All of Me

by Lori Wilde

  “So you’ll consider taking me on?”

  He paused again. “Your scenario sounds all well and good in theory.”

  “What are your reservations?”

  “Why do you want to set up a practice here?”

  “I inherited a lake house.”

  “A lake house that’s already been deeded to someone else.”

  Jillian blew out her breath. “Still haven’t seen a deed yet.”

  “It’s there.”

  “Then why not let me straighten out your office and find it?”

  “What? Put a fox in the hen house?”

  Jillian drew herself up straight. “I resent the implication. If the deed exists, I’ll honor it.”

  “The deed exists.”

  “Your word isn’t legal proof.”

  He cocked his head. “You want to work for me and yet you don’t trust me.”

  “Trust isn’t my strong suit,” she said, figuring her answer was going to end the interview, but to her surprise, he nodded.

  “I get that. You been kicked around a lot.”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she said instead, “I graduated top of my law school class. I’ve worked in the Harris County DA office ever since. I’ve—”

  He held up a palm. “I don’t doubt your credentials.”

  “No?”

  “It’s your motives I have issues with.”

  “Let me clear it up for you. I want a new start, in a new place, and even if the lake house isn’t mine, I intend on staying—”

  “Why?” Sutter interrupted.

  “Salvation is quiet and serene and—”

  “Exactly what are you running from?”

  Jillian hardened her chin against his question. Was he insinuating she was a coward? “I’m not running from anything.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m not.”

  “High-powered assistant DA chucks it all to move to the mountains. You’re running from something. What’s his name?”

  Damn! The old man was too good. “Who says it’s a him?”

  “Okay, then, what’s her name?”

  “It’s a him,” she admitted, not really knowing why she did. “His name is Alex Fredericks.”

  Sutter nodded. “I suspected as much.”

  Confused, Jillian blinked at him. “You know Alex?”

  “I know he took over Blake’s job. I also know Blake was worried about you after your affair with Fredericks went sour.”

  “Blake talked to you about me? Blake knew I had an affair with Alex?” The news completely ambushed her.

  “He did.”

  Jillian recovered quickly. “So you should know he wanted me to have the lake house.”

  Sutter shrugged. “Maybe he wanted Tuck to have it more.”

  “Then why didn’t he change his will?”

  “I don’t know. That’s one for you to puzzle out on your own.”

  “So, you’ll give me the job as your assistant, and when I pass the bar, you’ll consider making me your partner?”

  “You don’t have to push so hard.”

  “Then you’re considering it?”

  “You’re persistent,” he mused. “Determined. Not one to give up even when it’s clear you’ve made a huge mistake. I’m considering taking December tenth in the pool.”

  Jillian frowned. Just when she thought the old man was sharper than she thought, he said something completely off the wall. “Excuse me?”

  “The town has a pool,” he said.

  “For swimming?”

  He laughed. “For betting.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “We’re taking bets on how long it will take you to hightail it back to Houston.”

  “Seriously? They’re already taking bets on when I’ll leave town?”

  “Oops, that stubborn look in your eye means you’ll last at least a couple of weeks longer. I’m putting twenty dollars on December twenty-fourth. Holidays get to the best of ’em.”

  “Think again—Christmas means nothing to me.”

  “Smart, fiery. I like that.”

  She slammed a hand on the table, making the dominoes jump. “Then hire me.”

  Sutter just sat there grinning at her like she was the best entertainment he’d had in weeks. It irritated the hell out of her. “I’m not getting tired of this town.”

  “You ever spend the winter in the Rockies?”

  “No.”

  “I thought as much.”

  His smile took on a knowing quality that made her want to do something to rattle his smug certainty. “No, but I spent thirteen years being raised by a stepmother who treated me like her personal servant. I had a biological mother who abandoned me and a father who died when I was five. I put myself through college and law school, sometimes working three jobs to make ends meet. I’m not a spoiled, pampered rich kid, nor am I a weak-willed whiner. I’m tough and I’m strong, and when I make up my mind to do something, it gets done.”

