Troy’s eyes grew wide and he didn’t let Logan finish. “I’ll take it. And thank you. You won’t be sorry.”
Logan looked at the kid almost bouncing on his toes. He wanted that to be true because he really needed someone he could rely on. In a town where there were too many prying eyes and wagging tongues, the fewer people that knew his business, the better off he’d be.
Chapter Three
Kinsey fumed the entire six blocks it took her to drive back to work. As she turned onto Landings Bay then pulled into the driveway, she decided Logan Donnelly was an arrogant jerk. Why had the stupid man just assumed she was Hartley’s secretary? And secretary? Ha! Shouldn’t men as worldly as “the sculptor” live in the twenty-first century? Didn’t he know that the word secretary was an outdated term? Nowadays people generally used administrative assistant when they talked about the support of management. Did she look like a secretary? she wondered as she pulled the car into Hartley’s driveway.
Why couldn’t he have at least assumed she was a paralegal? After all, paralegal more aptly described her job duties over the past several weeks since Hartley hadn’t yet assigned her any of the harder stuff to do like taking care of the town’s legal issues. She hoped it was only a matter of time.
While crossing the lawn to the front door, she glanced down at the way she was dressed. Maybe the skirt wasn’t new but it was in good shape for a thrift store purchase. Maybe the blouse was a little too casual for an attorney—but the days were heating up—and Hartley’s house wasn’t air-conditioned. As she tromped into the hallway and slammed the door shut, she decided it couldn’t be helped. She couldn’t very well put on the same designer suit every day that she’d worn to nail the job. The Donna Karan outfit she’d splurged on to wear to the interview had cost her a small fortune. She couldn’t duplicate that kind of expense this soon into the job.
She’d have to improvise.
Maybe there was a used clothing store nearby where she might at least add one more professional outfit to her meager wardrobe that might make her look more—tailored. The thing is she’d need to find more than one getup to stretch out over five workdays. Since the black skirt was practical, she might be able to wear it twice, if she changed out tops. Even with wearing the suit and the black skirt a couple of times each week that still didn’t fix the problem of what to wear the other days.
No, one dress wasn’t the answer. A step in the right direction, maybe, but she’d still have a hole to fill. Why hadn’t she thought about slowly building up her wardrobe before she took the job?
The answer to that was money, right along with the fact that she’d worn a store uniform for too many years to be on a first name basis with Christian Dior or Versace.
When she stormed into Aaron’s study, she slapped the folder on his desk.
Aaron narrowed his eyes. He recognized an upset female. “Weren’t you able to locate him? Did you miss him at the lighthouse?”
“Oh the man was there all right. Papers are taken care of. He has a broken wrist by the way. I got the impression he’s looking to hire local people, which is probably the only good thing about the man. After all, he can’t very well remodel his lighthouse with a cast. I’ll make copies and see that he gets his…later when I take them out to the B & B tonight.”
“What’s he like?”
“A snooty artist type,” Kinsey retorted.
“Really? Did he say something inappropriate? He seemed so down to earth on the phone.” Aaron scratched his bald head. “Or maybe that was his attorney. See? I’m getting forgetful and confused.”
Kinsey gave him a withering stare, put both hands on her hips. “You aren’t that absent-minded, Mr. Hartley. No, the only insult was—” She let out a sigh. Out of temper, she dropped down into the wing chair in front of his desk. “He thought I was your secretary. And his comment…upset me.”
“Ah.” Aaron’s look said he didn’t understand the slight at all. Not only that, but his face said he thought she might be making too big a deal out of it.
“Oh I suppose I can’t blame him. I don’t look much like a lawyer. Now do I? But damn it, I passed the Bar! There are four-year college grads out there who couldn’t do as well as I did on my very first try.”
“That’s true. Look, if I gave you the impression that I didn’t think you were a real lawyer, I apologize. You don’t need to wear a suit to look the part either. There are plenty of shysters out there who wear the three-piece outfit every day and would just as soon skin you for a buck as to look at you. As far as I’m concerned it’s okay to wear something comfortable and casual to work. Not shorts or jeans, but those Docker pants are just fine. Just look at me, do I wear a coat and tie in my own house?”
