by Petrova, Em
“Crystal,” Ben answered. He turned away and stalked up the stairs.
“This will be the end of Ben’s shenanigans. He doesn’t want to spend a night in lock-up.” Caleb lifted the Quality-Mart bags into his arms and walked into the house.
Josselyn followed him to the kitchen, her doubts pouring out. “Maybe for tonight it might end, but not for good. He can’t be reasoned with. Ben is a very angry man. He won’t stop until he has this house for himself.” Once again, tears welled up into her eyes.
Even though Caleb Smith was being polite, it wasn’t fair to put this stranger into her personal situation any more than on a professional basis. She struggled for a polite tone.
“Would you like to stay for a cup of coffee? I bought an automatic drip, and it won’t take a minute to set up.”
“If it’s okay, I’ll take a rain check on the coffee. I’m still on the clock until morning, so I really need to get back on the road again.”
“Sure, stop by anytime,” she offered.
Watching the taillights of the patrol car disappear into the distance, Josselyn felt like a lifeline had vanished.
Chapter Two
Ben Parnell decided the house was a dirty, disgusting, dust-filled hovel. He blew his nose for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, followed by a prolonged fit of sneezing. It was the worst time ever for his allergies to kick in, especially when he didn’t even have one antihistamine tablet in his bag.
Sitting on the edge of the bed in the bedroom he occupied growing up, he rubbed circles over his throbbing temples. Too tired to drive to the Quality-Mart, he felt so poorly he actually considered asking the enemy if she had any allergy medication, or at least an aspirin.
Josselyn. Somewhere in this house lurked the petite, raven-haired stranger with big doe-like brown eyes, who invaded his life and threatened to ruin all of his plans. Who was this woman, anyway?
He never thought much about his father having a female companion. To Ben, Morgan was Dad, but he had been a man as well. Quite likely, Josselyn, who was at least twenty-five years younger than his father, was more than just a friend. That he hadn’t married her was small solace. Challenging a wife would be much more difficult than battling a girlfriend.
Just when he thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, they did. This latest chapter in his life was proof. Three weeks earlier, he decided to spend some time in Malibu, visit his mother at her summer home, surf, and soak up the sun.
He arrived back at his apartment in Mount Pleasant, more relaxed and refreshed than he felt in months. Then he found the answering machine message from his Aunt Maribelle, informing him his father passed away at his home in Miami almost a week earlier. He had known for some time his father was ill, yet his death came as an unexpected blow. To make matters worse, Ben missed the funeral.
When the copy of the will arrived, he wasn’t surprised to be left the family home in Unity, and Mirabelle the house in Miami.
Taking an extended leave from his medical practice, he referred his clients to other hematologists, and returned to Unity to spend a few months in solitude and to refurbish the old house.
The only thing left back the city, besides his medical practice, was an apartment. Not one person there mattered to him any longer. When things became rough, all the people he thought meant something to him, including his fiancée, bailed.
Years ago, he couldn’t wait to trade his hometown for the allure of the big city. The city no longer sparkled, and he longed for home. Still, Unity presented its own painful memories.
The air hung still and hot in the bedroom. He rolled side to side on the bare mattress in an unsuccessful attempt at sleep. Giving up, he tried to open a window, but it wouldn’t budge. Most likely, the last tenants carelessly painted it shut.
Sleep wouldn’t come, and with his misery on the rise, he went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. Maybe he could try to sleep downstairs on the couch.
As he left the bathroom, rubbing his weary eyes, the soft, warm body of a woman bounced off of him in the darkness of the hallway. He steadied the wobbling Josselyn, allowing his fingers to momentarily caress the satiny bare skin of her upper arm.
“Hey, be careful, girl,” he warned. The scent coconut and vanilla on her skin and hair filtered into his nostrils.
She took a giant step back. “I’m just fine. I could be better though, if your coughing and sneezing wasn’t keeping me up all night.”
