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“Bro, it’s two in the morning in New York. What’s up? Decide to get a head start on the morning’s five-mile run?”
“I’m not that organized.” Really?
Wynn had his father’s tenacity and his mother’s heart. Unlike his older brothers, early on Wynn had decided he wanted to settle down and have a family. He wanted the happily ever after his parents had shared before their mother had passed away.
Maybe that’s what this call was about, Dex thought now. Maybe on the heels of Cole’s engagement news, Wynn had an announcement of his own. Absolutely made sense, given he and his photographer girlfriend, Heather Matthews, had been inseparable for over two years.
“Did you get Cole’s message?” Dex asked. “Can’t believe he’s found the woman of his dreams. She must be something else to hold his attention away from the boardroom.”
“Great news. I’m happy for him.”
“No chance of you and Heather making it a double ceremony?”
“Heather and me…We’re taking a break.”
Dex almost swerved off the road. They’d seemed smitten whenever he saw them on family get-togethers back home in Sydney. Committed. Or Wynn had been, at least.
“Actually,” Wynn went on, “it’s pretty much over. We’re still friends.”
“God, Wynn… Man, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s late afternoon in Australia but Cole’s not picking up. Any more news on Dad and his situation?”
Respecting Wynn’s feelings—his need to move the conversation along—Dex got his thoughts together and summarized.
“Well, you know that after that first incident when his vehicle was run off the road, Dad was targeted again. Gunshot missed him by inches. Thankfully his P.I. was on hand when that maniac showed up a third time.”
“He’d been visiting Uncle Talbot.”
“Guess after all these years, Dad finally wants to mend fences.”
Decades ago, Guthrie had assumed the chairmanship of Hunter’s then much smaller family business, which had comprised print media only. Although he’d been assigned a position of authority, Guthrie’s brother had felt marginalized, patronized. Eventually he’d walked out. The grudge festered into a long-standing feud.
Dex believed that break was part of the reason why, after Guthrie’s heart surgery a few years back, he had divvied up Hunter Enterprises’ now worldwide interests evenly among this generation of brothers. Wynn had been given rule over Hunter’s print sector.
As far as Dex was concerned, Wynn had drawn the short straw. Steering that side of the business through the digital revolution needed not only brains but also a steely nerve. In times such as these, profits could be made but long-standing empires could just as easily crumple.
If Wynn felt the pressure, he never complained or asked for help. Which, Dex deduced, might one day be his brother’s professional undoing.
“After that shooting, Dad’s P.I. chased the guy, right?” Wynn was saying. “Can’t believe the fool ran straight into traffic.”
“Apparently he’d had a beef with the Broadcasting News Division,” Dex said, easing onto the freeway that would see him home in five. “When he didn’t regain consciousness, that should have been the end of it.”
But the worst was yet to come. Wynn also knew that, not long after the incident outside Uncle Talbot’s, their father had been assaulted in broad daylight. Dex’s stomach muscles clutched remembering how close Guthrie and Tate had come to being shoved into that black van something like a week after the shooting incident, perhaps never to be seen or heard from again. He’d give his eyeteeth to know who and what was behind it all.
“Tate’s coming out here for a visit,” Dex told Wynn. “Dad wants him out of the way in case there’s more trouble. He wanted his wife, Eloise, to vacate Sydney, too, but in her third trimester, she’s staying put.”
“Guess she wants to be with her husband.” Dex couldn’t contain it. “You and your rose-colored glasses.”
“We might not approve of his marriage, but we should support it.”
Dex wondered if Wynn even suspected. Last Christmas Eve, when the family was all together under one roof, Dex had interrupted their dear stepmom trying to play pucker-up with a repulsed Cole. Dex’s older brother had thundered out of the room while Eloise tittered on to Dex about having a lash in her eye. Quite a piece of work.
He’d been torn for a time, as Cole must have been. No one wanted to see someone they loved be made to look like a fool. But neither did a son want to cause trouble in his father’s marriage. When these attempts had begun on their father’s life, Cole had admitted he’d suspected Eloise. Private checks had cleared her of involvement—on that score at least.
Wynn said he’d keep in touch and ended the call at the same time Dex pulled into his garage. As he exited the car and passed through the internal door leading to the kitchen, he shook his head over the torment his father had endured. Some deranged people imagined they had the right to intimidate others. Some felt compelled to hurt—financially, emotionally. Physically.
