Chapter 4
Nash
I’m flirting with Magnolia. I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
Magnolia. Her name fits her. It feels bright and whimsical. Of all the people I could have run into on that staircase, I managed to run into the funniest, most attractive woman in the building.
Her blonde hair all piled up on her head, her pink lips that are quick to turn up in a smile. Eyes that sparkle with mischief. She’s taller than average, but I still have her by several inches. She’s beautiful.
And I have no business being so enamored with her. I can’t ask her out. I’m supposed to have a fiancée right now.
I get distracted from Magnolia’s bright smile when I spot a familiar face at the back of the crowd. There are about thirty people still standing in the parking lot.
Of course my uncle would be here. Because he’s exactly where he shouldn’t be.
Kevin Renner has a talent for being a complete pain in the neck. He doesn’t work in this building. There’s no reason he should be in this area…but I know what I saw. His timing is impeccable.
I try to catch his eye, but he’s busy slinking away, attempting to hide behind three firefighters walking back to their truck.
Aha. So, Kevin doesn’t want me to know that he’s here. Interesting. He’s been extra shifty lately—ever since Grandpa mentioned changing his will.
I glance down at Magnolia, who’s still standing beside me. She has an amused look on her face as she surveys the surrounding chaos. The mayhem doesn’t seem to affect her mood, and I wish I could be more like that. If it weren’t for her, I’d be a lot grumpier right now.
People are going to come to me for answers, and I don’t have them.
I’d rather stand here and keep talking with her. She’s witty, and this is the first time I’ve felt like flirting with a beautiful woman in a long time.
But I have more pressing matters than my own fun.
I hold out my hand to her. “Thanks for a flying good time.”
“Thanks for the attempted murder,” she says with a grin as she shakes my hand, her grip strong.
“My mom always told me I had a hard time finishing a task.”
Her hand is still in my grasp, and I notice her pink nails match her shoes. I’m way too easily distracted where this woman is concerned.
“I’m glad. My mom would have been upset to have a pancake for a daughter.”
I’d love nothing more than to keep talking with Magnolia, but Anson Titus, the head of security, is calling my name. “I’m going to go see what needs to happen.”
“Oh, right, probably important since you work in infrastructure. Good luck keeping the building standing.”
“I’ll call you if I need an extra hand propping up a wall.”
She smiles back. “Please don’t. I’m not very strong.”
She raises her hand in a little wave, then spins on her heel and walks away toward the parking lot across the street. Her stride is smooth as though she’s perfectly used to walking in shoes that high.
Anson stops next to me, and I’m forced to give my attention to the full-bearded man who’s somewhere in his early fifties. Nothing against Anson, but Magnolia is a lot nicer to look at.
“There’s camera footage of someone pulling the fire alarm on the first floor,” Anson says abruptly. He’s not one to mess around with small talk.
“Could you see who it was?”
Anson messes with his phone. “I didn’t recognize him.”
“That seems a little odd. You don’t suppose they saw steam coming from the kitchens and thought it was a fire?” There’s a café on the first floor, and that would be the most logical explanation.
“It’s a possibility, but not too likely. They have a good venting system. I can’t imagine the steam coming out into the hallway.”
I pull my phone from my pocket and try to access the security feed, but I have my login password saved on my laptop…which is not with me right now.
Anson holds his extra-large smartphone out to me. At least one of us is prepared. The video feed is paused on a grainy image of a man. “It’s not too clear, but you might be able to see if you recognize him.”
I sigh, switching the folder of papers to my other arm. Tucking them inside my jacket didn’t work like I thought it would. I’m pretty sure I have a papercut on my rib cage. I hold his phone closer.
Aha, Kevin.
“Does it look like that man is wearing a sweater vest?”
Anson looks at me in surprise. “It sure looks like it. I didn’t know those were still a thing. My grandma used to knit me one every Christmas.”
Because Kevin was wearing a sweater vest when he slunk away a couple of minutes ago. I’ve been worried he would do something outrageous, but I didn’t think he’d go this far.
