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He didn’t.
“You spent four years in the Marine Corps. Seven years with Hamlin Security,” Alex recited evenly. “You moved back to your hometown a year ago to take over your father’s locksmith business after he died. Since then, you expanded to specialized security systems designed for summer homes and luxury condos.”
Apparently Porter had done his homework.
All those things were true. But Porter had left out a six-month gap in Quinn’s employment history. “You forgot something.”
“That you got a raw deal while you worked for Hamlin? Doesn’t matter.”
Didn’t matter?
Under different circumstances, Quinn might have been flattered. Except that he couldn’t believe someone could neatly condense the last thirteen years of his life and then dismiss the single event that had ripped it apart. Especially when it had cost him his career—and his reputation.
“I have a business. And it isn’t babysitting the rich and famous.” Been there, done that. Still pulling out shrapnel.
“I need the best. That’s you.”
“What you need to do is buy your sister a rottweiler and remind her to lock the doors at night,” Quinn shot back. “It sounds to me like you’re overreacting to a threat that doesn’t exist. And even if one does, it’s in Illinois, not Wisconsin. She’s probably safer here than anywhere.”
“I’m not taking any chances when it comes to Abby’s safety.” A hint of steel sharpened the words. “I want someone with her who’s experienced in sensing potential threats.”
That was funny. Because Quinn was sensing one right now. A threat to the life he’d started to rebuild.
It was proving to be challenging enough to erase the stain of having the last name O’Halloran without people getting wind of the reason he’d returned to Mirror Lake. Quinn figured if they knew the truth, he’d have to start at square one again. If he was allowed to start at all.
From the sound of it, the only thing Abby Porter was in danger of was being smothered by an overprotective brother. Getting involved with the Porters would be a bad idea, for more reasons than Quinn could count.
“I can’t help you.”
“You mean you won’t help me.”
It boiled down to the same thing. “I can give you some names,” Quinn offered reluctantly. “Talk to some people I used to know.”
Not that he could guarantee those people would talk to him.
“You’ve heard of the White Wolf Run condominiums, right?” Alex asked. “Jeff Gaines happens to be a close friend of mine.”
“Really?” Quinn’s voice was stripped of emotion.
Apparently, Porter had not only done his homework, he’d done the extra credit. O’Halloran Security had put in a bid on that job.
A wave of frustration battered Quinn’s resolve. This was the difference between the haves and the have-nots. When you belonged to the first group, all you had to do was open your wallet to get your way.
“I can put in a good word for you,” Alex said.
The underlying message was clear. If Quinn agreed to work for him.
The confidence in Porter’s voice rankled. And brought back that pride versus the paycheck issue again. Designing a security system for the White Wolf Run condos would boost Quinn’s income enough to wipe out some of his start-up debt, install an air conditioner in the sweltering office and allow him to replace outdated equipment. It would also go a long way in securing his business’s reputation in the area.
And your own.
Quinn ignored the mocking voice that infiltrated his thoughts.
“How does your sister feel about someone invading her personal space?” He wasn’t agreeing to anything yet. Just…inquiring.
“It doesn’t matter because Abby isn’t going to know why you’re there. Or that I hired you.”
Quinn’s internal alarm system went off. “What do you mean she isn’t going to know why I’m there?”
“She can’t find out that I’m involved in this. We had a bit of a disagreement when she turned in her resignation. Abby refuses to accept any help from me. She can be a little…stubborn.”
Apparently a Porter family trait.
“What a shock,” Quinn muttered, silently adding that bit of information to what he’d learned about Alex Porter’s younger sister so far.
Impulsive. Temperamental. Stubborn—Quinn translated that as spoiled. Oh, and what was the other word Alex had used to describe her?
Fragile.
All of them added up to one thing.
Trouble.
“Abby is focused on getting the place ready for her grand opening in August,” Alex continued. “Her carpenter, Daniel Redstone, just won an all-expense-paid, two-week vacation with a professional fishing guide. You’re going to take his place.”
