Undercover with the Heiress

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Undercover with the Heiress Page 10

by Nan Dixon


  But he didn’t have time to worry about Courtney. His job was to set a trap for Heather.

  After walking Boyd to his car, Kaden put the ladder away. He’d better check on any fires Abby needed him to put out.

  Keeping the B and B in repair was fun. He could see why his grandfather enjoyed working with the sisters. Their work ethic rivaled his. And they smiled and laughed...a lot.

  When he stepped into the kitchen, Courtney was slumped at the table. She stared into her mug, her lips pinched together as if she was holding back tears.

  She glanced up. Sadness, shock and then cunning crossed her face. She did a slow scan of his body and a half smile played across her lips.

  Every muscle in his body strained toward her. His head, the big one, had to take control. She wasn’t his type.

  “Hel-l-lo.” The way she spun out the word sounded like an invitation to strip her naked.

  Her fantasy-inspiring black hair curled down her back. Her blue eyes sparkled. She had a body full of curves and angles that would take a lifetime to explore. And there was a brain in there, too. Otherwise she and Issy wouldn’t have beaten him and Josh at Quarto. Besides Granddad, no one beat him in strategy games, and here was this—this...princess having done just that.

  She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “How’s your day going?”

  Why was she flirting with him?

  “Busy.” He pulled out the work slips from his granddad’s cubbyhole.

  Move planters on front porch—call Bess for location.

  Check 2nd flr railing main staircase left side—needs to be tightened—Marion.

  Oil door hinges—ballroom woman’s bathroom—Marion.

  Set up 2 buffet tables and a dozen chairs by fire pit—Abby.

  Refinish end table in Julia Tyler room—Marion.

  This should keep him busy. He headed for the swinging door, passing right by Courtney.

  “How’s your grandfather?” She swirled a spoon in her mug.

  He should keep going, but he stopped. “Complaining that he wants to move home. But he’s all right. Half the women at the rehab center are in love with him.”

  “He is handsome.” She tapped the small spoon against the side of her cup and placed it on the table. “Apparently you take after him.”

  His stupid body went on alert, as if he was on surveillance and had spotted a suspect. “I thought you were working in the B and B now?”

  “I am.” A ridge formed between her eyebrows. “Break time.”

  “I don’t usually see staff taking breaks.”

  She exhaled and smoothed out her forehead. She did that a lot. “Marion suggested it.”

  He leaned a hip against the table. “Did you do something to upset her?”

  Courtney released another deep breath, her top clung to her breasts like his hands might—if he was interested. She had to know what her sigh did to her breasts tucked into that form-fitting top. He forced his gaze back to her face. Of course, that was mesmerizing, too.

  “I used the wrong kind of cleaner on the woodwork.” Her shrug had her hair falling back to her chest, and a curl looped itself around one breast.

  Jesus, Mary and Joseph. It took effort to rip his gaze back up to her face. “Were you working in the Tyler room?”

  “I never remember the room names.” She shrugged again. At least this shrug displaced the curl. “Why can’t they use room numbers?”

  “That wouldn’t be as interesting.”

  “Of course not.” She tipped her head. “How did you know where I was working?”

  “Marion wants me to refinish an end table.”

  She let her head drop to the chair back with a thunk. “I’m not cut out for this.”

  He grimaced at the sound. “For what?”

  “Work.” Her head popped up. Distress filled her blue eyes.

  He wanted to ease her pain. Stupid idea. “What did you do back in Boston?”

  “Nothing.” Her voice was small. “Sometimes I helped my mother with her charities.”

  “How do you fill your days?” Shock poured into his voice.

  She looked around. “No one knows this.”

  Interesting. “What?”

  “I volunteer at a library so I can read to kids.” She placed a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell anyone.”

  Reading to kids and not announcing to the world that she was doing it didn’t fit his image of Courtney. Wouldn’t she want people to know what a saint she was? “Maybe you should work in a library.”

