by Tara Randel
Unless the truth exposes you.
Stomach swirling now, she shook off the foreboding and picked up her pace. Controlling her downhill run, she hugged the side of the road as she drew closer to town. She’d taken this same route for over a year now, knew the pitfalls of the terrain. As she made it to the bottom of the hill, a pickup truck suddenly zoomed behind her. With her earbuds in place, she didn’t hear the loud engine until the truck was upon her. Jumping out of the way, she misjudged her stride and turned her ankle. She lurched to a halt, then tumbled into the soft grass.
“Watch where you’re going,” she yelled, but the truck careened around another corner and disappeared from view. Once the object of her anger vanished, her ankle began throbbing with a vengeance.
Yanking the buds from her ears, she muttered “Shoot” under her breath. After she brushed the grass and dirt from her black capri running tights, she viewed her ankle with concern. With her palms, she pushed herself upward to gingerly test if she could put weight on her right leg. She cringed as pain shot along her foot and up her calf. So much for continuing her run back to the apartment.
Resigned to hobbling, she reached the north end of Main Street, her momentum increasing as she limped down the street’s gradual incline. Few people and fewer cars were out and about at this hour, as only early risers were stopping at Sit a Spell for a morning shot of caffeine. Even from here the rich aromatic coffee scented the air.
She tried not to put much weight on her swelling ankle, but barely succeeded. By the time she reached Blue Ridge Cottage, she’d pulled out her key, ready to make her way through the narrow alley and up the wooden steps leading to her residence. She almost tumbled when a voice broke the morning silence.
“Are you okay?”
Looking out, she held back a groan. Logan crossed the street, concern etched on his handsome face, a steaming coffee cup in hand. This morning he wore a gray-and-white-striped dress shirt, charcoal slacks and black loafers.
“Depends on your definition of okay,” she answered as she leaned against the building.
His eyebrows formed a V when he frowned. “Really, what happened?”
“Truck. Me jumping out of the way.” She pointed down. “Turned ankle.”
He knelt down before her, his hand lightly grazing her skin as he examined the injured joint. An unwanted but undeniable shiver rushed over her. Good grief, he was only being a concerned citizen.
“I’m fine,” she told him, trying to shift away as his warm fingers palpated the bone.
“You should probably have it checked out,” he said, rising when he got the hint she didn’t want him in her personal space.
“It’s not bad. I’ve injured it before, so I can tell. A little bit of ice, ibuprofen and keeping my foot up should do the trick.”
He didn’t look convinced. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.” She’d been taking care of herself for a very long time. This minor setback was no different. “What’re you doing here so early?”
“Grandmother needed a report from me. Thought I’d beat the city traffic and drive up here early.”
Was that his only reason? His unwavering attention had her guard up big-time, which was a shame. If she was going to blow her life up over a guy, Logan would make it really easy.
“Why don’t I help you get home.”
She waved him off. “It’s right here.”
He looked up. “So, you’re living over the store?”
“Yes. The apartment was empty and your grandmother was kind enough to let me move in.”
“That’s Grandmother. Always looking out for others.” His gaze caught hers, full of meaning. “That’s why I look out for her.”
Warning received. “Then we can both agree, your grandmother is special.”
His intense expression softened and a smile played around his mouth. It lit up his entire face and almost put her at ease. Almost. It was his body language that had Serena deciding to call this conversation quits.
“So, I’m going to go upstairs to get ready for work.” She inched from her position. “Thanks for checking on me.”
One dark eyebrow rose. “No way I’m going to leave you alone. I’ll follow to make sure you’re okay.”
Her inner defenses reared. “Really, go do your thing.”
He stood his ground.
“Stubborn man,” she muttered under her breath as she resumed her wobbly journey to her apartment.
“Did you say something?”
“How thoughtful of you,” she said over her shoulder.
Her reply earned her a burst of laughter.
She straightened her shoulders and gripped the railing. After only two steps, Logan swooped in beside her, his strong arm wrapped around her waist. She shot him a cool stare despite the riot going on in her stomach. He smelled way too good and was way too close for her peace of mind.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I can’t watch you struggle. It’s too painful.”
Her voice rose as she said, “I’m the one who twisted my ankle.”
“And I’m the person who is going to make sure you don’t fall down the stairs.”
She held back an eye roll. “I’m capable.”
“No one said you weren’t.” His voice caressed her skin as his breath wafted over her cheek.
Torture. Beautiful torture. Why did she respond to this man the way she did?
He’d made her nervous enough when they’d sat side by side at the meeting at Smitty’s. But this? Was he intentionally encroaching on her space? Sure felt like it.
Instead of arguing, she picked up the pace to reach the landing so he’d leave her alone. She had to remember this was the man whose sweet charming grandmother had decided to pair them together. Yes, he was handsome and seemed to be a gentleman, but that was no reason to let down her defenses. After this episode, she’d keep her distance. Yes, that would do the trick. Distance.
