by Amberlee Day
Cleo grinned at the look on Van’s face. Tables turned! Let Van Rivers see what it feels like to be discussed as if he wasn’t in the room. And yet, she didn’t want to alienate her new employer. “While he may not be an expert, Lily,” she said, “I bet your uncle wants to understand you better. Is that right, Mr. Rivers?”
Lily didn’t look convinced, but Van seemed to try to gather a reply as he served himself soup into the bowl Mrs. Fortney provided. “To address the charges made at me: first of all,” he said, “‘middle-aged?’”
Cleo shrugged. “Give or take a few years.”
“Since when did thirty-seven become middle-aged?”
“Well ... you’re older than me,” Cleo said. “How about you, Lily?”
“He’s a lot older than me. Thirty-seven is like old-aged.”
Cleo smiled at Van, who looked mildly irritated. “There you have it.” She dipped a grilled cheese triangle into her soup. “I’ll be generous and stick with middle-aged.”
“Furthermore,” he said, ignoring the age remarks, “while I may not be an expert on ten-year-old girls, I would bet a bucket full of oyster pearls that private mermaid lessons would interest a lot of them.”
“I think he has you there.” Cleo gave Lily an apologetic look. “Truthfully, at mermaid camp we hardly have time to teach the girls the basics of mermaiding.”
“What about girls who stay longer?” Lily tried. “If you go to mermaid camp every day for a month, let’s say, then would you be like the real mermaids?”
Van frowned at his niece as he swallowed a bite of sandwich. “Let’s just be clear, there are no such things as real mermaids.”
Both of his luncheon companions ignored that.
“Actually, Lily,” Cleo said, “mermaiding is mostly about learning to swim wearing a tail, and holding your breath a long time. Lots of other swimming techniques as well. Being a real mermaid takes hours and hours of practice, every day. It’s hard work.”
“Which reminds me, Uncle Van.” Lily wiped her fingers on her napkin, and gave her uncle an I-mean-business kind of look. “If I’m going to have Mermaid Cleo teach me, I’m going to need a tail of my own.”
Cleo breathed a soft victorious sigh of relief. She’d changed Lily’s mind, and she’d get to stay on at—whatever this place was called, and earn the promised salary.
Van didn’t look as relieved, and he turned a critical eye to Cleo. “You mean Mermaid Cleo didn’t bring you a tail?”
“I would have, but I didn’t have enough information. It wasn’t like I could bring one of every size for Lily to try on. We don’t have that many extras at Florida Adventures.”
“I suppose not.” They all ate in silence for a moment while Van considered the situation. “If Lily needs a tail to have mermaid lessons, I guess she needs a tail. How do you go about getting one of those? And how much is this going to cost me?”
Cleo dabbed her mouth with her napkin, before answering with an innocent smile. “That depends. Does Lily want a simple tail, or a fancy one?”
Chapter 8
Assured that Lily’s mermaid tail wouldn’t cost him more than the mermaid herself, Van finished his lunch, and left unnoticed—he assumed—while Lily and Cleo talked mer-wear. He smiled as he headed back to his home office. He had to hand it to himself: he’d hit the jackpot as far as birthday presents went. Distracting his young niece from her original goal of going to Florida, but still giving her exactly what she wanted ... what could be better? He could even read it on her pink little face. Lily was one happy double-digit midget.
But that wasn’t all that put the smile on Van Rivers’s face.
Mermaid Cleo. She was a surprise, that one. First seeing her in full costume, sitting in his library as if she were a real mermaid, just emerged from Lake Louise and come to call at Eagle Hill. She really was a vision. And no less surprisingly attractive sitting in his breakfast nook, oddly dressed for a summer day in white capris and a sweater the same color blue as her mermaid costume ... the same blue as those startling blue eyes of hers. Funny, they looked just as striking when she wasn’t wearing her mermaid eye makeup. He was certain he’d never seen that combination before, thick chestnut-colored hair with sky blue eyes.
Chestnut hair with blue streaks in it, he reminded himself. Unnaturally colored hair had never impressed him, not since his sister had first dyed her hair in high school, pink and bleach-blonde. And look where that had gotten her.
