Taking Over the Tycoon

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Taking Over the Tycoon Page 22

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  That didn’t mean, however, that he could stop dwelling on their failed romance. And he was still mulling over his myriad experiences at Paradise Resort when his mother and two sisters came to see him Saturday at noon. They wanted him to go to lunch with them.

  He wasn’t interested.

  There was one thing, however, he wanted to know. Connor picked up the sand-encrusted cotton cap he had laid on a pile of old newspapers, for lack of a better place, and looked at all three woman. Surely, one of them would have the answer. “Do you know how you’re supposed to clean hats like this? Do you send them to the dry cleaner or…?”

  Iris shrugged before he could even finish his question and, as beautifully dressed as always, in a pencil-slim gray skirt and white cardigan set, said, “Honestly, Connor, why bother with that? Why not just get a new one?”

  Because this one is special, Connor thought.

  “I agree with your sister. That looks like something you picked up off the beach,” Charlotte said with a perplexed frown. And since Connor had always been a sophisticated man about town, his mother really didn’t understand what he was even doing with a red-and-gray Carolina Storm cap. Since the hockey team was located in North—not South— Carolina.

  “It’s actually pretty new,” Connor said. Less than a week old, in fact.

  “Could have fooled us,” Daisy teased.

  “Yeah, well, it was left out in the storm the other night,” he told her.

  “I’ve never known you to form an attachment to caps like that,” Charlotte continued with a puzzled look. “Especially one with paint splattered on it.”

  Daisy folded her arms and regarded him speculatively. “Maybe this one has special significance.”

  She was right. It did. It was the hat he’d worn the entire week he had been out at Paradise Resort with Kristy. It was the hat he’d worn in an attempt to fit in with her and her girls, the hat that had made him feel less like a wealthy scion and self-made tycoon, and more like a regular guy who had real husband and father potential.

  “In fact,” Daisy continued, tilting her head to study it from another vantage point, “I think I might even recognize it—”

  Connor cut her off before she could make the connection out loud. He knew Daisy had seen him wearing it at the resort the day she’d come out to take pictures for Kristy’s brochures. “All I want to know is how to get it clean enough to wear again,” he said in exasperation.

  “Oh, well, that’s easy,” Daisy said, with an airy wave of her hand. The only one of the Templetons to reject their blue-blooded lifestyle out of hand, she had long worn casual gear. “You just put it in the top rack of your dishwasher and run it through the wash cycle. Then take it out and let it air dry on your counter, so it doesn’t lose its shape. Although I have to tell you I don’t think the paint is going to come out.”

  “That’s okay,” Connor said. He didn’t mind the specks of green, blue and white paint on the cap, as those brought back happy memories, too. The fact that he had been a part of the transformation of one wing of the lodge.

  Charlotte and Iris turned to Daisy in stunned amazement. “How do you know how to wash a cap?” they asked in unison.

  Daisy shrugged and ran a hand through her wavy blond hair. “What can I say? I married a talented guy who taught me all sorts of things.”

  “And you’re happy, aren’t you?” Connor observed. In fact, she was the only one in the family who’d been blessed with the kind of man-woman love that was so strong and real it was palpable.

  “Really happy,” Daisy confirmed.

  “What’s this all about, Connor?” Charlotte asked with motherly concern.

  He held back a sigh of aggravation. He had never confided anything about his love life to the women in his family and he wasn’t about to start now. Fortunately, he was saved from replying by a knock at his loft door.

  He went to answer it. Skip Wakefield breezed in, papers in hand. Catching sight of the three Templeton women, Skip stopped in midstride. Sent Connor a hesitant look. “Obviously, this is a bad time. I can come back.”

  Connor halted Skip abruptly. “It’s fine,” he said briskly. “How did it go?”

  “The deal is done. The property and everything in it is yours, as of—” Skip consulted his watch “—thirty minutes ago.”

  “When can I take possession?” Connor asked.

  Skip handed over the title. “Immediately.”

  “What about the other problem?” Connor rifled through the rest of the documents, making sure everything was in order. It was.