“Well, you can always pack up and go back to wherever it is you came from.”
“And give you the satisfaction of taking my home away from me? Not on your life, Ben Parnell. It’s late, and I’m not arguing with you anymore. Good night.”
The next hour, Ben sat in a wing chair in front of the open living room window. He breathed in the cool night air and considered his situation. Maybe he should give in and let Josselyn have the house. In the brief amount of time here, he could tell the house was in far worse condition than he expected. He wasn’t even sure he had the patience or the time required to refurbish it.
For years following his parents’ divorce, the house had been a rental. The endless parade of families coming and going over time took its toll. From a once beautiful, meticulously maintained family home, it was now mothing more than a rundown shell of its former glory, spiraling into a money pit to restore it.
His pride, however, was stronger than his doubt. To give in to one curvy brunette wasn’t an option. Recently he conquered a far worse situation and emerged victorious. This latest blip would not result in failure.
Finally, around five, he fell asleep on the couch. When he woke again, the sun streamed in the front window. The sweet smell of freshly brewed hazelnut coffee filled the air. A few feet away, a fan blew cool air upon him. A box of antihistamine tablets lay on his chest. Maybe this was Josselyn’s attempt at a truce.
He sat up and pushed the hair from his face. He would take a shower, and then drive to the nearest fast food place for a big cup of take-out coffee to clear his head. First, he needed a glass of water to soothe his parched throat.
In the kitchen, Josselyn was on her knees with a bucket of soapy water scrubbing out the inside of a cupboard. Well, great. She was more than welcome to clean the house.
He cleared his throat to announce his presence. She didn’t notice or was pointedly ignoring him. Nevermind. Opening a cabinet above her, he removed the lone glass from the dusty shelf. When he turned on the tap, a gush of brown water splashed into the sink.
“Does anything seem strange to you about the water?” he asked.
Josselyn stopped soaping and looked up from the cupboard. From seeing her the night before, he knew she was a pretty woman, but in the light of day, just how beautiful she really was startled him. Her long, straight mane of hair fell in silken waves on her shoulders, the blackness of her hair contrasted with the porcelain tone of her skin. Her eyes were a deep shade of brown any man could lose himself in. No wonder his father fell for her. She bewitched his father with her face.
“The water’s brown, I know. Later today I’m going to turn on all the taps and try to flush the pipes. You can have a cup of coffee if you want. I made it with bottled water,” she offered, and then went back to scrubbing the cupboard.
On the butcher block kitchen table were three ceramic mugs with the word “coffee” inscribed on each.
He was about to refuse her offer, but the enticing smell of the coffee caused his stomach to rumble. “Thanks, I think I will.”
As he sipped the smooth tasting brew, he watched her work. If his gaze upon her disturbed her, she hid it well. All he could think about was this stranger in the kitchen of his family home, scrubbing out cupboards as if they were her own. He was powerless to stop her unless he wanted to be arrested by an over-anxious cop who was just waiting to slap the chains on his wrists.
She acts just like she owns the place.
From out of nowhere, he blurted, “Who are you?”
; Looking up, she blew a tendril of black hair away from her eyes. Her makeup free face conveyed a look of almost child-like innocence. “I’m Josselyn.”
He rolled his eyes. “I know that. I mean, how did you know Morgan?”
“I was his nurse,” she answered.
It all made sense. “They always go for their nurse,” he muttered under his breath.
She stood and dumped the soapy sponge into the bucket of water. “Excuse me?”
“I’m a doctor. I’ve seen this before. Sick old man hires the young, sexy nurse. The next thing you know, he’s in a one-sided love affair and signing over everything he owns to her.”
“I don’t like your insinuation. I’m a good nurse, and I took excellent care of your father when you should have been there. He was calling for you, Ben. You didn’t even have the human decency to make contact with him before he died. Not a phone call, an email, a letter—nothing! You couldn’t even bring yourself to attend his funeral. You hate your father, but you want his house.”
