“Julia, relax. We’re not going to need protection for what I have in mind.”
Two hours later, with her body well-sated, Julia walked out of the cottage forty-five minutes after Trent, and made her way through the grounds back to her suite in the hotel. She’d showered, dressed in more casual business clothes—a tan pantsuit and ankle boots—and met with the office manager in the offices on the north side of the third floor.
“Have you seen the entire grounds yet, Miss Lowell?” Kimberly Warren asked. The office manager was pretty, blond and two years out of college.
“No, I haven’t. Mr. Tyler plans on showing me around later in the day,” Julia said.
“Mr. Tyler is very proud of Tempest West. We’re all hoping you’ll come up with something dynamic to lower our vacancy rates. We’re aiming for ninety-percent occupancy.”
Julia didn’t show her surprise at the number Trent expected. “That’s a tall order. I’m not even sure the more established Tempest Hotels manage quite so high a percentage.”
“Mr. Tyler has faith in you, Miss Lowell.”
“Call me Julia.” She smiled at the office manager.
“Okay, Julia. Let me show you to your office. Mr. Tyler had me set you up next to his office. I guess,” she said, her blue eyes looking a bit too knowing, “you two will be working closely.”
Julia cleared her throat. “Yes, I suppose we will be.”
“Follow me,” Kimberly said. “His office is down at the end of the hall and yours is the one to the right.”
Kimberly showed Julia to her office then left her to settle in. Julia glanced around, looking at the framed pictures of Tempest West from inception to completion that Trent had hung on the walls. Her desk was made of white oak and stained in light walnut, the walls were cream-colored, accented with white crown molding, and there were tall bookshelves. Other than the newest electronic technology in the room, the office maintained the western theme throughout and she noted that the softly feminine touches reminded her very much of her apartment in Los Angeles.
She spent a few minutes acquainting herself with the fax machine, the Apple computer and the intercom system. Just as she emptied the contents of her briefcase into the files in the desk drawer, Trent knocked on her door and entered.
She stood up and their eyes connected.
“Morning. Again,” Trent said with a wink.
Julia glanced at the closed door and thanked goodness for small favors. He appeared fresh and well-groomed, wearing a crisp white shirt under a black jacket, a string tie and cowboy hat. He looked amazingly undaunted for a man who suggested he might need to be dragged into the office today. “Hi.”
“Are you settled in?”
She looked around the room. She hadn’t brought much. Most of what she needed was on her laptop or in her own head. She had good instincts and counted on them more than anything else. “I think so.”
“Let Kimberly know if you need anything else.”
“I’m good, Trent. The office is great.”
He nodded. “Okay. Just checking.” He removed his jacket and tie and set them on the back of the chair facing her desk. She stiffened, watching him casually undress in her office. Hadn’t he understood her concerns last night? Before she could issue a quelling remark, he offered, “I’ll take you on that nickel tour now. I want you to see Tempest West at its best.”
Relieved she’d been mistaken, she nodded. Trent hadn’t anything but business in mind. She’d almost forgotten about agreeing to see the acreage with him this morning. “Yes, I can’t wait to see the rest of the property today.”
But the devil in her knew she’d already seen the best of Tempest West last night, in Trent’s arms.
Three
“N ormally, we’d see the grounds on horseback, but that would take too long. Today, we’re going in style.” Trent opened the side passenger door of the open-air Jeep Wrangler for her.
With a smile, Julia glanced at the dusty black vehicle. She’d had quite a welcome to Tempest West yesterday, so she wasn’t opposed to sitting back and letting a different kind of horsepower do the work for her today. Surely, her backside would be the better for it. “I like the way you think.”
Trent lowered the brim of his hat and closed her door, then jumped into the driver’s seat and put the engine in gear. “I thought you would. Hang on.”
They took off down the service road and headed toward the stables. Bays and palominos and red duns came into view within a minute, the horses moving around in the corrals appearing well cared for and content.
“We own forty horses and employ eight wranglers. At any given time, there may be ten to twenty horses out for a morning or afternoon ride. There’s an office in the tack room where our head wrangler, Pete Wyatt, schedules the rides.”
Trent pulled to a stop and they bounded out of the Jeep. They walked to the stable entrance, which was a smaller replica of the massive high-arched entrance to the main hotel.
A man Trent’s age came forward, smiling wide with an outstretched hand. “You must be Miss Julia Lowell. I’m Pete. I manage the stables. You’re the lady who’s gonna make sure we don’t lose any in our string.”
Julia shook his hand, and then slanted her gaze toward Trent. “And how will I do that?”
“By bringing in more paying guests, that’s how,” Pete said as if stating the obvious. “We’re only working half the animals, if that. They come from good breeding, every one of them. The boys and me can only exercise them so much. They’re too spry to be corralled up. Come on,” he said, “I’ll show you our operation.”
Half an hour later, she returned with Trent to the Jeep. Julia made a few notations in her PDA before they motored off. “Seems you’ve got everyone convinced I am a miracle worker.”
Trent turned away from the road to look at her. “Too much pressure?”
“I work best under pressure,” Julia admitted honestly.
