Risky Business (6 page)

She did, but only because she didn't know whom to trust or what to believe, and she was out of her league with builders. But if Theo trusted them, and if he was one of them, whatever that meant, then that was good enough for her. “Thank you. I appreciate you all coming here on such short notice. I'd offer you coffee, but the moving van with my coffeemaker in it isn't scheduled to arrive until Saturday. I didn't realize what poor planning that was.”

Brandon pulled a thermos out of a canvas bag. “Then you're in luck, because I brought some.”

“Oh, my God, thank you. I'd kiss you for it, but I'm working on making a better second impression since, with the first one, I set myself on fire.”

They grinned. Brandon poured the lid full of coffee and handed it to her. She smiled her gratitude. If Lowell-bashing and self-deprecating humor helped her bond with Theo's friends, then she was glad she'd gone there. The mood in the room relaxed in an almost tangible way, as if someone had opened a window and let all the tension out.

“Sorry to hear about what happened last night,” Duke said. “But I'm glad you and your baby are safe. It's a good thing Theo saw you when he did.”

“Yes, it was.” She balanced the coffee and Katie as she walked to the stationary activity station she'd brought inside the night before to serve as Katie's entertainment and give Allison's arms the occasional break until the storage pod was delivered. “Even if I would've been just fine taking off my burning coat or dropping on the grass and rolling to put out the fire. Does he always have such a flare for the dramatic?”

Easing Katie into the seat, she bit her lip. That had come out sounding way too bitchy and ungrateful. Sure, making fun of herself and Lowell had worked miracles, but it probably wasn't the best plan to put down their friend. Then again, a couple of the men laughed.

She directed Katie's attention to a ladybug that lit up, then painted an innocent expression on her face as she sipped her coffee.

Duke got a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I heard you gave Theo a piece of your mind about that after he fished you back out. Good for you. There's only so much we can all do when he turns into Yosemite Sam.”

Not the response she was expecting. She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh outright at the perfection of the analogy, even if she still thought he was more like an angry bear than the red-faced Wild West Napoleon who'd faced off against Bugs Bunny.

Theo strode through the back door. “What are you doing here?”

He'd changed into a muted green thermal long-sleeve T-shirt and a dark pair of jeans. The scowl was back in place behind a thick layer of stubble. Her pulse picked up speed at the sight of him, not unlike it did when she got too close to the edge of a bridge. Adrenaline was a strange beast, and she had to wonder how long it would take before she stopped feeling flustered around him.

“Helping you out with the fire damage,” Will said. “You're welcome.”

“I didn't ask you to help me out. I'm perfectly capable of fixing this myself.”

Duke stepped forward, his arms crossed over his chest. “Stand down, Theo. This would take you weeks by yourself and cost an arm and a leg, with new floors, new drywall, a paint job, and fixing the fireplace. You don't want this on your business insurance record, and there's no need go through all that red tape bullshit or break your back for weeks, because we always help our own. You'd do the same for us, so you know it goes both ways.”

Theo mashed his lips into a straight line but said no more, as though he respected Duke too much to argue with him. After a breath and a swallow, he said, “Then we do an even exchange. I'll handle all your tool repairs for the next few months. Pick up and drop off, too.”

“You just can't let us do this for you, can you?”

“No, sir.”

Duke scrubbed a hand over his goatee, considering. “All right, then. You have yourself a deal.”

“Good. One thing, though. You don't need to fix the fireplace. It never gets used.”

Allison waved her hand to catch their attention. “I'd use it. I'd love them to fix the fireplace.”

“But you're not staying. I thought I made that clear.”

“Ouch,” someone muttered behind her.

She could spit, Theo made her so mad. Instead, she plastered on a saccharine smile, channeled the politician's wife she'd once been, and patted the wide reception desk. “Ready to get to work? How about we start by looking at this year's calendar?”

He glanced past her, to his friends' amused expressions, then to the desk. He shook his head. “No need. It looks like you've got a handle on this. You want to play like you can run this business, be my guest—at least until the new change of ownership contract comes through.”

He spun on his heel, pushing the door open.

