He’d never declared his love for anyone before. He’d thought she felt the same way. To know that it was completely one-sided was crushing. He knew the nightmare had something to do with her assertion, but that didn’t lessen the pain of knowing she didn’t love him. His whole life, people had flocked to him for what he could do for them. Women wanted to be with the successful baseball star, not because of what was inside him. They were drawn to his looks, his fame, his money. It’d been the same when he started hosting Home Run Homes. Hillary was the first person who’d seen past all of that to the man inside. She got him. He knew she did. It’d felt good, damn good, to have someone want to be with him for who he was, not what he was.
When three o’clock rolled around and he still hadn’t slept a wink, he got up, donned his workout gear and took Kota out for a long run. He’d rehabbed his surgically-repaired knee to the point that running was no longer painful. He usually hit the gym six days a week but he’d slacked off with the broken arm. He couldn’t lift weights or do pull-ups, so once he returned, he dropped to the deck and cranked out five hundred sit-ups. The burn in his muscles felt good. Hillary was standing in the kitchen when he finished and went inside.
“Reed—”
He held up a hand and padded to the bathroom to shower. He didn’t want her pity, a sure exercise-buzz kill. He knew they’d have to talk soon, but he was too raw right now. He didn’t want to say something he’d regret later.
Hillary was on her cell when he came out. She’d cooked breakfast and it waited for him on the table. No way could he eat a pile of eggs on a stomach that felt like it’d been shredded. He grabbed a protein bar and headed to the house, ignoring her calling after him. Immature? Sure. With a healthy dose of self-preservation thrown into the mix.
“These are my latest hires,” Tony said, dragging him from his thoughts. “Sal Hobart, Ralph Fuller and Frank Morrow. They’ll be part of the inside crew.” Sal and Ralph were both around six feet and muscular and covered in ink, like most of Tony’s crew…and Reed’s. Frank was shorter but stocky, and though he wore a tank top, his massive arms were decorated in ink-covered sleeves.
Reed introduced his team and their areas of expertise. He indicated Neil would be the go-to guy for any questions or concerns. He turned to Hillary and motioned her forward. “And this is Hillary Billings and her dog, Kota. She’s in charge of security. Whatever she says, goes. No exceptions.”
Hillary’s eyes widened in surprise. What? She didn’t think he could be professional? He’d be the most professional damn professional she’d ever met if it killed him. Her eyes were red and swollen and damn if that didn’t make his heart ache. He wanted to gather her in his arms and kiss away her pain. If she’d been crying, that had to mean she felt something for him, didn’t it? Hope sprouted.
“You don’t want to be messing with her,” Donnie told Tony’s people. “Trust me.”
Reed’s men laughed and made fun of Donnie for going down hard last night.
Reed scratched Kota’s head. “Though he looks mild-mannered, Kota is a trained warrior, so don’t try anything stupid.”
Once Hillary returned to her spot against the wall, he explained about the hours of operation. “We agreed to a noise ordinance with the town and we will be respectful of that, again, no exceptions. No drills or saws before seven in the morning and make sure you aren’t in the middle of something major when seven pm rolls around.”
Then he went over his designs for the house. He’d set up an easel to hold his drawings, showing them his plans for reconstruction. “We’re basically gutting the place. We’ll be tearing down walls, ripping up the floors. We’ll be changing the layout and improving flow. The plans include reinforcements against hurricane winds and we’ll go green as much as possible. It will be new inside and out.”
#
Hillary leaned against a wall and watched as the house hummed with personnel, her stomach one huge knot. She hadn’t slept at all last night. She knew her eyes were red and puffy from crying. So many times, she’d had to stop herself from going after Reed. It was only the thought of that bullet fired from the masked man’s gun hitting him in the chest that stopped her.
Turning him away was so much harder than she thought it would be. She didn’t only love him, she liked him. He was honest and smart and kind and funny. He was the perfect man. And she’d rejected him.
