Risky Business

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Risky Business Page 5

by Melissa Cutler


  “Duke Connor.” He gave her hand the briefest up and down, then started to turn away from her. She tugged his hand, refusing to relinquish it until he looked her way again.

  “And their names?”

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he paused as though debating whether he should divulge such sensitive information to the enemy.

  “That’s Brandon, right?” she said.

  Hearing his name, he glanced in her direction, his shoulders stiff, his expression guarded. Women probably fell all over him. He was classically handsome—too handsome for Allison’s taste, not that she was necessarily turned off by men with flawless complexions and movie star good looks, but yeah, she didn’t get that kind of guy or what made him tick.

  She gave Brandon a wave, then made Katie’s hand wave. “You took care of Katie when my coat was on fire. Thank you.”

  She didn’t think it was her imagination that his shoulders relaxed a shade as he straightened up and met her gaze. “It was no trouble. I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

  She squished over the ash, debris, and water and offered him her hand to shake. “I didn’t get the chance to thank you properly.”

  He surprised her by accepting the gesture, perusing her body as he gave her hand a firm shake. Not that she was anything to look at this early in the morning, clad in sweats and holding a baby who’d probably burped up formula on her shoulder, but maybe he’d mistaken her comment about thanking him properly for an invitation.

  “That’s Liam McAllister and Will Corgan,” Brandon added, pointing to the men nearest the fireplace.

  The one he’d pointed out as Liam had dark blond hair buzzed short in a military cut and a tool belt strapped to his trim waist. He didn’t acknowledge the introduction, but continued pulling off the baseboards nearest the fireplace using the back of a hammer.

  Will was the tallest and brawniest man of the group. He had almost black hair and sharp, dark eyes that burned with an edgy energy. It wasn’t until he held a three-pronged prosthetic out for her to shake that she noticed he was missing his right hand.

  She tried not to act surprised or flinch or let her gaze linger on it a hair too long, not that she gave one whit about it or was weirded out, but it caught her off guard to see something other than what her mind expected. The gesture and the gleam in his eyes, and all the men’s obvious loyalty to Theo, made her wonder whether he’d offered her the prosthetic to shake because his disability didn’t bother him or because he hoped it would bother her.

  If that was the case, then too bad for him. She took hold of two of the three prongs and shook them like a handshake, smiling. “Great to meet you, Will. Were you here last night? I’m sorry if I’ve forgotten. There was a lot going on.”

  He swished his work boot through the ash and water. “This is my handiwork. I sprayed the whole room down, thinking I’d rather deal with water damage than have to rebuild Theo’s office.”

  As she debated whether to correct him on that last point, Katie grabbed a hold of one of the prongs and pulled it toward her mouth. Allison couldn’t decide if she should be mortified or not until she registered the way Will’s whole body and expression had frozen, like Katie was a wild animal.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, working to free him from Katie’s determined grip.

  “You’re Lowell’s wife?” Will said, woodenly, like he was trying to distract himself.

  “His ex-wife. Very, very ex-wife. Okay, Katie, that’s enough of that.” Katie’s fingers finally released. Allison lifted the hem of her sweatshirt and wiped Katie’s drool off the metal.

  “And this kid is yours with him?” He sounded bemused rather than angry, which she could totally understand. That truth baffled her sometimes, too.

  “This is Katie, and, yes, Lowell’s her father. Poor thing, right?”

  Will huffed good-naturedly. “I don’t see how a guy like that could sire something so cute, but whatever. No offense.”

  “None taken. I know exactly what you mean.”

  Duke walked their way, hands on his hips. “The damage doesn’t look too bad. We won’t know for sure until we get into the drywall and the floors, but I don’t think it’s going to run you too much.”