Mermaid Cleo said the highlights were part of her mermaid costume. It made sense, so he decided not to worry about it influencing Lily, for now. Besides, if Lily wanted to dye her hair, that was one battle she wasn’t going to win.
Something about this mermaid he’d hired lightened Van’s mood. Hers was a positive, healthy presence. Something about her manner spoke of openness, vigor, and wholesome fun—qualities that the Rivers family wasn’t exactly famous for. He hadn’t checked her out yet—so much for getting things done in a rush—but he’d get someone on that this afternoon. He had a feeling there weren’t going to be any skeletons in Mermaid Cleo’s closet, though. She looked squeaky clean.
Cleo Willey. He hadn’t gotten her full name when he chose her that day in Florida. In fact, he hadn’t even stayed around to meet her. He wished he had. But then, if he’d realized that she was so lovely and ... he couldn’t pin down a word for her. Fresh, maybe? Or refreshing. That’s how he felt after their lunch together. If he’d realized how refreshing and attractive she was, he might not have brought her to Eagle Hill. In fact, he was almost sure that he would have chosen someone else. As strangely light as he felt after spending time with her, he couldn’t afford the distraction.
He told himself that, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her, either. Not while he placed his conference call to his Toronto office after lunch, or went over the quarterly reports they sent him. When Mrs. Fortney brought him some fragrant herb tea midday, the spicy cinnamon made him think of Mermaid Cleo, somehow. Both warm and stimulating on a winter afternoon. When Mrs. F happened to mention that his niece and her mermaid were already heading to the pool for Lily’s first lesson, he signed off on the reports without his usual thorough read-through, and made his way over to watch.
The indoor swimming pool was a relatively new addition to Van’s ancestral home, constructed when he was ten, right after his sister was born. His parents wanted them to have a place to practice their swimming skills during the cold winter months—not that they were ever going to spend much time swimming in Lake Louise. Even on a hot summer day the water wasn’t far from freezing.
Van peeked in the large window on the pool entrance door, careful to stay as much out of sight as possible. Chlorine odors seeped into the hallway so strongly that he made a mental note to check with the pool custodian about the chemical levels. Once he saw the two figures in the water, though, all thoughts of estate business and to-do lists went right out of his mind.
Cleo wasn’t wearing her tail, or the shimmering blue swimsuit she’d worn with it earlier. Her current suit was utilitarian: a dark racing suit with matching cap on her head. Even in such a nondescript outfit, her hair out of sight and his observation spot in the doorway giving him a less-than-perfect view, Cleo sparkled. Not flashy, but bright in a warm way. Her natural beauty shone through her smiles and those blue, blue eyes. Her lithe, athletic build and golden tan gave her the look of a friendly Amazon.
They were already busy with lessons, he saw with satisfaction. While their words were muffled to him, Van watched as Cleo helped Lily practice holding her breath underwater. First, just by sitting at the bottom of the pool, but she was soon teaching Lily to dive down and touch the bottom, keeping her feet pointed together straight above her. It must not have been as easy as Cleo made it look, because even Lily, who was an accomplished swimmer, struggled to keep the pose.
In the time Van watched the lesson, he grew more impressed with Mermaid Cleo. Her enjoyment in teaching Lily appeared to be effortless and genuine. Lily, som
etimes impatient with herself to perfect a new skill, attempted each time with determination and a sense of fun—mirroring Cleo’s positive attitude. He clearly didn’t need to worry about how things were going to be between these two, so he really didn’t need to stay and watch. And yet, he didn’t want to leave.
How long had he engaged Cleo for? He couldn’t remember exactly. A month, maybe two. He’d been unsure what these mermaid lessons would entail, so he may have overestimated. Or underestimated. The idea that she would be staying on for at least several weeks interested him in ways he wouldn’t have expected.
The sound of approaching footsteps tore his gaze from the door. Who the blazes would that be? He thought of hurrying away so he wasn’t caught spying, but decided that in both his roles of uncle and employer he had every right to observe the lesson. Squaring his shoulders, he turned to face whoever was coming.
