The Billionaire's Mermaid

by Amberlee Day

  “Where is Mrs. Fortney?” he asked.

  “Gus took her into town for groceries,” Reva said. “They’ll be back soon.”

  “Okay.” Van took a bite of his bell pepper while he thought. “And where are Kristen and Kirsten? The regular kitchen help?”

  “Mrs. Fortney gave them a couple of days off,” Loren said. “She said that with Mr. Rivers—with you home a lot recently, they’ve been working every day. So since we were here ...” He shrugged. “I think she said Kristen went to visit her boyfriend, and Kirsten headed to Alberta for a few days.”

  “No, Kristen went to Alberta,” Reva said in her almost monotone voice. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly in a smile, and Van’s distrust softened just a tad at the round, sweet face.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’m not sure how you two came to be here, though. Mrs. Fortney didn’t mention it yesterday.”

  “We arrived last night,” Reva said. “Gus brought us.”

  “Mrs. Fortney is my aunt,” Loren explained. “Auntie Jess. We were just passing through, but she asked us to stay awhile, help out. It worked for us, and gives us a chance to earn a little cash on our way to Alaska.”

  “Where in Alaska?” Van was still trying to understand what brought these two to the Eagle Hill kitchen. He had a strict policy with his employees. He never hired rough-looking people. Tattoos and crazy hair colors were big red flags with him. That’s probably why Mrs. Fortney had snuck them in without telling him first.

  “Sitka,” Loren said. “Sitka’s home, pretty much. Some friends are getting married.”

  “Nice.” Van took another bite of pepper, thinking. “Are you ... trained? As cooks, I mean?”

  “Oh, sure,” Loren said. “I could give you a résumé, but maybe a taste would be better.”

  Reva had silently moved to another part of the kitchen, and now appeared at Van’s elbow, holding a steaming bowl with just a scoopful of something black and lumpy in it.

  “What’s this?” Van asked.

  “Black bean soup,” she said. “Try it. It’s good.”

  Normally Van would have been battling his temper faced with a surprise like this, stumbling onto two strangers in his house, but not today. Maybe it was how warm and laid-back this Loren and Reva seemed, or maybe it was part of the Cleo effect, but Van took the bowl, and sampled the soup.

  Garlic and onion deliciousness melted on his tongue, and the beans were tender bites. Van looked at the odd couple in surprise. “This is delicious,” he said. “Which one of you made it?”

  “Reva did,” Loren said. “I’m dressing a turkey breast for dinner right now. The soup is actually for tomorrow, along with Monte Cristo sandwiches.”

  “Soup is best the second day,” Reva said. That small smile of hers widened watching Van enjoy her soup. “It’s good.”

  “So good.” Van raised an eyebrow with a teasing look, hoping to repair any offense he might have given these two. “Do I really have to wait until tomorrow to eat more?”

  “You’ll like the turkey, too,” Reva said. “Loren’s good with spices.”

  “And nobody does soup like Reva. I keep telling her she needs to write a cookbook.”

  “Are you going to?” Van asked, stalling to think how he could talk her into another serving right now. “Soup like that, it would be criminal to keep it from the world.”

  “I can’t,” was her simple reply.

  “Why not?”

  “Reva never writes her recipes down,” Loren said over his shoulder, his attention stolen by a large pot on the stovetop. He stirred whatever was inside, and sniffed the steam. “She makes them all by memory.”

  “Amazing,” Van said. “I don’t suppose ...”

  Reva took his bowl, and walked away to the sink. “Lunch is at noon,” she said. “Loren is making homemade chicken nuggets. Your niece will like them, and you will too. They’re good.”

  Both the newcomers had returned to their kitchen tasks without another word, leaving Van feeling obsolete.

  “Wonderful,” he said, backing up to make his exit. “I’ll leave you both to it, then.” When neither looked up, he left the room, murmuring, “Carry on.”

  Pausing in the hall, Van scratched his chin. He’d have to talk to Mrs. F about Reva and Loren when she returned.

  If they’re only going to be here for a couple of days, he thought, we may have to invite them back.

  VAN FOUND LILY AND Cleo upstairs in the north wing, in Lily’s room. They looked happy, and he went in extra cheerfully, so they wouldn’t think he was there to criticize.

