Daisy's Secret Billionaire

by Francesca Lane

  Being on a first-name basis with his lawyer had its perks. Although at the moment, he couldn’t name one.

  “I do,” he said. “Shoot.”

  “It appears we are having a problem locating Billy Bask. My office has exhausted its resources in serving him with a notice of deposition.”

  Jake clenched his jaw. Figures the guy would run. Although he had not been able to prove it yet, he believed Billy, the foreman on the Carter Hotels project, knew exactly how his official plans changed without Jake knowing about it. That change pitched Jake head first into hot water.

  He glanced out to the gurgling, churning sea. “Thoughts on what to do next?”

  “We are not giving up, of course. With your permission, I’d like to hire a private investigator to dig him up.”

  “My permission because this will cost more money.”

  “Precisely. My guy is reasonable, but depending on the time it takes, there could be a considerable cost to the process.”

  There wasn’t anything to think about. Bask had to be found. “Then do it.”

  With a click, his lawyer hung up to chase after fine print and fugitives, leaving Jake to ruminate on that lingering cloud. As far as he could tell, no one in the family knew about this glitch in Jake’s otherwise ripple-less career—not even his sister Grace, who, as a lawyer herself, would surely jump at the chance to study up on what he’d gotten himself into. Or rather, what his once-illustrious client had dragged him into.

  Jake sucked up an all-consuming breath and let it out again. There was much that his family did not know about him. He had held his thoughts and activities private for as long as he could remember and it never bothered him … until now. Something about being here again made him feel closer to the sisters he rarely saw in person.

  Steps away from the beach house now, he slowed to stop, allowing himself to stand back and take in the old beast. The stillness of the house, once lit up and filled with nonstop noise—a byproduct of having four sisters around along with their summertime friends—unnerved him.

  And just like that, the tide turned his emotions and he had never disliked the beach so much.

  A movement to his left caught his attention. Daisy emerged from her mother’s house and stepped out onto the south-facing deck, the one opposite his family’s home. She had replaced the baseball cap with a cowboy hat and wore goggles around her neck. He watched as she put a bottle of something on the table and carried a sander to the other side of the deck. There was nothing timid about the way she moved. Maybe that was another reason he had recognized her earlier today.

  Daisy thought him a jerk, though. She hadn’t said so in words, but she certainly did with that flash of flame in her eyes when she drew herself up on her toes to face him. He pressed his lips together, considering Daisy’s reaction to him. He tried to think of her situation in reverse. If someone from his childhood didn’t recognize him, he doubted he would care.

  Then again, maybe he wouldn’t have noticed either.

  He curled another look at her. She tossed her hat onto the table and put the goggles on. Then she cranked up the sander and began working on a portion of deck railing. Odd. Damage to the Mcafee house happened on the other side. He wasn’t around when the fire started but was here soon after for a time. Took a look at the place then and saw the aftermath, and quite frankly, had been surprised the place had survived as long as it had.

  The first thing he noticed was the mismatched siding on the wall that had been torched. If he had to guess, the exterior wall was a patch job gone wrong. Wasn’t for him to say, though. He hadn’t been asked, and besides, he felt certain Wren’s insurance company would step in and make sure that repairs were done correctly. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to the problems he noticed. Jake had learned that cities were built on red tape, and he wasn’t about to be the one to inflict that mess on the Mcafee family, no matter what he thought of Wren.

  His call with his sister yesterday infiltrated his mind, Maggie’s voice so clear and recognizable in his head that he almost thought she was walking the beach with him right now.

  She’d implored him as he hurried through the parking lot of Clothing Mart. “Why don’t you like Wren again?”

  “I never said I don’t like her.”

  “But you avoid her.”

  “Not interested in talking about this right now, Mags.”

  “Don’t Mags me. That’s what all of you do when you don’t want to answer my inquiring mind.”

  “It’s just not important.”

  Maggie groaned into the phone. “Fine. Whatever. I have to get back to work anyway. Our fridge won’t fill itself.”

