Her First Knight - The Beginning: Storm Lake (Under-Cover Knights Book 2)

by Livia Quinn

  When she saw the extent of stock for sale—fabrics, accessories, costumes and all of it in such superb condition—she’d bid on it until it was hers. Included in the sale had been armoires, chests, trunks and even a lovely Queen Anne sitting ensemble.

  It was quite a coup and a great start to her agency’s costume closet. Many of her clients required that she use a costume only once for a shoot and they were very specific about what they wanted. The rolls of sumptuous fabric would give her backdrops and costumes a standout quality compared to some of her competition.

  Her first thoughts of Ridge intruded when she hit the causeway. “There you go worrying again.” She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d seen the last of him, and her heart ached at the thought. It would have been so easy to let him invest, knowing all her startup costs would be take care of. But she couldn’t bear to take his money and have to see him even occasionally, after he walked away from a relationship with her.

  She wanted him here right now so badly, her teeth hurt. That’s because you’re grinding them, she thought, a definite no-no in model land. He was kidding himself, making excuses to keep from committing, but reality was that he was gone, and who knew when, or if, he’d be back. “Grandma Lillie would have your tongue if she heard you think that.”

  She passed a line of trucks and glanced over the side of the causeway toward the water and the abandoned and decaying shacks that stood as a testament to the horrific storms of the last decade.

  She just needed to keep her mind occupied, turn off her personal concerns and hope the Calloway magic was working. That should be a breeze today. Ted was supposed to get an answer from the property owner, and she’d scheduled three more interviews and two meetings with salesmen in the late afternoon, banking on good news. She also had to arrange for someplace to have her new purchases delivered and stored until the paperwork on the building went through.

  She was running behind the eight ball it seemed, after thinking she had everything covered. Her father had warned her that everything would take twice as long as expected, due to delays in shipping, printing, manufacturing, closing on property, getting insurance. Yeah, she definitely had enough to keep her busy.

  Then Ted called. “How long before you’ll be here, Buffy?”

  Buffy checked her gas gauge. “I have to stop for gas so I’m thinking forty-five minutes.”

  “Okay, I’m going to grab lunch and I’ll meet you here then.”

  “Wha—” He’d already hung up. “Oh, I don’t like the sound of that,” she whispered. She had a tele-con with a prospective costume designer at three and how could she keep putting her plans and hiring off? She would lose the momentum she’d gained from the recent conference and interviews from her trip.

  When she drove into the small parking lot across the street from Calloway Properties, Ted drove up beside her. “Let’s take a ride.” She frowned but locked her car and slipped into his Lexus sedan. “How did the auction go?” he asked as he headed down the road.

  “I’m very pleased with what I picked up. I have the interview with a prospective costume designer this afternoon and I’ll have something very enticing to offer. No more stalling, Ted. Tell me.”

  He looked out the side window and back at her, his shoulders sagging. “I’m sorry, Sis. They won’t do a lease, not even with an option. They want a straight purchase.”

  Buffy’s heart sank. “What am I going to do, Ted?”

  “Well, they did give me some good news. They came down on the price and they’ll give you the guarantee clause you wanted. They’re not moving out until the end of the year, so we have time to strategize.”

  “What good is that going to do? I’ve already been to the bank. Even the money I have, that isn’t going to be needed for startup expenses, isn’t enough for the down payment the bank wants to make the loan. I’m telling you, they want you to practically buy it outright.”

  “There’s still the property in Thunder Point.”

  She shook her head, feeling sick. “I can’t give up, Ted. I can’t.” They went through the gate to Calloway Farms and she looked at him.

  “Family council.”

  She rolled her eyes and her head dropped back on the leather seat. Being part of such a close family had its perks and its trials. She knew what was coming.

  An hour later she was still arguing with her parents and their parents, and their parents. Theo said, “Baby, you’d just be getting an advance on your inheritance.” Was he kidding her? If her parents took after their grandparents, she wouldn’t have an inheritance until she was in her seventies. Besides, she didn’t want to take their money.

