Tangled: Contemporary Romance Trilogy

by Dee Bridgnorth

  The two of us hit the ground with a thud. I actually felt her head bounce off the concrete floor. I didn’t know what time it was. But I knew that I was mad as hell because it was going to take me the rest of the night to put this place to rights after her tirade.

  “Stay. Down!” I growled at Trinity.

  I let my entire body weight rest on the busty little blonde. She squeaked something and gasped. I didn’t care. At this point I would not even care if I strangled her or made her pass out. The woman was a demon in high-heeled boots and she needed to be stopped whatever the cost.

  “Okay, Mr. Alvarez,” Poole said, gasping for air as he lumbered onto the scene with his cuffs dangling from one hand. “We’ve got this now. You can get up.”

  “Not until you get a hand on her,” I told Poole. “She’s destroying my business! Do you know how much this is going to cost?”

  “You can always press charges.”

  “Oh, believe me,” I snapped. “I will be!”

  Trinity was just laughing. Laughing and laughing and sounding like a crazy woman. I didn’t know what her problem was, but I was pretty sure that it needed medication. I cursed my idiot brother for deciding to date the woman in the first place. I cursed myself for trying to be a nice guy and keep a professional attitude where she was concerned.

  Finally, Poole squeezed his way into place on Trinity’s legs. I rolled off of the woman and onto the cement floor where I lay for just a second. My knee had smacked the ground during my wild tackle and I could feel it starting to swell. Just great. How perfect would that be if I suddenly wound up injured because of this whole mess?

  The back door swung open and I heard scrambling footsteps came dashing into the garage. Poole was occupied putting cuffs on the squirming, fighting Trinity. But Officer Punch swung around and wildly waved his gun in the air.

  “Freeze! Freeze right there!” Punch shouted.

  The disgusting wave of scent making my eyes water told me all I needed to know about this new intruder. I was flat on my back in the middle of the walkway near my tool storage area. “It’s just my after-hours guy, Beau,” I shouted.

  “How do you know?” Punch called back. “Sir, stop right there! Hands up where I can see them.”

  “Oh God!” I moaned. “Don’t tell him to lift his hands!”

  A wave of stench wafted its way down the walkway and I heard both officers inhale sharply. Beau was creeping closer with his hands up. “Did you get the ghost, Boss?”

  “Yeah, Beau,” I grunted. Ghosts and vampires, my ass. Try blood-sucking crazy bitch. “We got your ghostly vampire.”

  The officers pulled Trinity to her feet. She made a face at Beau. “Oh, looky here! It’s chicken little. Has the sky fallen in yet? Don’t let the ghosts get you, Beau!”

  Poole and Punch were already dragging Trinity back toward the door. I knew I’d have to go down to the station and fill out a report. I would probably have to file charges and then get a case number for my insurance company too. This was going to be a mess. Talk about a nightmare of paperwork. And it was only just beginning.

  “You okay, Boss?” Beau asked. His voice was full of hesitation and maybe even a little bit of fear as though he were dreading my reaction. “You look beat.”

  “I am,” I told him.

  But truthfully the only thing on my mind was that I wanted to share everything that had happened with Tansy. I wanted to hear her confirm for me that this whole thing was absolutely nuts. I wanted to speculate with her about what had actually happened and why Trinity would think that she could hurt Damion by hurting me. I just wanted to talk to her and hold her hand and feel her beside me so that I would not feel so alone in whatever insanity was happening all around me.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Tansy

  I forced myself to smile. Sunday. I should have had this whole contract thing wrapped up with the Musgraves. They had already decided what house they wanted to put an offer on. But now we were doing that horrible thing that buyers do when they really want a house, but they don’t want to admit it or play fair when it came to making offers on it.

  “Well, why can’t we offer twenty thousand under asking?” Mr. Musgrave wanted to know. His thinning brown hair was mussed from repeatedly running his fingers through the mess.

