Chapter 20
“How’s that mill project you had me talk to ol’ Florina Betts about? Is it well underway?” Judge Stokinger asked, after discussing one of Drew’s recently finished cases.
“Not exactly. We’ve had a few more problems since I last saw you,” Scott said, wishing he’d had better things to report. He appreciated the judge getting the Historical Society lady off their case.
“Anything I can help you with? I know plenty of people on different committees. All it would take is a word from me.” Seems all these rich people loved helping others out. Made him wonder what he’d be expected to do in return.
“Thanks, though I don’t think there’s anything you can do. It has more to do with the history of the building and who owned it previously.”
The judge looked up, stroking his jaw. “I’m not sure my history is up to date on that town. Long ago it was owned by a large fabric company.”
“Well, recently it was owned by Victor Cabrini,” Drew piped in.
“Oh, well, since he’s recently deceased I’m not sure what the problem could be.”
Scott shrugged. “Seems he might have hidden something in the sub-basement. I haven’t had a chance to get down there yet, but probably next week.”
The judge looked around, most likely bored since any action he could take was gone. He seemed like a man who wanted to be needed for who he knew.
“Probably some stolen goods. Let me know what you find,” he said, patting Scott on the arm and gazing across the room. On to more important people. He’d had that impression since getting here. The few people he’d talked to weren’t interested in hanging out when they discovered he wasn’t worth millions.
“Where’d Heather get off to?” Drew asked once the judge was gone.
“Last I saw she was talking to her mother. I’m not getting anywhere near that.”
“You don’t like her mother?”
“It’s more like I’m not good enough for her daughter. Not rich enough, not successful enough, and I don’t have the right family name.”
“Heather’s not like that, is she?”
“I don’t think so.” Or he hadn’t thought that recently. Perhaps in the past he’d believed she was a rich snob moving about her wealthy world, but the last few months he’d changed his opinion. But then he hadn’t seen her in her element. For the past hour, while he’d been listening to the law talk between Drew and Judge Stokinger, he’d watched Heather work the room. She flitted from one person to the next, giving each of them her full attention. He couldn’t hear what she was saying but if it was anything like the other conversations he’d overheard tonight, she was making deals and constructing bargains. And too many of these people loved touching her back or stroking her arm. He should be the only one doing that. Possessive much, Holland?
This wasn’t where he belonged. He didn’t work on manipulations and back scratching. An honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay. Many of the people here tonight didn’t know the meaning of the word honest.
“If you can manage without me, I want to go catch up with the district attorney. There’s a big case coming up I need some info on.”
“Go ahead.” Scott waved his friend away. “I think I can be left alone for a few minutes without getting in trouble.”
“I’m not so sure about that, Holland, but I’ll do it anyway. I’ll catch you before the night’s over.”
Scott’s gaze roamed the room, narrowing in on Heather again. She was talking to an older couple, her face animated and excited. God, she was beautiful. What in hell did she see in him?
“Sugar Tush is just about to reel them in,” Clif said from behind him. He did not want to have a conversation with the man. They had nothing in common. Except Heather. That fact cooled his desire.
“Nice nickname,” he deadpanned. Could be one of the reasons Heather broke up with the guy.
“Let’s face it, man, that woman has one fine ass. And let me tell you, it is so sweet. To touch and taste. Yum.”
Scott wasn’t sure if he wanted to throat-punch the guy or puke in his face. Perhaps he could do both. Clenching his fists by his side he called on all the control he’d needed while in the military to keep from following through.
“So, you two are partners, huh? In all ways, or business only?”
Scott glanced sideways at the arrogant jerk but remained silent. He wasn’t about to discuss his intimate relationship with Heather. Unfortunately, Clif didn’t have the same compulsion.
“She can be quite the tiger in bed, man. And shit, does she have the most gorgeous tits. I could play with those all day.”
“You need to—”
“Construction, huh?” Clif interrupted as Scott was about to tell him to shut the fuck up. “Working with your hands, getting dirty. Chicks kind of dig that sometimes, don’t they? Or so I’m told.”
