Glancing over at Annie, now seated with her daughter, Lacy understood all too well the value of having a friendly face in your corner. It took the edge off the lonesome. Yesterday at the picnic, she’d only wanted to show her sister that Cal liked her, and why couldn’t Annie like her, too?
Tugging her focus from across the restaurant, Lacy replied finally, “Nothing. It was about nothing.”
“Nothing?” Aunt Frannie wiped hands together and then across her apron front. “I’ve seen nothing and that ain’t it.”
Lacy looked up, met with a reproach tampered by love. “Annie hates me, pure and simple.”
“Your sister doesn’t hate you. She just needs time to readjust to your being here, is all.”
“Hmph.” Lacy slumped back against the booth. “You don’t know Annie, then. That girl can hold a grudge longer than a dog with a rib bone.”
Aunt Frannie patted Lacy’s back. “Don’t you fret, child. She’ll come around, you watch and see.” Staring down her nose, she added, “Now eat your okra, young lady. You need to put some meat on those skinny bones of yours.”
Lacy nodded. Aunt Frannie returned to the kitchen and she returned to her plate of okra. If she had somewhere to go, she’d leave this instant. Storm right out of this restaurant and show Annie how little she cared about her silly outburst.
But she didn’t. She had nowhere to go, and that was her problem.
“Mind if I join you?”
The deep masculine voice startled Lacy. She snapped her head up and found Malcolm Ward peering down at her with an easy, friendly smile. The shock of white hair still surprised her when she looked at him, so at odds with his pale blue eyes and tanned skin. His body was lean and fit, not appearing a day over forty. At the picnic he’d been dressed in navy linen shorts and white silk T-shirt. Today he wore blue slacks and a pressed gray shirt, a steel gray that underscored his hair and eyes. Clearly, in spite of his hair, Malcolm was young, vigorous, sleek and sophisticated.
“Looks like you could use some company.”
Ignoring the jump of her pulse, Lacy gave a quick nod. “If you want.”
“I very much want,” Malcolm replied, and lowered himself to the bench seat across from her. Sliding the napkin-rolled utensils aside, he asked, “You okay?”
The earnest look in his eyes served to massage her spirit. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I saw your sister. She didn’t seem too happy with you.”
“Annie doesn’t seem to be happy, ever.”
“Does she always take it out on you?”
“Yes.” No. Lacy nibbled her lip. She could use an ally right about now. Reaching for her coke, she decided to share, “She’s a bit stressed. We haven’t seen each other in a long time.”
“I remember.”
Lacy paused. “That’s right. You know Delaney.”
“I saw you at the picnic yesterday.”
A quiet understanding passed between them. Of course he knew everything. She stole a glance at him, then averted her gaze to the safety of her glass. He knew about her troubles with Annie, Jeremiah—everything. Witnessed her exchange with Annie and Cal Foster.
“I missed you after you left.”
She stared at him. “Missed me?”
“You left rather abruptly. I was hoping we’d have some time together, maybe a dance or two.”
A torrent of desire blasted through her, permeated by resentment. She would have loved to dance with Malcolm—if only Annie hadn’t spoiled her afternoon. And Cal. He didn’t even stick up for her. Lacy dropped her gaze. So much for that friendly face she’d been hoping for. He’d been friendly until Annie showed up.
“Ever find out what your friend Loretta and the boy were up to the other night?”
“No.” Lacy looked up. “How could I? I was talking to you, remember?”
“I remember,” he said, pleasure swamping his expression.
A thrill skipped through her breast. Lacy took the napkin from her lap and patted her lips, hiding the smile tugging at her mouth.
“But don’t you two talk? You said you were friends, right?”
“In Atlanta,” she said matter-of-factly, replacing napkin to lap.
“And that friendship doesn’t extend to Tennessee?”
Lacy reached for her coke and sipped. “Oh, course it does, but it’s like I told you. I’ve only seen her that once.” And at the diner, earlier in the day, when Loretta must have been making plans with the boy. In case Lacy had missed the connection, Aunt Frannie sure had given her an ear full about it.
