Falling For Ken (Blueprint to Love Book 2)

by Giordano, Lauren

  "Think you could swing by tonight?" Fingers restless, he drummed the legal pad. "Great. I don't have my car back yet."

  ***

  Kendall held her breath when she pushed through Harry's door. She'd waited on the steps for what seemed like an eternity before working up the nerve to knock. When she'd tapped on the solid oak, it had swung inward. Hearing Harrison' reassuring voice, her stomach went liquid with nerves. What was she doing there? She was so damned far out of her league.

  Releasing a shuddering breath, she steadied herself. No matter how confusing her words might seem . . . she had to tell Harrison how she felt. Waiting for her pulse to stop galloping before making her presence known, she concentrated on his voice, on the husky timbre that sent her heartbeat through the roof every time he spoke. He was on the phone.

  With Deborah.

  Clapping a hand to her mouth to catch the gasp of betrayal, Ken prayed he hadn't heard the sound. Pain sliced through her heart as she overheard him ask her to come over. Thirty minutes earlier, he'd asked her to stay. Now, Deborah would spend the night– a far superior substitute. Staggering back against the door, the varnished oak blurred in humiliated tears.

  Crossing the parking lot at a run, she fumbled with her keys before shoving them in the ignition. "Please, God– don't let him look out the window." Her prayer was fervent as she gulped in air, blindly wiping her eyes on her sleeve. She repeated the mantra as she pulled out of the parking space, slowly regaining control as humiliation dissolved to anguish. Please don't let him see he'd hurt her.

  She drove through the night, her heart burning where his arrow had slashed an indelible mark. Her eyes eventually dried, leaving a bleak, red-rimmed reminder of her foolishness when she glanced in the rearview mirror.

  ***

  "You okay? You don't look so hot this morning." Frowning, Jimmy shoved a cup of black coffee into her hands, hovering over her like a concerned father.

  "My business went up in flames two days ago. How is that supposed to look?" Lifting her head from the desk where she'd sat for the past two hours, Kendall scanned the room, her eyes gritty with fatigue. "This is it . . . this trailer's all we have left. I'm meeting with the arson investigator in an hour. The way our checking account looks, I'm probably gonna have to let most of the guys go end of the week."

  "Kenny– let them decide. Everyone knows what happened. The boys– they all wanna help. Where's Claire?"

  "Hasn't shown up yet. Most people don't work for no pay." Ken sighed. "I can't let the crew work when I might not be able to pay them. Truth is, I don't know how much money is left. With all the records gone-" Dragging in a ragged breath, she fought the burn of tears. "I'm meeting with the bank later today to see if they can help me recreate some of the records."

  Jimmy placed his beefy arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "Some of us can stick it out longer than others. And we ain't leavin' until you don't have this trailer anymore. We're in this for the long haul."

  She offered him a watery smile. "You might regret that decision." His eyes appraised her long and hard– as though he had something to say but was holding back. "What's bothering you, Pop?"

  "What about the other thing?"

  "Other thing? Isn't it enough we're bankrupt? That I nearly burned up in a fireball? That Lance might be an arsonist?"

  "There's nothin' bad about him possibly ending up in jail," he admitted. "What about the guy? Where's Traynor?"

  The unease that had strummed through Ken all night returned with a wallop. Unable to hold his knowing gaze, she glanced out the window to the bustling site. Even she could've been fooled by the symphony of construction noise outside her window. Production was at full force. For now.

  "He's gone. Left yesterday."

  "Uh-huh. Didn't I tell you not to get involved with him?"

  "I'm fine."

  "Don't give me that." Rising from his chair, Jimmy crossed the room. She was encased in his beefy arms a moment later, her nose pressed to his chest. He smelled faintly of cologne, dust and cigar. Despite her misery, she couldn't help smiling.

  "Dammit, Kenny– I warned you. Guys like him-"

  "I'll be okay." A flicker of warmth lit the cold, aching spot in her chest for the one man in her life who'd never hurt her. Jimmy was angry. With her, for being stupid. And with Harrison–for hurting her. In all the years she'd known him, Pop had never told her he thought of her as his very own daughter. He'd never said he loved her. But she'd always known the truth. She came first with him– even before his friendship with her dad. Jimmy had protected her.

