Lacy frowned and hesitated. Wren had made it sound like a couple or a family would be renting the place, not some solitary client with a driver. Of course, as she had also said, the owners had hoards of money. Maybe this was one of their friends? Or clients?
As she debated whether to hand over the key or to ask for some sort of identification, she heard a car door unlatch and open.
“Lacy Morelli?”
She froze, the familiar deep voiced etched in her memory, though she didn’t care to admit that to anyone. Lacy swallowed her shock and turned. “Mr. Hastings?”
“Finn.” His eyes, dark as the sport coat he wore, caught with hers. On approach, he reached out his hand to shake hers. “I didn’t realize you would be meeting me here.”
She accepted his hand, wordlessly.
Finn lifted a look at the man standing by on the porch. “Frank, it appears that Ms. Morelli has already inspected the property, so that won’t be necessary.”
Lacy snapped out of her trance. “I believe there’s been a misunderstanding. I am currently on a sabbatical and staying in my family’s home over there.” She pointed toward the house next door. “My neighbor, Wren Mcafee, was unable to meet you here, so she asked me to give the key to Mr., uh, Johnson.”
Finn smiled. “That’s the pseudonym my assistant chose for me this time.”
“Hmm.”
He quirked a smile at her, a lock of his hair drifting onto his forehead. She resisted the urge to gently brush it back into place. “I take it you don’t like the name she chose. What would you have preferred?”
She smiled, despite the racing of her heart. “I have no opinion.”
“I sincerely doubt that. From what I’ve witnessed, you have plenty of opinions.”
He … noticed? Lacy stuffed down the momentary thrill. He was playing with her and she knew better than to fall apart over it. This was the reason the man was rich, for heaven’s sake. Because he knew what to say and when to say it—and he also knew exactly how to make people think what he wanted them to think.
Which was one reason her mind was such a scrambled mess at the moment.
Lacy held the key out to him, ostensibly changing the subject. “Well, I won’t keep you. Nor will I ask for your identification, Mr. … Johnson.”
He grinned. “A necessary inconvenience.”
“Of course.” She kept her gaze steady, professional. “Here is the key to the house, and here”—she handed him the faded paper drawing Wren had entrusted her with—“is a map of the area. Wren insisted I see that you received this.”
Finn accepted the key but raised an eyebrow at the map. “I take it Wren is a senior citizen.”
“She is.”
He licked his lips and took the map as well. Frank swooped down and took them both from Finn’s hands. The older man glanced at Lacy. “I will handle things from here on out.” He didn’t add: You can go now. But she heard his meaning anyway.
She turned to leave and stopped. “By the way,” she said, “the local coastal group frowns on vacation rentals around here. So you might want to keep your arrangement quiet, you know, so you don’t draw any ire while you’re here.”
Frank nodded. “We’ll keep that in mind.”
Finn cut in. “Yes, thank you for your insight. I may call on you for more of that.”
Lacy narrowed her eyes. The rest of her month was planned out. Well, her plans were at least penciled in and they did not include work for Hastings Resorts. Not that she would mention that right now. He probably was used to getting what he wanted—what was she thinking? Of course he was used to getting what he wanted.
Instead of inserting her thoughts, which could very well drip with unwelcome sarcasm, Lacy pressed her lips together and nodded. “Perhaps we’ll talk again.” She crossed the divide between their two houses, achingly aware of how her forced vacation had begun a steady downhill turn.
Two
He was her kryptonite. Why hadn’t she realized this before? It was morning now and Lacy stood with one hand on her hip and the other on her phone, surveying the living room and the couch that had clearly held more than its share of teenaged rear ends. She had moved it twice already and was beginning to sweat. But she was determined to figure out the optimum spot right now so she held up her phone camera and took another photo of her current furniture placement. Anything to keep her mind off of the boy next door.
“Knock-knock!” The screen door swung open and Maggie trounced in.
“Someone’s chipper,” Lacy said, without looking at her sister.
