Ellie Ashe - Miranda Vaughn 02 - Dropping the Dime (6 page)

"Bite me, Alexi."

Ana stormed off, her face decidedly less beautiful with the angry sneering expression. A moment later, her heels clomped across the hard flooring in the spacious great room, and then the door slammed shut. Alexi reached behind the fountain, bending at the waist to turn off the water. Sarah and I both rose up to better appreciate the view of his backside.

"Nice," she whispered.

"Oh, yeah," I said.

"Are you two finding everything to your liking?" Barbara asked.

"Eep!" I jumped up off the couch, startled and embarrassed that we'd been caught ogling her boss.

"Well, we like the view," Sarah said, with a grin.

"Most people do," Barbara said with a knowing smile.

We managed to extract ourselves from the sales office with only another dozen options for financing, landscaping, and commute routes filling my purse and drove out of the subdivision. Barbara had also shoved a map of the development into my hand, so I turned the Golf Ball toward the pricier section of the subdivision.

"These street names are so confusing. Why is everything named either river or valley? And why all the animal names? Badger Valley Road, Beaver Valley Road, Deer Creek Drive, Deer Tracks Lane. Gah, how you find your way out of here?" I asked, as Sarah turned the map and tried to puzzle a way out of the subdivision. I was starting to think Ana Leonidis wasn't so good at her job.

"Turn left here, I want to see the club house," she said.

We drove slowly past a row of work trucks parked along a street of half-finished houses. As we progressed down the street, the houses were less and less finished until we were looking at framed-in skeletons at the end of the block. The next block started with bare lots dotted with foundations, with pipes sticking every which way from the cement.

"There's the Greek god himself," Sarah said, pointing toward a man climbing out of a worn white truck. Alexi Leonidis strode across the bare dirt plot and yelled up at someone on the second floor of a framed house. We rolled past the construction site, Sarah glued to the passenger window.

"I wonder if he's single," she said.

"I wonder how they're going to sustain their sales growth."

She jerked around and faced me. "Yeah, we need to find you a man."

"What? Where did that come from?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You look at that perfect specimen, and all you think about is those profit and loss statements?"

"Hey, we're here for work. And after hearing about your dates, are you surprised that I'm not rushing back into the singles scene?"

She shrugged. "My experiences aren't typical."

"God, I hope not."

To say I hadn't rushed back to dating was a bit of a misstatement. I hadn't dared to dip a toe back in those waters. Between my disastrous engagement and then getting my heart bruised by Jake's disappearing act, I was fine hanging out with Aunt Marie and her obnoxious cat, Kvetch.

Well, except that Aunt Marie seemed to be hanging out more and more with Rob, and I didn't want to be a third wheel. I guess it was just me and Kvetch. Who sort of hated me.

"It's good you're coming with me to the Bishop Ranch party this weekend," Sarah said, shaking her head.

"I didn't say I was doing that."

"You were asking about Quinn," she said.

"So what? I was just curious."

"Ha! Liar. He's hot, and you're in rebound mode."

"No, I'm not. I'm way over Dylan."

"Gag. Of course, you are. I was talking about Jake Barnes."

The sound of his name sent a shiver through me, but I shook my head. "Oh, that. That never even got off the ground, so there's nothing to rebound from."

She shrugged again. "Whatever. Liar."

I glared at her, and she gave me a knowing look. She may have a point. But I wasn't conceding it.

"Hey, I heard Burton's single again. Maybe I should ask him out." I could push her buttons as well as she pushed mine.

Sarah frowned at the mention of Burton's name. "Shut up."

We drove in silence for a few minutes, both of us staring at the increasingly large homes that lined Elk Valley Lane. The lots grew a little in size, the houses sat back farther from the sidewalk, and they grew in height. And design. I stopped at a four-way stop at the corner of Elk Valley Lane and Elk Trail and looked up at a two-story house with a turret and stone-facade. Across the street was a lush green park lined with trees and rosebushes. A jogging path curved through the grass and wound past a play structure.

"We're crossing into the ritzy part of the community," Sarah said. "From here, the houses are all a million dollars or more. Much more."

She showed me the map, indicating where we were. Two parks flanked this neighborhood. We were parked in front of one. It stretched more than a mile through the development and featured soccer fields and picnic areas. On the other side of several curving streets of McMansions was an equestrian park that curved along the Bishop River. There were stables at the east end and riding trails along the water.

