Melting Point

by Pierce, Nicolette

  “Where is Liam?” she asked.

  “He’s out on a sales call with Orton. I told them to head over to Ritchu’s after.”

  “Why Ritchu’s? You know we’ve tried several times to get their business. They’re a lost cause.”

  “I have a feeling they might not be as lost with Liam as they were with Orton. Either way, what’s the harm in trying again?” Walter stood. Before he left he said, “Liam was curious about our Las Vegas client. You might want to give him a briefing before you both leave tomorrow.”

  “I’ll do that,” Morgan said, sipping her smoothie.

  It seemed Liam wasn’t going to rest until he had every single piece of information. If he wasn’t going to leave it alone, she’d have to create a fake client file to throw him off the scent. Remy would do nicely as a decoy.

  Morgan navigated to the client files on her desktop and filled in a new client portfolio that included false work history and invoice payment status.

  Cash. Paid in full.

  If Liam ever tried to contact Remy, he wouldn’t get much information. Even on a good day Remy was a closed book. He didn’t trust very many people, which worked in her favor.

  “Go ahead and list him under your accounts,” Liam said from around the corner.

  Startled, Morgan looked up to find Liam and Orton walking through the door.

  “I can’t,” Orton said, shaking his head. “You’re the one who hooked him.”

  “It wasn’t very hard to do,” Liam said. “You’d already paved the way.”

  “I didn’t pave anything. I had cast him away long ago. Never thought we’d reel him in.”

  “I take it you got Ritchu’s business,” Morgan said.

  Orton nodded. The fishing lures hooked on his baseball cap bobbed along. “Never saw it coming. Liam snagged him like a trout.” Orton cast his invisible line and yanked back.

  Liam nonchalantly sat behind his desk. “Go ahead and give Charlene the paperwork. We’ll need to get the boys started on the first work order.”

  Orton was quick to follow Liam’s direction.

  “I’m always afraid he’s going to injure himself with his hat,” Morgan said, staring at the blank space Orton had resided in just a moment ago.

  Liam smiled. “His car interior has seen better days.”

  “How did you get Ritchu’s business?” It wasn’t as if she needed pointers, but Orton had been after the man for years, and even Morgan had attempted once. She had vowed never to try again. The man might have enough work to keep them in business for decades, but his “requests” were unreasonable.

  “I agreed to one of his conditions.”

  Morgan sat rod straight. “What condition?”

  Liam’s gaze flickered up, humor in their depths. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  “What was the condition?” Morgan demanded.

  “I think you already know.”

  “Charlene!” Morgan bellowed. “Stop the paperwork on Ritchu!”

  Liam settled back into his chair, already too comfortable in his surroundings. “He’s a big client. I don’t see what you’re making a fuss about.”

  “The fuss?” Morgan sputtered. “I’m not sleeping with that disgusting slob!”

  Liam scratched his jaw. “But you would if he wasn’t a disgusting slob?”

  “No! I’m not sleeping with anyone to get their business. How dare you make assumptions!”

  “Good. Because that’s not the condition we agreed on.”

  “Oh.” Morgan slumped into her chair, relieved and miffed at the same time.

  “I’m not saying he didn’t ask. His first dozen requests were of you and . . . well, let’s just say I didn’t agree to any of them.”

  “Thank you.” Morgan didn’t know the man sitting opposite her, but she had thought he’d toss her under the bus at the first chance. Now, he left her feeling as though she was stuck on the spin cycle, only to have him press the stop button. Her head still spun. “So, what did you agree on?”

  “Any work over five thousand dollars will be discounted. The more work, the steeper the discounts.”

  “Orton and I tried that already. How come he signed with you?”

  The corners of Liam’s mouth kicked up. “I’m very persuasive.”

  Lord help her. She knew instantly he was exactly that.

  Chapter 5

  Morgan left the office as soon as it closed for the day. It was rare that she left with the rest of the staff, but she had to pack for her flight.

  And she had a headache.