“How lucky for Daniel,” Quinn said dryly.
“A person makes their own luck.” Alex dismissed his comment. “You’ve helped Redstone out in the past when you were short on cash. That makes you an obvious replacement for him. No one will think twice about it. Neither will Abby. You’ll be able to keep an eye on her and in between pounding nails and painting the outhouse, you can install a security system.”
“You are…” Quinn paused. With so many issues to choose from, it was difficult to pick a winner.
“Thorough.” Alex filled in the blank.
Quinn had been leaning more toward arrogant. Or smug. But he guessed that description fit as good as any.
“Two weeks. Until Daniel comes back.” It was all Quinn was willing to spare. Other than Faye, he only employed two part-time employees. Both men were responsible and would appreciate the extra work, but Quinn didn’t want to look as if he were shirking his responsibility. People already told him that he resembled his father. The last thing Quinn wanted to do was act like him.
“Two weeks,” Alex agreed. “24/7.”
“You have got to be kidding.” There was overprotective and then there was downright paranoid.
“That’s my offer.”
“The person harassing you hasn’t bothered your sister.” Quinn raked a hand through his hair. “Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”
“I told you.” Alex’s voice was as cold as spring water now. “I’m not taking any chances when it comes to Abby’s safety.”
“You want me on-site. Round the clock. For two weeks.”
“That’s right.” And before Quinn had a chance to turn him down flat, Alex proceeded to tell him what he would pay for the inconvenience. “Do we have a deal?”
Everything inside Quinn warned him to walk away. But he couldn’t. Not if it helped O’Halloran Security succeed.
“We have a deal.”
Quinn reminded himself that he’d walked through the fire before. Only this time he had an advantage. He knew how to avoid getting burned.
Chapter One
Abby Porter didn’t realize she had company until Mulligan’s tail began to thump a welcoming beat against the ground.
Swinging her feet over the side of the chaise longue, she began a hasty search for the sandals she’d kicked off. She’d located one and was in the process of looking for its mate when Mulligan lumbered to his feet.
As the dog trained his gaze on the corner of the house, Abby ignored the shiver that sowed goose bumps up her arms.
Thank you, Alex.
Her older brother’s scare tactics were finally getting to her. All part of his plot to get her to come back to Chicago where he could keep a protective eye on her.
“Not a chance,” she muttered, tamping down her unease. If she was going to be an innkeeper, she had to get used to people coming and going.
“Who is it, Big Guy? Who’s here?”
In response, Mulligan let out a friendly woof. Which told Abby absolutely nothing. The dog’s instincts weren’t exactly an accurate barometer when it came to assessing a potential threat. A week ago, she’d had to intervene before he got up close and personal with a porcupine during their morning walk around Mirror Lake. Mulligan loved everything, from the squirrels that scolded him from the branches of the oak trees to her reliable, good-natured carpenter Daniel.
Relief swept through her, causing the goose bumps tracking her arms to subside a little, when Abby remembered that Daniel Redstone was supposed to stop by to pick up his paycheck before he left on vacation.
For some reason, he’d expected Abby to be as excited as he was when he’d won an all-expense-paid trip with one of the best professional fishing guides in the state of Wisconsin.
Abby hadn’t been excited.
The elderly handyman might have worked at a speed that hovered between slow and a dead standstill, but the final result of his effort was no less than breathtaking. If it hadn’t been for Daniel’s promise to send over a suitable replacement to fill in for him, Abby would have been tempted to offer a sizeable—but anonymous—donation to the fishing guide’s favorite charity if he agreed to cancel the trip.
That the thought had even crossed her mind told Abby that she was already showing some early symptoms of “Alex Porter Syndrome.” A disease characterized by an intense desire to control the universe.
In the end, she hadn’t had much of a choice but to agree to send Daniel off with her blessing. And consider it another surprise to add to the growing list of surprises she’d encountered since her move to Mirror Lake.
