Chapter 2
Key West, Florida
Charli stared out the small oval window at the deep blue water, dotted with small jewel green islands that became more frequent as the plane continued its gradual descent into Key West. She smiled sadly, thinking back to the last time she had been here, wishing yet again that she hadn’t put off those promised visits with her aunt.
She huffed out a rough breath. The last two days had been a near-constant mental self-flagellation and Charli knew she had to put aside what happened in Boston and focus on the matter at hand, whatever that may be.
From the tone of the attorney’s letter and the file he had provided, it could truly be a mess to unravel.
She glanced down at the packet in her lap full of the materials Aunt Dottie wanted her to review before the reading of the will.
It was a strange collection of articles, advertisements, a book about historic Key West, and photos—mostly of Aunt Dottie’s old compound which had once been a bed and breakfast renowned for its elite clientele and eclectic history.
Called Paradise West, the bed and breakfast had been a high-end tourist destination in the early 20th Century. Charli smiled at a photo of Clark Gable lounging in a sun chair, a cigar in his hand and a wicked grin on his face. Her aunt had reveled in the resort’s hedonistic history.
The compound included four separate buildings and was walled off with thick four-foot-high coral walls that enclosed it from the street and a wall of tropical vegetation that extended at least another eight feet higher.
The buildings had been rather worn-down when she last saw them, with the tropical sun, salty air, and weather taking its toll.
But the main house had personality and mystery, and legend had it that the house also had its own ghost.
Charli wrinkled her nose at that thought and looked out the window again. She had never seen anything out of the ordinary during her stay, but she remembered that her aunt—who had loved everything paranormal—spoke about the ghost as if they had been best friends.
What had been the ghost’s name again?
She mentally shrugged. There was no point in wasting energy worrying about any of that right now. She’d find out what was going on soon enough and then hopefully head back to Boston within a week or two.
Glancing at her watch, she was pleasantly surprised to see they were landing ahead of schedule and looked out the window again as the plane began to circle the island, preparing for the steep drop onto the short airstrip.
Staring down at the lazy town that was just beginning to wake up made her smile. It was over a hundred miles from the mainland, and that attitude showed even from a thousand feet above.
The plane suddenly dove in for the landing and Charli smirked as her fellow passengers gasped at the rapid change in altitude.
She watched out the window as the jet touched down and quickly slowed, a mass of lush green palm trees and private jets flashing past. It felt good to be back, despite the circumstances that brought her here.
Charli took a deep breath as she stepped out of the plane; the warm subtropical air was thick and heavy in her lungs. Her lips twisted into a grimace as she realized that while her wool business suit might have been appropriate for Boston, it was not the wisest choice for landing in Key West.
She blinked in the brilliant sunlight, her hand coming up to shade her eyes. It was a dramatic change from the New England cold, gray January weather, and she realized with chagrin that her sunglasses were buried somewhere deep in one of her bags.
Charli made her way quickly across the concrete apron, following the long line of passengers walking to the small terminal.
Stepping inside, she took a moment to let her eyes adjust and spotted several baggage carousels located throughout the terminal.
She was unsure which one was hers but knew it would be several minutes before anything came through.
Standing off to the side, Charli grabbed her phone and ordered a ride, plugging in the address of the rental house that had been booked for her by Mr. Murphy’s assistant. The woman had been a godsend, managing all the travel arrangements.
I should definitely send her flowers as a thank you. What was her name again? Theresa?
With her ride set, she folded her arms across her chest and glanced around, taking in the diverse tourists and families who were here for fun and vacations. She sighed sadly...this was a much different visit for her.
As she scanned the space, her eyes landed on a tall, handsome, dark-haired man standing near the exit doors holding a sign at chest-level. With so many people in the terminal, she couldn’t read the sign, but jolted when she realized he was staring at her intently.
He smiled and waved, and Charli glanced over both shoulders, certain that he couldn’t be motioning to her. She had no idea who this person was.
As he made his way over—his eyes deadlocked on her—she fidgeted and looked around again. He had to have the wrong person. But as he got closer, she was able to read the sign...Charlotte Harris.
What the...? Why would anyone be looking for her?
