Trouble In Spades (2 page)

The closing of a car door echoed through the backyard. A second later Kit Pipe, my head landscaping contractor, swaggered into sight.

At six-foot-five and 250 pounds of sheer muscle, it was hard for him to do anything but swagger. "Yo."

I shaded my eyes against the sun. As the crow's-feet spreading out of the corners of my eyes could tell you, I'd never gotten used to wearing sunglasses.

"You're chipper today." Usually, he didn't say
anything
by way of greeting.

"Daisy's finally gonna let me get a dog."

"No kidding?"

He grinned. Even white teeth gleamed against his bronze skin. His eyes had been tattooed with black ink since before I'd met him five years ago, but it was hardly noticeable as his blue eyes sparkled with happiness. "What kind?" I asked.

"Not sure yet."

Knowing Kit, he was undoubtedly going to get one of those big scary dogs that sent fear into landscapers' hearts across the globe.

"Maybe," I suggested, "you should get one of those cute little dogs. One she can carry around with her and dress in sweaters. Women love those kinds of dogs—not big slobbery ones that drool."

He looked doubtful. "You think?"

"Absolutely." Landscapers everywhere would thank me for ridding them of a scary would-be pet.

"Hmm. I'll let it simmer."

The sun beat down on the patio, adding a good ten degrees to the already eighty-eight degree temperature. A covered porch was an aspect of my design plans for Maria, and part of me (the hot, sweaty part) wished I'd done that first. Kit, with furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips, looked like he was in deep doggy contemplation. I supposed I would be too, if I were him. He'd waited a long time for Daisy to give in. "What'd you have to do to convince her, anyway?" I asked.

He winked at me. "You sure you want to know?"

Shaking my head, I fought back a blush. I didn't want to think about anything of that nature at all. My hormones were all up in arms, squawking to their little hearts' content. I'd been separated from my husband Kevin for a little over a month now, and you'd think I'd never been celibate before. Kit looked around the backyard. "This yard is gonna be a beast."

"I know."

"Everyone on board?"

"As far as I know."

The finalization meeting had taken place nearly a week ago at my office. I'd contracted out the carpentry, masonry, excavating, and irrigation work. This area of southwest Ohio was notoriously dry during the summer, and to upkeep a Japanese theme, sprinklers were necessary. The sound of a car door closing carried back to us. The neighbors were going to be thrilled when we started work, thanks to the isolated road that served as an echo chamber. "That's probably Maria. You've never met her, have you?" I asked Kit.

He removed his hat, wiped the skull tattoo on his bald head with the palm of his hand. "Nope."

"Nina?" Maria called out.

"Get ready—you're in for a treat," I said to Kit, barely able to hold in a grin. I yelled to Maria, "Back here!" Maria came around the corner of the house, her Chanel suit coat slung over her shoulder.

"Holy Moses," Kit mumbled under his breath.

"Think about Daisy," I ordered as I stood up, wiped dust from my rear.

"Daisy?" he said.

I rolled my eyes. "At least wipe the drool away. It doesn't make a good first impression."

Maria's blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight. It hung just below her shoulders, cut just so and colored to perfection. Not that she wasn't a natural blonde—she was. She just liked it a touch lighter than her natural shade. My mother could often be heard bragging that Maria looked like Grace Kelly. The resemblance was definitely there, lurking underneath Maria's high maintenance. I hadn't seen her without mascara and lipstick since she was thirteen.

That regal, graceful look had probably helped her land a high-paying job as an event planner at Phineus Frye, the most prestigious PR company in the city.

If we weren't family, I think I'd have to hate her.

We were polar opposites, the two of us, especially lookswise.
My
looks came straight from my dad, who looked like a balding bulldog. I'd inherited his dark hair, dark complexion, and muddy green eyes.

The big blue eyes Maria had inherited from our mother blinked as she took in Kit's gigantic form, and her hand fluttered to her ample chest—also something she'd inherited from our mother.

I'd inherited my Nana Cerceri's figure. Think ironing board.

Unfortunately for Maria,
she
inherited Nana Ceceri's hair-trigger temper, which she'd worked hard through the years to control—not an easy thing, considering how spoiled she was and completely used to getting her way. "Well, hello," she said to Kit, her long eyelashes fluttering.

