Signed, SEALed, Delivered (Trident Brotherhood Book 1)

by Cayce Poponea

  To: Michaels. Zach, L.T.

  From: CupCakeCutie

  CC:

  Subject: I'm brilliant!

  Zach,

  I did get in contact with my realtor friend, Diane. She just got a listing for an existing tattoo shop. She faxed me the details and it sounded really good on paper. She did tell me she had a guy coming to look at it, so since she was going to be there anyway I made an appointment.

  When I got there, the guy was just pulling up. He was so handsome, I nearly fell out of my car, except a really pretty girl got out of the passenger seat. He walked over to where Diane and I were standing and introduced himself. I was so enamored with him I couldn't look away. He introduced himself and the girl. I wanted to hate her, but when she shook my hand, she was so nice and polite. Thank God the girl turned out to be his sister, not his wife or girlfriend. Diane let us both have a look at the building and I have to tell you it's perfect. It has everything you need. The guy is selling everything—equipment, chairs, ink, you name it. I told Diane we were definitely interested, but she had to see if the other guy wanted it since he responded first. Diane gave him twenty-four hours to decide what he wants.

  But the best part is, I got his number and we're having dinner tomorrow night. Now, before you wig out about me falling in love with him and getting hurt, Zane already had him checked out and Jason Forrester is an honorable man. Mom says she knows his mother from one of her charities, and dad has met his father for a business matter. So you can breathe and just worry about getting this building.

  Love you!

  Savannah

  The similarities were too great to ignore. The burning in my gut was much more than the side effect of my recent dose of medication. Could our lives be that intertwined? Could Savannah’s Jason and Kennedy's brother be the same person?

  "Lieutenant!" My rank being shouted caused me to automatically look away from my email to Savannah.

  "Don't waste your time trying to send out an email, we’re now in River City."

  My answer was automatic and edged, "Who died?" With modern technology comes great benefits, and even greater challenges. A few years ago, a fallen soldier's family discovered his death by a message found on his Facebook page. Since then, an automatic shutdown of all communication happened until the family was notified.

  “A new boot, Correra.” Sadly I knew the name, the young man Reaper had messed with as we waited for the medical convoy to arrive. He had been cocky, stomping off when Reaper tried to help him grow thicker skin.

  You never had to question when communication was restored, the common areas emptied out and the noise levels were near zero. I knew if I tried to log onto my computer, it would take forever to get enough bandwidth to open my email. Talking to my sister was worth the amount of money it would cost for me to call her. Doing a quick calculation of the time back home, I pulled out my cell and dialed the number that could set my mind at ease.

  "Hello?" Her voice was slightly broken up by laughter, but the delight in her voice caused me to smile along with her.

  "Savannah? It's your brother."

  "Oh, my God, Zach!" Her excitement increased tenfold, the octave in her voice rose to painful levels in typical Savannah fashion, and she began to babble about what was going on around her.

  "Do you know what happened? Of course you don't know, you're in another country. Well, let me tell you!" She emphasized each word as her jubilance grew. "I tried to send you an email, but it came back with that crazy message. You know, the one when they turn off your Internet? Anyway, I went ahead and had a meeting with Diane, who told me Jason..." It didn't go unnoticed the way she said his name. Something was going on there. "...Wanted the shop, but was only interested in renting because his father found out he doesn't want to be an attorney and has cut him off. Thank God for his little sister. Oh, you would just love his sister, Kennedy, she’s so pretty and she just graduated, but her mother is being so silly by not letting her ride her horse. Can you believe that, Zach? Not letting her ride her own horse!”

  Savannah was the type of person to get excited over a dental exam. When she was little, mom was concerned she had some sort of mental condition, so she insisted my father take her to a neurologist. My father tried explaining nothing was wrong with her mentally, she was thinking so quickly her mouth couldn't keep up. The pediatric neurologist confirmed what my father had said, and emphasized to my mother to let Savannah get her words out and not to encourage her to slow down. Over the years I have gotten used to the speed in which she does everything, I sit back and absorb.

