Ner (Not So) Rich Millionaire Playboy: A Vintage Romance

by Amberlee Day

  “Not the time for a heart-to-heart,” Ned said. “I need to find Beverly and her aunt, make sure they’re alright.”

  “I left a message at the university,” Philip said. “They hadn’t heard from her, but they were going to leave a message. I didn’t have another phone number.”

  A part of Ned’s steam deflated. “Neither do I,” he said, realizing suddenly that he wasn’t sure how to get hold of them. “That’s just … great. Great, Dad. How do we even make sure they’re safe?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. But meanwhile …” He picked up a stapled stack of papers from the desk and extended them to Ned.

  “What’s this?”

  Philip stepped closer. “Take it.”

  Ned took it, and the words at the top jumped out at him. “‘Last Will and Testament of …’” He looked up at his father. “What is this?”

  Philip stood with his hands hanging limply at his side, not a natural pose for him. “After I sent the Tunes away, I went into the library. They had left out some old journals, and I started going through them.”

  “And you found this? Mom’s will?”

  “No. In fact, I realized that nothing there was your mother’s. And that was strange. She was always writing. So I went up to the tower room to find her journal.”

  “Because …?”

  Philip shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d already sent them off, so there wasn’t going to be a book about the castle. I guess it was already hitting me that I might not have been in the right.”

  “You think?” Ned said loudly.

  Philip turned around and dropped down in his chair again. “I did find her journal, and that was in it.”

  Ned rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t ready to think about this, and definitely not ready to read a will he hadn’t known existed. Where would Beverly and Dr. Tune be right now? “I need to go make some calls,” Ned said.

  “To a lawyer? I already called one.”

  “No, Dad! To find the Tunes. What if they need help?”

  “Then they’d call someone who could help them. And it’s been days already. I may be wrong, but you aren’t the only person on the planet they could call if they needed something.”

  His father was right, but Ned’s brain still skittered from one idea to another about how he might contact them. What was the name of Beverly’s bookshop? Had she ever told him? “I need to try,” he said, turning toward the door.

  “Ned,” his father said in a calmer voice that made Ned turn back around. “When you get a chance to go over that, you’re going to see that your mother did want you to have the castle.”

  Concern for the Tunes wouldn’t allow Ned to take hope in that or really think about it, but he nodded at his father. “We’ll talk about this later,” Ned said, “after I know they’re safe, and after we’ve both had a chance to make this right. And trust me, Dad.” He pointed a finger at his father. “You will make this right.”

  Chapter 17

  Beverly sniffled and took a sip from her water bottle. After two weeks of fighting a virus and processing the three thousand new books that Julie ignored during her absence, Beverly finally felt back to normal. She looked around at the bookshelves she’d tidied as she restocked, and smiled. She’d liked the orderly feel of that Grantsport store, and found that she liked the same improvement in her own shop.

  Her smile slipped a little when she thought of Grantsport, and Demander Castle. She hadn’t heard from Ned since he discovered her in his mother’s tower room. She couldn’t blame him. He’d probably written her off. Why would he want anything to do with her when he’d been right all along? She was a flake who read too many novels. She’d learned her lesson, and hadn’t opened a single novel in the past weeks except to mark the new price before placing it on its shelf. Still, when she thought of losing her chances with Ned, the sadness only seemed to get worse. Hopefully that would pass with time.

  While it was still early morning, she settled into her favorite reading chair with a new book. The main lights were out in the shop and the closed sign in the window, but the door was unlocked. She was expecting Aunt Affie to stop by. While fall classes hadn’t started yet and she’d given up on the Demander Castle book, Beverly’s aunt was hard at work finishing the West Coast castles book.

  When the bell jingled from over the door, Beverly called without looking up, “Come on in! I’m over here.” She flipped the book in her hand, reading the back. “Do you know anything about the Dust Bowl? It seems to be a popular subject.”

  “I know it was dusty,” came a deep voice she recognized in an instant. A gasp escaped her lips just as a pair of shoes stepped into her lamp’s circle of light, and they weren’t Aunt Affie’s.

  Beverly jumped up from her seat. “Ned!”

  A hesitant smile met her, his hands dug deep in his pockets.

  “What are you doing here?”

  That little corner of his mouth turned up, and whatever surprise she felt at his sudden appearance, her insides instantly turned to jelly. “Do you know how many bookstores there are in Albuquerque?” he asked.

  Her heart fluttered like it had just woken up. He’d been looking for her! Poor Ned. “A lot?”

  He nodded. “You never said what your shop is called.”

  “You never—” She bit her lip.

  “I never asked.”

  “I have no room to criticize you.”

  A slight frown on his forehead deepened. “I’ve left messages at the university for your aunt. They did tell me she’d returned from her trip, but she never called me back.”

  A nervous laugh bubbled up. “Aunt Affie’s terrible about checking messages.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Beverly, I need to explain something. I had nothing to do with you and your aunt being thrown out in the middle of the night,” he said, practically spitting out the words. “It was all my father’s doing.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does. He had the stupid idea that you were your sister. I wondered that last night when we were at dinner and you told me about her. It all made sense: why he was suddenly so happy to have you there and push all this information about our excursions on you.”

