Mommy Heiress (Accidental Dads #2)

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Mommy Heiress (Accidental Dads #2) Page 2

by Linda Randall Wisdom


  Cori’s eyes widened under his tirade. “I—”

  “Zeke, leave the girl alone. She’s trying to eat her meal,” the waitress scolded.

  Cori looked at her rescuer with gratitude.

  “Her car ain’t even American made,” he told the woman.

  “That’s her business, not yours. Now shoo!”

  He grumbled a few times as he slid off the stool and ambled off toward his friends who had been watching the proceedings with great interest.

  “Nosey old goat,” Sophie grumbled, then speared Cori with a sharp look. “I guess you’re not used to that in the big city where a person don’t even care about their neighbor. Here, we look out for each other.”

  “It’s not always that way where I come from,” Cori felt obligated to protest even as a tiny voice in her mind reminded her that she didn’t know the name of the people who lived in the neighboring mansion. For that matter, she never really cared to find out. “Do you think it’s going to take them long to fix my car?” she asked with a shred of desperation. After her day, she knew it was time to head home.

  The waitress shrugged. “Depends how long it will take to fix Doc’s.”

  She felt her shoulders wilt. “His is more important, yes, I understand.”

  “It is when he’s the only medical help we’ve got for a hundred miles around.” She walked off when one of the men called her name.

  As Cori read her book and ate her salad, she felt everyone’s eyes on her. And heard assorted murmurs around the restaurant. This wasn’t the first time she had been the center of attention, but it was the first time she felt a bit uncomfortable about it. She didn’t linger over her meal and impatiently waited for her check. Maybe she could persuade the mechanic to work on her car. And if persuasion didn’t work, she figured bribery would.

  She paid the check and left Sophie a tip. She had barely taken three steps away from the coffee shop before she realized she had an entourage. The four men who had been sitting at the rear table, including her two interrogators, were behind her.

  She ignored them—and the heat beating down on her head—and made her way back up the street. She couldn’t help but hear their whispered conversation.

  “Wow, she’s really pretty. You think she’s Meg Ryan? She sure looks like her.”

  “Now why the hell would Meg Ryan be all the way out here?”

  “You don’t know everything. Maybe she’s out here making a movie.”

  “No, I don’t think she’s Meg Ryan, you nincompoop. ‘Sides, she wouldn’t be out here without Dennis Quaid.”

  “She doesn’t look like Meg Ryan to me, either. She looks more like Michelle Pfeiffer, but with shorter hair.”

  “You idiot, she’s not Michelle Pfeiffer, either. You take a look at those legs. Nobody but Sharon Stone has legs like those.”

  Cori thought of turning around and correcting their misconceptions, except she guessed they were having too much fun with their argument. Besides, by then she was smiling as she reached the garage.

  She had just stepped onto the property when she noticed a tall, lean man, dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt, talking to Jess, then shaking his hand and climbing into the dark blue truck she remembered seeing in the garage hoisted up on a rack.

  “Obviously, Doc got someone to pick up his precious truck that he needs so desperately,” she murmured, intrigued by the brief sight of brown hair, tanned skin and what looked like a very nice body.

  Cori walked into the garage and Jess greeted her with a sheepish grin.

  “I called about the parts for your car, ma’am,” he told her. “I can get them in about a week.”

  “A week! No, you don’t understand. I need my car today!” She dug through her purse and pulled out her wallet. “Look, call them back. Tell them I’ll pay extra for immediate delivery.” She handed him one of her credit cards.

  Jess gaped at the gold card she held out. He took it gingerly between grease-stained fingers and walked back to the office. He picked up the phone and rapidly punched in numbers. In a moment, he was speaking quietly into the receiver. A moment later, he gave her the thumbs-up.

  “I’ll just need to get authorization from the credit company for the repairs,” he explained, picking up the phone again. “My boss insists on it.”

