A Man You Can Trust

by Jo McNally

  She went downstairs in the loft apartment and poured herself a cup of tea, adding three spoonfuls of sugar. She usually joined Nora in the coffee shop before heading to the resort, but Nora had her hands full watching Amanda and Blake’s teenaged son and toddler daughter this week. Mel might be down in the shop, but it was more likely Amanda’s other cousin would be enjoying her coffee with her fiancé on the deck of their waterfront home. So Cassie fixed herself a bagel and sat at the kitchen island, feeling almost as restless as Nick West.

  Ugh! She’d known the man only three days, and he was in her head constantly. His big laugh when he was kidding around with employees—who all seemed to adore both him and his practical jokes. The way he started every conversation with a booming “Hey! Whatcha doing?” The way he rapped the corner of everyone’s desk sharply with his knuckles every time he passed it. Except hers. After the first time he did it and she’d squeaked in surprise, he’d left her desk alone.

  But she hadn’t managed to stop his infuriating running joke of putting her stapler—the bright blue one she’d flung at him on their first meeting—in a different place every day. Monday afternoon she’d found it on her chair. Tuesday, it was next to the coffee maker. And yesterday, when she attended a meeting in the surveillance room with Nick and the entire security staff, the blue stapler was sitting on the circular console that faced the wall of monitors. She spotted it immediately and turned to glare at him, only to find him laughing at her. Ass.

  Sure enough, when she walked into the office later that morning, the stapler was sitting next to a small vase of daffodils on her desk. Wait. Where did the daffodils come from? The sunny flowers were in a simple vase, which on closer inspection turned out to be a water glass.

  “They reminded me of you, slugger.”

  Nick West was leaning against the doorway to his office. He’d taken his jacket and tie off and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. That was his usual uniform during the day. He always looked ready for action.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know—sunny and bright and happy?” He was baiting her. Yesterday, he’d asked her why she was so serious all the time. Deciding the misogynistic question didn’t deserve an answer, she’d walked away, but she should have known he wouldn’t drop it. She dropped her purse into a drawer and clarified her comment.

  “I was referring to the ‘slugger’ part.”

  “Well, you’ve got pretty good aim with that arm of yours, and you’re a fighter. Slugger seems to fit you.”

  Cassie’s breath caught in her throat. He thought she was a fighter?

  “And what should I call you? Ducky, for how fast you dodged the stapler?” He gave her an odd look, somewhere between surprise and admiration. Then his face scrunched up.

  “Ducky is a hard pass. Let’s stick with Nick.”

  She looked at the flowers. “Please tell me the director of security didn’t steal these flowers from the garden in front of the resort.”

  Nick winked at her. He was a big winker. She did her best to tell herself those twinkling brown eyes of his had no effect on her. “They actually haven’t left the property, so at best, the director of security has just misappropriated them. I think they look nice there, don’t you?” She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m sure a cheating accountant thinks misappropriated funds look nice in his bank account, too, but that doesn’t make it any less a crime.”

  He barked out a loud laugh. “And here I thought I left all the attorneys back in LA. You missed your calling.” He turned back to his office, but stopped cold when she called out.

  “Oh, Mr. West?” His exaggerated slow turn almost made her laugh out loud, and she hadn’t done that in a long time. He admittedly had a goofy charm. “Don’t forget the stapler. You seem to prefer mine to the one you have in your office, so maybe we should switch.” She picked it up and tossed it gently in his direction, surprised at her own moxie. He was equally surprised, catching the stapler with one hand. She nodded at the daffodils. “And thank you for the stolen goods.”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “Just following orders. Blake told me to treat you right, remember?”

  Cassie rolled her eyes again and turned away, ignoring his chuckle behind her.

  A couple hours later, Nick was surprisingly all business during their tour of the grounds, jotting notes on his tablet and snapping pictures. It was a gorgeous early May day, warming dramatically from earlier in the week. A breeze raised gentle waves on the lake, which were shushing against the shoreline.

  They started by walking around the exterior of Blake and Amanda’s home, a rambling stone castle named Halcyon, then worked their way down the hill past the resort, all the way to the golf course that hugged the shoreline. The entire complex, including the residence, covered over one hundred acres, and by lunchtime, Cassie felt as though they’d walked every one of them.

  She rattled off anecdotes as they walked. Nick’s security staff had been showing him around all week, but Blake instructed her, in his absence, to give Nick a tour that included the stories behind the business. This place, with lots of help from Amanda, had changed Blake’s life. He wanted his employees to understand its importance. Nick listened and nodded, busy with his notes.

  She told him the history of Halcyon and how close the mansion had come to being destroyed, along with the resort. The rebirth of the resort, thanks to Amanda’s designer eye and Blake’s hotel fortune. The coinciding growth of the town of Gallant Lake, where most of the employees lived and many guests shopped and dined. The upscale weddings the resort specialized in, often for well-heeled Manhattanites. And the new championship golf course, already home to several prominent charity tournaments.

