Hope laughed, not smiled, not grinned, laughed. A beautiful sound that hit Brad hard in the gut. “Thank you again.”
During the short ride to the hotel, Jason talked nonstop about his friend and baseball, and, with every mention of anything related to the sport, Hope tensed in her seat. Something wasn't right. What could she possibly have against baseball? What else was he missing?
***
"Are you seriously that daft?" Ava Maplewood leaned forward in her seat.
Apparently Brad was, and his hostess was about to give him a clue. After taking Hope to the hotel to hand over her keys to the mechanic, making sure the guy was as good as John suggested, and then dropping her and her son off safely in their apartment, his phone had rung.
Since Ava was eager to hear how his first day of work had gone, she and John had hurried home from dinner at her mother’s and invited Brad over for coffee or a night cap.
It hadn’t taken long to share the issues and concerns from the hotel—though it had taken Ava a while to stop laughing at bedmaking 101—when he'd moved on to Hope, her car, and the baseball thing. Whatever he'd said had lit a fire under his best friend's wife.
"You'd better lay it on him," John suggested to his wife at Brad's silence.
"First, you two men will get an earful from Hope if she ever finds out how you're working behind her back. I cannot even begin to fathom what her reaction will be when she discovers that Brad Kane is really Bradford Peyton.”
Brad opened his mouth to protest, but Ava held out her hand to silence him.
"I know you’re supposed to be undercover but that’s work. Fixing cars and pizza dinners is an entire different thing and you don’t lie to a woman about who you are or how you’re helping her.”
“I—“
Ava’s hand remained palm out in his face. “Second, I know it seems small to you, but, from what little you've said, she clearly is a woman who works hard to provide well for her son, and she won't take kindly to what she perceives as charity."
"It's not charity," the two men echoed.
"I'd help you two if you needed me," Brad added.
"Whatever." Ava sighed, slapping her arms at her sides. "But if you figured out car repairs would strain her budget, how can you not get that she probably doesn't have a budget for Little League?"
"Budget for baseball?" Now Brad was really confused. "What's to budget? Twelve kids, one bat, a few balls."
Ava rolled her eyes, and Brad could see the steam building. "I keep forgetting how clueless you guys can be to the real world. Okay." She inched farther onto the edge of her seat. "First, there has to be a registration fee. It could be fifteen dollars or fifty. I don't know, but I guarantee, whatever it is, it's not in a single-mom's budget. Then there's the equipment her son needs. She'll have to buy him shoes—"
"It's Little League. He won't need cleats," John dared to add despite his wife's glare.
"All the little boys will have new shoes for baseball. They won't be playing in the shoes they wear to school. She'll have to buy Jason a pair as well. And a uniform. More money she probably doesn't have. And then a glove."
Brad was doing the math in his head. No matter how he ran the numbers for an eight-year-old, Brad wasn't coming in at much more than one or two hundred dollars.
"Being on a team comes with team activities. Practice. Who's going to get him to and from practice? Is it while she works?"
Brad shrugged.
Ava shot him a see-what-I-mean look and continued talking. "Teams who play together tend to eat together. After practice maybe but after games definitely. So now she has to add eating out once or twice a week to her budget. And she'll have no control over where they go, but my guess is somewhere with entertainment for the boys, which means more money to spend so he can participate."
The ten-dollar bill Nick Harper had forked over for a few minutes of playtime came to mind. Nothing to Brad, but he was starting to understand that, every time Hope nibbled on that lower lip of hers, she was adding up the dollar signs in her head. Ava was right. He was daft. But the real question was, now that he understood, what was he going to do about it?
Chapter Seven
Hunched over her desk at work, Hope disconnected the call and stared at her phone. "I don't get it."
"What don't you get?" Nina asked.
"This mechanic. I thought maybe he was just being nice, not charging for the towing, because he knew he'd make up for it with the work today."
"Sound reasonable," Nina agreed.
"He says he has a used starter that came with some parts another client paid for but didn't use. All he's asking is $100 for labor. He'll deliver the car for me this afternoon if I want him to do the work."
"A hundred dollars? What's the guy's name and number?"
"Yeah. Like I said, I don't get it."
"Who cares! Tell him to fix the car and light a candle at church on Sunday to thank the Lord."
"I did. Tell him to fix it, that is."
"So why do you look so unsettled?"
"I don't know. I guess you're right. I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth." The office phone rang, startling Hope out of her thoughts. "Housekeeping."
"Keith wants all department heads in the lunchroom now," Sandy informed her. "He says not to freak. It's not bad news."
"Thanks. I'm on my way."
"Now what?" Nina asked.
"Don't know. Managers meeting for 'not bad' news."
Nina laughed. "That's a first. Maybe you should buy a lottery ticket today."
"Right. Hold down the fort for me. Hopefully this won't take long."
Hurrying along, lost in a myriad of possibilities for the impromptu meeting, she wasn't paying attention and turned the corner at the end of the hall and slammed full speed ahead into a human wall. One with strong hands that grabbed her arms to steady her and sent instant heat waves rushing to her extremities and other inappropriate body parts. Brad.