"This is Kit Pipe," I told her, "my head landscaping contractor and good friend."

Kit was practically panting. Maria had always had that effect on men.

"Pleasure," she said, holding out her manicured hand.

Kit took it, held it.

"Daisy," I said, elbowing him.

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "Shh."

"Think about the dog." He groaned, let go of Maria's hand.

"Daisy?" she said. "Are you using daisies on the design, Nina? Did we talk about that? And what dog? You know I can't have dogs around. They shed. My clothes would get ruined."

I rolled my eyes. "God forbid you get a lint brush."

Frowning, she carefully tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. A big round sapphire twinkled from her earlobe. Apparently, she'd decided to ignore me. "No sign of Nate yet?"

A former professional baseball pitcher who'd been sidelined after hurting his arm, Nate Biederman, Maria's fiancé, was now a junior executive at the Kalypso, a riverboat casino just over the Ohio border in Indiana. He and Maria had met a year ago while working together on some charity shindig or another and had been inseparable ever since.

"Not yet. Maybe he hit traffic?" I said. The Kalypso was a good fifty minutes and two highways away from here. She wrinkled her nose.

"Maybe. I haven't been able to get in touch with him all day. Oh well. I guess we can get started without him."

I grabbed the can of marking paint. Today we were going to draw preliminary pathways on the dirt, so the irrigation work could get started. "Are you happy with the paths on the design board? The ones we already agreed on?" I added for good measure, hoping she wouldn't change her mind. Again.

"Well," she said, and fluttered her lashes at me. I groaned.

Kit elbowed me out of the way. He looked at Maria with big moon pie eyes. "We can do anything you want," he said, then added, "I'm getting a dog."

Maria's face brightened into a smile and she clapped. She'd been a cheerleader in high school, and even at twenty-five hadn't completely broken old habits. "A dog! How fabulous for
you,
" she said to him, flirting up a storm. I stepped in between the two of them. "A dog, because he wants a baby and his
girlfriend
Daisy doesn't." Kit growled at me. So did Maria. I was beginning to feel unwanted.

The echo chamber produced another slam of a door, quickly followed by a second and third. "Maybe that's Nate now?" I said.

We all trekked along the back wall to the corner of the house. Coming toward us were a man and two women—one older, one younger. I recognized them immediately, seeing as how I'd just met them a week ago.

Maria stopped short. "Mr. Frye? What are you doing here?" She then turned to me. "Nina, you remember my bosses, Mr. Colin Frye and Mrs. Roz Phineus? And," she nodded to the younger woman, "Mr. Frye's wife, Verona?"

"I remember," I said, holding out my hand. I'd met them at the engagement party they'd thrown for Maria and Nate. I'd been confused as all get-out when I'd first met the bunch until Maria explained that Roz was Verona's mother and that Phineus Frye had been founded by Verona's father. Colin and Roz had taken it over after he died.

Mrs. Phineus waved Maria's introduction away. She had long red fingernails, short spiky silver hair, and sharp eagle eyes. "Call me Roz," she said in a three-pack-a-day voice. Huge princess-cut diamonds sagged on her earlobes.

"This is Kit Pipe," I told them, nudging him forward.

Verona's eyes widened, and Roz smiled brightly. "Oh my," the older woman said with a sigh as she took Kit's hand.

Kit might look scary, but he had a way with women that baffled me.

As Roz released his hand, she smiled, and I noticed her facial muscles barely moved. Obviously, she'd had a little work done.

Maria slipped her suit coat back on. "I—I wasn't aware you were coming . . ."

Colin Frye held his hands up. "Forgive us for just dropping in."

Maria smiled one of her famous charming smiles, and I swear I heard Kit sigh. I passed him the marking paint. "Why don't you go mark . . . something?"

He grinned knowingly at me. Roz fanned herself as he went.

Verona rolled her eyes. She looked to be a few years older than me—mid-thirties—and was tall, maybe fiveten, with stringy blonde hair and a plain-Jane pale face. She had a pinched look about her, as though she spent a lot of time squinting. With a heavy sigh Verona said, "Roz, please."