“And someone here is not!” Maggie hooked an arm around Lacy’s neck and smacked a noisy kiss on her cheek.
Lacy sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Suddenly her dreary job in Lost Wages, Nevada was looking shinier and shinier.
Maggie plopped down on the couch and curled her feet up underneath her bottom.
“Really, Mags? I’m trying to find the perfect spot for this thing.”
“I’m surprised I didn’t find it out on the curb.”
“So you agree we should get rid of it.”
Maggie scoffed, laughing. “I said no such thing. Although, if you really think we’ll have a hard time selling this place without proper furniture to stage it, then I’m sure we could rent one.”
“Or have Jake buy us a new one.”
“Ha—no way am I asking him. Especially not with that fancy wedding he and Daisy are planning!”
Lacy crinkled her nose. She took another photo, this one with her sister on the old couch. “Why are you here again?”
“Because I can’t get enough of my middle sister.”
“Stop.”
Maggie grinned. “Fine. I stopped by because, well, I want you to come to my wedding.”
Lacy stared at her big sister. “You’re kidding. I thought you were going to elope?”
“We are. Sort of.” Maggie stood up. “Luke and I picked up our marriage license and we’ve decided to get married a week from Saturday, right here in Colibri.”
Lacy stuck a fist into her side. “How is that eloping? Eloping means sneaking off in the middle of the night to get married in some uber-secret place without a lot of hoopla.”
Maggie gave her an embarrassed smile. “Don’t you think Luke and I have carried enough secrets for a lifetime?”
Lacy sighed. “For sure.”
“As to your comment about where we should elope, I want you to know there’ll be no hoopla here. We’re getting married on Luke’s deck and I would love for you to be there. That’s it.”
“Well, of course I’ll be there, but won’t the rest of the family be peeved that you haven’t asked them? You were pretty upset with Grace when you learned about her marriage in the news.”
“Fake marriage.”
“None of us knew that at the time.”
“True.” Maggie was smiling. Really smiling. “Look. The rest of the clan will be in California soon for Daisy and Jake’s wedding. We can all celebrate together then. Luke and I just really, really want to get married. Now.”
Lacy shook her head at her beaming sister and waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, sure, whatever. I’ll attend your elopement with a bottle of champagne and a big smile on my face. Happy?”
“Yes!” Maggie rushed her, pulling Lacy into a bear hug like only her big sister could accomplish. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“That makes one of us.”
Maggie’s eyes washed over her face. “You’re teasing me, I know. But …”
“But?”
“Something happened. I can tell. What’s up?”
Lacy laughed for the first time in days. “You will never stop being the big sister, will you? I’m fine.”
Maggie stared at her quietly, a motherly gaze resting on Lacy. It unnerved her. Finally, she said, “If you’re sure, then, I will go.”
“I’m sure.”
As Maggie turned to leave, Finn, aka Mister Tall-Dark-and-Handsome, appeared in the doorw
ay. At yet another unannounced guest, Lacy almost wanted to call out: Grand Central Station!
Maggie spun around, her lips popped open. She mouthed the word: Hottie! but Lacy shooed her toward the door anyway.
“Hello, Finn,” Lacy said as she opened the door. “I would like you to meet my sister, Maggie. Maggie, this is Finn Hastings.”
Finn reached out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maggie.”
“And you as well,” she said, casting a questioning look at her sister.
Lacy didn’t bite, though. Finn, too, caught eyes with her. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
Maggie butted back in. “Not at all. I was just leaving.” She turned so that only Lacy could see the hubba-hubba expression on her face as she sang out, “Ta-ta!”
“Come in,” Lacy said, holding the door open wide. She’d have to explain his presence to Maggie later, but in the meantime, she wondered what he was doing here looking like he was about to hike the foothills. Though she had always appreciated his taste in suits, the number of times they had bumped into each other over the past couple of years could be counted on one hand. This was the first time she had seen him in anything so ... informal. Hiking boots, shorts, a T-shirt that highlighted the arms and abs of a guy who took care of himself.
