“Oh,” Krissa said. The poison in the pill. Crap, it must be true. Why had Nick danced with her then? No doubt about it. She was a magnet for two-timing jerks.
“We started dating way back in high school.” Angie giggled and went in for the kill. “We’ve never stayed apart for very long.”
Krissa wondered why Angie felt the need to torture her at work and in her social life.
With a quick change of gears, Angie pointed out a few people in outrageous costumes and told funny stories about them from high school. Krissa guessed Angie had finished marking her territory.
Angie and Krissa noticed Nick staring at them. Angie waved encouragingly, and Krissa declared she was going to grab another bite from the buffet. She glanced back to see the raven-haired Angie sidle up to Nick and curl her arm through his.
Would this party ever end? The punch and salsa bowl treatment from the tenth grade was looking preferable right about now.
Krissa felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Fred, who was the middle school math teacher. He invited her to dance. Krissa felt about as enthusiastic as a cat waiting for a flea powder bath. Fred gave her a toothy grin and she relented. She was here to have fun, and sitting on the sidelines like a wallflower was not an option.
The music beat on and Krissa danced with groups of gals and several other guys of all ages. She made sure she giggled at all of the silly outfits and twirled to show off her fringed vest whenever she received a compliment on her costume. As a fast dance came to an end, Krissa fanned herself with her hand and backed away from the revelers. She mimed getting a drink to quench her thirst, but she strolled straight past the bar. She was done pretending to have fun, and her head was pounding.
She hadn’t seen Nick for at least an hour, and she tried not to wonder what had happened to him. She glanced around and saw Angie dancing again with a farmer, who stared at his partner with besotted eyes. Why wasn’t the dreadful Angie wrapped up in Nick’s arms?
Ugh. Seriously, she did not care. Her temples throbbed as she rubbed her forehead and tried not to moan. Krissa gathered up her purse and marched out the door of the ballroom.
She spotted Nick standing with a resort worker who had a clipboard with a thick sheaf of papers. The slim man with the spiky hair was shaking his head. Nick said something into his phone and the clipboard guy bobbed his head repeatedly and then dashed off. Krissa watched Nick tuck his phone into his burgundy velvet jacket and then rub the back of neck with a weary look in his eyes.
Nick turned to Krissa and a slow smile spread over his face. In a few strides, he was by her side.
“Leaving already? I think the party’s just warming up,” Nick said.
“I’m good,” Krissa said. “I think I’m all danced out.” She marched through the wide hall and into the lobby, but Nick matched her pace. He seemed determined to escort her out.
“Are you okay to drive? It’s dark and there can be a lot of deer on the road. Can I give you a lift?”
What was with him?
“I’m fine,” Krissa said in a flat tone. “I barely drank anything.”
“It wouldn’t be any trouble,” Nick encouraged. “I live close by, you know.” He laughed at his own joke, and Krissa only gave a polite smile. The door of the ballroom opened and a blast of music and pounding drums filled the hallway. Nick’s voice took on a warm, sexy undertone.
“Come on. Stay for just one more dance with me.”
Krissa halted her progress through the wide, carpeted hallway. What kind of player was he? Or was Angie playing her own game? Somehow, she felt like she was the butt of a joke.
“I thought sixties flower children partied all night,” Nick said with a hint of laughter.
Krissa stared back at him with a steady gaze.
“I’m sure there is someone waiting for you,” Krissa said. “You don’t need me to fill your dance card.”
Krissa turned and stamped off to the lobby. Her blood boiled. There was no way she was going to look back and see how Nick had reacted. She felt the urge to bolt. She needed the safety of her car and a dose of silence. She picked up her pace and was almost running when she hit the front doors of the lobby. Crisp night air flowed over her face and Krissa inhaled deeply. She found her car and sank into the driver’s seat with a huff of relief.
She didn’t know if she was more angry with Nick or with herself. How could she even open herself up for one minute with a guy like Nick? He was way too smooth and sexy and definitely had a way with women. He’d flirted with her and Angie and heaven only knew who else.
