by Lacey Baker
“Inez was the brains behind the scam. Nikki’s still trying to figure out how Inez got mixed up with her ex Randy and his money-laundering scheme as well,” Quinn added.
Preston remembered Randy Davis’s murder in Easton and the cops who had come to Sweetland accusing Nikki of killing him. As it turned out Randy had been murdered by some big-time loan shark from New York, but that was after he’d made a contact in Sweetland.
“I can’t believe Hoover didn’t get any jail time,” Parker said.
“Not enough evidence to convict him of any crime,” Preston added with a shrug.
“His only crime was loving the wrong woman and spending too much time with a bottle in his hand,” Quinn added. “And speaking of loving women.”
“Nobody was speaking of loving women but you, Quinn,” Parker joked. “You’re the only one of us crazy enough to take that kind of plunge.”
“I’m the only one smart enough to know a good thing when I see it,” Quinn replied. “And from what I hear another one of us might have a good thing staring right at him as well.”
It was the instant silence that grabbed Preston’s attention. He’d been staring at the dogs; then his attention had drifted to the water and the spot where he and Heaven had stood last night while he taught her to skip rocks. It had gone as well as teaching a female a generally male pastime could go. Actually he’d been thinking more about the sound of her laughter when she finally got it to work and the look of contentment as she continued on.
“Town’s already abuzz with the news. What do you have to say about that, Preston?”
“What?” he turned asking Parker. “What do I have to say about what?”
Quinn chuckled. “First sign you’re slipping is the memory loss.”
“Second sign is gazing off and ignoring an important business meeting to daydream,” Parker added, which only increased Quinn’s laughter.
“I heard everything you jerks had to say. We’re okay on all the bills, even the property taxes that Inez tried to use to foreclose on the inn. Quinn and Nikki are doing a fine job managing the place, and business couldn’t be better. See, I heard everything.”
“You even heard the part about you kissing that pretty newcomer in the middle of town. Right?” Quinn asked, looking up at him from his keyboard.
Preston shrugged. “Pure impulse.”
“Ha! That’s my forte,” Parker told him. “You mean to tell me you didn’t ask her in that smooth and charming way of yours if you could have a kiss?”
Preston shook his head. “Didn’t want to wait for her answer,” he admitted, a small smile creeping up.
“That’s my brother,” Parker added, raising his hand for a high five.
Preston moved, albeit a bit reluctantly, to slap his brother’s palm. He had thought about kissing Heaven before he’d actually done it. Actually, he’d been thinking of nothing else since he’d opened that door and she’d basically fallen into his arms. And the truth was he didn’t want to ask her for the kiss, because he didn’t want her to consider the option of saying no. Not because she didn’t want it. Preston felt the attraction buzzing between them as if it were a live beehive. And he was almost positive Heaven felt it as well; she just didn’t accept the inevitable as easily as he did.
“So you kissed her, now what?” Quinn asked.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Preston followed up, staring from one brother to the next.
Parker raised a hand. “Wait a minute, you telling me you don’t know what comes after kissing a woman? You’re killing our reputation, man, just killing it,” he guffawed.
“Shut up,” Preston joked. “Nobody’s damaging our reputation. I just kissed her, that’s all. She’s not staying in Sweetland. She’s going home tomorrow.”
“After she adopts Coco,” Quinn said slowly.
Preston sighed. It had been his original thought to keep her from adopting the puppy, or to stall the process at least. That way she would stay here longer. After last night he wasn’t so sure about that plan. When she talked about why she’d come to Sweetland she’d sounded so sincere, like adopting Coco was definitely going to save her life in some way. He didn’t have the heart to keep that from her.
“Right, after she adopts Coco,” he said solemnly.
He didn’t want the dog. Like he’d told her, it wasn’t because he couldn’t take care of it, because he could. There was nothing stopping him from buying a house outside of the city, but close enough that he could still commute to work. That would most likely be in one of the counties immediately surrounding Baltimore. His caseload was hectic and would no doubt continue to increase as long as he stayed in criminal law. So financially he was ripe to purchase a home. But that felt annoyingly like subscribing to the mandated life plan that came with living in Sweetland.
“Gramma wanted us to keep the puppies, and she wanted us all to stay in Sweetland,” Quinn said with a sort of finality.
Because Quinn was the oldest, more often than not the siblings looked to him to make the tough family decisions. Michelle liked to believe she was the head of the family, and a lot of times Quinn would side with her, but ever since their father passed Quinn had been the man of the Cantrell clan.
“My job is in Baltimore,” Preston said. “And so is yours,” he added with a glance in Parker’s direction so that it didn’t seem like this portion of the conversation was all about him, even though he was certain that’s the way it was leaning.
“Things change,” was Quinn’s simple response to both of them.
* * *
“We’re so understaffed,” Raine said in a huff.
“It’s going to be fine,” Nikki replied, reaching behind her back to tie the brand-new black apron with THE SILVER SPOON in script letters above an actual silver spoon on the front bib.
This was the new logo for the inn and restaurant that she and Michelle had discussed for the last four weeks. Quinn’s approval had come after a candlelight dinner and night of lovemaking that had left both of them a little dreamy afterward. The new sign had been hung out front a week ago; new menus had been printed, and now the aprons. Mary Janet would certainly be proud.