She’d been shocked when he called her over to introduce her to the local construction crew. His smile, albeit forced, had soothed her aching heart. She expected the worst when he wouldn’t speak to her this morning. She should’ve known he’d be a professional in front of the crew.
Did he plan on staying at the cottage now that she’d rejected him? She wouldn’t blame him if he decided to move to the production house. But, God, how she’d miss him. It would be like half of her was gone.
She’d called Kayla in the early hours of the morning, when she was feeling weak and raw. Her roommate had commiserated with her, but not before chastising her for being an idiot. “What if I’m not able to devote my concentration to the job because of our relationship?”
“Do you love him?” Kayla asked.
“Yes,” she’d answered without hesitation, even though it wasn’t fair to tell her roommate before she told him.
“Then don’t let him go.”
She’d lain in bed after hanging up, thinking about what Kayla said. She’d wanted to talk it over with Reed so she got up to find him but he’d left the house with Kota. When he came back, he dropped to the deck and ripped off hundreds of sit-ups. The Abs of Steele were getting a workout. She’d waited for him to come in but he’d brushed past her, not wanting to talk. Fine. She’d give him time. She’d made breakfast and then Kayla had called, wanting to know how she was feeling. She’d been talking to her roommate when Reed emerged from his room, ignored her breakfast and grabbed a protein bar before leaving the house. She’d been so frustrated, she wanted to throw her phone at his retreating back. But it was her fault, so she’d gathered the plates, scraped the food into the waste bin and loaded the plates in the dishwasher. Kota whimpered, looking from her to the door. He knew something was up. She tried to reassure him but he was too perceptive. By the time she made her way to the house, several of the crew were already on site, taking away any further opportunity to talk.
A huge camera rolled by, and lights were being set up in different parts of the house. People from the network were positioning monitors and talking about things like lighting and angles. Phones were ringing and people were hustling around, checking last-minute details. It was fascinating to watch the production from behind the scenes. When the show aired, it would be polished and professional, with stylized graphics and catchy music. Right now, it looked like controlled chaos.
Connie would spend most of the time in the large rig parked along the road leading to the house. It was where all the technical operations for filming would take place. She’d introduced her two assistants to Hillary, who would help with the details.
When Reed finished with his presentation, Tony Tindale approached her. “Ms. Billings, I forgot to call and let you know I had to hire three additional workers. Two of my men were injured in an automobile accident.”
“I’m sorry. Are they okay?”
“One’s touch and go. The driver. The other’s in bad shape but expected to recover. They won’t be able to work for a while, so I had to hire replacements. They’re a couple of my hardest workers, so I figured I should add one more to handle their workload.”
“I understand. I’ll need to run them through a background check, so I need their names and information.”
“Sure thing.” Tony stepped closer and whispered, “This was a last-minute thing and I’ve been trying to get everything ready. I haven’t had a chance to do the checks myself. I’d appreciate you letting me know if you find anything.”
“I will.”
Tony called the three men over and introduced them to Hillary. She shook the
hands of Sal Hobart, Ralph Fuller and Frank Morrow, ignoring their scrutiny. She was used to people underestimating her. It only made her work harder.
“Ms. Billings will be conducting a background check on each of you, so if you have a problem with that, you can leave now.” When the three men stayed, he nodded. “Give her your contact information.”
“Hey, Doll, if you wanted my number, you could’ve just asked,” Ralph Fuller winked, flashing a gold tooth. Hillary ignored him and entered the information into her iPad. Then she padded away to run their names.
#
Rocky couldn’t take his eyes off the hot blond who assessed the crew with a cool look. A real ice queen, that one. He bet she’d melt in bed, scratch like a hellcat. He wasn’t positive, but he thought she might be the chick who alerted Reed Steele to his presence the night he’d bashed him in the head with a shovel. She’d been too far away and he didn’t get a good look at her face at the time. And she was obviously the one who caught him when he broke into the house the second time. He eyed her pooch, smiling to himself. If it wasn’t Cujo, the dumb mutt he’d outwitted.
