Reilly sighed. “At the moment, I have no idea.”
Thanks to three-inch heels on candy-apple red boots, Lily almost matched Cassandra’s height as she wrapped her arms around her in a tight embrace. After holding open the door to allow Cassandra to enter first, Reilly watched the two women hug.
“Lily, I’m okay,” Cassandra said.
“Are you sure?”
Lily spoke to Cassandra, but she was looking at him. He could read the uncertainty in her eyes. He hoped his forced smile was reassuring.
“Except for the fact I can’t breathe at the moment,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Lily released her boss and stepped back a few feet. “I was so worried when Reilly called—”
“I’m fine.” Cassandra removed her leather jacket and moved past her friend. “And I’d rather not talk about last night. What’s been happening around here this morning?”
Lily’s gaze darted between him and Cassandra before she answered. “Well, considering October is still one day away, we’re ending this month with a bang. It’s been pretty busy so far and Mrs. Applewhite arrived a few minutes ago. I put her in your office with coffee and those delicious pastries I picked up at the bakery this morning.”
“Cathleen’s here?” Cassandra checked her watch. “She’s early. Her appointment isn’t scheduled for another fifteen minutes.”
“She said she’s got a few new ideas for the renovations of her penthouse. We both know how many of those she’s had over the last few months.” Lily rolled her eyes and pulled out a thick file from the desk. “Here’s her history. I laid out the rest of your plans on the desk.”
“Thanks,” Cassandra replied, glancing at her closed office door while juggling the folder with the jeweler’s box. “I’m just going to put this back in the safe.”
“I can take care—”
“That’s all right, I got it.” Cassandra pulled the box and folder close to her chest. She brushed past her assistant and headed for the safe. “Then I’ll deal with Cathleen and her inevitable modifications.”
Lily shrugged and dropped her hand. “Hey, today Park Avenue, tomorrow her twenty-room beach cottage in Newport.”
“Hmmm, that would be nice,” Cassandra’s voice carried from the back, “but first things first.”
Beach cottage? The idea sprang into Reilly’s head fully formed.
It was a perfect way to get Cassandra out of the city, for a few days at least. With the summer season over, the crowds would be gone and the locals did very well at minding their own business. Of course, it meant asking a favor of a person he hadn’t spoken with in a long time. Someone he didn’t want to be indebted to. But his promise to keep Cassandra safe was far stronger than a promise to his past.
“Is she limping?”
Reilly turned to look at Lily. Cassandra returned from the back area and headed into her office, shaking hands with the woman inside before closing the door. “Yeah, she is.”
Lily let out a puff of air that sent her bangs flying. “How hurt is she?”
“It’s only a sprain, but if she doesn’t stay off it, it’s going to hurt a lot longer. I tried to get her to stay home—”
“And you see where that got you?” Lily said with a smile. Soft chiming filled the air, signaling someone had entered the store. Lily dropped her voice to a whisper and continued, “You know, nothing short of a hurricane can keep Cass away from here.”
A hurricane or Ranndolph Carrington, II. At times they can be one and the same.
Grabbing his cell phone from his pocket, Reilly moved to the far corner of the store. He punched in the three-digit code for his half brother’s office, having no doubt Rann would be at work, even on a Saturday. He listened to the phone ring, watching first Cassandra’s half-closed door, then Lily and the elderly couple she was assisting.
“RannCarr Oil, Mr. Carrington’s office.”
“Hey Ginger, put me through to Rann.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but Mrs. Hart is on a leave of absence from the company. This is her replacement. Mr. Carrington is behind closed doors this morning. May I ask who’s calling please?”
“Ah, just tell him it’s Reilly.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Reilly, but Mr. Carrington can’t be distur—”
“Disturb him. Tell him Reilly’s on the phone and I want to talk to him. Now.”
Classical music filled the earpiece. He’d been put on hold.