The rich bastard turned his back on Scott and perused the crowd. “I personally like to use my hands for better things. Like sliding it under Heather’s dress and into her tight pussy. I’d even do her sister, though she’s a bit skinny for my taste. If you haven’t gotten into her pants yet, you should try soon. You know, while she’s still in her slumming with the working class stage. She’ll be upgrading soon enough. They always do.”
“They?” Why did he even ask? He should be walking away from this piece of trash.
“The rich girls. They might dabble in the lower class for a bit of fun, but they won’t ever stay there. Look at Charlotte, flirting with the waiter. She might fuck him a few times, mostly to piss off her mother, but when she gets married, it’ll be to one of us.”
“One of us?”
Clif rolled his eyes, tipping his head. “Well, one of my kind. Someone with a name and money. Old money.”
Old money. He was doing well with his business and if this mill ever got renovated he’d be doing better, but he certainly could never compete with that kind of money.
“Great chatting with you, Heather’s business partner. Sorry, not good with names. A little parting tip, she has this freckle on her inner thigh, if you nip a tiny bit up from that, she’ll go nuts.”
Heat permeated Scott as he watched Clif amble away and slide his arm around some other scantily clad debutante. Getting tips on how to sexually please the woman he was with wasn’t why he’d come here. Or be reminded others had seen her naked and enjoyed her body.
Like the man who currently had his arms around her back in a fake hug, slipping his fingers into the side of her dress, hoping to cop a feel for those gorgeous tits Clif had talked about. Heather laughed and took a step away but continued the conversation. What happened to his warrior princess who would have slugged anyone else for doing that? Was this guy such an important contact that manhandling was allowed?
Grabbing another drink from a passing waiter, he turned to see if he could locate Drew. As much as he wanted to be with Heather, he wasn’t enjoying this side of her. The rich girl side. He downed the drink and snagged another.
Nicoletta Silva appeared next to him and he almost turned to run in the other direction. Her smug grin let him know she wasn’t coming over for a nice chat. Although she’d probably make it sound like one. She had that knack.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Scott?” Yes, pleasant and polite, as expected.
“I’m fine, thank you. The food and drink are wonderful. Congratulations. It looks like a big success.”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes drifting around the room. “Of course, we’ll see how much of a success when all the donations are tallied. If my estimation is correct, we should be able to count on two million for charity.”
Two million dollars. Holy shit. There couldn’t be more than two hundred people here. He did the math and forced a smile. Hope she wasn’t counting him in that donation.
“I’m so glad Heather was able to find something appropriate to wear for the party tonight at such short notice. Do you like her dress?”
“Absolutely.” He wouldn’t let her know what he wanted to do to Heather in that dress. Although Clif’s words kept dulling his enthusiasm. The alcohol was dulling some things too.
“Typically she might get a dress custom made for her for an event like this. Luckily one of the stores had this in her size, and it works well, even if it was a less expensive dress. The tailor-made ones run far more than two thousand and also take a longer time to create.”
“Two thousand? Dollars? For her dress?” Were his eyes bugging out of his head. Why the hell would anyone pay that much money for some stitched fabric? He took another swig.
“Yes.” Nicoletta patted his arm. “Get used to that if you plan on sticking around. Heather is acquainted with this kind of life and she expects it. She may seem more down to earth when she’s with her friend, Callie, but here is where she belongs. Look at her, she’s in her element with these people. This environment.”
“Certainly looks that way,” he mumbled, still wondering how he’d ever afford to buy her clothes like that. The answer was, he wouldn’t.
“Of course, if she had someone more in her league, she wouldn’t have to lower her standards of clothing and accessories. She does love her Jimmy Choo’s.”
“Jimmy…?”
Brushing an invisible strand of hair off her cheek, she laughed. “Her shoes. She does love her shoes.”
He loved them too, and the way they made her legs look when she had on a shorter skirt.
“Those were only five hundred because we carry them in the store and she gets a discount. Often she’ll order Manolo Blahniks or Louboutins straight from Europe and they’ll be a bit more.”
Damn, you could barely see the shoes under the long train of the dress. Were they encrusted with diamonds?
“It was lovely chatting with you, Scott. Hopefully we’ll see you around if you aren’t busy on the construction site.”
