Читать книгу That Summer at the Shore - Callie Endicott - Страница 10
ОглавлениеCHAPTER TWO
JAMIE OPENED BLEARY EYES, awakened by the persistent noise from her BlackBerry cell phone.
No one, repeat, no one had the right to call before eight in the morning, particularly when she’d spent most of the night doing her silver casting. Not that anyone else knew she was short on sleep. She focused on the caller ID to see if it was her ex-husband. Tim had begun phoning her last winter, though she’d changed her cell number twice to avoid him. It was jarring to know his voice was a single button away, so she’d stopped listening to messages and never answered unless she recognized the caller.
She switched the BlackBerry off without answering and dropped a pillow on top of the landline extension. Rolling onto her side, she fell asleep.
A heavy pounding on the front door woke her an hour later. Didn’t anybody respect a woman’s right to sleep in? Apparently not, since the pounding continued. She dragged herself out of bed and donned a clean bathrobe.
Swell. It was Zack Denning and a blonde woman in a business suit.
“Coming,” she yelled over the racket, waiting until it stopped before turning the knob.
The woman was finely coiffed and sculpted, a sharp contrast to Jamie’s faded pink terry wrap and messy morning hair. It probably accounted for why Denning was staring at her. Tough. She was done with trying to impress men with clothing and makeup.
She smiled sweetly. “Can I help you? The vegetable stand isn’t operating yet, but I can put you on a reservation list for strawberries. How many flats can you use?”
Denning’s lips thinned and she could have sworn she saw a vein throbbing in his forehead.
“Ms. Conroe?” the woman queried.
“That’s me, aside from the part I left in my bedroom.”
“Please excuse us for waking you, but I’ve been calling for several days. I also tried your mobile number after my assistant got it from your business license. You never answered so I left a message, but maybe you weren’t able to get back to me.”
“If that’s a nice way of asking whether I bother answering the telephone, the reply is usually no, unless I know who’s on the other end. Basically, that means no blocked numbers. And I don’t listen to messages.”
The woman blinked. “Oh. I was working from home and should have considered that.”
Jamie tightened the belt on her robe. “Not everyone has my bias about it—and you still haven’t explained who you are.”
“I’m Kim Wheeler, Zack Denning’s lawyer.”
“You mean a macho tycoon actually hired a woman as his attorney? But I bet he was the one hammering dents into my door. Those manicured hands of yours never did anything so rude.” To Jamie’s satisfaction, Denning’s jaw clenched.
“Ms. Conroe,” he said, “you’ve delayed resolving this too long already and name-calling is hardly appropriate under the circumstances.”
“I didn’t call you a name, but I’d like to know when you think it’s appropriate to throw one around.”
“That’s...”
The lawyer’s elbow hit him in the ribs, cutting his words short. Interesting. It was a safe wager that Kim Wheeler and Zack Denning knew each other quite well.... They were the classic image of a power couple.
“Please ignore him, Ms. Conroe,” the woman said. “Mr. Denning is impatient concerning this matter since his resort is nearby. I agreed to bring him if he...”
“Kept his trap shut?” Jamie cheerfully completed the sentence.
“I told him to let me handle things.”
“Good luck.”
The corner of the attorney’s mouth twitched. “May we come in and discuss the problem regarding your property lines?”
“It isn’t my problem. It’s his. Or do you think my grandfather’s will could have been probated for a piece of property he didn’t own? This is a waste of effort.”
“Can we try?”
Jamie scrunched her bare toes and shivered. “You’ll have to wait a few minutes. I don’t argue real estate while wearing a bathrobe.”
“Wait?” Denning exploded. “So that you can duck out the rear while we’re standing here?”
The woman’s elbow slammed his ribs again and Jamie laughed. “I like you, Ms. Wheeler. And because of that, I’ll invite you—and only you—into my living room. After I get dressed we can talk without testosterone getting in the way.”
Denning started to say something, and Kim shook a furious finger in front of his nose. “Zip it,” she ordered.
Laughing some more, Jamie gathered her bathrobe close and unhooked the screen door, then secured it again once the lawyer was in the foyer. “There’s a porch swing you can use,” she offered to the glowering man outside. “Fair warning, though, the cushions may be coated with cat fur. I’ll give Ms. Wheeler a ride when she’s ready if you want to head back to your resort.”
Or I’m ready to kick her out, Jamie added silently. No, most likely that wouldn’t be necessary. She guessed that Kim Wheeler, Attorney-at-Law, would be on her best behavior.
