by Lynn Carmer
“What wasn’t for you? The job or just working in general?”
The barb stung. She might not have found her passion in life, like most of her sisters, but she’d never been lazy. Not that she should have to explain that to her own sister. “Well, you know me. If I don’t like it—I’m out.”
“Caelen.”
“Just leave it. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Especially to you. “Besides, this is hardly the time or the place.” Caelen tried to adopt the pinched, disapproving look her sister was famous for, but her face just didn’t crinkle that way.
“This discussion isn’t over,” Athena said.
Of course it wasn’t. When did Baby A ever let anything go? God, she could shoot somebody for a glass of wine right now. Maybe she could pass the time by thinking about all the ways she’d like to make Dare pay.
Ants in his bed, tickle torture, whips, chains, hot wax—Oh my! Her revenge fantasies had taken a decidedly “bodice ripper” turn. The images made her squirm in her seat.
Focus.
Caelen looked around what they all affectionately referred to as Mr. Brown’s office. It was Ms. Belle’s Charm School, but the elderly attorney had set up shop years before the Quads were even born. It had always been that way.
All four sisters were strategically placed in the solid oak chairs placed in a semicircle around Mr. Brown’s equally thick and woody desk. In fact, Ms. Belle must have been quite enamored with his surname, because the office was made exclusively of wood. Brown wood. The desk, the chairs, the walls, the floors. It was endless. Caelen’s nose twitched from the rich scent of “old people furniture.”
Now quite kyphotic after years of perusing paperwork, Mr. Brown could hardly lift his head as he addressed the girls. He cleared his voice and shuffled the papers clutched tightly in his hands. Caelen could just make out his bushy eyebrows above the stack. Back when they were kids, Caelen and her sisters had wondered if he’d made it past his 100th birthday, and that was over fifteen years ago. “Hello, Ms. Athena. How are you today?
Athena responded with a kind smile. “Fine, Mr. Brown. And how are you today?”
“I’m fine, fine. Thank you for asking. And how is your mother doing?”
Dear God! Was he going to go through his polite greeting with all four of them? Just wait until Dacey got to talking. They’d be here for months.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
The vintage, red and green carpet bag that sat in Caelen’s lap vibrated slightly. It was her latest and most fan-friggin’-tastic find ever to be purchased, at least for now. She might love her bag even more than her shoes. Might. And she’d paid for it all by her little lonesome, which explained why she was currently homeless. Her married-but-swore-he-was-separated boss had definitely put a crimp in her buying ability, a situation she hoped to remedy quickly.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
The familiar pang of shame started its heavy, insidious crawl through her stomach, souring everything it touched, reminding her of the horrible decisions she’d made this year. Why had she believed his lies?
The bag usually gave her such joy. The day she’d bought it had started out as the worst day of her life and ended as one of the best. She and Victor had gotten into a fight about his wife, again, and the two had broken up. After doing some “retail therapy,” she’d arrived home to find Victor at her doorstep with a sheepish smile and a little blue box. He’d whispered the three words she’d been waiting to hear, just after they’d made love. She’d thought those words meant that they’d finally be together, forever.
I am such a fool.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
The call of her cell was just too strong to resist. With a subtle stretch, she reached into her vibrating purse, keeping her eyes forward, so as not to attract attention. Her phone stopped buzzing just as she pulled it from the bag’s side pocket.
Missed call: Victor.
Followed by a text: We need to talk.
We need to talk? That was all he had to say after everything he’d put her through? For the humiliation alone of how he’d fired her in front of the entire staff and his wife, he should be groveling in person, not texting. Heat stole up her cheeks at the thought.
How had her life gotten to this point? He’d made her out to be a whore!
Who are you kidding? You did that all on your own.
There were a million things she’d like to text back. “Drop dead, asshole.” “Eat shit and die.” Or better yet, the oldie but goodie that used to be one of her favorites back in the day, “Suck balls.”
