To Catch a Camden

by Victoria Pade

  “Until they had Roddy.”

  “For a while they had some family—parents—who helped. But when they lost them, they were on their own with Roddy and with the Larkspur and they just couldn’t maintain the standard. So yes, it went downhill. And that was when H. J. Camden swooped in.”

  “He offered to buy them out.”

  “In order to tear the Larkspur down and build a Camden store. Of course the Bronsons said no.”

  “And he increased the offer,” Derek said, stating a fact, not being confrontational at all, merely supplying what he did know about things.

  “It still wasn’t a great offer, but it wouldn’t have mattered. The Larkspur meant something to the Bronsons. More than the fact that it was their only asset and their only way to make a living. They were going through the process of having it qualified as an historic landmark, which would not only have protected it but would have brought in restoration funds. And they’re sure it would have happened if not for H. J. Camden.”

  The waiter came to remove their plates, and Derek ordered Gia’s chocolate pudding and sorbet for himself for dessert.

  When the waiter left, Derek didn’t comment on her last statement and she had the sense that he didn’t know what to say to it. But Gia felt as if she was finally letting the Bronsons be heard, so she continued.

  “H. J. Camden had political clout and the money to buy influence. Getting the Larkspur declared an historic landmark was going well until he decided he wanted the property it was on. Then all of a sudden the whole qualification process stalled. And at the same time, state inspectors became overly interested in the Larkspur and cited it with enough health and building code violations to have it condemned—”

  “Literally condemned?”

  “Literally. Inspectors said it was going to fall down around them and not only couldn’t they stay open for business, they couldn’t live there themselves anymore, either. And that was absolutely not true—they had an independent contractor look at it and he confirmed that it wasn’t in that kind of shape—”

  “And the independent contractor’s report didn’t carry any weight?”

  “Not when he was suddenly hired by Hank Camden to build Camden stores out of state and the report disappeared.”

  Derek flinched slightly at that.

  “All the hotel really needed was what the Bronsons’ house needs now—paint, plumbing and electrical repairs and updating, maybe a new kitchen—but it wasn’t falling down around their ears.”

  Derek’s frown caused his brows to twitch together, suggesting he was troubled by what Gia had told him. But he gave no response.

  She went on without one. “Larry challenged the rulings, but without the independent contractor’s report, without the money to hire another one or to hire a good lawyer, he was no match for what he found himself up against. He lost the challenges, the Bronsons couldn’t afford repairs to address the inflated building code violations and they had no choice but to close their doors and take the Camden offer. An offer that was mere pennies on the dollar of the initial offer.”

  Derek was scowling by the time the waiter served their desserts. But still Gia didn’t let up.

  “The Bronsons were left with no property, very little money and mounting expenses for Roddy. Not being able to live at the hotel meant they were even homeless. So they used the lion’s share of the money from the buyout to get the house they’re in now—”

  “Over forty years ago—shouldn’t that have been paid off years back?” he asked between bites.

  “Spoken like a finance guy. Actually, they used the money from the hotel to buy the house outright—it made them feel a little more secure after the rug being pulled out from under them. But without the hotel, they had to go to work for other people, and Roddy went through health crisis after health crisis that would keep them both away from their jobs, so they’d eventually be let go. Over the years the house had to be mortgaged and refinanced and refinanced and second mortgaged—”

  “So it isn’t paid off.”

  Again Gia was hesitant to reveal too much of the Bronson’s vulnerability, just in case, so she merely shrugged once more in answer and concluded what she was saying.

  “No matter how you look at it—and certainly it’s the way they look at it—because of what H. J. Camden did to get what he wanted, rather than being the owners of their family legacy and a Denver landmark, the Bronsons saw that legacy and landmark get bulldozed. They ended up having a life of hardship and money problems, and age and no extra retirement funds and trying to make it on a fixed income have only compounded those problems.”

  Gia watched as Derek rubbed his sculpted jawline in a gesture that conveyed discomfort. “Wow. Most of that is news to me,” he said somberly.

  Most of it, but not all of it....

  Gia noted that he didn’t say which parts were not news to him.

  Never admit to anything—that was legal advice she’d overheard given to the Grants.

  That and to put some money into a worthy cause to make themselves look better whenever ugly rumors or accusations surfaced....

  “So what you’re saying is that the Bronsons took the higher ground today by not throwing rocks or turning the hose on me,” Derek said then, clearly making a joke to ease some of the tension.

  “Kind of,” Gia answered.

  He nodded as if he understood and didn’t necessarily disagree.

  “I’m sorry if I got a little carried away,” she apologized, taking a deep breath and consciously toning it down because she realized that her own outrage on the Bronsons’ behalf might have made her sound heated.

  “It’s okay. I wanted to hear it from the Bronsons’ perspective.”

  “Oh, they get a whole lot more irate when they tell it....”

  He laughed somewhat helplessly. “Better it came from you, then,” he joked.