Before she could get any further in her thoughts, he stepped in front of her. “Charlotte?” he asked, a friendly gleam in his chocolate brown eyes.
Wow, he’s even more handsome up close.
“Everyone calls me Charli.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t mean to be rude, but...who are you?”
His grin broadened and he shot out his hand. “I’m Jack Sullivan. Art asked me to pick you up.”
“Art?” she asked, her brow crinkling as she automatically shook his hand.
“Art Murray. He contacted you about the will.”
“Oh, Mr. Murray.”
Jack chuckled, his dreamy eyes sparkling.
“Yeah. But he’ll expect you to call him Art.
He asked me to pick you up and get you settled before the meeting later this afternoon,” he explained.
“Theresa printed off your picture from your firm’s website so I’d know who to look for.
” He gave her a cute side grin and a lazy dimple popped out on his left cheek.
Holy lord...chocolate brown eyes, golden tan, AND dimples? This guy must be a real lady killer.
Charli grit her teeth, trying to get her mind off that particular train of thought. She pulled out her phone, cancelling the ride she had scheduled. She pasted a polite smile on her face, meeting his eyes. “Well, that was thoughtful of both of you. Do you live on the island?”
Jack nodded. “Born and raised.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Wow! You’re a real Conch. I’ve read that it’s rare.”
His lips twitched with mirth and a gleam twinkled in his eyes. “You make it sound like a disease,” he teased. “But seriously, it’s the best place in the world to live. Don’t know why anyone would want to leave.”
“Hmm,” she murmured, studying his tall, muscular frame. His outfit was a complete contrast to hers—brown carpenter pants, a blue t-shirt that stretched beautifully over strong broad shoulders and muscled arms, and a pair of worn work boots. “Did I take you away from something?”
He ran a hand through his thick, brown hair as he held her gaze. “Nah. I completed a big project an hour ago, so I’m off duty for the day.”
“What do you do?” she asked, her interest in this guy growing by the second.
“I work on restoration projects. Demand on the island itself usually keeps me busy, but every now and then, I’ll take a project up the keys.”
“Restoration? On historic buildings?”
“Yeah, mostly. Sometimes I’ll take a standard job if I have the time. But lately, I’ve been booked solid in Old Town.” He glanced over his shoulder as the baggage carousel behind him began to move. “Here come the bags,” he said, meeting her eyes again. “What does yours look like?”
Charli cleared her throat and pointed as her large suitcase came up over the rise. “There, the large purple one.”
“Ah!” he replied. “Hold this, would you?” He handed her the cardboard sign, then walked over to pull her bag off the belt.
As he set the suitcase upright and yanked up the telescoping handle, Charli couldn’t help but admire his ripped arms and strong hands. Hands said so much about a man in her opinion, and Jack’s told her a lot.
Charli squeezed her eyes shut. Drooling over the man sent to pick her up just a few minutes after meeting him was not a positive way to start on the island.
What the hell is wrong with you? Pull it together and focus, woman!
“Are you okay?” Jack asked. Charli’s eyes popped open to find his gaze on her face again, his brows drawn together.
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” She waved a hand in the air. “The weather is just so different. It was snowing in Boston when I left, so it’s taking me a minute to acclimate.”
He gave her another brilliant grin that left her tingling. “That’s understandable. But I’ll warn you—once you do acclimate, you’ll never want to leave.” He looked around the terminal. “Is there anything else, or are you ready?”
Charli gave him a polite smile. “I’m ready.”
* * * *
Jack led the way to the parking garage, glancing over his shoulder several times to make sure Charli was following him. She was quiet and somber for the most part, but he wouldn’t expect anything else from someone who had just lost a family member.
What he hadn’t expected was how beautiful she was in person.
The print out Theresa had given him didn’t do her justice, but it was good enough to easily spot her through the crowd.
Her custom tailored woolen business suit hugged her body and flattered every curve.
Her honey blonde hair had been in a tidy bun that just made him want to unravel it and run his hands through.
And once he had gotten close enough, he was nearly struck dumb by her eyes—deep purple with a fringe of dark lashes highlighted by the mascara and light shade of eyeshadow that she wore.