Malcolm interlaced his fingers, his well-manicured nails drawing her attention momentarily. Elegant hands, they appeared refined for a man. She wondered if he had them professionally manicured.
“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” he asked.
“No. What?”
“You seem pretty easygoing with your ex, Jeremiah. You’re friends with his current girlfriend. I don’t know too many women who would be.”
Lacy gave him a queer look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he ventured. “Bad blood, bad breakup, it happens.”
“Oh, poo.” She stirred the straw through her drink. “Jeremiah and I split six months after we arrived in Atlanta. He didn’t care. I didn’t care. Why be mad?”
Malcolm grinned. A group of businessmen passed by their booth en route for the lunch counter, each one stealing a glance at the woman seated across from him. She was definitely eye candy in her silk turquoise blouse, the V-neckline revealing her creamy white cleavage. Lips glossed in pink and her makeup applied to enhance the blue of her eyes. More than a looker, Lacy was a rare bird. And exquisitely rare bird.
“You never felt like he took advantage of you?”
“Heck, no,” she tossed out. “I went with him willingly. I wanted to leave Tennessee back then in the worst way, and Jeremiah was my ticket out.”
Malcolm nodded. He wanted to ask about her family, wanted to know what would drive a seventeen-year-old girl to run away, hook up with a man who slept with her sister only to leave him six months later. She would have been too young to work in the lounge at that age. How did she survive? From what he’d gleaned, looking into her history, Lacy had quit her job at the lounge to come here. Up and left, the manager said, without giving notice. He was not pleased about it, either, informing Malcolm there would be no referral coming from him.
Studying the woman across the table, Malcolm considered she might be at a crossroads in her life. None of his research into her background turned up trouble. No arrests, no drugs, no violations of any kind. Unless they were sealed in juvenile court, Lacy Louise Owens had no record with the law. She’d merely “popped” back home for a visit. Because her ex-boyfriend and girlfriend had decided to do so?
“So how long are you in town for?” Malcolm asked.
She hesitated, as though debating the answer. “Oh, I don’t know. For a while.”
“A while? Your boss back at the lounge okay with that?”
“You have a good memory, Mr. Ward.”
He laughed at her cooled response. “I have to. Running a hotel chain demands it.”
“Is it fun?”
“Is what fun?”
“Working in a fancy hotel? Aunt Frannie told me that you build really nice hotels.”
Amazed by the quick spin in subjects, he nodded. “Remind me to thank her for the compliment, but yes, it’s fun. One of those jobs I enjoy every day of the week.”
“I bet I’d like working at a hotel, meeting new people all the time, talking to them about where they’re from, what their hometowns are like...”
He smiled, intrigued by her guileless nature. It was as though he were discussing business with a child, a girl who had no idea about the world around her but seemed fascinated by it. Had Lacy ever been to an upscale hotel? She worked in Atlanta. He couldn’t imagine she hadn’t been exposed to the finer things in life. His gaze dropped briefly to her chest, the th
in cotton material outlining her curves to perfection. Why, men would fall at her feet for a chance to show her the town.
Returning his focus to her, he said, “If you’re interested, I could get you a job with Harris Hotels.”
“You could?” she asked, instantly bubbling with interest.
He winked. “I happen to have connections.”
Lacy realized he was teasing and withdrew her enthusiasm. “Oh, of course.” She reached for her soda and sipped. “How silly of me.”
And peculiar. Lacy couldn’t be a neophyte when it came to life, yet she came across as naïve. It was a trait he continually had to wrap his mind around. Actually, what he wanted was to wrap his arms around her. “I bet the guests would love you.”
That hit the mark. “I would love them,” she said, almost starry-eyed as she re-emerged from her shell.
“Then it’s settled. If you’re here when Serenity Springs opens her doors, you have a job as the official guest-greeter.”
“Serenity Springs?”
“That’s what Nick and I have decided to name the hotel, after the natural springs on the property. Serenity is the feeling our guests will experience during their stay, take with them upon their departure.”
“Serenity Springs,” she repeated dreamily. “I like it.”