She ground her teeth together, then blurted to the back of his head, “If you won't help me, then I'm sure Shawna will.”

Theo stopped mid-stride. A strained quiet fell over the room. With her focus on the silhouette of Theo's hard, unreadable expression, she gestured to the desk. “What time does she usually get in?”

Theo's chin dropped. His Adam's apple bobbed. The men behind her shifted, but no one had resumed their work.

“What?” she said, taking inventory of the uncomfortable looks on all the men's faces. “What did I say?”

It sucked that Theo had to be the one to break it Lowell's ex-wife that he'd been an even bigger asshole than she'd already known. He didn't want to feel sorry for her. He thought he might be saved from the task when her baby, who was sitting in a colorful baby toy contraption near the reception desk, started to whimper, as though she'd felt the mood shift in the room, too. The presence of her baby was yet another reason Allison Whitley was ill-suited for the job.

Allison picked up the baby, then the teething ring she'd dropped behind her on the seat. Boosting Katie onto one hip, she looked from solemn face to solemn face. “Somebody needs to tell me what's going on. Please.”

“Shawna quit,” Theo said.

She glanced around as though aware that Theo's explanation didn't add up with the tension in the room. “All right. I hadn't heard, but it's not the end of the world. When did that happen?”

“When Whitley was arrested.”

Shawna hadn't been a bad person, beyond knowingly having an affair with a married man. She didn't exactly go above and beyond with the job, but she was good with the phones, mostly showed up on time, and was never outwardly judgmental to Theo for his issues with reading and writing.

And yet, he'd been relieved when she'd quit because it was disgusting, thinking about her and Whitley getting it on within view of Lanette, that and the fact that, with her quitting, Theo was spared the need to fire her after he bought the business from Lowell. His relief had been so profound that he hadn't minded scrambling to find a replacement. He'd ended up hiring a college kid who'd then quit as soon as the season ended.

“What? Why? Did Lowell stop paying your wages? Because he swore to me the bills and wages were being handled by his accountant and that business here was happening as usual. You're still getting paid, I hope?”

“I am.”

Theo knew from Oscar Vintana, the marine-turned-business lawyer he'd hired to draw up the sale proposal and contract, that all of Whitley's assets had been frozen at the time of his arrest, though Cloud Nine Boat Rentals was spared because it was owned by Cloud Nine Incorporated, of which Lowell Whitley was the sole partner after he'd won it from Shorty Malone in a drunken poker game five years ago.

Theo was already managing the place at that point because Shorty had chosen to while away his older years in a half-drunken haze, and the change of ownership had been a hard pill to swallow, to say the least.

Shorty had been a veteran, as well as an old friend of Duke's, which was how Theo had come to work for him. When Theo was fresh out of the hospital, he'd come to the US for rehab on a tip from another Canadian soldier who'd been impressed with the cutting-edge research and rehab methodology offered in the area of neurological disabilities. It wasn't long before his American therapists suggested he look for a construction job working for Duke. He'd taken Theo under his wing and arranged for him to live in one of Shorty's old, broken houseboats in exchange for doing odd jobs around Cloud Nine. That was more than ten years ago.

Less than a year after Cloud Nine's ownership shifted to Whitley, Shorty died. That had been another hard pill for Theo to swallow because the two of them hadn't parted on the best of terms. Theo had been so angry at the carelessness with which Shorty handed the business—including Theo's home and livelihood—to a dirty politician who couldn't have cared less about it, that he'd confronted Shorty. That argument had been their final words to each other, which became yet another regret for Theo to pile on with the others.

One of the many reasons he'd wanted to buy Cloud Nine was as a tribute to Shorty, a way to right his wrong by remaking the company into the thriving business it'd been under Shorty's care. It'd taken years to achieve, but Theo had finally amassed enough money to buy the business outright with the help of a bank loan he'd been pre-approved for. He'd scrimped and saved to put himself in that position and had nearly made it happen.

“Okay, then if Shawna was getting paid and business was happening as usual, why would she quit? Why would Lowell's arrest matter to her?”