I wondered what my mother would do if I called her "Celeste." Possibly she would maim me . . . or worse. Maria fidgeted. "I'm thrilled you stopped by, Mr. Frye, but I'm not sure why."

On the younger side of forty, Colin Frye had curly golden hair, liquid brown eyes, and a slightly lopsided smile. He folded his arms across his chest, rocked back on his heels. Verona answered for him. "We were in the area for dinner and thought we'd stop by in hopes of catching Nate. I haven't been able to reach him by phone."

Maria tipped her head, her blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight. "Nate? Why? Oh, something to do with the gala?" To me, Maria explained, "Phineus Frye and the Kalypso are teaming up again this year to raise money for the Phineus Cancer Foundation. Nate's running things on the Kalypso side."

"And," Verona said, "after what happened to poor Brian Thatcher, Colin has put me in charge of the Phineus Frye side of things."

I looked a question at Maria. Who was Brian Thatcher? She gave a short little "not now" shake of her head.
Ohh-kay.

"She's very qualified," Colin added, as if I had been questioning it.
I hadn't been.

Roz had wandered a few feet away, watching Kit trek across the backyard to check out the pond. He wasn't marking anything—the design plans were in my backpack. "Nate has some paperwork I need," Verona said, deftly turning the conversation back to why they were here. Maria's perfectly shaped eyebrows dipped. "I can check the condo, but he probably has it at work if it concerns the gala."

Nate and Maria lived together in a condo on the other side of town. They were waiting until after the wedding to move in here, their dream house, which was fully finished, furnished, and decorated.

Verona Frye's right hand went to her throat, to a beautiful strand of pearls. "I'm sorry to be a bother, but this is quite important. The caterer . . ."

"I'd call Nate myself," Maria said, "but he's not been reachable today. How soon do you need the paperwork?" Verona let go of her pearls. "As soon as possible. Tonight would be great. There's been a bit of a snafu. The caterer has a number quite a bit smaller than the one I have. We need to verify, and Nate has the master list."

Maria pressed her lips together. "I'm sorry. I'll ask him about it when he gets home and have him get in touch with you."

Colin Frye's lips curved into a smile. "We'd appreciate it, Maria."

I could tell Maria wasn't entirely comfortable with her boss's presence.

Verona's hand went back to her pearls. "Colin, dear, we should be going if we're to keep our reservations. Roz?" she called out. "We're leaving."

Roz blew a kiss to Kit before accepting Colin's offered arm. They headed toward their car. Maria and I walked with Verona. She watched me out of the corner of her eye, making me a bit uneasy.

"Maybe," I said, "I should go help Kit."

"No!" Verona cried under her breath. She slowed her steps.

"No?"

"I was hoping to get a moment alone with you, without Colin or Roz . . . I've been reading about Taken by Surprise. I'd love for you to come do one of your 'minis' at our house. I think Colin would be tickled. Maybe this coming weekend? He'll be out of town . . ."

A "mini" was a mini makeover. One that took a couple of hours at most and usually focused solely on one trouble area instead of a whole yard.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I couldn't possibly. There's not enough time."

Maria clapped her hands (if she did it one more time, I'd be forced to get out duct tape) and said, "It would be wonderful to surprise Mr. Frye!"

"No. Time."

"If it's cost . . ." Verona said, in a way that screamed dollar signs.

"No, it's not cost. It's time. I don't have any."

"Nina, it's just a mini," Maria said. "How long could it take?"

My jaw dropped.

Maria fluttered her lashes. "He
is
my boss, Nina."

She added the smile.

I sighed. Heavily.

"Think of it as a wedding gift for me."

"Uh . . ." I said, opening my arms toward her backyard. True, I wasn't footing the six-figure bill for the work, but it was my design . . . and my crew who would be implementing the plans. "An additional gift."

How did I get myself into these situations? "Call my office," I told Verona. "I'll see what I can do."

I thought Maria might do a cartwheel.

"Thanks so much," Verona said to me in a whisper as we reached the car.

Colin helped his wife into the front seat. "Have Nate call us when he gets in, Maria," Colin said. "This is a quite important matter. I don't want any guests going hungry."