“One hundred and ten people will be in the dining room of the restaurant in about twenty-five minutes. We have three people to serve while Michelle stays in the kitchen supervising the food. How is that going to be okay?” Raine continued with her mini tirade.
“Parker is here and he’s volunteered to serve as the host. He’ll direct everyone to tables, bathrooms, et cetera. Two Williams family members will be at the door to take tickets, and the rest of the Williams clan will file in afterward. Everything is buffet-style except for the crabs. Fifteen tables divided by the three of us gives each of us five tables to serve.”
Raine gasped. “Five!”
Nikki simply rolled her eyes. Normally, Savannah was known as the emotional, temperamental Cantrell. Raine was the quiet, reserved one. Today, however, was not a good day for Raine to try to take Savannah’s place.
“I can help,” Heaven said in a low voice.
It wasn’t that she hoped nobody would hear her; she had really meant to volunteer. All morning she’d played with Coco, courtesy of someone knocking on her door around nine AM and leaving the puppy sitting there with an adorably innocent look on its face. Their time had gone uninterrupted, which she hadn’t really anticipated since this house always seemed to be brewing with people.
Now Coco was happily enjoying the company of her mother and siblings and Heaven had nothing else to do. Sitting in her room alone only gave her time to think, which really was beginning to be a daunting pastime since the thoughts were starting to revolve entirely around Preston Cantrell.
“Great!” was Nikki’s excited response. “Stay right here, I’ll go get you an apron. Don’t move and don’t change your mind,” she ordered Heaven.
The smaller woman with her head full of riotous curls and smiling face was really nice. In fact, all of the females in this
household had been nothing but nice to her. The brothers, too, for that matter, with the exception of Preston. He ran hot and cold and somewhere in between, which was what he was last night by the water. He’d been patient with her, talking in a soothing, not condescending tone as he taught her, of all things, how to skip rocks. Never in Heaven’s years at private schools, etiquette training, college, grad school, or working at the lab and mingling in her parents’ society circles had she thought of skipping rocks in a river on a hot summer’s night.
But it had been one of the most engaging moments of her life.
“Have you ever worked in a restaurant before?” asked Raine, who wore black slacks, a white shirt, and an adorable apron.
“No. I’m a biochemist. I normally stay cooped up in a lab for about twelve hours a day,” she said, trying to ignore how dreadfully dull that sounded.
“Sounds intriguing,” Raine added with a nod. “I’m a teacher. But for the last few weeks I’ve been a waitress, a maid, a hostess, a dog walker, and whatever else Michelle could find for me to do.”
The words might have sounded like a complaint, but Heaven noted a light in Raine’s eyes as she spoke that said she wasn’t totally dissatisfied.
“All things you wanted to be in your next lifetime?” she asked jokingly.
Raine laughed. Her elegantly arched brows rose a little, her already high cheeks lifted a little higher, and her lips spread in a wide grin. She was astonishingly pretty even though you wouldn’t notice it right away because she hardly ever smiled.
“Okay, I’m here,” an exasperated voice sounded as Savannah entered the room.
This sister was more than used to smiling. Heaven had thought she’d recognized her the evening after they first met, and while she’d been online checking her emails the next morning she’d seen a perfume ad with none other than Savannah Cantrell gloriously draped over a suede sofa wearing a gorgeous black gown.
“Great, now there are six of us. Heaven’s going to help out,” Raine told a questioning Savannah.
“Wow, we’re putting the guests to work now,” Savannah quipped. “Welcome aboard, Heaven.”
Heaven smiled and figured it wouldn’t be so bad.
* * *
Three hours later every part of her body hurt—from her neck, which just seemed stiff, to the toes that screamed for mercy in the sandals she’d come downstairs in before she knew she’d be standing on her feet all day. She smelled like crab, which might not have been so bad if she’d had a chance to at least taste the spicy crustacean. A hot shower and her bed were what she was looking forward to after barely escaping the females in the kitchen, who were finished putting away food and cleaning but thought it was entertaining to sit around the island and share their sandwiches and coffee. Heaven felt as if she’d shared more than enough today. Besides, she needed to get up early tomorrow morning to head over to the adoption place and finalize all the paperwork. Then she’d be on her way home, to Boston.
On her way back to the memories—the inquisition, as she should probably call it. Investigators were still poring over her office and her private papers, she knew. The suspicion was still on her. She’d caused the explosion; she’d almost killed herself but had succeeded at killing the lab assistant and janitor who had been in the lab that fateful day six months ago. Ultimately, she’d cost Larengetics Pharmaceuticals millions of dollars in research and lost donations for their cure to Alzheimer’s.
So why was she in a hurry to go back again?
Thoughts followed her like lost pets as she walked up the stairs. Entering her room, her shoulders slumped, not just from the strain of working manually for the last couple of hours, but from carrying all the guilt she thought she’d earned. After her shower she climbed into bed, ignoring the bologna-and-cheese sandwich she’d taken from Michelle and opting to bury her head beneath the covers instead. Denial had been her friend for so long, she didn’t know how to abandon it.
