Chapter 16
Sunlight filteredthrough the pines bracketing the highway, and, with the windows open, Booker breathed in the fresh mountain air.
It felt good to be back in Calamity. It always did. Which, of course, was why he’d bought a cabin here.
He got a flash of Hellcat’s smile, bright blue eyes, and hair tousled from the fucking he was giving her. Her laughter struck a chord inside him that reverberated to this day.
Yeah, he thought about her a lot, but the memories came roaring back when he visited Calamity. Damn, he’d had a good time with her. Nothing like it before or after.
He couldn’t get over the fact that she never got his note. By the time he’d figured it out, she was long gone, and there’d been no way to track her down.
He’d hurt her. And it ground through him. He wished he could make it right.
Had she gotten back with Beau? He didn’t know the whole story, but the fucker had betrayed her, so he hoped like hell she hadn’t. Where had she wound up? Every time he visited Calamity, he found himself looking for her face in the crowd.
Stupid. Why would she stay? She had to be long gone.
This stretch of 191 from the airport to Lorelei’s Paintbrush Ranch had no traffic. There were no shops, no gas stations. Nothing.
This woman wants to be left the hell alone.
If he continued on a little ways, he’d hit the Gentry Mining Corp. And beyond that, Yellowstone National Park. But this stretch was all national park. Every now and then, he’d catch a flash of Calamity Lake through the trees.
His GPS had him turning off the highway and onto a narrow, dusty lane. He drove a mile through the woods before he hit a massive gate. There were cameras everywhere and no code for this place, so he texted Ginty. A moment later, the steel blockade parted for him.
He drove another half-mile until the woods gave way to a magnificent, green valley. He hit the brake at the rise in the road just to take it in. Sunlight turned the river molten silver as it snaked across the canyon floor and glinted off the copper gutters of the lodge.
From this perspective, he had a good view of the property’s layout. Front and center, facing the river, the stone and timber lodge stood two stories with a wraparound porch. Behind it were the outbuildings that included a large garage for ranch equipment, dormitory-style housing, a corral and stables, and then a cluster of twelve cabins tucked into the woods.
In the distance, a tractor kicked up dust. Goats tussled in a pen, and horses grazed and flicked their tails on a grassy knoll. Damn, it was a nice spread. He liked his cabin, but this place… He’d love to own a place like this. If he still had friends here, they’d fish, ride their ATVs, and smoke cigars around the firepit.
But he didn’t have friends, and it was time to get going. The sooner he pulled off this wedding, the sooner he could get to Ontario and find out what was going on with the Marchaud family. He parked in front of the lodge, grabbed his suitcase, and headed up the stone walkway.
“You made it.” Ginty pushed out the screen door and greeted him.
“This place is huge. Tell me she lives here with her roadies, band, producers, and everyone she’s ever known.”
Ginty laughed. “Nope. None of that.”
Padded rockers lined the long, wide porch, and colorful flower baskets dangled between the thick spruce fir posts. He filled his lungs with pine-scented air and took in the sound of rushing water.
Everything about this place screamed home.
He dropped the handle of his suitcase and gave Ginty a hug. “Sorry those fuckers stole your wedding.”
“Yeah, it sucks.” After his client gave him a few hearty slaps on the back, he pulled away. “But I can’t thank you enough for what you and Lor are doing.”
“Of course.” He reached for the handle. “We got this.”
“Come in.” Ginty ushered him inside the house. “Let me show you your room.”
“You get in touch with everyone yet?”
“Mostly. Guests’ll start arriving the day after tomorrow.”
Booker followed him across a huge living area with a massive stone hearth, a wall of bookcases, and multiple seating areas. Old timber beams crossed the two-story ceiling. “This place is ridiculous.”
“Right? If things had to go sideways, I can’t think of a better backup plan than this.” As they climbed the stairs, Ginty said, “Your room’s got a desk, so if you need to catch up on some work, you’re all set.”
“Nope. Did everything I needed on the plane.” Which wasn’t exactly true. He knew if he checked his phone, he’d see a dozen missed calls and countless text messages. But for right now, his priority was Ginty. “Soon as I settle in, I’ll meet with Lorelei.”
“She’s not here right now. She had to run into town.”
“Everything all right?” Booker asked.
“It’s not wedding related. She’s on a committee for the Wild West Days, and their headliner canceled.”
“Oh, shit. That’s bad.” As a kid, he’d loved that festival. “When is it?”
“It’s already started.” Ginty glanced at him over his shoulder. “But the concert’s not till Sunday.”
