaches you again,” he told Belle.
“I promise. Now you leave the meeting to me. We’ll have it on Monday night at seven, in case anyone wants to back out of Bartow’s festival after they hear what you have to say, and I’ll have every businessman in Cypress Key there.” She patted Aidan’s shoulder. “You just get your speech and Rory’s proof ready.”
Chapter 18
Frank had been livid on Saturday night when Casey and Aidan arrived home from their “date” and filled him in on their evening—Rory’s second set of books, Aidan’s private investigator, and Belle’s Monday town meeting.
“You’re just telling me about this now?” he’d bellowed.
Casey had calmed him dramatically when she told him about Aidan and Louie standing up to PJ in the Steamers bar. Frank hadn’t known whether to cheer or explode when they told him about the purse for the two-man golf match event on Tuesday. If Aidan won, his mower would be paid for. If Aidan lost, Frank had to let PJ near his niece again. He complained long and loud about those odds.
“Aidan won’t lose,” Casey had proclaimed.
A new wrinkle unveiled at the course on Sunday afternoon, however, when Casey informed her uncle he could not caddy for Aidan in the match.
“And why the hell not?” Frank shouted, still not on board with the whole scheme of pitting Aidan against PJ.
“Because the gallery and everyone in town will suspect collusion,” Neal Riley said calmly.
Neal had brought Frank’s mower back after working on it until the wee hours of the morning, and he and Frank and Aidan and Casey were discussing the golf match on Tuesday while he made some last minute tweaks to the newly-restored engine.
“The people of Cypress Key trust me,” Frank blustered.
“But Bartow and PJ will force his loanees to think otherwise and will slander you to the rest of the town,” Casey reasoned. “I don’t want to give PJ an opening not to pay up when Aidan wins.”
Aidan couldn’t help grinning at her.
“What?” Casey, Frank, and Neal asked in unison.
Aidan shrugged. “She’s so absolutely certain I’ll win.”
“You are going to win, right?” Frank pressed.
“I’m going to try my best.”
Frank poked an accusatory finger at him. “You’re going to try whatever you have to to win.”
“See?” Casey cried. “My point exactly. The townsfolk may trust you, but they’ll expect you to try whatever you have to—including funny business—to win. You can’t caddy for Aidan.”
“I’ll do it,” Neal offered.
Frank rolled his eyes. “You don’t even know how to play golf.”
“I thought all a caddy had to do was carry the bag,” Neal objected.
Aidan barked out a laugh, and Frank glared.
“And don’t look at me,” Casey told Neal. “I can’t caddy for the same reason Uncle Frank shouldn’t.”
“A caddy has to be able to give his golfer advice on distances, wind direction, club selection, and slope of greens,” Frank painstakingly explained. “You know, reading putts and such.”
The maintenance shed suddenly grew a shade darker as a large body blocked the sunlight coming through the open side door.
“I hear ye got yourself into a golf match, Aidan, and dinna have a caddy,” a voice called from the doorway, as Ian MacVicar ambled into the large shed. “I’ve come to volunteer since I can beat your arse at golf.”
Aidan started to retort, but Ian held up a finger to slow him down before he gave anything away.
“I know you’re feeling a mite awkward having your boss offer to caddy for ye.” He emphasized the word boss ever so slightly to remind Aidan of the part he played. “But don’t. I dinna mind, since I had the misfortune of meeting your competition at the diner in town this morn
ing where I stopped for breakfast. PJ was his name, I believe. Do I have the right of it?”
Aidan nodded, not knowing whether to shove Ian out the door or thank him for showing up.
“That’s him,” Casey said. “PJ Bartow.”
She held out a hand with a big smile for Ian that Aidan didn’t think he liked. Ian gently shook her hand and grinned back.
Aidan growled. Enough.
Knowing he was irritating him, Ian grinned wider as he shook Frank’s and Neal’s hands in turn after Casey made the introductions all around.