  “Also taken care of,” Skip said.

  Connor took the papers over to his desk and inserted them in a manila business file. “You’re sure?”

  Skip shot a cautious look at the three women, then looked back at Connor. As carefully as if speaking in a code only they could decipher, he said, “He understands that if word of what he has done gets out, he will have no friends in this community. So he’s going to set things right, and then move on. He said something about Hilton Head, or Kiawah. I think he’s already made arrangements to look at properties in both places.”

  “Thanks,” Connor said sincerely.

  “Hey.” Skip held up both hands apologetically. “I owe you for not realizing what a mess that was going to end up being.”

  “Anyone want to clue us in?” Daisy interjected dryly. Never one to bear being shut out of a family situation, she stepped forward, propped both her hands on her hips. “Or would you rather just continue talking as if we aren’t here?” She glared at her brother.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. He hadn’t really meant to be rude, but he had been waiting all morning for the outcome of the negotiations and needed to know those things. “I just bought a house on the beach.”

  Daisy brightened at the thought. She had been after Connor to give up his city life for a while now. “Near me and Jack?” she asked excitedly.

  “No,” Connor admitted reluctantly, knowing it wasn’t going to take his nosy little sister long to put it all together. Not that he could keep it a secret, anyway. “On Folly Beach.”

  “Near Kristy,” his mother murmured, already jumping to conclusions.

  “Right next to Kristy,” Skip interjected, like the concerned friend he was. He regarded Connor protectively, once again speaking more to Connor than anyone else in the room. “Although that may not be the smartest move your big brother has ever made, Daisy, since Kristy is not currently speaking to him.”

  Charlotte touched a hand to her pearls as she, too, struggled to take it all in. “But darling, the two of you were getting on beautifully the other night at the hurricane party!”

  Iris, never one to dwell on anyone’s love life, nevertheless looked rather intrigued, too. “What did you do to tick her off?” she asked with an amused grin.

  Connor sighed. Leave it to the three women in his family to assume the breakup was somehow either temporary or all his doing. “It’s a long story.”

  Daisy beamed and sat down on the edge of the sofa. “We have time.”

  Briefly, reluctantly, Connor explained how he had kept Kristy in the dark regarding his suspicions about her obnoxious neighbor, Bruce Fitts.

  “She shouldn’t be angry at you for trying to protect and help her,” Charlotte said with maternal indignation, immediately taking Connor’s side.

  “She most certainly should,” Iris disagreed, just as hotly. “Connor had no call to treat Kristy like an imbecile! She’s a businesswoman, for heaven’s sake!”

  “Who cares whether he should have protected her or not?” Daisy said. She looked straight at her brother and commanded, like Patton addressing the troops, “Apologize to her immediately, Connor.”

  As far as Connor was concerned, he had already said what had to be said and done what needed to be done—for either Kristy and her resort, or the consortium and any new construction that might go there, if it ever came to that—by purchasing the adjacent property and getting rid of any potential troub
le from Bruce Fitts. As for the rest of it, Connor felt it was up to Kristy to cool down and come to him. Tell him she had made a huge mistake. Because he was not going to be with anyone he had made as unhappy as he had made his late wife, or be with someone who doubted his love. He had no intention of ever living that way again. “I shouldn’t have to prove myself to her,” Connor retorted, ticked off. If Kristy didn’t know who he was, after the week they had spent together, if she didn’t know he was decent and caring and gallantly motivated, she would never know!

  Daisy snorted in exasperation. She regarded him as if he was the one who was a total idiot. “Then prepare yourself for one long and lonely life,” she said.

  “GOSH, THEY LOOK HAPPY, don’t they?” Harry Bowles murmured on Saturday morning as he and Kristy finished putting all the furniture back on the lodge veranda. Kristy sank down on one of the white Adirondack chairs and watched as Susie and Sally raced back and forth on the sand, playing with their daddy’s old Frisbee. For the first time she could remember in a very long while, both girls were in shorts and T-shirts. Susie’s hair was in braids, Sally’s a ponytail, but both wore colorful ribbons. They were equally disheveled and out of breath, both giggling wildly.