Oof, that was bad timing. The singer had a lot on her plate. At the top of the stairs, they walked side by side. “Why live on this remote piece of land but work on committees?”
“Celebrities aren’t a big thing around here, so the locals leave her alone. Basically, she wants her privacy but doesn’t want to live in hiding. And if anyone does try to fuck with her, she’s got insane security.” They stopped outside a bedroom. “This one’s yours. Lor wants us to get started on the plans without her, so come downstairs when you’re ready.”
“Will do.” He rolled the suitcase into the room.
Ginty lingered in the doorway. “Booker?”
He’d just swiped the screen of his phone to put out a few fires, but his client’s tone had him worried. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for this. You’re a good friend.”
He thought about what Lorelei said about how he referred to Ginty as his client. Mixing money and business with friends never worked. And yet…would he have thrown a wedding for any of his other athletes? Maybe. But given his reaction when he’d heard the wedding was off, he supposed he did feel…protective of Ginty. “No problem.”
“We’ll try to keep it simple.”
And there it was again, Ginty thinking he had to take up as little space as possible while his family grabbed all the real estate. Booker set the phone down and faced him. “Fuck simple. You only get married once, and we’ve got all the resources to make the wedding you and Noa want.”
The big, muscular forward’s eyes turned glossy. He lowered his chin, clearly struggling with emotion. And then, he grabbed Booker and gave him a bear hug. “How is it that I’m fuckin’ older than you, but you’re the one with your shit together?” He pulled back. “I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you. I wouldn’t have found Noa. And I wouldn’t be fucking thriving. You’re a good man, and I owe you my life.”
Panic kicked up in his chest. “You don’t owe me anything. You’re my client. I make money off you.” He grinned like it was all a joke. “Of course, I need you happy.” As he set his suitcase on the bed, he knew he’d sounded more mean than funny.
This was an emotional time for Ginty, and he wanted to be there for him, but he couldn’t blur the lines. He had to keep it professional. And hosting a wedding was just keeping his client happy to ensure he played well during the upcoming season. If he had a soft spot for the guy, it was because his family had fucked him over so many times.
That’s all it is.
But when he turned back to Ginty, he found the man smiling. “Who hurt you?”
“Fuck off. Now, get out of here so I can take care of my less needy clients.”
Ginty chuckled and left him alone to check his messages. He fielded a few issues and made sure his assistant booked his flight to Ontario.
Booker: I’ll need a car rental, too. And directions. They live in a remote mountain town.
Wise One: Already done. Will send directions to your phone right before you land so they don’t get lost under a mountain of messages.
Booker: Appreciate it.
Wise One: Johnson invited you to his wife’s birthday party. You were supposed to be in St. Lucia, so you couldn’t make it back in time, but I think you can probably fit it in now.
Booker: As long as it’s after Ontario. I’m about to meet with the bride and groom to come up with a plan. Shouldn’t be in town too long. A rehearsal dinner, a wedding, and then I’m gone.
Wise One: Party’s in Michigan so, yes, it would be on the way back from Ontario. Let me know.
Booker: Will do.
He headed toward the staircase, scrolling through text messages, when a sound broke through his concentration.
“Dat not nice.” It was a child’s voice. “I not bad.”
He waited to hear an adult, but when he didn’t, he peered into the bedroom. Actually, it was a nursery. A stunning trompe l’oeil depiction of a zoo covered the walls. A line of penguins waddled toward the window, a giant giraffe head leaned over a fence, monkeys swung from branches, and a little girl used an elephant’s trunk as a swing.
Across the room from a white bedframe was a built-in bookcase.
And a small child was climbing it. Adrenaline shot through him, and he dashed into the room, grabbing the kid around the waist and prying her stubborn fingers off the shelf.
“Hey, mans.” The little girl twisted in his arms. “What you doing?”
Good question.His heart pounded. “That doesn’t look very safe.”
“Stevie?” Noa came racing into the room. She came to a stop when she saw him manhandling the child. “What’s going on?”
“She was climbing the bookcase.”
“Girl.” Noa shook her head. “You were supposed to be getting your puzzle.” She took the girl from him. “You didn’t come here for it, did you?”
The girl pointed. “Dat my moof.”
They both glanced up to see a stuffed moose on the top shelf.
“Your mommy put it there because you threw it at your grampa, remember?”
“Gampa tooked my yolli away.” She said it angrily, but with her curly blond hair and red lips, it was pretty adorable.
“He took your lollipop away because it was breakfast, and you refused to eat your eggs. You snuck a lollipop out of the pantry instead.”
“I yike my yolli.”
