Who's Been Sleeping in My Bed?
Page 7
“He did do it for the money. Dad does everything for the money.”
“That shows how little you know him.”
This argument was getting him nowhere. “I’m doing the best I can. We’ll start demolition after the first of the year. Harlee is preparing the initial paperwork for the permits.”
“You trust her with that?”
“She’s very good, I told you. She’s worked in construction operations larger than this one.”
“Don’t let us down. Think with that head on your shoulders, not the one between your legs.”
Jake ignored the slight. “I have no intention of letting anyone down.”
Except Harlee. He frowned at that thought. Harlee should be the furthest thing from his mind.
“We’ve invested a huge amount of capital in this project.”
“I know.”
“Do you really? I don’t think you have a clue. If the Rosehill development falls through, ReynCorp may never recover.”
“Since when?”
“You don’t read the financial section of the papers, do you?”
“Not usually.”
“Maybe you should start. This resort is crucial to the health of the company.”
“I have everything under control.” Jake didn’t believe it. Reynolds Corporation was untouchable, a Seattle institution. No way could it be in financial trouble. Carson was just trying to scare him.
“Including Bridget?” Carson crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.
“I’ll handle her.” No one had ever handled Bridget, and they all knew it. Carson chose not to point out that fact.
“If there are any problems, don’t go to Dad. He’s given me complete control of the business during his recovery. I’m not burdening him with this.”
“Don’t worry. If I have problems, I’ll come straight to you.” In a pig’s eye, Jake thought.
“Keep that blonde out of his sight. She’s enough to give him another heart attack.”
“He never comes to the islands, so that should be easy.” Jake bit back a smart retort. He didn’t like Carson criticizing Harlee based on her appearance, but if he defended her, Carson would be all over it, reading too much into it, and hitting too close to home.
“Our priority is to shield Dad. He’s not to be put under any undue stress in his condition.”
“I’ll handle it.”
Carson didn’t look convinced. “If you don’t, I will.”
Chapter 5—Rosehill Reunion
After one month on the job, Harlee had settled into a comfortable work routine. She answered phones, paid bills, cajoled and/or harassed subcontractors, and drooled over Jake—the one thing that wasn’t comfortable or routine. In fact, the Jake-drooling thing had become a bit of a decadent obsession, like eating Ghirardelli chocolates or drinking triple-shot grande mochas.
Harlee was manhandling an obstinate pile of paperwork when the office door opened and a blast from Harlee’s past entered. Sometimes life had this eerie way of connecting all the dots that could either scare the crap out of a person or make them a believer in a higher being. Today was one of those days.
Mariah Baker looked the same, yet different. She could still double for a model in a Nordstrom’s ad, but gone was the shy, self-conscious teenager that Harlee had once considered her closest friend. This new Mariah studied her with the confidence of a woman who knew what she wanted and how to make it happen.
“Harlee?” Mariah’s shocked expression said loud and clear that she hadn’t expected to see Harlee sitting in Jake’s job shack.
“Mariah?” Harlee put down the pen in her hand and pushed her chair back. She stood but didn’t move forward. The two women assessed each other.
Underneath they’d always been alike. On the outside, very different. Mariah was the well-bred, well-groomed French poodle raised in privilege by a loving family. Harlee was the ill-mannered mongrel, forgotten by her barfly mother and left to fend for herself. Yet, they’d shared of love of horses, an inborn sense of decency, and Rose.
Guilt stabbed Harlee. Mariah knew what she’d done, how she’d deserted Rose and broken her heart, all for a man who didn’t deserve it. Her former boss—the jackass.
Afraid of the condemnation she’d see there, Harlee forced herself to meet her friend’s gaze. One look and she knew. All was forgiven. Underneath the surface perfection, Mariah was still Mariah, sweet, kind Mariah. The differences had never mattered in the past. They didn’t matter now.