“If Jeremiah doesn’t succeed in interfering, that is.”
“Jeremiah?”
“Yes, he’s stirring up trouble, just like you said he would.”
Malcolm watched the calculations fire through her brain, her mind whirring at high speed. “Can you stop him?”
“Sure, if we know where he’s coming from, what his weak spots are.”
“What do you mean?”
“As it stands, Jeremiah can challenge Felicity’s ownership, though I don’t think he’ll have much success in court. If Annie joins forces with him though, he might have a better chance.”
“How so?”
Malcolm glanced askance and lowered his voice to prevent eavesdropping from neighboring booths. One thing he did know about small towns was people talked. They listened, repeated and talked and talked and talked. One afternoon at the lunch counter and he learned more about the townsfolk than he cared to know!
“From what I understand, Casey is Jeremiah’s daughter.”
“That’s what she claims,” Lacy told him, “but it’s never been proven. Jeremiah certainly won’t claim her.”
“No?”
Lacy shook her head, a hint of shame entering her gaze. “Jeremiah is as selfish as they come. He has no desire for children. None. Zippo. Not long after we moved to Atlanta, Annie tried to get him to acknowledge Casey as his daughter, but he shut her down. Refused her flat.”
Nice guy, Malcolm mused but kept the observation to himself. Lacy didn’t appear too pleased with her role in the matter, either. Perhaps she could redeem herself by helping him and Nick. If anyone knew how to get to Jeremiah, it would be her.
“Well,” Malcolm pretended to think aloud. “If they do join forces, it might prove harder to defend. Now, if we had something on Jeremiah to use as leverage, it would be helpful.”
“Leverage? What do you mean?”
“You know, something that could be held over his head as a reminder that he doesn’t want to mess with us. I’ve looked into his background in Atlanta and he seems pretty clean.”
Lacy’s face lit up. “Oh, you won’t find it in Atlanta—Jeremiah’s problems are in Vegas!”
“Vegas?”
“Sure. He’s got a bit of a gambling problem—in that he doesn’t know when to stop.”
Hope blazed anew. “Really?”
“According to Loretta, the man can’t keep enough money in his pockets to leave a trail of pennies to the front door. He gambles and he gambles big. Actually, he owes money to a casino out in Vegas.” Lacy pushed her plate aside and leaned forward. “And from what I can figure, it’s a pretty fair amount.”
“Jeremiah has an unpaid marker?”
Lacy shrugged. “I don’t know about a marker, but he borrowed a lot of money from the casino so he could gamble and then lost it all. He can’t pay it back.”
Malcolm beamed. God, he could kiss her right now. An unpaid marker amounts to a felony which carried a prison sentence. Nevada was the only state to allow casinos the right to go after a guy for spending their money, and his friends took the privilege pretty seriously. They would hunt Jeremiah down until they got their money and if they didn’t, they’d throw his butt in jail. Tapping back his excitement, he asked, “Are you sure about this?”
She nodded, seemingly unaware of the gold mine of information she was providing. “It’s one of the reasons Loretta said they were coming to Tennessee. Jeremiah needs money.”
Malcolm chuckled. It was beautiful.
“What’s so funny?”
Staring across the booth at Lacy, he thought, She’s beautiful. “You struck gold, Ms. Owens.”
“I did?”
“You did.”
Lacy’s attention jumped to the door. “Don’t look now, but we have company.”
Chapter Twelve
Malcolm turned, expecting to see Jeremiah, but instead was treated to Tennessee’s latest budding romance. Troy hung by the door, scanning the restaurant as he held it open for Loretta to pass through ahead of him. The boy’s gaze stilled and Malcolm followed his line of sight, tracking his point of interest. What do you know? It was young Casey Owens.
Loretta spotted Lacy and waved. Lacy waved back, even as she quietly told him, “I hope they don’t come over and sit with us. That’s all I’d need, Annie thinking I’m cavorting with the enemy!”
Malcolm returned to the couple in question, unavoidably settling on Loretta’s breasts. Ample cleavage spilled from the tight yellow shirt she wore, her legs long and lean as they extended beneath a short black skirt, her calves strategically enhanced by four inch heels. She was a good-looking woman, no two ways about it. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think they have any interest in us.”