  I glanced at the clock. Trinity and Karl Kitson were supposed to be here at any moment to go house hunting. I wondered what was keeping them. I needed to get this thing with the Musgraves wrapped up. But how did you explain to someone who was apparently cheap that someone else would not appreciate being insulted by an offer?

  “Here’s the thing,” I told Mr. and Mrs. Musgrave. “You can offer whatever you want. But as your agent, I will warn you that the house is priced at the low end of its value. The seller actually had it appraised just six months ago. It’s only been on the market for a month. It’s in a great little neighborhood and the house itself is in terrific shape. They’ve got lots of upgrades and they have done a good job keeping up with the updates. So if you want to offer twenty under asking that’s your choice, but I would almost guarantee that they won’t respond to the offer.”

  “What?” Musgrave looked absolutely floored. “Why wouldn’t they respond? They have to respond.”

  I considered this while I glanced at the clock for the millionth time. We had literally been at this for an hour. They had been putting these bizarre requests into their offer. Plus they didn’t want to pay any closing costs. It was strange, but when I had been taking them around to see houses that first day I’d had no inkling that they would be like this.

  “Let’s just say,” I began slowly, “that no answer is a response.”

  “Oh, Bob, please let’s just offer asking price?” June Musgrave touched her husband’s hand. “Please? I really want this house. I don’t mind paying a fair price for it.”

  “We didn’t get a fair price for ours!” Bob grumbled.

  I had to hide a smile. That was a big gripe with people. But then Bob wasn’t selling this house. Was he? He’d sold a different one and now he wanted to purchase this one because it was better. Can I possibly say duh a little louder?

  “All right, fine.” Bob sounded grouchy, but his wife was beaming. “Go ahead and write the offer for asking, but not a penny more.”

  “I’ll do it right now,” I told him.

  I heard the sound of the front bell jangling and wondered if the Kitsons had finally arrived. My heart sped up and my gut knotted in anticipation. I did not want to deal with them this morning, but it wasn’t like I had much of a choice. I couldn’t just tell them I didn’t want to work with them. It would be the height of unprofessionalism. Not only that, but it would run the risk of pissing off a crazy person who would then take their disgruntled feelings to the max when they trashed me and my reputation in the real estate business all over St. Louis.

  “You folks head on home and start packing,” I told them. “Because you’re moving. I’ll email this offer and we are going to find a way to come to terms with all of this.”

  “I sure hope you’re right.” Bob grabbed his wife’s hand and the two of them stood up.

  I followed them out toward the front doors of the office. Sure enough. Karl Kitson was standing in the front office area staring at a bunch of listing flyers posted on the office wall. He looked calm and relaxed, but he was also alone. What was up with that? Did I have to worry about Trinity sneaking around the office trying to snoop her way through people’s stuff? I didn’t trust that woman any farther than I could throw her. And Karl was even worse. And considering how short I am, I was pretty sure I couldn’t have thrown those two very far.

  “Thank you for everything, Tansy,” June Musgrave called over her shoulder. “I’ll call you later today!”

  “All right, June.” I had to force myself to smile. I just loved it when clients felt the need to call every ten minutes because they were certain I wasn’t going to actually call them when something happened. You know, because why wo
uld I be excited about the sale too?

  The door closed behind Bob and June. The weak sunlight bathed the parking lot in what should have been the heat of the noonday sun but instead was a reminder that we were probably going to have a hellish winter. Karl Kitson turned and offered me a rather pleasant smile. Backlit by the outside light, he might have looked like some kind of blond god of the tennis court. But since I knew he was more like a devil, that wasn’t working for me at all.

  In fact, I could not help but contrast Karl with Val Alvarez. Karl was plastic. Val was all steel-corded muscle and bone covered in the silky dark skin that gave me a thrill just to touch. Val was broad and bold and more masculine than a man like Karl could ever manage to become. Of course, that was probably because Karl would try to buy his way into masculinity instead of working his way there.