Jamie shut the door and motioned toward the main room. “Go on in.”
“Is the furniture furry there, too?” Kim inquired with a friendly tilt of her head.
“It isn’t as bad. I regularly vacuum the house, but admitted defeat on the porch. Marlin’s fur is overwhelming in the middle of his spring shed.”
“Holy Toledo.” Kim gazed at the massive black cat lying in a patch of sunlight on the hardwood floor. Marlin stretched, lazily flexing his claws. “Is he a special breed?”
Jamie gave Marlin an affectionate stroke with the arch of her foot. “Officially, he’s a house cat. Unofficially, I heard that a panther ran away from a wildlife park and spread his genes before being caught, except that might be a tall tale. I’m not sure if there are bobcats in this region. Supposedly they can interbreed with domestic felines, so that’s another possibility.”
“Maybe he’s a mutant.”
“Could be.”
Leaving Kim to get acquainted with Granddad’s aging companion, Jamie shuffled to the bedroom and stared in the mirror, wondering what she could wear. Should she retrieve the remaining clothing from her previous life, a time when her ex-husband had expected her to wear outfits as fine as Kim Wheeler’s? She’d sold the majority through a consignment shop, but she had some left in a box at the back of the closet. The right apparel made an undeniable impact—look how she felt with Ms. Wheeler sitting on her couch, garbed in a high-priced suit.
Pulling out the box, Jamie suppressed a wave of nausea. The green evening gown on top was strapless and too taste-specific for the consignment shop. She’d worn it once, the night they went to the company Christmas dinner, the year prior to the divorce. Tim had admired how chic and sexy she appeared until they got to the banquet hall and he saw the CEO’s wife dressed in a similar color. She couldn’t have known what the woman would wear, but he’d told her if she’d had a speck of sense she would have chosen black, same as the other wives. His cold fury had made her shrivel inside.
Suddenly Jamie crammed everything into the carton and booted it across the floor. She refused to be intimidated. An expensive suit collected cat fur the same as her jeans, but jeans didn’t need dry-cleaning.
* * *
ZACK LEANED AGAINST the solid porch pillar after seeing the volume of cat fur on the cushions.
He’d supposed Jamie Conroe would be living in a ramshackle beach shack, not a large and well-maintained home from the early-twentieth-century Arts and Crafts era. It was an architectural style he liked, though he’d emulated an earlier period for Mar Vista. And it wasn’t just the Conroe house that was so striking. The north side had an incredible view across the tidal flats to the ocean, and the front boasted a restful forest scene.
A signal came over the SUV’s radio and Zack hurried to his vehicle.
“Boss, are your ears on?”
He lifted the microphone. “I’m here.”
“Your mother didn’t know whether you’d replaced your cell phone yet. She wanted to remind you that Brad is arriving. His flight lands at 11:20.”
Crap. The resort had an airstrip for private planes and chartered flights, but Brad was coming into a commercial airport, eighty miles from Warrington. Zack ground his teeth in frustration. How had he forgotten? He was the one who’d suggested Brad come to California after the doctors and therapists advised a change of scenery might be beneficial.
Zack checked his watch. “Thanks, Trudy. I’m leaving immediately. Can you send a car to the Conroe place for Ms. Wheeler?”
“I’ll call the garage.”
He signed off and dialed Kim on his cell phone.
“She’s getting dressed,” Kim said crisply. “And I’m making friends with a mutant cat. Practice patience for once.”
“Mutant? Forget it. I have to go. Brad is flying in, and I’m picking him up.”
“Great! Do you have a vacancy at the resort? I’d love a chance to visit with Brad.”
“We’ll take care of you, Kim. Listen, don’t let that Conroe woman try to wiggle out of the situation. Be firm.”
“I’m curious, Zack. When did you receive your law degree? I missed the graduation ceremony.” The light humor in Kim’s tone didn’t conceal the underlying warning. Don’t interfere. She seemed to think he’d done enough damage.
“Okay, okay,” he grumbled. “It’s just that she has a habit of talking in circles.”
“Sounds smart. She should be a lawyer.”
“I’m counting on you being smarter.”
“That’s what you’re paying me for. And wait till you get the bill for this trip—I’m adding twenty percent for the extra trouble you’ve caused. Tell Brad hello and that I’m looking forward to seeing him.” The phone disconnected.
Zack started the SUV. It was galling. He’d been required to cool his heels on a porch as if he were a delivery boy. Now he had to go before anything was settled.
