Ross’s brow furrowed. “We should have taken your advice, Sophie. If I ever see that cop again, I’m gonna kick his ass into next week.” He looked up at Carly’s window.
Busted again. She drew back into the room and chewed on a fingernail. Tears sprang to her eyes for what seemed like the umpteenth time since she had arrived in New Mexico. What kind of shitty luck was she having, anyway? Embarrassed over and over in a little more than twenty-four hours, and insulted by two first-rate losers last night, too.
“Hey, sweetie. Good morning.” Ross’s voice drifted up to the window. “Are you coming down for the meeting?”
The meeting. Carly’s eyes widened and she looked around for her travel alarm. It was nowhere to be found, which meant it was probably still in a suitcase. She clapped a hand over her eyes and breathed in. Her luck absolutely had to change. Vowing to make the best of the day, she hurried back to the window. She pasted a merry smile on her face and poked her head out.
“Hey there, Mr. Director. Hope you slept well … I sure did. Be down to the theater in about fifteen minutes. I just have to unpack something to wear.”
Not waiting for a response, Carly slammed the window shut and ran for a suitcase. Upending it on the rumpled bed, she grabbed her bathrobe, underwear, a fresh T-shirt and a pair of shorts. She stripped off her nightshirt and threw on the bathrobe, holding the silky fabric closed around her nude body, the ties flapping behind her. Barely stopping to grab her shampoo, she scurried into the hallway and pulled open the bathroom door.
Asher stood in front of the mirror wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. His face covered with shaving cream, he stopped short with a razor in mid-air. Although he was whipcord thin, the muscles of his arm bunched as he raised the razor to his chiseled face. He observed her without interest for a split second and went right back to shaving.
Carly’s mouth dropped open and she took a step backward. A small sound escaped her lips and she hastily pulled the robe closer around her waist. He turned to her and moved forward, bracing himself against the doorway with a lazy smile.
“Hey, Carly.”
His voice was deeper and more melodic than she remembered. Glancing up at his amused expression, Carly frowned.
“I thought you didn’t know my name. And what are you doing in my bathroom?”
“This bathroom isn’t private property, I’m afraid,” he stated and gestured to a closed door across the hall.
Still frowning, Carly stepped around him and opened it. It was another bedroom, a mirror image of hers. Except in this one, a pair of old jeans was thrown over a rocker instead of a sundress. She closed it and turned back to him.
“You mean you are going to be living next door to me? I thought the hotel was reserved for the theater employees.”
Asher chuckled. “I guess being family rates somewhere.” He reached out and stuck a dab of shaving cream on her nose. “Don’t worry, Carly. I won’t be long.” He flashed another devilish smile and shut the bathroom door in her face. Carly knocked on it immediately.
“Could you get out of there for just five minutes, please? I have a meeting.” She tapped her foot and waited. Asher began to sing on the other side.
“Come on, buddy,” she said with a sigh, “It’s my first day of work. Give me a break.”
He turned the water on full blast and raised his voice. She thought she detected a chuckle breaking into the chorus of his song.
Oh, he thought he was really cute, didn’t he? Well, two could play that immature game. Banging on the door now, she kept it up until her knuckles were stinging. She gritted her teeth and leaned against it, pounding even harder.
Suddenly the door swung open and she lost her balance. Tripping forward, she screeched as she stumbled straight toward the enormous claw-footed tub. A strong pair of arms caught her just before her head came into contact with porcelain.
“Whoa!” Asher pulled her upright and grinned. He was clean-shaven, but still wore nothing but a towel. “You should pay me, you know. It’s a full-time job keeping you out of trouble.”
They were locked in an intimate embrace, squeezed between the tub and the wall in the tiny room. Carly tried to ease out of his gentle grasp, but only succeeded in nestling her head against his shoulder. She was uncomfortably aware of her heartbeat pounding into his body. And the firm warmth of his chest against her skin.
