Cold Nose, Warm Heart

by Mara Wells

  “I’d expect nothing less, Caleb.” Grandpa William nodded curtly. “You’ve always been good with numbers.”

  A compliment? From his grandfather? Caleb and Lance exchanged equally shocked looks.

  “Thanks.” Caleb swished the beer in the bottle, ignoring the fact that his phone vibrated in his pocket. “The thing is, the Dorothy’s numbers don’t add up. I’m afraid it’s not only that Rainy Day missed the forty-year inspection. They’ve been hosing you, Grandpa.”

  Grandpa William sat up straight, clunking his glass heavily on the arm of the deck chair. “What do you mean?”

  “Fraud. They’ve been skimming money. If I’m right, it’s been years.”

  Grandpa William used his cane to push to a standing position. “One measly heart event, and the vultures close in to take everything they can.” He thumped his way to the railing, pausing with the rock of the boat to catch his balance.

  “It goes back longer than that. Possibly decades. I need to do a deep dive, but I wanted to get your permission first. If it’s as bad as I suspect, we’re going to have to press charges. And given we’re involved, it’ll be in the media.”

  “Great.” Lance stormed to the cooler for another beer. “Just what my business needs. More corrupt Donovan publicity.”

  Caleb crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s why I wanted us to talk this out together. Technically, we’re the victims in this scenario, but that’s not how the media is likely to play it. They loved watching our father get put away. They’ll use any reason to bring all that up again.”

  Grandpa William stared out to where ocean met sky, that long stretch of flat horizon always inexplicably out of reach. “If what you suspect is true, what do you need from me?”

  “Access to all the financials.” Caleb stood close to his grandfather, worried about the slump to his shoulders, the gray cast to his skin. “I’ve already put in a call to the insurance company. Rainy Day is reporting yearly fees at almost double what we’re being charged. I need all the records for as far back as I can get to see what else they’re padding. Once I have my case, we’ll go to the authorities.”

  Grandpa William clenched the railing in one hand, his other hand still firm on his cane. “I can’t believe I let this happen. I should’ve known better than to trust a management company, but I didn’t want to get too close to Gloria’s building. She needed her space.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Caleb wanted to put his arm around his grandfather’s shoulders but wasn’t sure how that would go over with the old man. His phone vibrated again, but now was not the time to check messages. Instead he said, “The good news is that if they’ve stolen as much as I think they have, reparations will more than pay for the renovations the Dorothy needs.”

  Lance popped the top of his can and took a long swig. “I don’t know. She’s going to need a lot.”

  “Precisely.” Caleb leaned against the railing and took a pull from his own drink. “I am talking a lot of money. Enough money that we wouldn’t have to evict the current residents. We could offer them the option to buy in or keep renting like they are now, and we’d still have enough money to fix up the empty units for rent or sale. It’s a win-win.”

  Grandpa William slashed his cane through the air, silver handle flashing in the sunlight. “I don’t like it. The plan was for you three boys to work together to overhaul this property, make it truly profitable, enough that you could buy another property and then another. Rebuild the business together. Now your only plan is a facelift. That’s not how you build a dynasty.”

  This time, Caleb did put an arm around his grandpa’s shoulders. “That’s another reason I brought you out here today. Lance, do you want to go into business with me?”

  Lance snorted. “Hell no.”

  “See, Grandpa, Lance isn’t interested. And Knox won’t even return my calls. But I wanted you to see that I can do this on my own. I found the problem at Rainy Day, and I’ll get it fixed. With that money, I can move forward on the renovations.”

  “No, it’s you three boys together or no deal. I told you the terms up front, Caleb. They don’t change just because they’re difficult to fulfill.” Grandpa William stomped toward the prow, shaking off Caleb’s arm.

  A pelican swooped close, nearly touching the deck, before diving into the ocean and emerging with a fat fish in its beak. It tossed the fish into the air, and in a single gulp, the fish slid headfirst down its gullet.

  Lance crossed his arms over his chest, feet planted against the roll of the deck. “Why is it important to you? The three of us working together?”

