by Amberlee Day
“No, I’m not as upset,” he told her. “We found the leak, and we’re working with it.”
Ouch. She squirmed but look resolved, as if he were going to blame her again. Still, she put on a very wide, lovely, but false smile. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Was it me?”
If he could have kicked himself and not looked crazy ... “It was Lester.”
She blinked. “Lester?”
“Brenda’s husband. He met some shyster in Vegas, someone who was lending him cash and building him up just to prey on him. A real con artist.”
“That’s terrible.”
“When he realized that this eager, compulsive gambler was also the husband of the one and only Brenda Lee Mitford, the guy pumped Lester for information, found out from what Lester had seen on Brenda’s social media presence that someone was impersonating her and that she was probably in Vegas looking for him, which all turned out to be true. The guy got as many details as he could, sold the story to the highest bidder. Lester’s feeling like a chump, but he’s already home in Oklahoma with Brenda’s brother under lock and key while she finishes up in Harvest Ranch and we get her some better publicity.”
“That’s a crazy, sad story.”
“It is, but I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve been investigating rumors that Brenda’s been meeting with Kravitz Group, our biggest competitor. Turns out it’s true, but I found out yesterday it was because they paid Lester to set up the meeting. He’d already taken the money, so she had to go just to satisfy the debt.”
“Yikes. That must have been uncomfortable for everybody.”
“Yeah. She has no intention of leaving Prescott. That was all before this Vegas fiasco, but at least everything’s out in the open now. I’ve got a team helping from my office now to fix her image.”
“Her brand, you called it before. That seems so sad, since she’s a real person with real problems.”
Freddie felt relief that Kate got it, and a great love for her that she had such empathy for people in pain, even Brenda Lee. After what he’d accused Kate of, she could hate them both. “She’ll be alright. We’ve got her on board to be the face of a gambling addiction support group, so that will turn a negative into an asset. She’s also going to be talking to youth about the dangers of gambling, and on the board of the national labradoodle society.”
“And you accomplished all this this morning?”
“After several dozen phone calls and schmoozing up to a lot of people.” Just thinking about the tangle of favors he now owed made him nauseous.
“That’s impressive,” she said in the same tone she might have used complimenting him on blowing his nose. No more empathy in her voice, but she wasn’t hostile, either. “I suppose Mrs. Mitford’s taking a nap after all that.”
“She’s getting ready for that interview with the Harvest Times now.”
Kate’s lower lip slid sideways. “McGee was here earlier. He wondered if you were still going to go through with it.”
Freddie put a fist on his tightening stomach. Here it goes. They were delving into it. “Had he seen the online stories, then?”
“Not that he mentioned. He had a completely different scandal brewing in his head.” Kate stood up and slowly came around to the front of the desk. She wore leggings and an oversized sweater, her smooth, shoulder-length hair just brushing the honey-colored yarn. Why had he ever teased her about her casual style? Right now, he couldn’t think of anything more perfect, and his arms ached to hold her.
Had she said “scandal”? “Sorry, what’s that? Did McGee mention what ‘completely different scandal’ he was thinking of?”
Kate pulled a wrinkled eight-by-ten photo that she’d been holding behind her back. She handed it to Freddie.
It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at, and when he did, heat flooded through him like warm syrup. He ran a hand over his mouth, not sure what to say. “Did he recognize you?”
“Nope.”
“That’s good, anyway.”
“Is it, though?” she asked lightly, tilting her head.
He let the pins fall into place. “Ah, shoot. So, you’re saying he thought ...”
“Uh-huh. He thinks that is a picture of you and Brenda Lee.”
Questions popped in Freddie’s head like brain pimples. He ran a hand through his hair. Would they have to do a press release on this, too? His communications director in New York had already sent one out this morning giving some of the key points of Brenda Lee and Lester’s situation, but they hadn’t identified her impersonator in Harvest Ranch. Would he have to bring Kate’s name into it? Or his? His father would hate that.