“Mr. Rivers? There you are. Mrs. Fortney said you might be here.” Leonard had been working for Van for only a few months, but he seemed to have made every nerve in Van’s jaw twitch at some point during that time. Intelligent, educated, fashionable Leonard seemed up for all the tasks of a well-qualified secretary. And yet ... there always seemed to be something that came up short.
“What is it, Leonard?” Van asked, irritated at the interruption. The younger man carried a tablet with him, but he joined Van at the window, taking in the pool in full view of Lily and Cleo, if they looked up. Van shifted uncomfortably, and casually stepped forward so it wasn’t so obvious he’d been hiding.
“Sweet pool,” Leonard said. “I’ve never been down here before. Do you swim often, Mr. Rivers?”
Van wasn’t in the mood for Leonard’s inane chitchat. “What do you want, Leonard?”
His assistant looked somewhat hurt, but managed to get back to his reason for seeking out Van. “I need more information on Miss Willey before I can have her checked out. Birthday, birthplace, full name, lots of other things. Do you want me to ask her, or do you want to do it?”
“Why would I—” Van half-growled, but stopped himself. Normally he wouldn’t bother collecting an employee’s information himself. He had better things to do. But maybe this time he’d make an exception. After all, this woman would be spending a great deal of time with Lily. Best if he got to know her better himself. “I’ll do it, Leonard.”
“All right, Mr. Rivers. Would you like the list of items we need to know? It’s pretty long, if you want a complete dossier.”
Van pulled his eyes from the two water sprites in his swimming pool, who were dissolving in laughter after Lily’s latest failed attempt to hold an upside-down pose. He raised a surprised eyebrow at his assistant. “A long list, you say? Leonard, I think you might be starting to make yourself useful around here. It’s about time.”
“I ... Um, thank you, Mr. Rivers.”
Chapter 9
It was still Lily’s birthday, and it surprised Cleo that the rich little girl wouldn’t have a lavish party with dozens of other ten-year-old girls, resplendent with ponies, a dance party, and maybe even a bouncy house (Cleo could distinctly remember her own dream birthday wishes at that age). She was happy for Lily when she learned there would still be a special celebration.
Cleo had spent so much of her day thus far helping Lily be happy with her mermaid lessons that she forgot to think much about just where it was in Canada that she’d been brought to. She knew it was Alberta, since she’d flown into the province’s largest city, Calgary. She couldn’t be too far north, she reasoned. The taxi ride from the airport wasn’t more than a couple of hours.
I’ll have to find some time to ask someone about it, she thought. And see about a Wi-Fi password. Mrs. Fortney, perhaps. Or Van.
Just the thought of Van Rivers made her smile. He was used to bossing people around, that much was clear. Liked to be in control. But when she turned the tables on him, teased him a little, he wasn’t too fierce. He didn’t bite. In fact, quite the opposite. Every time she looked his way at lunch, he was watching her. It thrilled her to think that somehow she put that quizzical look in his sharp dark eyes. In fact, she couldn’t think of a time when a man had interested her as much as her brief interactions with Van Rivers already had.
She’d washed and dried her hair, even though she’d kept it in the swimming cap during Lily’s lesson. Experience with chlorine had taught her how damaging it can be on hair, and as she spent plenty of time mermaiding with her tresses cascading through the water, she had to be very careful to wash even the smallest traces out quickly.
She dressed back in the outfit she’d worn at lunch, then unpacked her suitcases since she appeared to be staying on at the mansion.
Mansion? Or estate? Great house? Castle? She didn’t know how to refer to it. She really didn’t even know what the place looked like on the outside, when the dark night and deep snow weren’t obscuring its details. Something else to ask Van.
She wondered about this new employer of hers, and whether he spent much time at home. She’d planned to keep thoughts of how he made her feel in that box on a shelf, but it hadn’t even been a whole day and she had already taken it down and sneaked curious peeks.