  Allison tried not to let how she felt at the mention of money, of another bill she’d have to pay with funds she didn’t have, show on her face. She assumed the business’s insurance would cover the costs, but she hadn’t had a chance to look into it, and a reimbursement check meant nothing if she didn’t have the money in the bank to front the cost in the first place. She shoved the dark thoughts aside. “Will you be able to fix the fireplace, too? I love having fires.” She wagged her finger, feeling playful. “No jokes about me setting fires, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m surprised Theo hasn’t. He’s a whiz at fixing things. Best mechanical mind I’ve ever seen.”

  “Hey,” Will called with mock offense.

  “Did Theo hire you all for this job? He didn’t mention it to me last night when we talked.” More like waged battle.

  “He didn’t need to. We always have time to help one of our own.”

  She didn’t know what “our own” meant, but she didn’t see fit to take the focus off her main concern, which was seeking out Theo and making sure Duke and his crew were trustworthy and good at what they did. “As far as the bill goes, I’ll need to see an estimate first, if you would, please.”

  That earned her a snicker.

  “We’re friends. Theo is one of us, so we’re going to be fair. Materials only, and even then, we’re not going to screw you over. I know you don’t know me from Adam, but Theo will vouch for us if you have concerns.”

  She did, but only because she didn’t know whom to trust or what to believe, and she was out of her league with builders. But if Theo trusted them, and if he was one of them, whatever that meant, then that was good enough for her. “Thank you. I appreciate you all coming here on such short notice. I’d offer you coffee, but the moving van with my coffeemaker in it isn’t scheduled to arrive until Saturday. I didn’t realize what poor planning that was.”

  Brandon pulled a thermos out of a canvas bag. “Then you’re in luck, because I brought some.”

  “Oh, my God, thank you. I’d kiss you for it, but I’m working on making a better second impression since, with the first one, I set myself on fire.”

  They grinned. Brandon poured the lid full of coffee and handed it to her. She smiled her gratitude. If Lowell-bashing and self-deprecating humor helped her bond with Theo’s friends, then she was glad she’d gone there. The mood in the room relaxed in an almost tangible way, as if someone had opened a window and let all the tension out.

  “Sorry to hear about what happened last night,” Duke said. “But I’m glad you and your baby are safe. It’s a good thing Theo saw you when he did.”

  “Yes, it was.” She balanced the coffee and Katie as she walked to the stationary activity station she’d brought inside the night before to serve as Katie’s entertainment and give Allison’s arms the occasional break until the storage pod was delivered. “Even if I would’ve been just fine taking off my burning coat or dropping on the grass and rolling to put out the fire. Does he always have such a flare for the dramatic?”

  Easing Katie into the seat, she bit her lip. That had come out sounding way too bitchy and ungrateful. Sure, making fun of herself and Lowell had worked miracles, but it probably wasn’t the best plan to put down their friend. Then again, a couple of the men laughed.

  She directed Katie’s attention to a ladybug that lit up, then painted an innocent expression on her face as she sipped her coffee.

  Duke got a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I heard you gave Theo a piece of your mind about that after he fished you back out. Good for you. There’s only so much we can all do when he turns into Yosemite Sam.”

  Not the response she was expecting. She p
ressed her lips together, trying not to laugh outright at the perfection of the analogy, even if she still thought he was more like an angry bear than the red-faced Wild West Napoleon who’d faced off against Bugs Bunny.

  Theo strode through the back door. “What are you doing here?”

  He’d changed into a muted green thermal long-sleeve T-shirt and a dark pair of jeans. The scowl was back in place behind a thick layer of stubble. Her pulse picked up speed at the sight of him, not unlike it did when she got too close to the edge of a bridge. Adrenaline was a strange beast, and she had to wonder how long it would take before she stopped feeling flustered around him.

  “Helping you out with the fire damage,” Will said. “You’re welcome.”

  “I didn’t ask you to help me out. I’m perfectly capable of fixing this myself.”

  Duke stepped forward, his arms crossed over his chest. “Stand down, Theo. This would take you weeks by yourself and cost an arm and a leg, with new floors, new drywall, a paint job, and fixing the fireplace. You don’t want this on your business insurance record, and there’s no need go through all that red tape bullshit or break your back for weeks, because we always help our own. You’d do the same for us, so you know it goes both ways.”