  “My aunt guessed, too. She didn’t say anything, though.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, neither of you. It was actually Natalia’s fault.”

  Beverly folded her arms in front of her. Natalia’s presence that morning in the tower room was something she hadn’t been able to let herself think too much about. Were she and Ned a couple after all? But Beverly had no right to ask.

  “Natalia told my father you were your sister using a different name,” Ned said.

  Beverly closed her eyes for a few seconds. “Wait. I don’t understand. Why would she do that?”

  “I wondered that at first, too. It had nothing to do with you, though, and she didn’t realize she’d be making trouble. She was trying to help me, kind of as a thank-you—or incentive, I suppose—for me helping her with her boyfriend.”

  A balloon of emotion swelled slightly in Beverly’s heart. Maybe there was still more to this than she’d figured out; maybe there was still hope. “Natalia’s boyfriend?” she asked.

  “Adam, the handyman at the castle. He’s also an artist. Sells a lot of work in town. He and Natalia have been dating on and off for years, but he’s not ready to settle down.”

  Beverly nodded. “I can picture that.”

  “You can?” he looked worried, and despite all the feelings rushing through her, she really laughed.

  “He didn’t flirt with me. I can just imagine.”

  “Okay,” he said, relief showing in his features so openly she could have kissed him. “Anyway, Natalia thought it would help me get the book written if my father treated you like special guests. It almost worked.”

  “Until I messed up,” Beverly said. Finally they were coming to the part that was still excruciating.

  But Ned put his hands lightly on her bare arms, sending
shivers through her. She thought she’d never feel his touch again. “You didn’t mess up. My father did.”

  “But I was still wrong. I’m so sorry I went to your mother’s room. It was private, and I shouldn’t have crossed that line.”

  “If you would have asked, I would have taken you there. I don’t know why I didn’t offer in the first place. Habit, I guess. I just never went in.”

  Tears suddenly stung Beverly’s eyes. “But your father, I suspected that he might have …” She couldn’t finish, as much as she wanted to take ownership of that mistake. The words wouldn’t come out.

  “I can hardly blame you for that, especially the way he acted when he found he was wrong about you. Which, it turns out, happened when he contacted your sister’s publisher to see how much he could milk out of her supposed visit to Demander.”

  “And he found out Lavinia was out of the country.”

  “Exactly. My father’s not a kind man, Beverly. I’ve never understood what my mother saw in him. But no, he didn’t do anything to physically harm her. Her death was sudden, but it was all medically explained, nothing suspicious.”

  “It’s awful that I did something that made you even have to tell me that,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “He is, surprisingly, sorry for what he did to you and your aunt.”

  “Oh,” Beverly said, though she couldn’t picture that. “Okay.”

  “And … well … he’s trying to make things right.” Ned cleared his throat. “But Beverly, I’m here because I wanted to apologize. If I hadn’t been rushing to get to my conference, I would have stopped and talked it over with you. I was surprised, but the only one to blame for how I acted was me. Can you forgive me?”

  “I’m the one that needs to ask forgiveness.” She held her breath, wondering if this was all he came for.

  But he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and the handsome playboy she met that first night at Trenforth Castle was suddenly the nervous youth she’d pictured when he ran into the menswear store to get out of the rain. “I could have called you to apologize, Beverly. If I had a number. But what I’m really hoping is that you might give me another chance. If I ever had one to begin with.”

  Beverly exhaled, but it took her a moment to speak. As her eyes had adjusted to the light beyond her lamp, she’d been watching for that sparkle in Ned’s eyes, the light that was there the first time she’d seen him. Where was it now? She needed to know that he wasn’t coming to her out of guilt, but because he really wanted to be there.

  “I’ve been reading nonfiction,” she said lightly, pointing at the book she’d dropped on the chair.

  “I saw that,” he said. “Something about the Dust Bowl.”

  “Mmhm. I decided I needed a better-rounded reading list. But the thing is, even though it got me into trouble, I still love novels, Ned.”

  “Alright.”

  She couldn’t read his expression. “So while I may not be reading a murder mystery this time, I’m still going to read them.”

  “And romance novels?” He made a cursory glance around the shop, but when his gaze returned to her, there was that twinkle! Delight spread through her, from her braid to her toes. “You told me your books were all pink. I can see that isn’t true.”

  “No, it’s not true.” She watched his eyes grow wide as she stepped closer, the electricity between them suddenly crackling. She slid her arms up his shoulders and around his neck, something she’d wanted to do ever since he arrived. Instantly she was rewarded with that spicy orange tree scent she loved, and she shifted even nearer when it made her knees go weak. She smiled up at him, and took a long breath. “But as long as you’re alright that I’ll still be enjoying novels, I’d say we still have a chance.”

  Ned took her breath away wrapping her in his arms and drawing her closer. He looked at her lips, and she pressed her body lightly to his. Just before he kissed her, he promised, “Beverly Tune, I want you exactly the way you are, and I wouldn’t have you imagine it any other way.”