Behind her, Duke and his crew fidgeted uncomfortably. If he'd been in Allison's position, the pity would have made the terrible truth hurt even worse. So he kept a stony face and maintained eye contact to keep her focused on him, rather than the other men.

“The
why
doesn't matter. She quit, and now I need to hire a new receptionist, which I was waiting to do until closer to the start of the tourist season in May.”

Allison stared at him, the wheels clearly turning. Then her eyes widened into a lost, hurt look that was so raw and vulnerable and genuine that Theo drew a sharp breath and nearly let his stoic façade slip. She wrenched her gaze to the floor, blinking.

It was disgraceful how terribly Whitley had treated his wife, a fact that hadn't bothered Theo nearly as much before he'd put a face with Allison's name. Before he'd stood before her and witnessed the pain in her eyes at discovering the extent of her husband's sins. That expression of hers would haunt him for a long time to come.

Sure, she was grating and stubborn and irrational, but no woman deserved to be cheated on or abandoned on a regular basis for a mistress. Why would a man do that if he had a real, beautiful woman at home—a woman who was having his baby? It didn't add up—and it ticked Theo off that it bothered him.

He shook off the feeling. It didn't serve him to be angry at Allison's circumstances on her behalf. She may not have belonged with Lowell Whitley, but she also didn't belong here. It wasn't as though he were plotting some dastardly overthrow that would leave her in ruins. By selling Cloud Nine to him, she'd have plenty of money to tide her over until she found a job she was better suited for.

When Allison looked up again, it was with an expression of cool determination. She stood taller and hitched the baby higher on her hip. “Lowell was arrested outside a strip club. Apparently he was a regular Thursday night customer, so what you're nobly trying not to tell me doesn't come as a surprise. I might not be a genius, but I'm not stupid, either.”

If that's the way she wanted to play it, like she was unaffected by the revelation, then he was fine with going along. By the looks of it, the other guys were, too.

She wrinkled her nose in an exaggerated display of disgust. “What grosses me out the most is that I slept in that bed upstairs last night. Ugh. If I had a more successful history as an arsonist, I'd consider setting the sheets on fire, but I don't think that's my best move.”

If her intent was to cut the tension in the room and get the men to stop feeling sorry for her, then she was a success. Even Theo felt a twinge of admiration interfering with his disdain for her.

Will grinned and rested his pry bar on his shoulder. “Good call.”

She returned his smile with a warm, if grateful, smile of her own. When she shifted her attention back to Theo, she'd already turned off the lightness on her face. “I think it's time to let these guys work while we get down to business. Since it's just the two of us working here, it's even more important that you get me up to speed as quickly as possible. Starting right now. Please.”

She said it with such conviction, and she'd handled the news of Whitley's mistress with such poise that he nearly went along with her suggestion. It took reminding himself that she'd refused to sell Cloud Nine to him, despite her lack of business training and fear of water. He had to remind himself that she held the fate of his career and home in her ill-equipped hands.

Anger coiled inside him once more. She'd put him in exactly the kind of terrible position he'd meticulously structured his life to avoid. Never again, no matter what, was he going to get suckered into playing the part of hero in someone else's sob story. He concentrated on those details, brushing aside his admiration and sympathy for her.

“Like I said last night, if you want to play like you're cut out to be a business owner, then go for it. I have a lot of work to do.”

Will raised his head from where he was scraping the flooring off and frowned at him. Brandon also looked like he was about to pipe up, so Theo spun around and strode outside.

Too bad for him, Allison followed. “I am your boss. You can't talk to me that way.”

All that admiration and pity he'd felt evaporated at the word
boss
and that she was already holding that over his head. “What are you going to do, fire me?”

That shut her up. Red faced, she stared daggers at him. Her expression reminded him about the night before, the bluster she'd been full of because he'd saved her. It reminded him of the way she'd looked stripped to her underwear, in his home, wrapped in the quilt from his bed. Desire wormed its way into his consciousness. High emotion looked good on her. It added a flush to her skin, a fire to her eyes, and a quivering tension in her body that reminded him of—

Stop.

He summoned his anger again. “You can't throw it in my face that you're my boss, then expect me to teach you how to be that boss. If you're not going to sell to me, then you're on your own. You're going to sink or you're going to swim. Either way, I'm not going to save you again.”