  “Good morning, Mr. Kitson,” I told him in what I hoped was a pleasant voice. A voice that did not convey to him that I would never ever forget some of the crap he had tried to pull in this very office over the years with his bad stalking behavior and near obsession with Lena Schulte. “Where is Trinity this morning?”

  “Oh, she had a little brush with the police last night, so she’s in jail until our attorney can get a judge to set bail.”

  I blinked. W-what? I wasn’t sure what was more startling. What he had said or how he had said it. Trinity was in jail? Whatever for? And Karl was just nonchalantly standing here discussing it as though it happened all the time? He obviously lived a much different life than I did.

  I cleared my throat and searched for something to say. “Wow, Mr. Kitson. I’m so sorry to hear that. Would you like to reschedule? I perfectly understand the need to do that. After all, it would be difficult to choose a house for your bride if she’s not here to help you decide which one might suit you both.”

  “Oh, there’s no need to wait.” Karl waved his phone in the air. I could not decide what that meant. Fortunately—or unfortunately—he readily enlightened me. “I’ll just take a few pictures of the important things.”

  “Closets and bathrooms and kitchens and the like?” I guessed. I suppose that was probably reasonable. We all have things about a house that are deal breakers.

  “No. Actually it’s the Google map locations,” Karl informed me. “She’s looking for something close enough to walk to Lionsgate.”

  “Walk to Lionsgate,” I said weakly. Oh God. Why would she want to walk? And did I really want to know? I cleared my throat. “Karl, I can’t honestly let the two of you purchase a home in any of the surrounding subdivisions. It would be totally unethical for me to do such a thing considering the restraining orders.”

  “But those expire,” he said quickly.

  I bit my lip. There was no way in hell that Lena and Damion were going to let that occur, and Damion had the money to push those things all the way to the top. I didn’t know what one might call a restraining order that had been sanctioned by the Supreme Court of the United States, but I felt like it was possible for Damion Alvarez to make this the first time it happened.

  But maybe that was neither here nor there. Right? I could find them a really nice house somewhere far, far away from the place where they might cause trouble. I could find them a house deep in the Laclede’s Landing area. That could work. I could find a cute little house there close to all the downtown night life. There were even casinos down there near the banks of the Mississippi. They’d love casinos. Right?

  “So I have a few things to show you this morning if you’d like to drive your car and follow me,” I told Karl. “Just let me get my bag and my keys and we can go ahead and take a little drive to check out some properties that were on your list.”

  “I figured you would just ride with me.” Karl gave me a toothy grin.

  O-kay? I swallowed. “I usually just drive myself,” I said quickly with what I hoped was a sunny smile. “That way you don’t have to come back here to the office. The last place that we will be looking at is quite a distance from here.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried about that.” Karl stared at his watch. “I probably have to go back down to Fenton in order to stop by the jail and pick up Trinity when she’s released.”

  Fenton? I felt as though someone had squashed all of the air from my lungs. That was where Val’s shop was. Fenton. That’s where Mr. and Mrs. Alvarez lived. I didn’t even want to imagine why Trinity had been arrested in Fenton.

  I swallowed. “All right then. I’ll just get my things.”

  It only took a moment to grab the messenger bag where I stored all of my contracts and other useful tools for going out to look at properties with my clients. I had to keep telling myself that this was the right thing to do. It didn’t feel right. It felt—well, it felt off.

  As I walked back toward the front of the Upscale Realty office, I heard voices. Angry voices. And as I turned the final corner I recognized one of them as belonging to Valentino Alvarez. He sounded mad as hell. I could not begin to imagine why he was so angry, but I had a feeling that I was about to find out.