“You’re probably right,” Lacy replied, but her blue eyes remained fastened on the duo’s every move.
Malcolm watched them secure a table on the opposite side of the restaurant. Troy seemed uncomfortable, though he worked hard to cover it, squaring his shoulders as he steered his woman about. He avoided eye contact with anyone as he slid into the booth across from Loretta, his back to the wall.
“Do you want to order lunch?” Lacy asked him, drawing his attention back to her.
“Haven’t you eaten?” he asked, indicating her plate of food.
“Not yet. That was only a snack my Aunt Frannie made for me.”
Malcolm raised his brow. A snack left untouched. “Lunch sounds great. I’m always up for some good old-fashioned home-cooking.”
She beamed. “Two orders of fried chicken?”
“You bet.”
“I’ll go tell Aunt Frannie. Can I get you a coke?”
“A soda would be great.”
Malcolm watched Lacy swing out of the booth and breeze into the kitchen, his interest split between her body and Troy’s lunch table. What was he doing here with that woman? Was the kid trying to broadcast his disrespect for the Ladd family around the entire town? First Whiskey Joe’s and now Fran’s? If Delaney or Felicity walked in and saw him, Malcolm didn’t have to guess what would transpire next.
It was exactly the boy’s audacity that concerned Malcolm. He pulled the cell phone from his pocket and dialed Nick’s number. Add the new information he’d received on Jeremiah, and the two of them had to come up with a plan and fast.
Nick answered on the first ring and Malcolm dipped his chin as he spoke into the phone. “We need to talk.”
Armed with knowledge of Clem’s whereabouts, Jeremiah drove straight to the diner. If Loretta didn’t have any news for him, so be it. He would find out everything he needed to know from one Clem Sweeney—though he still couldn’t believe it. Clem kidnapped Delaney? By himself? Jeremiah
chuckled. He didn’t think the hound dog had it in him. But maybe things had changed since high school. Back then, Clem was as scrawny as an abandoned mountain dog and couldn’t hurt a flea, let alone kidnap the feistiest female this side of the Appalachian Mountains. Had the world turned upside down since he left town?
Slowing to a stop outside the front door of Fran’s Diner, Jeremiah noted the building hadn’t changed a bit since the last time he’d seen it. Still had a curved entrance and block windows. The blue paint had faded, the red neon-lettered sign remained the same loopy style of the fifties. Did the old lady spend a dime on the place? Never did when her husband was alive and probably didn’t spend a cent now. But Fran had always been cheap. When he and his buddies worked the kitchen, she’d paid minimum wage and disallowed overtime. There had been no argument, no room for discussion. She refused to pay the boys a nickel more. It was a wonder she’d stayed in business all these years.
Jeremiah ignored the yellow-orange “no parking” lines painted across the pavement and jumped out of his truck. Tow the heap of garbage, if you want. He smiled to himself. I’ll be getting a new one right soon. Bells clanged loudly as he yanked the glass door open, forcing an elderly couple on their way out to move over as he passed them on his way inside. The joint was hopping, not a single table available. Several people waited by the hostess stand, a few more circled around the pie case. Damn...
Old Fran must he pulling in a mint with this place! In the back corner he glimpsed Annie, a teenage girl sitting across from her. Was that his kid? By the looks of her black hair and blue eyes, she resembled nothing of him, but he couldn’t care less. He spotted Lacy, with a man in tow. Jeremiah shook his head. No surprise there. That one never did spend much time alone. The customer he was looking for was an obvious stand out, her blonde head of hair unmistakable, even from behind.
Jeremiah walked over and giving the Parker boy a cursory glance said, “Let’s go, Loretta.”
She whirled in her seat. “Jerry!” The boy hit him with a hardened gaze. “What are you doing here?” she asked, but wasted no time scooting out of the booth. Straightening her shirt, she glanced about their immediate vicinity as though someone might recognize her or overhear.
Ladd Fortune Page 11
