To Catch a Camden (6 page)

Gia watched as Derek rubbed his sculpted jawline in a gesture that conveyed discomfort. “Wow. Most of that is news to me,” he said somberly.

Most
of it, but not all of it....

Gia noted that he didn’t say which parts were
not
news to him.

Never admit to anything—
that was legal advice she’d overheard given to the Grants.

That and to put some money into a worthy cause to make themselves look better whenever ugly rumors or accusations surfaced....

“So what you’re saying is that the Bronsons took the higher ground today by
not
throwing rocks or turning the hose on me,” Derek said then, clearly making a joke to ease some of the tension.

“Kind of,” Gia answered.

He nodded as if he understood and didn’t necessarily disagree.

“I’m sorry if I got a little carried away,” she apologized, taking a deep breath and consciously toning it down because she realized that her own outrage on the Bronsons’ behalf might have made her sound heated.

“It’s okay. I wanted to hear it from the Bronsons’ perspective.”

“Oh, they get a whole lot more irate when they tell it....”

He laughed somewhat helplessly. “Better it came from you, then,” he joked.

The waiter brought their check at that moment and when he’d left, Derek said, “Well, today we made a little headway—we did the Bronsons’ yard. Next Saturday we’ll work on the inside of the house. And after that we’ll do whatever else needs to be done.”

Whatever else needs to be done
was not a specific commitment to anything. And yet Gia had the sense that today wasn’t the beginning and end of his involvement, that he honestly did intend to follow this through.

But we’ll see,
she told herself, unwilling and unable to trust him too much.

He paid the bill, refusing to allow Gia to leave even the tip, and they left the restaurant.

Darkness had fallen, and in the parking lot he bypassed his own car to walk her all the way to hers—a date-like courtesy that Gia appreciated only for the safety factor.

Or so she told herself.

“Can I ask a favor?” Derek said as they reached her car and she unlocked the door.

“You can ask....”

“I’m truly sorry for what happened to the Bronsons no matter what caused the life they’ve had and the position they’re in now. And I’ll take whatever hit they want to throw—rocks, the hose turned on me... I know that one way or another, the reality for them is that I’m a Camden and a Camden store sits in place of the hotel that—had things gone differently—they could still be benefitting from. The hotel that was their family legacy....”

He paused before he added, “But would
you
try to keep in mind that I wasn’t even a twinkle in anybody’s eye at the time this went down? That I didn’t have a single thing to do with it, and that now I’m just trying to help these people the same way you are?”

Gia didn’t immediately respond.

The parking lot was dimly lit, but they were standing near enough for her to still see his face—which seemed to get better looking the more she saw of it—and to still look into his striking blue eyes. And she openly studied it all, thinking about her ex, about his family, about how good they’d been at making themselves appear innocent when they were anything but.

And yet...

Derek was right. He hadn’t had a part in any of what had happened to the Bronsons. He couldn’t have had.

Which didn’t mean he wasn’t responsible for similar things that could be going on now. But it did mean that she couldn’t blame him for what went on in the past.

So she conceded to that much. “I’ll try to keep in mind that you didn’t have anything to do with the lousy deal the Bronsons got.”

But she wouldn’t completely trust him, either.

She couldn’t. Not for the Bronsons’ sake, and not for her own.

“Thank you,” he said. “Because not only didn’t I have anything to do with it, I feel as badly for those people as you do.”

Maybe she just wanted to believe that, but it somehow had the ring of truth to it. And the fact that he felt bad for the Bronsons, that he had what appeared to be genuine compassion and empathy for them, was more than she could say she’d ever seen from her ex or his family. So it bought him a slight concession from her.

But only a slight one.

Because feeling bad that his family did something wrong but still managed to get what it was after was not quite the same as that wrong never being done in the first place. At least as far as she was concerned.

It also wasn’t the same as openly admitting that a wrong had been committed, renouncing whoever had committed it or relinquishing all the gains that had been made because of it.

“The best we can do now is try to get them out of the position they’re in,” she concluded.

He nodded and smiled an engaging smile before he said, “And they think the sun rises and sets with you. Every time I was within earshot today, they were talking about how wonderful you are. You’re like the daughter they never had. You’re a gift from God. They don’t know what they’d do without you....” He shook his head as if in amazement at the pure number of accolades he’d overheard. “They
love
you.”

“I think of them as a gift to me, too,” she said. “It’s one of those when-a-door-closes-a-window-opens things.”