Mulligan’s low woof thinned to a whine, and Abby quickly figured out why.
The man rounding the corner of the house wasn’t Daniel Redstone.
This man was younger. Much younger. He wasn’t stoop-shouldered and thin as a fly rod, either.
Lost tourist?
Abby rejected the thought immediately.
There was nothing lost about the man. He moved with the kind of fluid, confident stride she’d always envied. The kind that said he didn’t simply know his place in the world, he’d carved it out himself. Khaki cargo pants paired with a plain cotton T-shirt accentuated the man’s lean, muscular frame but made it difficult to pinpoint what he did for a living.
Abby’s eyes narrowed. It would be just like Alex to send one of his minions to keep an eye on her even after she’d told him not to. She loved her brother to pieces but he did have a tendency to bully people to get his way.
She hadn’t expected Alex to take the news of her departure well, but she hadn’t realized how strongly he would respond to what he labeled her “defection.”
A few short months ago, his reaction would have caused her to give in, but this time it had only made her that much more determined to break out on her own. It was time. And the way things had fallen in place, it seemed that God Himself had gone before her to clear the path.
She could only pray that Alex would eventually come around and accept her decision. If Abby were honest with herself—another thing she’d been practicing lately—she had to admit that it was partly her fault that Alex didn’t have a lot of confidence in her. For a long time, she hadn’t had much confidence in herself.
The stranger spotted her and veered down the uneven brick path leading to the gazebo. As he drew closer, the ruggedly handsome features became more defined. Strands of silky, ink-black hair lay even with the five o’clock shadow darkening his angular jaw. Mirrored sunglasses—Abby had never been a fan—concealed his eyes.
“Hello.” Ignoring the second crop of goose bumps that sprouted up her arms, Abby forced a smile. She spotted her flattened sandal in the spot where Mulligan had been dozing and discreetly toed it back on. “Can I help you?”
He stopped several feet away, close enough for her to see her distorted reflection in his sunglasses. “Are you Abby Porter?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m here to help you.”
Abby blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I’m Quinn O’Halloran.”
The name meant nothing to her. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Daniel Redstone sent me.” He yanked off the glasses and Abby found herself staring into a pair of slate gray eyes. “I’m your new carpenter.”
“My new…” Abby couldn’t push the rest of the sentence past the knot in her throat. She tried again. “He didn’t mention you’d be coming over today.” Better. The squeak that had made her voice sound like a rusty screen door was barely noticeable now.
He shrugged. “According to Daniel, you’re under a tight deadline and need to keep the project moving along. I thought I’d stop by and take a look around to get a feel for things before I start.”
“I am under a deadline but—Mulligan, no!” Abby lunged for the dog, who’d finally summoned the courage to inch close enough to swipe his tongue against Quinn’s hand. She gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. We’re still working on basic etiquette.”
“You’re a golfer.”
“Golf?” At first the meaning behind his statement didn’t sink in. When it did, Abby smiled. “No, I borrowed the term because I adopted Mulligan from the animal shelter an hour before he was to be euthanized.”
“Another chance.” The pale gray eyes lit with sudden understanding.
“It seemed to fit.” Abby ruffled one of Mulligan’s floppy ears. “And I happen to think everyone deserves a second one, don’t you?”
Quinn didn’t answer. Because Abby Porter’s megawatt smile had momentarily short-circuited the hardware in his brain.
He knew her.
No, Quinn silently corrected the thought. He’d seen her before. On billboards strategically placed around the city of Chicago. Wearing black velvet and pearls. The reigning princess of Porter Hotels.
Only this princess looked different. And not only because of her smile. Honey-blond hair, caught in a casual knot at the base of her neck, accentuated delicate features dominated by a pair of eyes that were silver-green like an aspen leaf.
Instead of black velvet, she wore figure-hugging jeans, a paint-splattered T-shirt and a pair of sandals decorated with the gaudiest plastic daisies he’d ever seen.