  Theo mashed his lips into a straight line but said no more, as though he respected Duke too much to argue with him. After a breath and a swallow, he said, “Then we do an even exchange. I’ll handle all your tool repairs for the next few months. Pick up and drop off, too.”

  “You just can’t let us do this for you, can you?”

  “No, sir.”

  Duke scrubbed a hand over his goatee, considering. “All right, then. You have yourself a deal.”

  “Good. One thing, though. You don’t need to fix the fireplace. It never gets used.”

  Allison waved her hand to catch their attention. “I’d use it. I’d love them to fix the fireplace.”

  “But you’re not staying. I thought I made that clear.”

  “Ouch,” someone muttered behind her.

  She could spit, Theo made her so mad. Instead, she plastered on a saccharine smile, channeled the politician’s wife she’d once been, and patted the wide reception desk. “Ready to get to work? How about we start by looking at this year’s calendar?”

  He glanced past her, to his friends’ amused expressions, then to the desk. He shook his head. “No need. It looks like you’ve got a handle on this. You want to play like you can run this business, be my guest—at least until the new change of ownership contract comes through.”

  He spun on his heel, pushing the door open.

  She ground her teeth together, then blurted to the back of his head, “If you won’t help me, then I’m sure Shawna will.”

  Theo stopped mid-stride. A strained quiet fell over the room. With her focus on the silhouette of Theo’s hard, unreadable expression, she gestured to the desk. “What time does she usually get in?”

  Theo’s chin dropped. His Adam’s apple bobbed. The men behind her shifted, but no one had resumed their work.

  “What?” she said, taking inventory of the uncomfortable looks on all the men’s faces. “What did I say?”

  Chapter Five

  It sucked that Theo had to be the one to break it Lowell’s ex-wife that he’d been an even bigger asshole than she’d already known. He didn’t want to feel sorry for her. He thought he might be saved from the task when her baby, who was sitting in a colorful baby toy contraption near the reception desk, started to whimper, as though she’d felt the mood shift in the room, too. The presence of her baby was yet another reason Allison Whitley was ill-suited for the job.

  Allison picked up the baby, then the teething ring she’d dropped behind her on the seat. Boosting Katie onto one hip, she looked from solemn face to solemn face. “Somebody needs to tell me what’s going on. Please.”

  “Shawna quit,” Theo said.

  She glanced around as though aware that Theo’s explanation didn’t add up with the tension in the room. “All right. I hadn’t heard, but it’s not the end of the world. When did that happen?”

  “When Whitley was arrested.”

  Shawna hadn’t been a bad person, beyond knowingly having an affair with a married man. She didn’t exactly go above and beyond with the job, but she was good with the phones, mostly showed up on time, and was never outwardly judgmental to Theo for his issues with reading and writing.

  And yet, he’d been relieved when she’d quit because it was disgusting, thinking about her and Whitley getting it on within view of Lanette, that and the fact that, with her quitting, Theo was spared the need to fire her after he bought the business from Lowell. His relief had been so profound that he hadn’t minded scrambling to find a replacement. He’d ended up hiring a college kid who’d then quit as soon as the season ended.

  “What? Why? Did Lowell stop paying your wages? Because he swore to me the bills and wages were being handled by his accountant and that business here was happening as usual. You’re still getting paid, I hope?”

  “I am.”

  Theo knew from Oscar Vintana, the marine-turned-business lawyer he’d hired to draw up the sale proposal and contract, that all of Whitley’s assets had been frozen at the time of his arrest, though Cloud Nine Boat Rentals was spared because it was owned by Cloud Nine Incorporated, of which Lowell Whitley was the sole partner after he’d won it from Shorty Malone in a drunken poker game five years ago.

  Theo was already managing the place at that point because Shorty had chosen to while away his older years in a half-drunken haze, and the change of ownership had been a hard pill to swallow, to say the least.