“So you own the yacht part I fixed and the ship it belongs to,” Neal said.
“I do and I thank ye,” Ian told him.
Frank just eyed the big Highlander.
“Where’s—” Aidan caught himself before he said my. “—the yacht?”
Ian chuckled devilishly. “I decided to extend my vacation a wee bit and sailed back to my home port at Palm Beach.”
Aidan groaned inwardly. “And you went to visit with Rhett.” A statement not a question.
Ian’s blue eyes danced. “I did at that. I told him how surprised I was when you up and left me to stay here a while.”
“Great, just great.”
“Rhett insisted I should come back and check on my crewman, seeing as how we both know ye have a penchant for finding trouble. I had to talk him out of coming along when I flew up to Gainesville and rented a car.”
“I’ll just bet.”
“I noticed an airstrip on my way over to the course. I could have landed my plane here I suppose.” Ian watched him for an explosion.
“Your plane.” The damn Scot had absconded with Aidan’s Gulfstream.
“Aye, handy for getting around.” Ian had that damn grin again.
“No, you shouldn’t have landed here,” Neal said helpfully. “There’s no tech at the field or gas available. Only landing lights on command with the right code.”
“Good to know,” Ian replied, enjoying this whole scene immensely.
Aidan wanted to take a swing at Ian for getting Rhett all riled up, for stealing his jet, and for ogling Casey, but his friend had shown up in the nick of time.
“I better call Rhett and tell him, in case he changes his mind about coming, and his pilot tries to land here,” Ian taunted, his eyes gleeful.
“Is he—”
Neal cut Aidan off. “Is that the same Rhett that owes you favors and offered you loans?” Neal asked him.
Aidan sighed. “Yes, Neal. Same guy.”
Casey eyed him suspiciously, and he knew he was in for twenty questions later. “Seems like this Rhett is a really nice guy if he asked your boss here to come back and check on you so he wouldn’t worry.”
Ian chuckled.
“Yes,” Aidan agreed, “really nice.”
“So is he going to be your caddy or not?” Frank wanted to know.
“Sure, and I’ll be his caddy,” Ian said.
The big Highlander’s grin was too much, and Aidan rolled his eyes.
“Then let’s go through the course,” Frank said and walked Ian and Aidan to the cart barn.
With one last wary glance at Aidan, Casey walked Neal to his truck and headed to the pro shop.
Frank grabbed his personal clubs stored in a locked utility closet in the cart barn. “We’ll play with these. They’re better than our rental clubs, and you don’t have any,” he told Aidan.
The big Scot eyed the clubs and whistled softly. “These are beauties.”
Frank smiled for the first time. “I played a short while on the PGA tour.”
“Did you now? Impressive.”
Frank looked down at Aidan’s sneakers. “You a size ten?” he asked Aidan.
“Yeah.”
Frank reached back into the closet and pulled out a pair of well-worn golf shoes, handed them over. “These will fit. They’re ten and a half.”
Aidan chuckled to himself and thought of his half-dozen pairs of five-hundred-dollar golf shoes back in Palm Beach. He smiled back at Casey’s uncle. Frank’s golf shoes would work just fine.
“Let’s take these beauties out on the course,” Ian told Frank. “See what our competitor can do.”
The two men hopped in a cart leaving Aidan to follow. He rolled his eyes since no one could see. That Scot could schmooze the Queen of England.
The two carts drove out to the first tee box. “I’ve seen you hit some wingers out on the driving range in the mornings,” Frank admitted. “Let’s see what you got.”
“Casey said you caught me hitting out there.”
“I see everything around here.”
“I have a question before we get started, Frank,” Ian said. “Is this PJ arse any good? To hear him talk, he is.”
“I’d like to know what you think myself,” Aidan added. Casey had said the jerk was good, but Frank had played pro golf.
“I gave the little smart mouth lessons as a kid,” Frank groused. “I should have taught him some manners instead. He’s a scratch golfer.”