“Well, that is a whole different kind of scandal,” he finally said. “So, what’s he planning for this interview? Ambush? Exposé? It would help if I knew the angle.”
“Angle?” Ah, shoot. He could see it in her furrowed brow and crinkled mouth. He’d made it worse again, but how could he not, with a second scandal was coming? “I’m not positive, of course, but the only angle McGee mentioned was protecting me.”
“He wants to keep your name out of the press? That’s a good sign.”
“No, not that. He wanted to warn me that you were Brenda Lee’s husband—”
“Her what?”
“—and that whatever else you might have tried to convince me of, you’re not available.”
“I see.” And he thought he finally did, looking at the picture again. “He doesn’t want you getting involved with a married man. That’s great. Because ... if I was married to Brenda Lee, and I was kissing you, that would be bad.”
She nodded. “I thought so.”
Relief settled in, and he grinned at her. “That’s great, then. I mean, if his only motive was protecting you, and he’s not thinking of using it to get himself a big headline, we’re in the clear. Right? For that particular scandal, anyway.”
“Yep, for that one, anyway.”
He took in her still sad, disappointed look. “You don’t look as happy about this as I am.”
“Why would I be?”
“Because ... your name won’t be in the papers.”
“I don’t really care about that.”
“Then what about this do you care about, Kate? I’m still not following. I know I messed up, accusing you of leaking the story to the press.” Even saying it out loud, he realized what a shallow, mean thing it had been. “I can’t go back and undo it. I am sorry. You’ve proved yourself to be a much better person than I am, and you deserve an apology.”
She stared at him for a minute but didn’t say anything.
He folded his arms, not liking the scrutiny. “I don’t know why I’m the one feeling so wrong and awkward here, Kate. I said I’m sorry, and I mean it. I do. But I’m just doing my job.”
“Your job?”
“Protecting Brenda Lee’s image and the Love at Home brand. Doing damage control. That’s part of my job.”
She nodded, folding her arms. “Do you even like your job, Freddie?”
He narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean? I have a great job. Very ... sought after. A lot of people who would give their eyeteeth to trade places with me.”
“But do you like it? When you talk about it, your face screws up. You rub your head like it gives you a headache. If you weren’t telling me that your job is great, I would assume you were doing something you didn’t like.”
He shouldn’t have done it, but his father’s face loomed up in his vision, making him feel like a failure who had to prove himself. Reacting without thinking, Freddie came at Kate with the sharpest tools he had: his words. “We can’t all dream our lives away, Kate. You’ve worked hard, but for what, five minutes at a time? A little at this, a little at that. What’s it brought you? Not a lot that I can see. Now you’re working your fingers off to make the Cornucopia all spiffy—” He sniffed. “—but what if you succeed and your parents don’t sell? Then what? Then you move on to the next thing, maybe move to Dayton and sell magazines
, or be a personal shopper in Phoenix for a while. Doesn’t matter what it is if you’ve already decided you’re just going to fail at whatever you do and move on to the next ... whatever.”
Self-righteousness billowed up, pushing the words out, until suddenly his own words rang in his head. He drew back. Mean, bossy, judgmental. It was like Dad had arrived and targeted Kate with his belittling instead of Freddie. But it wasn’t Dad; it was him. Freddie had meant to come in and apologize, see what he could do to fix things with Kate. Instead, he’d insulted her again. Even worse, he’d targeted his words to hit her right where they’d hurt the most.
He ran a hand over his face. “I keep doing it, don’t I? I’m sorry, Kate.”
She huffed a laugh, but he thought she might cry. In fact, when she swatted at her eye, he was pretty sure she was. “Don’t worry about it. It’s true. Anyway, I have things to do, and I’m sure you do too.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I should go check on Brenda Lee, actually. Kate, we’ll be here until Monday morning. Maybe ...”
She waved a hand briefly like she was erasing him. “I’ll be pretty busy. You’re planning on doing the interview here at the Cornucopia still?”