Harlee’s face broke into a big smile. Mariah laughed, then covered the space between them in a split second. She threw her arms around Harlee. They clung to each other, and the tears flowed freely. Words didn’t need to be spoken. They cried for what they’d lost, for Rose, for the farm, and for finding each other again. They were bound together by one strong woman who had had a profound effect on their lives.
Finally, Mariah drew back and regarded Harlee with warm green eyes. “Oh, Harlee, I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” Harlee swallowed a large lump in her throat.
“Where have you been? I’ve been searching everywhere for you?”
“Around. How did you find me?”
“I didn’t find you. I came to see Jake.”
“Well, here I am. Back at the scene of the crime.”
“I had a feeling you’d come back here someday.” Mariah glanced around the office. “You can’t be working for Jake Reynolds.”
“Oddly enough, I am.” Harlee shrugged and stared at her feet. “What about you? What have you been—” A blinding flash caught Harlee’s eye. “What is that?”
“I’m married.” Mariah held up her hand to display a rock the size of a disco ball on her finger.
“You’re married?”
“You didn’t know? The wedding last year was on the cover of all the gossip magazines.”
“I was in Europe grooming Olympic horses. I didn’t have time to pay attention to anything that didn’t eat hay in one end and poop out the other. Who the hell did you marry that your wedding would be in gossip magazines?”
Mariah looked over Harlee’s shoulder. “Him.”
Harlee whipped around to regard the mystery groom. She’d been so busy focusing on Mariah she hadn’t noticed him.
The giver of the disco ball ring wasn’t ruggedly handsome like Jake. Instead, he looked like every woman’s Spanish bullfighter fantasy. She’d seen him before. Somewhere. But it’d been a while, and she didn’t think she’d ever actually met him.
“He’s in scruffy mode right now, so you might not recognize him.” Mariah stepped forward to wrap her arm around her husband’s waist and pulled him into their little circle.
Scruffy or not, a Rip Van Winkle beard couldn’t disguise those good looks or bedroom eyes.
“I’m also retired so I do not need to concern myself with my appearance.” His rich, deep voice with the hint of an accent oozed Latin lover.
“Harlee, this is my husband, Rico Sanchez.” Mariah gazed up at him with undisguised admiration. “Rico, I’ve told you all about Harlee. This is such a pleasant surprise. I had no idea she was here.”
Harlee’s mouth dropped open wide enough to swallow a herd of Spanish bulls. “R…R…Rico Sanchez?”
“Sí. You have heard of me?”
“A woman would have to be in her grave to not have heard of you.” Rico Sanchez had topped the charts consistently until a few years ago, then he’d just disappeared from the pop music scene. One day he’d been sitting at number one, and the next day, he wasn’t even number one hundred. While her tastes ran more to country music, even she’d succumbed to his charm and purchased a CD or two.
His smile could have warmed an Alaska winter. “Welcome to our family, mi hermana.” He pulled the two of them in a hug, and Harlee was sucked right in by his charisma and sincerity. The man knew how to work a crowd.
“My sister?” she translated, her eyes filling with tears.
“Sí. That is
how Mariah thinks of you.”
“Gracias.” She choked and mustered every bit of strength she had not to blubber like a damn fool. She’d never had a brother. “You’re not singing anymore?”
“No. I leave that to my little brother. I write the songs, and he sings them. It is much better this way. It keeps me home.” He looked at Mariah, love gentling his expression. The heat between them should have ignited the room.
Mariah smiled up at him and squeezed his arm. Something private passed between them. Normally, such a syrupy display of affection would have gagged Harlee, but it was just too damn heart-warming and genuine.
Rico glanced at his watch. “It is almost five. Is Jake in his office?”
“Yes, I can’t believe he hasn’t heard us.” She glanced at the phone. The line for Jake’s office was lit up. “I guess he’s on the phone.”
Rico set his jaw and narrowed his dark eyes. “I am going to talk to him about Rosehill.”
“I…I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Harlee was pretty sure it was a very bad idea.
“It couldn’t hurt.”
It could hurt. Her. Jake would be pissed if she let Rico into his office without warning.
“I don’t know.”