  Beverly would have said the same about him, but it would have to wait. His kiss touched her lips light as a feather, and it felt like a new beginning. Once upon a time … His kisses heated up, more urgent and possessive. When she looked up into those flirtatious playboy eyes, she remembered what Julie had said: Maybe Ned just needed one last woman who thought he was hot before he stopped giving women that twinkling look.

  No. She knew him better now, and that wasn’t Ned.

  “You’re not really a playboy, are you?” she asked.

  The twinkle! “If I am, I’m doing it wrong. I haven’t been on a date in years.”

  “I don’t know. I think you’re doing it just right.”

  His finger found her jawline, as he had under the curtain and at her castle door, tracing along till he touched her lips. She shivered. This time, he followed the move up with another kiss, one that reached all the way to her beaded sandals. Her foot slowly popped up as his kisses moved to her neck, and her whole being responded. She pulled him closer, unable to get enough of him.

  Just when she began to consider that they may need to slow this moment down, the shop door bell rang. “Well.” Aunt Affie’s voice reached her ears, and Ned drew back, a panicked look touching his features. “There you are, Ned. It’s about time. Go ahead, don’t let me stop you.”

  But kissing Beverly in front of her aunt wasn’t Ned either. His chin tipped downward. “To be continued?” he whispered.

  “Definitely,” Beverly said, thinking of what would come next in this love story. “I love a good page-turner.”

  Epilogue

  “I honestly worried it would be too much, but I like it.” Ned stood back by the library door, his arms folded and head cocked to one side. “Do you think it’s too colorful, though?”

  Beverly slipped her hand through the crook of his arm, always her favorite spot. The library wasn’t so different. Newer books brightened many of the shelves, including a children’s book section. Oversized pillows with cheery patterns and, yes, a few cozy blankets big enough for two sat rolled up like logs in a basket. “No, it’s just right. Except for the red curtains, you’re just not used to any color at all in here.”

  “I think my mother would have liked it. Wait a minute, what’s this?” Ned took her hand and led her closer to the library’s new display, showcasing Death at Radcliffe Castle and Dr. Tune’s newly released book on Demander Castle, and picked up a small framed photograph. It was the one from his mother’s tower room of him with her as a little boy. “Why would anyone want to see this?”

  Beverly took the picture and put it back in its spot. “I know you don’t want this to be about you, but you’re what makes all this history come to life. You’re a living, breathing descendant of your mother, and of Nathan and Tess and all the Demanders who lived here over the years.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “I’ll have to trust you on this.”

  “You should trust her,” Aunt Affie said, coming in from the hall. “Beverly’s got a knack for what makes this place shine. She should—she’s done as much research as I have. This new book’s as much her doing as mine.” She picked up one of the books stacked on the table, standing it up next to the latest edition of Death at Radcliffe Castle. “There. Now we’re ready for the people to come. What time is this shindig supposed to start?”

  “Half an hour,” Beverly said. “Mingling, lecture on the new book, and then signings.”

  “And by then I’ll be ready for bed. I only had a short nap today, too excited.”

  “Is Louis coming?” Ned asked.

  “Is that the used-bookshop owner?” Aunt Affie asked. “The one here in Grantsport you’re switching shops with?”

  Beverly glanced at Ned, who bit his lip. “It’s not certain that we’re ‘switching,’ Aunt Affie. Louis is interested in relocating somewhere less rainy, but he hasn’t decided for sure.”

  “Well, he’d better,” her aunt said. “If I’m going to r
etire here in Grantsport, my favorite niece needs to be here with me.”

  Beverly shook her head. “You’ve been saying you’re going to retire for twenty years, Aunt Affie. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “Well, I’m doing it. Ned even found a little place for me on the next block.”

  “What?” Beverly looked back and forth between her aunt and Ned. “When did this happen?”

  Ned opened his mouth to answer, but Aunt Affie beat him to it. “Recently. Are you surprised? Ned and I have lots of little secrets you don’t know about.”

  That sparkle lit Ned’s eyes, and if they were alone Beverly would have slipped right into his arms. “Is that right?” she asked.

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” he said.

  “Hmm …” A thought suddenly occurred to her. “Ned, did you remember to invite your father tonight?”

  He looked toward the open library door. “I did. I don’t think we’ll be seeing him, though.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “No. Maybe I should be. He is my father, after all. But I think him deeding over Demander to me is the most we’ll see him involved for a while.”

  “That was a big deal. I still hope it wasn’t just remorse from kicking us out that night.”

  “If it is, that’s fine with me. Though I think he knew if I’d talked to a lawyer, Mom’s will would have been enough that he’d lose the castle anyway.”

  “I hope it’s because he realized Demander rightfully belongs to you. He’s probably pretty busy with his new hotel, now, though.”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Ned said. “I think he’s happier there.”

  “He should be. It’s right up his alley. Shiny, new, ritzy … And right in downtown Seattle.”

  “Center of the action,” Ned said. “Perfect fit for him. I’m glad it worked out. Really. Especially since it made all this happen. The Demander book got finished, the new historical district has been established, and I have some amazing new people in my life because of it.”