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His sister frowned. “If you were really the best, you’d make my hand better right now.”
“Only time can do that,” he said gently.
“Speaking of time and healing, I just thought of someone else for the dating list—”
“Stop. I’ve barely unpacked.”
“Oh, pooh,” she scoffed. “It’s been a couple weeks. You have a duty to date someone.”
Now he was getting frustrated. “Right back at you, sis. Who are you going out with? Do I know the guy?”
“I’m taking a break from men.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
There was a story. Ben saw it in her eyes, but wouldn’t push. If he set a good example, maybe she’d back off, too. “Okay. So you understand where I’m coming from.”
“Not really. You’ve had a very long break,” she started.
He barely held back a groan. She was like a bulldog with a favorite bone. How long would it take before she decided to let this go? He wasn’t opposed to dating, just wanted to do it in his own time, his own way.
He would go out when he met someone who intrigued him as much as Camille Halliday.
With a four-inch heel in each hand, Cam walked out of the bedroom into her suite’s sitting area. All the bigger, more expensive lodge rooms were on the top floor and she liked living here a lot. It was big, a convenient distance to work and the mattress was soft and comfy. Love seats covered in earth-tone stripes faced each other in front of the fireplace. There was a small kitchen and a cherrywood table in the dining area.
She stopped in front of the mirror over a small table in the entryway for a last check on her appearance before starting the day.
“Hair?” She nodded with satisfaction. “Check.”
Something about the water here in Montana brought out the best in her shoulder-length layered style.
“Makeup? Check.” It was flawless. She had the money to buy good skin care products and cosmetics and had paid big bucks for a professional makeup artist to teach her the techniques for perfect application.
“Clothes? Dressed for success.” She loved this lavender suit with the pencil skirt and fitted matching jacket. The heels matched perfectly.
“It’s Tuesday,” she reminded herself. “Maybe today I’ll get staff cooperation. And maybe I’ll flap my arms and fly to the moon.”
All those power of positive thinking seminars had been a waste of time for this exile in Blackwater Lake. So far the information and methods hadn’t achieved any measurable real-life results.
She was about to slip her heels on when shouting in the hallway shattered the silence in her room. “It’s too early for this,” she groaned. “Rocky and Apollo Creed couldn’t make it just one day without going a couple of rounds?”
Cam opened her door and hurried into the carpeted hall barefoot. Patty Evans and Crystal Ames, a housekeeping team on the staff, stood two inches apart, shouting into each other’s faces. They were in their early thirties and about the same height, which made them quite a bit taller than Cam, but she couldn’t spare the time for her shoes.
She tried to get between them, but they pretty much ignored her. “Ladies, this is unprofessional.”
“Stop flirting with him.” Patty’s hair curved under in a brown bob. She wore the black pants and gray, fitted smock shirt that was the department uniform.
A honey blonde, Crystal had her hair held back with a big clip. “I wasn’t flirting. Just being friendly. You’re paranoid.” She waved her index finger in the other woman’s direction. “And you need your head examined.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my head,” Patty retorted. “I know what I saw. You always want what’s mine.”
“You’re imagining things.” Crystal moved even closer.
Patty lifted her chin defensively. “Stay away from Scooter.”
Someone named Scooter was worth coming to blows? Cam had to break this up. The most expensive lodge rooms were nearby. Unprofessional behavior like this was inappropriate anywhere, but especially here. Social media being what it was, negative information could go viral on the internet and she had enough problems without that.
“Ladies—” She put a hand on each of their shoulders and used gentle pressure to move them back an inch or two. “That will be enough.”
Patty’s blue eyes blazed. “It’s not nearly enough. Not until she backs off my boyfriend.”
“How many times do I have to say this? I’m not coming on to him.” Crystal jammed her hands on her hips. “You’ve got quite an imagination. Get over it.”
“Stop it.” Cam raised her voice which she hated to do, but a sharp slap to snap them out of it wasn’t an option. “This is unacceptable—”
A door opened behind them. “Hi.”
Cam held in a groan. It was only one word, but she knew that deep voice. Before she could turn and respond, the two housekeepers relaxed their combative body language.
“Hey, Ben.” Patty smiled. “I heard you were back in town and staying here.”
“It’s been a while.” Ben was wearing surgical scrub pants with a long-sleeved white shirt beneath the matching shapeless blue top. “How are you, Patty? Crystal?”
The blonde flashed him a flirty smile. “Fine. How’ve you been?”
“Good. It’s great to be back.”
“We should get together for a drink and catch up.”
He nodded. “After work some time.”
“Sounds good.” Patty looked at her partner. “Speaking of that, we’ve got to get busy.”
“Right. Catch you later, Ben.”
“Have a good one.” He returned their wave before the two women moved down the hall to where the housekeeping cart was pushed against the wall.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Cam said.
“I actually didn’t see anything. Hearing is a different story.” He leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb that was right next to hers. “Are you still in trouble?”
“Tip of the iceberg. Those two are on a very long list of employees who do their own thing.”
“So, that’s a yes to trouble?” His dark eyes sparkled with humor, no doubt the memory of the other night on the deck.
“It is,” she admitted.
“Are you going to kick something?” When he looked down at her bare feet, his gaze turned decidedly, intensely sexy and suggestive.
“No. It was a lesson. I’ll use my words. Right after I get my shoes.” Every time she saw him it felt like a power struggle and she didn’t like feeling at a disadvantage. She also didn’t like the little shimmy in her heart when his eyes went all hot and smoldery. That couldn’t be good. “I have to get to work.”