  Ken gave him a friendly squeeze. "Don't be angry, Pop. At least not today."

  The burly foreman wasn't easily placated. "He better not show his damn prettyboy face around here or I'll take a shovel to it." His body stiffened when she chuckled. "You think I'm kidding? Woody wants to rip his arms off and plant them in the first concrete pour."

  Kendall froze. "Woody knows?"

  "Honey . . . everyone knows."

  Could this day get any worse? "The boys'll think I'm pathetic."

  "Hey– they answer to me." Tweaking her chin, Jimmy forced a smile that looked more like a snarl before heading for the door. "The way I feel, I wouldn't mind crackin' a few skulls today."

  Chapter 10

  Tossing his phone to the desk, Harry sighed. Three days of trying not to think about Kendall. He'd lost track of how often he'd called. She still wasn't answering. At least not for him. But he was tired of being ignored. Annoyed, his lips twitched over the unfamiliar feeling. Whether Kenny was ready or not, this time he'd play to win. First, he would kiss her senseless . . . watch the way her gaze would soften when he finally won her over. He'd dreamed of those molten eyes– how they glazed with passion when he touched her . . . shimmering like burnished gold when he was inside her. When he'd managed to sleep at all, his dreams had been laden with images of her.

  At least she was safe. The security company he'd hired provided daily reports. When Kendall wasn't at work, she was digging in her garden or playing the violin on her deck. His forehead creased in thought over the information. How many instruments did she play? How many more secrets did she hold? His pulse quickened with anticipation. How long before he learned them all? Armed with the information Charlie had dug up on Lance, he'd asked the guards to stay a few more days. Until he could get back out there, he wanted someone watching her every minute. With any luck, it would be today.

  It had taken a day to clear his desk of problems that had accumulated during his absence. But Specialty's accounting department ran like a well-oiled machine. Three days earlier, it had taken under an hour to speak with Deborah. She hadn't been upset by the news that he'd met someone . . . only shocked that 'someone like him' could move so fast. Her remark inferred he wasn't thinking clearly. It hinted at a lack of control that just plain didn't exist. Relationship-wise, Harry was in the driver's seat . . . and he intended to stay there.

  Deb liked him enough to wish him well. She also appreciated Specialty's billable hours and the resulting connections she gained by being associated with the array of Traynor businesses.

  Checking his watch, he rose from his desk. In five minutes, the partners would meet. Once he'd explained the situation to Jeff and the newlywed, Harry planned to head back out to the site. Aware of his need to justify it– Harry frowned. It wasn't just for Kendall. Specialty had a vested interest in making sure Charlie's plan went off without a hitch. And the only thing that could go wrong with a foolproof plan was a woman hell-bent on proving something. In this case, a feisty, hard-as-nails woman who was seriously ticked off. At him.

  ***

  "So . . . we'd be part of a state police sting operation? Tell me again why we need to get involved?"

  "Jake . . . the honeymoon's over. Try to focus."

  "Even I get it," Jeff interrupted. "And I'm supposedly the one who never pays attention."

  Jake blinked at that truth and sat back in his chair, a reluctant smile twitching his
lips. "Okay, hotshot. Explain why the hell we need to go to all this trouble when we could just pull their bond and get another contractor out there to finish."

  "Haven't you been listening? Harry's got the hots for Ken Adams."

  Jake's head shot up, the infamous laser beam eyes zeroed in on him. "She's not your usual type."

  "No– yes. . . I mean, no." Harry tried not to take offense when his cousins cracked up.

  "Jake– did you babble like this when you fell for Jen?" Jeff's grin was smug.

  "Can we please focus?" He expelled a breath of frustration. They were wasting valuable time. "How I feel about Kendall is irrelevant. My loyalty is with you guys– lord knows why." Feeling Jake's gaze on him, Harry reined in his impatience. They had to be united before Charlie could move forward.

  "Give us time to absorb this, Hoss," Jake answered. "I'm accustomed to you thinking with the head that's . . . attached to your shoulders."

  Jeff's eyes held curiosity. "What happened with the skinny lawyer?"