  Shorty had been a veteran, as well as an old friend of Duke’s, which was how Theo had come to work for him. When Theo was fresh out of the hospital, he’d come to the US for rehab on a tip from another Canadian soldier who’d been impressed with the cutting-edge research and rehab methodology offered in the area of neurological disabilities. It wasn’t long before his American therapists suggested he look for a construction job working for Duke. He’d taken Theo under his wing and arranged for him to live in one of Shorty’s old, broken houseboats in exchange for doing odd jobs around Cloud Nine. That was more than ten years ago.

  Less than a year after Cloud Nine’s ownership shifted to Whitley, Shorty died. That had been another hard pill for Theo to swallow because the two of them hadn’t parted on the best of terms. Theo had been so angry at the carelessness with which Shorty handed the business—including Theo’s home and livelihood—to a dirty politician who couldn’t have cared less about it, that he’d confronted Shorty. That argument had been their final words to each other, which became yet another regret for Theo to pile on with the others.

  One of the many reasons he’d wanted to buy Cloud Nine was as a tribute to Shorty, a way to right his wrong by remaking the company into the thriving business it’d been under Shorty’s care. It’d taken years to achieve, but Theo had finally amassed enough money to buy the business outright with the help of a bank loan he’d been pre-approved for. He’d scrimped and saved to put himself in that position and had nearly made it happen.

  “Okay, then if Shawna was getting paid and business was happening as usual, why would she quit? Why would Lowell’s arrest matter to her?”

  Behind her, Duke and his crew fidgeted uncomfortably. If he’d been in Allison’s position, the pity would have made the terrible truth hurt even worse. So he kept a stony face and maintained eye contact to keep her focused on him, rather than the other men.

  “The why doesn’t matter. She quit, and now I need to hire a new receptionist, which I was waiting to do until closer to the start of the tourist season in May.”

  Allison stared at him, the wheels clearly turning. Then her eyes widened into a lost, hurt look that was so raw and vulnerable and genuine that Theo drew a sharp breath and nearly let his stoic façade sl
ip. She wrenched her gaze to the floor, blinking.

  It was disgraceful how terribly Whitley had treated his wife, a fact that hadn’t bothered Theo nearly as much before he’d put a face with Allison’s name. Before he’d stood before her and witnessed the pain in her eyes at discovering the extent of her husband’s sins. That expression of hers would haunt him for a long time to come.

  Sure, she was grating and stubborn and irrational, but no woman deserved to be cheated on or abandoned on a regular basis for a mistress. Why would a man do that if he had a real, beautiful woman at home—a woman who was having his baby? It didn’t add up—and it ticked Theo off that it bothered him.

  He shook off the feeling. It didn’t serve him to be angry at Allison’s circumstances on her behalf. She may not have belonged with Lowell Whitley, but she also didn’t belong here. It wasn’t as though he were plotting some dastardly overthrow that would leave her in ruins. By selling Cloud Nine to him, she’d have plenty of money to tide her over until she found a job she was better suited for.

  When Allison looked up again, it was with an expression of cool determination. She stood taller and hitched the baby higher on her hip. “Lowell was arrested outside a strip club. Apparently he was a regular Thursday night customer, so what you’re nobly trying not to tell me doesn’t come as a surprise. I might not be a genius, but I’m not stupid, either.”

  If that’s the way she wanted to play it, like she was unaffected by the revelation, then he was fine with going along. By the looks of it, the other guys were, too.

  She wrinkled her nose in an exaggerated display of disgust. “What grosses me out the most is that I slept in that bed upstairs last night. Ugh. If I had a more successful history as an arsonist, I’d consider setting the sheets on fire, but I don’t think that’s my best move.”

  If her intent was to cut the tension in the room and get the men to stop feeling sorry for her, then she was a success. Even Theo felt a twinge of admiration interfering with his disdain for her.

  Will grinned and rested his pry bar on his shoulder. “Good call.”

 

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