  He glanced at her several times as they headed back from the golf course, but she was careful not to make eye contact. His chocolate eyes had a way of knocking her thoughts off track. The waves were larger now that the wind had picked up. Above them was the sprawling clubhouse, a stunning blend of glass and timber, with a slate tile roof.

  “Where’s the best place to launch a kayak around here?”

  “What?”

  “I want to get my kayak in the water this weekend, and my rental doesn’t have a dock yet. Does the resort have a launch site?”

  Cassie stopped walking and looked at him, brushing away the stray strands of hair that blew across her face. She knew her mouth had fallen open, but it took her a moment to actually speak.

  “You’re asking me about kayaking?”

  “You live in a mountain town. You must do something outdoors. Are there mountain bike trails here? Places to rock climb?”

  Her chest jumped and it startled her so much she put her hand over her heart. That had been dangerously close to a laugh. She shook her head. “You are definitely asking the wrong person. I’m sure those things exist around here, but I don’t know anything about them. You should ask Terry at the front desk—he’s outdoorsy.”

  “Outdoorsy?” His shoulders straightened. “I’m not ‘outdoorsy.’ I enjoy outdoor activities. There’s a difference.”

  “And that difference would be?”

  Nick stuttered for a minute, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. But it’s different, trust me. You’ve never kayaked here?”

  “Uh...no. My idea of a good time is curling up with a book and a cup of tea.”

  He shook his head. “Well, that’s just sad. I’ll think of you tomorrow night when I’m out on the water taking in the scenery and you’re stuck at home reading some boring book.”

  She turned away and started walking. “I’m working tomorrow night.”

  “Yeah? On a Friday night?”

  “There’s a big wedding this weekend, and the rehearsal dinner is tomorrow. One of our events people is on vacation, so I’m helping our manager make sure everything runs smoothly.”

  “The manager is Julie,
right? I spent yesterday afternoon with her. She seems on top of things.” Cassie nodded. Julie Brown was nice. If Cassie was sure she’d be staying in Gallant Lake, they’d probably be better friends. But she couldn’t afford to get too comfortable. Nick, walking at her side, shook his head with a smile. “Blake wasn’t kidding when he said you don’t have a defined job description—you’re everywhere.”

  “I’m wherever I’m needed. That’s my job description.”

  He studied her intently, then shrugged.

  “Hey, if you’d rather work than join me on the water, that’s your loss.”

  This laughing whirlwind of a man was making her crazy. Because for just a moment, she wondered if it really would be her loss if she didn’t go kayaking with him.

  She quickly dismissed the thought. Her in a kayak with Nick West? Not happening.

  Chapter Three

  Nick leaned back in his office chair, turning away from the security feeds to watch Cassie through the open door. She was on the phone with someone, typing furiously and glancing at the schedule on the tablet propped up on the desk by her computer. The woman could seriously multitask. Was she the calm, cool professional he saw right now? Or was she the meek woman who’d flinched when he’d dropped a pile of papers on her desk this morning? Was she the woman who got uptight if there were more than a couple people in a room? Or was she the woman he saw yesterday, giving him a tour of the property with pride and confidence?

  He’d checked her employee file—a perk of his job title. The information was pretty thin. She’d been here only a few months. She’d managed an insurance office in Milwaukee for a while but had been unemployed for over a year before moving here six months ago. Not exactly a red flag. She could have been going to school or job hunting or whatever. She’d clearly won Blake Randall’s confidence, but she didn’t give off a sense of having a lot of confidence in herself. Instead, Cassie seemed all twisted up with anxiety. Unless she was busy. Then she was cool and...controlled. It was as if being productive was her comfort zone.

  She hung up the phone, then immediately dialed someone else. Her back was to him, ramrod straight. Her auburn hair was gathered in a knot at the base of her slender neck. He wondered what she’d look like if she ever let that hair loose. She was dressed in dark trousers and a pale blue sweater. Sensible. Practical. Almost calculatedly so. He grimaced. This was what happened when you spent eight years as a detective—you started profiling everyone you met.

  “Margo? It’s Cassandra Smith, Mr. Randall’s assistant. Did you see the email I sent you last week? I didn’t receive a reply and thought perhaps you missed it...”

  Nick’s eyes narrowed. There was an edge to Cassie’s voice he hadn’t heard until now. She was a whole new person. Again. He picked up his foam basketball and started bouncing it off the wall by the doorway. He smirked when Cassie stiffened—the fact that she hated his throwing the ball around was half the fun of doing it.

  “Yes... Well, if Mr. Randall saw these numbers, he’d definitely be concerned... Right. And if Mr. Randall is concerned, he might be on the next flight to Miami for a conversation... Exactly. The restaurant is consistently selling less alcohol than they’re ordering every week. That inventory has to be going somewhere... What’s that?... Oh, I see. The bartender had his own family restaurant and was ordering a little extra for himself? I’m assuming he’s no longer employed with us?” She was scribbling furiously on a notepad on her desk. “You know, Margo, you have access to the same reports I do, so you may want to start reading them more closely... I’m sure you will. I’m glad we had a chance to talk... Yes, you, too. Have a great weekend.”