  "This from the guy who's elevated the one night stand to an art form?" His cousin's exploits were legend around Specialty.

  "What can I say? Chicks dig me." Jeff joined in the laughter at the table.

  Jake glanced at his watch. "I'm taking off a little early for Megan's first softball game." His gaze shifted to his brother. "Lay off Harry. Let him explain."

  Finally. "This plan protects Specialty. It will be quicker and easier than pulling the bond."

  "How do you figure?"

  "Because the schedule's tight. You lose even a couple weeks and we risk being late on the whole project. If we pull Kendall's bond, we shut down the job. There's no telling how much escalation we'll pay to get another sub out there to finish," he explained. "Plan on double what we're paying A & R. Add that to the shutdown time and the time we'll spend negotiating with the bonding company and you're looking at a minimum eight week delay. Probably more like ten or twelve."

  Jeff nodded in agreement. "He's right. Everyone's busy with other digs. They don't need our work– not a rush job like this." His faraway expression indicated the wheels were finally turning. "Why don't we just bring 'em all on our payroll?"

  "Yeah," Jake agreed. "Why would we want to buy A & R?"

  "That's where Charlie comes in. His taskforce has been investigating an equipment theft ring for months."

  "Tools and equipment walk off the jobsite all the time," Jake interrupted. "They'll never be able to stop it, not with the number of people on site each day."

  "Jake– this is different. They're highly organized. They travel to big construction projects and steal the expensive stuff," Harry explained. "Then it's resold overseas. Charlie says they've stolen close to thirty million bucks in heavy equipment . . . and that's only what he's tracking here in the Southeast. I did some checking here. Donna told me we've filed eight claims for equipment theft this year . . . and it's only June. She said our insurance rates tripled last year."

  Jeff whistled. "Not a bad way to make a living."

  "Insurance companies are funding investigations all over the country. Manpower and cash. Most of the big carriers have paid out millions in claims. The taskforce thinks the operation is centered in south Florida– easy access to ports . . . miles of unguarded coastline. The equipment moves through the Bahamas and then to Mexico to fudge the serial numbers. From there it gets distributed all over the world."

  "So– how do we figure in this?" Jake interrupted.

  "Charlie thinks Kendall's step-brother is involved with the thefts.

  Jake leaned forward in his chair, his interest whetted. "Why?"

  "Timing. Barker's been here six months," he answered. "The taskforce has retraced Barker's movement since he left Florida." Fingers restless, he drummed the table. "Shortly after he arrived, equipment began disappearing from sites. The insurance carriers indicate a thirty-seven percent spike in mid-Atlantic claims for the last six months." He tugged a thick file from his folder. "Hell, Kendall's had four claims from our project alone. She thinks its bad luck."

  "I'm failing to see the connection between Charlie's investigation and us having to buy a site contractor." Jake stopped scribbling. "Why are we part of this?"

  "We're involved either way." Harry reigned in his frustration. He couldn't help Ken without his cousins on board. "Charlie's theory on the fire is that Barker's getting desperate. His sources say Lance ticked off the guy in charge. Apparently, embezzling from Kendall wasn't in the master plan. A & R should have been perfect cover for him."

  "But his greed got in the way," Jake concluded.

  Harry nodded. "Don't forget, Barker needed a reason for being in Virginia. Instead, he used it as an opportunity to double the score."

  "So– you think he's in trouble for stealing too much?" Jeff stopped drumming his pencil.

  "If you were the mastermind of a hundred million dollar scam. . . would you risk blowing your cover for the few hundred grand you could siphon from a small business–especially if that business served a vital function to the operation."

  Jake released a low whistle. "People get killed for less."

  "From what I've seen, Barker's not the brain behind the operation. A & R was a cash cow for him, but he's bled it dry."

  "You know this how?"

  "I've analyzed A & R's financials. Initially, I was tracing the problems on our project, but it wasn't hard to see what Lance is doing. Old fashioned embezzlement . . . nothing fancy."

  Jake tossed his pencil on the table. "So– Barker's blown his cover. . . he's got the feds breathing down his neck and he's exposed a hundred million dollar operation that until recently, was running smoothly. If I were his boss, I'd be pretty pissed."