But she didn’t text any of those things. She’d never shown that side of herself to Victor, the sarcastic funny side that loved, loved, loved to curse. He’d only seen the perpetually happy party-girl, the carefree ditz that only focused on her next pair of high heels or which bottle of wine to have with dinner.
Not that those weren’t important parts of her personality. She liked to have fun, but it wasn’t the only side to her.
With a flick of her thumb, her phone was on silent mode and banished to the bottom of her purse. She would like to pretend she avoided responding because she was over Victor, but unfortunately, she just didn’t know what to say. Usually, she was the queen of comebacks. In my own mind.
The room had gone silent and five pairs of eyes bored into her. Caelen hadn’t realized Mr. Brown had finally gotten around to, “Hello, Ms. Caelen. How are you today?”
“Well, hello, Mr. Brown. I am just fine today, thank you,” Caelen said as she flipped her long hair over her shoulder. She plastered her “you are the cat’s meow” smile on her face and narrowed her focus on the wrinkly man sitting before her. “My, don’t you look handsome. Is that a new tie you’re wearing?”
Mr. Brown blushed and cleared his throat. With a freckled hand, he reached toward his throat and grasped the—surprise, surprise—brown tie. “Why, thank you, yes. Yes, it is new.”
All was forgiven. Men were so simple. Send them a little attention, stroke their ego or in her boss’s case, one frequently protruding member, and they were putty in your hands.
Oh yeah? Then how come you’re jobless and alone?
Damn it, there must be some Pinot somewhere in this office. Sigh. Athena nudged her in the ribs with her elbow, and Caelen begrudgingly refocused on Mr. Brown.
“…to the matter at hand. But first, I must reiterate what a pleasure it is to have the Calvo Quads back again. I say, the place was never the same when the four of you went off to college. Ms. Belle was heartbroken but so very, very proud.” He cleared his throat, heavily. “As you know, Ms. Belle passed away six months ago…”
Ms. Belle.
Her chest tightened at the thought of a world without the smart, dignified and infinitely kind Ms. Belle. Had it really been that long since she’d died? Next to her mother, Ms. Belle had been the most important adult in her life. All of their lives.
They’d spent every day of their summer breaks at Ms. Belle’s Charm School, learning proper etiquette and manners befitting young ladies. Their mother had worked at least two jobs and she’d never been able to afford camp or a babysitter, so off they’d gone to Ms. Belle’s. To work as slave labor.
But the girls hadn’t cared. They loved every minute of the insanity. Nestled at the base of the San Gabriel Mountains in Sierra Madre, it was an oasis from the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles.
Giant pines surrounded the town. People came from miles to see Christmas Tree Lane, and Ms. Belle’s Charm School sat smack at the top of that famous street. The trees had looked like skyscrapers to her as a kid, covered in Christmas lights. Caelen used to imagine that astronauts must be able to see their brilliance from space.
How she missed her. The proud Southern Belle had refused to tell anyone her real age, and Mr. Brown wasn’t talking, so who knew how old she’d been when she passed. Not that it mattered. Her life had been full, and she had been loved.
Caelen blinked her stinging eyes as she glanced around and saw all three of her sisters fighting back
tears. Caelen grabbed Athena’s hand and squeezed hard. She answered with a watery smile and squeezed back.
One by one, they all linked hands.
Mr. Brown cleared his throat again and said, “I have handled all of Ms. Belle’s legal matters, including her will, for many years now. There was a delay of the distribution of assets, but most of that has been ironed out.” Mr. Brown hesitated as if he, too, were getting choked up. “One part of the will has always been indisputable. Ms. Belle wanted the four of you to inherit Ms. Belle’s Charm School. She…”
Caelen’s mouth dropped so low, she thought her chin might hit her new bag. What? Ms. Belle had numerous employees and friends who were much more active in the business than the girls had been. Sure, they’d spent summers there as kids, but as soon as they had graduated from high school, they’d left town and never looked back.
“Congratulations. I can feel the excitement in the air. I am so relieved you seem happy with the news.”
He got excitement from shocked silence?