As she walked away he wanted to brush himself off and make sure he wasn’t covered in sawdust and dirt. It was how she’d made him feel. Even though he owned a large construction company that was successful, he would always be a construction worker in the eyes of everyone here. For now, he needed some air. He finished off his drink, slapped the empty glass on a table, and stalked off.
The men’s room was quiet and nicer than anything he’d ever seen. He splashed some water on his face then took a deep breath. What the fuck was he doing here? He was a blue-collar worker, an ex-military man, who worked with his hands and liked a cold beer when he watched sports on TV. This wasn’t his idea of a good time.
When he went back into the large hall with the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Waterbury, Heather stood gazing out, only a few other people milling around. The view of her gorgeous back was better than the one out the window. She’d come to mean a lot to him in the last few months. Heck, if he was being honest, the last few years as they’d been pretending to be together. But now he had to think about this.
Would she be happy with him? They seemed okay now, but what about if he wanted to get serious? Like marriage serious? He and Patrice had been going along well enough until he’d mentioned marriage. Then she’d ripped his heart out and left him bleeding all over the floor.
Would Heather do the same thing? Did he want to give her the opportunity? Watching her tonight, he’d realized she truly did belong in this world. She understood it, knew how to manipulate it. Thrived on the give and take, the back scratching and deal making. It wasn’t his world. It never would be. This type of environment would make him crazy in no time and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stomach it, even for her. Was it time to bow out gracefully? Before either one of them got hurt. Further.
As she turned around he almost lost his nerve. The smile she gave him lifted his heart, warming him all over. Until he thought of her insisting he wear suits and ties that she’d bought for him. Expensive ties that cost hundreds of dollars. Having her style his hair to her liking so he didn’t embarrass her. Demanding he accompany her to these shindigs and kowtow to the high and mighty old money folks. Until she dismissed him from her life because he didn’t fit in. That image stabbed through his lungs so much he couldn’t breathe. But if he waited it out and stayed with her, loving her more, it would be far worse.
“I saw you leave and wanted to make sure you were all right.” Her long manicured nails stroked up his arm. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a step back. Not a big one, but enough to put a little distance between them. Her smile faded.
“This place makes my skin crawl.”
Looking around, she said, “Why? What happened?”
“Nothing specific. I came out here so I wouldn’t embarrass you anymore.”
The hurt expression that crossed her face dug into his soul and he faltered. He was doing this for her too, though.
“Embarrass me? What are you talking about? I’m not embarrassed by you.”
“Maybe you should be. I’m hardly of the same quality as most of these other people.”
“Listen, Scott, I don’t give a shit what these people think. Of you or me. I brought you here because I wanted you here.”
Lifting his hand, he caressed her soft cheek. He shouldn’t since he didn’t want to let go. “That’s a great thought, princess, but let’s face it, I don’t fit in with these people. They’re all a bunch of rich snobs, and I’m only a carpenter.”
“Where is all this coming from?” The crack in her voice let him know she was getting upset.
“These people here, Heather, I’m nothing like them. They wheel and deal and backstab and manipulate. All in the name of business. As long as it’s for a good cause, it’s okay to do whatever it takes to get your way.”
“They aren’t all that bad.”
“I’ve been listening to quite a few conversations tonight.”
Glancing away, her shoulders rose and fell. Yeah, try and deny what he’d heard.
“And you introduced me as your partner.”
Her head whipped around, her eyes glowing fiercely. “What did you want me to say? ‘This is Scott Holland. He and I are having hot monkey sex in his kitchen.’ Would that have been less embarrassing?”
“So, you are embarrassed that we’re sleeping together?”
“Of course not, but it’s hardly the place to announce it to the world.” Her gaze flew around the hall, relief apparent when no one seemed to be focused on them.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Guess this is more proof I don’t belong here with all of these beautiful people.”
Tipping her head, she frowned. “I’m not like most of them.” She stared at him as if looking for an answer. He didn’t have one. “But you still think I am. Don’t you?” Her voice squeaked at the last two words.
Eyeing her expensive dress, he let his mind wander to everything he’d seen and heard tonight. “Well, aren’t you?”
“You can ask me that? Seriously?” The pain in her tone ripped him apart but this wasn’t something that would go away. She’d always be the rich little girl of a megamillionaire and he’d always be the son of a carpenter.