Derek nodded again, accepting that without questioning exactly what she meant.

Instead, he seemed more intent on studying her the way she’d studied him moments earlier. He seemed to appreciate the sight as much as she had, because another small smile appeared on his handsome face.

A small smile that drew her attention to his mouth. To such supple-looking lips...

And somehow she just knew he would be a good kisser. Though she had no idea why the thought crossed her mind.

Or why she was suddenly wishing—just a little—that he wouldn’t be quite as chivalrous as he was being and actually kiss her good-night to let her test her theory....

But he didn’t.

And he was true to his word—he also didn’t make any move to open her door for her, so Gia finally did it herself, knowing she needed to go home and escape any kind of kissing thoughts whatsoever.

“So next Saturday,” she said as she got in, attempting to neutralize the effect he was having on her.

He stepped up to close her door. “I’ll be there,” he assured her as she rolled down her window. “Text me a time.”

“I’ll send out a blanket reminder,” she said as she started her engine.

“And I’ll see you then. Have a nice week...” he said, stepping away from the car after a slap to the roof.

“You, too. And thanks for dinner...and your help today.”

He merely raised his chin to that and stayed where he was, watching as she backed out of the parking spot, waving as she drove off.

It was a wave that Gia returned only half-heartedly, but not because of anything to do with him.

She was just aggravated with herself.

For feeling suddenly like a week was a very, very long while to wait to see him again....

Chapter Four

“H
ey, Tommy, how’s the foot? Jeanine—I like the haircut! Mitch, I owe you a ten spot—you were right about Dallas on Sunday. Tammy, how are you doin’ today? I was told our fearless leader was in here somewhere....”

Gia was at the back of one of the Health Now greenhouses on Friday when she heard the greetings to her coworkers. It didn’t take her more than a split second to recognize Derek Camden’s voice carrying through the greenery, and another split second to recall that he’d met those particular coworkers doing the Bronsons’ yard work.

What she hadn’t been aware of was how familiar he’d become with them all. And she couldn’t help being impressed by what he noticed and remembered, and how friendly he sounded. He’d also impressed her coworkers, if their warm responses to him were any indication because they all greeted him in return as if he was their favorite person, the last of them informing him of her location and that she was planting gingko.

“Hey there!” he said when he finally found her.

“Hey there yourself,” Gia answered without masking her surprise to see him, wiping her hands on a damp cloth as she turned from her pots, seeds and soil.

She’d spent the entire week fighting constant thoughts of him, and she could have kicked herself when the very first thing that had popped into her mind when she’d woken up this morning was that there was only another twenty-four hours until she was going to see him again. But having him show up at work was just a shock.

And then an unwarranted disappointment when it occurred to her that he was probably there to make an excuse for why he
wouldn’t
be at the Bronsons’ tomorrow....

“What are you doing here? Oh, wait, careful! Don’t lean against that, you’ll get dirt on your suit,” she warned before he had the chance to answer.

He glanced down at his suit coat, which was tan but had a mauve cast to it, and brushed away the dirt he’d rubbed against before she’d stopped him.

And in that moment, Gia took in the full image of the tall, broad-shouldered man dressed for
his
work in a suit that couldn’t have been better tailored, a dress shirt that was off-white with that same mysterious mauve cast and a brown and mauve tie knotted at his throat.

She registered that he looked jaw-droppingly terrific, and then pushed that thought out of her head.

Which might not have been the best thing, because what replaced it was the sudden awareness of her own appearance.

Today was planting day—a day spent in the heat of the greenhouse. And since it required nothing other than working with soil, seeds and plants, she was dressed in worn-out sandals, jean shorts and a tank top, and her hair was a curly geyser bursting from a rubber band at the top of her head to keep it off her neck. Plus, there wasn’t any use applying makeup that would melt in the greenhouse heat, so she hadn’t.

It was not how she wanted to be seen by him, and a wave of self-consciousness struck her.

“I came to see if I could take you to lunch.”

“I can’t go anywhere with you dressed like that and me like this!” she blurted out.

He looked her up and down and grinned. “I don’t know about me, but you’re kind of adorable. You just look summery—what’s wrong with that? We’ll go someplace casual, with a patio where we can eat al fresco.”

From behind the Echinacea, Jeanine said, “Go, Gia.”

She
had
brought a shirt to put on over the tank top to go home....

But that wasn’t going to upgrade her look much.