Uncle Kevin thinks I have a version of Grandpa’s will in my office. One of my younger cousins, Jackie, cracked a joke about me having a copy, and Kevin believed her. I never bothered to correct him.
My aunts, uncles, and cousins view me as a threat to their inheritance. If Grandpa hadn’t patched things up with my dad and me, then I wouldn’t be in the will, or that’s what the rest of the family thinks.
I’m officially the least favorite member of the Whitlock family. I’ve upset the balance.
Kevin has been the most vocal about my Grandpa’s money, and the fact that he doesn’t want to share it with me.
If he was here messing around at the building, maybe he thought it would be easy to get into my office space and read the will—which I definitely don’t have a copy of.
I keep some personal papers locked away in my office, but even I don’t have access to Grandpa’s will.
And who cares about it anyway? Grandpa is sick.
He’s dying, and all Kevin cares about is who gets the money.
“Would you excuse me while I make a quick call?” I need to make sure Kevin hasn’t been pestering Grandpa all morning. His health is fragile.
Anson gives me a nod, and I call Mary, my grandpa’s day nurse.
“He’s awake right now if you want to talk to him,” she says by way of greeting.
Mary is brusque, efficient, and quickly becoming one of my favorite people in the world.
She raised four boys, then went back to nursing school, and now works full-time.
She doesn’t take nonsense from anybody, which makes her the perfect caregiver for my grandpa.
She’s kept him comfortable and protected him from overbearing family members.
“I’m heading that way in a few minutes. Just thought I’d check in before I do.” I clear my throat. “Lots of visitors today?”
Mary doesn’t bother to be tactful. “Kevin left a while ago, and Judith is still downstairs, drinking wine. Alexander’s sister is here with her daughters. They’re hovering in the hallway and annoying me.”
“All right. I’ll be there.”
Anson is more than capable of keeping everyone out of the building for the day and checking over everything. And that timeline would have given Kevin plenty of time to come to the building and pull the fire alarm.
I hang up the phone and deal with the mess in front of me. “Anson, I need to go check on my grandpa, but I’ll be back after lunch. Do you mind keeping everyone out? I’ll talk to as many of the bosses as I can find in the chaos.”
Anson nods. “I’m pretty sure it was that guy who set it off, but better safe than sorry. I’m sorry about your grandpa. I miss seeing him around here.”
Alexander Whitlock, my grandfather, is a man who’s unafraid to live. He loves big, fights loud, and brings a vibrant energy to every room he enters.
When his health started to fail, he asked me to take over management of this building for him. While I told Magnolia that I was in infrastructure here…that wasn’t exactly true. I own this building. Grandpa signed it over in a living trust when the doctor discovered his weak heart.
He trusts me to treat the businesses well that are renting the spaces, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. It’s good protocol to do a full systems check—even if someone did pull the fire alarm.
Weaving through the crowd, I spread the word that the building will be shut down for the rest of the day. Yes, it makes me the bad guy with the bosses, but it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.
The fire chief promises to go back through with special attention on the CO2 alarms.
Anson gives me a sardonic salute, and I take that chance to jump in my car, parked directly in front of the building, and get out of here before more bored first responders pull in.
A police officer helps direct people out of the way so that I have room to back out. Normally, I would stay until everything is cleared up, but Grandpa’s home on hospice, and every minute I have with him is a gift. The doctors deemed any kind of surgery at his age is practically a death sentence.
When I reach his neighborhood, I pass several nice estates before I pull onto the concrete driveway, drive past the wrought iron automatic gate, and park close to the main door.
Grandpa started out in landscaping. And turned out, he was so good at building businesses that he ended up getting into real estate, restaurants, breweries, and a ranch.
That man never did things in half measures—even his apologies.
The ranch was something he wanted to leave as a legacy to my dad and me.
Mom and I joke that it’s his apology ranch.
Grandpa wanted to show Dad that he had changed and was truly sorry for trying to separate him and my mom.
He gifted my dad with a ranch. And that was how I became the owner of the Pine Ridge ranch.
A few years after my dad passed, my best friend Max bought my dad’s half of the ranch and has been running it with me ever since.