Ginger Hart was gone? What the hell did that mean? The squat grandmotherly type woman, who’d been Rann’s secretary since his first day at RannCarr Oil, never missed a day of work. Seconds later, Reilly heard the clicking noises putting his call through to the inner sanctum of the CEO to one of the nation’s largest oil companies.
“Well, if this isn’t a surprise. To what do I owe the honor?”
Rann’s voice rang in his ear. The mocking tone and inflated southern drawl did their best to hide the slurring words. Reilly sighed. It nearly succeeded, but it was too much like listening to his own voice. He recognized the alcohol-induced pitch right away. “What happened to Ginger?”
“How did you hear about that?”
“About what? I call your office expecting to get Ginger. I end up with a prissy woman telling me she’s gone and you aren’t to be disturbed.”
“So Vicky doesn’t have your cell phone number memorized,” Rann shot back. “This is the first time you’ve called in over a year and you’re asking where my secretary is?”
Reilly ignored the question. “What did you mean by ‘about that’? What happened?”
The sound of ice clanking against glass reverberated in the background before his brother answered. “I sent Ginger and her husband off on my boat for the weekend last month to celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary. There was an explosion. He didn’t make it and she…Ginger’s been in a coma ever since.”
Shock rocketed through Reilly. “An explosion?”
“The cops think it was meant for me. Yes, they’re working on it and no, I have no idea who was behind it,” Rann said. “The list of people who wouldn’t mind seeing me outfitted with wings and a halo is quite long. Or should that be a pitchfork and horns? Anyway, you called for a reason?”
More rattled than he wanted to admit, Reilly immediately started to speculate the details. His half brother was trying to play off what he’d told him as trivial, but he heard pain and exhaustion laced in Rann’s voice despite his attitude. “What are you drinking?”
“Ice water. I hear it’s good for re-hydrating the body after consuming large amounts of alcohol.”
Reilly grimaced. “It is when you take it after you’ve stopped drinking and before going to bed.”
“I did just stop drinking and I’ve got no time for sleep, or to chat with you,” Rann replied. “So, if this is just a social call you got more than you bargained for. The last thing I need is a lecture from you, big brother, so—”
“Rann, I need a favor,” Reilly interrupted before his brother disconnected the call.
“You need a what?”
Okay, here goes. “Do you still have the old beach house on Nantucket Island?”
“Don’t you mean do you still have the old house? Mother left it to you in her will, not me. All I got was the oil business.”
“I told you the day of the funeral I didn’t want—”
“The house on Nantucket, the log cabin and the thousand acres of prime Texas real estate it sits on, all of Mom’s stock holdings and her personal effects went to you, dear brother.” Rann cut him off. “Nothing changed because you walked away.”
Stunned, Reilly couldn’t utter a word. His mind raced with what his half brother had just told him. Before he’d stormed out of the lawyer’s office five years ago, he’d made his feelings quite clear. He wanted nothing from the Carringtons, from his mother. The fact Rann had done zilch on the legal end to fix things amazed him.
“You never told me this before.”
�
��Yeah, like we’ve had wide-ranging and thought-provoking conversations over the years. Usually one of us is three sheets to the wind whenever we bother to dial the phone.”
What his half brother said was true. “The will also stated if I refused any of those things they’d be turned over to you and the RannCarr Trust.” Reilly finally spoke, surprised at the husky tone of his voice.
“Yeah well, it’s a jumble of paperwork and I haven’t had the time to do it,” Rann said. “So, you’re still one of the richest men in Texas, whether you like it or not. Are we done?”
One of the richest men in Texas? Him?
He’d always lived off his military pay, which was more than enough. Now his retirement, supplemented by his disability pay, was deposited in his bank account every month and with the side work he did, money was never an issue.
“No, we aren’t done.” Reilly couldn’t deal with what his half brother told him right now. He pushed it to the back of his mind for processing later. “I need your help.”
“My help? Wait, did hell freeze over and no one told me?”
“Shut up and listen.”
It was another ten minutes of hushed conversation before Reilly allowed Rann to get a word in. “And you’re doing this to protect this woman?”