She stalked across the floor and threw open the back door.
For a moment, he stood tongue-tied by her outburst, but recovered quickly. He didn’t owe this woman any explanations, but she needed to be put in her place. He would not be branded a monster. He crossed the kitchen floor until he stood behind her.
“I didn’t know Morgan was so ill. I wasn’t at the funeral because I was in California, and I didn’t know he died until a few days ago.”
“Why do you call your father by his first name? It’s disrespectful.”
“He didn’t act like a father to me. If you were nothing more than an employee, why do you call him Morgan and not Mr. Parnell?” he countered.
“I loved Morgan, but not the way you think.”
“You could at least look at me when you speak.” He touched her shoulder.
She recoiled and took another large step away before turning to him. Obviously, Josselyn Adler was a woman who required a lot of personal space.
When he gazed into her eyes, all he could see was pain. Maybe she was telling him the truth, or maybe she was a superb actress. Regardless of which, she still didn’t belong here. Continuing the conversation any longer was pointless. They weren’t getting anywhere but more frustrated, and he had places to go.
“Thanks for the coffee, Josselyn. I’ll see you around, I guess.”
***
Josselyn breathed a huge sigh of relief when Ben’s Corvette pulled away from the curb. The man had the ability to rattle her, and she couldn’t let him see his effect on her or he would exploit it. She was glad Morgan wasn’t around to see what a sullen, angry man his son had become. It would have broken his already fragile heart.
The locksmith arrived and changed the locks. Ben would not lock her out again, but unlike Ben, she would make sure he had keys. Because she cared so much for Morgan, she was determined to do her best to remain cordial to his son, even though he would continue to make her life miserable.
She spent the morning cleaning before she rented a steam cleaner from the Quality-Mart. After steaming the living room suite and carpet, she finally settled down at the kitchen table with a well-deserved cup of coffee and an apricot pastry, while she surveyed her surroundings.
The old kitchen with its outdated appliances and white metal cabinets with dangerously sharp edges, gleamed in the sunlight shining through the crystal clear window. Although the linoleum was old and the pattern faded with age, it was squeaky clean and smelled lemony fresh from her labor. The white table cloth, red placemats, and new curtains added a nice homey touch.
A knock at the front door drew her attention. Since she knew no one in Unity, she peeked out of the window. A mid-size coupe was parked on the street. To her pleasant surprise, Caleb Smith stood at her door.
Casually dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, he looked a lot different than when he was in his official Unity Police Department uniform. His hair was a stunning shade of deep red, and his eyes green. His bulging biceps and flat belly hinted at regular visits to the gym.
“Come on in.” She smiled at the first friendly face she met in Unity.
He stepped inside. “After what happened last night, I wanted to check in on you and make sure Ben wasn’t giving you a hard time.”
She was touched by his kindness. “Ben is behaving for the most part. He’s been out of the house since this morning. Come into the kitchen. I just steam cleaned the living room, so everything’s still a bit damp.”
Over coffee, Caleb told her about himself. He was forty-two, twice divorced with no children, and owned a home in a new housing development at the edge of town. He knew Ben Parnell only as an acquaintance from high school. He summed up Ben as arrogant, haughty, and aware of his own self-importance.
In return she told him a bit about herself, skimming the surface of her life while carefully skirting the subject of her family or upbringing.
Caleb Smith was an affable, decent man. She certainly considered a potential new friend, and he seemed to like her as well. She really wasn’t interested in anything more. Gaining rightful ownership of the house was paramount, with plenty of time for romance when everything was settled. Still, with her tenuous relationship with Ben Parnell, having an ally from the Unity Police Department could prove to be beneficial. Just in case.
***
That afternoon Ben found himself at the home of Nick Lincoln. Although they grew up together, and were close friends, they gradually drifted apart when Ben left for college in the city. Nick stayed in Unity and married his high school sweetheart. Nick’s wife had since passed away.