“Nonsense. We flew this far to talk with him. We are not stopping now.” Testosterone-induced confidence overflowed from the man, an affliction from which many men suffered in Harlee’s experience. He wasn’t going to be deterred.
“Harlee, you know what he has planned, don’t you?” Mariah spoke up.
“Yes, I know.”
“You have to help us. Rico is very convincing given the chance, but Jake has been ignoring his phone calls. We decided that a sneak attack would be the best strategy.”
Harlee sighed. She was going to be in deep shit, but that never stopped her. The more pressure put on Jake to reconsider his plans, the better. She’d suffer his wrath for the cause. Besides, his bark stung worse than his bite. Not that she wouldn’t mind that man biting her in a few choice places. Little love nips on her neck, maybe on her—
“Harlee, are you okay?” Mariah studied her with concern.
Harlee jerked her overactive imagination back to solid ground. “He’s off the phone. Go on in.” She’d deal with Jake later. He wouldn’t dare fire her. She’d made herself indispensable in the last few weeks.
“Rico.” Mariah put a hand on his arm. “Don’t lose your temper.”
“Trust me, mi amor.” Rico grinned in response, tossed Mariah a kiss, and swaggered into Jake’s inner sanctuary. What was that saying? Fools tread where angels— Oh, never mind. Rico wasn’t a fool. Confident, yes. Fool, no.
Mariah waited until the door closed. Her eyes clouded with worry, she dropped into an orange plastic chair. Harlee took the one next to her. Mariah sighed, and Harlee frowned.
“Do you think they’ll be okay in there?” Harlee strained to hear voices.
“No, I’m just hoping they both come out alive.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Let’s not talk about it. We’ll know soon enough. I’m just so happy I found you.”
“I am, too. I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch.”
“No apologies. I just wished I could have found you myself to tell you about Rose.” Mariah’s face fell.
“It’s my fault. How could you have found me?” Even now, Harlee’s eyes filled with unshed tears.
“Who told you?”
“I went to Rose’s house thinking she still lived there. Instead, Jake lives there. He told me.” Harlee chewed on her lower lip and drowned in guilt. “I had no idea she’d been ill.” Harlee looked away and swiped a hand across her face.
“Even if we could have found you, she didn’t want you to know she had cancer. She feared you’d leave Europe and your dream to be by her side.” Mariah’s green eyes reflected compassion for Harlee and the pain of her own loss.
“Well, my dream turned into a nightmare. I was fired from my job. I’ll never work in horses again.”
“What happened?”
“I screwed around with my boss.” Harlee pushed her hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind one ear. “When I ended it, he took revenge, accused me of stealing money and drugging horses, horses he was drugging. By the time he was done, I was considered bad news. I couldn’t get a job.”
“So you came back here?”
Harlee nodded and sniffled.
“I saved Aunt Rose’s ashes. She wanted them spread in Deer Cove. I couldn’t do it without you there, and I didn’t know where to find you.”
Remorse and regret suffocated Harlee. She fought for control as her past transgressions weighed her down. What a selfish bitch she’d been.
The two sat in silence for several minutes. They could hear the muffled voices in the inner office.
“At least they’re not yelling,” Harlee noted.
“I suppose that’s a good sign.”
Clearing her throat, the words spilled out before Harlee could stop them. “I can’t believe you lost the farm.”
Mariah’s stricken look broke her heart and a fresh round of guilt sliced through her. “I can’t either.”
Harlee reached over and patted her arm. “Don’t blame yourself. I’m sure you did what you could.”
“Have you met Warren?”
Harlee shook her head. “I haven’t had the pleasure, but Jake doesn’t have much good to say about him.”
“That’s a plus. I was wondering where Jake stood in all this.”
“Jake says Warren is out of the country indefinitely.”
Mariah smiled a knowing smile. “So he’s in trouble again.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“He can’t stop gambling. I’ve heard rumors of drugs, too.”
“Sounds like one of my mother’s boyfriends. What about you? What’s the story with you and Warren?”
