Jamie stayed close by most of the day. Together they played volleyball and football, and when the sun started to go down, they made s’mores and took turns telling ghost stories around a giant campfire.
For an active day outdoors with so many people, Sophie shouldn’t have been surprised when someone finally got hurt. It wasn’t full dark yet when one of the younger cousins, a ten-year-old named Ben, swung back the stick he’d been burning in the fire and accidentally hit Jamie in the shoulder. Red-hot embers crumpled off on impact, and before they could remove it and douse it with water, Jamie had a sizeable burn on his shoulder. Everyone nearby fussed over him, but when Kay, his mother, realized what happened, she swooped in and took charge.
“Jim, get that boy in the jeep; we’re going up to the house to dress that. Sophie, grab the mustard from the table and follow me.”
Sophie did what she was told, wondering about the mustard and if she should get the ketchup, too. She followed the men to the jeep, which Sophie hadn’t noticed tucked back behind some trees near one of the ATV trails. Jamie repeated over and over that he was fine, but his father only said, “Don’t argue with your mother, boy. It never works.”
Marisa got in the car, too, and drove the five of them through the sometimes muddy race course.
“Rub some of that mustard on his burn, Sophie,” Kay said.
Sophie hadn’t heard that mustard helped a burn, but she didn’t ask questions. Jamie just rolled his eyes and held back what remained of his sleeve so she could reach it. Sophie winced just looking at the angry red burn. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, putting a generous coating of mustard on the wound.
When the house loomed into view some minutes later, it was well lit and looked even more stunning in the dusk than in the daylight. Marisa led the way in a back door to a bathroom just off a mud room.
Sophie wanted to help, but found she was just in the way, with his mother and cousin fussing over him in the small space; so she took the opportunity to step a little further into the billionaire’s house. Roger had said she might be able to get a tour. Why not take a peek while she could?
She hadn’t taken more than a few steps when she saw movement outside a window. It was dark in the hallway and well-lit outside, so she could see it was Jim, Jamie’s dad, outside. He was standing near some shadows between a large barn and the house. When part of the shadow moved, Sophie thought it could be Pete the caretaker Jim was talking to.
Interesting. I wonder what the connection is there?
She followed the hallway to a magnificent kitchen that made her forget about seeing Jim and Pete outside and wished she was a billionaire. It was beautiful and huge. Some would say too big, but Sophie spent so much of her life in kitchens that the prospect of this one’s ample space for working, serving, and welcoming people was heavenly. The U-shaped, marble-topped island alone was bigger than the kitchen she and her mom shared in their San Francisco home. A pantry door in one corner called out to her like Pandora’s Box. She peeked over her shoulder, but no one was coming yet, so she gave in and opened the door. While the pantry cupboards were mostly bare—clearly this billionaire and his family weren’t home often—the pantry was as big as the bedroom Sophie grew up in. The room was oval shaped, with cabinets along the bottom, shelves that went up to the ceiling, and a ladder that slid around on a rail to reach top items.
Truly a magical piece of heaven, she thought.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Marisa had come up behind her, making Sophie jump.
“Sorry, I was curious.”
“Don’t apologize. In fact, James here is as doctored up as we can manage. It’ll be quite a while before he heals, but I think the mustard really made a difference.”
Jamie approached from behind, looking chagrined, followed by Kay. “I told you all I was fine,” he said.
“So,” Marisa continued, ignoring him and smiling at Sophie, “if you like, I could give you a tour.”
Sophie’s eyes lit up. “Really? You don’t think the owner would mind?”
“Not at all,” Marisa said. “He’s very open to people touring his house. In fact, a few days ago a young couple came by—some backpackers in a canoe, kind of sketchy-looking. I gave them a tour, they asked if they could stay, and I said, sure!”
“Really?” Sophie asked.
Jamie rolled his eyes.
“Oh, yes,” Marisa said. “I told them, pick a room, any room. And I’m assuming they did. I haven’t seen them since.”