“Don’t let me keep you.”
She nodded, then looked up. “And Ben?”
“Hm?”
“I’d consider it a personal favor if you forgot about the little disagreement. I really am sorry you had to see that and I intend to talk to them.” For the umpteenth time. If only she could promise him it wouldn’t happen again.
Ben glanced down the empty hall where the two women had been. “I take it Patty and Crystal don’t get along?”
There was no point in denying what he’d just witnessed for himself. “I referee practically on a daily basis.” Then his words sank in. “You know their names.”
“We went to high school together.”
“I see.” Small-town life, she reminded herself. “They’re good at their jobs. When not arguing.”
“Those two haven’t gotten along since Crystal stole Patty’s boyfriend before prom and she missed the highlight of high school.”
Cam wouldn’t know. Her teen years had been erratic and traditional school wasn’t in her frame of reference. “That’s good information.”
“I’ve noticed that housekeepers here at the lodge work in teams.”
“It’s efficient.”
He nodded. “I know what you said about personnel turnover and the cost of training. Obviously you feel it’s important to retain those two. So it might be a good idea to split them up.”
“It crossed my mind, but I’ve been working in—what did you call it? Triage? Dealing with the most important things first. Operating in crisis mode.”
The longer Cam stood looking up at him, the more she noticed how handsome he was. How easy he was to talk to. How good he smelled. How safe he made her feel.
That was something she hadn’t felt since losing her big brother when he was only nineteen. Since then men had come on to her, using her to get their name in the paper. Famous by association. But there was something trustworthy about Ben.
He folded his arms over his chest. “You should be used to crisis mode.”
His voice was pleasant and teasing, but her stomach dropped at the words. It had been too much to hope for. “Why?”
“Your tabloid history is pretty colorful.”
“So you know about that.”
“I Googled you.”
“That’s a lot of information to wade through.” Disappointment sat like a stone in her gut.
“Not so much after you went to jail.”
It was hard, but she managed not to wince. She would never be able to erase her infamous past and the lies that were part of it. She knew the truth and could set the record straight, but she couldn’t make him believe it.
“Being in a cell, even segregated from the general population, was more scary than I can tell you. I was grateful for early release and determined not to go back. Ever. I returned to college.”
“Coincidentally, that was about the time all the stories dried up.”
“Photographers still stalked me, waiting for a screwup to document and sell papers. But I was more determined to get an education and have a career. Accomplish something. Do more than be famous for being famous.”
“Good for you.”
Right. The words sounded supportive, but she knew better. Everyone wanted something.
“I really have to get to work,” she said.
“Me, too.” He straightened and looked down at her. “I’d like to see you later.”
“That’s not a good idea.” the door to her suite was right next to his and she headed for it now. Over her shoulder she said, “Have a wonderful day.”
In her room she leaned against the closed door and dragged in air. Since college the nice guys had shunned her. Classes, studying and getting exemplary grades were all she had. The loneliness and isolation hurt deeply, but she’d learned valuable lessons. She needed a solid, successful career because that would be all she had, all she could count on.
It was time to focus on that career. Making Blackwater Lake Lodge into a lucrative property in the family hotel chain was her ticket out of this town. It would get her away from the handsome, sexy doctor who was nothing more than another nice guy who wouldn’t want to bring her home to meet his family.
Chapter Three
Ben McKnight had never pictured himself as a Chamber of Commerce sort of guy, but here he was at the monthly Blackwater Lake meeting. He’d been interested in hearing Mayor Loretta Goodson’s plans for growing the community, expanding Mercy Medical Clinic and eventually building a hospital here in town. Being in on that project from the beginning was one of the reasons he’d come back. Blending the best and newest medicine with a small-town, hands-on approach was exciting and rewarding.
Apparently he wasn’t the only one interested in longterm planning. It was a standing-room-only crowd in the council chamber here at City Hall.
“I think we’ve thoroughly covered all the information about the architect hired to draw up the plans for the Mercy Medical Clinic expansion. The town council and I liked the work she showed us, but she also has the lowest fee. McKnight Construction will be doing the building. Is there any further business or questions?” The mayor, an attractive woman who looked thirty but was probably ten years older, glanced around the room. Her shoulder-length, layered brown hair caught the overhead light as she turned her head. She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her gray eyes. “All right, seeing no raised hands, that concludes the meeting. There are refreshments in the back. Thank you for coming, everyone.”
Almost instantly chair legs scraped and talking commenced as people stood and filed out of the room or to the table filled with coffee and dessert.
Ben had been at the clinic late setting a patient’s broken arm and barely made it to the meeting. With no time to eat, he was starving. After grabbing a couple cookies and a brownie, he looked around. Against the wall he noticed Cabot Dixon, an old high school friend, talking to the pretty redhead who owned the marina store on the lake and was engaged to Adam Stone, the family-practice doctor at the clinic. He moved toward them and Cabot grinned.
“I heard you were back in town, Ben.”
“Good to see you, Cab.” He set his coffee on the seat of a chair and shook the other man’s hand.
“Do you know Jill Beck?”
“I do. How’s that little guy of yours?” Ben had met them at the clinic when they visited Adam at work.
“C.J. is great.” Her blue eyes glowed with pride and pleasure. “Adam is keeping an eye on him tonight. Tyler’s there, too.”
“How old is that boy of yours, Cab?”
“Seven. Can’t believe it. I remember when he was hardly bigger than my hand and I was trying to figure out which end to put the diaper on and which one to feed.”
“You’ve done a great job,” Jill said, “because he’s healthy and happy.”