“Letting that guy touch your ass as you got his business card, or the other one who tried to slip his fingers into your dress, that’s all part of a normal world?”
Her lower lip trembled and she clamped her mouth together. Turning slightly away, she took a deep breath in. When it came out it shook. She took a few more breaths and he could see her trying to get her expression under control. Her profile was strong and her jaw tight then she faced him again. “I’ll stay with my sister tonight,” she whispered, “and send someone for my things in the morning.”
Damn, he wanted to pull her close and kiss her sadness away, but it would only hurt worse for both of them if their feelings grew any stronger before they realized their relationship wouldn’t work. Because it couldn’t.
“Yeah, you…send someone. Can’t break a nail doing it yourself.” Leave her with him being a bastard. It might get some of that fight back into her. He loved that part of her. Damn, loved! It shouldn’t be that far already.
As she turned to walk away, he pulled the keys out of his pocket and handed them to her. “Here, I’ll grab a cab.”
Confusion lit her face. “I don’t have anywhere to put them and I don’t have my license. Take the car and someone will pick it up later.”
“I don’t want it.” He’d had too much to drink and he didn’t want anyone coming over to remind him what a stupid thing he was doing by letting her go. He took her hand and shoved the keys into her palm, walking away as fast as he could. Not before he’d seen the sheen of moisture in her eyes.
The elevator would be too slow so he took the stairs. He might even skip the cab and walk back home. It was only about ten miles. He’d done that in full gear and a sixty-five pound pack on his back through the desert. This would be cake. It would give him time to cool down and get his emotions under control.
The image of her as he left wouldn’t be dismissed. Her face had been like stone but her expressive eyes couldn’t hide the fact she was close to tears. Come on, warrior princess, buck up. You’re stronger than that. Stronger than me. You’ll survive this. He wasn’t sure he would.
As he started down the busy street he thought about their interaction. He’d been a jerk, but better to get rid of any thoughts of being together now than later when his feelings were already in too deep. Or maybe it was already too late.
* * * *
Heather clenched her jaw and pushed back her shoulders as Scott walked away. He was walking away. From her. Damn him. Didn’t he realize how she felt about him? Of course not, because she’d never told him. Hadn’t made it apparent to anyone here tonight that they were a couple. Had been a couple. Would it have mattered? Would he still have seen her as one of the spoiled, pampered guests who manipulated others to cater to their whim?
Something wet dropped onto the hand she held at her throat. Tears, shit, she never cried. Okay, maybe when her house had blown up but certainly never over a guy. Voices at her back had her rushing into the ladies’ room and slipping into a stall. Leaning against the side, she let the pain come and the tears fall. Silently, though, because after all she was still Heather Silva and she had a reputation to uphold.
Damn Scott, he was right. She was a spoiled little princess who usually got what she wanted. And right now, she wanted him back here, telling her everything was fine and they’d make it all work. But all her Daddy’s money couldn’t buy someone’s love. She’d learned that the hard way at twelve when she’d found out her Hollywood crush was already married and couldn’t be bought to be her boyfriend.
A toilet flushed a few stalls over and she flinched. Had they heard her sniffling? Would they even now be bending over to see the bottom of her gown to surmise who was in here so they could go back out to spread some juicy gossip? Water in the sink ran then a few moments later the door sounded and a quiet greeting floated through the air. Damn, someone else had come in.
Her eyes and nose ran so she grabbed some toilet paper and tossed the keys, the damn keys to the rental car that Scott wouldn’t take, onto the back of the toilet so she could blow her nose.
“Sweetness.” Her sister’s voice drifted through the door. “Is that you?”
“Char?” She couldn’t stop the wobble in her voice. What the hell was wrong with her? Why was there this big empty hole in her chest? “Is anyone else out there?”
Charlotte moved closer to the door. “No, it’s only us. Are you all right? I saw you run in here a few minutes ago.”
Slowly easing the door open, she glanced out at her sister. Charlotte’s eyes opened wide. “You’re crying. What happened? My big sister never cries. Tell me who did this and I’ll punch their lights out.”
Heather laughed in a snorty, pathetic kind of way. It was the threat she’d always used whenever Charlotte cried. Now she took her hand and pulled.