  “You’re so stubborn,” her mother said. Buffy thought of it as independent. She’d been that way when she set out at fourteen for parts unknown. It was part of her own creative expression. Wanting to succeed on your own wasn’t a bad thing, was it?

  Grandpa Earl asked, “Where’s that man of yours, Buffy-top?”

  “He… went back to work.” She couldn’t look him in the eye.

  “Aw, honey,” Grandma Lillie said. “Did y’all have a fight? It was because of what Earl said, wasn’t it? You old coot! Don’t you know anything about being subtle?”

  “Ah, you mean lyin’? That boy has a good head on his shoulders. He’ll come ‘round, you just wait. It’ll go as it’s meant to go.”

  Lillie and Buffy rolled their eyes. Lillie glared at Pamela, “And you didn’t help, either.”

  Pamela said, “I’m the only one around here that can relate to what that poor young man is going through. I didn’t believe in the Calloway magic either but it’s hard to deny the track record.”

  Grandma Roberta just nodded her head and kept knitting. Lillie and Pamela walked her out to the car, and Pamela asked, “Sweetheart, are you sure of this?”

  Buffy put her arm around her mother. “I love you all so much for offering, but this is something I just need to do. Ridge offered to invest last night, to buy the industrial park office and pay for all startup expenses. But,” her eyes watered, “I—I just couldn’t do it.” Her voice cracked. “Call it stubborn or call it pride, but I know what I have to do to make my dream come true.”

  She walked toward Ted’s car, where he stood patiently waiting. Her grandmother said, “You did the right thing with Ridge, honey. Just wait it out. I know it’s hard.”

  Pamela glared at Lillie, “Sometimes…”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “You’re what!” Ted’s mouth dropped open and then he spun away shoving his hands through his short brown hair. His brows wrinkled and he emphasized his words with his clenched fists. “Buffy, don’t do this. Please,” his voice holding a note of anguish. For her.

  “I’ve decided,” she said. “I’m selling the house. I know it’s worth enough for a sizable down payment, and you said yourself several times you’ve had numerous people ask about it.”

  “Yes, but I wasn’t trying to get you to sell it. You love that house.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders. He was younger than her by two years but you wouldn’t know it. Tall and broad, he had piercing green eyes, which had come to him courtesy of Roberta. It softened his looks. Those eyes had gotten him countless dates.

  She raised her hand to his cheek. “Be a sweetheart, Teddy, and get me the latest appraisal. Then, after my appointments we can discuss it and put it on the market. I have to run a quick errand but I’ll be back. I love you, Ted. It’s all going to be okay.” She kissed him on the cheek and ran across the street to her car.

  Ted stood there watching her as if she’d lost her mind. There was a little bit of heartache for her on his face as well. Once again, she was glad to be home and even more adamant about opening her business anywhere but Larue.

  An hour later, the driver of her white Porsche dropped her off at the front steps of the office. Ted had been watching through the window. His head turned toward her as she walked past him. “You sold your car.”

  With her game face on s
he smiled, “I did. And there’s about $95,000 more in my account right now than there was.”

  “But…” he shook his head. “You had to wait two years on that car.”

  She put her hands on her hips, knowing she’d be unable to keep up the front much longer. Throat tight, she said a little more forcefully than she intended, “It’s just a car, Ted.” She walked toward her office calling over her shoulder before she lost it in front of him, “Did you find the appraisal?”

  “It’s on your desk,” he said. “And your next appointment just drove up.”

  Frances Sangrea was in her mid thirties. She was a college graduate with two daughters who’d just entered high school. “My husband and I always planned for me to go back to work full-time once the youngest entered the tenth grade. I haven’t got a lot of experience, but I know computers and I’m willing to learn whatever. I’ve taken online courses in all phases of office management and customer service.”

  Frances had an outgoing personality and the personal references she listed just happened to include Buffy’s grandmother. “You know Lillie?” Buffy asked.