  He paused. “Is everything okay with you and Eva in that regard?”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” She tried to brush him off with her tone, as if his concern for her and his niece wasn’t necessary. “Getting back to Wren, I really wish you’d level with me.”

  He stopped. This had gone on long enough. Why was he keeping this all to himself anyway? “Fine. I’ll tell you, but you need to take a deep breath first.”

  “Um, all right.”

  “I think she and our father had a dalliance.”

  “A … dalliance?”

  “Yes.”

  “First of all, brother, nobody uses that word anymore. Second, what makes you think that?”

  He crossed his arms, remembering back. “I showed up here once, when Mom was … ill.” For some reason, neither he or his siblings had been fully aware of the extent of their mother’s loss of mental awareness. All this time later, they barely spoke of it. “Anyway, I could tell that I had interrupted something.”

  “Oh no. Don’t you tell me you saw them naked. I can handle a lot, but not that. Oh no.”

  He frowned. “You are making me sorry I told you.”

  “Right.” She exhaled. “Sorry.”

  “And no, there was no shedding of clothes. They both looked guilty, though. Like I had interrupted something.” He paused. “I want nothing to do with her.”

  Maggie didn’t answer him right away and he feared he had stirred something up that would be too difficult for his sister to handle. As a single mother, she had enough stress in her life. He waited and readied himself to console her through the impact of this revelation.

  Finally, she spoke. “Jake, I’m only going to say this once: You have lost your mind.”

  He had expected tears … not chastisement. Jake’s shoulders tensed. He stopped abruptly, debating whether to end the call and march inside Clothing Mart to get what he needed.

  But Maggie continued. “I doubt seriously that our aging father and that old woman had a ‘dalliance.’ It doesn’t matter now anyway—leave secrets buried with the dead.”

  He winced at the comeuppance his sister delivered.

  “And I beg you,” Maggie said, “do not mention any of this crazy talk to our siblings. Grace will want to investigate, Lacy will bring it up every chance she gets, and Bella will probably cry nonstop. I, for one, am not interested in fielding all those reactions!”

  As he stood there reliving that conversation with his sister, Jake sensed the sizzle of a hard stare on him. He blinked, the sun’s rays blinding, and shaded his eyes with his hand. Daisy watched him from her deck, a silent sander in one hand. He swallowed. Caught.

  Why had he allowed his mind to wander like that while he stood here staring in her direction?

  Daisy pulled the goggles from her eyes and stepped close to the railing, and when she did, he couldn’t help but notice the peek of bare midriff below her knotted T-shirt. He’d been around job sites his whole career and could not recall what another soul wore, at least at the moment. She cupped that delicate mouth of hers with her hand. “We’re not sellin’ it to you, in case you’re wondering!”

  Selling? Jake assumed she meant Wren’s house. He trudged across the sand until he reached the deck, noting that he’d gained an especially great view of that midriff now …

  �
��Eyes up here,” she said.

  “Don’t mind me. I’m just admiring your … ambition.”

  She glared at him, then shifted slightly, her gaze wandering to the sander in her hand. “If you must know—”

  “I don’t need to know.”

  She closed her mouth and pushed her hat back slightly, looking down at him through those long lashes. “Well, then. I’ll get back to my work on the railing.”

  He nodded, but didn’t move.

  She scowled, one brow lifted. “So, you can go now.”

  “Maybe I’d like to watch awhile.”

  She tilted her head. “So you can learn a thing or two?”

  Silence, followed by laughter, rolled out of Jake. “Fine. You win. May I ask why you’re working on this side of the house?”

  The sun beat down on both of them. She reached for her hat and pressed it down hard on her head. “I don’t understand your question.”

  “Damage is on the other side.”

  “True, but you know the rules. I need a permit.”

  “Ah.”

  She flipped stray tendrils of hair over her shoulder. “Just so happens I’m waiting for the city to release the permit for the work that needs to be done over on that side. I’ve hired a friend of mine, a handyman, to help me get it done fast so my mother can move back in.”