  Cori looked around, noticed the cluster of admirers, flashed them a smile and turned back to the office where Jess listened with a frown wrinkling his brow. He said something, then hung up. He walked back slowly.

  “I’m real sorry, Miss Peyton, but they said your credit card was no good.”

  “What? Well, there must be a mistake. I used it this morning to pay my hotel bill.” She shook her head as she gave him another card from her wallet, then extended her hand for the first card. “I’ll have to check into it tonight.”

  He held up the card in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. “They said I have to cut it up and send it back to them. They pay me for doing it.”

  “What?” She reached out to grab it back, but he was faster. Before Cori’s eyes, her credit card was cut into four pieces. “This is ridiculous! What did they say?”

  Jess hung his head, unhappy to be the bearer of bad news. “The lady said your account was canceled.”

  “Canceled?” she parroted, ignoring the murmurings from behind. Didn’t these men have anything better to do than stand there and eavesdrop on what should be a private conversation? “Why would anyone want to cancel my credit card?” The moment the words left her mouth, the realization lit up inside her brain. “May I use your phone?”

  He shifted uneasily. “You’ll have to use the pay phone around back.”

  “Thank you,” she snapped, marching around back. She looked over her shoulder. Oh, yes, she still had her shadows. “Don’t you have something to do?” she asked frostily.

  It didn’t deter them.

  “Not a thing,” one of the men assured her with a broad smile.

  “The phone’s right over there,” one of the other ones offered, pointing past her.

  “Thank you.” Cori dialed the number, then her calling-card number. All she got was a computer voice telling her that her card was no longer valid. She dug through her wallet, pulled out change and dropped it in the slots. “Collect call to Sean Peyton from Cori,” she said in a clipped voice, turning her back on the men.

  She wasn’t surprised when the company operator accepted the charges and immediately routed the call to her father’s office.

  “Where the hell are you?” Sean’s voice boomed in her ear.

  “Somewhere in the Midwest.” By now she could feel her nerves starting to unravel. First her car, then her credit card. What next? “One of the ‘I’ states, I think. Illinois, Iowa, one of those. I never could keep them straight.”

  “Toto don’t realize she’s in Kansas,” one of the men snickered.

  Cori’s shoulders stiffened. “Do you mind?” She glared at the group. “This is a personal call.”

  “Don’t worry, darlin’, we’ll give you all the privacy you need,” one of the men assured her as they stepped one pace back. “We just wanted you to understand that you’re in the great state of Kansas. Farrington, to be exact.”

  Cori took a deep breath.

  “What is going on there?” Sean demanded.

  “You canceled my Visa,” she accused him.

  “That’s right, and all your other cards, too.”

  “What!” She was stunned. “All of them? Why?”

  “Because I want you to come to your senses and come home. You’ve had enough time to pout. Now it’s time for you to get back where you belong. We can talk more calmly about your idea for that inn.”

  Cori held her breath. Her father never gave in without a reason. “And?”

  “And if you want to work so badly, you can come into the office and work for me. There’s no reason why you can’t start in Phyllis’s department. It’s a good entry-level job for you and you can work your way up there. Lea
rn the meaning of a dollar. Once you show me you have a logical head on your shoulders for business, we’ll talk about the inn again. Now why don’t you tell me where you are.”

  Her mind quickly ran a few calculations. “I need my Visa reinstated to have my car repaired.”

  “Don’t worry about the car. I’ll arrange your transportation home.”

  That was when the truth hit her with a blinding realization. Once her father had her home and working for him, she would be under his thumb. And that would only be the beginning. He would arrange her life the way he’d wanted to since she turned eighteen. She would never have a chance to break out and find what she was truly meant to do. He’d even be back to finding the appropriate husband for her. He’d been making noises for some time now that he’d like to see some grandchildren before he was too old to enjoy them.

  “Where are you?” Sean asked again, his accent strong with his agitation.

  “No, I don’t think so,” she said slowly.

  “You don’t think what?”

