Chapter 21
NOLAN
“So you just forgot to mention the barrel racing contest?”
Marielle glared right back at Nolan, hands on her hips. “Yes, exactly. I’m a busy woman, and it slipped my mind. But now you know, so do you want to pick me up or take my car?”
Give me strength.
“Neither. I already spoke with Antonella, and I told her that if I go, I’ll be on my own.”
Or with Alexa, but he figured she’d rather pull the keys off her laptop one by one than make small talk with the Cranstons’ eclectic bunch of guests.
“What’s the point in taking two vehicles? Your little friend has swanned off overseas again, so you don’t need to worry about her seeing us and whining about it. She probably contaminated that wine to get attention.”
“What did you just say?”
“Teo told me about the sulphur contamination, and Nolan, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that. But you should know I saw Alexis skulking around in the winery yesterday afternoon, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she’d tampered with that tank before she left.”
“It wasn’t Alexa.”
“She’s an attention-seeker, that one. You mark my words.”
Nolan was tempted to fire Marielle right then and screw the rest of the furnishings.
But he knew that wouldn’t work. If he kicked her off the job, he’d be the bad guy, and in a small town like Mason’s Hill, that kind of reputational damage would be hard to recover from, especially with Roy Leland spreading rumours too.
No, he needed proof that Marielle was behind the damage—or not—so she could suffer the consequences she deserved. Which meant keeping her around for a little longer.
“Well, Alexa hasn’t gone to Japan. She’s still here, and she definitely has my attention.”
“What about Chase?”
“What about him?”
He’d delayed his trip to Japan too—Alexa needed him to help with the security system.
“Don’t you think cavorting with his girlfriend is inappropriate?”
“We have Chase’s blessing. And we’ll have to catch up on progress with the cottage later—Trey Gardner just arrived.”
Trey’s Porsche SUV was trundling up the driveway thirty minutes early, which meant two things—as usual, he’d broken the speed limits to get here, but this time, he’d managed to avoid the highway patrol.
He ran three restaurants and a high-end nightclub in San Francisco, and he liked to visit for a tasting each year, always staying for a week with a stunning blonde, but never the same one.
They’d booked Beldi, a relief because Nolan was still sleeping in the guest wing and Trey was never quiet.
Fernanda looked after the changeovers, and the cottage was ready and waiting.
This year’s blonde was actually a redhead named Charlie, who gushed over the scenery and the decor and Juno before Nolan managed to escape into the house. Alexa was still awake, despite staying up for most of the night scheming.
“Do you need more coffee?” Nolan asked her.
She’d ordered a desk, but it had come flat-packed and there was a leg missing.
While Chase organised the return and redelivery, Alexa had taken over the study, her four screens and three laptops set up on the huge old desk.
This morning, a crew had shown up to talk about hardwiring a faster internet connection, but they didn’t look as though they were with the telecoms company.
Their van was plain white, they wore black, and at least one of them had been carrying a gun.
Alexa had greeted them like old friends.
She’d agreed to be “open and honest,” but Nolan suspected she was still holding back on the “open” part.
Still, he’d take whatever he could get.
“No, I’m going to sleep in a minute. Everything for the security system is ordered, and it’ll be here tomorrow.”
“You’re not putting cameras inside the house.”
“Blah, blah, blah. You said that last time, and then there was a murder.”
“There are only three of us living here, and I’m assuming Chase isn’t into ritual killings?”
“Of course not.”
“And you can’t film the guest accommodation either. There are rules about that.”
“Rules, schmules.”
“Alexa…”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“What about installation?”
“It’s solar-powered and wireless. Chase is good on a ladder.”
Nolan kissed her forehead. “Sleep well. For what it’s worth, I think you might be right about Marielle. She just told me you were an attention-seeker, and I figure there’s some projection going on.”
“I have another designer lined up for when she’s gone.”
“From Sacramento?”
“From San Francisco.”
“They’ll travel here?”
“They will for me. I still have a twenty percent stake in the firm.” Alexa’s lips curved into a sly smile. “My father’s business wasn’t the only one I took down. Rockwell Interiors was a practice run.”
“What did you do? Drain the bank accounts?”
