Fool for Love (41 page)

Finally, after four hours on the property, very late in his normal day, he’d opened his stock portfolio. He’d been watching so closely, had estimated and anticipated when to sell. But these days, more than ever, the market was unpredictable, and he’d been out of it for a good day and a half. It didn’t take long to lose a bundle. He hadn’t lost a fortune by any means, not factoring in his savings and various investments. But he
had
lost the cash he’d earmarked for the employee incentive bonuses. If he’d been paying closer attention like he usually did, he would have seen the signs, would’ve gotten that itch. He would’ve cashed out before taking a huge hit. Now …
Christ.

He couldn’t dip into his other accounts to fund the bonuses. He’d promised to help Rocky, for one. He also had Luke and the Sugar Shack to consider, not to mention his own personal ventures.
“Fuck.”

He glanced at his watch. If things had gone according to plan, Chloe was in the midst of entertaining her dad. Devlin had promised to stop by later in the evening, after her dad had left. The notion still appealed, but Devlin knew he’d be lousy company unless he reorganized his agenda for the employee meeting, which Chris had rescheduled for Friday. Even with this latest development, Devlin felt confident about boosting morale and fostering loyalty by introducing the new health-care options. Since no one knew about the incentive plan, not even his dad, it wasn’t like Devlin was taking anything away. The only disappointed party was himself. And he had no one to blame
but
himself.

He refused to dwell on the amount of money he’d lost. Instead he focused on how to make it back. It would take some time and imagination, but he’d do it.

Stretching his body and clearing his mind, he nabbed a bottled water from his office fridge and drank deeply. As a thought occurred, the part of him that was fascinated by investments and securities overshadowed the part overseeing daily operations at J.T.’s. At some point, he hoped to launch his own financial-planning firm. Something small and specialized. The rush of strategic financial planning was only exceeded by the satisfaction of seeing a client reach his financial goals. If it weren’t for having to commit so much time to the store …

Tensing again, Devlin shook off the thought and, after pulling up the site for the New York Stock Exchange, settled back in his chair. Before losing himself in the market, he opened his bottom drawer and took out the file he’d prepared for the employee meeting.

At the same time his eyes landed on the smaller file Jayce had hand-delivered to him a week ago today. The in-depth background report on Chloe. He grimaced, thinking how hurt she’d be if she ever learned about this file, remembering how he’d been so quick to assume the worst. A manipulator, a gold digger. Someone who’d come to Sugar Creek and wormed her way into his family’s life for ulterior, selfish reasons.

He opened the folder, intending to shred the contents. Instead, he read. Some sort of morbid fascination with her colorful, chaotic past. Two pages in, he came across the pictures. He hadn’t seen them before, hadn’t opened this file since Jayce had given it to him, listening to the man’s verbal report instead.

One of the photos was a professional headshot, something Devlin assumed she’d used when she’d been training as an actress, working as a model. Chloe, a little younger and blond. Striking. Another was a full-body shot, bathing suit,
bikini—
also professional. Also striking.
Sexy.
No wonder Jayce had raved about her kick-ass curves.

A surge of jealousy warped his thoughts. How many other men had drooled over this photo? What other kind of modeling had she done? He thought about her reckless abandon and history of poor judgment. The way she attracted trouble.

Then came a candid photo of her with another man, an older man. Ryan Levine or someone else? She had her arms around his neck, her head on his shoulder, and she was smiling. Friends? Lovers? Why did he care? Everyone had a sexual history.
He
had a history. She hadn’t given him a hard time about Tasha. Why was he so bothered by the thought of her with someone else?

Because it conjured memories of Janna—the only other woman he’d loved. Because it pressed hot buttons and clanged warning bells. Chloe had the power to crush his heart.

“Christ.”

He shoved the photos and report back into the folder and tried blotting it all from his mind. None of it mattered. That was then; this was now. Not to mention, nothing in that file, aside from the shoplifting charge, was scandalous. Chloe had an artistic nature, and artistic people marched to the beat of a unique drummer. So far removed from his ordinary world. Not bad. Just different.

Feeling like a stodgy jerk, Devlin turned his thoughts to the stock market. Something he understood.