The fanciest houses were the ones overlooking the river, so we drove that direction, gawking at the oversized homes, each one trying to outdo the next with architectural and design elements. This one had a gazebo on the manicured lawn—the next one had a covered bridge leading to the six-car garage. The one beside that had a Japanese garden that looked like it was out of a magazine. Then a stately English manor house with a thatched roof cottage on the side, surrounded by a garden that would make Maeve Binchy very happy indeed. Then a modern masterpiece with a glass front that overlooked the sloping lawn and minimalist fountain.

"Wow."

It was all I could think to say. So much money. So little taste.

"Which of these do you think the Leonidis family lives in?" Sarah asked, peering out of the window.

"None of them. Simon doesn't live out here in the suburbs. He lives in the Garden of the Gods neighborhood in the city. He built himself the biggest house in the development. And he gave each of his children a house on the same street," I said, repeating what Kathryn had told me. Kathryn didn't just know a lot about the company's finances, she was also a font of gossipy information about the family.

Sarah let out a low whistle. "Some gift. That's the most expensive residential property in the city."

I turned the Golf Ball around in the parking lot at the equestrian center and with some difficulty, Sarah directed me to the best route out of the development.

"I can't believe I have to go back to my tiny apartment after seeing all these places," I said.

"Yeah, my little condo is looking pretty sad."

"Hello? I'm living in an apartment over my aunt's garage. I win the sad living conditions contest."

"Yeah, well, at least you're close to the bakery," she said.

"Last night, I went to take my trash out, but Aunt Marie and Rob were in the hot tub. Giggling. Very likely naked, but I didn't want to confirm that," I said. "I was trapped in my apartment with a bag of stinky garbage because I didn't want to interrupt my aunt, who raised me and is the closest thing I have to a mother, and her boyfriend. Who is my boss."

"Fine, fine, you win," she said, raising her hands in defeat. "Maybe we should concentrate on getting you an apartment, then a boyfriend."

"Yeah, priorities."

And that was infinitely more safe than wading back into the dating pool. At least, if Sarah's stories were any indication.

Little white lights twinkled in the trees and created a canopy of stars over the path from the valet parking to the large white tent. The strings swayed in the unseasonably warm breeze as Sarah and I strolled toward the sound of a country band.

I hadn't known what to expect of a ranch party, but whatever I had in mind, this wasn't it.

There were probably a hundred people mingling on a wide grassy slope in the early evening light. The sun had dipped below the mountain range, and streaks of pink and orange decorated the sky as if the Bishops' party planner had arranged for it. The planners must have also put in an order for a warm spring evening because it was still warm enough to enjoy the outdoor event without taking cover in the large white tents in the distance. Bright flowers overflowed from terra-cotta pots along the path leading guests to the celebration. It was a beautiful spring evening. Behind us, a steady stream of cars poured into the field that was being used as the valet station.

The path curved away from the parking area, then forked. To the right, a large two-story house with a wide wraparound porch was decked out in bunting and strings of white lights. A few people milled around, talking and laughing. To our left, the manicured lawn opened up. Two large white tents were set up on either side of the area. From the crowd, I guessed that one of them was the bar. The other seemed to be a buffet line that was being set up by staff in white shirts and black pants.

At the far end was a white fence and beyond that a large wooden barn. In the fading light, I could see a few horses in the field. A band was set up on a stage in front of the fence facing a large dance floor on which several children ran around in circles.

"Have you been here before?" I asked.

Sarah nodded, her sleek ponytail bobbing in the evening breeze. "Once. I came out with Rob and a client. We had lunch with Quinn at the ranch house. It sure didn't look this fancy."

"Wow. This is amazing."

"Well, thank you," Quinn said, coming up behind Sarah and me. He draped an arm over each of our shoulders and steered us toward the tents. "And now the party can start."

Sarah giggled as Quinn gave us each a familiar squeeze. He smelled of something woodsy, maybe with a hint of leather and clean soap. When I glanced up at him, I realized he was staring at me, a smile playing around his lips.

"Thanks for inviting me," I said. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you for coming," he said. "Would you like a tour?"

I nodded, but a woman shouted Quinn's name and interrupted any reply.

"Sorry, ladies, I am being summoned by my Aunt Karen. I'll find you later and make sure to give you that tour," he said.

Sarah and I made our way to the bar and ordered wine, then toward the tables set up under oak trees that were decorated with Chinese paper lanterns and more strings of lights. On the way there, the scent of steaks sizzling over hot coals wafted by, and without a word, we turned toward the buffet line.