“Nope. I found twelve young, hungry, talented designers and paid their college tuition on the condition that when they graduated, they came to work for a brand-new firm in San Francisco. They outshone Mom in every way, and when they bid against her on a job—I made sure that happened a lot—they undercut her prices enough that they always won the contract. It took two years, but her company went under, and with Dad’s business in trouble, he couldn’t bail her out.
Chase had to buy the champagne because I hadn’t turned twenty-one yet. ”
“Damn. Talk about playing the long game.”
“I’m not always impatient. And once Mom’s goose was well and truly cooked, I signed over eighty percent of the shares in North of Market to the team. They deserved it.”
So she’d put her mother down by lifting others up.
Alexa could be a renegade, and Nolan didn’t doubt she crossed a few lines as well as paying lip service to societal norms, but he felt admiration for the woman she’d become.
He knew what it was like to fall headlong into a family nightmare, and hers had lasted longer than his.
At least his mom had gotten them the hell out of Washington as soon as his father was charged with multiple homicide.
She’d always claimed she had no idea about her husband’s proclivities, and although many didn’t believe her, especially in the media, Nolan had always come to her defence.
What choice did he have? Without her, he would have been in foster care, and if the FBI had decided to charge her as an accessory, she’d never have survived prison.
Shara Calder had been a homebody, almost too kind, no match for his father’s stronger personality.
The complete opposite of Alexa.
His Alexa.
Her tangled mind fascinated him, although he was never sure if he was pulling the knots tighter or unravelling her completely.
“I’ll wake you for dinner.”
She already had her face buried in her laptop again. “Uh-huh, whatever.”
* * *
Sometimes, Alexa surprised Nolan. Okay, she did that most of the time, but sometimes she really surprised him.
This morning when he’d asked if she wanted to come barrel racing, she’d said, “Okay.”
“You know there’ll be people there, right?”
A nod. “But you keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”
“The Cranstons aren’t the enemy.”
“Isn’t Marielle going?”
“She got an invite.”
“How about Roy Leland?”
“He’s sponsoring the senior class.”
Nolan had seen his name on the schedule Antonella sent over. There was no charge for tickets, but attendees were expected to open their wallets and donate to the local 4-H club. Sponsors had their names in the program, and they were welcome to present the cup for their event.
“And Bo Hayes?”
“If there’s free food, he’ll be there.”
Alexa put her hands on her hips in a move reminiscent of Marielle, but cuter. “Then I’m going too.”
Earlier, she’d walked into his bedroom wearing a plain white linen dress, high-heeled pumps, and a determined expression, her hair smooth and straight rather than piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She was even wearing make-up.
“Who are you, and what have you done with Alexa?”
“Shut up. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back.”
Now she was standing at his side, shocking him once again by making polite small talk with strangers.
Comfortable? Far from it—she gripped the handle of her oversized tote so hard her knuckles turned white—but she wore a forced smile, and she’d obviously googled barrel racing before they left, a chore because she liked horses about as much as she liked dogs.
Although she didn’t freak out when Juno meandered into the room anymore. Progress?
And the other surprise? Chase had flown to Japan yesterday, later than planned and alone.
Alexa’s suitcases had been packed, ready for her to go with him, but two minutes before they were due to leave, she’d muttered something about system testing and stomped into the study, which she’d adopted as her new girl-cave.
Chase had shrugged and given Nolan a wry smile. “Good luck, buddy.”
“Aren’t you staying with her?”
“She’s all yours.”
Nolan only hoped that was true, but first, he had to nudge Marielle Marten out of his life. No doubt she’d make somebody a perfect wife or girlfriend, but Nolan wasn’t that man. Especially when she flipped the switch from charming to argumentative.
“Where’s Marielle?” Alexa muttered.
“Running late?” Honestly, he didn’t care. “You doing okay?”
“I don’t know. Am I?”
“Where did you learn how to work a party?”
Alexa gave a faint grimace. “From my mom. Next up: I get home, drink half a bottle of gin, and then throw a shoe at you.”
“Good thing I’m a badass motherducker.”
When Alexa snorted Coke out of her nose—the drink, not the drug—Nolan offered a handkerchief.
“Asshole.”
“I love seeing all these new facets of you.”
Alexa finished wiping her face as Antonella Cranston glided to a serene halt beside them.
“Is everything okay here?” She asked out of custom rather than concern because she didn’t wait for an answer. “Are you one of the girls from the program? How nice of Nolan to bring you tonight.”
“What program?” Alexa asked.