  “Hmm,” he said mildly. “I guess I better take February first.”

  “Dammit, I’m staying. From now on, Salvation is my home, and I have a lake house to prove it.”

  “You don’t have the lake house yet.”

  “Then you prove that I don’t. Oh wait, you can’t because you can’t get upstairs to your office.” She was mad now and was past the point of caring if he gave her a job or not.

  His laughter infuriated her. She jumped from the chair, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door.

  “Wait,” Sutter called.

  With her pulse throbbing furiously in the hollow of her throat, Jillian turned. “Yes?”

  “I’ll tell you what, Miss Samuels. I can see you’re quite earnest, and I admire industriousness. I’ll pay you fifteen dollars an hour to get my office in order, and when you find Tuck’s deed, we’ll talk again about hiring you for real.”

  Chapter Nine

  With that one comment, Sutter had ensnared her in a catch-22. He would take her on as his protégé only if she found the deed that would spell her own downfall. With the deed, she’d have no lake house and no real reason to stay in Salvation. But without the deed, she’d have no entry into the town’s business community.

  She had a choice to make. Was she going to stay in Salvation no matter what happened with the lake house?

  Sutter sat, arms crossed, awaiting her decision.

  Either way, it wasn’t going to hurt to take the temporary job. It would give her something to do and bring in a little money. Besides, she had nowhere else to go. “I accept,” she said.

  “All right.” He motioned for his friends who were hanging around the door. “Carl, put me down for February first in the pool. This one’s a scrapper. She’ll outlast most.”

  Jillian couldn’t help smiling as she left the Bluebird and headed across the street to Sutter’s office in the Peabody Mansion. “You’re going to lose that bet, you old goat. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The flooring store and the CPA offices were open when she walked through the front door. Before Jillian got to the staircase, a diminutive, bespectacled woman about Jillian’s age, with light auburn hair and a nose dusted with freckles, popped up from behind the counter at the entrance to the flooring store.

  She waved a plump hand at Jillian. “Come here, come here.”

  The woman sounded so excited that Jillian trotted over.

  “Come around, come around, and kick your shoes off.”

  This was starting to feel a little weird, but she walked around the counter to see three different kinds of floor padding behind the counter. She noticed the woman was dressed in a bulky purple knit sweater with Holstein cows appliquéd on the front and a long denim skirt. She was also barefooted.

  “The shoes, the shoes.” The woman waved again.

  Obediently, Jillian kicked off her shoes.

  “Now, walk on all three samples and tell me which one feels the cushiest. I’ve been testing them out for so
long that I’ve lost all objectivity.”

  “Um, okay.” That’s not all you’ve lost.

  “Really get after it. March. Get the feel for how it’s going to hold up under traffic.”

  Jillian stomped the floor padding. “Like this?”

  “There you go.” The woman whistled and picked up one of Jillian’s stilettos. “Hey, are these Jimmy Choos?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Classy.” The woman eyed Jillian and handed her the shoe. “From head to toe, I might add.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re new in town.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I know everyone in Salvation, and it’s the wrong time of year for tourists.” The woman shoved her bangs back off her forehead and extended a hand. “Lexi Kilgore, and you are …”

  “Jillian Samuels.”

  “Nice ta meet ya, Jillian. So, what do you think?”

  “About what?”

  Lexi gazed at Jillian’s feet.

  Jillian glanced down. “Oh, the padding.”

  Lexi sank her hands on her hips. “Give it to me straight. Which is the softest? Number one, number two, or number three?”

  Jillian considered the question for a moment. “Number three.”

  “Ah.” Lexi raised a finger. “But is it too soft? Will it hold up to the demands of heavy foot traffic?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Of course not. How would you? You’re not in the flooring business.” Lexi looked at her. “Are you?”

  “No, no.”

  “Whew.” Lexi splayed a hand across her chest and blew out her breath. “That’s good, ’cause it’s hard enough making a living in town without more competition.”

  “You’re safe where I’m concerned. No interest in the field of flooring whatsoever.”

  “That’s why I had to branch out into window treatments,” Lexi went on. “Can’t be too specialized in a town this small.”