Although his secretary sent an arrangement of flowers, Ben hadn’t attended her funeral or even called his longtime friend to offer his condolences. Maybe Nick didn’t hold his absence and lack of personal attention against him. He sure needed to see a friendly, familiar face today.
Nick owned the perfect lakefront cottage with peaceful wooded surroundings. Ben could lose himself for hours alone in a rowboat on the tranquil water.
The reed thin man with hair tied back in a ponytail who opened the door was not Nick.
“Hi there, can I help you?”
“I’m sorry; I’m looking for Nick. I guess he doesn’t live here anymore.”
“I’m Ryan Maine. I bought this house from Nick about a year ago. He moved with his wife and baby girl to the new Sugar Creek subdivision on Plantation Road. They live at number 55, I believe.”
Nick had remarried and had a child. Nick Lincoln was a good man. He deserved to be happy. Ben wished he could find the same happiness.
Everything changed since he left. Subdivisions, along with new stores, businesses, and restaurants were popping up all over the outskirts of Unity. People he once been close to had gone on with their lives. He was the stranger in his own hometown.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Ben Parnell.” He extended his hand. “Would you mind if I hung around the lake for a while?”
“Of course not, it’s a beautiful day. Enjoy yourself.”
Ben sat in the shade of a fifty-year-old oak tree. His head rested against its solid trunk, while he stared at the rippling water, soothed by its gentle sound. He wished in vain for a voice from above to whisper the solutions to all of his problems.
Earlier in the day, he telephoned his Aunt Mirabelle in Miami, hoping to glean some information regarding Josselyn. Before he could ask her even one question, Mirabelle slammed the phone down.
He made contact with his attorney regarding the situation with the wills. No easy answers were given. Research needed to be carried out. The wills needed to be authenticated by a certified document examiner. Papers needed to be drawn up and filed with the court.
To prove himself the rightful owner of the house was going to be a long, potentially expensive endeavor, especially if Josselyn decided to drag her feet. He had a solution in mind she might accept though.
The real truth of the matter was he really didn’t know what his father was thinking before his
death. That Morgan really did love Josselyn was entirely possible, and the will he had was nothing more than an evil, spiteful act of revenge by the old man.
Old man.
Morgan Parnell had not been an old man when he met his death. He was only fifty-nine, too young to be gone forever. He remembered his father as a strong, confident, and determined human being. When he was half of Ben’s age, he already had a wife, a child, and a mortgage. All while attending college and later, medical school. He worked hard and built a successful family medical practice. Things didn’t fall so sadly apart until after Meaghan died.
In comparison, Ben was forty, with no family and no home to call his own. Though a successful hematologist, he luckily escaped the big city with his license intact, and what little good reputation he still had.
Definitely not the way he imagined his life to be at forty. The stark realization hurt so much the feeling was palpable. Taking every ounce of willpower he still possessed, he pushed the pain deep down into somewhere cold and dark inside himself. Everything was catching up with him, and he was physically and emotionally exhausted with no relief in sight.
***
Ben arrived at the house and was at once incensed. The front door was unlocked; inviting any stranger off the street to walk in. Not that there was anything worth stealing. He would welcome someone coming in to haul off all of the junk. He would speak with Josselyn about keeping the doors locked, for safety if nothing else.
To his dismay, the living room couch, where he planned to sleep, was damp, as was the carpet. He couldn’t bear another uncomfortable, muggy night in a dust-filled bedroom.
“Josselyn!” he growled, determined to give her a piece of his mind. There was no sign of the curvy brunette.
The upstairs was quiet. Just where was she? He made his way down the hallway to his bedroom. To his surprise, Josselyn had been busy upstairs as well. His room was thoroughly clean. Somehow she managed to get the window open, allowing the breeze to blow in. The bed was made up in blue linens, and a vase of wildflowers was on the dresser. His old bedroom actually looked livable.