Footloose

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It was obvious that all the Bellagios knew that Brooke wasn’t just a ticking time bomb. She was a truckful of ticking time bombs, a caravan of trucks of ticking time bombs.

Maybe this gig down in the Florida Keys hadn’t been such a good idea after all. Amelia entered her bedroom and closed the door behind her. On the dresser, a light flashed from her cell phone. She picked it up and listened to the message.

“It’s Jack. I’m still here if you want to get together. Give me a call.”

Her heart jumped at the sound of his voice. Lillian’s description of her echoed in her head. Levelheaded, practical, sensible.

A woman who fit that description would never return Jack’s call.

Amelia counted to ten for her sanity check, then dialed his number.

CHAPTER SIX

“I’VE DECIDED THEY’RE aliens,” Amelia said to Jack as they walked the private man-made beach outside the condo where he was staying. She was ridiculously happy that he hadn’t left and she’d nearly had to tie her hands behind her back to keep from wrapping her arms around him and hugging him when he’d driven up to the estate. He probably would have looked at her as if she were the alien.

Jack laughed. “Who? The Bellagios?”

Amelia nodded. “They look human, normal, even beautiful on the outside, but on the inside they’re aliens. What am I supposed to do with Brooke Tarantino that someone else hasn’t tried?”

“I don’t know. Teach her something she hasn’t learned.”

“She’s an heiress. What have I possibly done that she hasn’t?”

“Stayed out of trouble. Lived within a budget.”

Amelia threw him a dark look. “She doesn’t appear interested in learning how to do either of those things.”

“Well, what about all that domestic stuff your mother taught you when you were growing up? Cooking, being polite, knitting.” He snapped his fingers. “I’ll tell you what you could teach Brooke that she hasn’t learned. How to keep a low profile.”

Amelia thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Knitting,” she said. “Do you really think it would be a good idea to give that woman sharp instruments?”

“Afraid the alien will come after you?” he teased.

“Or Lillian. They hate each other.”

“Really?” he asked. “Strong word.”

“Maybe not hate, but I am definitely not feeling the warmth from either of them. More like resentment from Brooke and desperation from Lillian.”

“Desperation?”

“I know,” she said. “I never would have associated that word with her, but I saw it in her eyes. I almost wish I could help, but this one is definitely beyond me.”

“You’ll figure something out. So what have you crossed off your list since the last time I saw you?”

“Nothing, really,” she admitted reluctantly. “But it seems like I often cross off several things when I’m with you.”