  A Liam headache.

  The man oozed charm. He wore it like a superhero suit. Adding to it, his skill at operating an office was top-notch, and his knowledge on the metal business was spot-on. He was good. Too good. If Morgan disappeared today, he’d have the business running smoothly without even a hiccup. Probably even at a profit spike.

  Where did he come from?

  Before her flight, she’d ask Charlene for Liam’s file. Something wasn’t right. He could work at a giant corporation. Why Brennan?

  Morgan turned into her driveway, finding the garage blocked by two familiar cars. Morgan stifled a groan and parked beside the curb. She walked up the short path to her little square house.

  The house was an exact copy of the rest of the houses in the older neighborhood. They were all square two bedrooms, with one large picture window in the front. The one difference that set her house apart from the others was a seven-foot steel tulip planted in the middle of her yard. It was one of Piper’s earlier pieces.

  From the outside looking in, she could see the living room and a small portion of the cramped kitchen where her sisters animatedly worked.

  Morgan opened the unlocked door and dropped her purse in the normal spot on the side table.

  “I gave you keys only for emergency use,” Morgan said, trying to keep annoyance out of her tone.

  “You never have emergencies,” Greer replied, sweeping her long hair into a ponytail before opening the oven.

  “Well, this is kind of an emergency,” Piper said, her nose smudged with flour.

  “How so?”

  “My apartment is too small,” Greer answered.

  Hardly.

  “And I live with Grandpa,” Piper said. “You know he tends to fall asleep in front of guests.”

  Not if he likes them.

  “Guests?” Morgan questioned.

  “Well, just one.”

  Morgan unclenched her teeth to ask, “Who?”

  “Liam,” they both announced with a giggle.

  “Didn’t he ask you for directions?” Greer asked. “How will he know how to get here?”

  “He won’t, which means more food for me,” Morgan said, suddenly happy. She peeked under the lids of several pots. “I’m not in favor of you breaking into my house, but since you’re cooking dinner, I won’t complain.”

  “We’re not cooking for you,” Piper said. “We’re cooking for Liam.”

  “He’s not here,” Morgan said, dipping a spoon into the bubbling marinara sauce. She brought it to her mouth.

  “Hello?” Liam called from the doorway.

  “Ow!” Morgan dropped the scalding spoon and sped over to the faucet, tipping her head to flood her lip with cold water.

  “Nice going,” Greer said, holding a towel when Morgan emerged.

  Morgan snatched it from Greer, pressing the corner gingerly on her swelling lower lip.

  “How did you get here?” Morgan asked, wincing as her lip puffed.

  “Car.”

  “No, I meant without an address.”

  “I got it from the emergency contacts on the shop wall,” he said, holding out a bottle of wine. “The giant metal tulip was like an X on the treasure map. Piper’s masterpiece?”

  Piper nodded. A blush swept across her cheeks.

  Greer rushed forward. “You’re so smart.” She took the bottle from him with a dazzling smile. “Did you ever think about becoming a detective? My skills
at deduction are only so good as to help me find my keys.”

  Morgan stared at Greer. Her sister might be a bit of a flirt at times, but she was never so blatant. And she would never dumb herself down for a man, either.

  “Come sit down,” Piper said, gesturing to the couch. “We’ll be done with dinner really soon.”

  “Yes, really soon,” Greer parroted. “I’ll just open this up. Morgan, why don’t you sit down too?”

  Morgan flashed a suspicious glance at the sisters shepherding both her and Liam to the couch, where she was unceremoniously pushed into the space beside Liam.

  “You two talk. We’ll be right back,” Greer said.

  “Seems like we’ve been benched,” Liam said.

  “So it seems.” Morgan crossed her arms.

  Liam didn’t seem bothered. He stretched his legs out, his thigh brushing against hers. Morgan inched away.

  “They’re up to something,” she said, glancing at the kitchen.

  Morgan had thought for sure they’d lured Liam here for a shot at snagging him, but to dump her right next to their target was a little odd. Their long tradition of confounding Morgan continued.