He hit the accelerator until he was going the speed limit...and a little above.
* * *
KIM WHEELER RUBBED the cat’s big ears and listened to the purr rumbling from his chest.
“Marlin, huh?” she said.
“Marrooow.”
“Fur flying or not, you are magnificent,” Kim whispered.
She cocked her head, her thoughts drifting. So, Brad Denning was visiting his brother. The last time she’d seen Brad, he was en route to Iraq—the perfect spit-and-polish marine. He could have walked off a military recruiting poster. She’d met him at the airport during a five-hour layover. They’d discussed his upcoming tour of duty over dinner and she’d hidden her concern for his safety.
“Don’t forget I’m trained for this,” he’d told her—apparently, he’d seen her concern after all.
She’d hugged him and watched as he disappeared down the concourse. Brad had been in her life almost as long as Zack, and the idea of something happening to him was unbearable.
That was, what...three years ago?
And something had happened, but now he was home and slowly recovering.
Kim glanced around the room. It glowed with sunlight, satiny wood floors and cream-colored paint. Lovely paintings hung on the walls, and beautiful pottery and glassware sat in strategic spots.
A thud echoed in the house. Kim didn’t worry that another exit was being used for a secret departure—Zack wasn’t rational when it came to Jamie Conroe or Mar Vista. Kim understood his reasons, but he wasn’t helping. It would be simpler to investigate the matter without him. Inheritance was a potentially emotional subject, though Jamie had been calm when she’d made that excellent point about her grandfather’s will going through probate.
Acting as Zack’s attorney was challenging. Before she’d agreed to represent him, they’d had an in-depth discussion, which involved assurances that their past relationship wouldn’t be an issue. It had worked so far, and he probably followed her advice slightly more often than he would for someone he didn’t know as well.
Marlin shoved his nose into her palm.
“By the way,” she announced to the feline, “I’m a lawyer. Any objections to that?”
The cat shut his eyes sleepily and purred. A very un-lawyerly giggle escaped her throat. She’d met at least two people who’d taught their dogs to growl when they even heard the words lawyer or attorney.
* * *
JAMIE FOUND KIM WHEELER seated on the large, comfortable sofa. Marlin, never a slouch in demanding attention, was draped over her lap, purring like a diesel motor.
“You must be covered with fur,” Jamie said. “I’ll put him out back.”
“Don’t be silly. I think cats are great.”
“I doubt the hothead on the porch feels the same.”
Kim snickered. “That’s his problem. But it doesn’t matter anymore because he’s driving to the airport. His brother is arriving from Maryland.”
“And the jerk would have had a fit if you’d gone along.” Jamie sat on the arm of the couch and swung her legs. She was glad she’d kept Zack Denning and his bad vibes out of her home—it made maintaining peace and tranquillity easier.
“He wants to clear things up as soon as possible,” Kim said diplomatically.
“Yes, I figured that out when he asked the deputy sheriff to throw me off my own property.”
Kim frowned. “I apologize about that.”
“I’m not holding it against him. Don’t have to—it’s my land.”
“You seem quite certain.”
Jamie swallowed a yawn. She would have preferred having this debate after a decent night’s sleep. “I have a deed and it’s in my grandfather’s will—the one he revised when he sold his other parcels. The real estate he left me is the section with the house and barn, plus the acre on the beach.”
Kim removed a folder from her briefcase. “Over eighteen months ago, Zack purchased several tracts north of the road. He understood they included everything to the water’s edge. You’re welcome to see the sales agreement.”
“There’s no need. Granddad wanted to leave my brother some cash, so he sold some of the land he owned, but not my two sections. He was a romantic—that’s why he gave them to me.” Jamie smiled. She’d loved her grandfather’s idealistic streak. “My brother doesn’t have a sentimental bone in his body, which is strange. That trait commonly passes through the males in our family.”
“So you’re the sentimental sibling?”
“I don’t cry at sad movies, but I’ll keep the land, and David wouldn’t.”
“May I see the deed?”
Jamie went into her office and opened the document file Granddad’s lawyer had given her. She flipped through the contents and found both deeds. She made duplicates on her scanner-printer and took them to the living room.
Kim Wheeler studied the deed to the waterfront property. “I have to compare this to Zack’s paperwork,” she said finally. “And we may require an official survey.”
Jamie shrugged. “Fine, but I’m not budging, and the Little Blue Fruit Stand is opening on Wednesday to get the business going smoothly by the Memorial Day holiday. Granddad’s records indicate it’s a busy weekend.”