  Jake rubbed his chin. “Permitting process can take a long time. Need a hand with it?”

  “No, thank you. I’ve got it covered.”

  “Because I’m going over there tomorrow anyway. I could check on your permit for you.”

  “Look, Jake, I appreciate the offer. But I would prefer to see this project through from start to finish on my own.”

  “Understood.” He backed away. “Enjoy your evening. And by the way, I’m not in the market right now.”

  Daisy scrunched her nose. “Excuse me?”

  He raised both eyebrows. “For the house.”

  If she responded, Jake didn’t hear it. He entered his family’s beach house, a strange grin still stuck on his face. How he needed that. Between the prospect of staying in the old place for the next month and the cloud of pending fines and a potential lawsuit hovering over him, Jake had not laughed in months. And smiles came at a premium.

  He glanced out the window at the girl in the cowboy hat swinging a sander. Good thing she hated him as much as she did. Not that he was looking. As he’d said … he wasn’t in the market.

  But if he were interested, he wasn’t about to bring a beautiful woman into his troubles. That wouldn’t do at all.

  Daisy had her rituals. She rolled her toothpaste tube from the bottom. Always put moisturizer with sunscreen on her face. And she never started her day without hot coffee spiked with oat milk, a custom she acquired while traveling in Sweden.

  Today, though, would be a first. She should have known better than to put her faith in her mother’s vintage four-cup coffee maker. The thing sputtered and groaned to a halt halfway through the coffee-making process and practically begged her to send it to the landfill. Well, if the thing could talk it would have. She huffed a sigh. Truth was, if she were to remove the relic from the house, her mother would undoubtedly ask about it. And Daisy would get the blame.

  Resigned, she unplugged the machine and wandered outside. A haze of morning greeted her, as did a whoosh of waves roaring onto the shore. She leaned onto the newly sanded deck rail and closed her eyes, letting the slightly salty breeze embrace her face.

  Something about that sound from her childhood swept away her problems. At least for the moment. She’d forgotten about its power, about the way she would wake up as a kid and throw open her window to let that thunderous sound in. Unlike her friends who pulled the covers over their heads at the first sign of morning, Daisy liked to throw them off and see what the day had brought.

  She still woke up early, even now, but Daisy couldn’t remember the last time she did so with any panache. Maybe it was time to start.

  After dashing inside for a handful of bills, Daisy walked east toward town. She had messed with that broken-down coffee pot so long that, surely, someplace in town would be open by now. She wandered past quiet homes, their windows burnished with awakening, and every now and again she’d catch signs of life—an elderly gentleman checking the porch for his newspaper, a child running past an open window, the start of a car engine in a driveway.

  She turned the last corner and drifted along the main drag that led away from the beach. If she didn’t find something on this stretch of town, she could always walk up to the corner and turn onto Colibri Boulevard, which, despite its name, was no wider than a single lane on each side.

  Fortunately, she didn’t have to take another step. She entered Brooke’s Beachside Bakery and followed the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans. A young woman greeted her. Her name tag read Hattie.

  “Good morning. What can I get you?”

  Daisy’s eyes took in the muffin tops and coffee cakes and other baked goods. But first, coffee. “Some of that amazing smell would be just perfect,” she said.

  Hattie laughed. “It is amazing, isn’t it? Would you like a cappuccino? Or a latte? Our new espresso machine is state-of-the-art.”

  “Really! Well, anything would be better than my mother’s sorry old coffee pot at home, so why not go for the best? I’d love a cappuccino, except … you don’t happen to have oat milk, do you?”

  “Of course, we do.”

  Daisy blinked, momentarily frozen. They have oat milk. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in days.”

  Hattie smiled. “Glad to hear that. Anything from the case this morning?”

  Daisy considered all the yummy pastries behind the glass, but realized she couldn’t eat them all. Well, she shouldn’t. But one couldn’t hurt … “How about a custard-filled croissant?”