“Yes.”
“Must be a pretty special lady.”
Despite his comparison to Wendy last night, Reilly knew that yes, Cassandra was a very special lady. She had an inner strength and determination his former girlfriend had never exhibited. “Yes.”
“You’re gonna owe me for this.”
Reilly paused for a long moment. “Yeah, I know.”
Pushing a button, he ended the call. With any luck, he’d be calling back in less than thirty minutes.
The door to Cassandra’s office opened. She walked her customer out into the main store. Reilly could see she was still favoring her hurt foot. She and Lily said goodbye to their customers and made their way back toward him. Eyeing her jerky movements, he opened his mouth.
“Don’t say it, Murdock, or I swear I’ll kick you, sprained ankle or not.” Cassandra said.
“Me?” Reilly feigned innocent. “What would I say?”
“How about a cup of tea, Cass,” Lily offered. She walked toward the desk where an ornate silver tea service sat. “I bet I could scare up a couple of aspirin, too.”
“Tea sounds wonderful. I’ll be at my desk—”
The ringing of the phone cut her off. Lily waved her on to her office, reached for the teapot with one hand and the phone with the other. “Van Winter Treasures…yes, Miss Van Winter is here. May I tell her who’s calling?” The teapot rattled when Lily set it down. “Ah, yes, just one moment, sir.”
Tucking the phone against her chest, Lily called out in a hushed whisper, “It’s Ranndolph Carrington.”
Reilly glanced at his watch. Ten minutes. He hoped his half brother had downed plenty of ice water.
“Who?” Cassandra said, leaning back in her chair.
“Ranndolph Carrington, President of RannCarr Oil. Remember, I showed you his picture in that Lifestyles magazine last year?” Lily turned to Reilly. “He was chosen as one of the most eligible bachelors in America. Tall, dark hair and eyes, and tanned muscles to die for. In his picture he was dressed in nothing but a pair of raggedy jeans, on horseback no less…oh man, he is so good looking.”
“You don’t say.” Reilly’s reply was dry.
“Oh yeah, I could just dip him in chocolate and lick—”
“Lily, I’ll take the call in here,” Cassandra called out.
Lily gave Reilly a quick wink. “Okay, putting Mr. Gorgeous through.”
After returning the handset to the receiver, Lily moved to the door, openly eavesdropping on the phone call. Reilly did the same while he pretended to be interested in the magazine laid out in front of him.
“Yes, Mr. Carrington, how may I help you?” Cassandra began taking notes. “Well, it sounds very interesting. Might I ask how you heard of Van Winter Treasures?” Her lips pursed. “Yes, the Senator and his wife were very pleased with my work. I think I could schedule a visit sometime after the Christmas holidays—right away? Oh, I don’t think I could—”
“Yes, you can!” Lily whispered. “Whatever the man wants, give it to him.”
“Will you excuse me for a moment, Mr. Carrington? I need to check my schedule…thank you.” Cassandra pressed a button and dropped the phone to her lap.
“Well?” Lily said. “What does he want?”
“A total redecoration of a cottage on Nantucket Island and he wants it done now.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I can’t go gallivanting to an island off the coast of Massachusetts. What about the Applewhites and the store?”
“Come on, you can’t take a pass on this,” Lily pleaded. “I’ll take care of the store. You can put off Cathleen for a couple of months. Tell her you’ll want to demolish a few walls. She’ll freak out and insist you wait until after the holidays.”
“But I can’t do the job in less than a week. What about the auction? I have to be here to attend that.”
Damn, the auction. Reilly had forgotten about that.
“So, go for a few days, do some sketching, planning…whatever creative stuff you do. Run up a big bill, he can afford it.”
“Lily—”
“You know what I mean. Think about the revenue and free advertising you’d get from this job. I mean, this is the President of RannCarr Oil.”