“No…but…I wanted to look…you know…professional.”
Aaron nodded, knowing she needed a few bumps in confidence. “You did a damn fine job on Murphy’s will. I went over it while you were gone, checked your terms and phrasing. Carla’s too for that matter. Why those two don’t just tie the knot is anyone’s guess?”
“Bad marriages.” At his stare Kinsey held up a hand. “Don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t my idea to gossip. But when I got my hair trimmed at the Snip N Curl last Saturday, Janie Pointer told me all about Murphy’s divorce twenty years earlier and Carla’s cheating husband. Neither one is in a rush to remarry.”
Aaron shook his head. “Janie ought to know. She’s had two of them. But once Janie got rid of that Sissy Carr for a best friend, Janie seems to have changed…for the better.”
“Well, Janie and Flynn McCready certainly seemed to have found each other. They’re almost inseparable.”
“Odd pair. But then…Flynn’s got quite a past.”
“Doesn’t everyone,” Kinsey drawled with complete conviction, wondering why a man like Logan Donnelly acted so pissed off at the world.
And why would a man like that pick Pelican Pointe, of all places, to settle down into small town life?
Following the map Ethan had drawn, Logan drove along a two-lane stretch of highway, past Monterey cypress, bent and twisted by the constant wind. Beach aster swayed in the breeze along with California lilac. He was about to shoot a U and turn the truck around thinking he’d passed the turnoff when he spotted the apple green sign next to the road that read, “Promise Cove Bed and Breakfast, established 2009 by Scott Phillips. Jordan and Nick Harris, Proprietors.” He made a left, headed toward the cliffs and the ocean.
The estate was an old, massive Victorian that sat a good hundred yards or so off the road, nestled up against the backdrop of the Pacific Ocean. A grove of willows and magnolias shaded the acres of land in front of the house. It reminded Logan of some of the mansions he’d seen during a visit to The French Quarter in his younger days—only Promise Cove was bigger, grander—and certainly more isolated. It looked a little spooky, which was ridiculous, thought Logan.
He shook off that feeling that wanted to edge up his spine. He decided he must still be suffering from a case of jet lag. What he needed was a couple nights in a row of uninterrupted sleep.
He took a left, followed the long drive until it ended at the side of the house where there were three other cars already parked. Before he’d even had time to crawl out of his pickup, the front door flew open. A dark-haired man filled up the doorway. He strolled outside on the porch to wave before heading for the truck. But then, a little golden-haired girl of about three trotted after him and called out, “Wait, Daddy. Wait for me!”
The man stopped in stride so the toddler could catch up.
“Logan Donnelly, right?” Nick asked a few steps from the vehicle.
“Yep, but you can’t be Nick Harris. For some reason I thought you’d be twenty years older. Even your emails sounded…like they were from someone mature.”
“We get that a lot,” Nick answered easily as he reached down and swung the little girl onto his hip. “This is Hutton, my daughter. What do you say Hutton, we grab our new visitor’s luggage and carry
it in the house so he can get to his room?”
For a brief moment, Logan had a touch of nostalgia come over him before he came to his senses. His long trip, all the miles he’d covered in such a short amount of time, was obviously catching up to him in a big way. He needed some shuteye.
Even though Hutton bobbed her blonde head up and down, Logan advised, “That’s okay. Looks like you have your hands full of pretty girl there. I can get my own bags thanks. Besides, I’ll wait until tomorrow to unload all this other stuff.”
Nick scanned the packed bed of the pickup. “There’s more equipment near the garage. It got here yesterday ahead of you,” Nick said matter-of-factly. “We put it around the side of the house for now. That’s a lot of stuff for a sculptor.”
“More like a contractor for the next few months. Just my tools of the trade,” Logan explained.
Nick eyed the man’s cast. “How long before that comes off?”
“Unfortunately, another two weeks.”
“Well, come on inside then. We’ll get you set up in your room. Nothing but the best for the infamous Logan Donnelly,” Nick offered with a wink.