  The waiter brought their check at that moment and when he’d left, Derek said, “Well, today we made a little headway—we did the Bronsons’ yard. Next Saturday we’ll work on the inside of the house. And after that we’ll do whatever else needs to be done.”

  Whatever else needs to be done was not a specific commitment to anything. And yet Gia had the sense that today wasn’t the beginning and end of his involvement, that he honestly did intend to follow this through.

  But we’ll see, she told herself, unwilling and unable to trust him too much.

  He paid the bill, refusing to allow Gia to leave even the tip, and they left the restaurant.

  Darkness had fallen, and in the parking lot he bypassed his own car to walk her all the way to hers—a date-like courtesy that Gia appreciated only for the safety factor.

  Or so she told herself.

  “Can I ask a favor?” Derek said as they reached her car and she unlocked the door.

  “You can ask....”

  “I’m truly sorry for what happened to the Bronsons no matter what caused the life they’ve had and the position they’re in now. And I’ll take whatever hit they want to throw—rocks, the hose turned on me... I know that one way or another, the reality for them is that I’m a Camden and a Camden store sits in place of the hotel that—had things gone differently—they could still be benefitting from. The hotel that was their family legacy....”

  He paused before he added, “But would you try to keep in mind that I wasn’t even a twinkle in anybody’s eye at the time this went down? That I didn’t have a single thing to do with it, and that now I’m just trying to help these people the same way you are?”

  Gia didn’t immediately respond.

  The parking lot was dimly lit, but they were standing near enough for her to still see his face—which seemed to get better looking the more she saw of it—and to still look into his striking blue eyes. And she openly studied it all, thinking about
her ex, about his family, about how good they’d been at making themselves appear innocent when they were anything but.

  And yet...

  Derek was right. He hadn’t had a part in any of what had happened to the Bronsons. He couldn’t have had.

  Which didn’t mean he wasn’t responsible for similar things that could be going on now. But it did mean that she couldn’t blame him for what went on in the past.

  So she conceded to that much. “I’ll try to keep in mind that you didn’t have anything to do with the lousy deal the Bronsons got.”

  But she wouldn’t completely trust him, either.

  She couldn’t. Not for the Bronsons’ sake, and not for her own.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Because not only didn’t I have anything to do with it, I feel as badly for those people as you do.”

  Maybe she just wanted to believe that, but it somehow had the ring of truth to it. And the fact that he felt bad for the Bronsons, that he had what appeared to be genuine compassion and empathy for them, was more than she could say she’d ever seen from her ex or his family. So it bought him a slight concession from her.

  But only a slight one.

  Because feeling bad that his family did something wrong but still managed to get what it was after was not quite the same as that wrong never being done in the first place. At least as far as she was concerned.

  It also wasn’t the same as openly admitting that a wrong had been committed, renouncing whoever had committed it or relinquishing all the gains that had been made because of it.

  “The best we can do now is try to get them out of the position they’re in,” she concluded.

  He nodded and smiled an engaging smile before he said, “And they think the sun rises and sets with you. Every time I was within earshot today, they were talking about how wonderful you are. You’re like the daughter they never had. You’re a gift from God. They don’t know what they’d do without you....” He shook his head as if in amazement at the pure number of accolades he’d overheard. “They love you.”

  “I think of them as a gift to me, too,” she said. “It’s one of those when-a-door-closes-a-window-opens things.”

  Derek nodded again, accepting that without questioning exactly what she meant.

  Instead, he seemed more intent on studying her the way she’d studied him moments earlier. He seemed to appreciate the sight as much as she had, because another small smile appeared on his handsome face.

  A small smile that drew her attention to his mouth. To such supple-looking lips...

  And somehow she just knew he would be a good kisser. Though she had no idea why the thought crossed her mind.

  Or why she was suddenly wishing—just a little—that he wouldn’t be quite as chivalrous as he was being and actually kiss her good-night to let her test her theory....

  But he didn’t.

  And he was true to his word—he also didn’t make any move to open her door for her, so Gia finally did it herself, knowing she needed to go home and escape any kind of kissing thoughts whatsoever.

  “So next Saturday,” she said as she got in, attempting to neutralize the effect he was having on her.

  He stepped up to close her door. “I’ll be there,” he assured her as she rolled down her window. “Text me a time.”

  “I’ll send out a blanket reminder,” she said as she started her engine.

  “And I’ll see you then. Have a nice week...” he said, stepping away from the car after a slap to the roof.

  “You, too. And thanks for dinner...and your help today.”

  He merely raised his chin to that and stayed where he was, watching as she backed out of the parking spot, waving as she drove off.

  It was a wave that Gia returned only half-heartedly, but not because of anything to do with him.

  She was just aggravated with herself.

  For feeling suddenly like a week was a very, very long while to wait to see him again....

  Chapter Four

  “Hey, Tommy, how’s the foot? Jeanine—I like the haircut! Mitch, I owe you a ten spot—you were right about Dallas on Sunday. Tammy, how are you doin’ today? I was told our fearless leader was in here somewhere....”