Thinking about the ranch makes me homesick, but I know my Grandpa needs me here at this time.
I leave my car parked in front of the house, grab the folder, and run inside.
My aunt Judith is coming down the stairs.
She’s my father’s sister, and a big mark against her character is that she’s married to Kevin.
She’s always been fairly quiet but never stops Kevin from being awful to everyone else.
“It’s good you’re here,” she says with a sad smile. “You always cheer him up.” And then she continues down the stairs with slow, deliberate steps.
Maybe I’ve always been a little harsh on her. She has to say goodbye to her father after all. I know exactly what that pain is like.
I sprint up the rest of the stairs and reach Grandpa’s room. Luckily, Great Aunt Catherine isn’t waiting in the hall anymore.
Mary is inside, adjusting the IV drip next to the bed.
Grandpa looks at me with a small smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
I sit down in the overstuffed chair close to his bedside. “I actually take a lunch break. It’s this new invention that allows employees to eat their food in peace.”
“Bah. What a waste of good daylight.” His words are a whisper. So different from the loud voice of the grandfather I met for the first time at eight years old.
“We have lights in the building, you know.”
“You won’t if you keep taking time off,” he teases, but each word comes out slower than the next, and I know our conversation is taxing him.
I lean back and close my eyes. “If you’d be quiet for a minute, I’d actually get some rest before I have to get back to the office.”
His laugh sounds more like a hiss. I wait a moment, and then I peek under my lashes to see that he’s asleep. I sit up abruptly and look at Mary.
She nods at me. “He’s been having trouble resting comfortably, so I gave him a little pain reliever. It’s not surprising he fell asleep so fast. He doesn’t complain, but the pain takes its toll on him.”
She walks to the door. “I’m going to go take my lunch break,” she says with a sigh. “Call me if he needs anything.”
I wave and nod. “I’ll be here until you get back.”
With a deep breath, I open the folder I brought with me. It’s probably not my smartest move to keep all my important papers in a work safe, but since I’m renting a small townhouse—one I despise, I didn’t have room for a safe.
I wasn’t planning on living in Bend, I thought I was only staying for a little while to help Grandpa.
I was supposed to help him with a busy season, but then as his health went downhill, my responsibilities grew.
Grandpa wanted me to stay with him in his big house, but I didn’t want to be stuck dealing with the extended family all the time.
I’m not a people person. I was supposed to be back on the ranch by now, yet here I am, wearing suits and driving cars instead of trucks.
I would way rather be back home working with cattle. Heck, I’d even rather be fixing fence than managing my Grandpa’s business. But I promised I’d help.
Shaking my head, I focus on the papers in front of me. The first page in the folder is not mine. That’s strange.
My mind jumps back to the first moment I slammed into Magnolia.
I’d been running down those stairs at top speed, and then she stepped out of the doorway. I didn’t have time to slow down; instead, we both were propelled toward the metal railing. I barely had time to wrap my arm around her waist and lean back to prevent us from tumbling down.
I take a slow breath as I flex my hand, I can almost feel her hand still in mine. Funny how you can be instantly drawn to someone.
I was so distracted by her that I didn’t realize I was picking up the wrong papers. I’m looking at a list of names and phone numbers with little handwritten notes that are not mine. When we dropped our folders, we must have gotten mixed up.
I pull out my phone and text Anson. This might be a little invasive…but how else am I going to get her papers back to her?
Nash: Could you find a number for me for someone on the 8th floor? First name Magnolia. I’m not sure what her last name is.
We keep a list of all employees in the building so they can have a security access card in their name. Anson would be the one able to help me find her.
A few minutes later, Anson texts back with a number. No explanation, just ten digits.
I type in the number and it starts ringing.
I swallow the lump in my throat as I wait for her to answer.
Except it goes straight to voicemail. “Hi, this is Magnolia Hawthorne, I’m probably busy, or screening your call.
Please leave a message!” But then an automated voice informs me that the inbox is full.
I guess I’ll just have to run into her again tomorrow. And hope that she’s not really into identity theft.
She has my birth certificate and passport.