  "The embezzlement might have been fixable, but nearly killing two people in a fire-"

  "He's out of free passes," Jeff concluded.

  "That's where Specialty comes in. Charlie needs a legitimate company to make an offer for A & R. The taskforce can set up a dummy company– but it'll take several weeks. And since the fire . . . Lance doesn't have much time left."

  "Got it so far."

  "The taskforce wants Barker before his own organization gets him first. Charlie wants to grab him in a quick sting, then offer immunity if he rolls over on the head of the operation. Charlie's asking us for a favor. We're here– already established. It wouldn't take any time for our lawyers to draw up papers that look legitimate."

  "What does that accomplish?"

  "It flushes out Barker," he answered. "With an easy score dangling in front of him, the logic is he'll try something stupid– like forge Kendall's signature on the sale papers."

  "So– they don't nail him on the equipment thing?"

  That had been one of his questions, too. "I'm not sure how it works. Charlie says they use one charge as leverage on the bigger score."

  The particle accelerator in his brain already firing, Jake gazed at a spot on the conference room wall. Familiar with the expression, Harry waited him out. "So– we buy A & R– on paper? Charlie arrests Barker. Kendall gets her money back– and we finally go back to digging the damn job?"

  Jackson Traynor wouldn't be talked into anything. Either he agreed with a plan and threw his full support behind it, or he declined and didn't spare the matter another moment's thought. Jake was the final say on all business matters, ultimately responsible for the entire company. Harry respected his caution. "Due to the size of their losses, the insurance fund has agreed to replace Ken's embezzled funds until her carrier steps in with a settlement. Ken stays in business. We tear up the fake buy-out agreement and the project gets back to normal."

  "What do we get out of this?" Jake finally asked.

  Harry didn't bother sugarcoating the truth. "Not much. Charlie makes a splashy arrest. We complete the project with only the normal amount of aggravation." Loosening his tie, he tugged it free, the first indication he was feeling any stress. He ignored Jeff's smirk. "The alternative is probably worse. Charlie is convinced Lance
is a key suspect. That means the taskforce will be at the site, getting in everyone's way. We can cooperate and end it quickly– or we can watch them disrupt the entire project. If that happens and A & R can't finish . . . we still lose. Pulling the bond virtually guarantees we'll miss the completion deadline."

  "What's your take on Barker?"

  "I think he's a pretty good thief. That's why Kendall's in such bad shape. Without the embezzling, she'd be solvent."

  "Does Ken know any of this?" Leaning back in his chair, Jeff stretched.

  "She's– not taking my calls." Harry waited for the eruption of laughter to subside. "She knows Lance is a huge problem, but it hasn't occurred to her he's stealing– at least not to this extent."

  "Why doesn't Charlie just nail Barker on the embezzling charge?"

  Harry's smile faded. "Because busting up a nationwide theft ring would be a gigantic score for the state police. Charlie's getting heat from his higher ups. And they're being pressured by the insurance companies. They want a big splashy arrest– to scare off other gangs with the same idea. That's why the taskforce won't go away."

  "How much of this are you going to tell Kendall?"

  His face heating, he jerked a hand through his hair, ignoring the warning in the pit of his stomach. "As little as possible. Charlie doesn't want to scare off Barker. He thinks if Ken knows too much she might start acting different."

  "Is Barker dangerous?" Jake returned to the conversation, an indication he'd made his decision.

  "He has a criminal record in four states. Charlie thinks the pattern and his timing fit just a little too well. And maybe. . ."

  Harry swallowed around the lump of uncertainty. It felt wrong to voice his suspicion– even to the men he considered brothers. Worse, it felt disloyal to Kenny.

  "Maybe what?" Jeff stopped tapping his pencil and tucked it behind his ear.

  "I'm beginning to suspect her old man might be involved, too."

  ***

  Harry was performing an illegal act and it felt damn good. Worst case, if he got pulled for driving with a casted foot, he'd namedrop Charlie's name. A shade past noon, the day was finally falling into place. After more grilling from his cousins, he'd received the go-ahead to proceed with the fake purchase of A & R. Thirty minutes of finagling and he'd cajoled Deborah to begin drafting the documents Charlie needed. Another hour to drive home, pack a bag and hit the road.