  “I can appreciate that.”

  Behind the frames of her glasses, Lexi’s eyes perked up. “So, Jillian, if you’re new in town, do you think you might be needing new flooring? Or window treatments, maybe? I just changed suppliers, and he’s got killer connections for Roman shades. Straight from Florence.”

  “I might be interested at that.”

  Lexi clapped. “Really? That’s great. Where are you living?”

  “I inherited a house on Enchantment Lane.”

  “Fantastic location. Which house?”

  “Number 1414. It was owned by—”

  “But that’s Tuck and Aimee’s place.” Lexi looked confused.

  “Tuck and Aimee,” she repeated, fully realizing for the first time that in everyone’s mind, Tuck was still linked with his late wife.

  “Oh yeah. You didn’t know?” Lexi touched her arm. “It’s so sad. Tuck’s wife died of cancer. She was only twenty-five, poor girl. Aimee was so sweet,” Lexi went on. “Everyone loved her. She and her mother and father came here every summer from the time Aimee was small. Then after her parents got divorced when Aimee was thirteen, they just stopped coming.”

  “Sad,” Jillian echoed, not knowing what else to say.

  “But that lake house has been in the Townsend family for three generations. It sat empty for years, until Aimee got sick and Tuck brought her here. She’d made him promise that one day, when they were ready to have kids, they’d leave New York City and come home to Salvation and renovate the lake house. But Aimee died before Tuck could do that.”

  Jillian’s chest tightened. “So tragic.”

  Tears misted Lexi’s eyes. “But tragic in a romantic way. Like Love Story or The Notebook. Tuck is such a great guy.” Lexi sighed. “He’s having trouble letting go, moving on.”

  “I imagine it is difficult.”

  “So how’d you get the house?”

  “Aimee’s dad, Blake, was my mentor. He recently passed away and left it to me.”

  “Blake’s dead?” Lexi wrung her hands. “I hadn’t heard. Oh, that’s such a shame. I imagine the fact he never reconciled with Aimee before she died took a toll on his health.”

  “I imagine.”

  “So what’s going to happen to Tuck? Where’s he gonna go?”

  “Doesn’t his sister live here?”

  “Yes, but she and Ridley are trying for a baby. Tuck would never impose on them.”

  “Tuck doesn’t have the money to buy his own place?”

  Lexi shook her head. “Aimee’s medical bills blew through his fortune. He took her to all kinds of specialists and alternative medicine doctors, looking for that last-ditch cure.”

  She considered telling Lexi about the missing deed and the erupting property dispute, but she decided against it. Word would get out soon enough.

  “So what do you do for a living, Jillian?” Lexi changed the subject.

  “I’m a lawyer. At least in Texas I am. I have to sit for the Colorado bar. Until then, I’m Sutter Godfrey’s new assistant. And speaking of which”—Jillian waved at the upstairs—“I better get to work. His office is a disaster zone.”

  Lexi nodded. “His last secretary was a real piece of work. Took advantage of the poor old guy. Embezzled from him. Nasty business.”

  “He said she got pregnant and left town.”

  “That too. I’m happy to see Sutter’s got a real professional helping him now.”

  “It’s been nice chatting with you, Lexi, but I better get to work.” Jillian made a motion for the door.

  “Wait, wait, let’s exchange cards.” Lexi plucked a business card from a gold-plated holder on the counter. “For when you’re ready to put new flooring in Aimee’s place.”

  Jillian exchanged cards with her and wandered out into the hallway, Lexi still following her and talking ninety miles an hour. The CPAs were standing in their doorway, eying Jillian with curiosity. They were twins. Two men in their late thirties, dressed alike in matching long-sleeve burgundy polo shirts and black Dockers.

  “Jillian, Bill and Will Chambers. Guys, this is Jillian Samuels. She’s a lawyer, and she inherited Tuck and Aimee’s place,” Lexi chattered.

  Seriously? Bill and Will?

  Suddenly, Lexi burst out laughing.

  “What?” Jillian asked.