Cassandra drew in a deep breath before letting it out again. She released the call and placed the phone to her ear. “Mr. Carrington, I do have some time available, but a job like this is going to take longer than a few weeks, depending on the redecorating and the budget…yes, well ‘no limit’ makes things a lot easier. Is the house occupied at the moment?”
No, Reilly thought. Not for the last two decades.
“Twenty-one years? My goodness…a caretaker, well that’s good. Mr. Carrington, I’ll put you on with my assistant and she can get all the necessary information…yes, I’ll be leaving for the island this evening…no, thank you.”
Cassandra rose, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. “Here, Lily, find out all you can. The condition of the house, its history—”
“I know, I know,” Lily slid into Cassandra’s chair and grabbed the pen.
“Try not to drool all over my phone, okay?”
Lily offered another quick wink before resuming the call, all business with professional questions and note taking.
Reilly waited until Cassandra moved to Lily’s desk, picking up the forgotten cup of tea. By the look of concentration on her face, he guessed her mind was already at work on a home she hadn’t seen yet. “Sounds like an amazing opportunity.”
Cassandra’s head jerked up. “Yes, it is. This is the first call I’ve gotten for work outside the city, so it’s pretty exciting though it’s short notice. I’ve never worked on a summer cottage before. A cottage…I’m sure the place has a dozen bedrooms.”
Reilly closed the magazine and quickly counted. Only seven if you included the housekeeper’s quarters. “Lily has everything under control.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Cassandra smiled at her assistant before turning back to Reilly. “Yes, as usual, unlike me. I’ve got to pack, see my mother, and let Willard know—”
“Oh Cass, I forgot to tell you.” Lily rejoined them, head bent while she continued to scribble on the notepad. “Willard’s on his way to Chicago.”
Reilly straightened at the distressed look that came over Cassandra’s face. “What’s wrong? Is this unusual for him?”
“No, not really.” Cassandra turned away. “He travels quite often for the law firm.”
“And not tell you beforehand? Why didn’t he say anything last night at the party or try to call this morning?”
“Maybe he did, but you and I were on the phone so much he probably couldn’t get through.” Cassandra placed the teacup
back on the desk.
“Ah, actually it was his secretary I spoke with. She also said that she was mailing a package to you. I offered to go pick it up, but she said she’d already put it in today’s mail.” Lily shrugged.
“Ah, okay. I guess I’ll get it when I get back.” Cassandra appeared lost in thought for a moment. “My mailbox isn’t going to hold whatever she is sending and my regular stuff. Lily, would you mind—”
Lily waved off the request. “No problem, I’ll take care of it and drop any mail over at your mom’s while you are gone. You should head home and get packed. I’ll have everything ready when you get back, including transferring my hieroglyphics to your laptop.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea. I’ll need a car. Can you have them deliver it to my mom’s house? I’ll make that my last stop. And a room? Perhaps a bed and breakfast?”
Reilly crossed his arms over his chest before he spoke. “Make it two rooms. I’d prefer a suite, but at long as the rooms are next to each other I won’t complain.”
Lily’s eyebrows arched high on her forehead. Reilly couldn’t see the expression on Cassandra’s face, but he’d bet it wasn’t one of joy. Thanks to his half brother’s bank account and charming ways, it had been a lot easier than he’d expected to get Cassandra to take the job of redoing his beach house.
The beach house.
Despite the fact the only time he’d felt a part of the Carrington family was during the summers he, Rann and their mother had spent at Heaven’s Gate, he’d refused the Nantucket house when his mother died. The anger and hurt that burned deep inside five years ago—Reilly glanced at the date on his watch, five years ago yesterday in fact—surprised him. That was when he attended the funerals of his mother and stepfather, both killed when their private jet crashed in a freak ice storm. Childhood resentments, still so strong inside him, had made it impossible for him to accept anything from his mother, even after her death.
Cassandra turned around to face him. “I know I don’t even have to ask, right? You plan on going with me.”
It took a greater effort than he thought it would, but Reilly managed to tuck away his memories. He offered Cassandra a bogus smile. “Miss Van Winter, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
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