The Heiress and the Mechanic: San Diego Social Scene Book 5

by Tess Summers

  His world started spinning, and he sat back in the chair, trying to make sense of what was happening.

  “Harper’s your granddaughter?”

  “Yes,” Mark answered. “You obviously know her.”

  Ben was thinking just the opposite—he obviously didn’t know her.

  He rubbed the beard on his chin and huffed out a fake laugh.

  “Well, I’m liv—, er, dating her, but I had no idea she was your granddaughter. I don’t think I would have come here today if I’d known that.”

  Instead of acting surprised or even confused, the older man started laughing.

  “Well, that doesn’t surprise me—and I don’t blame her for not telling anyone about her family. Ever since her fiasco of a marriage to Tyler—you did know she was married, right?” Mark paused, waiting until Ben responded with a nod of his head, then continued, “She was just finishing her last semester of law school and had come to the track to see her daddy. Tyler, who still only had a trial contract driving for Huntington Racing, found out she was the track owner’s daughter and thought he’d found his meal ticket when he met her.”

  With a sad smile, he looked at the photo of him with Harper clad in a cap and gown and grinning ear to ear with her arms around her grandfather.

  “In between him sweeping her off her feet and rushing her to the altar, she got hired with Carson, Burns, Sterling, and Cooper. Not long after, Scout’s firm discovered she was a damn good lawyer—but in the meantime, the world learned that Tyler was a damn good car driver and started fawning all over him. That kind of attention can mess with a young man’s thinking and moral compass.”

  Ben didn’t know how to reply; all he could was listen.

  “Anyway, instead of going to his daughter’s defense like a good father should when he finds out his little girl has been wronged, her daddy decided to remain ‘neutral.’” He put finger-quotes around the word neutral. “Scout hasn’t been back to the track since.”

  “So Scout’s ex-husband Tyler is Tyler Radcliffe, the race car driver?”

  “Biggest dick in racing, if you ask me. What kind of man divorces his wife six months after finding out she has MS?”

  MS? Like multiple sclerosis? What the fuck kind of alternate world had he stumbled into?

  “An asshole,” Ben blurted out.

  Mark looked over at him and smiled in agreement. Ben tried to keep his face from showing his shock at the news that Harper had MS. Instead, he pretended he knew as he tried to process everything he’d just learned.

  “She doesn’t like to talk about it much, but when was she diagnosed?”

  “About four years ago; as I seem to recall, a couple of months after her twenty-ninth birthday. I don’t know if Tyler thought she was going to be confined to a wheelchair and ruin his image or what, but he got caught cheating not long after the diagnosis—on purpose, if you ask me. She sure showed him when she made junior partner at her firm.” His eyes were kind as he looked at Ben. “And now she has a new young man. I hope you’re worthy of her, son.”

  “I’d like to think so, sir.”

  Although, right now, he didn’t know what to think. He was surprised, but he was also pissed. Why the fuck hadn’t she told him any of this? Why didn’t she trust him?

  “So, back to my original question. What can I do for you, Ben McCallister?”

  “Well, Mr. Dufresne, I came here planning on making a pitch to buy your vacant building near Greystone for my third mechanic shop in San Diego County. My realtor was told by your attorney that you aren’t entertaining any offers, so I wanted to meet you in person to try and convince you to sell it to me. I didn’t realize your attorney was Harper.”

  “And that changes things…” the older man added.

  “That definitely changes things,” Ben agreed.

  Mark leaned back in his chair.

  “My asshole son-in-law is buying up all the surrounding properties with the intention of building a new racetrack in San Diego. I think he believes my sale is a sure-thing, so he hasn’t bothered bidding. He’s going to be in for a surprise.” Mark’s grin was evil. “Normally I wouldn’t mind selling to you and letting you deal with him, but I like you. You’d just be wasting your time and money if you improved that property at this point. Colin is going to own everything surrounding it; you’d have a nice mechanic shop in an island of nothing. You’d eventually sell, even if it wasn’t right away. But me? I’ve got more money than I need—I might be willing to hold out just to make the prick’s life miserable.”

  “I can’t help but ask—have you always not liked him?”

  “No, no. He used to make my little girl happy. I was glad to take him into the family business and eventually sold him a majority interest in the track. He started Finch Motorsports, and—like Tyler—became a little too big for his britches. He thought morality was for other people. Unlike Scout, however, my daughter forgave him and stayed.”

  “And you think she should have left.” Ben posed it as a statement rather than a question.

  “I don’t know. I’ve always thought she was too good for him, but she loved him and he treated her well, so I never said anything. One thing’s for sure—I would’ve made damn certain she got half of everything. My granddaughter had too much pride to do that to Tyler. Her daddy acts like everything’s fine and that boy is the bee’s knees, when he should be sticking up for his daughter and treating him like something he scraped off his shoe every time the kid comes to one of his tracks.”

  Ben got the distinct impression Mark Dufresne was not only sticking up for his daughter with his impending act of rebellion, but his granddaughter as well. He liked the man immensely for that.

  Harper Jean Louise Finch, on the other hand, had a lot of explaining to do.