On his way through to the living room, Dex lifted his nose and frowned. Smoke? A movement outside, beyond glass sliders, caught his eye. Something on the back lawn, no more than a foot high, was glowing red. He edged over, slid open the door and moved outside.
Positioned before the palm-fringed pool, a box that resembled a crude miniature coffin stood smoldering. When a piece fell to the grass, sparks spat out. A couple hit his trouser leg but, while a chill ran up his spine, Dex didn’t move to slap them away. This message was patently clear.
Recently he’d received a threatening letter; if he didn’t pay, an unfortunate incident years back would come to light. He knew that the incident to which the letter referred involved his friend Joel and an industrial building burning down. Thankfully the building had been empty at the time. That didn’t excuse the act. Arson was a criminal offense. So too was withholding evidence.
Although Dex had mentioned the note to Cole, he hadn’t taken the threat seriously. But now he wondered. Could this somehow be connected to his father’s trouble? Was the scum involved with his father’s assassination attempts for some reason widening his net?
Either way, how could he bring Tate here now?
Four
“Can’t you please take me with you when you go?”
Shelby stopped wiping a tabletop to smile over at her friend and fellow waitress.
“It’s not so bad here,” she told Lila Sommers. “Besides, you’ll hear about your college application soon and, in no time, you’ll be way ahead of the game.” Shelby sighed. “A double degree. I can’t imagine how full of brains your head must be.”
“I’m not so bright that I can land a job with one of this town’s most eligible bachelors. Dex Hunter’s been coming here ordering cheeseburgers and fries forever.”
“I’m not sure about your interpretation of eligible. Being single doesn’t necessarily make someone the pick of the bunch.”
“Okay.” Lila began counting fingers. “Let’s move onto charismatic. Absurdly handsome. Dripping with money.”
“Which you know has nothing to do with why I took the job.”
This morning while they’d set up, Shelby had filled Lila in on the previous night, ending with how she’d made the mistake of looking at that video featuring Dex’s little brother. Until then she’d decided she wasn’t a good fit with his world. From jumping to conclusions over Bernice and that unfortunate embrace, to nearly falling in front of a vehicle, then being invited to a genuine movie script session…
Merely being in his orbit left her feeling gauche.
But, irrespective of her pedestrian style—or, as Dex had said, because of it—he wanted her to be his brother’s temporary nanny. Watching Tate play around in the surf, seeing that exuberant expression light his little face…She couldn’t help but want to give Tate the stability he deserved when he came out to visit his high-flying older brother. She also wanted to hear that gorgeous giggle again.
“You must want a batch of your own someday?” Lila asked, straightening salt and pepper shakers, pushing in chairs.
Children of her own? She’d love that more than anything. But she pointed out, “I have to find the right guy first.”
And, for the time being, she wasn’t looking.
“You never know. Dex Hunter might be that man.”
“Didn’t your mama ever tell you? It’s the charmers you need to watch out for.”
“My mom’s middle name is Man-Hater. Her advice is to stay away, period.”
“Guess she’s been burned.”
“Big-time—by my dad.”
“Oh, Lila, I’m sorry.”
“It’s between them.” Lila straightened her apron then flicked back her brunette ponytail. “Dad and I are cool. Now that he knows how much I want to do college, he says he’ll help pay my tuition.” She went to wipe the next table. “If I get in.”
Shelby thought of her own father, an anchor, a safe guiding light.
“I don’t hate men,” she said. “But I am steering clear for a while.”
“I wouldn’t have thought so the way you were looking at Dex yesterday. Nothing to be ashamed of. If a guy like him showed me that kind of interest, I’d melt like milk chocolate on a grill.”
Heat suffusing her cheeks, Shelby pushed in a final chair. “There’s work to do. Lunch rush’ll be pouring in soon.”
“Wouldn’t it be a fairy tale come true if you two fell in love, got engaged—”
Shelby snapped out her cloth. “No fairy tale happening here.” Given that she’d confided in her friend about that embarrassing predicament back home, Lila ought to know she wasn’t thinking that way. Or shouldn’t be. “I’ll work for Dex Hunter on a purely professional basis or I won’t work for him at all.”
“Great we got that all cleared up.”