“Lacy?”
She snapped a look at him. Had she been staring? Worse, had he noticed?
He smiled. “Is this where you grew up?”
“Yes and no. We spent our summers here.” She didn’t feel the need to expand on that explanation, though there was so much more.
“It looks well-loved.”
“It needs some remodeling, you mean.” A laugh escaped her.
He turned and let out a whistle, steady and smooth, his eyes on the kitchen. “Wow. Didn’t expect to see that.”
Lacy smiled. “Now you’re being truthful. The kitchen was a gift from my brother who stayed here a couple of months ago. He’s got a great eye, not to mention the skills to carry his vision through.” She swept an arm to point out the rest of the house. “Other than some new additions to the guest bath and painting, the rest of the house has remained pretty much unchanged.”
He took a step toward the kitchen but paused. “May I?”
She shrugged and almost immediately wished she had been more accommodating. He was her boss’s boss, which technically made him her boss. She still found it odd and a little unnerving that he was here in Colibri Beach, of all places. Especially since she had as recently as yesterday tried to shake away all thoughts of him. The way he treated his brother? Please!
Yet now that he was here, she couldn’t run off and pretend she didn’t notice him, because, being honest, she couldn’t not notice him.
Finn strolled through the kitchen, stopping occasionally to admire the lines of the cabinets, the elegant faucet, and the high-end appliances and their shiny finishes. When he had toured the small space, he turned and leaned onto the quartz-topped island.
“There’s a lot of wow in this room. I don’t suppose I could fly your brother out to New York to update the kitchen in my apartment?”
“Yes, there is a lot of wow in there, and it’s doubtful that my brother could fit you in.”
Finn’s smile faded. “I see.”
She wanted to roll her eyes at the look he flashed her, the expression of a little boy who had just learned Santa Claus wasn’t real. Instead, she flashed him a bridge-making smile. “Jake is getting married in a few months. Not only that, he runs an architecture firm in Los Angeles and barely has extra time anyway. The kitchen was a side gig, of sorts.”
Finn’s dark brows dipped as he stared at her. Adrian always called this his formulating face. “When he looks like that,” Adrian had whispered to her once, “he’s formulating a question or point of view. Best to stay quiet until he’s finished.”
Lacy licked her lips and waited, decidedly uncomfortable.
Finn’s expression relaxed, a certain light in his eyes. “Is your brother Jake Morelli?”
“He is.”
He grinned. “I don’t know why I never made the connection, nor why you never mentioned him to me.”
“Me?”
“He does design hotels, doesn’t he?”
Lacy froze. If they were playing chess, Finn had just declared a checkmate and she was about to be thrown out of the game. But in her defense, Jake designed a lot of beautiful things—not just hotels. “Yes, you’re right. He does.”
Finn’s expression sobered. “Small world. Your brother has certainly been on my radar.”
“May I ask … are you looking into building more hotels?”
“The prospect is always alive, though I am very selective.”
“Yes, of course you are.”
As if an afterthought, Finn took a quick look at his watch. He glanced up, his forehead creased. “In fact, I have a call soon with a realtor.”
Goosebumps rose on her arm, and not in a good way. “Not with Lillian Madsen, I hope.”
His face gave nothing away. “You know her?”
She scoffed. “Everybody knows Lillian. She’s a shark.”
“Well, this is the beach …”
“A land shark.”
“I see.”
Why did he say that so often? “Listen,” she said. “I can appreciate the woman’s success. She practically owns the listings in this town. That’s admirable.”
“But?”
“She has a terrible bedside manner.”
“I don’t understand. Or maybe I do …”
Lacy shook her head and crossed her arms. She didn’t care to talk about this, to bring up the sad things of life, but Lillian had stepped on too many hearts—including her own. “If Lillian makes you a promise, say, to sell your house, she’ll do everything in her strength to get it done. No matter whose grave she has to walk on to make that happen.”
He winced. “You really don’t like her very much.”