“Ouch,” Ian said and eyed Aidan. “You’ll be needing your A game, lad.”
Aidan nodded, swung the driver a bit to loosen up, then hit his first drive.
This time Frank whistled softly.
Ian chuckled. “Never bet with Aidan at golf.”
The two carts made their way through the front nine with Frank going over the nuances of each hole with Ian, while Aidan quietly played his practice round, loving the feel of this golf course. Casey had designed perfect placement and slope of all the sand traps and greens, he thought proudly.
On the eleventh green, while Frank tinkered with an irrigation valve, Aidan pulled Ian aside. “Did Rhett really send you?”
“Nah, but he is worried ye’re in over your head here. Why don’t ye give it up?”
“No, I owe Rhett from back in college.”
“Try again. He says you paid all debts when you helped save his relationship with Lily.”
“Okay, it’s more than that.”
“I’m listening.”
“Rhett has always been the best—made more money, built more resorts—just like he used to beat me at golf and lacrosse. I want to prove to him I’m as good as he is. Childish I know, but there it is.”
“Men have been competing for centuries, Aidan. Look at my ancestors. That’s all they did. But I think Rhett already knows ye’re as good as he is.”
“Knowing it and proving it by giving him a huge return on his investment with me are two different things. This is dream number two: Rhett and I building a resort together. I lost out on dream number one.”
“Dream one being the PGA.”
“Yeah.”
“What did happen with your family that stopped you? I know that was your goal back in college.”
Aidan would only admit this to three people in the world. Ian was one of them. He hadn’t confided everything to Frank the other night.
“My father said if I went on the tour I could kiss my inheritance goodbye.”
Ian frowned. “But you could have—”
“And he would chuck the real estate division in his company that he’d created and held for me until I graduated,” Aidan went on as though Ian hadn’t said anything. “My father would lay off the hundreds of folks nationwide in that division. People who have families depending on them.”
Ian cursed softly.
“You ladies done gossiping and ready to move on?” Frank called and climbed in to his cart.
By the fifteenth hole, Frank had gone to full glower. “What’s your story?” he barked at Aidan. “You really could have played on the tour. You could easily have found sponsors.”
“I just didn’t.”
�
�Bullcrap!” Frank shouted. “You could have made it.”
“Family!” Aidan shot back. “I quit because of family. You should know about that.”
His comeback shut Frank up. Not another word about Aidan’s ability, only pointers about the course or his stance or swing. Aidan felt like a first-class jerk.
On the seventeenth green, he took Frank aside. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
The pain in Frank’s eyes was visible. “Fault’s mine, son. I shouldn’t have pried or pushed.”
“No, I—”
Frank just put up a hand and strode back to his cart.
Several hours later, Aidan and Casey were having dinner at the Sand Dollar Tavern. Aidan figured he owed her since they’d left the Steamers bar before dinner the night prior. Unfortunately, Casey invited Ian to join them since he was alone in town. Tonight had not turned out to be a date, what with Ian flirting with Casey and her flirting right back.
When Ian took her hand in his after dessert to thank her for inviting him, Aidan had had enough. He reached across the table and plucked her hand from Ian’s grasp.
“No touching,” he ordered and glared when both Ian and Casey laughed.
“It’s not funny,” he grumbled at Ian. “Bad enough you’re over there trying to charm her socks off. You keep your hands to yourself.”
“But I’m not wearing any socks,” Casey managed before she started laughing all over again.
Ian grabbed the check when the waitress brought it, and Casey excused herself to go visit the ladies’ room.
After paying the tab, Ian joined Aidan outside the crowded tavern to wait for Casey. He started to chuckle again.
“Enough!” Aidan fussed.
“I never thought I’d see Aidan Cross head over heels for a lass.”
“I don’t know what I am, but until I do, you just keep your distance,” Aidan told him.
Ian put two palms up and tried to sober his humor.
“If Rhett didn’t call you, who did? Why did you suddenly show up?”
PAR FOR CINDERELLA Page 24