  It was quiet so long it seemed Grandpa William wouldn’t answer, but finally, he let out a long sigh. “When I started Donovan Real Estate Group, it was with my brother, Eddy. You would’ve liked him. Everyone did. He was a real charmer.”

  Caleb was confused. He’d never heard of an Eddy Donovan. From the blank look on Lance’s face, he was equally surprised.

  “He died. Lung cancer, real young. We didn’t know about smoking back in those days, you know? And he was a couple-packs-a-day kind of guy. Real life of the party. After he was gone, the business wasn’t as fun anymore. I got tunnel vision, only cared about profits. That’s how I raised your father and look where it got him.”

  Caleb’s throat tightened. He’d never considered that his grandfather might feel guilty for what happened to Robert. Never really thought about Grandpa William feeling anything but embarrassment for how it all went down. There was a sheen in Grandpa William’s eyes that spoke to the truth.

  “You boys have to work together, don’t you see? Put family first and everything will be okay. You won’t turn out like Robert. Or me. Because you’ll have each other.” Grandpa William wiped at the shine in his eye with a knuckle. His cane clattered to the deck.

  Caleb picked it up and handed it back to his grandfather. “I didn’t know about Eddy. I’m sorry.”

  Lance joined them, clamping a strong hand on Grandpa William’s back. “Me too. That’s a real sad story.”

  Grandpa William turned hopeful eyes to Lance. “You’ll do it? Go into business with Caleb?”

  Lance’s nostrils flared. “Now, I didn’t say anything about that. The past is the past, Grandpa William, and we have to move on. I’ve got my own business. Caleb has a sound plan for this property of yours, and Knox is off saving the world. You have to let us lead our own lives.”

  Grandpa William’s knuckles turned white from the tight grip on his cane. “My terms are my terms. If you three don’t work together, I’ll sell the Dorothy to the highest bidder, and that is my final offer.”

  Caleb’s phone vibrated again, and Grandpa William poked his cane angrily in Caleb’s direction. “Answer the damn phone, Caleb. What is the emergency anyway?”

  Caleb palmed his phone, scrolling through a thread of text messages. “It’s Riley. I’m in some kind of group text about the dog park grand opening. They got a vegan dog treat baker to sign on, and everyone’s very excited.”

  “Vegan dogs.” Grandpa William chuckled. “This thing is going to be a disaster.”

  Caleb scanned the congratulatory texts and the many, many dog photos that were part of the thread. He smiled. “It’s going to be amazing. Grandpa William, tell me you’ll come. Let me show you why my plan will work in this community. Give me a chance.”

  “I’ll be there.” Lance swigged the last of his beer, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “I miss my dog something terrible. Divorce sucks.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Grandpa William raised the last of his Scotch in a toast.

  “You’ll be there?” Caleb refilled Grandpa William’s glass and tossed Lance another Silver Bullet.

  Grandpa William eyed him over the rim. “I suppose.”

  Lance clicked his can to Caleb’s bottle. “Cheers to that. Good luck, little brother. You’re going
to need it.”

  * * *

  Caleb followed the sound of excited chatter to Grams’ place. When he knocked, a frazzled Sydney opened the door and waved him in. “Come on, come on. We need more hands on deck.”

  Grams’ furniture had been moved aside, leaving a wide swath of burgundy carpet as a work space. Grams sat on the sofa, her plump cat contentedly curled up on her lap, overseeing the proceedings. Although Eliza, Sydney, and some other women whose names Caleb didn’t know but who he’d never seen without a pug between them were present, no dogs crowded the living room. He thought that it was a shame that the dogs couldn’t be part of preparing for their own party. Maybe it’s better this way, he mused, more of a surprise for them.

  Riley sat cross-legged on the floor, finger-painting a large sign for, well, finger painting. When she spotted him across the room, her face lit with a welcoming smile. He checked the other occupants of the room. Nope, no one else was blinded by the sight. Just him. He held out a hand, and she hopped up to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

  “It’s about time. You don’t want to miss the painting!” She pulled him down to sit next to her and pushed some finger paints his way while introducing him to Kiki and Paula. Kiki kept busy with paint markers and stencils, and Paula counted out raffle tickets in sets of ten.