"Sorry. You okay?" he asked softly.
"Yeah, I wasn't looking where I was going."
His fingers lingered another second on her arms, and, nodding, he released his hold but didn't move. "I was coming to see if you'd heard anything about your car."
Her car. Why couldn't she think straight with those amazing gray eyes staring at her? Why did this man so easily scramble all her senses? Her car. "Yes."
Brad didn't shift his gaze, didn't move, and, for a split second, Hope wondered if bumping into her had rattled him as much as it had her. He blinked, the tip of his tongue peeked out to moisten his lips, but, rather than glide across, it quickly slid back into his mouth.
The brief motion captured all her attention and raised the voltage on the waves still coursing through her system.
Blinking again, he took a small step in retreat, yet his eyes remained pinned to hers. "What did he say?"
"Say?" Right, the car. The mechanic. Hope stepped back as well. "He'll fix it and bring the car to me before the end of day."
"Excellent. Glad it worked out." His head bobbed, but his gaze remained fixed on her. "I guess I should get back to work. Keith has me shadowing Geraldo from maintenance."
"Oh." Sandy's call shoved its way to the forefront of Hope's scrambled thoughts. "There's a managers meeting in the lunchroom. That's where I was heading."
"Oh?" The stormy look in his eyes took on an intrigued sparkle.
"Yeah. Since you're management, you might as well make a U-turn."
"Yes, ma'am." He did that mock-salute thing he'd done the day before, but this time the only emotions stirring had nothing to do with tears.
***
Brad was going to have to give his assistant at headquarters a bonus for moving so fast. Most of last night, after leaving the Maplewood home, Brad had considered Ava's words carefully. Finally, somewhere around three o'clock this morning, it occurred to him the only way to make an unnoticed difference for Hope would be to do it for everyone.
"I received an executive memo from Eas
tCo's main office about fifteen minutes ago." Keith held up a stack of papers. "I went ahead and printed a copy for each of you." He passed the stack around.
All eyes in the room were riveted on Keith. Most of them frowning, but a few widened like a spooked owl as the notice reached them.
Keith smiled and read from his copy. "In an attempt to compensate staff loyalty for remaining with the Paradise Shores Hotel and assuming the additional workload during the transfer of ownership, EastCo is gifting each and every Paradise Shores employee with one thousand dollars to be dispersed immediately."
An eruption of applause, mingled with hoots and cheers, interrupted Keith's speech. The energy level in the room had ramped up considerably, and Brad found himself caught up in the clapping and hooting. For him one thousand dollars was pocket money, but seeing the relief and joy in each person's eyes as they spoke to one another about what they would do this windfall had him riding on a cloud. As more of the employees’ words registered with him, the elation he felt started to ebb. Expecting to hear about new clothes, a vacation, or some fanciful toy, words like repairs, prescriptions, bank letters, and collection calls stunned him silent.
He turned his attention to Hope; the smile on her face was exactly what he'd wanted to see. But was the money he'd meant to funnel through for Jason’s summer ball needed for more critical bills?
Hope spun around and flashed a huge smile at him. "Better than playing the lottery."
"Excuse me?" he asked.
"Nina said today was a special day, and I should play the lottery. This is just as good." Her smile slipped. "You don't look very pleased. Is something wrong?"
"Oh," He forced his charming smile. "No. Just thinking about a few bills."
"Yeah." She sighed, but her smile remained in place, easing his concerns. "This will be a nice boost for a lot of people. I'd better run. I need to tell my staff." With a light pat on his arm. she popped up from her seat and hurried away.
The loud hum of voices eased as each manager left the room to spread the good news.
Ava was right. Bradford Peyton had a lot to learn.
***
A chorus of "Oh, my God" echoed in the tiny housekeeping office. Rather than traipsing through the entire complex to tell her staff one by one about the corporate gift, or make them wait until the end of day, Hope had merely summoned them all to her office. Once she'd given the initial information, she hadn't gotten in another word.
The news couldn't have been better timed. She'd pay off the credit card she'd used for the car repair, enroll Jason in baseball, and have a little bit left over to put away for the next unplanned expense. Nina was right. Hope just might pick up a lottery ticket today.
The giggles and laughter came to a screeching halt, and then the women—crammed in the room like sardines in a can—one by one scurried from the office and back to work. When the last person turned the corner, Hope realized who had been the catalyst for this unexpected dedication to their jobs.
Arms crossed, Brad stood grinning at the doorway. "I gather the news went over well."
"Like water at Niagara."
"I thought we could celebrate."
"Celebrate?"
"Yes. Together. Tonight."
A date? The man was asking her on a date? At least she thought it was a date. Actually she wasn't even all that sure she'd been asked. "I have Jason."
Letting his arms drop to his side, Brad pushed away from the door frame and sauntered over to her desk. He didn't walk. Didn't meander. The man practically oozed across the tiny office. "I didn't mean to exclude him. I have it on good authority that Chuck E. Cheese’s is the place to celebrate with an eight-year-old."