  “It’s nice to see them just be themselves,” Kristy murmured. The way she had always wanted to be when she was growing up, instead of being forced into the serious, superstudent mold.

  “I wish I could say the same about you,” Harry continued, sitting down, too.

  Winnifred came out the door, pushing a serving cart. Harry jumped up to help her. Soon all three of them were sipping ice-cold lemonade and eating ginger cookies, meant for the resort-saving conference that hadn’t happened. Kristy could tell by the way Harry and Winnifred were looking at each other that they had something to say to her.

  “You may as well fess up,” she said eventually, “because I doubt it’s going to get any easier.”

  Winnifred nodded. “I’m giving you my notice today, Kristy.”

  Kristy had hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but… “I figured it was coming,” she said. Winnifred was a wealthy woman who had a very full life, aside from the work she had done at Paradise Resort.

  “As much as I’ve enjoyed being here the last week and a half, I realize Harry is right.” Winnifred reached over to briefly and lovingly touch his hand. She looked into his eyes a long moment, before turning back to Kristy and continuing, “I was never cut out to hold down a regular job. It’s true I love to cook and entertain—so much that I once attended the Culinary Institute. But it’s still merely my avocation, done primarily for family, on a whim. The work I do for charity is my career. And the past ten days I’ve been sorely neglecting that,” Winnifred concluded seriously.

  “I appreciate all your help,” Kristy said. She rose gracefully. “I’ll cut you a check for all the hours you’ve put in.”

  “When you do, please make it out to the Charleston Children’s Fund, on my behalf,” Winnifred said.

  “Will do,” Kristy said. She turned to Harry, hoping he wasn’t going to tell her the same thing, but understanding if he was. It was clearer than ever just how much Winnifred meant to him, and vice versa. “Are you leaving, too?” she asked, trying hard to respect his wishes, whatever they were, and not influence his decision either way.

  He smiled at Kristy fondly. “Not if you’re going to keep trying to turn this place around.”

  “I am.” In fact, Kristy had been thinking hard and had come up with a number of ideas about how to accomplish just that. “I have to warn you, though, it’s going to continue to be an uphill battle,” she said.

  Harry tilted his head in a devil-may-care way. “I’m up for it.”

  Footsteps sounded on the cement walk. Kristy and the others turned in time to see Bruce Fitts marching around the side of the lodge toward them. For once her florid-faced, overweight neighbor was clad in a yachting jacket, white trousers, shirt and shoes instead of his usual too-small swimsuit and gold chains. He stomped up the steps, his face set and angry, and thrust an envelope at her. “I believe you’ve been waiting for this,” he said nastily.

  Kristy had no earthly idea what he was talking about, but she took the large sealed envelope, anyway.

  Bruce adjusted the navy-and-white yachting cap he wore on his head. “It’s a check for the damage done to your palmetto trees, your house and your car, as well as a formal letter of apology.”

  Kristy regarded him evenly. He owed her this much and more. It was obvious he wasn’t making reparation because he felt a duty to. Nevertheless, there was a lot of damage that he had caused, so she would take his money. “Thank you,” she said, with as much grace and class as she could muster, knowing that even if he was a horse’s behind, it didn’t mean she had to act like one.

  “Don’t thank me.” Bruce Fitts hitched a thumb in the direction of the luxury beach house to the south of Paradise Resort. “Thank your new neighbor.”

  Kristy blinked as the meaning of his words sank in. “You sold your place?” For politeness, she didn’t want to act as elated as she felt.

  “Yesterday,” he growled. “To Connor Templeton! As if you didn’t know!” With a last indignant sniff, Fitts stomped off as cantankerously as he had arrived.

  “Hmm,” Harry said.

  “How lovely that Connor will be right next door!” Winnifred observed happily.