She slapped her car into gear and tried not to speed out of the parking lot. As she turned south on to the county highway for the short loop back to the cottage, her temper cooled. Her thoughts wandered back to Nick and her shoulders drooped. He seemed so likable and so gorgeous. It made perfect sense that someone else already had dibs on him. While she and Nick were dancing, it seemed like he was interested in her. It certainly got her juices going. But the last thing she wanted to do was to get in the middle of another love triangle.
She’d shooed off the advances of the middle school math teacher and tried to hold her head high that she was holding firm to her resolution. She knew it was easy to resist the skinny middle school teacher because he was about as exciting as a week-old donut.
She wasn’t dating anyone, let alone the handsomest man in the whole of Wescott Springs. She wished Nick wasn’t so sexy and exciting. Why couldn’t she simply ignore him?
Her body tingled with the memory of his hard frame pressed up against her. Nice, rippling muscles. Krissa shook her head to dispel the shivers dancing up her spine. She wasn’t chasing anyone. Not anyone. Really.
Tears welled up in her eyes and the road blurred in front of her. She palmed the stupid wetness away. What a crappy night. Krissa laughed, but it echoed back like a wooden and flat bark. It felt just like that old high school dance. She might not be dripping in punch and salsa, but that Angie had certainly doused her with cold water.
Her smile twisted. Same garbage, different town. Maybe she was the problem.
“Joke’s on you again, Krissa girl,” she said out loud.
* * * *
With a flick of his wrist, Hank plopped a stack of files in front of Nick.
“At last, here are the financials from Belize,” Hank said. “My contact was a bit brusque this morning, so I’m guessing either she hates Monday mornings or perhaps there are other potential investors dividing their attentions. She faxed over this stack instead of sending it via e-mail.” Hank tipped his head sideways as if in apology.
Nick frowned and thumbed through the pile. It looked complete, but it would take hours to review. Good thing it was still early in the day.
“I rather wish I was down south right now so I could figure out who our competition is,” Nick said.
“I made some connections when we were down there,” Hank said. “I’ll make some phone calls and fish for info. I’ll act like I’m planning a long weekend getaway and that I need some tips on where to stay and dine cheaply.”
“Sounds good,” Nick said. “But make sure you keep it vague about our intentions. Make it seem like we’re losing interest and looking at property down in Punta Gorda. Remember, they don’t know that you’re in the loop. Got it?”
Hank agreed but hesitated.
“What’s on your mind?” Nick said.
“Now that the Marindon group have left, when are we headed back to Denver?”
Phil Marindon’s Wednesday visit had gone off without a hitch, and several of the executives had decided to take Nick up on his offer of a comped, extended weekend vacation at the resort. Phil Marindon had flown out Wednesday night after cocktails and dinner, but the last guest had only left early this morning.
“I’m going to stick around here,” Nick said, “but I think you can head back to Denver later today or tomorrow. Whatever works best for you. I don’t know what’s sitting on your desk moldering away.” Nick grinned at his
assistant.
“I’ll let you know later today,” Hank said, and then with a quick salute, he strode off to start his calls.
With the Marindon deal firmly pushed to his mental back burner, Nick rubbed his hands together and smiled at the challenge in front of him. Nothing like a few competitors to liven up a negotiation. Over the next few hours, he poured over the revenues, expenses, assets, and liabilities of the pair of resorts in the Caribbean. It looked very promising indeed. He was confident there were many opportunities to bump up cash flow, and the debt structures looked ripe for a deal.
With a spine-popping stretch, Nick leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. He flicked through his emails at turbo speed and only slowed down to carefully scan the personal message from Phil Marindon.
A Cheshire cat grin spilled over Nick’s face. Within the week, there’d be an offer on the Wescott Springs Resort. Nick pumped his fist. Five years of dedication to TR Robinson was about ready to hit pay dirt. Partnership was just inches away.
An image of his Uncle Ross popped into his mind, and Nick formed a mock salute skyward.