  "You got me that scarf, the one Lauren spilled her drink on. Oh, wasn't that a day! I had to leave the party and have daddy drive me because the stupid cow got her drink on my key fob and it wouldn't start my car.” Her ability to branch off her main subject was rather annoying, but completely a part of who she is.

  "But the guy at the dealership got me a new one and then Zane got my car. Oh, I'm sorry Zach; we were talking about Ms. Diane and my Jason. Well, aren't you in luck as we’re having lunch at my shop, which is a half a block from your new shop. I went ahead and bought it using the paper thingy like you said to do and in three weeks, you’ll have the keys to the shop. Jason's sister, Kennedy, gave him her savings to help him out, isn't that so sweet? Not that I wouldn't give you my money if you needed it, but she is just so nice and I am hoping to introduce her to someone. She’s too pretty to be without a boyfriend, and I have decided to help her get one."

  I couldn't explain the feeling I got when I heard my sister's admission. I should have been worried she had just bought a shop with my name and money attached to it, but the real reason for my discomfort was the likelihood Savannah would indeed find a guy for Kennedy. Granted this may not be the same Kennedy as the one I have been introduced to recently, but the fear is there.

  "Savannah, did you say you're having lunch with someone?" If Savannah's Jason was Kennedy's brother, then I might have more success talking with him than Savannah. Besides, it would seem I have a business partner I needed to get acquainted with.

  "I'm having a celebratory lunch with Jason. I invited Kennedy to join us, since his mother and father are being so difficult, but she’s at a job interview. Oh, Zach, she wants to work with horses, just like Aunt Ella. You remember when Daddy got me the red pony when I was five and he tried to jump over the fence and hurt his leg. Aunt Ella called the doctor to fix him. ” Now I was almost certain the Kennedy who had been writing me and the Kennedy who was now my sister's project, were one in the same.

  "Savannah, hand the phone to Jason, please."

  There had been few moments when my sister has been rendered silent. On her sixteenth birthday, when my father pulled some strings and had her favorite boy band play at her party. When she was awarded the National Merit Scholarship after she just knew she blew her interview and now, when I asked to talk to the man who she is apparently much interested in.

  "Uh...um." I could hear the sounds of the street around her. A car that needed replacement brakes, the high pitched sound of metal on metal, a woman who was trying to hail a taxi, all the while cursing at the apparent moron had pulled directly in front of a large water puddle.

  "Yes, sir, this is Jason Forrester. What can I help you with?" I could mentally picture my sister sitting across from this man with her fingernail held captive by her surgically enhanced perfect teeth, not caring she is completely distorting her expensive manicure.

  "Well, first, hello, it's a pleasure to meet you. Second, since we’re apparently business partners, it's Zach, and not sir." Jason had a good sense of humor, a quality I found vital in people. Not many wanted to be tied to someone who took life too seriously. Let's face it, if he had any intention of hanging around my sister, then he will need all the humor he can get.

  "Good to meet you, Zach. Savannah was insistent you would be fine with having a partner you’d never met. She showed me your picture, so I do feel as if I have a slight advantage over you."

 
Savannah is one of those people who have never met a stranger; she sees the good in everyone, even slime ball men who try to take advantage of her. "Yes, well, it won't be too long before I'm back in Atlanta and helping with the shop. I want to know everything you know about this guy we're buying the business from, but first, I need to ask you a rather peculiar question."

  I waited a beat, making certain I had the right words. The last thing I wanted was a pissed off sibling gunning for my balls the second I stepped off the airplane. "Your sister, is her first name Kennedy and did she just get her master's degree from University of Colorado?"

  His response is understandably cautioned, "Yes?"

  "Was she recently involved in an Internet scam for a dating website?" Part of me felt really angry about what had happened, but another part was thankful a door had been opened, giving me an opportunity to get to know Kennedy.

  "She was, actually she is, as it isn't over yet. Listen, to be honest, you're really starting to freak me out with your questions, mind telling me what this is about?"