Then Tony called him over and requested his contact information. He had to pull the paper from his wallet where he’d written the social security number, praying Einstein hadn’t screwed him over. He’d taken on a skinhead from the Aryan Nation for Einstein, so the guy owed him. He promised the check would hold up to any scrutiny.
He snuck another glance at the woman. Damn, she was a looker. Legs that went on for miles, the perfect length to wrap around his hips. Toned body. Muscular but still girly. Average boob size. She was no Dolly Parton, but enough to fill his hands. She turned and walked away. Not much junk in the trunk like he preferred, but not a deal breaker. Her ass was firm. He glanced down, startled to find Cujo glaring daggers at him. The dog’s brown eyes were unblinking, pinning Rocky with a warning stare. Damn, that was spooky. He shivered.
Ever since his childhood, he’d hated dogs, even worse than Granny’s fourteen million cats. If the mutt got in his way, he’d suffer the consequences, and Rocky wouldn’t feel an ounce of remorse.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Reed adjusted his earpiece and straightened his shirt. He wore a green polo with the name of his show stitched on the pocket and blue jeans, his standard outfit for shooting. The early afternoon sun was overhead as they set up to film the intro and promos for the show. He glanced at Hillary, sitting under a white tent with Kota and Connie watching the monitors. Damn, she was so pretty, he had to concentrate on what he was going to say. He never scripted his intros. He was better winging it.
He was still angry with her for rejecting him…well, not so much angry as hurt. But he was a big boy, so he’d just have to deal. He’d get through the next few weeks, finish the house and then he’d head back to California, leaving a part of his heart with her.
Two cameras were pointed at him, with microphones positioned to capture his voice. Large white reflection screens had been placed for better lighting. A monitor had been arranged on a tarp on the sand for him to see what was being filmed.
“Good to go,” Connie said in his ear.
He nodded to Tim Harner and the red light on Camera One blinked on. “Hello, everyone. I’m Reed Steele and this is Home Run Homes.” He widened his arms. “Welcome to our kick-off-to-the summer renovation special. In honor of the new season, we’re here on the Outer Banks located off the coast of North Carolina.” He glanced at the ocean and then back at the camera with a smile. “Sand, surf, sun, what more could you ask for?”
Camera Two snapped on. “For this special, we’ll be tackling our biggest project to date. We’re gutting a run-down beach house.” This is where pictures of the old house would flash on the screen, showing the house in its before-state of dishabille. He gave details on the origins of the house. “Look at this view.” He opened his hands. “When we finish, this will be a showpiece.”
The red light on Camera One blinked on and Reed smoothly switched his attention. It was a dance he’d learned to master. “You might’ve noticed that I had a little accident.” He lifted his arm, indicating his cast. They decided not to mention the break-ins on air. “It’s slowing me down, but it’s not stopping me. I’ve got an excellent team to help me turn this dilapidated disaster into a seaside retreat.”
Back to Camera Two. “As you can see, work has begun on the outside of the house.” The camera would pan to a shot of the house surrounded in scaffolding, the old shake shingles partially removed. “Weather is a major issue for homes located near the ocean. Wind and rain can come from all directions, so that poses a problem for siding and trim.” He took the board Hanna, one of Connie’s assistants, handed him and held it up. “We’ve selected a fiber cement siding, which is durable for the beach weather. It looks like wood but wears like concrete. It doesn’t require maintenance or repainting, so it survives the harshest elements Mother Nature can throw at it, making it a perfect choice.”
Back to Camera One. “We’ll be expanding the deck to include an outdoor kitchen with countertops made of soapstone, which is durable and weather resistant, though it must be sanded and oiled to prevent staining. An outdoor shower will be added to the side of the house for a quick clean-up after a day at the beach.”
Camera Two. “Now let’s take a look at the inside.” Before pictures would flash on the screen, followed by his drawings of the reno and then finally the finished rooms once they were done. Sound bites would be added in post-production.