“And … she also has beachfront property in Arizona she’d love to sell you,” Jamie said.
“You don’t know.” Marisa started down another hallway. “You ne-ver know. Are you coming, Kay?”
“No, I think I’ll sit this one out.” Jamie’s mom pulled out a comfortable kitchen chair and took her shoes off, to Sophie’s surprise. “Jim’ll be in soon. I’ll wait for him.”
Marisa led the way past a large dining room and a small sitting room before turning down a long, zigzagging hallway. Along the way, she stopped to open doors, letting Sophie peek at a huge home office with two desks, a powder room—which for some reason Sophie noticed was big enough to fit an elephant—a small library, a large bedroom, and a smaller bedroom, which was still large. All were decorated in warm woodsy colors: browns, evergreens, soft reds and oranges. Bare beams trimmed doorways and windows, and in true woodsman style, the floors and exterior walls bore polished natural wood planks, softened with a variety of area rugs. The wide windows would let natural light in during the daylight hours, Sophie thought, keeping the house bright even on Sitka’s rainy days.
They made their way up a back staircase, where Marisa took them through more bedrooms.
“Goodness,” Sophie said. “Either your boss has a lot of guests or he likes to show off. Or he has a lot of children.”
“Oh, yes,” Marisa said. “Lots of children. Do you like children, Sophie?”
Sophie glanced at the other woman before answering. She hoped she wasn’t about to be asked to babysit the billionaire’s children. “I do. I’m busy with work right now, but someday I’d like to have kids.”
“How many were you thinking—ouch!” Marisa limped away from Jamie.
“Oh, sorry,” he said. “Did I step on your foot?”
She glared at him before opening the next door. The room was large, but had no windows and looked like some sort of storage area.
“What’s this room used for?”
Jamie walked in the room and gave it a general inspection before shrugging. “I couldn’t even guess,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a room like this before.”
“This is where my boss locks up people who make him mad.”
“Really?” Jamie asked his cousin. “How do you know? Ever get locked in before?”
“Ha-ha,” Marisa said.
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Looks like it’s storage and cleaning supplies for the second floor.”
“Of course.” Marisa led the way down the hall to a large game room. “And this is where my boss goes when he plots about putting people out of business.”
“Creepy,” Sophie muttered.
“Oo-tay uch-may,” Jamie said, making Marisa smirk and leaving Sophie confused.
They had gone up the back stairs, but came down a grand, curving staircase into the front foyer. The entry was meant to impress, and it did. A large candelabra and antique table graced the center of the room, and a winding stairway broadened as it reached the ground.
“Gorgeous!” Sophie said. “I think this must be the most beautiful house I’ve ever visited. What’s this?”
To the left of the staircase stood a wooden carving about six feet high. It was native work, and the long, narrow pieces of wood twisted into shapes.
“That was made for my employer by a local tribe, as a thank-you gift. He sometimes acts as an advocate for native issues.”
“They almost look like letters … P and J. Do you see it?”
Neither Marisa nor Jami
e responded, and she looked up to find them looking at her.
“What?”
Marisa cleared her throat. “They are a P and a J.”
“What’s it stand for? Is it a tribal thing?”
“No, my boss’s name is P.J.”
Sophie looked at Jamie. What expression she could see above his beard was masked. He was waiting for her, but she couldn’t figure out why.
And then it hit.
“P.J.? As in P.J. Cohen? As in PJ’s Wholesale Warehouse—are you kidding me?”
17
“Why didn’t you tell me this was P.J. Cohen’s house?” Sophie didn’t know if she was more angry at Jamie, or hurt. “Did you think it was funny? Did you want to see my face when I realized I was admiring the house of someone I despise?”
Jamie remained silent, but Marisa’s tone stayed calm and professional. “You don’t like P.J. Cohen?”
“I do not, and Jamie knows why.” Sophie looked once more around the foyer she had just considered beautiful and inviting, this time finding it less appealing.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Marisa said. “Have you met P.J. before?”