  “I know I’ve gone past my fifteen minutes,” Ben said, moving to edge of his seat to indicate he was about to stand. “But I’ve really enjoyed meeting you.”

  The two men stood in unison and Mark offered Ben his hand.

  “The pleasure has been all mine. We’ll have to have you and Scout for brunch at the club this Sunday. I’ll have my secretary call hers with the details after she makes the reservations. I can have her call you, too.”

  “I look forward to it, sir.”

  Ben paused in the doorway. “One more thing. Would you mind not telling Harper I was here just yet? Like I said, I didn’t realize she was your granddaughter.”

  Mark smiled from behind his desk. “Not a problem. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Ben made it out the front door, and sat in his car with the ignition off trying to make heads or tails of what he’d learned in the last thirty minutes.

  “Why the fuck hasn’t she told me?” he barked into his phone’s receiver.

  “I’m sure she has her reasons. Probably the biggest being that you’ve known each other ten days,” Luke replied calmly.

  “Twelve,” Ben corrected. “Still, we’re living together. She should have fucking told me.”

  “Why should she have told you? Does it make a difference? Are you going to move out now that you know?”

  “Of course not—don’t be a dick.”

  “Then why should she have told you?”

  “I don’t know. So I could take better care of her,” Ben said in exasperation.

  “Maybe she’s afraid you’re going to treat her differently once you find out.”

  Or leave her like her ex did.

  Fuck.

  “So what do I do? Pretend like I don’t know?”

  “That’s what I’d do. Let her tell you when she’s ready.”

  Ben sighed. “You’re right. But I don’t know if I can pretend not to know. That’s not my style.”

  “No, it’s not. But you might have to suck it up until she’s ready to tell you,” his wise, married friend said.

  “Why doesn’t she fucking trust me? I haven’t given her any reason not to.”

  “Have you given her a reason to trust you?”
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  “You mean other than loving her?”

  “Let me say it again. Twelve. Days. You jumped into this way too fast, dude.”

  “Fuck off. You’re not helping.” Ben snarled, ready to throw his phone through the window.

  “You’re right.” Luke’s tone was conciliatory. “Now isn’t the time to say I told you so.”

  “No. It’s really not,” he snapped.

  “My advice? Shut your mouth and let her come to you.”

  “Your advice sucks.”

  Luke started laughing. “Maybe, but it’s good, and it’s the smart move.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to make the smart move.”

  Luke replied with a not-so-subtly veiled warning. “Well, then, be sure to let me know if you won’t need my help moving your shit on Saturday after all.”

  Ben pinched the bridge of his nose, then roared, “Fuck!” before hitting his steering wheel with the palm of his right hand.

  Luke chuckled at his frustration. “Patience, my friend. You need to learn patience when it comes to that woman.”

  “I’ll do my best. I’m going to pick her up for lunch now. Talk to you later.”

  “Let her tell you on her own terms. Just remember—nothing has really changed.”

  He hung up the phone and tossed it into the passenger seat. Luke was right, her disease didn’t change anything. But her not telling him? That changed everything.

  Chapter Thirty

  Harper

  “Ms. Finch. Your lunch appointment is here,” Becky’s voice sing-songed over the intercom system between the two offices.

  “Send him in,” she called as she pulled a mirror from her desk drawer. She thought about adding lipstick, but knowing Ben, it would be smeared all over their faces before they even left her office, so why bother?

  He walked through her door, still dressed in his suit, his eyebrows pulled together. Even frowning, he was a sight to behold.

  “Hi, handsome. How’d it go?” she asked as she came around her desk to greet him.

  He shook his head and sat down in one of the two upholstered chairs at her desk reserved for guests, not pulling her in for an embrace.

  “It’s not going to work out. I’m going to need to find something else.”

  Harper sat down on his lap and looped her arms around his neck, making herself available to be kissed.

  “I’m sorry, baby. Anything I can do to help?”

  This was usually the point where he’d throw some sexual innuendos her way, and then he’d kiss her… or more. Although they’d have to settle for kissing, since she should at least attempt some decorum at the office. But to her surprise, he did neither.

  “No. I’ll have my agent start looking again right away.”

  “I could—”

  He interrupted her harshly. “No, Scout. I can handle it.”

  His terseness caught her off guard.

  “Oh. Um, okay. I was only trying to help.”

  He sighed and hugged her around her shoulders.

  “I know, I’m sorry. I’m just… disappointed.”

  She brushed the hair above his ear tenderly.

  “And you’re sure there’s nothing I can do?”

  He snorted a mirthless laugh. “Positive.”

  Well, if he wasn’t going to kiss her, she was going to kiss him. She leaned down and pulled his bottom lip between hers—but instead of returning the kiss, he stood up, effectively dumping her off his lap.

  “I know you don’t have a lot of time, so we should probably go grab lunch,” he said, refusing to look at her as he brushed phantom wrinkles from his pants.

  Finally he glanced at her. She was frozen at her desk, staring up at him.

  “Yeah, sure. Just let me grab my purse,” she said, attempting to mask her hurt pride.