“Child, you’ve got a lot to learn about self-discipline.” Noa shot him a look. “Thanks for the save.”
“No problem. I’m heading down to meet Ginty to talk wedding plans.”
“Yep. Let me find something to keep this one busy, and I’ll meet you down there.”
“You got it.” The house was quiet, so he wondered whose kid it was. Like her fiancé, Noa had fractured relationships, but she was close with two of her siblings.
The kid’s probably her niece.
Then again, he didn’t know much about Lorelei Calloway. Maybe she retired because she had a family. He couldn’t explain why his heart pinched at the thought of her being married. They’d had one conversation. It wasn’t like he knew her.
No, it was more that she reminded him of someone.
Hellcat.
Same energy, same boldness, same snark.
For the thousandth time, he wondered where she was. If he knew, he’d look her up, and if she wasn’t back with Beau, he’d reach out. Without thinking, he patted his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. He’d probably never have a chance to give her the note, but he held out hope.
He found Ginty at the dining room table. “Hey, man. That was quick. I figured you’d be wheeling and dealing.”
“I’m supposed to be at your wedding in St. Lucia. I’ve got all my business handled.”
“That right there…” Ginty stared at him for a moment. He swallowed. “That’s why I went with you when you left Elite. Everyone thought I was crazy to leave the top agency in the world.”
“And I’m sure Marcus came at you hard.” His old boss had tried to sue him, but fortunately, some of Booker’s Yale law school buddies were well-connected and shut Marcus down. He’d heard Elite had since changed the terms of its contracts. His former colleagues referred to it as the Booker Clause.
“Oh, yeah. Tried to make it sound like you’d done me a disservice. But all it did was reinforce what I already knew. I needed to be with an agent who made decisions based on what’s best for my mental and physical health. Not just my career.”
“Hey, guys.” Noa came down the stairs, the little girl on her hip. She set several brightly colored toys on the floor.
The girl wriggled free. “I pway now.”
Noa bent over, so she could look the toddler in the eyes. “Stay right here, okay, Stevie girl?”
But the toddler didn’t answer. She had her tongue out, legs crossed, as she pressed different shaped blocks into a plastic box. The circle dropped right in. So did the square. But when she kept trying to jam the triangular block into the star-shaped hole, Booker got on his knees to show her where it went. “See that? It slides right in.”
“Now, dis one.” She held up a semi-circle.
“You got this,” he said. “Go on. See where it fits.”
“Okay.” She tried the various shapes, smacking the block to get it to conform. Finally, she let out a dramatic sigh. “I can’t do it.”
“I know you can.” He flicked his fingers in a gimme motion. She handed it over, but instead of taking it, he traced her finger around the shape of it. “See how it has a straight line down here?” He slid her finger along it. “And this part is round?”
She ran her finger over the semi-circle. “Go here?” She smacked it against the rectangular hole.
Again, he took her finger and touched each side. “Straight line. Rounded top.” Then, he showed her the holes. “Which one has a straight line on the bottom and a rounded top?”
She put the box in her lap and counted the holes. “One. Free. Two. A hunnert.” And then she touched the semi-circle, ran her fingers over it, looked at the block, and said, “Dis one.” It slid easily inside. When it landed at the bottom, she gave him a grin.
Those chiclet teeth cracked him up. “You got it.” He held up a hand, and she slapped it. When he settled back in his chair, he found Noa and Ginty staring at him. “What?”
“Is there anything you’re not good at? You were drafted into the NHL.” Noa started ticking items off on her fingers. “You were number one in your law school class?—”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Every year, there’s a number one. And I never played in a single game.”
With a shake of her head, Noa disregarded his comments. “You’re handsome, charming, you’re the best agent in the world?—”
“I’m sorry.” Ginty reached for her hand. “Do I need to give you two a moment?”
“Oh, God, no.” Noa burst out laughing. “Can you imagine him putting up with my moods for even five minutes?” She pressed a kiss to her groom’s mouth. “You’re the only man in the world who gets me and loves me for all my chaos.”
Ginty cupped the back of her head. “I see beyond your chaos to the smart, creative, beautiful woman you are.”
“Baby.” Her voice went all soft and swoony.
Time to get the conversation back on track. But before he could say anything, he felt a tug on his jeans. He looked down to see the little girl holding a board puzzle. As she lifted it to him, pieces hit the hardwood floor. “I got it.” He pushed his chair back and stacked the pieces onto the board. “Here you go.”
“Sit wif you.”
“You want to sit on my lap?” He looked at Noa, hoping she’d intervene. Take charge. Wasn’t there someone who could watch this kid?
But the girl was already starting to climb him.