  “Uncle Van!” Lily jumped up from where she and Cleo sat on her double bed, and pulled him into the room to join them. “Sit down. We aren’t ready to make our bid yet, but the plans are looking great.”

  Van sat down where Lily led him, on the edge of the bed. A deep satisfaction came when he caught Cleo’s eye. Her smile reached right up through her blue irises.

  “Hi,” she said. “You’ve come at a good time. Lily has made real progress on her remodel ideas.”

  “I bet,” he said. “This isn’t going to involve painting, is it? Winters here are a terrible time to paint. The fumes are killer, and you can’t open the windows to air things out.”

  “No paint,” his niece said. “Think vinyl cutouts, and sheer wall hangings.”

  “Wall hangings?”

  Lily waved her arms up one wall, hanging imaginary fabric. “Pink sheers, strung here, and here, and here.” She ran from one end of the room to another, demonstrating.

  “That sounds ...” Van looked at Cleo for help, but she only nodded encouragement. “... pink. It sounds very pink.”

  “That’s the point,” Lily said.

  “Then point accomplished.”

  “And white fairy lights,” she added. “Instead of those lamps, just fairy lights.”

  Cleo pointed to a tablet lying on Lily’s bed. “What about these lamps you like? We could use the ones you have, and just change out the shades. Good for reading.”

  Lily shrugged. “Sure, that works. And see, Uncle Van, this is my Pinterest board.”

  “Pinterest board?”

  “Oh, yes. You have to have a Pinterest board for a project like this,” Lily said.

  “It’s true,” Cleo confirmed. “See? It’s called Lily’s Pink Grotto.”

  Van was starting to think he didn’t want to know quite this much about the remodel, especially as Lily went on to show him wall decals, a new bedspread, a beaded curtain for the doorway, an ocean wave projector ...

  Van put up a hand to stop Lily. “Hold on. What’s an ocean wave projector?”

  “It’s a light that makes the walls and ceiling look like you’re underwater. You’ll love it.”

  “I bet.” Van rubbed his forehead. “Sounds like you two are having fun.”

  “We’re doing a craft, too,” Cleo said, scrolling down on the Lily’s Pink Grotto page. “Here. We’re going to reupholster the chair over there in this pink mermaid scale fabric. What do you think?”

  “I think ... that’s a lot of pink, ladies. Sounds like exactly what you wanted, Lily.”

  “It is.” To Van’s surprise, Lily threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Uncle Van. For letting me remake my room, and for bringing Cleo home for me.”

  Van hugged Lily back, but his eyes found Cleo’s. “It’s my pleasure, Lily Bean. I’m glad this is working out.”

  Lily let go, but jumped up on the bed. Her expression and tone became serious. “Did you know that Cleo has never had a real bedroom before?”

  Cleo rolled her eyes. “I don’t think your uncle wants to hear about that, Lily.”

  “Sure I do,” Van said. “What does that mean, you’ve never had a real bedroom?”

  Before Cleo could answer, Lily took over. “It’s because she lived on a boat. There aren’t really bedrooms on a boat, just—what’s that part called? Where your grandfather slept?”

  “He slept in a private berth, at the
bow. My berth was really a couch.”

  “Like a pullout?” Van asked. “I don’t know much about boats.”

  “No, it didn’t pull out. It was just a foam pad, about eighteen inches wide and six feet long.”

  “So weird,” Lily said in her most serious voice.

  “It was a different way to grow up than you’re used to,” Cleo said. “I didn’t know anything else, so it was normal to me. And most of my friends were boat kids, so they had similar setups.”

  “Weird.”

  Cleo laughed. “What felt weird was when I was about eight, and I went to a friend’s house one day. She took me into her kitchen, and I said, ‘Wow, you have a huge galley!’”

  Van laughed. “I bet that was confusing. But you probably had a television, so you knew what actual houses looked like.”

  “We did, but I wasn’t allowed to watch any TV shows. I did know what regular houses looked like from my grandma’s old movies, I just didn’t think people really lived in places like that. We didn’t even watch a lot of movies, though. Grandpa thought TVs were zombie makers.”

  “That’s awful!” Lily said.