“Here’s to you, man. Best mentor a kid could ever have!”
He wished his uncle was still there to see his moment of triumph. It had been a tough battle those first few years after Uncle Ross died. He’d had to scrounge for financing when every bank in Colorado had refused to continue the resort’s business loans or offer new ones to maintain cash flow.
At twenty-two years old, the resort had been his lifeline to stability. It had been his safe haven ever since his parents had so violently died in the ten-car pileup on the interstate just outside of Denver that snowy, icy night so long ago. He wondered if his mom and dad would be proud. Of course they would. What about Uncle Ross?
Nick’s lips twisted into a grimace. Well, Ross had been ready to sell the resort and use the money to fund his retirement. So it wasn’t like it was a complete sacrilege to off-load the resort, right? A wave of guilt rushed over him.
Funny, Wescott Springs still felt like home, even after five years of living in Denver. He’d been so eager for his new opportunity with Robinson Properties that he’d barely even looked back when he left. He’d been more worried that the manager he’d hired would skim funds or let service standards lapse.
He only saw Dana and her family a few times a year when he came out to inspect the resort or oversee a big change. Hell, he’d only had dinner once in the last six months with his younger sister, Brianna, and she lived in Denver too. But it wasn’t like she made any time to come visit the resort very often.
Nick thought of Dana’s reaction at the family dinner. It was obvious that she felt like he was selling out their heritage and their childhood. Was he?
Nick popped out of his chair in one fluid movement and stood by the expansive picture window. He gazed at the crystal blue waters of the pool, the deep green of the forest, and the sparkling indigo of the lake. It was all his to survey from this vantage point.
He felt pride swell up. He and his uncle had really built something grand. It was almost impossible to imagine coming to visit Dana and her kids and not have the resort as their personal playground.
Well, he’d better get used to it. Marindon was offering for the place and that would give him the golden ticket to the boardroom.
With a quick switch of gears, Nick pivoted away from the window and headed down to the lobby. If Marindon was buying the resort, what was he going to do with Miss Krissa Courtland? She was a tenant of the business, but his lodge and the guest cottage belonged to him personally.
The ever-so-prickly and rather changeable Krissa would be less than overjoyed to be beholden to him personally. Perhaps he should go visit with Paula Besston and see what kind of long-term solution she could find for the redheaded schoolteacher.
Nick grinned. Krissa sure livened things up in town. She always had a bee in her bonnet about something. One moment she was molten silver in his arms, lighting him up with fire, and the next she was telling him off with the sharp end of her tongue.
He was ready to get to the bottom of the mystery of Krissa.
Chapter 14
KRISSA woke with a tingle of expectation. A birthday morning with a few extra minutes to snuggle deeper into the fluffy comforter. Mmm. The scent of Monday morning coffee tickled her nose and lured her out of bed.
The sky was pearly gray as she stood at the living room windows with a warm mug cradled in her hands. The sky hinted at rain and the lake was a mysterious, smooth shade of slate. A smile crept over Krissa and gladness swelled. Even a gray, glowering day couldn’t spoil her birthday. Her first birthday in her new town and her new life. Twenty-six didn’t feel so bad. Shasta bumped her leg and demanded some love.
An insistent buzzing thrummed through the house and percolated through to her brain. Buzz, buzz, buzz.
“The alarm clock, Shasta!” She slapped her hand against her forehead. “I forgot to turn off the alarm!”
She dashed back to her room as the phone starting ringing and vibrating. She stood in the doorway and looked at the phone and then the clock. Indecision. She jumped and silenced the clock with a slap and then grabbed the phone with a gasping “Hello.”
“Krissa?”
“Mom?”
“I hope I didn’t wake you, sweetheart,” her mother said. “But I wanted to catch you before you went to work.”
Krissa thought her mother’s voice sounded almost strained and wondered what new catastrophe had crashed into her life. No, it was her birthday. That was surely why she’d called.
Her mother cleared her throat and mumbled a few ahems.
“I have wonderful news,” her mother said.