  Nick moved to the doorway while she talked, working her diplomatic magic with the Miami manager. As she hung up, he leaned against the doorjamb and started to clap slowly. Being Cassie, she just about jumped out of her skin, spinning in her chair with a squeak of alarm. He really was going to have to be more careful around her.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear. Those were some good people skills, Cassie. I’m impressed, but since I’m responsible for loss management, I’m also concerned. Do we have a problem in Miami?”

  Color returned to her cheeks and her chin lifted. “Not anymore. I saw the discrepancy last week. It was only a case or two here and there, but it’s something the hotel manager should have spotted herself. She won’t be ignoring any more of the reports I send out.”

  “And you really weren’t going to tell Blake? Or me?” That might be taking her job responsibility a step too far. She stuttered for a moment, then met his gaze with the slightest of smiles, causing his chest to tighten in an odd way.

  “It happened before you arrived, and I told Blake the minute I saw it.”

  Nick replayed the conversation in his head. Cassie let Margo believe Blake wasn’t aware, but she hadn’t actually stated that. Clever girl.

  “Bravo, Miss Smith.” She shrugged off the compliment, as usual. “Are you still planning on working the rehearsal dinner tonight?”

  “Yes. It will probably run like clockwork as usual, but with Blake out of town and one of our managers off this week, Julie doesn’t want anyone thinking they can slack off.” She checked the time on her phone. “I should probably get down there. Have fun kayaking.”

  Nick nodded and wished her a good evening, not bothering to tell her he wouldn’t be paddling on the water tonight after all. He’d be sitting in the surveillance room with Brad, learning how everything worked in there. Turned out Brad was in IT and also worked security on the weekends.

  Three hours later, his head was spinning with all the information Brad was throwing at him. Nick was comfortable with technology, but remembering which control moved the images from the smaller monitors up to the large wall monitors mounted around the room, which control sped up or reversed the feeds, how to copy a feed to the permanent drive rather than the temporary one that saved them for only fourteen days... It was enough to make his head hurt. And to have it rattled off to him by some geeky kid barely out of college didn’t help his mood any.

  There were digital cameras all over the resort, both in the public areas as well as in all the employee passageways and the kitchen. He’d spotted Cassie repeatedly. She seemed to be everywhere behind the scenes tonight, clipboard in hand, watching all the action. She’d changed into a crisp white shirt and dark slacks to match the rest of the staff. She didn’t interact with a lot of people. He saw her speaking with the manager, Julie. Then she’d been with Dario, the head chef, gesturing toward the plates being prepared.

  He’d seen that pattern with her before—if she knew and trusted someone, she was relaxed and looked them straight in the eye when she spoke. But if she wasn’t comfortable with someone, her body language was completely different. She avoided both eye contact and conversation. She kept her body turned at a slight angle instead of facing them directly. Was she just painfully shy, or had something happened in her past to make her this way? Nick leaned back in his chair, chewing on the cap of his pen and scanning the monitors.

  He spotted her a little while later, heading across the lobby toward the side door, purse slung over her shoulder. She was heading home. He frowned and checked the time. It was after ten o’clock and she was alone. They had cameras in the lots, but he’d noticed most of them were trained on customer parking, not the employee lot. He stood and shook Brad’s hand.

  “This has been a great session, man. Thanks. But I think I’ll call it a night.” He looked around and frowned. “You’re on your own tonight?” Brad was a good kid, but he looked like a younger version of Paul Blart, the mall cop. Nick had doubts about Brad’s ability to handle the type of situations that could come up when a wedding crowd got to drinking. “You’ve got my mobile number, right?”

  Brad laughed. “I’m not alone. Tim’s on vacation, but Bill’s out doing the first night check on doors and gates.” The team made the rounds to all exterior
access points to the buildings three times every night. Nick nodded and left the room, waiting until he got to the hallway before closing his eyes in frustration.

  Bill Chesnutt was even older than Ken Taylor had been. The guy was a retired marine, but he’d retired a long time ago. So basically they had Paul Blart and Andy Griffith watching over the resort on a Friday night. Perfect. He was going to need to make some changes here, but he didn’t want to rock the boat too early. He’d have a sit-down with Blake when he returned and discuss the options—better training, better people or both. He headed out the side door toward the employee parking lot.

  Cassie was walking in the next row over from him, head down and looking tired. There were nowhere near enough lights in this damn lot. Nick headed in her direction, making a mental note to talk to the employees about using a buddy system to walk to their cars after dark until he could get more lights out here. This might not be the streets of LA, but there were bad guys everywhere.

  Nick walked up behind Cassie, not happy that he was able to get this close without her noticing. She should be more aware of her surroundings. He was only a few feet away and she didn’t even know...

  In the blink of an eye, Cassie spun and swung her fist at him. He dodged just in time, and something glinted in the light. Her car keys were sticking out between her fingers. That would have left a mark if she’d connected. She was digging in her purse with her other hand.

  He barely had time to register what was happening before the pepper spray hit him in the face.

  Chapter Four

  “Agh! Son of a bitch! What the hell is wrong with you? God damn it, that hurts!”