  His shoulders slumped as his frown returned. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m being a dick. Come here.”

  She dutifully went to him, feeling relieved that he’d realized he was being a jerk and wanted to hold her.

  His strong arms came around her, and she closed her eyes while breathing in his scent—a mixture of cologne, deodorant, and his natural musk. He rested his cheek on top of her head and ran his hands up and down her spine.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked softly.

  She realized he probably was, since he’d skipped breakfast. Maybe that was why he was being so cranky.

  “Yes. Where do you want to go?”

  “This is your neck of the woods—I’ll let you decide.”

  “Come on,” she said, grabbing his hand. “I know just the place.”

  ****

  Ben

  He was acting like an asshole and needed to cut that shit out. This was not the way to get her to trust him enough to tell him about her disease. It was funny how having her in his arms made everything right with the world. As he held her, it suddenly didn’t matter that she was keeping a secret from him. She’d share it when she was ready. Luke was right—he needed to be patient.

  Except Friday night came, and she still hadn’t told him. As they unloaded boxes into her bedroom—their bedroom—his patience was wearing thin. He wanted her to trust him, dammit.

  She was hanging up the contents from his closet, which they’d brought over with a few other things from his office and some small furniture pieces she’d agreed he should bring. She’d placed five of his dress shirts on the heavy closet rod in her enormous walk-in closet, and was bending over for more, when he grabbed her hand and stopped her. Ever since his meeting with her grandfather yesterday, it had felt like he had an enormous weight sitting smack dab in the middle of his chest. He couldn’t take it anymore—he needed to talk to her.

  Ben tugged her out into the bedroom and toward the bed. “Sit down.”

  Although her expression was a mixture of confusion and concern, Harper did as he asked and sat down next to him on the bed.

  He was stoically quiet for a moment as he tried to remember the speech he’d been practicing in his head all evening.

  “What’s going on, Ben?” she asked softly.

  Time to rip the Band-Aid off.

  “So, remember when I had the meeting yesterday with the owner of the property I wanted for my third shop?”

  She nodded, her eyebrows still drawn together in confusion.

  “The man was Mark Dufresne. I was able to get a meeting with him after his attorney wouldn’t let my realtor present an offer for his Greystone property.”

  She was still for a moment, then in clipped tones, replied, “I see.”

  If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. She just quietly hopped off the bed and walked toward the door, only to spin around suddenly, anger flashing in her eyes.

  “So, is that what this has been all about? Dating me, asking me to marry you, moving in together—for a building and some land?”

  “What?” He stood up and approached her, grabbing her arm. “No! I didn’t even know you were his granddaughter until I was in his office and saw your picture on his credenza. Then the pieces fell into place.”

  “I’m assuming he explained why he won’t sell to you.”

  “It sounds like he’s not going to sell to anybody. Your father included.”

  “He said that?”

  Ben nodded. “He doesn’t like your dad very much.”

  Her mouth turned up in a melancholy smile.

  “No, ever since he cheated on my mom, he’s been looking for ways to make his life miserable.”

  “It sounded like it was more than that. I think he’s angry with your dad for not taking your side in your divorce.” He took a deep breath. “He thinks Tyler should be treated like scum for cheating on you six months after you were diagnosed with MS.”

  This time, surprise registered on her face, then all the color drained away.

  “That’s why you were acting that way yesterday,” she whispered. “In my office. You were so cold and distant. You’d just found out.”

  Oh hell no.
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  “I wasn’t upset to learn you have multiple sclerosis. I was upset that I didn’t hear it from you. You should have told me.”

  Fat tears began to roll down her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you tonight but couldn’t. I just wanted a little more time with you,” she murmured. “I know it was selfish. But I love how I feel with you, and I wanted it to last a little while longer.”

  What the fuck did she mean, she just wanted a little more time with him?

  “You’re sorry?”

  Harper grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand and wiped her nose as the tears came faster.

  “I really am. I know it was wrong to lead you on like this.” With a stutter-sob, she eked out, “Just take what’s yours and go.”

  Without a word, Ben stalked over to where she stood with her arms around herself, picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Then he marched out to the garage, where he placed a dumbfounded Harper in the cab of his truck.

  “Wh—what are you doing?” she asked when he got behind the wheel.

  He threw the truck in reverse, and stated matter-of-factly.

  “What you told me to do—taking what’s mine and leaving.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Harper

  “I’m not,” she sniffled, then repeated, “I’m not yours.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Scout. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. And frankly, it pisses me off that you think so little of me to believe that something like that would scare me away.”

  “I don’t think you understand what you’re signing up for.”

  He glanced at her as he drove. He seemed to be headed in the direction of his house.

  “So why don’t you educate me? We’ve been together every day for two weeks—what am I missing?”

  “Well, um…” She paused and tilted her head. “I don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “What am I signing up for?”

  “That’s just it—no one knows. My ten-thousand-dollar-a-month medication is doing a good job so far of halting any progression, but there’s always the possibility that I’ll stop responding to the treatment—and it can’t reverse the damage I’ve already suffered to my brain and spinal cord.”