  “I wish. But I’d have to go back to school.”

  “Then why not do that?”

  She grimaced. “I can’t.”

  “You won’t.” Kaden shook his head. Courtney’s lack of ambition reminded him of his mother. She’d always taken the easy path. That comparison should halt his drooling over Courtney.

  She looked at the clock and sighed. “I’d better get back. Maybe Marion’s cooled down by now.”

  “Good luck.” He headed to the basement.

  What he was learning about Courtney didn’t add up. But it didn’t matter. There was only time for one puzzle in his life—Heather.

  * * *

  MAYBE COURTNEY SHOULD check out Savannah’s library system. She missed reading to her kids back in Boston.

  Wrapping the top sheet around the duvet, she smoothed the bedding, just like Marion had taught her. She hoped.

  All she had to do was get through the rest of the day without another accident. Then she had a day off. A day to have fun. She couldn’t even smile at the idea. How much fun could she have without money or friends?

  Pressing out one more wrinkle, she chewed her lip and stepped away. That looked right.

  If only this was the one bed she had to make—but she had five more to go. And when she was done, she had to help set up for a party in the ballroom.

  She attended parties. She didn’t set up for them. At least no one from Boston could witness her working.

  When would she get back home? Mother hadn’t returned her call yesterday, but she’d sent a short text.

  Your father got the bill on the damage to your car.

  Whoops. Even though her father had already found out she’d hit the gate, her mother’s note didn’t bode well for returning to Boston soon.

  She headed to the other bedrooms, and began emptying wastebaskets and making beds. At least making beds shouldn’t ruin her manicure. She tugged off the dirty sheets. And snapped a nail.

  Fate hated her.

  After jamming her cart into the linen closet, she plodded up to the ballroom.

  Issy and Josh sat on the floor outside the main doors. Their backpacks were open and toys were spread across the carpet.

  “What are you two doing?” she asked.

  “Mom’s setting up for the wedding tonight. We need to stay out of trouble.”

  She smiled at the way his voice drew out the last syllables. “Are you staying out of trouble?”

  “I’d rather be fishing.” He shrugged. “Other kids get to fish.”

  She sat on the floor, even though she was wearing her current go-to shorts. They were no longer the pristine white they’d been when she’d packed them back in Boston.

  Weird. Since arriving in Savannah, she’d spent more time on the floor than she had as a child. “Do you have friends who fish every day?”

  “Naw. But their parents don’t work weekends, either.”

  Issy scooched a little closer and set her head on Courtney’s arm. “Read to me?”

  The girl’s voice always sounded a little like she was singing. “I need to work, too.”

  Issy handed her a book. “Please?”

  It was a Little Golden Book. “Real fast.”

>   But it wasn’t fast. Issy examined each picture, discussing every princess’s dress and crown.

  “I thought I heard your voice.” Bess swung open the ballroom door. “Can you come help?”

  It might have been phrased as a question, but Bess’s demand was obvious. Resentment bubbled inside Courtney like steam during a facial. Now that she worked for the Fitzgeralds, everyone bossed her around.

  She pushed up from the floor. “I need to go.”

  “We didn’t finish.” The girl grabbed her hand.

  Bess tapped her toe.

  “Josh, will you finish reading the book?” Courtney begged.

  “Yeah. Come here, sis.” He might have sounded frustrated, but there was love in the way he said sis.

  Once upon a time, Grayson had shown that kind of affection for her. Now, he didn’t even like her.

  “Sorry,” Courtney mumbled as she brushed past Bess. “It’s hard to say no to Issy and Josh.”

  “They’re easy to love.” Bess’s frown melted into a smile. “Let me show you what I need.”

  Kaden pushed a cart loaded with tables through the service door. His muscles bulged as he picked up tables and rolled them into the center of the room.

  Why did the hottest guy she’d met in years have to be a handyman? What would Father think about her having a crush on a man with limited income potential?