About that time a gorgeous female with golden-colored hair stepped onto the porch carrying a baby on her hip.
Nick waved an arm. “And this is my wife, Jordan, with our eleven-month-old son, Scott.”
Logan shook his head. “How in the world do you two manage a busy inn with two small kids?”
From the steps, Jordan let out a laugh. “It’s never dull, that’s for sure. Since Nick’s also a member of the town council and president of the bank, it makes for a busy, well-rounded life. Welcome to Promise Cove, Logan Donnelly. By the way, I’m a big fan of your work. That piece you did in bronze and steel for the Chicago Zoo was brilliant.”
For the first time all day, Logan flashed a genuine smile. “And you, Mrs. Harris, are the innkeeper extraordinaire.”
“And you would know that how?”
“Because you have great taste in art,” Logan returned with another hundred-watt grin. “Plus, it never hurts a boost to the ego when a beautiful woman admires my work.”
When Logan reached one-handed for his garment bag, Jordan spied the broken splint on his wrist. “We’ll get your bags.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll make two trips. You both have your hands full of good-looking babies.”
Nick grabbed one of Logan’s bags anyway while still carrying Hutton. “Follow me. Your reservation is for one of the best rooms we’ve got.”
Chapter Four
By the time Kinsey reached Promise Cove it was after six. After dropping off Murphy’s will for him to review and sign at the store, Kinsey felt like she’d solved one part of the puzzle. Owner Patrick Murphy had gladly taken her application and hired her on the spot. Good thing he needed a cashier on the weekends. Come Saturday, from eight in the morning to four thirty in the afternoon, Kinsey would be back to checking groceries. Sundays, too. He’d gushed over her experience, had delighted in the fact that he wouldn’t have to spend days or weeks training her.
Wonder what the town will think of that? Kinsey wondered as she made her way into the B & B via the front door. She hadn’t taken two steps inside the wide entryway when Scott David Harris crawled over on all fours and latched onto her legs like a monkey clinging to a vine.
As the baby gripped her skirt in his little fist for balance, he began to try to stand. She watched him teeter, and continue to hold on to the fabric. Kinsey dropped her bag on the hall table so she could bend down to scoop him up in a hug. “Now that’s what I call a welcome home. When a great, big handsome man greets me at the door,” Kinsey crooned. “I know for sure it’s gonna be a super night.”
“He moves fast,” Nick exclaimed, hustling down the hallway after his son. “I put him down for a sec while I set the table in the dining room, next thing I know he’s out here.”
“Oh it’s okay, more than okay. He’ll be walking before you know it. He’s adorable.”
Nick’s lips curved up. “Adorable must mean he takes after his daddy. You let me know when you want to give him back, Kinsey. Dinner’s about ready anyway. Chinese stir fry tonight.”
Kinsey returned Nick’s smile “Yum. You guys are spoiling me. Don’t know what I’ll do when I leave to get my own place. I feel like a queen every time I walk in here and you guys have supper on the table.”
Jordan appeared behind Nick, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “With our newest guest checked in this afternoon, we have a full house, at least over the next few days. Dinner’s served in twenty minutes. Have you already found a place in town, Kinsey?”
“Not yet. But it’s only a matter of time. I’m looking. Now that they have Nate, Hayden and Ethan might be moving to a bigger house. If they do, they might rent me theirs.”
“The Cody’s have a cute place,” Jordan said. Ever the mother hen when it came to taking care of company, she went on, “We’ll hate to lose one of the sweetest people we’ve had stay here. But we want you to settle into town and that means getting the right place to live. If that’s Ethan’s place then so be it. But whatever place you find, we’ll help you move your stuff down here.”
“That is above and beyond necessary,” Kinsey told her. “I only have a few things from my apartment I put in storage. It really doesn’t amount to all that much.”
Jordan tilted her head to study the woman. “You look tired, Kinsey. Are you sleeping? Is everything okay? Did someone in town say something to upset you?”
Kinsey didn’t know how Jordan managed to pick up on things so well, but she waved off the question. “I’m fine, just adjusting to the job is all. You know how it is in a new place, starting from scratch. Trying to prove myself takes a toll, but I’m not complaining. I’m up for the challenge.” No way did Kinsey plan to share her financial worries with anyone else.