  “No, I don’t think I’m going to come back and work for you, and, no, I don’t think I’m going to tell you where I am.” She took a deep breath. “Don’t worry, Daddy, I’ll be all right.” With careful deliberation, she slid the phone back onto the hook, disconnecting the call and her father’s orders.

  Cori leaned against the rough boards, uncaring they were snagging her delicate silk top. At the moment, all that mattered was the understanding that by cutting herself off from her father she had literally stranded herself in some small town, in some corn state—she wasn’t sure which one.

  “Ma’am?” Jess looked uncertain as he walked toward her. “What should we do about your car?”

  She took a deep breath. “How much are the parts?”

  He handed her the work sheet. Cori winced when she read the figures. She knew she didn’t have that much cash in her wallet, and after her talk with her father, she wouldn’t be surprised if he found a way to close her checking account, too.

  Why had she started this crazy drive to nowhere after her fight with her father? All the stress from the past hour had done was leave her head pounding and her stomach churning. Right now, all she wanted was to sit down in a cool place and not have to think about anything. She closed her eyes against the tiny feet wearing combat boots marching through her head. She opened her eyes and looked at the men still watching her as if waiting to hear what she would say next.

  “I think…” was all she got out before her eyes rolled back in her head and she slid gracefully to the ground.

  *

  “SUCH A PRETTY little thing. Do you think that hair’s her natural color? It’s got to be a dye job. No one can have hair that color of blond. I wonder if she uses Clairol or L’Oreal.”

  Cori’s hearing returned first. It took a moment for her to realize she was no longer lying in the dirt but on something slightly padded. A hand, slightly calloused, was curved around her wrist, a thumb pressing against the soft inner skin. She wasn’t sure, but she had a vague idea the person holding her wrist was taking her pulse. At least she knew she wasn’t dead.

  “Enough about her hair, Ella. It looks as if she’s coming around.” A male voice seemed to roll around in her head.

  A faint memory of a chocolate mousse she’d once consumed at a ski resort in Gaastad came to mind. His voice sounded the way it tasted: rich, smooth and sinful. She slowly opened her eyes. He looked the way he sounded. About as sinful as a man could get.

  She blinked several times, frowning as the face in front of her seemed to ebb and flow like the tide. When she shifted her body, the paper underneath her crackled.

  “Who are you?” she whispered, now recognizing the man’s face as the one she had seen at the garage. The one in the sexy black T-shirt. Except now, he wore a white lab coat over it.

  Only doctors wore lab coats, whispered a little voice in her mind. Except he didn’t look like any doctor she’d ever dealt with. And no doctor she knew had deep brown eyes. Not brown puppy eyes, either, but “it’s a hot time in the old bed tonight” brown eyes. She blinked several times.

  He smiled. “Welcome back, Miss Peyton. How do you feel?”

  Cori started to sit up, then moaned as the earth tipped on its axis. She flopped back before it tipped all the way. “Like I’ve been set down in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle. Who are you?”

  “I’m Dr. Ben Cooper,” he explained. “You fainted over at Cal’s. Jess was afraid you were sick and brought you over to the clinic.” He frowned and looked carefully into her eyes. “He didn’t think you had hit your head.”

  She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the examination table. This time her balance remained stable.

  “I’d be luckier if I had. No, I’m just fine. My car is broken down, I have no idea where I am and my father canceled all my credit cards.” She looked at him suspiciously. “What do you folks do here, drag in people so you have patients to examine? Isn’t this town big enough to give you enough business? How do I know someone didn’t slip knockout drops in my Diet Coke?”

  The nurse, standing behind the doctor, gasped at the slur. He merely grinned.

  “Hey, a doc’s gotta do what he can when business is slow.” He picked up her cap and handed it to her. “Sophie said you only ate a salad for lunch. What did you have for breakfast?”

  “I assure you I have very good dietary habits,” she said huffily. Ever since she started receiving injections, she had hated doctors. They were synonymous with pain. She shifted her body experimentally. At least he hadn’t tried to give her a shot while she was unconscious.