  Couldn’t happen. Father wouldn’t consider Kaden worthy of dating his daughter. But a Savannah fling before she headed back to Boston? She grinned. That might be fun.

  Courtney spread white tablecloths on the tables that Kaden jostled into place. She kept glancing his way, but he ignored her. Her eyes prickled. Since leaving Boston, she’d become invisible.

  Bess had her spread smaller pink linens on the white tablecloths she’d already laid. By the time she’d covered half the tables, her arms ached from whipping the cloths in the air.

  “Great, Courtney. Now the tall arrangements go in the middle of each table.” Bess shoved her long red ponytail over her shoulder and pointed to boxes of flowers stretching the length of the ballroom wall. It would take forever.

  Issy’s mother, Cheryl, and another woman decorated large buffet tables. Their laughter carried across the room.

  Could she be more alone? Her brother barely tolerated her. Abby wasn’t thrilled she was working at the B and B. Marion was mad. Kaden ignored her and Bess ordered her around. She sighed and headed to the first box. Maybe making beds was easier.

  Courtney could barely see around the pink gerberas and bird-of-paradise arrangement she held. Small pompom-like flowers, resembling little alien beings, brushed her nose. Didn’t the bride know this combination was garish? She placed the first arrangement, sloshing water on the tablecloth. Whoops.

  “Hang on,” Bess called. “I forgot the mirrors.” She glared at the water spot on the tablecloth. “At least that will be covered. Pick it up again—carefully.”

  While Courtney held the flowers, Bess slid a mirror in the center of the table and Courtney set the arrangement down with a crack.

  “Careful,” Bess barked.

  “The damn vase was slipping,” Courtney snapped back.

  “Just...don’t be so rough.” Bess chewed her lip. “Instead of the vases, why don’t you set out the mirrors?”

  “Sure.” Everyone thought she was incompetent. Stupid ugly vase.

  She shook her head, hoping her face wasn’t bright red. It didn’t matter what they thought. She wouldn’t be in Savannah long enough to care.

  She snatched up a couple of mirrors and set them on the closest tables, making sure her back was turned in case a tear slipped down her cheek. She wanted to be where she knew the rules, where she wasn’t viewed as some sort of...liability.

  Since Gray had come to Savannah, everything had changed. She hated it. Hated her father for forcing her to work. Her mother for failing to change Father’s mind. Hated the way Gray and the Fitzgeralds looked at her like she was...useless. Hated Kaden because he wasn’t attracted to her. She hated her life.

  Wallowing, she worked around the edges of the room, alone. But she didn’t have a choice—she had to work her way into the center. Then it was back to spreading tablecloths. Even when her mother hosted charity dinners, she’d never helped decorate.

  She carried the box of mirrors closer to the tables where she’d just laid the tablecloths. Kaden arrived with a load of chairs. How many people are coming to this wedding?

  “Abby says about two hundred,” Kaden said.

  Shoot. She’d better watch what came out of her mouth. Courtney bent and grabbed more mirrors. Cold metal smacked into her. The mirrors flew, crashing in a thousand pieces. She landed on her ass. Pain radiated up to her side. “Ooh!”

  “God, I’m sorry.” Kaden dropped the chairs he’d rammed into her. They clattered to the floor. “Are you hurt?”

  Courtney took a breath. “I’m. Not. Sure.”

  “Where did I hit you?” His blue eyes filled with worry.

  “Side.” She pointed, struggling to breathe.

  He ran his hand over each rib. His fingers brushed her breast and he didn’t react. She’d had doctors give her exams with less clinical intensity. “I don’t think anything’s broken.”

  How would he know?

  “Damn.” Bess looked at the broken glass. “Everyone okay?”

  “I bumped her,” Kaden said. “I’m sorry. I’ll pay for the mirrors.”

  Bess set her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about that.”

  Wait. Courtney grimaced. She was the injured party.