“Let’s get you cleaned up then you can tell me what’s wrong. Where’s your purse?”
“I left it on one of the tables when I was helping Mom with something.”
“Good thing I have mine. Stand right there.” Charlotte wet a wad of toilet paper, grabbing the keys she’d left in there, and gently dabbed at the skin under her eyes. Damn, her mascara trailed right down to her chin. After some concealer and a dash of powder, her sister dragged her into the other section of the powder room where there were upholstered chairs and benches. Heather sat near the corner so her back was to the door. She didn’t need anyone coming in, seeing her looking such a mess. The tears weren’t quite done yet.
“What happened?” Charlotte sat in a chair across from her, rubbing her thumbs over Heather’s hands. “I thought I saw Scott leaving when I came out. Did something happen to Jack or Callie?”
“No.” Oh God, that would be even more awkward now than after they’d slept together in Vermont.
Her sister didn’t say anything more, simply stared at her. It was a trick their mother always used, but Heather would never tell Charlotte that she was copying their mom. She’d hate it.
After another minute of silence, she sighed. “I guess you could say Scott and I had a fight.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. But it’ll be fine, you’ll see. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you tonight. He’ll spend a little time by himself then realize he can’t live without you. Back in no time.”
Too bad she couldn’t believe that. Shaking her head, more tears rushed to her eyes. Too bad he’d spent so much time watching her. Scott had seen Walt Sorensen grope her backside. The poor guy was half-blind and was looking for his cane. Which his wife had but didn’t want him using because it didn’t look proper. Stupid woman. He’d immediately apologized to her and his face had turned beet red. Lawrence Dalton was another matter. He’d been rather blunt in what he was aiming to find when he slid his hand around her back and into the side of her dress. But the man was a distributor for their clothing line and she couldn’t afford to piss him off. And his wife was a lovely person who didn’t need reminders what a scum she’d married.
She couldn’t even imagine the other things Scott had overheard or seen. It was what happened at these events. Women mingled and men made deals. Often women made deals too. But favors were exchanged for future favors. He wasn’t wrong. Simply wrong for her.
But why did he feel so right when they were together? Why did his lips on her skin make her feel like she was free-falling? The sound of her name on his lips send chills running through her core? His presence beside her while watching TV or eating dinner give her the most content feeling she’d ever had?
“He won’t be back.” God, it hurt to admit that. “Can I stay with you tonight?”
“Of course you can, sweetness. I’ll even let you have my bed. Or we can snuggle together like we did when we were little and eat popcorn and watch ridiculous movies.”
“That’d be great.” Stupid wobbly voice. Charlotte pulled out the extra toilet paper she’d snagged earlier and handed it to her. After blowing her nose she took a few deep breaths, thankful her sister wasn’t prying too much into what happened. She deserved to know part of it.
“I think Mom got to him.”
“Damn her. I wish she’d mind her own business. Me flirting with the waiter should have taken all the pressure off you and Scott.”
“She did admit Scott was better than that, but only a tiny bit.”
“What if I say something to Dad?” Charlotte offered. “I think he actually likes Scott.”
“He does. But Char, I want a guy who’ll stand up and fight for me. Who won’t let what others think or say keep him from what he wants. I guess Scott isn’t the one.”
As Charlotte sat next to her, hugging her, her mind drifted to all their times together. Scott certainly felt like the one. The fact was he didn’t want her badly enough. Or perhaps he simply didn’t want her in any way except the physical, and that would never be enough for her. Not now.
* * * *
“What are you doing here today?”
Heather’s voice was shrill but she had hoped not to see Scott in the building. She’d spent the last few days attempting to convince herself she didn’t have strong feelings for him and she wasn’t heartbroken over his actions at the party. Failure had been imminent.
The silence was more than awkward. Scott’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he took deep breaths and tried to look anywhere but at her.
“I thought I’d check out what was here and why someone doesn’t want us to know what’s in there.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t come here Sunday or yesterday. It’s not like you were following me around any longer.” Sure, remind him of the fact he’d been chasing after her like a puppy the last few weeks.
“I have a company to run and I’ve been helping Jack with the addition for their house. I could say the same to you.”