“Come on,” Derek urged. “Get me out of this heat—I wanted to talk to you about the Bronsons.”

So he hadn’t come for her.

Gia knew it was stupid, but that disappointed her, too.

“If you can’t make it tomorrow just say it—”

“That’s not what I want to talk about—I’ll be there tomorrow. But that’s part of what I need to go over with you.”

“It’s time for lunch anyway, you might as well,” Jeanine contributed.

Gia knew that Derek had to be more and more uncomfortable in the greenhouse heat, and since he just wanted to talk about the Bronsons, why should she care what she was wearing? So she gave in. “Okay, but nothing fancy—there’s a sandwich place down the street with a few tables outside. Maybe we could just do that.”

“Nothing fancy, sandwiches are fine,” he agreed.

“I have a shirt I can put on. Let’s go out back here,” she said, leading him to a rear door and ushering him to the outdoor gardens.

“There’s more out here?”

“And more greenhouses, too,” Gia told him, pointing to the other two built around the perimeters of the outdoor garden.

“Greenhouses to grow in year-round, this garden to grow in the summer months, huh?”

“Right. We’re watching for predictions of the first frost—we’ll harvest just before that happens and then close these gardens down for winter. But right now—” She bent down and said to the pale purple flowers, “You’re beautiful, aren’t you?”

“You talk to your plants....”

“They’re living things,” she said.

“That smell like—”

“It’s thyme. We use it in antiseptic and antifungal creams, and in cough medicine. It’s good for bronchial infections. The leaves can be made into a tea, too.”

“Also good in food,” he supplied.

“Also good in food,” she confirmed.

“So you grow all this?” he asked as Gia led him along the path through the plants and into the main building.

“We do. They’re our babies, we plant them and nurse them along, then harvest and turn them over to production where some of them are ground and put into capsules or tablets, or pressed for their oils, or whatever can be done with them.”

“And this stuff works like medicine?” he asked skeptically.

“This
stuff
has been around longer than contemporary medicine. It’s what people used before there were chemicals. Sometimes the effects are more subtle or they take a little while to build up before they work, but rather than take chemicals to get rid of heartburn, give me gum or a peppermint leaf to chew, or an orange to eat, or a pill that doesn’t have anything in it but orange oil.”

“And those things work?”

“You’ll never know until you try them,” she challenged as they went into her small office. “Sometimes a spoonful of vinegar works, too.”

“So you’re anti–contemporary medicine?” he asked.

“No. But I’ll always try something natural before I’ll go the other route,” she said as she took the tailored white blouse draped on her desk chair and put it on, buttoning it over her tank top. “And there are a lot of things that work as preventatives, too. Like the gingko in the greenhouse—that’s good for the brain and the memory,” she said, pointing to her head. “I take it every day.”

He grinned again. “Is that what makes your hair so curly.”

“No, that’s genetic,” she said with a bit of a grimace.

“What? You don’t like it?”

“It kind of has a life of its own.” She wished she’d worn it some way that tamed it a little more today, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

His grin just got bigger and he reached to gently bounce his palm off the top of the geyser. “A wild life of its own—I think it’s great.”

Not sure she believed that, Gia just made a face and took her purse from her desk drawer before pointing at the door.

Blouse or no blouse, she still felt woefully underdressed at his side as she guided him to the sandwich shop she’d mentioned.

It was a place everyone from Health Now frequented, so the owner knew her by sight. After placing their orders, Gia slid the donation jar next to the cash register toward herself and said, “I might as well take this with me today, Nick. It’s the last jar I have out and I’m going to the bank later. Since we’ve started to use the money, I’ll deposit it. Thanks for letting me leave it here, though.”

“For you, anytime. My kids had better take so much care of me when I’m that age. Or maybe I’ll have to come get you.”

“I’m always right up the block,” Gia assured him as they accepted their drinks and meatball sandwiches.

Derek carried the tray with everything on it so Gia could take the gallon-size pickle jar that was three quarters full—mostly with change, but with a few dollar bills in sight, too.

They took everything out to one of the four small tables on the sidewalk in front of the shop. As they sat down, Derek said, “First the dessert shop, now the sandwich shop—do you just make friends wherever you go?”

Gia shrugged. “I’m a creature of habit. I see the same people over and over again. We talk. I get to know them and they get to know me.”

“And like you.”

She shrugged again. “Maybe. But it takes me going in over and over again. One day with you and everybody I work with seems to think you’re great.”