Trent cast her a satisfied nod as if he’d known that about her already. His faith in her was a bit daunting, though she couldn’t deny it was also an ego boost.
Next, they drove toward the outer edge of Crimson Canyon, where the blue cloudless sky met with the scarlet packed earth. Trent pulled to a stop facing the seemingly groundless canyon as they stared out. “That’s Shadow Ridge. It’s my favorite place on the property.”
“I can see why.” The beauty of nature pulled at her, making her feel small and minute, but inspired and strong at the same time. “It’s glorious and untouched.”
Trent remained silent for a minute, and then shook his head. “Most guests don’t get out that far. It can be dangerous terrain even with a good horse. The Jeep can’t get close enough, but trust me, nothing much can match the rock formations and the hues of color at Shadow Ridge.”
Julia whipped out her PDA and made a notation. “Okay,” she said, her mind spinning at the possibilities. “Where to next?”
Twenty minutes later, after Trent gave her a scenic tour of the rest of the property, they pulled up to Destiny Lake. “We have swimming holes, fishing and nonmotorboating here. It’s the only natural lake in the vicinity. When I bought the land, I made sure the lake was included.”
“A deal breaker otherwise?”
“You got it. I knew I’d build the hotel close to the lake.”
“You said there was a legend?”
“There is.” Trent got out of the Jeep and walked over to her, opening the door. “Take a walk with me.” He put out his hand.
Julia grabbed his hand and once out of the Jeep, she released him. They strolled along the banks quietly as early October breezes blew by. Off in the distance, a few hotel guests splashed in the lake, their laughter a soft whisper on the waters.
Trent took her hand again when they came upon a small boat dock jutting out onto the lake. Three rowboats, tied to the dock, rocked gently in the rippling current. They walked halfway to the end of the dock then stopped to look out at the land.
“This land
was settled over one hundred fifty years ago. People who’d tried their luck in the California gold mines and failed, and others who’d never quite made it that far west claimed this area. Legend has it that a young girl named Ella and her secret betrothed had a terrible quarrel here. Her parents had picked a more suitable beau for her. Samuel, the boy she’d pledged to marry, gave her an ultimatum—meet him at the lake at sunset to run off together or she’d never see him again. She didn’t want to leave her family, but she knew she couldn’t live without the boy she loved. It took her a while to sneak out of the house, but when she got to the lake after midnight, Samuel wasn’t there. She searched the land and finally spotted him just as he jumped off the ledge and into Crimson Canyon.”
“That’s awful, Trent, but somehow I knew you’d say that.” All legends seemed to end with tragedy, she thought. She’d taken a course in college on the subject. “So you’re saying the lake is haunted?”
Trent grinned. “Not at all. The legend goes that the young girl cried all night by the lake, completely devastated. When the sun rose in the morning, she looked up and found her betrothed, dripping wet from his swim across the lake to get to her. It all happened right on the spot we’re standing on now.”
“Samuel didn’t jump off the cliff?”
“No, he tripped on a rock in the dark and hit his head. She thought she’d seen him throw himself over the cliff. That had been his intention, but they’d both been given a second chance. They never ran off, but stood up to her folks, married here and had five children. They lived on this land until they died some fifty years later.”
“So that’s why it’s called Destiny Lake.”
“Ella and Sam didn’t name the lake, but their children did, once they’d heard the story.”
“The two were destined to be together. They were given a second chance.” Julia gazed out at the lake, thinking about the two lovers for a second, the romantic in her taking hold of such an inspiring love story. Then, she took out her PDA again and punched in some key words. “Okay, got it.” She turned to Trent. “Will you take me back to the office now? I’ve got a lot to do today.”
Trent didn’t hesitate. He guided her back to the Jeep and they drove off, her head filling with ideas to make the miracle Trent wanted come true.
Three hours later, Julia sat at her computer as ideas formulated in her head. Tempest West needed something…more. She knew they’d have to organize a new or grand opening, but she also knew that she needed a different approach. After taking the tour of the grounds, she’d come to the conclusion that an elite western resort with beautiful scenery wasn’t enough. She had to appeal to the wealthy masses. Give them something they couldn’t get anywhere else. She knew what she wanted to do. And she knew it would be risky. But Trent was a risk-taker and once she had all her ducks in a row, she’d present him with her ideas.
Later that afternoon, Julia buzzed Kimberly on the intercom. “Hi, Kim. Do you have those financial reports I requested from Legal this morning?”
“I just picked up the files. I’ll be right in.”
Julia leaned back in her chair, looking at the Young Dreams Foundation Web site on the screen. Her father had introduced her to the foundation when his best friend’s son had been ill and the charity had granted the child’s fondest dream of meeting space shuttle astronauts at Cape Kennedy. After that touching experience Julia had gotten deeply involved working with the foundation whenever time would allow, getting to know some of the children the charity helped and making some good friends along the way. An idea percolated in her head and she put it on hold when Kimberly walked in with an armload of files.
“They may have pulled more files than you need,” she said with a smile.
“That’s okay. I’ll take a quick look at them and give you back what I don’t need. I know what I’m looking for. Do you have a minute?”