At the sound of that amused, masculine voice and the sudden stunned look on Lila’s face, Shelby held her breath and slowly turned around. Dressed in jeans and a casual button-down, Dex stood before her, a teasing smile slanting his lips. He looked so laid-back, weight on one leg, shoulders angled, and yet those tawny eyes held that same intensity…the same knowledge and hunger that had left her legs feeling as wobbly as Jell-O last night when they’d parted.
None of that changed the fact she’d meant what she’d said. She wasn’t interested in romance. She wasn’t concerned about his broad, hard chest, his palpable sex appeal…that entrancing bone-melting smile.
Shelby mentally shook herself. What was he doing here anyway?
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’re perspiring.” Beads of sweat were glistening high on his brow.
“It’s a hot day.” He wound his already folded cuffs up another turn as if to prove it. “I just dropped by to say there’s been a change of plans.”
“Tate’s not coming?”
Mother hen Lila stepped in. “You do realize she’s resigned. The boss kicked the wall and said she could leave now except he’d be short for the lunch rush.”
“Tate’s still coming out,” Dex assured them both. “In fact, he’ll be here late tomorrow.”
“Last night you said a week.”
Dex folded into a chair. “I phoned Sydney this morning to…arrange some things. Cole, the brother stationed in Australia, is set to leave on a sabbatical. He wanted Tate’s trip signed and sealed before he left. My father agreed.”
“Suddenly you don’t look so happy about it.”
“I had some other news last night,” Dex explained as Lila laid a coffee before him then hung around to wipe an already sparkling table. “I need other accommodations until a minor problem’s sorted at my place.”
“Problem as in plumbing or a hole in the roof?”
“More like rodents in the basement.” His pensive gaze flicked up from his steaming cup. “I’ve organized a suite in town. I’d like you to help me get the place organized.”
One minute she was a waitress, next she was being whisked away to a hotel by a multimillionaire. She had to catch her breath. Shelby slid into the seat beside him.
Behind them, her boss’s unhappy voice ground out.
“Those chairs are for patrons only.”
Shelby jumped up. Mr. Connor’s usually nonexistent jaw was jutting. On either side of a bulbous nose, his small dark eyes narrowed. He addressed his remarks to Dex.
“She’s here to serve tables. You’re a good customer, but I have a business to run.”
Dex got to his feet. “Shelby was taking my order.”
Connor exhaled as if he’d heard it all before. “Look, we don’t run that kind of establishment. If you want to—you know—chat, there are other places for that.”
Shelby’s temper flared. Did Connor call her what she thought he’d just called her? She stuck out her own chin.
“Now wait a minute—”
Dex held up a hand. “Let me handle this.” He addressed Connor. “Obviously that isn’t the kind of discussion I’m having with Ms. Scott.”
“It looked pretty cozy to me,” Connor replied. “Particularly after your nice long talk yesterday.” He eyed Shelby. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
“I’ve offered Shelby employment,” Dex said. “I believe she passed on her resignation to you this morning.”
“So it was you.” Connor narrowed his gaze again. “Sure. She resigned, but I still have her till the end of the week.”
“I was hoping,” Dex continued, “that you might consider releasing her earlier than that.”
“Like when?”
“Like now.” Connor shrugged. “Like I said, I have a business to run.”
Dex drew out his wallet. “I’m sure we can come to some arrangement—”
“I don’t want your money.”
Dex scratched his temple. “We need to settle this somehow…” He peeled off a few big bills.
Connor sniffed, then put out his palm. “Fine. But I’ll warn you. She’s not worth it.”
While Dex’s expression darkened, Shelby shrank back. She might want to deck Connor, but she suspected Dex just might do it. But then a crooked smile eased up one corner of Dex’s mouth and he stuffed the notes down the front of Mr. Connor’s Hawaiian-print shirt.
“That amount should cover any inconvenience or losses to your establishment. Now, I’m sure we’d all prefer that this parting be amicable.” His voice dropped and hardened. “Doesn’t have to be.” He peeled off another couple bills and offered them to Lila. “Thanks for the impeccable service in the past. I’ve enjoyed the food, even if your boss is a jerk.”
He asked Shelby to get her handbag. It took her ten seconds. When she was back, he grabbed her hand. She kept up as he headed out of the shop and down the busy sidewalk.
“Connor’s face was blotched, he was so mad,” she said.