* * *
And even more hours later Heaven was still awake and the covers over her head had been replaced by dried-up tears that made her cheeks feel stiff. Her mouth was dry and her head hurt, along with all the other aches and pains she was still experiencing. Still, she wondered why she wasn’t asleep, almost berated herself for not at least being able to do that correctly.
From the nightstand her cell phone vibrated. It was late, just after midnight, so she was more than a little alarmed by the intrusion. Reaching for it she saw through the lighted screen that it was her mother, or her father, since it was the main number to their Beacon Street home.
“Hello?” she answered hastily.
“Heaven, dear, it’s your mother.”
Of course it was her. Opaline Montgomery, Boston’s most elite and upstanding socialite.
“Hi, Mom. It’s really late, is everything all right? Is Dad okay?” she asked, worry prickling against the pain in her temples.
“He’s fine, and I know what time it is. We just came in from the Frostburgs’ dinner party. You know they have this every year. Johanna was a bit perturbed by your absence. Her impending nuptials were announced.”
Really? Heaven prayed this wasn’t what her mother had called her in the middle of the night to tell her. Actually, if her father was all right, there really was no reason Opaline should be calling her at this time. Except that for Opaline, whatever she deemed important, at whatever time, came first, no questions asked.
“Great. I hope she and Daniel will be very happy together.” Even though together they made the most boring couple Heaven had ever met.
“We should be planning a wedding of our own. A summer wedding would be best and just about a year to plan. Geoffrey’s proposal still stands. I spoke to him last week, and he’s willing to take you back.”
Geoffrey Billingsley could barely stand himself. He was a forty-five-year-old financial wizard whose bank account tended to drown out the fact that he was an alcoholic with a pretty abusive nature when provoked, and when not. He’d proposed to Heaven at her parents’ annual New Year’s Eve party—it seemed everyone in Opaline’s social circle had a specific time of year they hosted their signature parties. The explosion happened one week after that. She hadn’t heard from or seen Geoffrey since.
“He can’t take back what he never had,” she replied drily.
“Nonsense. You know what I mean.”
“Is this what you called for, Mom?” Because if it was, she was so tempted to hang the damned phone up in her ear.
“Don’t be rude, Heaven. You know that will not be tolerated.”
Don’t be anything, Heaven—don’t be yourself, don’t be adventurous, don’t be courageous or even independent for that matter—it will not be tolerated.
“Mother, it’s late. I was asleep. Please tell me what this call is about?” See, not rude, just like the dutiful daughter was supposed to speak to her overbearing and controlling mother.
“I want you to come home. We want you to come home. Geoffrey has agreed to come to the house for dinner on Wednesday. Your father has canceled his meetings, and I’ve rearranged my foundation luncheon to get prepared. Now, I want you home by Tuesday night. We need to pick out your dress and get you ready to receive Geoffrey.”
Like Geoffrey was the prize of the century she should be ecstatic to accept.
“No.”
The word slipped from her lips before Heaven could reconsider it, or rephrase it, or simply not say it.
“Excuse me?”
Right. Wrong response.
“I’m in Maryland and I won’t be home until the end of the week.” Yes, it was a lie, but her mother didn’t need to know that. And Heaven did not want to see Geoffrey or accept his dismal wedding proposal.
“What in God’s name are you doing in Maryland? You’re supposed to be resting at home. Isn’t that what your doctor ordered?”
“No. It’s not. I’m actually doing exactly what my doctor ordered.” Not that her mother gave a damn about what anybody besides herself orde
red Heaven to do.
“I’m not talking about that quack you insist on seeing. She does not have a medical degree.”
“She’s a licensed counselor and she’s helping me.”
“She’s helping you spend your money. Which is in effect my money.”
Right, Opal Montgomery never let anyone forget that she was a wealthy woman. Not even her daughter.
“I’ve never touched my trust fund. I am a successful biochemist and I make a good salary.”
“Do not act offended when I state the obvious. Furthermore, we can have this discussion another time. Call me tomorrow with your flight information and I’ll send Jiles to pick you up at the airport.”
“There is no need. I will not be returning to Boston until Friday.”
“Geoffrey is not available on Friday.”
Great!
“That’s when I’m returning, Mother. I’ll talk to you later,” Heaven said. “Good night.”
But she didn’t dare hang up yet.
“Heaven, this is not acceptable. Your insolence is causing a dreadful headache. I will call you in the morning, and we can take a look at available flights. Get some rest. Frown lines and circles beneath your eyes will not impress Geoffrey.”
And with that Opal disconnected the call. Without a “good night,” without a “how are you my only child who has endured a traumatic event,” nothing.
Heaven wasn’t surprised.
Chapter 9
“A preliminary hearing and two DUIs are all you have for the upcoming week. I can take them for you if you need to stay with your family. Of course, if we act on my idea of hiring a couple of associates to help balance out our workload, we’d both be able to have some semblance of a life.”
Joseph Baskerville always had a solution. No matter what the problem, he could fix it, and if he couldn’t he found someone who would—prime example, the not-so-subtle suggestion of hiring associates he’d been making to Preston for the last couple of months.