“Of course not. He’s P.J. Cohen, and I’m … me. You don’t have to meet him to have him put you out of business.”
“What business would that be?” Marisa asked.
“My mom’s place, the Sunshine Bakery. PJ’s came in the neighborhood, and our sales got worse and worse until we lost our business.”
“In San Francisco?”
“Yes.” Sophie hugged herself, rubbing the goose bumps on her arms. “I think I’m ready to go if you don’t mind, Marisa. It’s late. Roger and Cathy probably want to head back in the boat.”
“Of course.”
She led the way down a hall, where Kay sat reading an e-reader at the kitchen island. Just as they entered, Jim came in from the mudroom.
“Got a call on the jeep walkie-talkie,” Jim said. “Sounds like Roger’s wife’s gone into labor.”
By the time the jeep arrived back at the west end of the island, most of the Platskys had cleared out, and Roger and Cathy had left for the Sitka hospital.
“It looks like your ride’s gone.” Jamie hadn’t spoken since the house. “Can I take you home?”
Sophie didn’t look him in the eye. “I’d like to go to the hospital, please.”
“Of course.”
Very little was said in the boat ride into Sitka. Jamie’s parents had decided to stay with Marisa for the moment, so while Jamie drove the boat, Sophie sat in the sheltered end of the deck and hugged her knees. The moonless night sky chilled her to the bone and felt as black as it was inside the Lost Fort. When they passed Cohen’s house, she caught herself thinking how nicely it lit up with a warm majesty high on the bank. Then she turned her back on the mansion.
They passed other islands. Sometimes lights told of homes or maybe campfires, but most were dark mounds barely discernible in the night. She felt lost among them. What were the odds that she’d end up in P.J. Cohen’s house? Just as she’d come to blame PJ’s arrival in San Francisco for her own business failure, she blamed P.J. Cohen for spearheading the mammoth, overpowering business. She wanted nothing to do with the man, much less spend time in his home.
Jamie knew where he was going, and eventually she could see the glow of Sitka in the distance.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She left her seat and stood a few feet from him.
He met her eyes, but she couldn’t read his expression. The beard whipped around in the wind. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really just thought … I don’t know what I thought. I wasn’t trying to trick you, though. I promise.”
They rode in silence the rest of the way, and back in Sitka he drove her back to the lodge so she could drive herself to the hospital in a company truck. The silence when he turned off the truck was deafening.
When he rubbed at the dressing beneath his scorched shirt, she asked, “How’s your shoulder?”
He put his hand back down. “I’ll live. Sophie, do you believe me that I didn’t mean to upset you? I really didn’t know you’d feel that strongly about it being Cohen’s house.”
“I believe you.” She fingered a loose string on her sweater. “I didn’t mean to overreact. It was just a surprise.”
“You still have strong feelings about this man, though?”
She gave him a look that told him she did.
“Okay,” he continued. “I’ll be sure not to take you back there. Actually, I have to go out of town for a while.”
Sophie’s heart sunk. “Another business trip?”
“Yes.”
“When do you think you’ll be back?”
“I leave … well, now; and I’ll be gone a couple of weeks. Maybe longer.”
“Weeks? So long? You’ll miss seeing Cathy’s baby and the bakery opening.”
“That’s not all I’ll miss.”
Jamie’s hand found Sophie’s, and maybe she really had let go of her anger, or maybe it was just the thought of Jamie leaving for so long that made her slide under his arm and nestle up to his chest. His whiskers tickled her forehead, but not for long. Jamie turned her around and kissed her, making her forget whatever it was she’d been angry at before.
“I don’t want you to go,” she said. “I know that’s silly. We haven’t known each other very long.”
“What’s long enough?” Her hair was still in a ponytail, and his fingers found their way to her exposed neck, sending happy shivers down her spine. “Sometimes it doesn’t take long to know you enjoy spending time with someone, and you want to spend more time with her, and you hate to be away.”
She breathed in a happy sigh. “You smell of the sound and campfire and mustard.”