  I had to laugh; if the roles were reversed I would want to know about Jason's interest in my sister. So, I told him everything: the letter, the emails and how I had grown to love hearing from her. He confessed he had noticed a big change in his sister in the last few weeks.

  "She's at an interview now."

  "Where?" I would have to send an email to my Aunt Ella, maybe she knew someone who was hiring or even had an opening herself. "Hart Stables. It's over on County Road seven. She's going to meet us when she's finished."

  I smiled when he confirmed it was indeed my aunt's therapy center, I'd give her a call the second this conversation was over. Jason started telling me about how his sister emptied out her savings to get his half of the money to buy the shop. He explained Kennedy wouldn't get her trust fund for a few more months, and he worried if his parents found out she had helped him that they would cut her off as well. He explained he had a friend of his draw up some partnership agreements he was giving to Savannah for our attorney to go over. He told me in great detail the specs of the building and what he felt needed to be changed. I asked if he could send me some examples of his work, telling him I would do the same. He told me Savannah and Kennedy had taken tons of pictures of the inside and he had even asked Kennedy to come up with some ideas on how to make the most of the space. He said her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when he asked her.

  "Speak of the devil and she will appear. Hey, Sis, guess who I'm talking to?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kennedy

  This interview was the single most important of my career. Hart Stables and Therapy Center was the only center of its caliber for miles. The center run by Ella Hart, a published author and world-renowned expert in the field of Equestrian Therapy. The pictures that greeted me as I opened the ornate wooden door were proof positive the articles on the web were true.

  A small boy smiling, his arms wrapped tight around the brown haired beauty I knew to be Ella. A young girl in leg braces standing beside a gelding, her smile lighting up the photo. Seeing that smile, watching it form as my patients took steps doctors said would never come, that was the best feeling.

  A horse neighing pulled my smile from the nerves, which had held it captive since I woke this morning. I couldn't resist the temptation, as I made my way around the entry and into the stables.

  My heels clicked against the solid wood of the floor, the restriction of my skirt keeping my steps short and wobbly. I would have dressed in boots and a pair of jeans, but my mother had tossed the pair she found into the trash. The joke was on her as I have thirty-three pairs in a storage facility I rented with my brother. If by a stroke of luck, and maybe a little skill, I am chosen for this position, I plan to move into my own apartment and wear boots everyday for the rest of my life.

  I love being around horses, the smell of the hay, and the sounds of them moving around in their stalls. Even the smell of manure isn't too unpleasant for me.

  A stall at the far end catches my attention, its inhabitants actually. Above the stall, was the long proud head of a beautiful horse, chewing lazily on his breakfast. His black coat shines in the overhead lights. Every stall has a single horse, each giving me a look as I pass them by. The tall guy on the end though, has my attention for the moment.

  Approaching cautiously, the black beauty is eyeing me with the same amount of apprehension. Horses are majestic creatures, powerful and yet, in my opinion, one of the gentlest creatures alive.

  “Hey, boy.” I said softly as I got closer, giving him time to investigate and decide if I pose a threat to him. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” Letting him huff against my fist, the moisture his nostrils leave behind is a comfort for me. The nameplate beside his door reads, Hercules, and I wonder if he is here as part of the program or as a border.

  “That’s right, I’m not gonna hurt ya.” Laying my palm flat against the plane of his nose, I slowly move my fingers up and down. Dark eyes never leave mine as he looks down at me. Hercules isn't quite as big as a Clydesdale, but he is pretty darn close.

  “You make it a habit of touching what doesn't belong to you?” I would have jerked my hand back, but after years of dealing with horses and knowing the importance of never spooking one, I chose instead to drop my hand after patting him twice.

  “Only handsome boys like this big guy.” I know the lady standing against the stall three doors over is Ella Hart. I saw her picture on the webpage and in a few articles I found on Wikipedia.

  “You’re lucky you still have a hand, Hercules isn't known to be much of a gentleman.” Pushing herself away from the wall, the knowing sounds of boots to wood is a major comfort in opposition to the clicking sound my overpriced toe pinchers made.