“Cut,” Connie called out. “That was great, Reed. Let’s run through the intro one more time.”
He gave the spiel again trying to repeat the same verbiage he’d spouted earlier. It usually took several takes to get the footage needed to piece the segment together. Connie wanted everything perfect for this one since it was a heavily-promoted special. He added details about the date the house was constructed and some background on the Outer Banks.
“That’s a wrap,” she called out. Hanna handed him a bottle of water and he took a drink, his eyes automatically finding Hillary. She was watching him. He ignored the thrill and turned away. One of the production staff came over with notes and Reed scanned them as they moved inside to finish the intro.
The crews had left for the day to rest up before work started tomorrow. Boxes of materials and supplies had been stacked in one corner, along with tools and equipment. Two cameras followed him as he explained the work to be done on the inside.
He stood in the kitchen speaking into one camera as the other panned the outdated space. “We’re gutting everything in here. Cabinets, floors, appliances. And we’re getting rid of this.” He indicated the wall separating the kitchen from the great room. “Right now, it’s blocking the amazing views and closing off the space. By tearing it down, we’ll improve flow as well as sightlines. It’ll feel much larger in here, too.”
He moved to the great room. “The floors will be ripped up and replaced, the walls painted. The fireplace will get a fresh update. When we’re finished, the room will be open to a wall of windows overlooking the surf.” He took the cameras through the rest of the house, including the bedroom on the bottom floor and a bathroom slated for an overhaul. He indicated the space where a new mud room and laundry would lead to the side exit from the house. Upstairs, the open space would be split into a master retreat and two additional bedrooms in the back area previously used for storage.
When he was done, he stood in front of a camera. “We’re renovating this house for my former teammate, Josh Hannigan, and he has a surprise up his sleeve.” Josh had purchased the house as a gift for his folks when he signed his huge contract extension. Reed had done the same thing for his parents when he signed his first major league contract, buying a vacation house on the beach in Malibu so they could attend his games. “We’ve got a big job ahead of us and it’s time to get started.” He mocked swinging a bat and repeated his signature catch-phrase, “Batter up.”
#
Hillary couldn’
t take her eyes off Reed. He was tall and muscular. He could give any of her coworkers a run for their money. She’d seen him on television, but it was different watching him in person. His presence was commanding, compelling. He was a natural in front of the camera, describing the work to be done without a script. Connie told her that he was always like that…winging it perfectly. With a mixture of humor and knowledge, he brought his vision to life. He wasn’t like some of the network hosts who were loud and in-your-face and over-the-top obnoxious. Hillary couldn’t stand to watch those shows. Reed’s personality drew people to him, made them want to listen to what he had to say. Women loved him and men wanted to be like him.
He’d glance her way every so often and she hated the distance in his eyes. Before, when he looked at her, it was with a mixture of warmth and caring and yes, love. Now his gaze was wary. She’d hurt him. It was something she never wanted to do.
She was such an idiot. Her phone buzzed again. Probably another text from Kayla telling her the same thing. She glanced at the screen, smiling when she saw Kai’s face. He sent a picture to Reed and copied her. He was posed in his baseball uniform, holding the glove Reed had signed. Beside him was his stepsister, Gracie, her red ringlets fastened into pigtails, dressed in her pink t-ball uniform, holding her signed glove as well. Hillary smiled. Reed would love it.
Sunlight poured into the room from the windows, reflecting off something shiny on the floor. Hillary pushed off the wall and bent down to pick it up. It was a necklace. The charm was the letter P that looked like it’d been fashioned from a copper penny. She ran down the names of the work crew in her head but couldn’t remember anyone with a name starting with a P. She glanced at Connie’s assistants, Hanna and Michelle. They were busy watching the taping. Several people had been in and out all day delivering supplies and materials. Maybe one of them dropped it. She slid it into her pocket. She’d ask around when the cameras quit rolling.
Tough as Nails (COBRA Securities Book 10) Page 17