Before he knew it, he’d lost himself in the financial world. When he next thought to check the time it was two hours later. “Damn.” He dialed his grandma’s landline.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Chloe.”

“I was beginning to wonder about you,” she said. “Everything okay?”

“Been troubleshooting some issues at work. How was dinner with your dad?”

She sighed. “It was … amazing. Not perfect, but really nice. He was impressed by my cooking.”

“Who wouldn’t be?”

“Are you hungry? Should I have something waiting? No trouble,” she said with a smile in her voice. “Plenty of leftovers.”

Her sweet voice flowed through his blood, igniting visions of their first meeting in Oslow’s. He couldn’t help wondering how things would’ve developed between them if he’d never asked Jayce to dig into her past. In wanting to protect his family, he’d compromised his own peace of mind. That damned report tainted his relationship with Chloe on several levels. He couldn’t decide whether to bury or address it. He realized suddenly that he needed to think things through, reassess his personal life with the same logic and calm as he’d employed with the glitch in his financial plan.

“Sounds great, but … I need to work late, Chloe.”

“Is that your way of saying you won’t be coming over?”

“I wouldn’t be good company.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I can’t fix. Just need some time.”

“I understand. Must be daunting, juggling as many business interests as you do. Maybe you’ll be able to pare down someday.”

“Maybe.” He wasn’t concerned with paring down as much as shifting his main focus from J.T.’s to his own investment firm, but that depended on his dad.

“Should I pack up some food and drive it over?”

“That’s okay, hon. I’m good. Just need to push through this thing.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Sorry to bail on our plans.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Chloe went on as if sensing his distraction. “I’ve been busy moving some of Daisy’s things into the downstairs guest room.”

So Gram wouldn’t have to worry about the stairs. “I thought we were going to attack that together tomorrow. What about your own ankle?”

“It’s not that bad. Besides, I took it slow. Stop worrying. Remember, I’m a tough cookie.”

With a soft center. Instead of obsessing on that damned report, he’d do better to remember the kindness she’d shown Daisy and the rest of his family since arriving in Sugar Creek. He smiled. “All right, cookie. So you’ll be fine on your own tonight?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I’m going to take advantage of the time alone to do some research. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy.”

Since he assumed her research had to do with the club’s recipe book, his smile broadened. Monica had bragged about how, once intrigued, Chloe poured limitless energy into a project. He knew she championed the club and their mission and appreciated her attention as the group explored a new venture. “See you tomorrow?”

“With bells on. Or something. Ooh. Maybe
nothing
.”

“Something to dream on,” he said with a smile. “Good night, Chloe.” He hung up, then, on a whim, plucked Jayce’s report from his drawer. If he took half the risks in his personal realm as he did in the financial world, he’d double his chances of enriching his life. Without a second look, he shredded the file, photos and all. “Living in the moment.”

THIRTY-NINE

Chloe woke at the break of dawn feeling as though today were the first day of her life. Or at least a new phase. A better relationship with her dad, a healthier attitude regarding life and death, a business venture with a friend, and, she hoped, a happily-ever-after with Devlin Monroe. A girl could dream and a girl could also think optimistically. All her life she’d been waiting for that “click”:
This is where I’m supposed to be. This is what I’m meant to do.
She’d never felt more secure in her choices than this moment.

Brimming with enthusiasm and joy, Chloe attacked the morning with gusto. She showered and dressed, paying special attention to her makeup and hair—understated perfection. She also agonized over her clothing, deciding on slim-cut black pants, a long-sleeved pleated floral tee, and a funky black scarf creatively looped around her neck. Since it was chilly outside, she’d top it all with her vintage leather jacket. Her goal was to appear professional but down-to-earth. Approachable. Someone who’d fit into the quaint business world of Sugar Creek.

Her dad had agreed to meet her at Gemma’s at 9:30 a.m. They’d contacted the Realtor and arranged for a tour of the defunct bakery. Chloe’s father wanted to get a look at the interior, to help her gauge the condition as well as start-up costs, in order to estimate the amount of money she’d need to borrow in order to invest equally with Daisy. Even though Daisy was willing and able to fully cover the financial end and even though she’d been willing to allow Chloe to “buy in” at a later date, Chloe was adamant about paying her own way from the get-go. Even though her dad had agreed to cosign for a loan, she had no intention of ever missing a payment. She could and would hold up her end.