Her mother paused dramatically, and Krissa wondered if the drumroll was about to queue.
“Jerry and I eloped.”
“Huh?” Krissa’s mouth fell open.
“Isn’t it lovely?” her mother enthused. “Jerry convinced me to go to Las Vegas with him the other day and well, one thing led to another, and we were having so much fun. It just seemed like the thing to do!”
An image of an Elvis impersonator gyrated through Krissa’s head. She flumped down on the edge of the bed.
“Jerry found the nicest little chapel,” her mother rattled on, “with lovely carnations and daisies everywhere. I think they were artificial, but I wasn’t really looking.”
“Oh,” Krissa said.
“It’s been wonderful, sweetie, and I even won a thousand dollars on some funny penny slot machine, and we saw Wayne Newton in concert and this amazing acrobatic circus.”
“Cirque du Soleil?” Krissa suggested in a wavering voice.
“That must have been it,” her mother said. “Well, I told Jerry that I didn’t want all the fun to end, so here we are in Miami and ready to board a cruise ship. I can’t remember all the stops, but we are going all over the Caribbean.”
“Mom?”
Krissa held the phone away from her ear, gazed at the small electronic device, and shrugged. Had her mother been abducted by aliens? Body snatched?
“I’ve got to run, sweetie,” her mother said. “Jerry’s anxious to get to the port. Boarding starts soon and I still need to call your brother. Well, anyway, Jerry and I will send you an e-mail to let you know how we go on.”
Say what? Her mother couldn’t even turn on a computer, let alone log onto the Internet.
“Okay? Well, I love you, honey,” her mother said.
“Congratulations,” Krissa said. “I’m happy for you and Jerry.” Her voice sounded flat even to her own ears.
“I knew you’d be happy for me!” her mother gushed. “I’ll call your brother. I love you.”
“Love you too,” Krissa said.
The phone clicked off, and she sat numbly for a few minutes on the side of the bed. Krissa pawed around for her coffee. Married? On a cruise? Crap. Coffee was downstairs. She definitely needed caffeine.
The alarm clock blared out and Krissa
jumped to her feet.
“Dratted snooze button.”
She precisely punched the Off button and stomped to the shower.
“Not even a ‘Happy birthday’,” she complained to no one.
* * * *
It was not a fun day at school. She plastered on a cheery grin for her students, but somehow, they knew better. Missy Evans had stumbled and dumped the entire tray of markers and watched helplessly as they scattered in every direction. After chasing down all thirty markers, she had slunk back to her desk in despair with her beloved Miss Courtland’s glare boring into her back. Joe Stone tried three ways to spell Tuscaloosa and sat down dispiritedly as Krissa coolly demanded another volunteer.
Her students looked relieved when a knock on the classroom door announced the principal. Angie beckoned urgently to Krissa. With a bright smile and perkily raised eyebrows, Krissa instructed her class to study the vocabulary at the end of Chapter Four.
Why would the principal interrupt her class? Angie led Krissa down the hallway and stopped next to the stairwell and girls’ bathroom. With a gleam in her green eyes, the black-haired beauty let Krissa know that she had missed a very important deadline to nominate any of her scholars for the best student of summer school. Did Krissa think that none of her students were worthy? Krissa couldn’t recall getting a memo or a nominating worksheet. Angie snapped that all teachers received the forms days ago. Krissa quelled a sarcastic reply. There were only five teachers, for heaven’s sake.
“If you have the form to me by lunchtime, I won’t hold your ineptitude against your students,” she said with a honeyed smile that belied the wasp sting of her words.
Angie sauntered down the stairs as if taking a victory lap. Krissa clenched her fists and chewed on her lip. She knew she hadn’t received any forms. Somehow, it didn’t seem like an accident that her inbox had been skipped. She stared at the retreating principal. Angie’s hips swung in a curvy sashay and her hair flew in a perfect rhythm. Craptastic. It had to be a deliberate oversight aimed to make Krissa look bad. Was Angie looking for reasons to fire her?
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