Flustered, she pulled as far away from him as possible and looked down. Her bathrobe was completely open. And her breasts were smashed into his abdomen. Oh, Lord, had he noticed? Of course he noticed. What kind of idiot are you?
Panicking, she glanced back up, a flush spreading across her already sunburned cheeks. Smiling, he hauled her out of the corner, still keeping her close in his arms.
“Yeah, I know,” he whispered, “And don’t worry. As much as I would like to, I’m not about to touch you after what happened last night with Wheeler.”
Carly winced at the sound of the name, and the mood was broken. Jerking her bathrobe around herself and stepping to the door, she gestured toward the hallway.
“Thanks for your help. Again. Could you please leave? I’m really very late.”
Scowling now, Asher stopped in the doorway, his eyes locked with hers. He brushed his hand across her cheek and then gently wiped the shaving cream from her nose. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth. She flinched and braced herself for his retort, but he said nothing.
Dipping his head, he came closer. Carly shivered and closed her eyes as she felt the warmth of his lips near her mouth. Did her really mean to kiss her? While they were both half-dressed and standing in a hallway? Her eyes snapped open and met with his.
At the last second, her turned and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek. His face lingered near hers for a few seconds, his eyes on her lips. Then he straightened and strolled into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Carly shut her eyes and stood completely still, but all she could see was the image of Asher’s lips. Reaching up to her face, she pressed a palm on her burning cheek. This craziness had to stop. She was here to do a job, and for once, a job she really and truly cared about. Nothing was going to get in the way. Not this summer. She had sworn it to herself.
• • •
A few days later, after a round of get-to-know-you meetings, Carly sat on the front porch of the hotel with Ross, blueprints spread on the weathered boards beneath them. The afternoon sunlight winked over the mountaintops, warming her face. She smiled and settled back against a wall, relieved that her life was going so much more … well … smoothly this week. Rehearsals had started, and her paperwork on the restoration was well underway.
“So you think the ceiling of the theater can be repainted in enough time?” Ross asked, sipping yet another cup of coffee. “I mean, I’m kind of worried about that. The show has to come first, and I have to have an authentic oleo curtain. Daniel told me there’s big money tied up in local sponsors who have paid to advertise on it. Don’t you have to go visit them and get the logos and — ”
Carly held up her hand as she doodled on a sketchpad. Placating Ross was second nature.
“It’ll be tight, hon, but Daniel really wants this, and I agree with him. We need the audience to be drawn into the magic, and not just the show. No offense.” She looked up, wincing, to gauge his response.
Ross waggled his eyebrows. “You know you can’t offend me, partner. If I wanted someone to lie to me, I’d hire a hooker.” He grinned when she gasped.
“For a woman who’s almost out to pasture, you sure haven’t been around the block much.”
Carly shoved his shoulder. “Most men would consider that an attractive quality in a girl!” she retorted, smiling in spite of herself.
Gazing up at the brilliantly blue sky, she sighed. Things had settled down somewhat after her crazy first day
at Ruby Spring. Nancy, the costume designer, was not a psycho, as Daniel and Ross had feared. Just a little bit high-strung, which could be interpreted as normal, as far as theater designers under tight deadlines were concerned. Carly doubted that she would have reacted any differently if a wound-up actress had raked fingernails across her face, either.
The rest of the remaining actors seemed to be decent people, if not predictably flaky. Daniel had been nervous when he gave his opening speech, but his excitement for the play and the restoration soon overcame his shaky voice, and he had managed to suck all of them into his enthusiasm for this unique project.
Carly’s greatest challenge now was to not only design and supervise the build of the set for the show, but also to somehow manage to restore the inside of the grand, but decrepit old theater. Fortunately, the work was almost all cosmetic. The largest project was the repainting of the mural on the ceiling, and Carly knew that she had to talk to Asher about that. Daniel wanted him to help her. Butterflies swirled in her stomach as she thought again of the memory of his lips so close to her own. She’d talk to him sometime soon. Like maybe tomorrow.