  I walked into the reception room and saw Val wagging his finger in Karl’s face. Karl looked absolutely bored. Val was sputtering. “What do you mean Tansy Economides is helping you house hunt? Are you out of your mind? Why would she do such a thing when you’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass to me, my brother, his fiancée, and pretty much anyone and everyone else associated with my family? Why would she help you find a freaking house? And gee, can I ask where your wife is this morning? Or wait!” Val’s voice was starting to rise until he was nearly shouting in Karl’s face. “Could she be a little tied up in jail this morning after spending last night and pretty much every damn night for the last few weeks breaking into my shop and causing havoc?”

  Breaking into his shop? I was absolutely dumbfounded. Why would Trinity Moberly-Kitson break into the Alvarez Engine and Transmission Shop? That didn’t even make any sense! I marched my way into the middle of the confrontation between Karl Kitson and Val Alvarez and put up my hand to stop Val from saying anything else.

  “I don’t know what’s going on here,” I told them both. “But Karl is a client here at Upscale Realty, Mr. Alvarez. So I have to ask you to please calm down.”

  Oh, that did not go over well. Dammit. It wasn’t like I was saying that Val was wrong. I just didn’t want him to get into an argument right here in the reception room. There just wasn’t a point. But the storm cloud building on Val’s face told me that I had just thrown in with his enemies. I felt like this was not going to end well. Not right now anyway. Especially not with Karl Kitson standing there gloating like the world’s biggest douchebag.

  “Mr. Kitson, could you please wait out front for me?” I told him in what I hoped was a polite and unruffled tone of voice despite the fact that I felt like I was about to start squawking like a chicken.

  “Of course. Whatever.” Karl offered a careless shrug and pushed his way out the front door of the office. “Please don’t be long though. I’ll need to get down to the Fenton Police Department to pick up my wife as soon as she’s released.”

  “She’s not getting released, you ass!” Val snarled.

  I barely managed to catch Val against my shoulder as he lunged at Karl. I felt the strength of this man in the way he nearly bowled me over. But Karl wasn’t helping. The smug expression on his face was enough to make a saint swear. It was almost like he wanted Val to attack him. But then, maybe that was part of this whole thing. Why would they be going after Val though? It didn’t make sense. Did it? What was the angle here? What was I missing?”

  “You can’t be serious!” Val burst out as soon as the door clicked shut behind Karl. “Tell me you aren’t actually helping that jackass hunt for a damned house!”

  “I am.” I tried to stay calm. Calm was good. Right? It would hopefully keep Val from losing what was left of his temper. “If I don’t do it, then some poor agent who has no idea about the four restraining orders is going to let them put an offer on that house f
or sale in Lionsgate.”

  Val opened his mouth and then snapped it shut with an audible click. He seemed to be at war with himself about what to say. I could not blame him. Then he shook his head. “You blew me off yesterday by text. You never called. You never came by. And now I find out that you’re house hunting with a client whose idiot wife has been breaking and entering into my shop for the last few weeks to make trouble for me and my family? What am I supposed to say about that, Tansy?”

  I frowned. I hadn’t known about all of that. That’s what I had to say. But I wasn’t sure that Val was going to care about that right now. He seemed really upset. So I stuck with the facts. “Val, I didn’t know about those things. I’m a professional. If someone wants to look at a house, I’m going to show it to them.”

  “So it’s all about the money,” Val spat.

  I felt a stab of hurt as I realized what he was suggesting. “No. It isn’t like that at all!”

  “Well, that’s what it seems like.” Val shook his head, snarled something unintelligible beneath his breath, and then he stomped off through the front door back toward his truck.

  I watched Karl Kitson watch Val and could not help but think that we were all missing something really critical about this whole situation. There was something else going on here and when we finally figured it out, it was going to bite us all in the ass.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tansy

  House hunting can either be one of the most interesting and fun experiences a real estate agent experiences in their day-to-day job related activities, or it can be disturbing on a really profound level. By the time I finished with Karl Kitson and he dropped me off back at my office, I was almost glad that we’d had to cut our day short. Well. Except for the pesky fact that we had cut our day short because Trinity was being released from jail on some kind of bond that I didn’t know the details of. That kind of sucked.