Kim tucked the copies into her briefcase. “If you don’t mind me asking, why run your business on that land? It’s on a dirt road, at the dead end of a public access. There must be more profitable locations.”
“It makes a profit, which I can use, but the stand isn’t solely about selling produce. Granddad could have gone closer to the highway, but he didn’t because he wanted to spend his days by the beach. His customers liked going there, too. It can happen that way in small towns. And he got tourist traffic, too.”
“I see.”
Jamie yawned again. “Sorry. I was awake till four.”
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“I was working—got caught up in a new design and didn’t notice how late it was. I make jewelry and market it in local tourist and gift shops.”
“You’ll have to show me your jewelry sometime,” Kim said politely. “But I should go now and let you go back to bed.”
“Don’t you need a ride?” Jamie asked.
“If I know Zack, he’s likely arranged for a car to collect me.”
“And forgot to tell you, right?”
“He’s concentrating on other things.”
Jamie tried not to sound bitter as she said, “Sure, there’s always an excuse for people acting badly.”
* * *
ZACK DROVE INTO the airport and parked. He raced inside the terminal and read the arrivals and departures boards—he wasn’t late after all; Brad’s flight had just landed.
At the security checkpoint, Zack watched the passengers greeting friends and family, or searching for the baggage-claim area. It took a minute to recognize the thin form limping in his direction. Somehow his mental picture of Brad as a healthy, muscular marine hadn’t changed, even though he’d visited his brother in the hospital. Brad still had the military haircut and neat appearance, yet the man beneath the clothing seemed shadowed and broken.
Hell, he had been broken.
But he was getting better; the therapists said so. He’d simply hit a plateau and would benefit from a fresh environment.
“Good to see you, bro.” As they clasped hands Zack tried not to reveal anything except a hearty welcome.
“I know. I look like crap.” Brad grinned wryly, obviously seeing through Zack’s effort. “I wish you hadn’t needed to drive so far to get me, but the doctor recommended I travel on a larger plane.”
“I was happy to come. Got your luggage checked?”
“A small duffel.”
“Not that small, I hope,” said Zack, and then realized he sounded overly jovial. His father had warned him to act natural—only, what was natural? Certainly not having your brother nearly blown apart by a roadside bomb. “Aren’t you staying for a while?”
Brad’s face was hard to read. “I don’t require much and I can buy more. There must be stores in town.”
“And a shop at the resort.”
“Thanks, but I’ll stick to something less grandiose. I’m sure the shop caters to your high-toned guests, not ordinary jarheads.”
“Hey, those high-toned guests pay the bills,” Zack reminded him jokingly. “But it is mostly golf gear and leisure stuff, so it may not suit you. Feel free to borrow from my closet if you can’t find what you want.”
They stopped for the duffel bag. Zack carried it easily and slowed his steps to Brad’s pace.
Brad whistled when he saw the Mercedes. “Pricey vehicle.”
“We have to provide an atmosphere of luxury. It’s part of the aura that keeps visitors returning. They come to be pampered.”
“You’re the expert.”
Settling into the passenger seat, Brad eyed him. “You seem okay. But what’s going on? Mom hasn’t gotten any emails from you for a week and she says that’s odd.”
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Zack said calmly, and realized he should send a note so it didn’t appear as if anything was wrong; his folks didn’t need to lose any more sleep. “A woman is squatting on my land next door. She has a deplorable trailer and thinks she’s going to use it to sell fruits and vegetables. Kim is here, attending to the situation.”
“What about the police?”
“Ms. Conroe claims she owns the property, and the sheriff insists it’s a civil matter. She has this way of verbally twisting things. Kim actually seems to enjoy her,” he ended in disgust.
“What’s she like?” Brad asked.
“Long brunette hair, stubborn chin...smart mouth.”
“Hmm. She’s made quite an impression on you. I’ll have to meet her.”
“It won’t be on my beachfront land if you do.”
Brad chuckled, at the same time sending him an odd look. Zack wasn’t sure how to react, so he remained silent as his brother tilted his seat back and went to sleep.
Quite an impression.
True. Jamie Conroe had done that, dragging her ugly trailer to the site and putting up those signs. He’d remembered that she was pretty, but still had thought of her as a rugged farmer type in overalls. This morning the sun had gleamed on shining, sleep-rumpled hair, and her worn pink bathrobe had sagged, revealing soft skin that sloped into very sweet curves. Not that he’d seen much. Nor was he interested.