They finally reached the door. Logan removed his arm and watched her fumble with the key. Could she look any clumsier?
Once she had the door open, she half turned. “Thanks again.”
“My pleasure.” He indicated the apartment with the hand holding the coffee cup. “If you need any help, I’ll be here all day.”
“I think you did more than enough. I’ll, ah, see you around?”
“Count on it.”
Then he was moving down the steps and around the side of the building.
“Why?” she quizzed the universe as she went inside, closing the door behind her. Leaning against the solid barrier, she let out a breath. Could she take much more of Logan hanging around Golden?
After taking a few steps, she tossed the key on the kitchen table. The apartment was a good size for her and, best of all, it was her own. It had taken six months to furnish and decorate to her liking, but as she viewed the homey space now, she realized it was worth it.
The kitchen was along the back wall. The dark wood counters, white cabinets and island had been refurbished before she moved in, creating a rustic charm she loved. The wood floors had been sanded and refinished and suited the open-concept style. Her cozy navy couch commanded the living area, and was scattered with pillows in various patterns and bright colors. An oversize armchair with a comfy blanket draped over the back matched the other details. Two wide windows framed by sheer panels overlooked Main Street. There were two bedrooms separated by a bathroom, which she now hobbled to. Glancing at a big clock on the wall, she hustled as fast as her weak ankle would allow. She needed to be downstairs to open the store in an hour.
Even after a brisk shower, Serena’s ankle continued to throb. She swallowed a pain reliever, slipped into flats, discovered her ankle was too swollen and switched to slippers that matched her pale blue sleeveless A-line dress. Not that slippers made a great fashio
n statement, but at least she’d be comfortable. She finished with her makeup and, after taking one last look in the mirror, deemed herself ready to take on the day.
Once downstairs, she flipped on the lights, scooped coffee into a filter and unlocked the front door to Blue Ridge Cottage. Open for business.
This morning she would be working by herself, which was fine. Friday mornings were usually busy when the tourist traffic picked up, but she’d be able to take care of housekeeping logistics and still wait on customers. By late morning she’d contacted the printer, sent off her designs and taken a special order. This was why she loved her store, why it was all hers and, if everything went according to plan, she’d be doing this for a long time to come.
Just before lunch the door opened. Mrs. Masterson strolled in, dressed in her signature two-piece suit, today in a rose shade. Not one hair was out of place and her lovely smile graced the room.
“Good,” Mrs. Masterson said, getting right to the point. “I was hoping to speak to you alone.”
“Should I be worried?”
“On the contrary. I’ve been going over your proposal and would like to invite you to dinner tonight. I have some questions and have asked my financial adviser to sit in. How does that work for you?”
Serena certainly wasn’t going to refuse. If Mrs. M. was interested, she’d go to the moon and back. “It would be my honor to come to dinner.”
“Excellent. I know you close at six, so I’ve asked Cook to have dinner ready by half past. That should give you time to drive to the house.”
She’d heard all about the large house and the beautiful grounds surrounding the mansion. Whenever Heidi went out there to visit Alveda, the Masterson’s cook, she gushed over the stately architecture and the history of the place. If it had been for any other reason than securing money, Serena would probably decline. It was one thing to visit with Mrs. M. when she stopped by the store, another to step foot on her family’s property. Serena’s embarrassment about her shameful past was never far from her mind.
Nerves started to quake in her stomach, but Serena pasted a confident smile on her face. “I’ll head over as soon as I lock up.”
Mrs. M. patted her hand. “And don’t let my son’s reputation scare you. I’ll keep him in check.”
Her son’s reputation? Serena swallowed hard. She hadn’t been scared until now. Nervous, yes, but not scared.
“See you this evening,” Mrs. M. said in a singsong voice as she swung open the door and then left.
A few minutes later, Heidi walked in.
“Thanks for letting me come in late this morning. I had a huge job to finish.”
“Sure. Anytime,” Serena answered, her mind on the upcoming meeting. She ran numbers through her head. Considered bringing samples of her work to show she had a handle on future products. Maybe a chart or two...?
“Earth to Serena.”
She blinked at her employee. “Sorry. I have good news.”
Heidi tilted her head.
“Mrs. M. is interested in talking about the proposal.”
“That’s huge.”
“I agree. It was a long shot asking her, but now it’s paid off.”
“When is the meeting?”
“Tonight. At Masterson House.”
Heidi’s smile slipped.
Serena’s nerves went haywire again. “What?”
“Nothing. She doesn’t ask just anyone to the house.”
“Oh, no. This is too much pressure.”
“Calm down.”
Serena moved from behind the sales counter and Heidi noticed her limp.
“What happened?”
“Near miss with a truck. No biggie. Now tell me about the Mastersons.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. They’re kind of...set in their ways. Give them the answers they want to hear and you’ll be fine.”
Serena frowned. “What if my answers aren’t what they want to hear?”