Frowning, she glanced down at the rough sketch for the oleo curtain. Where had Asher been, anyway? She hadn’t seen him since that morning when … well, that morning when they had bumped into each other in the bathroom. Not that she had been looking for him.
Late in the evenings, when she had been snuggled in bed, she had heard the door to his bedroom open and then click shut. In the mornings, the infamous bathroom had been unoccupied. After a few days, though, she hadn’t even heard the sound of his bedroom door. Where had he gone? Although she shouldn’t have cared, it made her peevish.
Just that morning, as she went down to the kitchen, she had heard voices inside and stopped, her hand on the swinging door. Although she hated it when people spied on her, just this once Carly couldn’t resist doing the same. She had stayed there, motionless, and listened to the conversation.
“So why did he disappear this time?” Sophie murmured.
“Same old, same old,” Daniel sighed, “He said he had some thinking to do, and he’d be back in ten days.”
“Well, he’d better be back in time to help Carly with that ceiling. He promised you, Daniel.”
A chair scraped on the floor and Carly jumped back. She heard the sound of the refrigerator door open and then the sound of someone sitting down. She relaxed again and cocked her ear to the door, straining to hear Sophie’s voice.
“ … I know that horrible woman hurt him. And I can’t blame him for running away from New York after she skipped town with most of the paintings for his gallery opening. But all the same, Asher’s thirty-five years old. If he’s going to come back here and stay in Ruby Spring, he really needs to help us out, Daniel. He owns half, just the same as you.”
Daniel sighed. “I know, Soph, but Asher is … well … he’s different. He doesn’t take love that lightly. And he is an artist. Just give him a few days. I am. Part of the reason I asked him to help with the ceiling is to get his mind off of it.”
“Well, I guess. But Daniel Day, you have to get used to dealing with artists. If you handle them with kid gloves constantly, they’ll walk all over you,” she stated in a gentle tone.
Daniel cleared his throat. “I think I’m handling the artists here just fine, thank you very much. This is the first time I’ve ever produced a show, for God’s sake. Give me a break Sophie!”
“I didn’t say you were doing a bad job, dearest. Quite the opposite. Don’t forget that I am always … and forever, absolutely proud of you.”
Carly heard Daniel’s chuckle and the unmistakable sound of a loud kiss. Sophie giggled and Carly back away from the door and tiptoed quietly across the lobby.
So, that was Asher’s problem. His girlfriend screwed him over. Her brow puckered and she ran her hand over the carving on the front desk. But why did she feel sorry for him? All he had ever done was insult her. And save her from danger. In a completely dashing manner. Twice. She sighed and tried to force her over-organized mind not to count the calendar days until he would be back.
She still felt guilty for having listened in on what had to have been a completely private conversation between Daniel and Sophie. Debating about whether to confide in Ross, Carly drew circles on her sketchpad. But confide what? That she might possibly have the hots for the producer’s brother?
Someone shouted in the distance, pulling her back to reality. Carly brushed her hair out of her eyes and looked up.
Nancy was tottering down the dusty street on her platform sandals at a fast clip, her cell phone grasped in a pudgy hand. Her eyes were wide and she was panting. “Hey, Ross. You gotta come quick. Something bad,” she wheezed as she hauled herself onto the porch.
Carly and Ross jumped up at the same time. “Nancy, what’s wrong, sweetie?” Ross grabbed her by the shoulders. She gulped and pressed her cell phone into his hand. “Use … yours,” she gasped, “I … can’t get a … signal.” Flopping down on a rocking chair, she took a couple of deep breaths.
“Use mine for what?” Ross asked.
“To call an ambulance, of course!” Nancy cried. “Daniel just fell off a ladder. I think he broke his leg.”
Barely stopping to grab his phone from the porch railing, Ross jumped over it and onto the street. He was halfway to the theater before Carly could open the hotel door. “Nancy, go inside and get Sophie,” Carly demanded, “I have to get down there and help them.”