  “Yes, Ma’am. I’ve done some part time work in the past. I helped your grandmother organize the house when your Greats moved in. I love her to death.”

  “Well her recommendation carries a lot of weight with me. Frances, are you in a hurry to have full-time hours? Could you work up to full-time if I could give you part-time work now?”

  “Ms. Calloway, honestly, I’m thrilled to finally get the chance use my training, but I’m a little nervous, so easing into the work would be great for me. What kind of business is it?”

  “We produce stock photos for books, trailers, and marketing. Our clients will be publishers, marketing firms, and authors. And as soon as we can we’ll move into video trailers and talent casting for film productions that come to our area. I’m in the process of purchasing the location now.” She prayed that was true. “You will be one of several employees, including set and costume designers, models, artists, and a digital staff.”

  “Sounds exciting,” she said and Buffy thought it an honest reaction. She liked Frances, had a good feeling about her and decided to give her a try. “You’re hired, Frances.” She held out her hand.

  The woman shook Buffy’s hand then squealed and threw her arms around her. “Oh, thanks, Ms. Calloway.”

  “Just make it Buffy, okay? I’m as happy to have my first employee as you are to have a job, believe me. Can you start tomorrow?”

  They discussed attire, pay and a schedule that would work for the rest of the week and Frances promised to be there the next morning to meet the phone serviceman.

  Buffy explained, “I’m selling my house, so there will be a few things I have to take care of the next couple of days. Once the phone is in, I’ll leave a list of people you can call to set up some appointments. There won’t be much to do for a few days. If you’d like to pick up extra hours, you might ask Ted if he wants you to answer his phone too.”

  Buffy was relieved to have hired someone but now she had to go say goodbye to her beautiful home. Two hours later, she was sitting in front of the fire, a real one this time since it might be her last, having her second scotch on the rocks. She wasn’t that fond of scotch; she’d bought it with Ridge in mind, so it seemed fitting that she drink the last of it.

  “Might as well have a clean sweep—house, car, and man. Damn man would rather have his responsibilities to keep him warm, instead of making a life with me,” she said, as the doorbell rang. “Well, crap. Doesn’t anybody call anymore?” She stood a little unsteadily and walked to the front door.

  She opened it to four familiar faces, Pamela, Lillie, Roberta and Victoria. They walked in solemnly. Pamela took the scotch from her hand, and the others gathered her in for a group hug as she burst into tears.

  Three days later, Ted walked into her office and handed her a check for $450,000. “Done.”

  “Wow, that was fast.” Buffy wished she could smile but the thought of moving out of her house and into the cottage on her grandparents’ farm just depressed her. That part of her life seemed to be in retrograde. “Who bought it?”

  “A big company up north. They bought it for their executives, said they’ll probably turn it into a huntin’ camp since there’s so much land.”

  Buffy cringed, picturing her beautiful hardwood floors scuffed and covered in gumbo and camouflage with muddy boots thrown around.

  “They wanted to know if you’d be willing to leave the furnishings for a few months. I told their GM you were moving to a furnished house.”

  “Whatever. I don’t have the energy or the time to take care of it right now anyway. Now that I have an actual business location, I have to get started on ordering equipment, contacting designers, models, and…” she waved her hands … “everything else.” She needed a hug and Ted gave her a little motion with his hand.

  “Come ‘ere.” He set his head on hers and rubbed her back. “It’s going to be okay, ya’ know…”

  She nodded. “It’s okay, right now, little brother.” She looked up at him and this time, she smiled. “I’m about to get my dream, baby.” With a half-hearted, “Woo hoo,” she slapped palms with Ted in a high-five.

  Chapter Thirty

  Ridge walked down the sidewalk near his office in Monterey, California. The winds off the ocean were cool late in October. He’d been to see Belinda and Carrie.

  Carrie was growing up so fast and looking a little less like John these days. It was sad in some ways but they both seemed happy. He’d taken them to dinner and Belinda had turned to him when Carrie walked over to the big aquarium on the back wall of the restaurant. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Ridge, I’ve been seeing someone.”