Mariah stared out the window. Pain crossed her features and settled in her eyes. “I was stupid and naive. I thought I loved Warren. I had no idea what love was. He was smooth talking, well dressed, and treated me like a princess. I was on cloud nine, totally wrapped up in my bliss. Then Aunt Rose was diagnosed with cancer. She approached Warren for money to pay the bills, which he loaned her with the farm as equity. I didn’t know any of this. The cancer took her pretty fast, and she died within six months. Warren and I broke up for several reasons, and I moved here. Months later, he showed up on my doorstep demanding a huge balloon payment, or he’d foreclose.”
“You didn’t have the money?”
“No. I tried to get a loan, but it fell through. I couldn’t stop him.” Mariah sniffled, took a tissue from her bulging purse, and wiped her nose.
“It’s okay.” Harlee squeezed her shoulder.
Mariah sniffled, pulled a compact from her purse, and refreshed her makeup.
“I don’t think Warren has much to do with this place anymore,” Harlee admitted.
“You don’t?”
“No, I understand that he sold a huge portion to Jake’s father.”
“This isn’t good news.”
“Why?”
“When it was just Jake and Warren, capital would be an issue. I was hoping Jake might be persuaded to part with a portion of the land if the price was right.”
“And now?”
“I’ve known Joe Reynolds for years. He’s an exceptional businessman, very ruthless, clever, and ambitious. If he’s involved in this, we’re doomed. He won’t budge an inch, and Jake won’t dare cross him.” Mariah’s face fell. She took a deep breath. Her shoulders rose and fell.
“I haven’t met him, but I’ve met the brothers and sister.”
“That’s an interesting family. The brothers are physical copies of each other, but it ends there. Carson is his father’s son. Brad’s the playboy. Jake was the partier, the wild one, completely uncontrollable in his younger days. They were always bailing him out of some kind of trouble. And Bridget, well, she’s a princess.”
/> “She’s a spoiled, self-absorbed bitch.”
Mariah grinned. “I can count on you to tell it like it is.”
“Tact was never my strong suit.”
“Harlee, tact isn’t even in your vocabulary.”
Harlee laughed. “I guess I’m pretty transparent. So, what about their mom? I don’t hear much about her.”
“She’s a socialite and dedicated to charity work. There’s big-time money and power behind that family. Their great-grandfather came to the Northwest in the late eighteen hundreds and made his fortune as a timber baron. At one time, they owned half of downtown Seattle. In fact, he was mayor.”
“Shoot. I didn’t realize they were that Reynolds family.”
“Well, they are.”
“We’re in deep, deep shit.”
“We’re in more than that.”
“Jake doesn’t act like a rich boy. I had no idea he’d been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth.”
“Don’t let all that money fool you, Harlee. The parents put their kids at the bottom of their priority list. I always felt sorry for them.”
“I still can’t believe Jake is from the Reynolds family. It’s so weird.”
“He is, so don’t underestimate him. He may not portray that image, but he knows how to wield power and wealth. He learned from the master.”
Harlee’s heart sank as fast a rock thrown in a lake. Mariah was right. The farm was doomed, and so was she. Her foolish fantasies about Jake curdled inside her, leaving her with a sour milk taste in her mouth. The Reynolds family defined old money in Seattle like Starbucks defined coffee.
“It’s looking pretty bleak, isn’t it?” Harlee said.
“Yes, it is. I wonder why they’re so quiet in there.”
Harlee pictured two alpha males staring each other down like stray dogs ready to rumble.
Mariah reached in her large Coach purse and pulled out a small jewelry box. “This is for you. Rose wanted you to have this.”
“You’ve been carrying this with you all this time?”
“Not exactly. I shoved it in my purse for this trip. Call it intuition.”
With an unsteady hand, Harlee accepted the small wooden box. She traced the carved rose on its surface and ran her fingers over the smooth Madrona wood. “Oh, Mariah. She remembered how much I loved this.” Harlee swallowed a hard lump in her throat and rubbed her teary eyes on her sleeve.