  “She doesn’t have any broken ribs.” He pushed up from the floor and held out his hand.

  “How many mirrors broke?” Bess asked.

  Courtney took Kaden’s hand. “Two, I think.”

  “Get this cleaned up,” Bess said to her. “Grab a broom and make sure you get all the shards. We don’t want people who dance barefoot to get cut.”

  Kaden touched her elbow. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  No, she wasn’t okay. Bess expected her to keep working? “I guess.”

  “Good. We’ve only got an hour.” Bess tiptoed around the glass. “I wonder who gets the seven years bad luck, Kaden. You or Courtney?”

  He laughed.

  Courtney winced as she walked to the service door to retrieve a broom. All she’d wanted was an accident-free afternoon. Instead, she got seven more years of bad luck.

  * * *

  “WHAT’S WITH THE jacket and slacks?” Granddad pushed away his scrambled eggs. “You trying to impress someone?”

  “I have a couple of visits to make.” Kaden checked the time. “Thought I’d go in professional mode.”

  He’d dedicated this morning to checking on Granddad, talking to Issy’s psychologist and visiting Issy’s day care. He didn’t like the fact that the little girl was vulnerable at places he couldn’t control.

  “You’ll be miserable.” Granddad pushed up from the table. “This isn’t Atlanta. It’s going to be hot.”

  Kaden held back a snort and eased Nigel’s walker next to him. Life was different down here, but it was hot in Atlanta, too. As they left the cafeteria, Kaden slowed his pace so he didn’t get ahead of his grandfather.

  “Are you keeping up with the Fitzgerald House work?” Granddad asked.

  “Barely. Courtney keeps me busy.”

  “Who’s Courtney?”

  “A walking demolition crew.” That wasn’t kind. “She’s Gray’s sister and is working for Marion. Screws up something every day she works.”

  “Marion and Abby won’t tolerate that for long.” Nigel grimaced. “What’s she done?”

  “Monday, she pulled up the runner on the stairs. Tuesday, she gouged a wall.” He tick
ed things off on his fingers. “Wednesday, she broke a pane of glass in a French door.”

  “No way.” Nigel shook his head.

  “Oh, yes.” Today was Thursday. What new disaster would occur?

  “Is she clumsy?” Granddad turned the corner and headed to the sunroom.

  “Clueless.” But...he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  Each time his path crossed hers, he had to force his body to keep from breaching her personal space. When he’d smacked the chairs into her, running his hands over her fascinating body had been—enjoyable. More than enjoyable. He couldn’t remember the last woman he’d touched intimately. More a comment on his dedication to work than on his love life.

  But last night he’d dreamed of touching Courtney.

  “How’s your case going?” Granddad kept his voice low.

  “I’ve installed the security cameras at the B and B. Otherwise, quiet.”

  There were rumblings that Bole and Salvez had met with one of the Madré cartel’s lieutenants back in Atlanta.

  Obviously, Heather was moving up in the drug dealing world. Maybe she’d taken out her old partner. Maybe Salvez had done that for her. Kaden wanted them both behind bars. If nothing else, it was criminal that Heather allowed her daughter to be near that kind of life.

  “Keep Isabella safe.” His grandfather settled into a chair in the sunroom. “She’s precious.”

  “I will.” Kaden pulled over a footrest. “You sure you don’t want to nap before your PT?”

  “Spending time in my room makes me feel like I’ve got one foot in my grave.”

  Kaden’s heart jolted. “Your room is there so you can rest.”

  “I’ll rest out here.” Nigel pulled up his bad leg and set it on the footrest. “I could go home now.”

  “The doctors haven’t cleared you to return home.” Kaden asked, “How would you get around the bungalow?”

  “I’d manage.” Granddad rubbed his thigh. “I want to see my house.”

  “I’ll run down there after my appointments and grab your mail.”

  “Doris brought the mail yesterday.” One of the neighbors.

 

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