“I guess there’re worse things,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
They stayed that way for a while, until Sophie’s phone dinged with a text. She dug it out of her bag, and her smile was radiant when she read the message. “Cathy’s had her baby! A girl, Jessie Grace, born twenty minutes after she arrived at the hospital. Whew, she barely made it.”
She showed the attached picture to Jamie, and they gazed in silent awe at Cathy and Roger’s new little miracle.
“Do you want kids, Sophie?”
So many things about Jamie sent happy shivers down Sophie’s spine, but that particular question sent off fireworks. “I do. And not just one. I want a house full. I always wanted brothers and sisters. Being the only child can be lonely.”
“Me, too,” he said. “I always wished my parents would have adopted when they couldn’t have more of their own.”
“Adoption’s wonderful, too.”
“It is.”
He kissed her one more time, a kiss that made her weak in the knees. Then he got out of the truck, walked her to the door, brushed her cheek with his hand, and was gone.
18
The Billionaire
Cathy’s baby was the sweetest thing Sophie had ever seen, and when she wasn’t busy baking, she was at Cathy’s doing laundry or dishes or vacuuming, and holding baby Jessie in between. Cathy taught Sophie how to change the baby’s diapers and even let her help with her first bath. It was the first time Sophie had fallen in love with a baby, and to the amusement of the other Platskys, she fell hard.
Things were busy at the lodge kitchen, too. Besides keeping up with the daily bread and rolls, Sophie was training Ellie and Marcy to be her kitchen helpers. They were quick learners, and the three enjoyed learning about each other’s lives while they worked together. Sophie happily anticipated spending even more time with them when the Cookie Jar opened in a week.
And on top of it all, she was preparing for the big Pioneer Home reopening order. Eleven dozen cupcakes required preparation and careful time management if she was going to have them both fresh and ready on time. She and Cathy had already agreed on flavors—salted caramel fudge, blueberry cream cheese, French vanilla, and lemo
n drop—and she’d ordered and prepped everything they would need so they could make them all on Friday. While the bakery wouldn’t open to the public for another week, Sophie and her helpers would initiate the new kitchen with the large order.
So really, she didn’t have time to dwell on Jamie’s absence or the fact that he hadn’t called or texted. She thought about him anyway but not for lack of being busy.
It was Friday morning, the day before the Pioneer Home celebration. For the first time, the Cookie Jar ovens were fired up, and the fragrant aromas of bread, rolls, and sweet cupcakes filled the little pink building. Cathy came to see how things were going, bringing baby Jessie with her.
“Do the ovens seem to be cooking evenly?” She had settled into one of the pink-striped booths to nurse. “How did the rolls turn out?”
“Perfectly, just like you taught me.” Sophie put a frosted cinnamon roll on a plate and brought it over to Cathy. “I made extra this morning so we could try them out, make sure everything’s working fine. The bread for the lodge looked good, too.”
“Did someone pick them up, or did you …?”
“Loren and Reva stopped by on their way into the lodge. I guess it was their first time here? They loved it.”
Cathy relaxed back into her seat. “I’m so glad everything’s working out.”
“It is. Everything will be fine.”
“Did you get a dress for the reception?”
Halfway back to the kitchen, Sophie stopped and spun around to face Cathy. “Why do I need a dress?”
“Uh-oh. Didn’t I tell you? This is a big community event. Formal wear. Well, formal wear for Sitka means some will come in their best denim and a bolo tie. But as a new business and one of the caterers, we need to represent.”
“And that means something formal?”
“Somewhat formal, yes. Doesn’t have to be expensive. Since it is business related, I’ll pay for it,” Cathy offered.
“No, that’s okay. I’m just going to need to plan some time to go pick up something.”
Ellie approached, wiping her hands on a towel. “There’s a dress shop in town—Carrie’s. She’s got a nice selection of dresses that work for formal, not too expensive.”
The Angler, the Baker, and the Billionaire (Destination Billionaire Romance) Page 12