He laughed. “Why do you say that as if I did something wrong?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that.” She’d just been thinking about her ex-husband’s surface charm and what it had concealed and wondering if the same was true of Derek. “I’m only saying that with me it takes some time and repeat business before I get where you got with the people I work with in a single day.”

“With everyone but the Bronsons.”

Who had cause to be wary because they’d seen beneath the surface of the Camdens.

“What about tomorrow did you want to talk to me about—if you’re still coming?” Gia asked, changing the subject as they began eating.

“I wanted to let you know that I’ve hired a crew of professional plumbers and electricians to check everything out and fix whatever they might find wrong.”

“We can’t pay for that.”

“I’m paying for it. After seeing the age of that house and the shape it’s in, I thought it should be inspected—especially the wiring, since it could be a fire hazard. And I know you’re trying to get everything done in a hurry, so there will be big enough crews coming in to do just about anything that needs to be done in the one day.”

That had to cost a fortune, and while she wanted to believe it was purely an act of generosity, she couldn’t help recalling the Bronsons’ concerns about his interest in the place and getting slightly suspicious.

“You don’t want their house, right?” she asked as he took his first bite of sandwich.

He chuckled and frowned at the same time. “Why would I want their house?” he asked when he’d finished chewing.

“Your family took their hotel. Larry and Marion are a little worried that now—”

“We want their house?” he said in disbelief. “Do they just think we want to persecute them for some reason? That we’re targeting them?”

“You aren’t, are you?”

“No, of course not. There isn’t a reason in the world we would. In fact, after hearing that their house is mortgaged, the other thing I wanted out of this lunch today was to get a better idea of what their financial situation really is. Are they deeply in debt? Are they behind in their mortgage payments? How much is the mortgage as a whole...?”

Gia purposely took a bite of her sandwich so that her mouth was full and she couldn’t answer. She wanted to buy herself time to gauge what to do.

She hadn’t been forthcoming with him on this subject before out of paranoia that the Bronsons might somehow be right in worrying that there was a self-serving motivation behind the Camdens’ help.

But it just didn’t seem reasonable that they would want the Bronsons’ house for any reason. And since the Bronsons needed a lot more help than the jars of spare change like the one at her feet could provide, she decided to trust him. A little anyway. And just with some information.

So when her mouth was empty she said, “The only debt they have is on their house. But they just can’t keep up the payments anymore. They’re in arrears and the bank has notified them that if they don’t come up with the back payments, foreclosure proceedings are going to start.”

“So you decided to mow the lawn and paint the walls?” he said as if he didn’t understand her thinking.

“I decided to try to raise money for them. My fantasy was to raise enough to pay the back payments, then maybe get the house refinanced so the payments could be more what they could afford—”

“So shouldn’t every penny be going toward the back payments?”

“I waited to see how close I was coming. But unfortunately it wasn’t close enough. With what I’ve raised so far all I can do is make a dent in the back payments—unless the yard sale brings in a
lot,
and I know that isn’t likely. So I’m going with the contingency plan—”

“Which is to paint the walls and mow the lawn?” he said, still confused.

“If I can’t pay the back payments completely, then the next best thing is to pay enough to stall the foreclosure so the house can be sold—”

“Ah, I see—so you’re putting some of the money you’ve raised into getting the place in better shape in order to sell it.”

“Right. And the better shape it’s in, the better the chance of getting a higher price, which—I’m hoping—means that the Bronsons would come out with a small amount of cash.”

“Then what? If they can’t stay in their house, what happens to them?”

She told him about her plan to move them into her basement apartment.

“Really? You’d do that?”

“A couple they knew was in the same situation a few years ago. Social Services ended up involved because they were elderly and didn’t have any family. But Social Services put the wife in one nursing home and the husband in a different one—both of them not very nice places—because it was just a matter of available beds. After being married for over fifty years, those people died without ever seeing each other again. And I won’t let that happen to Larry and Marion.”

“So you’ll move them into your basement apartment and be responsible for them, and what? Charge them rent they can afford?”

“I couldn’t take money from them. I’ll just move them in—”

“And become responsible for them.”

“I’ll take care of them whether they’re next door or in my basement. It’s just that they don’t
want
to lose their house. They want to stay in it, and I can understand that, so I’m giving it the best shot I can—and who knows, maybe the yard sale
will
put us over the top. But in the meantime I have to be realistic and get the place in selling condition, too. I’m not using much of the money—all the labor and most of the materials are donated—but it has to be done....”