  “It’s true,” Van said. “Too much TV does turn you into a zombie. That’s why you have a screen limit, Lily Bean.”

  “A limit, yes,” Lily said, “but no television? At least you had Netflix and Hulu, right, Cleo?”

  Van and Cleo’s eyes met, silent laughter passing between them. No, they wouldn’t share the horrors of life without constant entertainment with Lily just yet. She already had a lot to process.

  “How about once you left the boat?” Van asked. “No room of your own, then?”

  “Shared dorm rooms, for just a few months at a time. My last place was a three-bedroom condo I shared with five other girls.”

  “Five!” Lily looked horrified again, and Van felt about the same way.

  “That must have been terribly crowded,” he said. “Why not get a spot of your own?”

  Cleo shrugged. “Trying to save money. Besides, rent in Tampa can get expensive.”

  Cleo must have become uncomfortable with the silence that followed, because she suddenly said, “Isn’t it almost time for lunch?”

  A voice in the doorway agreed with her. “It is,” Mrs. Fortney said. “I was just coming to round everyone up.”

  “We’ll be right there.” Lily pulled Cleo back to the tablet for one last thought on the Pink Grotto plans. Van moved on to the hallway with Mrs. Fortney, who looked nervous, but determined to hold her ground.

  “I would have told you about Loren and Reva,” she said, “but I was waiting until after lunch.”

  “Mm-hm. So I could taste their cooking first, I suppose?” He folded his arms, and did his best to look stern.

  “That’s exactly it. I think you’ll find that they’re highly qualified, talented chefs.”

  “Hm.”

  “I know how you feel about tattoos, and wild looks ... but they don’t need to be around Lily at all. She doesn’t even need to know they’re here.”

  Just then, Lily bounced into the hallway, pulling her mermaid with her. “Hi, Mrs. Fortney. I wanted to ask you, do you think Cleo and I could use the kitchen tomorrow? After lunch? Cleo’s never made snickerdoodles before, and I wanted to show her how.”

  Both Lily and Cleo looked at the housekeeper expectantly, and poor Mrs. Fortney looked like she didn’t know what to say.

  Van leaned back, and laughed heartily. “Yes, Lily. You and Cleo can make cookies. Mrs. Fortney’s nephew and his friend—”

  “His wife,” Mrs. Fortney corrected with feeling.

  “Their names are Reva and Loren,” Van continued, “and as long as you don’t get in the way of their amazing cooking, it’s fine.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Van. Thank you, Mrs. Fortney,” Lily said, skipping down the hallway toward the kitchen. Mrs. Fortney gave Van a relieved smile and an assenting nod, and headed down the hall as well.

  Van held out his arm to the lovely Cleo at his side, determined to show her he could be a gentleman. “Shall we?”

  Chapter 15

  “Hey, Uncle Van! Come with us. We’re going to watch an Easter Williams movie.”

  Cleo’s heart did a little flip-flop hearing Lily call Van’s name, and she spun around quickly to see him. Too quickly; she spilled some popcorn from the large bowl she carried. “Whoops!”

  She knelt down to clean it up, but Van’s Great Dane appeared out of nowhere and gobbled it down with an enormous tongue.

  “Oh my!” she said. “I don’t think I’ve seen Samson move, except for once ...” Her eyes met Van’s, remembering that first day in her mermaid costume. “... in the library.”

  “I just took him out for a walk,” Van said. “There are some things he can’t do from his spot in front of the fireplace.”

  Cleo nodded, watching Samson trot past toward the library, having done a thorough job cleaning the floor. “Gotcha.”

  “What’s this about an Easter movie?” Van asked. “I’m pretty sure Easter’s still a couple of months away.”

  “Not Easter,” Cleo said, smiling at Lily. “Esther.”

  “Esther,” Lily repeated.

  “Esther Williams was a movie star from the 1940s and ’50s,” Cleo explained.

  “So this is an old movie?” Van didn’t sound too excited.

  “It is. Esther Williams was known as both an actress and an amazing swimmer. She was called the Million Dollar Mermaid.”

  “She swam like a mermaid in some of her movies,” Lily told Van. “We’re going to watch one. Do you want to come?”

  Van raised an eyebrow. “Do I get some of that popcorn?”