“There are, however, a few small issues.” From the expression on his face they looked anything but little. “Even though Ms. Belle always intended to leave the school to you, there is a third party involved that feels he has a claim to the school.”
“Third party?”
“Who?”
“I’ll kill him.” Athena had always been irrationally protective of Ms. Belle.
The questions raced by faster than poor Mr. Brown could process. He held up a wrinkled hand and proceeded as if they’d never spoken. “That is not the worst of it. The second problem is the school is also in danger of being foreclosed upon.”
“What?” said all four girls simultaneously.
“But please know, Ms. Belle had a long list of extensive instructions that went along with the inheritance of the property. She’d planned to have a large event that would have helped with some of the financial issues. But the event is a bit…unusual.”
For some reason, Mr. Brown started to blush a deep red and cleared his throat a few hundred times. “I’ll let you sort through it all. Here are the accounting books. She did everything by hand. Here is the ledger listing her clients, and here are the keys. Take your time looking this over, and please call if you have any questions. I’ll give you a few minutes of privacy as you digest this information.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Brown?”
“Yes, Ms. Dacey?”
Baby D just about bounced in her seat; Caelen could see the questions spinning in her hyper sister’s head. “I would like you to explain the ‘unusual event’ you referenced earlier, and how it’s going to help us keep the school from foreclosing.”
Mr. Brown’s high-pitched giggle erupted into a wheezing fit as he said, “I couldn’t begin to—That is, I wouldn’t know how to—”
The girls waited patiently as the flustered attorney fumbled for words. “Ms. Hattie will be here in a few minutes to explain everything. She worked with Ms. Belle on the, er, uh, specifics of the event.”
What the hell?
The girls waited, several minutes, for the slow and methodical man, his gait slowed by age, to leave the room; after all, they’d learned their manners from Ms. Belle herself. As soon as the door snicked shut, the room exploded in noise.
“What?”
“I thought Ms. Belle wanted it sold?
“Sold? Is it even profitable?
“What the hell does unusual mean?”
The questions shot out, one on top of the other. Caelen was the only one who hadn’t said a word.
As far as she was concerned, it was the first bit of good news she’d heard in three months.
Chapter 5
‡
IT’D TAKEN HIM a good half hour to finish the odd jobs around the property and head back into the school. The girls were still locked behind closed doors. Dare paused, his hands on his hips, just staring. Time to assess the situation. Caelen Calvo was on the other side of that door, looking gut-wrenchingly gorgeous, and a top secret meeting was taking place in Ms. Belle’s Charm School.
Further assessment of the situation? He wanted her so bad he couldn’t see straight, even when she’d played dumb and pretended she didn’t know him. It had only made him want her more. Why’d he ever think he wanted calm and placid?
Sweaty palms and racing heart … Both were sure signs he was a goner. This was usually how he’d felt right before he entered the ring, but somehow this was different.
All the adrenaline without the anger.
That was why he’d hated Caelen calling him Goldie as a kid. It solidified that he was the punk who had to fight his way out of South L.A., a rough neighborhood riddled with gangs and drugs. The problem was, he’d been good, really good, at boxing, because of the well of anger he could tap into. Broken home, alcoholic father, the list went on and on. Not an original story, but a familiar one. Thinking about his youth gave him sharp pain in the temples.
But now he had a taste of that old rush with none of the bitterness tagging along for the ride. He was in the ring and he had an opponent that could knock him out with one brush of those ruby red lips.
The sneak peek he’d gotten through the bay window hadn’t done her justice. His Betty had changed, and he hadn’t thought perfection could be improved on.
She didn’t look much taller than she had in school, or maybe he’d just grown a lot since then. Street Rat had been one of his nicknames, and it’d been a dead-on description. Now, no one would dare use the moniker.
He made sure of it.
But with Caelen, so much had changed. She still looked like his Betty, but everything was more adult. Her curvy figure was more refined, more emphasized. Her waist seemed impossibly small below the most generous pair of breasts he’d ever seen, or more to the point, wished he’d seen.
