What a Woman Wants (A Manley Maids Novel)

by Fennell, Judi

  And Sean. They’d accepted him right away. Georgia even had a little crush on him.

  Livvy could so relate.

  Hello? Mind back on the matter—person—at hand.

  “Um, yes?”

  “Hi. I’m Mac Manley.” The woman walked toward her, hand outstretched. “I own Manley Maids.”

  And here Livvy had thought Sean was the reason the company had that name. Still, a good marketing strategy to have manly maids.

  “Nice to meet you.” Livvy shook her hand.

  “I wanted to stop by to see how things were going. I always like to say hi to new clients, even though, technically the Martinson estate isn’t new, since we’ve been contracted for the last year. How’s Sean working out for you? Are you satisfied with his performance?”

  Not yet . . .

  Livvy coughed. Hmmm, she seemed to have caught his coughing bug. “Uh, yes. He’s doing a great job.”

  “Good, I’m glad to hear it. I pride myself on giving my clients excellent service. So Sean’s everything you’d wanted?”

  She was such the bad person for twisting this woman’s comments into something hot and sexy.

  Livvy gathered the sides of her unbuttoned blouse together and overlapped them across her camisole before crossing her arms. “Uh, yes. It’s—he’s—fine.” He certainly was. In so many ways. He made her smile, and made her laugh. And he looked damn good doing so. “Has he worked for you long?”

  Mac laughed. “Sean? Not long, but he’s good. I wouldn’t let him work for me otherwise. My clients’ satisfaction is my top priority.” She propped her hands on her hips. “So, are there any other needs you have that Manley Maids can fulfill?”

  Livvy seriously needed to get her mind out of the gutter because she was ready to spout off a list that one certain Manley Maid could fulfill. “Uh, no. I think I’m good. Sean’s, uh, handling all aspects of the job just fine. He’s even helping me with a few extra projects.”

  “Oh?”

  Darn, even she could raise one eyebrow. “I’m planning to sell the place and he’s doing things like cleaning out these stalls to help me get it ready. They were packed with boxes and I didn’t have anywhere to put my animals.” She told her about the incident in the salon. “He was more than a little put out.”

  “I can see how he would be.” Mac crossed her arms and tapped her fingers on her arm.

  “He’s very conscientious.”

  “Isn’t he, though?” Mac looked around.

  “And he’s helping me with a scavenger hunt.”

  “A what?”

  Livvy explained about Merriweather’s bizarre idea of a joke. “So if I don’t get all the clues to Mr. Scanlon in the next two weeks, I lose the estate.”

  “And Sean’s helping you look?”

  “Yes. It’s really nice of him.”

  “Isn’t it just?” Mac pulled a business card from her pocket and handed it to Livvy. “Here’s my card. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call me. I like to keep my customers happy.”

  Livy wanted to say that Sean did, too, but she was worried that she’d gushed a little too much about him. She didn’t want Mac getting the wrong idea about her and Sean.

  MAC had a damn good idea what Sean was up to with Livvy. And she wanted to kill him. No wonder he’d jumped on the Martinson estate the minute she’d mentioned it.

  She’d thought she’d have to convince him, but no. This was the place he was planning to buy. She knew all about the big property he was in negotiations to turn into his luxury resort. Knew, too, that Liam and Bryan were in on it. She’d been a little bummed that she hadn’t been able to get in on the action, but her bank account couldn’t compete with theirs, which was why she’d had to resort to cardsharping at the poker game.

  But this made sense. Sean had been a little too accepting of one of her biggest clients. She’d come out today to check in, to make sure everything was okay, and talk to the two of them about publicity shots, both for the estate and for Manley Maids.

  But with Sean trying to sabotage Livvy, that option was out.

  It wouldn’t look good when it came out that Manley Maids had put him in the position to sabotage her. If he succeeded, Manley Maids’ name would be dragged through the mud. Suddenly her little poker bet took on ramifications of epic proportions.

  Winners never cheat and cheaters never win. Gran must have said that a thousand times during her childhood.

  But she hadn’t cheated. Not really. Counting cards was a talent; it wasn’t as if she’d palmed any of them. She’d just known with a reasonable certainty that she’d had the high hand that last round. She wouldn’t have bet her company, her future, on a whim unless she’d been reasonably certain of winning.

  But she’d never seen this coming.

  She parked at the back entrance to the house and strode toward the door, stubbing her toe on a dislodged brick in the walkway. She made a mental note to tell Sean about that. He could add that to his other “special projects” list.

  She found him in the salon, rolling up the rug that must be the one the goats chewed.

  “I hear you’ve got ulterior motives.”

  “Hey, Mac.” He looked up, his hair mussed and his face a bit sweaty. Damn, he was a good-looking man, and if she could only advertise him like that, she’d have women offering double for his services.

  The jerk.

  “Don’t hey Mac me, Sean. I know what you’re up to and I’m telling you to stop. You don’t get to sabotage Livvy’s inheritance and my company for some stupid resort that people with too much money don’t need. They can go to the Catskills if they’re so hell-bent on roughing it in luxury.”

  “Mac, calm down.”