When she and Lily were in the pool earlier, he’d come in unexpectedly. She’d been showing Lily how to hold her arms and body to keep an upside-down pose in the water. Suddenly her skin prickled, and she looked up to see him at the side of the pool. His stance—hands in pockets, one leg crooked to the side—had a strong, commanding quality. Maybe it was his height or even the cut of his clothes that gave her the impression, but instinct told her it was just him. In someone else, it might be staged, but she didn’t get that feeling with Van. A happy shiver ran through her, and when she smiled at him, it seemed to undo him a little. That thrill moved over her again, that he responded to her the way he did.
Cleo took a deep breath and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were bright, and her lips curved up in a smile. She hardly recognized the unbidden expression on her face.
“What do you think you’re playing at here, Cleo Willey?” she whispered to the excited stranger in the mirror. “Fantasize all you want, but nothing good will come of flirting with this wealthy Mr. Rivers. That’s not why you’re here.”
Her reflection didn’t appear to heed the warning.
A knock on the door startled her. Could it be Mrs. Fortney? Unlikely. The woman didn’t seem to understand boundaries, maybe because Cleo was an employee. So far, every time she’d entered Cleo’s room, she’d neglected to knock.
Cleo opened the door tentatively. A foot away, standing in the unlit hall, was Van Rivers. His dark eyes immediately locked on Cleo’s. Her heart leapt to her throat, but she couldn’t have said if it was because she was glad to see him, or wary that this man, still a stranger, had sought out her room.
He didn’t make a move to come in, but his expression was intense. “Sorry to bother you, Miss Willey.”
“Cleo,” she said, then wondered if that would sound like an invitation to come in. She kept her voice light, but to the point. “I was just about to come down and find Mrs. Fortney. I really don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing when I’m not working with Lily.”
“Of course. That’s something we need to discuss, and it’s part of why I’m here. I know it’s late notice, but did Lily tell you that we plan on celebrating her birthday tonight?”
Cleo breathed a small sigh of relief. Good, he spoke like an employer, not like a seducer. Still, those eyes ... “Yes, she did. Although, it sounded like she didn’t exactly know what the plans were.”
“No, I kept that a secret. The truth is, I’m taking her out to dinner, to her favorite place in town. After dinner, we’ll go ice skating on the lake.”
Cleo’s eyebrows raised in genuine interest, her concerns momentarily forgotten. “Lake? Is there a lake nearby?”
Van looked at her curiously before bursting into a loud laugh that both surprised Cleo and made her laugh in response.
&nb
sp; “Okay,” she said. “I’ve spilled the beans. The truth is, I have no idea where I am. Canada’s a big place.”
“And just when I thought a few hours ago that Leonard might be turning into a competent assistant. He didn’t tell you where you were going, then?”
“I don’t want to get him into trouble ...”
Van leaned against the doorframe, and her blood warmed at this very masculine man standing so casually there, almost in her room. She smirked, imagining how handy a fan would be about now to cool herself off.
“The only person getting Leonard into trouble is Leonard,” Van said, his eyes briefly resting on her mouth and making her heart skip a beat. “What all did he tell you about this position?”
“Um ... he said swimming lessons—”
“Swimming lessons!” It was an amused roar, at least, Cleo thought. “He told you that I was bringing you all the way from Florida to give Lily swimming lessons? I should be more surprised. I suppose you wondered why I needed a professional mermaid to teach my niece how to swim?”
“I confess, I thought there was probably a little more to it.” She smiled at him, and oh, there was that thrill again! Watching how just a smile from her made him react. Watch out, Cleo! You don’t know what to expect with him. “Should we go downstairs then, Mr. Rivers?”
His eyebrow rose. He’d picked up on her concerns, and it amused him. “Of course. I’m sorry if it bothers you I came to your room. This is meant to be your space, Cleo. And don’t think I came here expecting something inappropriate. You may be my mermaid, for now, but I’m a gentleman. You’re perfectly safe in this house.”
Oh, I don’t think so. “I’m sure I am, Mr. Rivers,” she said quickly. She opened the door and moved to leave, thankful that he stepped back to make way. “I don’t know you, but I know me.”
“Please, call me Van.”
“Yes, sorry. Van.” She closed the door and slipped past him, slow enough that he could catch up. She smiled when he did. “And I thought I was meant to be Lily’s mermaid. Am I yours, too?”