“You’re a saleswoman. Sell it, sister, and you’ll get that investment.”
The door opened and a group of women walked in. Heidi went over to assist them, leaving Serena to wonder what she’d gotten herself into.
* * *
LOGAN STEPPED INTO the foyer of the grand house, brushing his shoes on the mat before setting foot on the highly finished wood floors. Spending time in Golden meant family dinners, which he’d been able to avoid for quite a few years now. He hoped to learn more about Serena and soon, so this didn’t become a habit.
He poked his head into the formal living room to spy his grandmother seated on the sofa, reading from a navy folder. Serena’s proposal.
“Still going over the numbers?”
She glanced up, sending a smile his way. “Weighing my options.” She closed the folder and patted the cushion next to her. “I know we met for breakfast to go over your take on Serena’s business, but I feel like this is a very important decision.” She shook her head. “Maybe I’m making too big a deal of all this.”
Logan bent down to brush a kiss on his grandmother’s cheek then settled beside her. “Nothing wrong with rereading it until you feel it’s right. What does your gut say?”
“That Serena needs me. That she’d do well with the new funds she’d have.”
“There you go. You’re not wrong very often.”
“Perhaps.” She stared out the wide picture window, taking in the full view of the picturesque grounds. The grass was a deep green; the trees were full of foliage that showed just a hint of the fall colors to come. It was cooler today. The windows were open and a refreshing breeze flowed through the house.
Blinking, she turned back to him. “And what have you been up to today?”
“Stopped by Reid’s house.”
Her brow wrinkled. “I do worry about him.”
“He’s a big boy, Grandmother. Moving out on his own was a good thing. It’ll give him the time and space he needs to sort out his future.”
“Your father isn’t happy.”
“Because he isn’t getting his way.”
When his grandmother opened her mouth, probably to defend her son, Logan stopped her. “He and I might never see eye to eye, but he should realize that allowing Reid some distance will be good for everyone in the long run.”
“I suppose.” She sighed. “I never thought my grandsons would end up being so difficult.”
Logan placed a hand on his chest. “Why, Grandmother, I’m hurt.”
She batted his arm. “Hardly. You have so much armor protecting you, I doubt anything penetrates.”
Maybe, but it worked in his favor. Nothing and no one could dare hurt him if he kept his heart behind sturdy iron bars.
“I also had a meeting with a client.”
“Here in Golden?”
“Yes.”
“Word of your PI agency must be spreading.”
“I can only hope.” He leaned back to rest an arm along the back of the sofa. “Since you’d asked me to dinner, I worked at Smitty’s after my appointment instead of going to Atlanta and back.”
“Isn’t it noisy in that place?”
“I block it out.”
“That is one thing about you—you are focused.”
Footsteps approached from the hall. Logan glanced over to see his father enter the room. As always happened, he stiffened, but took soothing breaths to keep the man from breaking his composure.
“Logan. Good to see you.”
“Dad.”
His father glanced around. “Where’s Reid?”
Logan exchanged a glance with his grandmother. “Since this is a business dinner,” she explained, “I thought he could miss tonight.”
His father looked at his watch. “It’s six fifteen.”
Grandmother rose and walked over to pat her
son’s arm. “Patience,” she said just as the doorbell rang. She set off to answer it.
Alone with his father, Logan stood. His father shoved his hands in his pants pockets. The uneasiness in the room swelled. Female voices carried from the foyer, and when his grandmother entered the room, the sight of Serena by her side caught him off guard. Serena was the business dinner?
“Arthur, this is Serena Stanhope. Serena, my son, Arthur.”
Serena held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
His grandmother’s smile was cagey. “Logan, you’ve met Serena.”
He nodded in her direction, not missing the way her eyes widened with surprise. Apparently, his grandmother had neglected to inform her who would be at this meeting.
“Alveda is ready to serve dinner, so if you all don’t mind, let’s head to the dining room.”
Serena sent Logan another anxious glance, but his father engaged her in conversation as he led her to the other room. He noticed the slight limp, which probably explained the flat shoes and told him how she was doing after the morning’s mishap.
“Coming?” his grandmother asked, clearly amused.
Impressed by her duplicitous skills, he joined her. “Grandmother, you never fail to surprise.”
“It’s my prerogative as matriarch to keep my family on their toes. Besides, I’ve already told you you’re taking far too long to find a wife.”
He expelled a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say to get you off the marriage bandwagon?”
“How long have you known me?”
He chuckled in response.
Logan took a seat across the table from Serena. She nervously folded her fingers and rested her hands by the place setting. She was lovely, the contrast of the pale blue shade of her dress making her blueberry-colored eyes more striking, which further stoked his interest. That didn’t mean she was the woman for him, despite his grandmother’s hopes.
He met her gaze and asked, “How’s the ankle?”
“Much better, thank you.”
His father raised an eyebrow but Logan didn’t add any details.