“Yeah, well, Charlotte kept me busy Sunday.” Not that she’d tell him her sister had bugged her incessantly about trying to get back together with the gorgeous hunk while she’d cried her eyes out. “And I had a ton of clients that needed my attention and a closing that took far too long.”
Looking around the space cluttered with debris, she flicked the switch on her flashlight. “And I had to find a tool that might work to get the lock off. I couldn’t ask Jack because I figured he’d want to know what it was for and tell you.”
“That’s what you brought?” He indicated the small kitchen hammer in her other hand.
Shrugging she said, “I figured you’d have already broken in and I’d just come see what you found.”
“I can handle this,” Scott said and hefted a large cutting tool. “If you have better things to do with your time.”
“I own half this place and have as much right to be here as you. Plus, it was my house they blew up, in case you’d forgotten.”
“No, I haven’t forgotten. Fine, use this flashlight and shine it over here.” He handed her a much larger, industrial-strength flashlight to use.
The muscles in his arms and back flexed as he worked the large cutting tool. She wouldn’t think about how she’d touched those muscles as they held her and... No, mind on business. It took a few minutes and some grunting but the lock snapped. Manipulating it off, Scott then took a crowbar and shoved it under the trap door. As he pushed, Heather moved closer to see what was under the metal panel.
The cover clanged and shook when Scott dropped it open. A dark hole greeted them, and when she flashed her light inside they saw a set of stairs leading down into a darker space.
“You up for this or do you want me to check it out?” His eyes sparkled with a dare and it was almost like old times.
“You aren’t leaving me up here while you go and have all the fun.”
“Suit yourself. Ladies first.” He swept his hand still holding the crowbar in front of him, indicating the dark hole.
“I’m taking this, though,” she said, indicating the huge flashlight shining in front of her. Damn her bravado and pride. It looked terrifying and someone didn’t want them down there. All she could picture was some scary-ass clown jumping out with an ax or a chainsaw.
The stairs creaked as she pressed her feet onto them. Scott’s presence behind her was the only thing helping her keep her shit together. Everything was black as pitch with the exception of where the beam flashed. A long narrow hallway spread out in front of her and she kept putting one foot in front of the other. It ended at a half wall, the space behind even darker than before and only about four feet wide.
“Do you want a chance to lead now?” Her voice quivered and she cleared her throat. The grin on Scott’s face almost made her take back her offer. But she honestly wasn’t sure she wanted to climb over that wall and into the space by herself.
Being a good half foot taller than her, he easily hopped onto the wall then reached down for the large flashlight. Trading with him, she took the smaller one and shined it behind her and around the area. Nothing but concrete walls all around. Soon he disappeared into the hole, so she hefted herself up onto the wall behind him.
Scooting her legs around, she let them dangle over the edge as she eyed the dim space. The small room was filled with long wooden boxes. Wooden boxes that looked exactly like…
“Shit,” Scott swore, moving closer to one of them. “I was hoping this wasn’t the case.”
Dropping onto the floor, she took a tentative step toward him. “You know what those look like?”
“I’d say coffins, but I really want to be wrong about that. Could be automatic weapons.” He narrowed his eyes, one side of his mouth curling up. “Cause that would be so much better. Only one way to find out,” he said, slipping the end of the crowbar under the wooden top. Shifting his weight, he pushed down, and the wood creaked and lifted. He repeated that a few times then shoved aside the top.
Aah! She jumped back. A skeleton, totally emaciated and picked clean of any flesh, resided inside. Tiny pellets of rodent droppings littered the wooden bottom.
Moving up behind Scott, she shuddered and wrapped her arms around his waist. Right now she didn’t care if they’d broken up. It wasn’t every day you found a dead body in a building you owned.
Scott twisted, kissed her head, and then moved away to examine another one. She backed toward the half wall. As he lifted the crowbar, she said, “Do we have to? I’m gonna take a wild guess and say it’s more of the same.”
Scott cracked open the next one where another dead body rested inside. This one still had a little fabric covering part of it.
“We need to get out of here and tell the police,” Scott said kneeling down near a third box.
Good idea.
“That won’t be happening,” a low voice sounded behind her. Before she could turn, everything went dark.