"Miranda, there you are!"

I turned to find Aunt Marie, joining us in line. She looked adorable in a pink dress with a silver knit shawl draped over her shoulders. Behind her, Rob was chatting up a man in a broad-brimmed hat, laughing and motioning in the midst of a good tale. Seeing us, he shook hands with his friend and joined us.

"Good evening, ladies. You both look lovely," he said.

Sarah and I curtsied, mocking his compliment, but he just laughed and winked.

"When you get your plates, join us at our table over there," Aunt Marie said, motioning toward a table at the edge of the dance floor where Sheldon and his wife sat with their two kids.

A half-hour later, Sarah and I had managed to eat our weight in smoked meats and side dishes and were leaning back and groaning in our chairs. Sheldon, never much of a talker, nodded as his wife, Bea, chatted a mile a minute. I'd known them since before Teddy and Trevor came along, and this had always been their dynamic.

The crowd had grown as the sky darkened, and the band was gradually turning up the volume and the pace of the songs. A few tables were cleared away from the dance floor to give the growing crowd more room. Every once in a while, I'd catch a glimpse of Quinn, shaking hands and smiling, welcoming people to the party.

"Look who's here," Sarah said, giving me a nudge. I turned my attention from the good-looking cowboy to follow her gaze and saw Ana Leonidis standing near the bar. Her long dark curls hung loose down her back with a few tendrils framing her classic face. Her wide eyes were focused on a tall man wearing a blazer and jeans—the uniform of the night.

She was wearing a silk sheath that looked like it was sewn onto her body to accommodate her curves. It was an aquamarine color, and though I couldn't tell in the darkened crowd, I would have bet money it matched her eyes precisely. She laughed at something her companion said, licked her lips, and tossed her head a little, her curls shimmying down her back.

The number of men staring at Ana at that moment far outnumbered the ones who weren't.

"I didn't expect to see her here," I said.

"Do you think her brother came?" Sarah asked, scanning the crowd for the handsome younger Leonidis sibling.

Rob leaned forward and saw where we were staring. "Is that Ana Leonidis?"

I nodded.

"That makes sense. The families did business together," he said. "They bought the land for that subdivision from the Bishops."

Of course, they were business associates. Not far from Ana, I caught a glimpse of her brother. But when he moved into the light, I could tell it wasn't Alexi Leonidis. Clearly, this was Milo Leonidis—same dark hair, strong jaw, great build. But his hair had a sprinkling of gray at the temple, and his face was hard and tense. Behind him, another man with a thick mane of silver hair was shaking hands with party guests.

Simon Leonidis.

I'd seen enough newspaper clippings by that point to recognize him. His sons were just younger versions of him. At sixty-eight, he was still a very handsome man. Was he also defrauding his family's business? Would he steal from his own company? That would be essentially stealing from his children, as they were shareholders, too. Could they be in on the scheme?

I shook myself out of my suspicious thoughts. There was a lot we didn't know, and I shouldn't jump to conclusions, especially such bad ones. There was no evidence that the Leonidis family had done anything wrong. But that could change next weekend when Kathryn was probably going to wear a wire and meet with her boss.

Rob stood and pulled Aunt Marie out on the dance floor, where they put several younger couples to shame with their moves. I watched with my heart warm with joy. Aunt Marie had raised me since I was three years old when my mother, practically still a child herself, had run off to chase yet another man who was little more than a bundle of bad decisions in a tight T-shirt. Marie had made sure I had the stable, loving family that my teenage parents would never have been able to provide. But I'd often felt like she'd sacrificed a love life to focus on me and the bakery. Seeing her and Rob so happy thrilled me and gave me a little hope for myself.

"Mind if I join you?"

I looked up to find Quinn smiling down at me and motioned to the empty chair next to me. As he sat down, Sarah jumped up and grabbed my empty wine glass.

"I'm going to get us some more wine. Quinn, can I get you anything?"

"I wouldn't say no to a beer."

She smiled and hurried away, leaving Quinn and me alone in the middle of the huge crowd.

"This is quite a party." I didn't know what else to say, and the direct stare of his blue eyes unnerved me.

"Thank you, but my mother is the one who put everything in motion," he said. "Are you having a good time?"

"Oh, yes. The food was amazing and everything is just beautiful," I said.

He smiled and then held out a hand. "How about a dance?"

I hesitated. Dancing was never my strong suit unless I'd consumed a lot more alcohol. And even then, my moves were all in my head, not in my feet.