Ten minutes passed and Brad stirred restlessly. “Sorry for flaking out.”
“Go ahead. Sleep.”
“I’m a master of cat naps. We had to grab them whenever we could in Iraq and be alert at an instant’s notice.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Brad shifted and massaged his left leg. “I appreciate the offer. Mom and Dad try, but I can see it bugs the hell out of them.”
“What about post-traumatic stress. Is that a problem?” Zack probed. The frank question was a risk, yet he and Brad had always been honest with each other, and Dad had said to be himself.
“Some. I’ve spoken with the counselors, and they think I’m handling it.”
“I’m here if you want to talk about anything.”
“I know,” Brad agreed. “Right now I’d rather focus on something different. Tell me more about this woman who’s got you so bothered. Is she attractive?”
Jamie Conroe wasn’t on Zack’s list of favorite topics, but he couldn’t refuse after offering his brother his choice of subjects.
“If I’m being honest, she’s very...attractive,” he said, picturing the woman he’d seen earlier. “Mid to late twenties. A delicate complexion, particularly for someone who works outside. And she’s got gorgeous blue eyes.” It was strange that he recalled so many details.
“You mentioned she had a smart mouth. What kinds of things does she say?”
As Zack reluctantly described some of the conversations he’d had with his neighbor, Brad smiled, finally laughing so hard that he started coughing.
“My God, bro.” Brad caught his breath in his damaged chest. “This woman really has your number.”
“I guess she knows what buttons to push. Maybe she’s a con artist.”
“Kim will deal with it. How’s she doing, anyway?”
“She’s high profile now, really in demand.”
“But how is she personally?”
“Terrific,” Zack said. “Stunning as ever. And you know Kim—she’s unflappable. The perfect attorney.”
Brad scratched his ankle. “Is she spending the night?”
“Trudy assigned her a guest room. I’d invite her to stay with us, but she draws a distinct professional line. I’m her client. She’s my lawyer.”
“That’s Kim’s style.”
“She’s looking forward to seeing you.”
Brad didn’t respond. He stared at the passing scenery and Zack wondered what he was thinking. Did it upset him to be with people who’d known him before he was injured? Zack almost asked, then saw Brad was asleep again.
As the SUV approached the resort’s entrance, Brad roused himself.
“Are we here?”
“This is it,” Zack said, hearing the pride that crept into his voice. He slowed to prolong the moment; none of the family had visited until today.
He’d spent a hefty sum on the stone entry to establish a defined border between the outside world and the place he’d created. The words Mar Vista were fastened to the stone arch in bold bronze letters. The coastal air was already putting a subtle patina on the metal.
“Mar Vista?” Brad questioned.
“It means ‘Sea View,’” he explained. “We’re in California, so it seemed fitting to have a Spanish name—something catchy and easy to remember.”
“I thought your name would go on the thing.”
“The corporation is Denning Enterprises, but a resort should have a gracious title.”
The road curved through a grove of evergreen trees and then opened to the buildings nestled on the gentle slope. Care had been taken during construction to preserve as many of the trees as possible, and the buildings were reminiscent of the great lodges built in the Edwardian era. To the north occupants had a view of the coastline; to the west was the golf course and the brilliant blue ocean.
“Lord, Zack,” Brad said, staring at the vista. “You’ve done a damn fine job.”
“I’m glad you like it. Every penny I have is riding on this, and money from the folks, too. I’m going to make it a success.”
“That’s what you’d say when we were kids and the teacher declared something couldn’t be done.”
“And I never failed to pull it off.” Zack parked in his private space and gestured. “My apartment is above the offices. You can rest or do whatever you want. There’s a garden with reclining chaises, or a pool if that appeals— Oh, and a hot tub and sauna. In the meantime, I should go to—”
“Work?” Brad finished.
“I can free up some hours later this afternoon.”
“Don’t change your routine. I’m sick of people tiptoeing around me and making special arrangements. Mom and Dad haven’t had a normal life since I came home.”
Yeah, Brad would hate that. Zack was the bullheaded son, determined to win no matter what, while his brother was the easygoing one. Few things had surprised Zack more than when Brad entered the Marine Corps. Yet he’d done well, rising in the ranks and becoming highly respected by the soldiers under his command.
He showed Brad the apartment, urged him to order from room service or one of the Mar Vista restaurants and trotted downstairs.
It was time to locate Kim and find out how soon Jamie Conroe and the Little Blue Fruit Stand would be gone.