“And it takes time for people to accept you in Pelican Pointe. But remember, Kinsey, both Nick and I used to be outsiders, too. It wasn’t all paradise here for us. Don’t let anyone in town get to you that includes Hartley, although the man does know his stuff.”
“No argument there.” Still holding the baby, Kinsey followed Jordan through a swinging door into the state-of-the-art commercial kitchen and bumped smack-dab into Logan Donnelly. It was hard to tell who was more startled, the baby, Kinsey, or Logan. When Scott acted like he wanted to pucker up and cry at the jolt, Kinsey cooed, “It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t let this…big ol’ guy…scare you.”
Nibbling on the canapé he’d pilfered from the appetizer tray set out on the counter for munching, Logan sheepishly glanced at Jordan before his eyes zeroed in on Kinsey, who he realized looked perfectly at ease with a baby in her arms. “I…uh…” His brain misfired—visibly. The woman had the most incredible exotic eyes to match the all-American-girl next door vibe she gave off. The pull in his lower belly told him his libido needed a swift punch in its gut to remind him he was done with women.
To get his brain to work right, Logan stuck his hand out and ran a finger along the baby’s chubby cheek. “It’s okay, big guy. I was trying to hide from your mama so she wouldn’t know I stole the finger food.”
Scott rewarded him with a toothy grin.
Logan decided it was time to set the record straight. “So you aren’t Hartley’s secretary but an attorney,” he said. When she continued to stare at him, he added, “Troy mentioned it.”
Kinsey rolled her eyes. “You do realize that most people these days refer to the support of upper management as an administrative assistant not a secretary, don’t you? That is so…old-fashioned.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” Kinsey muttered, clearly annoyed at the man who more than likely had no idea how the other half lived. She knew she was being difficult and didn’t care. Instead she bounced the baby on her hip and said, “I brought your copies of the real estate transaction. They’re on the hall table in my bag.”
Jordan eyed the tension between man and woman
before patting Logan’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about sneaking an hors d’oeuvres. That’s why I put them out, silly. To eat.” She picked up another crab puff from the plate and shoved it into Logan’s hand. “Here, don’t ruin your appetite though, dinner’s coming up.” She turned to Kinsey. “You want a crab wonton?”
“Maybe later. I need to go change. I’ve been in this outfit all day. I’m ready for something a lot more comfortable.”
But hearing Kinsey decline the food, Logan visibly winced. It brought back memories of Fiona’s ridiculous anorexic eating habits.
Jordan held out her hands for her son. “Of course, you do. Here, let me have Scotty. Come here, sweetie, come to mommy.” Jordan hefted her son to her shoulder and patted Kinsey’s arm. “Now go. I made your favorite tonight for dessert.”
“Cherry pie? I think I love you,” Kinsey drooled.
A bit confused at her reaction to what he recognized as forbidden carbs, Logan snorted, “Yeah, like you’d really eat that.”
“You’re right. I’ll probably inhale it,” Kinsey retorted before heading for the back staircase. “Don’t start dinner without me,” she ordered, pointing a finger at Jordan. And with that, she dashed up the steps.
“She doesn’t really eat pie, does she?” Logan asked.
Jordan’s brow creased. “Kinsey? Why wouldn’t she eat cherry pie? It’s her favorite.” Still puzzled, she lifted a shoulder. “Kinsey gave me a terrific recipe for parmesan mac and cheese that Hutton absolutely loves. So, I’d say, she not only eats, but cooks as well.”
“It’s been my experience women that look like Kinsey usually don’t go near sugar.”
Jordan gave him a strange look. “Sounds like you need to experience new women.” She handed Logan another crab puff. “Did you get settled in okay? All unpacked?”
“I did. The view of the ocean is stunning. In fact, the entire place has my creative juices flowing already and I’ve been here less than five hours.” He held up his injured hand. “Can’t wait to get this thing off so I can get back to work, hold a torch again.”
Lighthouse Reef (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 4) Page 4