  “No I will not calm down. This is my business. My livelihood we’re talking about. How could you? How could you do this to me? I trusted you.”

  “You think I like the idea, Mac? Trust me, it’s the last thing I want to do.” He didn’t deny it, thankfully. Not that she would have believed him, but at least he wasn’t lying to her face. By omission, yes, but the pot couldn’t really call the kettle black on this one.

  “The project’s too far along at this point. I’ve invested almost everything I have in this. I have money out for inspections and architecture and engineering reviews. Design fees and interest and a whole bunch of other expenses I’ll lose if this deal doesn’t happen. Business is business, but I’m trying to come up with a way so no one gets hurt because it’ll break me if it doesn’t happen.”

  “You’re not the only one, Sean. This is my business. If you do this, if word gets out, I’ll be finished.”

  “I’ll give you the contract here. Nothing will change.”

  “Everything will change. First of all, nepotism is as dirty a word as some others I can think of and I shouldn’t need nepotism to keep a contract I got on my own in the first place. I’ve worked hard to keep it. And what about Livvy? What do you think she’s going to do when she finds out?”

  “It should never have been an issue, Mac. Everything was falling into place until Merriweather had a last-minute change of heart and pulled a fast one. I had to react. For all of us: you, me, Liam, Bryan. Gran.

  “Don’t you bring Gran into this, Sean. Don’t you dare. She’s completely innocent of any of this.” Mac bit her lip. That wasn’t exactly true, but Gran hadn’t been the one who’d counted the cards. “And if you think this was last minute on Merriweather’s part, you obviously didn’t know her very well. She never did anything last minute. If she was going to change her will, you can be damn sure she knew exactly what and exactly why she was doing it, and she definitely knew how she was doing it. For some reason, she led you on. Promised you things she might have had no intention of delivering. But she’d also been working the Livvy angle. This was no fluke. That woman didn’t make fly-by-night decisions. Ever. Trus
t me. She had a plan.”

  Sean sat on the rug. “Okay. Fine. Whatever, but the fact is, I need this place. I’ve got a lot of money tied up in it.”

  “So buy it like anyone else would.”

  He cocked his head. “The budget’s not there.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have bitten off more than you can chew.”

  “I didn’t. All my plans were based on numbers she gave me. The numbers I still have a chance of hitting if Livvy doesn’t inherit. Then the property’s mine.”

  “How can you do that to her? Hasn’t she been through enough with this family? Now you’re going to steal the one thing they’ve finally given her? How can you live with yourself, Sean?”

  He swiped a hand over his mouth. “It’s complicated, Mac.”

  “Yeah, no kidding. And you’re dragging me down with you.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’m sorry, Sean, but you’re fired.”

  “You can’t fire me.”

  “I just did.”

  “I could tell her you knew all about it.”

  “You’re blackmailing me?”

  “No. But I could.”

  “So you are.”

  “No, Mac, I’m not. I’m trying to salvage this for everyone, but if I leave now, that’s it. It’s done. Over. I lose. Guaranteed. Give me until Livvy’s deadline. I’ll come up with something.”

  Mac stared at him. She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. She needed to think of her company. Of her reputation.

  But she also thought about all the times her brothers had stood up for her. Had protected her. Had helped her and Gran. They were good guys. All of them. If Sean said he’d find a way for it to work for everyone, she had to give him that shot. How many times had they cut her some slack? “Fine. But only if you can find another way.”

  “I’m working on it, Mac.”

  She exhaled and turned around. She had to get started on Liam and Bryan’s promo because Sean’s was a lost cause. “I can’t believe I—”

  “You what?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.” No way was she going to spill The Plan. The one she’d started and Gran had joined in with.

  She’d wanted to use her wealthy, good-looking brothers as promotional tools, totally capitalizing on the play on their last name and how good they looked in those uniforms. Gran had wanted to find them women to fall in love with, and what better way than putting them in those women’s homes? Mac had seen the instant benefit to herself: Gran would be busy with her brothers’ love lives and stay out of hers.

  It’d been perfect. So when Mr. Scanlon had called her to discuss Manley Maids’ contract and had mentioned Livvy would be arriving, she’d done her research. When she saw Livvy’s picture, she’d figured Sean wouldn’t be able to resist. That was why she’d offered him the Martinson estate. If only she’d known this was the place he was planning to buy, she would have done things differently.

  Karma was paying her back in spades for those five hearts she’d thrown on the poker table.

  Sean exhaled. Long and loud. “Look, I’ll come up with something, but I’m not going to lose Lee and Bry’s investment. They believe in me; I have to deliver.”

  Her heart ached for him. He’d always had it tougher than the other two. Middle child, second son, learning problems in school, always acting out . . . Sean had had to claw and scrape for everything he had, unlike Liam, who things came easy to, or Bryan, who’d had that face since birth and women coming on to him shortly thereafter. Things came easy to those two, but Sean? He’d had to work as hard as she did.

  And with what she’d pulled at the poker game, did she really have any room to call him on what he was thinking of doing?

  “You can’t leave her high and dry, Sean. She has to get something out of this. It’s not fair.”