  “Great choice.”

  Daisy paid for her items and glanced around. An oversized chalkboard hung on the wall with words written with a flourish: Gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder - Chesterton

  “Why don’t you find yourself a table and I’ll bring your breakfast to you,” Hattie said.

  “Perfect.”

  She found a spot by a window. There was a sleepiness to the town, a reflection on the time of year, she thought. Fewer cars drove by than she would expect during other seasons. She hadn’t been home much in the past few years, but some things never changed. Except, maybe, for the addition of this bakery to the town.

  “Here you are.” A different woman delivered her coffee and croissant. “I’m Brooke. Anything else I can get you this morning?”

  Daisy smiled. “No, this is perfect. Is this your place?”

  The young woman beamed. “It is. We’ve been open for a few months. First time in?”

  “Yes. Although I grew up around here. The town is virtually the same from when I was a kid. Except for this place, I mean.”

  “I hear you. I’m not from here, but I used to visit my grandmother in the summers, too, so this area has always felt a little like home to me. Especially now.”

  “Well, your place fits right in here. It’s homey. Welcoming.”

  “Thank you so much.” Brooke turned to leave, then paused. “Since you grew up around here, I wonder if you know my friend, Lea Dorsey?”

  “I do! Well, sorta. She was my grandmother’s neighbor and sometimes brought over zucchini from her mom’s garden.” Daisy waved a hand. “I don’t know if she would remember me, though. I’m younger and always felt a little, I don’t know, invisible I guess.”

  Brooke smiled kindly. “You’d be surprised. She actually works for me part time, so maybe you can test her memory out one of these days.”

  The bell on the bakery door rang and both women turned, but the instant Daisy saw who stepped inside, she shrank behind Brooke. Too bad invisibility cloaks weren’t real.

  Brooke eyed the woman and quipped, “You’re a fan of Lillian’s too, I take it?”

  “Avoiding her like the flu
.”

  Brooke nodded, a knowing smile on her lips. “If only a simple mask and hand sanitizer could repel her.”

  Daisy suppressed a laugh. No need to draw the town’s somewhat notorious realtor’s attention. The woman had left her mother several messages. Daisy had deleted them all.

  “Enjoy your breakfast, Daisy. Hope to see you back in again soon.”

  Daisy turned toward the window, hoping Lillian wouldn’t notice her taking surreptitious bites of the most decadent croissant she’d ever tasted. Vive la France! The coffee went down smooth and creamy, and she had to control herself or she might have inhaled it in one sip. Not that moving quickly would have been a bad idea.

  Unfortunately, she wasn’t quick enough.

  Lillian Madsen approached Daisy wearing spiked leopard-print heels like she was attending a conference in Vegas, rather than schlepping around the beach town so early in the morning. She gestured to the empty seat at Daisy’s table. “May I sit?”

  She didn’t wait for Daisy’s answer, which, of course, would have been yes. She wasn’t rude. But … really? Interrupting a person’s breakfast indulgence to meddle?

  Brooke reappeared, silently poured a cup of coffee for Lillian, and slipped away.

  Lillian zeroed in on Daisy. “What brings you into this establishment so early?”

  Daisy hid her surprise at the woman’s use of her name, although on second thought, it was probably Lillian’s aim to know everybody in this one-seagull town.

  “I’ve always been an early riser.”

  “That’s nice.” She sipped her black coffee. “How is your mother, dear?”

  “She is improving every day. Thank you for asking.”

  Lillian tilted her head, a half-smile on her face that reminded Daisy more of pity than it did joy. “That’s good to hear. It is so difficult when our parents begin losing their health.”

  Daisy took a sip of her cappuccino, unsure of how to answer that. Lillian had been around since she was a kid—and she’d thought of her as old then. And if she was not mistaken, didn’t Lillian have an adult son and daughter? Hm. Wonder if they were concerned about their mother’s … health.