  Caleb had overseen the grand opening of the Tucson resort, the casino in the Virgin Islands, even a small reopening of a property in Orlando, and he’d never been asked to finger-paint a single thing. When was the last time he’d dipped a finger in a jar of paint? Kindergarten? First grade?

  “Your signature pink is smearing.” He traced the dot of pale pink on Riley’s cheek as it streaked back toward her gleaming hair.

  “I’ll show you some signature.” She scooped a blob of deep blue and dabbed it on his forehead. “Still not as blue as your eyes, but definitely your color.” She leaned up and kissed the tip of his nose. “We’ve got work to do. Booth signs don’t paint themselves.”

  “Show me what to do. I’m in.”

  They fell into a pattern. She outlined words in big bubble letters, and he methodically painted them in. He tried to stay focused on the work, but Riley’s constant up and down to fetch glasses of lemonade for Eliza or a water bottle for Sydney made it impossible to stay on task. The women laughed and, if he wasn’t mistaken, were also texting each other while talking. It was a whirlwind, so when the door opened and Mr. Cardoza walked in, he let out a relieved sigh.

  “I come to help!” Mr. Cardoza brandished a large tray of tiny coffees and a box of empanadas. He circled the room like a waiter, talking to each person for a moment before moving on. When he got to Caleb he said, “Eh, Mr. Donovan, our Riley’s brought you to the right side of this fight, I see.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a fight.” Caleb took a sip of coffee and almost groaned with pleasure.

  “What else could it be?” Grams nibbled at an empanada, flakes of crust sticking to her bottom lip. “It’s a fight for our home. For our way of life.”

  Nothing was definite. Caleb had a lot more work to do to prove his theory about Rainy Day, and even more work to compel them to pay the money back. Looking at the faces around him, though, he hated the thought they tolerated him only because of Riley. They still saw him as the enemy. Maybe that had been true at first, but looking at their paint-streaked faces, sipping Mr. Cardoza’s amazing coffee, he just wanted it to be over. Face it, Donovan. You want them to like you.

  So, against his better judgment, he told them about his meeting with his grandfather on the boat.

  “I can’t believe Lance won’t help you out. That boy needs a talking-to.” Grams sniffed and empanada crumbs trembled, then fell to her lap where the Prince quickly lapped them up.

  “That’s what you can’t believe?” Riley capped a jar of paint too aggressively. “Rainy Day’s been stealing from us!”

  “Allegedly. Possibly.” Caleb held up his hands. “We can’t go around accusing them until we have more facts.”

  “But you’re sure.” Riley searched his face.

  He nodded.

  “Then you’re our hero, aren’t you? I can’t believe I never thought to question the reports they sent me. I feel stupid.”

  “How could you have known?” Caleb soothed a hand down her back. “They’re good at covering their tracks. I wouldn’t be surprised if an investigation reveals ours is not the only building involved. I’ve seen the financials on lots of projects, and the Dorothy had the numbers of a much larger property. It didn’t add up.”

  “I should’ve suspected.” Riley leaned in to his side, and he liked the way she fit just so against his shoulder. “But if I didn’t, I’m glad you did.”

  “Well.” Eliza stood and wiped her hands down the sides of her ankle-length skirt. “I suppose I need to amend the lawsuit to name Rainy Day rather than the Donovans.”

  Caleb inclined his head toward her. “That would be much appreciated.”

  “I suppose there’s nothing to it. You and I will have to work together to nail those bastards.” Eliza held out her hand to shake.

  Caleb had thought he’d be using his grandfather’s legal team, and maybe at some point in the process he would. For now, though, working with Eliza was the best business proposition he’d heard in a long time. He shook her hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  Mr. Cardoza collected empty coffee cups from Kiki and Paula. “Can the next meeting be at my apartment? All this excitement is good for the soul, I think. I can cook a nice dinner.”