  Kristy wasn’t sure about that. What did it mean? Was Connor simply doing something nice for her out of guilt or obligation? Or was he paving the way for a trouble-free building project for his and Skip’s consortium, in the event that Kristy did decide, or was forced, to sell Paradise, after all?

  Curious to examine what Fitts had brought her, Kristy opened the envelope. Inside was a certified bank check that would more than cover the removal of the dead and dying palmetto trees and the cost of new landscaping, plus the damage done to the girls’ room. The letter had been written by Fitts’s attorney and was full of legal language, but the upshot was that if Kristy accepted the check as reparation, the matter was closed. No legal action would be taken by either party in the future. Which was fine with her.

  Briefly, she explained the contents to Harry and Winnifred. “Connor did this.”

  “Then you definitely owe him a word of gratitude,” Harry said.

  Kristy sighed and pushed a hand through her hair. “I don’t think Connor wants to talk to me.”

  “Since when?” Winnifred demanded.

  Recalling just how angrily they had last parted company, Kristy clamped her lips together. “Since we agreed it would be best if we never saw each other again.”

  “I can’t believe he meant that,” Winnifred stated firmly.

  Kristy had seen Connor’s face. She’d participated in the exchange of harsh words. She looked down at the porch. “He meant it, all right.” In fact, he had been as hurt, angry and disillusioned by the breakup as she was.

  Silence fell on the porch, as out on the sand, the twins continued to play.

  “So in other words,” Harry stated bluntly, as he stood and squared off with Kristy, “that means you’re not going to tell Connor Templeton how you really feel about him and want him to feel about you.”

  Kristy tensed. How was it possible they knew what no one else did—that despite the way Connor had shut her out and failed to believe in her, the way she wanted and needed to be believed in, that she was still in love with him and always would be? “What do you mean?” she asked warily.

  “Trust us on this,” Winnifred said as she laced a gentle arm about Kristy’s shoulders. “Harry and I wasted most of the past twenty years because we were too stubborn and foolish to put our pride aside and be completely truthful with ourselves and each other. And although we’ve made a pledge to stop doing that, we can’t get back the time we wasted. Don’t you and Connor make the same mistake, Kristy. Don’t stick with less than what you want, just because you’re afraid to upset the status quo.”

  Harry nodded determinedly. �
��If it’s worth having, it’s worth the risk.”

  WAS IT WORTH THE RISK? Kristy wondered. She could have her heart broken all over again. On the other hand, her heart was already broken, so what was one more loss? One more dent to her already wounded pride, when absolutely everything she had ever wanted and dreamed about was at stake? Kristy turned in the direction of the luxurious beach house south of her resort and saw a familiar black sedan pull into the driveway.

  Kristy saw Connor get out of the car and go toward the front door, without so much as a glance at the resort. She looked down at her jeans and the oversize blue denim work shirt she had on. She should go inside, change clothes, get cleaned up. But if she took the time to do that, she might lose her nerve. She turned to Winnifred and Harry.

  “Go,” Winnifred said with a gentle smile. “And take as long as you need to take. Harry and I can watch the kids.”

  Kristy swallowed around the knot of apprehension in her throat. “You’re sure?” she asked hoarsely.

  Harry and Winnifred both nodded.

  On legs that shook, Kristy walked across the porch, down the beach, past the property line and across the dunes to the beach house. Connor was standing on the deck, his hands clasping the railing in front of him. He was wearing khaki slacks and an open-collared blue shirt. His dark blond hair was windblown, and aviator sunglasses shaded his eyes.

  Without turning his glance from the waves rolling gently onto the sand, he informed her matter-of-factly, “I bought the place.”

  Was that the only reason he was here? To check out his new property before he did whatever he planned to do with it? Not to live here, as she hoped? “I know,” Kristy murmured quietly. “Fitts told me when he came to see me to make reparation.”

  With an effort, she ignored the sudden pounding of her heart. Taking a deep breath and doing her best to look as cool, calm and collected as he did, she walked up the steps, across the wooden deck to his side. He had never looked better, and a tingle of awareness swept through her as she asked, “Are you going to put it on the market?”

 

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