Since she had time to kill, she breezed through the house, making sure everything was in order for Daisy’s return tomorrow. Then she hopped on her computer, checking e-mails, her heart pounding as she read one from Rocky saying Chloe’s dad had spent the evening raving about her cooking and bragging about some of the triumphs of her youth. And here she’d thought he’d been oblivious to her sporadic achievements. She’d half-expected an e-mail from Ryan, because it would be so like him to ruin a perfect day. Thankfully, she was spared. Of course there was the chance he’d called or texted, but since she’d lost her phone …

Another thing she meant to tackle later today: New phone. New cell service. She’d also thought about asking the Realtor about the rental situation around town. Since Chloe intended to move to Sugar Creek permanently and since she was going into business with Daisy, it might be wise to have her own home rather than living under Daisy’s roof. Chloe realized then that they needed to discuss and revisit her role as personal chauffeur and cook. Partnering to run the Moose Café, or whatever, complicated their previous arrangement.

Her brow furrowed as she contemplated the matter.
Well, damn,
and here she’d thought she’d had most everything figured out.

The phone rang, stirring her out of her musings. “Hello?”

“We’ve got a problem, kitten.”

Daisy’s urgent tone set Chloe’s nerves on edge. Assuming her friend had had a medical setback, Chloe prayed it wasn’t serious. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I thought about our venture all night long. Couldn’t help myself this morning and started the ball rolling. Called the bank, the Realtor handling Gemma’s—”

“Okay.” Chloe had done much the same. She couldn’t blame Daisy for her enthusiasm. Plus it gave her something to dwell on other than her injuries. “Is there a problem regarding the initial investment? You don’t have to cover it on your own, Daisy. I—”

“Devlin knows.”

“What?”

“He’s friends with Vernon Rusk, president of the First Fidelity Bank. Apparently, Vern was concerned that I was making a rash and risky decision with my funds, so he alerted Devlin. Why is it folks in this town can’t mind their own beeswax? Why does everyone think I’m incapable of acting responsibly?”

Chloe could’ve offered an opinion on that last question, but she was too worried about the apparent fallout. Knowing Devlin’s fierce commitment to his family’s welfare, she could fairly guess his reaction to the banker’s news. “Let me guess: Devlin called and grilled you about your potential investment and you told him about our proposed business venture.”

“He made me so danged mad, as if I don’t know how to handle my own danged savings, I rallied by pelting him with all our great ideas.”

Chloe’s stomach dropped. She could imagine Daisy giving him an enthusiastic sales pitch without backing their vision with grounded business aspects. “He’s angry.”

“He’s a conservative killjoy!”

Someone knocked on the door. Every molecule in Chloe’s now-tense body said it was Devlin. “I’ll take care of it, Daisy. Please don’t fret anymore.” She meant to calm the woman and at the same time herself. “I think he’s here. I’ll call you later.”

“Give him what for, partner!”

She disconnected with a shaky smile. Everything would be fine. She’d just sit him down and calmly explain why this was going to be a great investment for both her and Daisy. If Chloe’s dad, a longtime businessman and operator of a successful franchise, had gotten it, so would Devlin. Now that he was here, she’d even invite him along to Gemma’s so that he could be privy to specifics. A show of good faith on her part, faith that he’d trust her instincts and wouldn’t try to take control.

She opened the door, her confidence faltering after she noted the look in his expressive eyes. She’d expected anger but not … betrayal. “I can explain,” she said as he pushed inside.

“Looking forward to it.” He turned and faced her, angled his head. “It’s fascinating, actually, how you continually charm people into financing your whims.”

His words struck like a knife to the heart.

“At least I assume this risky prospect was a whim, because you couldn’t have known when you arrived in Sugar Creek that the bakery would be going out of business. According to Daisy, you two had an epiphany at almost the same
magical
moment.”