“I do not.”
“I consider myself warned.”
“May I ask why you’re speaking with Lillian? Because if you’re thinking of buying a second place here in Colibri, I could ask around and see who might be selling.”
“Actually, I’m surprised you haven’t heard why I’m here.”
“Heard?”
“Adrian suggested I look into this area for possible resort development. I thought he would have told you.”
Lacy shut her eyes. Of course. In a strange and disjointed sort of way, this all made sense. “You know, Adrian asked me to scout around for a possible location, and I immediately tried to shut down the thought.”
“Why?”
She gave him an exasperated sigh. “For one thing, there’s no city or airport near here for miles. For another, there’s not a lot of open land left. And on a personal note, my memories of this place are quite mixed.”
“I see.”
She bit back a retort.
“Did I say something to offend you?”
Remember who he is, Lacy. Don’t be curt. “Not at all.” She shook her head, trying to convince herself. “I just have a lot on my mind today.”
He dropped a gentle fist to the island countertop. “Right. I’ll be going now.”
“Wait,” Lacy said. “I forgot to ask why you stopped by. Was there something you wanted to ask me?”
“I was going to ask you what you thought of my realtor and you offered me your answer before I had the chance to mention her. I will be on my guard.”
“Okay, then.”
Finn’s eyes took a quick sweep of the living room before returning to her face. “Have a good day, Lacy.”
“Mm-hm. You too.” She closed the door behind him and leaned her back against it, her eyes landing idly on a thin shaft of light struggling to make its way through a curtained window. Already it had been an eventful day. Finn Hastings had just been in her home, alone, with her. If she had wanted to, she might have steered their time together in a far different direction than it
had gone.
Something wriggled in her brain. Hadn’t Adrian said that his brother was breathing down on him about finding property to develop? And now Finn was here, searching?
Lacy exhaled, forcing her shoulders to relax. Poor Adrian was obviously being pressured by Finn to find the next great American resort destination. Didn’t Finn know the precarious state of his younger brother? How could he justify pressuring him like that?
Lacy knew that she would likely bump into Finn around Colibri Beach. How could she not? But she determined to keep her head—and her heart—in check. The last thing she wanted to do was fall for a man who was so driven to succeed that he worked his flesh-and-blood brother to an early grave.
Emotion had no place in business. Finn had learned this early on, the advice steering him toward the mega-success that he had become. Regardless, a surge of something—happiness, perhaps?—washed over him with each crest of a wave. He had been standing at the water’s edge for longer than he ever had, watching the rise and fall of those waves, the plunge of pelicans, and the flyover of caustic gulls. The entire spectacle had caught him by surprise. How long had it been since he had walked on the beach for the simple enjoyment of it?
Years. That’s how long.
He crossed his arms, his bare feet sinking farther into wet sand. For the first time in many months, Finn let emails wait. He hadn’t done so since, well, since Paige. In retrospect, their relationship had merely been a blip in an unending string of workdays, projects, and deals. He’d allowed himself time with her to cause a break in all of that, at least somewhat, because frankly, Paige hated his career. Disliked the travel it involved or hearing about his day-to-day dealings.
So he’d kept them from her, for the most part. Revelations had poured over him in recent months, reminders of things that he had overlooked, such as the way her lip would curl slightly when he would introduce her to a colleague. He doubted they would catch it, as he did, but it was there. Or the way she would release a heavy, yet quiet, sigh when he would ask her opinion about a potential resort site. “Whatever you want, darling,” she would say, and get back to reading her iPad.
Unfortunately, he had been too far gone with her, too much in love to notice how she would shut off when he would ask her opinion or share a moment from his day. He should have known better than to allow her to meet a playboy like Brad. A grunt flew out of him and into the wind. Brad’s father had written a song that had been re-released ninety-four times in as many ways. The man would not need to work another day in his life. Whatever those two talked about, he had no idea. Maybe they didn’t talk at all …
Lacy's Billionaire Boss Page 2