Huffing, she threw up her arms. “Why does every damn thing in my life come back to water?”

“What?”

“Never mind. Look, I don't want you to save me. I hate that I need you. I don't want to need anybody anymore. I trusted Lowell and look where it got me. I'm sick and tired of feeling helpless, but just because I'm done with it doesn't mean I can snap my fingers and suddenly know everything necessary to running this company. If you won't help me learn, then you're interfering with my ability to save myself.”

She had him there. “Fine. You want to learn the ropes? We'll start with a tour of the rental boats.”

She rolled her eyes with flippant aplomb. “That's a cheap shot.”

Yes and no. “There's nothing more important to
our
business than the boats”—which was the God's honest truth—“so we might as well dive right in.”

“Enough with the water analogies.”

It hadn't been intentional, but now that she'd brought it up, he had to admit it was kind of funny how many English phrases referenced water. French, not so much. He wasn't a jokester by nature, but the degree to which it aggravated Allison was quite motivating, which was why he added, “No sense in wading in slowly.”

“Oh, ha-ha.” Her attempt at sarcasm was overwhelmed by the quiver in her voice.

He swept his hand toward the canal stairs in invitation. “After you.”

She looked over her shoulder at the office. “I guess Katie will be okay in her activity center without me there.”

“Duke and the guys will keep an eye on her. There's only two types of boats, so this won't take too long.” Just long enough to prove his point.

With a determined nod, she marched past him and stood at the top of the stairs. “It looks like there are four little boats and four houseboats, not counting yours.”

“Lanette.”

“Hmm?”

“My boat. Her name is Lanette.” He shocked himself with that. Sure, her name was painted on the hull, but he couldn't speak of Lanette without affection warming his words. Why would he reveal that intimate piece of himself with her?

“Did you name her?”

“Yes.”

“Is she named after someone?”

“A lover.” Another joke? What had gotten into him? He was not that man, but flustering Allison seemed to come naturally to him.

“So, Lowell brought his lover upstairs and you brought yours to your boat? What kind of hedonistic place is this? Am I going to need to take a lover to fit in around here?”

Priceless. He covered his mouth with the side of his fist lest she saw him smile as he debated whether to tell her the truth, that Lanette was named after his childhood pet. He decided against it.

“We're wasting time,” he said, affecting his grouchiest voice. “Let's get moving on this tour. I don't have all day.”

She eyeballed the stairs. “These stairs need an outer railing. This is dangerous.”

“They're safe enough. You climbed up them last night just fine.”

“I didn't have any choice to get back to solid ground.”

“Are you going to act this scared around the customers? Because that would be bad business.”

She ignored him. “Tell me the interiors of the boats are nicer than they seem from here, because what I'm seeing through the windows is depressing. Gray walls, no frills. Boring.”

“Find out for yourself.”

She squinted at the boats for another few beats, then shook her head. “These are going to need a major overhaul before the season starts.”

“Day one and you're already criticizing the way I've been doing business all these years? That's presumptuous.”

“I was meaning to criticize the way Lowell had done business, not you.”

“He was, to put it politely, a silent owner.”

“But he came here a lot over the years to stay on top of the business. He—”

A cruel and mocking choice of words, if that was the exact expression the scumbag had used with Allison. Away from the other men and their pitying looks, this time Theo allowed his internal cringe to show on his face.

“Ah,” she said. “Shawna.”

“Yeah.”

“He didn't help at all?”

“No. His accountant handled the bills and payroll, and Whitley signed off on the paperwork that required the owner's signature, but he left the rest to me, which is why the business has stayed viable. He had enough sense not to interfere since he didn't know the first thing about running a boat rental company.” He let that last part drip with subtext.

“You've made your point, a lot. Here's mine again. I'm not leaving. I'm not giving up. And I'm not selling Cloud Nine to you or anyone else. I'm not going to go bust my butt working double shifts at some low-paying job so Katie can be raised in day care. If you think I can be so easily swayed to do something that's not in my child's best interest, then you obviously don't understand the determination that comes with being a mother.”