“Yes.” That was one thing he could do to make things right, keep his promise about giving the inn good publicity. He tried to laugh, keep things light. He poked out an elbow like he was getting ready to jump into motion, but he was pretty sure he just looked like the top half of a tap dance routine. He let his arm fall. “Brenda Lee loves the place. When I left her, she was already writing notes about how she’ll use it in her next book.”
“That’s great. It will mean a lot for the inn. I don’t know if it’s appropriate for me to bring it up, but if you could tell her ...”
“Of course.”
An awkward silence fell.
“If sometime during the next two more days you want to ...”
She took a step back, her hands clasped at her front. “If the Cornucopia Inn can do anything to make your stay the best it can be, Mr. Prescott, just say the word.”
Okay. Last-ditch effort. Flirting had gotten them started nine days ago; maybe she’d take the bait again. He smoldered her direction. “You know, we could—”
“I need to get back to work, Freddie. Good luck on the interview, and the brand repair.” She backed up until she could disappear again behind the desk. He watched while she picked up a pencil and started jotting notes down. Her Project Cornucopia notebook. He recognized the vegetable doodles in the margins. He’d been dismissed.
“Fine. Okay. See you around, Kate.” He headed out the back door, lifting a pathetic wave in the air, but she didn’t look up. This was on him, and he knew it was. He’d hurt and insulted her, all in the name of his job. A job that she’d accused him of not even liking. That kind of overstepped, didn’t it?
But walking out the door, he wasn’t sure what clenched his stomach more: being rejected by Kate, or realizing that everything she’d said about him was absolutely true.
Chapter 17
“So that’s it?” Dora asked, putting her hair up in a ponytail before starting work. She sat across from Kate at the office desk. “He’s been gone three weeks, and you haven’t heard from him?”
“What do you want me to say, Dora? He was only a guest, just here for the festival. I didn’t expect to hear back from him any more than I would any other guest.” Kate’s hands flew over the keyboard, typing up a new article for the inn’s website on their upcoming November specials. Her brain, however, tugged a different direction, one she’d been trying to forget. “Enough about Freddie Prescott. Tell me about your trip. Where did Scott take you that he said to pack your bathing suit? I’m suddenly noticing that you’re very tan.”
Dora smirked. “Cancún.”
Kate’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? Did Scott go with you or just send you on your own?”
“He went with me,” Dora said, twisting her mouth to the side. “I know, it’s crazy. If I hadn’t been there too, I wouldn’t have believed it. But the place was amazing. Scott fell in love with iguanas, and I have a new favorite drink—a virgin mojito. I got the bartender to give me his recipe, and I told Sostenes I’m going to make us some for our next Vampire Diaries marathon. By the way, how did things go while I was gone?”
“Fine, I think. You know that Sostenes’s sister Ignacia helped out. I couldn’t really tell them things I needed done since neither of them speaks English, but I drew pictures.”
Dora raised an eyebrow before getting up to straighten her uniform. “They speak English fine. Understand it, too. They’re second-generation citizens, never even been to Mexico.”
“Really?” That explained their expressions when she’d drawn the picture explaining that cabin four was out of toilet paper.
“I haven’t seen your parents since I got back. How was their cruise?”
A smile tickled at Kate’s lips. “They loved it. Brought me back this T-shirt.” She held out the hem so Dora could read it: I like big boats and I cannot lie. “In fact, they loved the cruise so much they got a last-minute deal on another one. They headed out yesterday.”
“Yowza! Good for them. Sounds like you’ve got a couple of addicts on your hands.”
“I know. Thirty years with hardly a vacation, and now they’re living the high life.”
“And the inn?” Dora’s voice had softened, which didn’t happen often. “I suppose they’re going through with selling the place to pay for their new hobby.”
“Nope. Turns out they didn’t need the inn money to fund their retirement; they just didn’t want to have to think about it anymore. They said as long as I want to run it, it’s mine.”
