A Convenient Scandal

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A Convenient Scandal Page 16

by Kimberley Troutte


  When she saw who he was she squealed and then told him he’d just missed her. Michele had taken her sister to horseback riding lessons. The woman gave him the directions.

  The vultures had beaten him to the stables, too. Police had been called and they and the stable owner were pushing the photographers off the private property. When an officer asked him what business he had at the stable, he said he was there to pick up one of the riders—a woman with special needs and her sister.

  “I’m the owner,” a woman said. “I’ll let you pass if you tell me the name of the rider you are here to pick up.”

  “Cari Cox,” he replied. “Her sister is Michele.”

  The woman grimaced. “Oh, good. Michele must’ve texted you, too. I was just getting ready to call one of my stable boys to come back to work and go rescue them.”

  “Rescue them?”

  “One of the photographers opened the gate and went into the ring to get a picture of Cari, which, as you probably can guess, didn’t go over well. She doesn’t like strangers. She started screaming, the horse spooked and ran out of the gate with Cari on its back. Michele ran after them and then she got injured—”

  “Michele is injured?” His heart just about exploded in his chest. “Where is she?”

  “She texted that she twisted her ankle and can’t walk. She can’t make it to where Cari’s horse is because the terrain is steep.”

  “Where? Can I drive there?”

  “No. Can you ride?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then take my horse. She’s saddled up and ready to go. I’d do it myself but I have to make sure these nutballs don’t sneak back onto my property—”

  “Text Michele. Tell her to sit tight. I’m coming.” He would fly if he had to. He stopped telling himself lies about why he’d come to New York because he needed to hold her and kiss her pain away.

  * * *

  “That was fun! Really fast. I was like Rosie,” Cari squealed and giggled in delight.

  “Sure, laugh. It’s all fun and games until your sister nearly breaks a leg running after you.”

  “You dance funny.”

  That’s because Michele had stepped in a hole and twisted her ankle. “I wasn’t dancing.”

  Out of nowhere came the memory of Jeff’s hands on her hips at the dinner party. Now those were real moves. She shook it off. She didn’t have the time or the stamina to be heartsick. What did it matter that she missed him like crazy? He’d made his feelings clear by not returning her calls.

  “Can you give your horse a little kick and steer him toward me? I can’t hop on one foot that far. And this other one is...” She looked at her leg. It was terribly swollen already. Oh, God, was it broken? “It’s not good.”

  “My horse likes the grass here. He’s hungry.”

  “He gets plenty of food in the stables. Let’s take him back there where he can have a proper dinner and I can get some ice for my leg, okay? Come over here so I can ride with you.”

  “No. You are too heavy. Only one cowgirl on each horse.”

  Michele cursed under her breath and tried hopping on one foot. It was no good. The path was rocky and steep. Cari’s horse had found a grass-covered mesa at the top of the hill. How was she going to make it up there? Crawl?

  “Ahoy, there. Need a lift?” A voice called behind her.

  She couldn’t see the man, but she was overjoyed that the owner had sent someone to rescue her and Cari.

  “Yes! But please, don’t spook my sister’s horse.”

  It took a small feat of balance to be able to turn her body on one foot without slipping down the steep embankment. By the time she did, the horse and rider were already beside her.

  “Did someone order a cowboy from California?” he asked.

  She blinked. No. It couldn’t be.

  “You’re not real.”

  He laughed then and her heart did funny things in her chest. “Tell that to my horse.” He slid down and stood beside her. His starburst baby blues seemed to take her all in. “Are you hurt?”

  She pressed a hand to her heart.

  Oops, did he mean her ankle? “It might be broken.”

  He bent over and checked it out. When he touched her leg, she bit her lip to keep it from quivering, not entirely from the twisted ankle pain either.

  Jeff is here.

  Why? What does it mean?

  “I don’t think it’s broken, but you twisted it good. Let me help you up on the horse so we can have a doctor look at it. Do you want the front or rear seat?”

  She realized there wasn’t much room for him to sit behind the saddle. “Rear.”

  Once he got her situated on the horse, he swung his leg over and sat in front of her. She had a sudden dilemma. Should she touch him? For the moment, she kept her hands to herself.

  “My sister is over there.” Michele pointed. “She’s pretending to not see you.”

  “I can see that. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Cari, this is a friend of mine named Jeff. He’s very nice,” Michele called out.

  “The pirate!” Cari clapped her hands.

  Oh, dear. “Um. Yes.” Michele leaned over and whispered. “Sorry. Someone must have mentioned your family history. Cari’s favorite book has pirates in it.”

  He grinned. “So, Cari, how would you like to go with me and your sister on an airplane back to a pirate’s castle?”

  “Yay!” Cari cheered. “Right now?”

  “What?” Michele said. “You can’t just tell her things like that.”

  “Listen, sweetheart. It’s not safe for you two to be here by yourselves right now. I saw the paparazzi. They’re everywhere because of me. Let me fix it. If you aren’t around here, they’ll leave after a while.”

  “But, I have a life here. A job to accept.”

  “It will all still be here if you want it, but I was hoping you’d change your mind about the resignation and come back to Plunder Cove. For good. If...you’ll accept my proposition. But first, let’s go get your sister, okay?”