She didn’t wait for Nancy to mobilize. Yanking the woman up from the chair, Carly turned and ran to the theater with her heart in her throat. She slipped through the front doors. The stage was empty. “Ross … Daniel,” she called, sprinting down a side aisle and onto the stage. “Daniel! Where are you guys?”
A faint moan came from beneath the stage. Hastily, Carly darted stage right and clattered down the narrow metal spiral staircase to the dressing rooms. Daniel, his face pinched and white, was lying on the floor, his left leg at a sickening angle. Ross was crouched next to him, gripping his hand, speaking into his cell phone.
Carly’s eyes flew to the tall ladder at the end of the room. The top three rungs were cracked clean in two, hanging at haphazard angles. Her mouth dropped open and she squatted next to the two men. “Isn’t that the ladder you bought for me yesterday?”
“Yeah,” Daniel managed through gritted teeth, “Guess I’m getting my money back, huh?”
Carly murmured in sympathy and stroked his forehead. “Just try to lay still. I’m sure an ambulance will be here soon.”
Ross snapped his phone shut and stood up. “They said fifteen minutes. Can you hang on for fifteen minutes, buddy?” Daniel nodded and released Ross’s hand. “What were you doing up there anyway?” Ross asked.
Daniel laughed weakly and closed his eyes. “Sophie’s gonna kill me. I was just making a little joke. Just going to post something funny, just for grins.” He gestured to a makeup table with lights. “See that head shot?”
Ross picked it up and frowned. It was an eight by ten picture of the beautiful red-head who had walked out before rehearsals even started. “What the hell, Danny?” Ross demanded, “I thought you would have torn this up and used it as kindling by now.”
“I was going to put it up on that old bulletin board we don’t use anymore … with ‘employee of the week’ underneath,” Daniel muttered.
Ross shook his head and snorted. “That’s a good one. Almost worth a broken leg, but somehow … I don’t think so.” Glancing over at the ladder, he shook his head again. “Why is the bulletin board so high on the wall, anyway?”
Daniel waved his hand noncommittally. “I don’t know. To make more room for makeup mirrors, I guess. God, Ross, what is this, the third degree? I’m kind of occupied right now.”
Carly glared at Ross and moved her lips. “Shut up!” Ross
gestured toward the ladder, his eyes wide. “This was no accident,” he mouthed. Carly narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What?”
Before he could explain, voices overhead interrupted. A radio squawked and Carly sighed in relief. “Hey, down here!” she shouted.
A pair of boots and tan uniformed legs descended the spiral stairs. They were followed by an impressively buff body, and then, to Carly’s horror, Wheeler’s face. “Well, well, well.” He smirked and folded his arms.
Carly scrambled up and ran to stand beside Ross. Daniel raised his head from the floor and frowned at Wheeler. “Did you bring an ambulance with you, Barstow?” he whispered gruffly.
Wheeler jerked a thumb upward. “They’re comin’.” Immediately, he turned to Carly. He smiled, running his tongue across his perfect teeth. “What’s up, good lookin’?”
Uh-oh. Ross was her best friend and she knew him almost as well as she knew herself. He was about to pick a fight. With a cop. She grabbed his hand in an iron grip, but it was no use. He snarled at Wheeler and tugged himself free.
“Why don’t you just do your job, you ass … ”
Carly clapped her hand over his mouth. “Wheeler, could you wait upstairs, please? This room is pretty small, and they have to get a stretcher down here, don’t they?” Wheeler gave her a fierce stare and remained where he was.
“I think I need to stay down here and survey the situation, but thanks for the suggestion, cutie,” he scoffed, plunking down on a bench. He folded his arms, slumping, and glared at Ross.
Ross glared back and stomped over to the broken ladder. “As long as you insist on staying down here, again, I’ll ask you to do your job.” Placing a hand on the ladder, he crooked his index finger. “Come here. If you have any investigative skills, now is the time to put them to use, Officer. This ladder has been sabotaged.”
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