  “I know, Mac. And I don’t want to hurt Livvy. I have two weeks. I’m working on finding a solution. I have no intention of letting her walk away with nothing. I’m not a heartless bastard, just a desperate one. You think I like doing this to her? She’s a nice person. Merriweather caused this, not me. But I can’t walk away from the millions of dollars in earning potential, not to mention the money I’ve already invested.”

  “And Manley Maids. You have to make sure my reputation is intact.”

  “I promise. I’ll do what needs to be done to make sure your name isn’t harmed.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “That makes three of us because I can guarantee you she’s not going to, either.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  SEAN stared at his laptop screen again. The numbers didn’t lie. They also didn’t add up. No matter what he’d promised Mac, he couldn’t hit the benchmarks he needed to if he paid Livvy more money—if he could even come up with it. Maybe she’d be willing to sell it to him for Merriweather’s price.

  But why should she? She didn’t owe him anything.

  He skimmed the list of potential investors he’d compiled. It was either them or asking Livvy to take the lesser amount, and he really didn’t want to risk showing his hand in the event she said no.

  God, he was so sick of the poker reference.

  He shut down the computer and pulled on a T-shirt, damn glad to be out of his uniform, and headed to the racquetball court with Liam. He’d research the clue he and Livvy had found when he got back, because if he had to stay in this house one more minute, he’d go nuts.

  This whole scenario was driving him nuts.

  And so was Orwell, who swooped into his room and landed on his shoulder. “Oops, did it again!”

  The bird was either mimicking a pop star or it’d done something Sean really didn’t want to know about. But, of course, in morbid dread he asked, “What did you do, Orwell?”

  The bird’s answer was the next line about playing with someone’s heart.

  Not the song Sean needed right now. Wasn’t there a line in it about getting lost in a game?

  Sean transferred the parrot to his hand and strode down the hall toward Livvy’s open door to return Orwell to his rightful caretaker.

  He was already through it when he realized he should have knocked.

  She walked out of the bathroom in a towel before she realized he was in the room.

  Orwell went into a rendition of Donna Summers’s “Bad Girls” that Sean did not need to hear.

  “Orwell!” Livvy’s face turned as red as her hair and she held out her hand for the parrot. The movement loosened her towel and she had to scramble to keep all parts covered.

  Talk about a shame.

  Sean finally remembered to turn around. “Oh, sorry. The door was open and I didn’t think . . .”

  “Actually, it was closed. Orwell hates to be caged in, but I didn’t think he’d see the room as a cage. And I certainly didn’t know he knew how to operate a latch. That’s going to make things, um, interesting.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll leave you to . . .” He waved his hand behind him. “I’ve got a racquetball game tonight, so I’ll see you later.”

  “You play racquetball?”

  Keep moving, Manley.

  Of course he didn’t. “Yeah.”

  “I haven’t played racquetball in years.”

  Walk out now, Manley. “You play?”

  “Not very well. But we had a court at school and I enjoyed it.”

  Sean squeezed his eyes shut for a second. He didn’t need this temptation. He so didn’t.

  But he turned around anyway. “You want to come?”

  “You sure you wouldn’t mind?”

  Oh, he’d mind. The entire time she was running around the court in shorts and a T-shirt that wouldn’t hide a single thing, with sweat running all over her body, her skin pink from the exertion, he’d mind. A lot.

  He’d mind that all that exertion wasn’t for him, and that he couldn’t pee
l her T-shirt and shorts from her body and slick his hands over her silky skin—

  “No. Not at all. I’ll call Liam and see if he can find someone else for a foursome.”

  There was a word—and an image—he didn’t need.

  He was going to have to wear an athletic cup for tonight’s game because nylon shorts wouldn’t hide his reaction to her any more than those stupid work pants did.

  He had a feeling nothing would when it came to Livvy.

  YOU brought Cassidy?” Sean didn’t know whether to laugh or be horrified. Cassidy Davenport, Liam’s client, was the only person he could imagine who’d be more out of place on a racquetball court than Livvy.

  Liam unzipped his racquetball bag, then put on his glove. “It’s not like I had a lot of time to come up with someone else, and she overheard.”

  Sean looked over to where the girls were warming up. “She’s in pink. Rhinestones.”

  “Tell me about it.” Liam rolled his eyes.

  Sean decided to laugh because poor Lee hated pink as much as he hated rhinestones. Probably more than any guy alive. But then, he had reason to.

  “She does know that this is a sport, right? That you get hot and sweaty and the makeup will slide off her face?”

  “If she doesn’t, she soon will. That could make this whole thing worthwhile.” Liam slung his racket over his shoulder. “Any progress with the gypsy chick?”

  Sean had to laugh at himself this time. He’d thought he’d have to worry about Livvy in tight shorts and a T-shirt, not some skirt thing that flared over her hips with beads dangling from it and a flouncy shirt that he was half afraid was going to fly up if she switched direction too fast. A workout outfit only in Livvy’s world, but she said she hadn’t been planning to need one during her sojourn at the estate, so this would have to do. Thank God, she’d at least had sneakers; those combat boots she was so fond of would have had her breaking an ankle on the first play.