  “Sure, we made enough.” Lily turned to head down the hall.

  “Hold on,” Van said. “Where are you watching this movie?”

  “The laptop and projector in the school room,” Lily said.

  Cleo added, “I found it online, so we’re streaming it.”

  Van took the popcorn bowl from Cleo’s hands, and turned in the opposite direction, down the wide front staircase. “Come this way, ladies,” he said. “I think I can do us one better than the school room for your movie.”

  CLEO LEANED BACK IN the plush red velvet seat, one of several dozen in Van’s home movie theater. Up front, the tall curtains were pulled back, and the screen showed Van’s online progress in locating the movie for streaming.

  “This is amazing,” Cleo said. She leaned back farther, and a footrest popped up. “Why don’t you use this more often? I think I’d be tempted to watch movies every night.”

  “I thought television makes you a zombie.” Van’s brow was furrowed as he navigated the website.

  Cleo muttered under her breath, “Blah, blah, blah ... television makes you a zombie.”

  Van looked up. “What?”

  “Nothing.” She smiled back brightly. “It’s just that I do love to watch a good movie, and yes, I could easily watch one every night. Maybe it’s because we didn’t have TV growing up.”

  “Hm,” Van said. “There, I think I’ve got it.”

  Lily returned from her bathroom run. “I’m ready, let’s go!”

  The movie was actually called Million Dollar Mermaid, and when Lily saw the big musical water number, she was hooked. “I want to do that!” she said.

  “What, that?” Cleo asked. “That’s synchronized swimming.”

  “Can you teach me?”

  “Sure, if you want.”

  “I don’t know,” Van said, teasing. “Maybe you’d better think about it, Lily. There’s no tail involved, so it isn’t really a mermaid thing.”

  Lily ignored that. “Let’s start tomorrow,” she said, settling back into her seat to watch the rest of the show.

  Van passed the popcorn bowl to Cleo. He looked like the cat that caught the canary. “Looks like I have a little athlete on my hands after all,” he said.

  “Why, Mr. Rivers,” Cleo said, taking a handful of popcorn. “I don’t know what you coul
d mean. It’s just mermaiding without the tail, after all.”

  Van chuckled, and that thrill ran through Cleo. If Lily did want synchro lessons, that definitely meant Cleo would be staying at Eagle Hill a while longer. Basking in the looks Van had been giving her all evening, she didn’t mind that idea. Not one bit.

  THE MUDROOM WHERE CLEO entered the house when she arrived that first winter night consisted of a large sink, coat and shoe racks, and a bathroom with a shower. She discovered Lily and Van here a few days after their movie night, attempting to bathe Samson.

  “Here you are,” she said. “I spent the last half hour looking for you.”

  “We’ve been right here.” Van’s words were strained from exertion. “Sorry you had to spend time looking.”

  “Even if I’d known where you were, I didn’t know where I was half the time,” Cleo said.

  “Are you still getting lost?” Lily asked.

  “Maybe.” Cleo’s pretend embarrassed face made Lily laugh.

  “Might want to stay back,” Van said from where he knelt next to the shower, rubbing the old dog down with a sudsy brush. “Old Sam’s famous for shaking enough water off of him to soak a ten-foot radius.”

  Lily stood behind him, holding up a towel in case shaking commenced. “Do you want to help, Cleo? Uncle Van is almost ready to rinse, and then we need to dry him really quick.”

  “Dry who?” Cleo asked, feigning innocence. “Samson, or your uncle?”

  “Ha, ha.” Indeed, Van would need to be dried off as well. The entire front of his shirt and pants were drenched.

  Grabbing the nozzle, he quickly rinsed the giant dog. Samson started to shake a couple of times, but stopped as the water continued to flow over him. Van was just finishing up when Sam’s back half finally wound up for a big, unstoppable shake.

  “Here she blows!” Van called in time for Cleo to grab a towel and help Lily absorb the flying water.

  It wasn’t enough. When she could free one of her hands, Cleo wiped water from her eyes. “I guess the fact that I could see Samson should have told me that water could reach me.”

  “I told you we needed to be quick,” Lily said. She’d been clever enough to duck behind her towel as she went in to cover him. “Here, hold this one in place, and I’ll grab another towel.”