She didn’t have the heart to tell him Jason had outgrown the oversized mouse years ago, not that it mattered. Dating was not a good idea. "I don't know."
"I can pick you up around five thirty. Give you time to do homework or any other afterschool chores." His confidant stance slipped. "Do eight-year-olds have homework?"
A soft rumble of laughter escaped her lips before she could stop herself. She didn't know what to make of the suave man whose good looks had fooled her into thinking he was a man of little substance, but she was really starting to like the normal guy underneath. "I suppose an evening of fun and games, and pizza again, is in order."
"Wonderful. See you at five thirty." He hesitated just long enough that Hope thought he had something else to say, but then he smiled brightly and turned away.
How about that? She had a date. A date. She almost felt like giggling. The end of day couldn't come fast enough.
"You look awfully happy." Keith came into her small office and leaned against her desk. "You're smiling like the company gave you a lot more than a thousand dollars."
Had she been smiling that big? Her mind had been stuck on her date. "It's been a good day."
"How about we make it an even better day. What do you say? You and me. We'll celebrate in style."
Now that was an obvious invitation. One she hated to turn down. "I'm sorry, but Jason and I already have plans."
His smile remained in place, but the twinkle in his eye disappeared.
She hated that she'd done that.
"Another time maybe."
"Keith …"
"I know." This time the smile vanished. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
"No. I guess I can't." Though she didn't feel it anymore, she tried to smile and felt a teeny bit better when he smiled back before walking away.
Eight years and not a single man worth the trouble, and now she had two. Life had a crazy sense of humor.
Chapter Eight
"It's so easy to make friends at that age." Hope watched her son and two other boys climbing like monkeys through the tube system wrapping around the large room.
"He probably gets it from his mom." Brad had moved from across the table to sit next her.
"I doubt that. Making friends wasn't easy for me growing up." Shuffled around from foster home to foster home, she'd learned a lot of life's lessons, but making friends and keeping them hadn't been one. It was one of the many things she and Dave had had in common. Like her, he'd lived in a foster home. Though almost fourteen when he'd lost his parents, he hadn't been in the system nearly as long as she had. At eighteen he'd enlisted, and at twenty-five he'd been home on rotation and, choosing the same movie she had, sat down the row from her. After the show he'd invited her for a drink. They wound up at the diner, eating pie. She'd fallen for him hard and fast. "I think he gets it from his dad."
"You think?"
"We weren't together very long."
"What happened to him?"
"Overseas. One of those suicide bombers. Or maybe it was a bomb in the road. I don't really remember. One of his buddies knew about me. He sent me a note on Dave's computer."
"Didn't the military contact you?"
She reached for the ring that was no longer on her finger. "We weren't married. They'd moved up his deployment unexpectedly. He knew I'd always dreamed of a big wedding so we decided to wait till he came home. He was only supposed to be gone a year."
"You didn't know you were pregnant?" Brad's voice came across so low he almost whispered.
She shook her head and looked at her son crawling noses to heels with his new friends.
Brad lifted his gaze to follow hers.
Sometimes if Jason looked at her just right, he reminded her a little of his dad. "Enough about me. Tell me about Brad Kane, only child. What else?"
"Not much to tell. I grew up on the East Coast, New England Brat, College in Boston,” he didn’t think mentioning Harvard right now was a good idea, “Graduated with a degree in international business. Still single. No children. Though my parents probably pray nightly to the patron saint of fertility for that to change."
Hope chuckled. "Is there such a thing?"
"Honestly? I think there are several. Though they're probably not called that exactly."
"How did you wind up in the hotel
business?" His response was so slow in coming, she almost thought he wasn't going to answer.
"Opportunity and timing," he finally said.
"How are you liking Paradise Shores?"
One side of his mouth tilted up in a wry grin. "More than I expected."
"Really?" She didn't know what to make of this guy. Sometimes he seemed like an ordinary but exceptionally nice guy, and sometimes she got the feeling she was playing with fire.
"Listen. Yesterday at the pizza place the other boy's dad mentioned baseball. Is Jason going to play?"
Tonight she could answer without hesitation. "I signed him up online this afternoon."
"Good." Brad’s grin stretched across his face, the happy-guy grin that made her stomach do little flips. "Then you haven't picked out any of his gear yet?"
"No." The league sent a list along with the confirmation of registration. It seemed simple enough. "Maybe we'll go on Saturday."
"Have someone to help pick out what you want?"
"I wouldn't think I'd need help for one little boy. Would I?"
Brad chuckled, and her insides flipped over the other way. "No. I wouldn't think so, but I'd love to tag along. It's been a while since I was in Little League, but I think it would be fun."
"You're volunteering to go shopping with me and my son?"
"Yes."
"Is this another one of those impending no-you-don't-have-to lectures?"
He laughed even harder. "It is."
"Then I guess, if you have nothing better to do on Saturday, you're welcome to join us."
"It's a date." Without waiting for her response, he turned his head toward the boys.
She was really getting to like this dating thing. She just hoped he didn't turn out to be a serial killer in disguise or a lying scumbag with a wife and two point five children back in New England.
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