  “What did you eat?”

  Cori could see he wasn’t going to move back until she told him. And she couldn’t get all the way up until he did. “Toast, grapefruit juice and coffee. Are you happy now?”

  He shook his head. “Not with your idea of food. Sweetheart, I suggest you head over to Myrna’s and tuck yourself into a real meal before you pass out again. It’s only a guess, but I’d say you’re a good fifteen pounds underweight. I know that thin is supposedly in, but, honey, you’re asking for trouble.”

  “I don’t need a meal. I need a way out of here!” Cori could feel the heated moisture behind her eyes and hated the idea she was going to cry in front of total strangers. If she wasn’t so damn stubborn she’d call her dad back and beg him to take her away.

  Ben, sensing her distress, glanced over his shoulder.

  “Ella, why don’t you put Ricky in exam room two,” he suggested. “I’m sure he’s more than ready to have that cast taken off.”

  She looked at Cori suspiciously as if the young woman would suddenly abscond with the good doctor. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “I’d say Miss Peyton is fine now. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  She paused a moment, then turned around and walked out, pointedly leaving the door ajar.

  Ben grinned at the nurse’s notion of propriety before he turned back to Cori. His grin dimmed as he saw the woe etched on her features.

  “Hey, I’m not that bad a listener.”

  “Terrific. Do you act as the town shrink when medical emergencies run low?” She sniffed. “But then, I guess in a place this size you’d have to do what you can, wouldn’t you?”

  Most men would have lost their temper with her petulance by now, but Ben Cooper wasn’t like most men.

  “Fine, you’re hurting right now and, since you obviously threw a tantrum to dear old dad, you’re also in big trouble,” he stated. “Now, I admit we may not have all the features of a big city, but we do pretty well for ourselves. Tell you what, there’s a guest house out back that’s not being used. You’re welcome to stay there until you can straighten things out.”

  She narrowed her gaze. Suspicion was strong in her mind at his kind offer. “Why?”

  “Because the town doesn’t have a proper hotel and I don’t think you have the money for the motel we do have. And since it’s not even close to a five-star r
esort, I doubt you’d want to stay there,” he stated bluntly. “But let’s be honest about this. I’d hazard a pretty good guess you don’t have a lot of money on you and no credit cards, so you don’t have a lot of choices, do you?”

  Cori squirmed under his direct gaze.

  “I hate doctors,” she muttered, sliding off the table and looking around for her purse.

  “Yeah, but we do have our good points.”

  Cori shook her head in surprise. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because you obviously need a place to think things out, and if you go back over to Myrna’s, even for a cup of coffee, you’d be spilling your life story to Sophie within five minutes. Trust me, she’s better than any police interrogator when she wants to know about a person.”

  “What about the unlucky four?”

  When Ben laughed, Cori hadn’t expected to feel a warm feeling course through her veins at the rich sound.

  “They’d love that.” He chuckled. “Just slip out the back door and you’ll be fine.”

  Cori still hesitated. “People don’t do things like this without a reason.”

  Ben still smiled. “You’ve been living in L.A. too long, Miss Peyton. Out here, people help one another and don’t expect a thing in return. If you want, I’ll stop by Cal’s and pick up your things later.”

  She gave a jerky nod. “Please call me Cori.”

  “There’re cold drinks in the refrigerator,” he told her, escorting her toward the end of the hall and opening the rear door. He gestured toward the small house at the end of a flower-edged path.

  She started to step out, then turned. “What about a key?”

  Ben smiled and shook his head. “We don’t lock up all that much out here.”

  He waited, watching her walk down the path, with head downcast, shoes scuffing the dirt.

  “That girl is pure trouble,” Ella pronounced from behind.

  Ben looked over his shoulder. “Think so?”

  She nodded. “She’s from a big city where sin is their idea of fun. Why, for all we know, she’s into drugs and wild sex.” Her pale blue eyes widened in horror.

 

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