  Lexi splayed a hand over her mouth. “Oops, sorry. I just had a thought. Now we’ve got Bill, Will, and Jill all working under the same roof.”

  “I never go by Jill,” she said.

  “But it gets better.” Lexi waved a hand. “Bill’s getting married this Christmas at Thunder Mountain Lodge, and his fiancée is … drum roll please … named Lil.”

  “Come on, Lexi, you know Lily doesn’t like to be called Lil,” Bill said.

  Lexi grinned impishly. “Maybe not, but it’s fun to say. Bill and Lil, Will and Jill. Hey, Jill, are you single? Will’s single.”

  “It’s Jillian,” she corrected.

  “Aimee was such a sweet girl,” Will said, quickly changing the subject. “Bright as sunshine.” The one she thought was Will shook his head, clearly ignoring Lexi’s sidebar into rhyming names. “So sad what happened. And poor Tuck, two years later and he’s still having trouble moving on.”

  “Everyone adored her.” Bill sighed. “Such a tragic loss.”

  Yes, yes, Aimee the saint. Immediately Jillian felt bad about her uncharitable thoughts. What in the hell was wrong with her?

  “So where are you from, Jillian?” Will asked.

  “Houston.”

  Bill’s gaze met Will’s. “I’ve got dibs on Halloween.”

  Will eyed Jillian. “She’ll last at least until Thanks-giving.”

  Jillian couldn’t believe this. “You guys are betting on me too?”

  “What bet?” Lexi asked.

  “It seems the whole town is betting on when I’ll leave, and I just got here yesterday.”

  “Ooh,” Lexi said. “I want in. Who’s running the pool?”

  “Not you too!”

  Lexi shr
ugged but didn’t look the slightest chagrined. “Hey, not much happens in Salvation. We have to take our excitement where we can find it.”

  Jillian had to laugh. What else was there to do? “I’ve got to get to work, guys.”

  “See ya later.” Lexi wriggled her fingers.

  “If you need a good accountant,” Will said, “please, keep us in mind.”

  “I will do that, thanks.”

  “And don’t forget your flooring needs,” Lexi sang out.

  “Never fear, when I’m ready to retile, you’re on my speed dial.” Finally Jillian escaped and climbed the stairs to the second floor.

  The old wooden staircase creaked underneath her feet. Once she reached the second floor, it was easy to locate the frosted glass door with sutter godfrey esquire stenciled on it in dramatic black script. She pulled his keys from her purse, but the door wasn’t locked. She turned the handle and stepped inside to find a plastic drop cloth covering the floor and a blue-jean-clad man on a ladder. All she could see was from the waist down. The rest of him was sticking up through a pretty big hole in the ceiling.

  His butt was at Jillian’s eye level.

  She’d seen that butt before. Jillian looked up at the same time Tuck looked down.

  “This is your new job?” she asked, at the same time Tuck said, “Sutter hired me to repair his roof and the water damage to his office.”

  “I’m working for him too. As his assistant.”

  Tuck stared at Jillian, unable to believe his crappy luck. He was going to be stuck with Jillian at home and at work? “Found a job on your first day in town. That’s a coup. Congratulations.”

  “How am I supposed to get anything done if you’re hammering and running saws?” She sank her hands on her hips.

  “How am I supposed to get anything done if you’re underfoot?” he groused.

  “This isn’t going to work.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “Sheetrock dust.”

  “Clacking, clacking on the keyboard,” he countered.

  “What have you got against me?”

  “Other than the fact that you’ve invaded my house?”

  “It’s not my fault. Besides, it’s my house.”

  “Just until the deed turns up.”

  “I’m beginning to think there is no deed. I called the Boulder courthouse and learned a deed hasn’t been filed in your name. I called Blake’s attorney, and he says Blake never mentioned a word to him about deeding you the lake house. In fact, Blake never mentioned you at all.” She sank her hands on her hips. “How do I know you and Sutter aren’t in cahoots, trying to bilk me out of my inheritance? Believe me, if that deed does turn up, I’m going over it with a fine-tooth comb.”