  “Does it matter?” Liam asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Morgan gusted a long breath. “You don’t have sisters, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Then you’ll never know the horrors of them conspiring against you.”

  He raised a brow. “They’re cooking dinner.”

  “Which they never do.”

  “They’re being polite to the new guy.”

  “Which they never are.”

  “Never?”

  “Not never. It’s just . . . different.” Morgan bit her lip and winced at the pain.

  “Here, let me look at that,” Liam said, cupping her chin to tilt her head to him. “Maybe you should put some ice on it. It looks like a bee sting.”

  Morgan nodded, thankful to escape to the kitchen. She was going to get answers. Hurrying over to Greer, she wrapped her hand around her sister’s ponytail and gave a sharp warning tug.

  Greer yelped. “Stop pulling.”

  “Tell me what the hell is going on,” Morgan demanded.

  Piper stood near the stove, stirring the sauce. She looked to Greer for guidance. Ah, so this was Greer’s idea. Typical. Morgan tugged again.

  “Nothing is going on!” Greer whispered harshly. “Let go of my hair.”

  “Not until you tell me why this feels like a setup. I thought you and Piper were interested in Liam.”

  Greer rolled her eyes. “We’re redirecting.”

  “What does that mean?”

  When Greer didn’t answer, Morgan yanked.

  “You already know that Piper likes Van,” Greer said, gripping the top of her ponytail. She tugged, trying to separate herself from Morgan.

  Of course Morgan knew Piper liked Van, but she also remembered the conversation she’d had earlier with her.

  “What about you?” Morgan asked Greer.

  “He’s not interested in me.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because he only agreed to dinner after I said it would be at your house. He didn’t want dinner with me. He wanted dinner with you. Piper and I are just here to cook, and then we’ll disappear. You can thank us tomorrow.”

  Morgan’s hand fisted tighter.

  Greer squeaked. “Stop acting like a gorilla! Seriously, what’s the problem?”

  Morgan no longer knew what the problem was. There seemed to be so many. But she could at least contain two problems. Her sisters.

  “Is everything . . .” Liam stalled as he rounded the corner. “. . . okay?”

  Greer grappled for the poultry shears. “If you don’t let go right now, I’ll cut my hair!”

  Morgan let out a jagged breath, untangling her hand. She knew Greer would do it just to have complaining rights for the rest of her life. If it was possible, she was more stubborn than . . . well, it didn’t matter. Her hair was too pretty to fall prey to shears. And Liam was looking at the three of them as if they had green spots.

  She settled her gaze on him. “Since you want to work for our family business — heaven knows why — you’ve now inherited sisters.” Morgan flashed a fake smile to Liam. “You’ve now been embroiled in one of their schemes.”

  “Have I?” he asked, not looking at all concerned.

  “Yes.” She stepped away from Greer before her hand became active again. “And, if you’ll excuse me, I have to pack.”

  Greer’s perfectly groomed brows furrowed. “Why do you have to pack? You just got back.”

  “Didn’t you read the email I sent out today?” Morgan asked, knowing very well Greer hadn’t. Greer’s head was either in water or surrounded by animals at the shelter where she volunteered. She only appeared long enough to cause havoc before skipping away, ponytail swaying.

  The bugger of it was that she was more sweet than sour, more kind than treacherous, and more loving than not. She just had streaks of middle child syndrome that’d come out to taunt Morgan every once in a while.

  “You know I had to work at the shelter this afternoon. I only had time to shower before coming here.”

  “I have to head back to Vegas tomorrow. My plane leaves in the morning, so I have to pack tonight.” Morgan brushed past Liam. She didn’t have a choice. Four people in a small kitchen didn’t leave enough room for personal space.

  “Wait,” Greer said, pouring two glasses of wine and handing one each to Liam and Morgan. “I’ll give you five minutes to pack, but I suggest you use those minutes wisely because you won’t get any more until we leave, which will be very late.”