Creamy, porcelain skin, black hair, and light green eyes. She would have been the epitome of cute, with her bowed, red lips and heart-shaped face, except for that bombshell body.
And what had she been wearing? His head was spinning from the encounter, but why was she wearing one of those small caps with mesh hanging over her face? Like she was going to a funeral. Not that he should be surprised. Caelen had always been decked out in one crazy outfit after another.
Just as he was about to turn and leave, he heard the Quads burst into laughter. What the hell kind of secret meeting was going on in there?
Ms. Hattie must be in there with them. He couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he recognized the slow melodic rhythm of her voice. Ms. Hattie had grown up in the south with Ms. Belle, and the cadence of her words always pleased him.
On impulse, he headed towards the stairs.
“Hey, Dare!”
Dare tensed to prepare for the blow. In seconds, a tiny whirlwind of knobby knees and sharp elbows flew through the air and into his arms. He couldn’t help but appreciate her enthusiasm. Ruffling her hair, he set her in front of him. “Hey, Squirt. What are you doing here?”
Dare studied the skinny teenager, focusing on the jut of her proud chin as she flicked long, mousy-brown hair over her shoulder. Carly, a.k.a. Squirt, was one of the sad souls that Ms. Belle had scooped up and given a home-away-from-home, here at the school. Just like she’d done for him, the Quads, and hundreds of other lost kids. His chest felt tight when he thought about Squirt and what she would do now without the school. Everything had been shut down the last six months; only Ms. Hattie and a skeleton crew remained to take care of the bare necessities.
It looked like damaged minds thought alike, ’cuz Squirt was still hanging around. Just like him. “The usual. I’ve been helping Ms. Hattie and The Ladies.”
The Ladies That Lunch had been Ms. Belle’s crew, and they used to visit most afternoons. He hadn’t seen them in months. “They’re back? I’m going to have to go in and say hello.”
“Yeah. As soon as they heard the ‘Baby Quads,’ whatever that means, were back, they said they had to stop by. What’s the big deal about them, a
nyway?”
Dare chuckled as he considered how to described the crew. “Hmm. Best way I can explain them is ‘barely controlled chaos.’”
“You know them?” She bounced upon her toes, a spark of interest flashing in her eyes.
“Yup. We grew up here, together. Ms. Belle helped them out just like she helped me and you.”
Squirt’s face immediately shut down, her typical reaction when anyone brought up Ms. Belle. He didn’t blame the kid. It was a lot to process.
“So, anyway, I have some stuff to do around here. Be down in a minute.” Dare became antsy, distinctly aware time was ticking by. He needed to know what was going on with the Quads, specifically with Caelen. Knowledge is power.
“What are you doing? Hey! Where you going? Dare? I’ll just wait for you then, okay? I’ll visit with The Ladies.”
“Catch you later, Squirt.” Dare headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time. There was a broom closet above the office with a nice sized grate. If he was lucky, he might have a chance to listen in on the girls. Stalker, much?
A niggling feeling of guilt tickled his chest until he reminded himself that his opponent was ruthless. He would need every bit of ammo at his disposal in order to take her down, and if he had to jam himself inside a dusty broom-closet, no problem. He’d done far worse.
He hadn’t been this excited for a fight in… forever.
Chapter 6
‡
IT HAD ONLY been about five minutes after Mr. Brown fled his office that Ms. Hattie lumbered toward the front of the room. Her large frame sat atop the tiniest pair of feet Caelen had ever seen, and she found herself grateful for the gray cane Ms. Hattie used to navigate the short walk.
Caelen’s heart squeezed painfully at the reminder of the march of time. As a kid, she’d reveled in every moment she’d spent with such smart, strong women. Now Ms. Belle was gone, and Ms. Hattie looked frail and in pain.
Pulling the front of her hat forward, Caelen tried to hide the sheen of tears behind the black mesh as she waited for Ms. Hattie to make her way to Mr. Brown’s desk. She had a million questions to ask, but the proper grandmother-figure would think it totally uncouth if she launched into her mental list of demands.