  Ridge had almost dropped his fork. He swallowed, “You have? I…that is, I’m… glad.”

  She smiled and patted him on the hand. “You don’t sound glad.”

  “No, I am, really.” But was he?

  “Ridge, it’s okay. I understand. The counselors have helped me so much to understand what we’ve all gone through, including you. Being close to me and Carrie, keeps John alive for you. For both of us. But, that’s not good enough anymore. Not for either of us. I can’t live in the past, and you need to let John go.” Her eyes were clear and she was more confident than he’d ever seen her. She seemed at peace.

  Ridge’s throat clogged and he coughed. “I have come to terms with John’s… suicide.”

  Her lips twisted as she chose her words. “When you do really let him go, maybe you can find someone and settle down, instead of throwing all your energy into these causes. I’m not saying they’re not great causes and what in the world would we have done without you, but Ridge, please for John’s sake as well as your own. Get a life. Carrie needs some cousins to play with.”

  He nodded, though he wasn’t sure he knew how to go about letting them go. She insisted on taking a cab back to the base and told Ridge to call before he came next time, because ‘she might have company’.

  Then, she’d hugged him and with tears in her eyes, she said, “I’ll always love you. You’re the brother I never had. You’ve really been there for us, but please… go for it. You deserve it and, oh, God, John would want that for you.” Her voice cracked but she smiled and kissed him goodbye. “Call me after the vote, okay?”

  “Bye, Uncle Ridge,” Carrie waved from the back window and the cab pulled away.

  Feeling as if he’d been set adrift and not knowing what to do with himself for the next hour, Ridge wandered down the main drag to the Book Antiqua, a bookstore and coffee shop. He drew up sharply when he saw the giant poster on the window and beside it the latest copy of Vanity Fair. His jaw dropped.

  Both the poster and the magazine announced the upcoming vote in Washington, with an image that made Ridge want to wring one beautiful redhead’s neck. Ridge, in that Navy Seal uniform, bare chested, looking off into the distance with the caption below: BE A HERO.

  Behind him were
other images of veterans from all the wars, some in wheelchairs, one at attention with a prosthetic leg; and some of them were men he’d met. At the bottom across one of Ridge’s thighs was an invitation to all service men and women and the general public to attend a local march in participating cities, or the National March in D.C. on Veterans Day in cooperation with a dozen Veterans organizations and several chapters of the Association of Independent Romance Writers. Meet your favorite authors, attend signings, and support our troops.”

  In bold letters at the bottom it read: Tell your representatives to vote YES for HR-6159. Call 800-555-1515 for more information.

  Buffy had said they weren’t just writers. They were wives of service men, soldiers themselves, and involved with veterans issues. And as if she’d sent a message straight to him, she’d gotten the poster’s image on the cover of Vanity Fair. (He didn’t want to look at the back cover.)

  The woman had balls; he’d give her that. And wasn’t that what he lov— He pinched his eyes shut, but those gorgeous blue eyes, and that face, so sincere and determined when she threw that cover down in front of him, were the only things he could see. He examined the poster more closely. He couldn’t even find it in himself to begrudge the Navy tattoo PhotoShopped onto his upper arm.

  From behind him he heard, “Drool worthy, huh?”

  He turned to find two women admiring the poster and magazine in the window. One said to, “Martin wants me to get the number so we can find out where the march is in San Francisco.”

  Her eyes widened when she saw Ridge. Looking from him to the poster and back she cried, “Oh, it’s you! Ridge Romano.”

  Her eyes immediately filled and she hugged him. “You are a hero to us, Mr. Romano. Thank you for what you’re doing, and to everyone involved. We’ve seen a difference on the local level since the campaign started, individuals volunteering to drive vets to their doctor’s appointments, or help them fill out their paperwork. They get really discouraged. Be a friend, that’s what I say. And more of our vets from the base are finding work locally, too. This national march has helped to put the needs in the public eye. You can count on us.”