  Gia was at the back of one of the Health Now greenhouses on Friday when she heard the greetings to her coworkers. It didn’t take her more than a split second to recognize Derek Camden’s voice carrying through the greenery, and another split second to recall that he’d met those particular coworkers doing the Bronsons’ yard work.

  What she hadn’t been aware of was how familiar he’d become with them all. And she couldn’t help being impressed by what he noticed and remembered, and how friendly he sounded. He’d also impressed her coworkers, if their warm responses to him were any indication because they all greeted him in return as if he was their favorite person, the last of them informing him of her location and that she was planting gingko.

  “Hey there!” he said when he finally found her.

  “Hey there yourself,” Gia answered without masking her surprise to see him, wiping her hands on a damp cloth as she turned from her pots, seeds and soil.

  She’d spent the entire week fighting constant thoughts of him, and she could have kicked herself when the very first thing that had popped into her mind when she’d woken up this morning was that there was only another twenty-four hours until she was going to see him again. But having him show up at work was just a shock.

  And then an unwarranted disappointment when it occurred to her that he was probably there to make an excuse for why he wouldn’t be at the Bronsons’ tomorrow....

  “What are you doing here? Oh, wait, careful! Don’t lean against that, you’ll get dirt on your suit,” she warned before he had the chance to answer.

  He glanced down at his suit coat, which was tan but had a mauve cast to it, and brushed away the dirt he’d rubbed against before she’d stopped him.

  And in that moment, Gia took in the full image of the tall, broad-shouldered man dressed for his work in a suit that couldn’t have been better tailored, a dress shirt that was off-white with that same mysterious mauve cast and a brown and mauve tie knotted at his throat.

  She registered that he looked jaw-droppingly terrific, and then pushed that thought out of her head.

  Which might not have been the best thing, because what replaced it was the sudden awareness of her own appearance.

  Today was planting day—a day spent in the heat of the greenhouse. And since it required nothing other than working with soil, seeds and plants, she was dressed in worn-out sandals, jean shorts and a tank top, and her hair was a curly geyser bursting from a rubber band at the top of her head to keep it off her neck. Plus, there wasn’t any use applying makeup that would melt in the greenhouse heat, so she hadn’t.

  It was not how she wanted to be seen by him, and a wave of self-consciousness struck her.

  “I came to see if I could take you to lunch.”

  “I can’t go anywhere with you dressed like that and me like this!” she blurted out.

  He looked her up and down and grinned. “I don’t know about me, but you’re kind of adorable. You just look summery—what’s wrong with that? We’ll go someplace casual, with a patio where we can eat al fresco.”

  From behind the Echinacea, Jeanine said, “Go, Gia.”

  She had brought a shirt to put on over the tank top to go home....

  But that wasn’t going to upgrade her look much.

  “Come on,” Derek urged. “Get me out of this heat—I wanted to talk to you about the Bronsons.”

  So he hadn’t come for her.

  Gia knew it was stupid, but that disappointed her, too.

  “If you can’t make it tomorrow just say it—”

  “That’s not what I want to talk about—
I’ll be there tomorrow. But that’s part of what I need to go over with you.”

  “It’s time for lunch anyway, you might as well,” Jeanine contributed.

  Gia knew that Derek had to be more and more uncomfortable in the greenhouse heat, and since he just wanted to talk about the Bronsons, why should she care what she was wearing? So she gave in. “Okay, but nothing fancy—there’s a sandwich place down the street with a few tables outside. Maybe we could just do that.”

  “Nothing fancy, sandwiches are fine,” he agreed.

  “I have a shirt I can put on. Let’s go out back here,” she said, leading him to a rear door and ushering him to the outdoor gardens.

  “There’s more out here?”

  “And more greenhouses, too,” Gia told him, pointing to the other two built around the perimeters of the outdoor garden.

  “Greenhouses to grow in year-round, this garden to grow in the summer months, huh?”

  “Right. We’re watching for predictions of the first frost—we’ll harvest just before that happens and then close these gardens down for winter. But right now—” She bent down and said to the pale purple flowers, “You’re beautiful, aren’t you?”

  “You talk to your plants....”

  “They’re living things,” she said.

  “That smell like—”

  “It’s thyme. We use it in antiseptic and antifungal creams, and in cough medicine. It’s good for bronchial infections. The leaves can be made into a tea, too.”

  “Also good in food,” he supplied.

  “Also good in food,” she confirmed.

  “So you grow all this?” he asked as Gia led him along the path through the plants and into the main building.

  “We do. They’re our babies, we plant them and nurse them along, then harvest and turn them over to production where some of them are ground and put into capsules or tablets, or pressed for their oils, or whatever can be done with them.”

  “And this stuff works like medicine?” he asked skeptically.

  “This stuff has been around longer than contemporary medicine. It’s what people used before there were chemicals. Sometimes the effects are more subtle or they take a little while to build up before they work, but rather than take chemicals to get rid of heartburn, give me gum or a peppermint leaf to chew, or an orange to eat, or a pill that doesn’t have anything in it but orange oil.”