  Sydney whipped out a massive planner, and before he knew it, Caleb was committed to dinner with Mr. Cardoza, a brunch at Eliza’s, and drinks at Sydney’s, all in service of the grand opening preparation, but watching as Riley dutifully updated her calendar and Grams looked over the group with undisguised pride, Caleb suspected that the project was secondary. These people really liked each other, and because of Riley, he was now one of them.

  Chapter 28

  Riley moaned at the sound of her alarm, so chipper and darn optimistic in the morning, and fumbled on the side table to hit Snooze. All she managed to do was knock her phone onto the floor, where the alarm continued to buzz its cheerful crickets-on-the-hillside greeting. She was about to swing her feet over, plant them on the floor, and do her grown-up adulting thing, when an arm snaked around her waist and pulled her into the heat of Caleb’s body.

  Oh yeah. That. Suddenly, the cricket alarm seemed further away. She wiggled into her favorite spooning position and let out a deep sigh. “That’s nice. You’re nice.”

  “I’m trying.” His hand swept up her stomach and cupped her breast. Caleb hadn’t spent every night of the past few weeks here, but enough that she suspected what was coming next and knew she had to hush the alarm or it would seriously spoil her chance to enjoy being the sole focus of Caleb’s attention.

  “Give me a sec.” She tried jackknifing her body and hanging her shoulders over the bed. Caleb didn’t seem to mind the extra pressure of her butt to his groin. In fact, he pushed back, helping her forward those crucial few inches so she could reach her phone. “Got it.”

  Thankfully, the crickets hushed. She flipped to face him, cupping his face in her hands, holding them nose to nose.

  And nose. LouLou hopped onto the bed and pushed her snout under Riley’s wrists, bumping for attention.

  “’Morning, LouLou.” Caleb patted the dog. “You need to go out?”

  “I’ll do it.” Riley liked Caleb staying over, liked it a lot, but she wasn’t ready to share dog-care duties yet. She wouldn’t want LouLou to come to rely on him and then one day, poof, he disappears and LouLou never knows what happened or why. Yeah, it was LouLou Riley worried about feeling abandoned. She didn’t have abandonment issues of her own, not at all. And they certainly weren’t aimed at her ex, or dad or mom. No, they weren’t. She dropped her feet to the floor, and
the dog dashed out of the room.

  LouLou seemed to know it was a special day. Before Riley even had the chance to hit Start on the Keurig, the poodle had her nose pressed to the front door, her tail thumping wildly against her back. At the sound of the coffee maker initiating its duties, LouLou whined and pawed at the weather stripping at the bottom of the door.

  “LouLou, no!” Riley hated replacing the weather stripping, but unfortunately, life with this particular poodle meant it was a biannual chore. “Do you need to go out?”

  Riley walked toward the back door to let LouLou out onto the patio, but the poodle wasn’t having it. She amped up her whining, pawing more frantically at the door.

  The doorbell rang.

  Riley checked the clock over the stove. Who on Earth would come by this early in the morning? Maybe Sydney was swinging by with a dog park opening outfit, some kind of athleisure perhaps, with a matching outfit for LouLou. Riley chuckled at the mental image and opened the door without looking through the peephole.

  “Sorry for barging in this early.” It was Sydney, garment bag in one hand, drink carrier in the other. “I’m really excited about today! I wanted to get an early start and figured you’d want to be the first to see the changes anyway. I can’t wait for the temporary fences to come down so we can finally see everything. Did I mention I’m excited? Because I am!”

  “Me, too, especially if one of those is for me.” Riley swept the door open.

  “Of course!” Sydney handed over a cup. “Mocha latte with coconut milk. That’s how you know we’re friends. I know your Starbucks order.”

  Riley would’ve laughed, but she was too busy sucking down caffeine. “Where’s Chewy?”

  “Right here!” Sydney spun around, showing Chewy dangling from a baby-type backpack, his itty-bitty legs sticking out in all directions. She knelt down to let him out, and soon he and LouLou were out on the patio having a good sniff. He even used her two-by-two box of grass to pee in, which meant she had to pee in it, too. Then he peed on top of that pee, and that kind of one-upmanship could go on all day, so Riley led Sydney to the couch.