  She stared at his back. Proposition?

  “Okay?” he asked again.

  “I...don’t know what I’m agreeing to.”

  “Fair enough. Tiny bites. First, we rescue your sister and that fat horse.”

  “I agree.”

  “Great. But I’m not moving until you wrap your arms around me. Safety first.”

  Tentatively, slowly, she wrapped her arms around his waist. He took her hand and pressed it against his chest. Capturing it next to his heart. She could feel the strong beat beneath her palm. He felt so good in her arms, even when she knew he didn’t feel the same way about her. Her heart was cracking from the bitter sweetness of it all. She wanted to stay like this forever, touching him, breathing in his manly cologne, listening to his deep voice. Holding out hope that he wouldn’t say he didn’t love her. Again.

  “That’s better.” His voice was hoarse. “Hell, I missed you so hard. Please, say you’ll come back with me.”

  Her inhale caught in her throat. The only word she could muster was, “Why?”

  “I’m miserable without you. I still need a chef, and that job is still yours, but you deserve more. Which reminds me...” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick envelope that seemed to be full of...money? “This is yours. I had a little chat with Alfieri. He was overcome with the desire to pay you what he owed you. With interest, of course.”

  “That’s...no. Now I know you’re not real. I must have hit my head when I twisted my ankle.”

  “Does this feel real?” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckle. Then he turned her hand over and kissed her palm. “Or this?”

  “Yes,” she said softly. She felt those kisses all the way down to her throbbing ankle. It was all she could do to not beg for more. “I’m so asha
med. I should never have let Alfieri treat me like that.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart, but that’s pure bull.” He swiveled around and pinned her with his gaze. “He assaulted you with his words and actions and robbed you. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m glad you got away from him and I told him so...in something like words.”

  “You didn’t hurt him, did you?”

  “Hell, I wanted to. But I think my old camera crew will hurt him far more than I could unless he agrees to change his ways. They’ll pop in on him and interview the staff on a regular basis just to make sure he’s a kinder, gentler Alfieri. So that he doesn’t do to others what he did to you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “There’s more. I found out he’d promised you a partnership in the restaurant and that’s when the coincidence hit me. I need a partner in my restaurant while I build and run the hotel. Someone I trust. That’s my proposition. Will you be my partner?”

  She cleared her throat. “In the restaurant?”

  “What do you think? We can get the finest care for your sister and you two can live together again. It’s perfect.”

  Almost.

  “What about your wedding plans?”

  His shoulders stiffened. “RW may not like it, but if you agree to come back as my partner, I’ll break my agreement with him.”

  “You won’t get married?”

  “No.” He swiveled so she could see his face. He went on, “And you and I can focus on our careers. I can take care of you and your sister and together you and I can create the best restaurant the world has ever seen. Say yes.”

  “And we, the two of us, will be real partners? Nothing more?”

  He stiffened again. “You are much more. You are important to me, Michele. I hope you see that. I don’t want to jeopardize our...relationship, or our restaurant, in any way. I need you.”

  She sighed. He would never love her. “I see.”

  It wasn’t the partnership she’d been hoping for—it wasn’t the one she’d bet her heart on when she’d left him those voice messages—but she’d get to be with him and she’d be doing what she loved.

  She’d spent too long without what she wanted and even if he never loved her back, she would take everything he’d give.

  “I say yes.”

  She put her head on his back, breathed in his most excellent manly smell and took a second to notice all the places they were touching.

  Just then Cari’s horse decided to come down and join theirs.

  “Weeeee!” Cari said. “Let’s go to the pirate castle.”

  Twenty

  The day arrived. Finn had been invited to Casa Larga to see the restaurant and taste some of Michele’s new creations. RW knew the bastard would come. Finn owed him.

  RW met him in the circle of the driveway. When Finn got out of the limo with a swagger, RW’s blood boiled.

  “Hello, old friend.” Finn held out his hand.

  RW took it and shook, but then he squeezed, dug his nails in and refused to let go until he had Finn’s full attention. “You were only supposed to threaten him. Convince him to leave the television show and come to work for me. That was the deal.”

  Finn squinted and yanked his hand back. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “I didn’t tell you to attack my son,” RW snarled.

  Finn shrugged. “Attack him? I sent my best girl in there. Jeffrey was the one who went ballistic. What in the hell is the matter with him?”

  “Nothing,” RW said.

  The problem is mine.

  All RW wanted was what was best for his son. Creating hotels was in Jeffrey’s blood, in his heart. RW had done everything he could to convince Jeff to design the hotel at Plunder Cove, but that damned show, Secrets and Sheets, got in the way. RW had taken drastic measures to put an end to it by asking Finn to nudge Jeffrey in the right direction.

  That had been a mistake.

  RW was heartbroken to see that he’d been responsible for Jeffrey’s internal struggles. It all stopped now.

  “I want the videos and the photos to end. Hear me? You are done,” RW said through gritted teeth.

  “I hear nothing but hot air whistling in my ears, Harper. I’ll stop when I have the episode he filmed of my hotel. That’s my deal.”