  As far as first impressions go, I had effectively blown any chance of working here. “Most men aren't, you have to learn to work around their rough edges, until they turn on their backs so you can scratch their bellies.” I began backing away from the edge of the stall, but Hercules was having none of it and nudges me in the shoulder.

  “Looks to me like he has rolled over for you.” I don’t know Ella well enough to know if the humor in her voice is genuine or just to keep me smiling as she tosses me out on my ass. “You must be Kennedy,” she places her own hand where mine had just vacated.

  “Yes, ma’am. Kennedy Forrester, and I will be leaving now.”

  Cinnamon brown eyes drift to mine; her hand stills and then pats the horse twice just as I had. “Hercules, I need to borrow your new girlfriend for a few minutes.” Wordlessly she turns away, heading back toward the front of the stables, carrying her slender frame with authority. According to various sources, she is in her early forties, single, and a force to be reckoned with.

  Stopping just before the hall to the reception office, Ella opens a door on the left, sending me a smile over her shoulder. Standing in the frame of the door, she waves me into the small office, as the phone begins ringing from the desk.

  "I'm sorry, Kennedy, this is my personal line and I have to take it." I wave her off as she answers the line and exits the office. Stopping to take a deep breath, I began to have a good look around the room. Her shelves were filled with pictures of her and who I assumed were her family. A handsome man was wrapped around her from behind, sitting on what looks to be a boat. Little girls in ballet attire, hair pulled tightly atop their heads. Boys playing soccer, hair wet from sweat covering their heads. Men dressed formally as if attending a wedding. My eyes continue to scan and imagine the story behind each image, I smiled until I come to the photo of the man dressed in a military uniform, and my thoughts fall to Zach.

  I wish he would have given me an opportunity to apologize for any offense I had given him. He had tried to be a gentleman, getting my letter to the rightful owner. Perhaps I spoke too much, told him too many of my problems. He was fighting a battle and didn't need to hear about my issues. Still, as I look into the brown eyes of the soldier in the picture, I wonder what Zach lo
oks like? Is he tall or short, dark haired like the man in the picture or is his hair light from the sun? Does he have facial hair or is he clean-shaven?

  "Sorry about that," Ella apologized for the interruption as she reclaimed her seat, donned her glasses, and then took my resume in hand. "Kennedy, I see here that you graduated just a few years ago."

  "Yes, ma'am. Top five in my class." Ella dropped my resume back to her desk, slowly and methodically removing her reading glasses, and then placing them on the desk. She folded her hands in grace and elegance. She was quiet for several seconds, although it seems so much longer.

  "Kennedy, I'm going to be blunt. I have a stack of applicants for this particular position. I've sat through more interviews in the past week than I ever want to remember. Each of them swearing to work hard for me, telling me how good they are with people and of value to me and this company. So tell me, Kennedy, what can you do for me that all the others can't?"

  When I was in high school, I had a teacher who was the most amazing person. He wasn't like the other staff who stood in front of the class and taught behind the desk. He walked around the room or sat in chairs that were vacant due to illness and what not. He would give us real life examples instead of textbook doctrine. He was exciting and fun and made learning his subject easy. I can remember one time; a classmate of mine was having an issue understanding something. She was giving an oral presentation in the class and lost her place. He told her, people will tell you to baffle with bullshit if you can’t impress them with knowledge. He disagreed with that saying, instead he said be honest, own your mistakes and everyone will follow you. I'm choosing to take his advice.

  "Well, Ms. Hart, if you hire me, I will most definitely keep you entertained. I tend to ramble when I'm nervous, as you can clearly see, and I’ll tell you more about completely useless things than you ever wanted to hear. I tend to go overboard with the information I pass along. In all honesty, Ms. Hart, I want to work for this company because I live to see the face of a patient as they take that first step. I treasure each and every moment I can spend with the horses and people who care as much as I do about them" There, I had been honest, now let's see if she found me to be of her liking. By acting on impulse in touching her property, I was using all of my luck with her not calling the authorities.