But Quinn took my silence for acceptance, and I found myself trailing behind him to the wide wooden floor, my hand firmly clasped in his. As he pulled me to him, the band broke into a ballad, and I found myself nestled up against Quinn's chest, slowly swaying to the romantic song.

"I'm not much of a dancer," I said, by way of an advanced apology for the damage I was about to do to his feet.

"Sure you are," he said, taking my right hand in his and spinning us around.

With Quinn leading, I almost felt like I could dance. He gave me a crooked grin. "See, you just need to dance with the right man."

A thrill zipped up my spine at his words.
Oh, boy.

"I have a toast to give for my parents, but when that's over, I'll give you that tour I promised."

I nodded. "That would be nice."

The song ended, and I was disappointed to leave his embrace and walk back to the table. Sarah gave me a mischievous smile as I sat and sipped from my refreshed wine glass.

"If you'll excuse me," Quinn said, squeezing my shoulder before he headed toward the stage.

"Whoa. You guys looked good out there," Sarah said.

"We did?"

"Like get-a-room good." She gave me a saucy wink. "This is just what you need. Quinn's great. Just what you need to get over Special Agent Awesome."

I flushed and felt guilty. Which was stupid because Jake and I were not in a relationship. We weren't even friends. We worked together, and I had some really great, but frustrating, dreams about him pretty much every night. But otherwise, we were just two people who happened to kiss a few times and got shot at together. No big deal.

To him, at least.

I watched Quinn make his way across the stage, admiring the graceful way he moved among the band members and their equipment. He gave a wink to one of the singers, a blonde wearing a worn cowboy hat that I'd never be able to pull off in a million years. She flashed him a wide smile and grabbed the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please?" Her sultry voice carried over the noise of the crowd, and all eyes turned toward the stage. "It's my pleasure to introduce my old friend and our host tonight, Quinn Bishop."

Quinn took the microphone, then leaned down and gave the petite blonde a hug. She hung on a little longer than appropriate in front of a crowd of four-hundred people, then Quinn turned back to the audience.

"Thank you all for coming tonight," he said. "We have much to celebrate. The Bishop Ranch turns one hundred years old this month…"

Applause broke out and drowned out his speech, and he smiled until it died down.

"…and over the last century, my family has strived to be the best stewards of this land as we could. We will continue to keep that vision in mind as we move into the next hundred years of ranching."

More hoots and hollers, many stamped boots.

"But on a more personal note, I want to wish my parents, Sam and Robin Bishop, a very happy forty-fifth wedding anniversary. Mom, Dad, where are you?"

A couple moved onto the dance floor from the side, and I could see how Quinn hit the genetic lottery. His father was tall and broad shouldered, his dark hair peppered with gray. Quinn's mother was beautiful, with light brown hair like her son's, and bright blue eyes. She looked up at her husband, and I could see that Quinn had also gotten her smile.

Sam Bishop spun his wife around on the dance floor as the band began playing a slow waltz.

"Thank you again, for your support and friendship over the years," Quinn said. "Now please enjoy the band, the food, the bar…"

Much more applause at that encouragement.

"…and stay as late as you'd like."

He handed the microphone back to the blonde, who began singing as more couples joined Sam and Robin Bishop on the dance floor.

I finished off my wine glass and offered to get Sarah the next round, which she eagerly agreed to. Taking both empty glasses, I walked back toward the bar, where most of the crowd mingled.

"…can you believe how good Quinn looks?"

A woman's voice from behind me caught my attention. Well, in truth, it was probably the mention of Quinn's name. Either way, I couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"Yeah, not bad for a felon," another woman said.

My face turned hot, and I fought the impulse to turn and slug the woman. They both laughed.

"Who doesn't like a bad boy?" the first woman said.

"A bad boy, sure. A drug dealer? Maybe not."

"That was a long time ago."

"Yeah, but—you know. Leopard. Spots."

They snickered again and moved away, but I was left with a sour taste in my mouth. Quinn had done his time, paid the price for his criminal activities. But I knew that meant nothing to most people. Hell, I had been found not guilty, and there were still plenty of people who still avoided me like the plague.

I ordered two cabernet sauvignons and watched the crowd while I was waiting. Ana Leonidis was holding court in a corner of the tent, three men vying for her attention. Her attention was elsewhere, though. Her eyes roving over the crowd. Something must have caught her eye because she interrupted one of her admirers with a hand on his arm then excused herself.