  Morgan casually sipped her wine, assessing Greer’s smug expression. First Greer and Piper were going to leave as soon as dinner was cooked, and now they were staying?

  “I can help,” Piper said, clattering a lid onto a pot. “You gather, I’ll pack.”

  “It’s okay,” Morgan said, dismissing Piper. “I’ll only be gone for a day or two. I think I can manage.”

  Morgan felt three pairs of eyes trailing her as she walked down the short hallway and turned into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. In all honesty, she could pack with her eyes closed. Her duffel bag was in the corner next to the dresser. Her jeans and long-sleeved work shirts were in the bottom drawer. Underwear, two drawers up. A travel necessity case was sitting on the top of the dresser. If there was a drill, she could be packed and out to her car in thirty seconds.

  She just wanted a chance to breathe.

  Morgan walked across her gray and lavender room until she reached her bed. After taking a fortifying gulp of wine and placing the glass on the nightstand, she fell face first into bed. The thick comforter swallowed her groan.

  All night?

  She was going to have to try to be pleasant all night?

  Morgan sighed, knowing she wasn’t off to a very good start, but she wouldn’t blame herself entirely. She had been ambushed. And why would they try to set her up with Liam? She didn’t want a boyfriend, especially not him. Boyfriends were demanding. They left socks on the floor. They sucked up too much time and energy. She didn’t need that kind of headache at this stage of her life. Perhaps when she turned late-thirty-something and her clock began noisily ticking.

  She cringed.

  She had to stay focused and get through the next couple of days. After that, she could plan. Something had to change for the better. She couldn’t keep this up for the rest of her life.

  * * *

  Liam leaned against the kitchen counter as Piper and Greer fluttered about, preparing dinner and filling his ears with idle chitchat. He smiled when he was supposed to and answered questions when asked, but his mind was busy inventorying the house.

  It wasn’t very large; quite small, actually. But there were plenty of hiding places. He’d already searched every inch of Morgan’s office. Would there be anything here?

  He hoped
so.

  If he couldn’t find evidence, then he’d have to catch her in the act. Thankfully, that might happen tomorrow in Vegas.

  “Do you think it’s been five minutes yet?” Greer asked.

  Liam thought it had to be at least twenty minutes.

  “I think it’s only been three minutes,” Piper said. “I can go get her if you want.”

  “No, you keep an eye on dinner,” Greer said. “Liam, would you go knock on her door and see if she’s ready?”

  Liam nodded, knowing full well he was a pawn in their plot. Since it helped with his, he’d be a willing participant. He set his wine glass on the counter and walked down the short hallway to Morgan’s bedroom. He rapped softly on the door.

  No answer.

  Slowly, he cracked the door open and peeked in to find Morgan on her bed. Her face was buried into the fluffy lavender comforter.

  Was she asleep?

  Liam opened the door wider and stepped in. If she was sleeping, he could quickly search her room.

  “Go away.”

  Morgan’s muffled order caught Liam just as he had turned his attention to the dresser. He glanced over to find her still face down.

  “I was told to come and get you. It’s been five minutes.”

  Morgan lifted her head to peer at Liam. She groaned and let her head fall back down.

  “You’re going to suffocate if you lie like that.”

  “Good.”

  Liam couldn’t help but smile. He sat on the bed and leaned against the steel headboard, making himself at home. He knew it would irritate her.

  She must have designed the headboard. For one thing, it was metal. And for another, it was hard and unyielding, like her. Although, the flower cutouts and brushed stainless steel added softness. It was a well-crafted piece.

  Morgan peered up again. “You’re still here.”

  “I only have two choices. I can hide in here with you or go back out to the kitchen. I hate to break it to you, but you win.”

  Morgan rolled to her side, her arm propping up her head. She looked at him flatly. “I’m more entertaining than those two?” Her eyes flicked to the open door.

  “You have no idea,” he said.

  “Oh, but I do.” Morgan’s lips tugged at the corners.