Dora let out a breath of air loud enough to make Kate jump. “That’s fantastic! So you get to keep the Cornucopia, and I get to keep my job.”
“Our efforts were not in vain.” Kate beamed at her.
“But seriously, if they’re only going to keep it because they’re expecting you to run the place, how long will that be?”
Way to pop the balloon, Dora. Freddie’s face popped into her head. He’d practically said the same thing during that last real conversation they’d shared. That horrible, painful conversation. But she pushed his face away with a few quick keyboard strokes. “Well, I expect to be here for a good five minutes, at least.”
“You know what I mean. We both know you don’t like to stay with one thing long, and you already spent eighteen years here growing up. If you’re planning on leaving, just make sure you give me warning. I’ll need time to get another job, or get Scott to get a second one. Hey, that’s not a bad idea.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m not going anywhere. I have plans for the Cornucopia. We’re still riding this Harvest Festival wave, booked to capacity most nights. I talked to the festival committee at their meeting last week, and there’s interest in increasing tourism other times of the year. Not sure what it will be, but something new is on the horizon. If I can get the inn updated, we’re situated to be right in the center of things, just like we used to be.”
“All I can say is good work, and your parents must have a lot of faith in you.”
“Thanks, Dora.”
“So what’s next on your list?”
Kate pulled out her notebook. “I planned on working some more on our new website, but first I need to see about something Dad wants me to look into.”
“What’s that?”
Kate sighed. It made her uncomfortable to think about. “He’s had an offer from somebody who wants to rent out the breakfast area.”
“Who is it? The folks at the café? You’d think guests would just walk on over if they wanted that.”
“No, someone from out of town. He didn’t say who they were, just that they’d be stopping by to look at the place. But Dad left it up to me to decide if what they wanted to do was reasonable.” And she knew what Dora was going to say. “I don’t really see a need to do much more than bagels a
nd donuts, though. Like you said, if somebody wants more than that, they can head on over to the café.” Memory of breakfasts with Freddie at the café fluttered in her chest, but they were just memories. She hadn’t been able to go back to eat at the café since he’d gone. It made her too sad.
“I don’t know. If I could get waffles without crossing the street, you wouldn’t find me complaining.”
Kate smiled and shook her head. “Yeah, that would be terrible, wouldn’t it? Anyway, I’m supposed to expect them at noon. Once that’s done, I’ll get right back to this website. If we’re going to be in Brenda Lee’s next book like she promised, it needs to be ready for a lot of attention.”
“Well, that’s right now, so you’d better get over there. Hey, is that Vanna going to be running the front desk if you’re doing all this other stuff?” She whispered that last part, even though no one else was around.
“Yes, she’s been coming in a couple of days a week. Why?”
“She’s kind of scary, don’t you think? Eyes bug out of their sockets every time you get close, like she’s scared what you’re going to throw at her.”
Kate chuckled but got up to go. “Yeah, I have noticed that. She’s doing a good job, though, and she pays closer attention than either of her brothers do. I’m heading out to the lobby to meet these people. Hope your first day back is good.”
“I hope Sostenes and her sister have been keeping things in the high standard we’re used to around here,” Dora huffed. “The Cornucopia’s known for the way we fold our towels and iron the sheets as much as we are for that fountain out there. We’ve got expectations to meet.”
Kate saluted on her way out. “Keep me posted.”
On her way back to the lobby, she began listing the visible changes she’d made at the inn over the past few weeks. The lobby was completely transformed, the front of the building painted and the new awning up. Her list of small repairs was slowing being checked off. Not bad for her. Maybe she’d finally crashed through her streak of bad luck when it came to a career ... knock on wood, which she often did when passing a particularly pretty maple tree growing in the courtyard. Of course, if she did end her losing streak in that area, it was only because she had so spectacularly lost at love. She couldn’t expect to have a career and romance, no matter how much it hurt to think about Freddie.