  RW’s hands clenched into fists. Rage pounded behind his eyeballs.

  Chloe came out the front door, effectively ending the clandestine meeting. “Mr. Finn! Welcome. Please follow me to the restaurant. It is not finished yet, but the kitchen is fully functional and we have seating in the courtyard.” She guided him to a comfortable table next to the firepit. “Enjoy!”

  * * *

  Jeff walked outside to the patio. “Finn, I can’t say I am happy to see you.”

  There was a loud crash inside the unfinished restaurant. A drill, somewhere around the back of the site, made a horrible grinding sound followed by cussing.

  The commotion made Finn grin. “Your restaurant is just as I imagined it.”

  “We’re still getting the kinks out.”

  “I can only imagine that your hotel will be just as kinky.” Finn picked up his cell. “I’m going to film this meal and Tweet it.”

  “Great.” Jeff hoped Michele was ready. “Red or white wine?”

  “A glass of each.”

  “Of course.” It was a struggle not to grab the man by his collar and throw him out, but Dad had a plan—something he hadn’t completely shared with his sons.

  Imagine that.

  Finn was working on both of his wine glasses when Michele softly called, “Order up.”

  Jeff picked up the plate. Michele had made her signature chicken cacciatore but the sauce was better than Alfieri’s. Michele had fed him an early spoonful and he thought it was the best thing he’d ever tasted—next to Michele’s lips. He missed her mouth and running his hands over her body.

  Finn took a bite and rolled his eyes. Overwhelmed, he mumbled, “Holy crap. It’s better than sex.”

  Jeff lifted his eyebrow and Michele nodded. They’d heard Finn all the way in the kitchen, since RW had bugged the table.

  “Round two,” Jeff said before he left the kitchen.

  “Give him a knockout punch for me.” Michele winked.

  Damn, she was amazing.

  Having her as his partner in the restaurant should’ve been a dream come true. She was the perfect, hardworking professional who created the best meals he’d ever eaten. If anything, she was too perfect, too dedicated. He was the one who had trouble focusing with her so near. He longed to sweep her away and find quiet moments for just the two of them. But he didn’t, because they’d made a deal and he was determined to hold up his end of it. No matter how much he hated it.

  A professional relationship with Michele wasn’t enough. For the first time in his life, he wanted more. Something big was pounding inside him, burning to get out, struggling to have a voice to tell her what he probably knew all along—he wanted Michele. Forever.

  He doubted she’d ever want him. Not after he’d let her walk away. He should have fought for her, begged her to stay in his life, instead of offering her a simple partnership. It wasn’t enough. He’d blown it.

  To Finn, Jeff said, “How’s it going? More water? Another bottle?”

  “More food. This is the best damned meal I’ve ever had.” Finn shook his head, his eyes already having trouble focusing. “You did something right. Your chef is brilliant.”

  “I agree. But she is more than a chef. She’s my partner. The best part of me.” He hoped she heard that.

  “Bully for you. What’s for dessert?”

  “Get ready, because Michele’s tiramisu is the best, sweetest thing you will ever taste. She has her own secret spices from Italy plus a rare organic cocoa from a small farm in Ghana. You will swear you have died and gone to h
eaven.”

  “Enough jaw-flapping, Harper. Bring it on!”

  Absolutely, you arrogant prick.

  He went back into the kitchen. He’d done his job sparring with the man; it was time to let his dad deliver the final blow.

  RW sat at the table across from Finn. “Enjoying your meal?”

  “I have never tasted anything like it. Such a pleasurable surprise. Where did you find your chef?”

  “Jeffrey found her, not me. But I’m going to tell her not to serve you anything else unless you stop releasing clips from Jeffrey’s sex tape.”

  Finn snorted. “You call that a sex tape?”

  “What would you call it?”

  “I don’t know. A Photoshop masterpiece? It’s flawless. I dare you to find anyone who can tell where I sliced the sections together.”

  “What about the woman? Is she really a maid?”

  “No. She’s one of my best hookers. Gorgeous tits. Sweet ass. She really brings in the dough, so I only charge her a small referral fee.”

  “Pimp commission, you mean.”

  Finn sipped his wine. “Tomato, tomato.”

  Listening in the kitchen, Michele sucked in a breath. “Did you know Finn ran a brothel in his hotel? ”

  “Some of the employees I interviewed hinted at something going on behind the scenes,” Jeff said. “He’s a real creep.”

  “And he made it look like you had the sex issues! I can think of stronger words than ‘creep.’”

  They continued to eavesdrop on the conversation outside.

  “Interesting discussion,” RW said. “So now that I’ve fed you a great meal by Chef Michele Cox and let you be the first to experience this amazing up-and-coming Plunder Cove restaurant and hotel, I want to ask you nicely to stop blackmailing my son.”

  Finn shrugged. “No can do. I haven’t gotten what I want yet. Wait until you see what I do with the next segment of video. With a little cut and splice wizardry, the world is going to think your son is one twisted sucker.”

  “Why are you doing this?” RW growled.

  “You know why. He still hasn’t televised how fantastic my hotel is. I need people to believe it’s perfect. There’s a lawsuit breathing down my neck.”

 

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