Kim plunked down in the seat across from her. “I do. Tell me what you need and I’ll sort through half the files.” Kim handed her a stack while keeping several for herself.
Julia thumbed through a few. “I want to see the names and addresses of all the patrons of the hotel since it opened. How long they stayed. How much they spent. I also want our profit-and-loss statements for all the months we’ve been operating.”
“Okay, that’s easy.”
Kim put her head down and sifted through the files on her side of Julia’s desk, while Julia did the same.
Julia took a good look at a file that seemed out of place. “I guess this one got in here by accident,” she muttered. When Kimberly glanced up, she explained, “It’s a copy of my contract.” Julia shrugged and then noted a mistake—the date of the unsigned contract was incorrect. “Must be a typo,” she said. “The date is wrong.”
“Legal prides itself on never making mistakes,” Kim said jokingly. “They go over every word with a fine-tooth comb before sending it out.”
Julia glanced at the date again. It had to be wrong. Trent hadn’t come back to Los Angeles to see her, until one week after the date typed in the contract. He hadn’t known anything about her losing the Bridges account until he’d seen her that night.
She’d worked with Tempest’s legal department enough to know that they were as efficient and fastidious as Kimberly had stated.
She stared at the unsigned copy of her contract, that early date glaring back at her.
Then she blinked.
“He knew,” she said under her breath, trepidation crawling up her spine.
“What?” Kim glanced up again. “Did you say something to me?”
“Uh, no.” Julia tossed the files down on her desk, deep in thought, emotions wreaking havoc with all rational thought.
She peered at Kimberly. “You know what, just leave everything here. I’ll sort through this stuff by myself and give it back to you when I’m done.”
Kim nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” she said and stood. Kim rose as well and turned to leave.
“Uh, Kim?”
“Yes?” She turned fully to face her.
“How long have you worked for Tempest? Since the beginning?”
“Yes, I was here when we opened. I transferred from the Tempest in Dallas.”
“So you’d know what my office looked like before?”
Kimberly nodded, appearing slightly puzzled and Julia added, “I’m just thinking about a color change.”
“Oh, but it’s so feminine and pretty now. It seems to suit you. Mr. Alonzo, our first marketing vice president, wanted dark oak, dark walls and dark shutters. It was so dreary, I hated coming in here.”
Julia’s heart raced. She didn’t like the suspicions bouncing around in her mind. “I don’t suppose you remember when Trent had the office remodeled?”
“I sure do! It was on my birthday. Mr. Tyler gave me the day off, so I couldn’t possibly forget that. It was on a Friday. He had a whole crew come in and redo the office and when I came back on Monday, everything had been changed. That was exactly one month ago tomorrow.”
Julia’s stomach clenched and she flinched. “One month ago?”
Before Trent had come to her apartment in Los Angeles with flowers and sweet words of apology. Had he known all along about her losing the Bridges account? Or had he…Julia closed her eyes and steadied her trembling body. Had he orchestrated her losing that account somehow?
“Yes, one month.” Once again Kim nodded, then looked at her with concern. “Is anything wrong?”
“No, I’m fine.” She managed a brief smile. “I’d better let you get back to work.”
“Okay.” Kimberly walked out of the office and Julia leaned forward, bracing her hands on the edge of her desk.
“It couldn’t be,” she muttered, while a deep sense of dread coursed through her entire system, telling her it very well could be. She knew about Trent’s bet with his brother. She knew about his competitive streak; he’d told her countless stories about besting Brock when they were younger.
Making his hotel succeed meant more than money to him. He had something to prove.
Thoughts flashed in her head.
Miracle worker.
I checked you out.
Trent’s timely reappearance in her life at about the same time he’d fired his marketing VP and one week after she’d lost the Bridges account seemed too coincidental not to have been premeditated.
She hadn’t thought about it before, but now as she glanced around her office, she noted how very well this office suited her. The wall colors and soft carpeting and even similar pieces of artwork on the side table resembled her L.A. apartment, despite the western theme. She might have thought it a nice touch, if Trent had gone to the trouble after he’d secured her employment here, rather than before.
How deceitful of him. How arrogant.
Her entire body trembled with fury. Before she condemned him to the gallows, she’d confront him. Grabbing the unsigned contract, her only tangible evidence, she strode out of her office. She filled her lungs with fortifying oxygen, yanked on Trent’s office doorknob and flung the door open.
“Hold on, Brock,” Trent said into the receiver. Covering his hand over the phone, he looked at her. “Give me a minute, darlin’. I’m almost through.”
“You’re through now,” she growled. “Hang up the phone, Trent.”
Trent’s brows rose in surprise. “What the hell?” He cast her a confounded look then returned to the phone. “I’ll call you later.” He hung up the phone and stood, gazing at her with annoyance. “What’s bothering you?”
“Just answer one question for me, Trent. Did you or did you not orchestrate my losing the Bridges account so I could work for you?”
Trent narrowed his eyes. “What gave you that idea?”
She tossed the unsigned contract onto his desk. He glanced at it, his expression giving nothing away.
“Just answer the question, Trent. Truthfully…if you’re capable.”
His brows rose and a tic worked at his jaw. “I made a deal with the restaurant chain, yeah.”
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