Chapter 20 #2
Bronwyn set a brisk but maintainable pace. She wasn’t big into cardio. Or sweating. And she didn’t have Meredith’s sense of direction. She’d never go wandering around in the forest. She needed a trail, and the flatter, the better.
Even though she wasn’t a speedy hiker, she loved to be in nature. Despite the hours she put in at the office, she made time for a walk almost every day. The trail wasn’t long. The loop from her house to the path and back was about a mile. But that mile was a lifesaver.
She was crossing the bridge that marked the halfway point when she heard . . . something.
Then she heard it again. A rustle that didn’t sound natural. Was someone on the trail with her? Her heart rate increased and her breathing quickened. Was she being ridiculous? She was. Wasn’t she?
A moment later, what had been a faint noise turned into heavy footfalls behind her. Should she run? No. This was her trail. She was on her property. The only people here were guests and . . . staff.
A staff she no longer trusted.
But running . . . well . . . that wasn’t exactly her strong suit. She’d never outrun whoever was coming up behind her.
Instead, she got her phone out of her pocket and pulled up Landry’s contact info. She sent a text.
Please call me in 30 seconds. I’m walking the trail.
She maintained her pace and kept moving, even as the footsteps neared.
She stepped to the far side of the trail, came to a stop, and turned to face the newcomer.
The man behind her slowed, then smiled, then came to a complete stop when he reached her. “Good morning.”
“Morning.”
She recognized him. He’d come with a politician who was here for the week.
He was probably in his early forties. Good looking.
The little bit of hair he had was salt-and-pepper, leaning toward salt.
His muscles had muscles. He hadn’t gotten that body by running a one-mile walking path in the forest.
“You didn’t have to stop.” His smile was blindingly white and a shade too far on the side of predatory to calm her skittering nerves.
“I didn’t want to mess up your time. It sounded like you were on a quick pace.”
“I was. But I never pass up the opportunity to speak to a lovely woman.”
Did he think that made him sound charming? Because . . . ew. “Well, if you’ll excuse me . . .” She made it a point to walk away from him.
He jogged a few steps, then settled in beside her, which would have been annoying under any circumstances but was particularly off-putting because this trail was barely wide enough for two. It was best walked single file.
“I’m Bob.”
“Yes. I know who you are.” She knew the names and faces of every guest on the premises.
“Then you have me at a disadvantage because I don’t know you.”
Should she call him on the obvious lie? She decided to let it slide. “Bronwyn Pierce.”
“As in the Ms. Pierce who runs this place?”
“That would be me.”
“How do you like it?”
“Like what?”
“Running a resort for people who think they’re better than everyone else.”
What was this guy’s deal? She had no doubt that he was well compensated in his position. If he didn’t like working for snooty people, he could leave. No one was forcing him to stay in the job.
“I oversee an exclusive mountain getaway. In my experience, most of the guests who choose to come here don’t want anything more than to be left alone for a few days so they can recharge. I’m happy to give them the space to do that.”
“A very smooth answer.”
“Not my first rodeo, Bob.”
“I’m not trying to get you to gossip. I signed an NDA. I know the drill.”
Everyone who worked for a celebrity, athlete, politician, or as it so happened, The Haven signed a nondisclosure agreement. The NDAs varied in their specifics, but all of them were designed to keep people from blabbing about their employers.
For the most part, they worked well. There was always a risk that someone would be coerced into sharing things they shouldn’t, but given that the cost for breaking an NDA was exorbitant, most people behaved themselves.
“I’m just curious,” Bob said. “Seems like an isolated life here. I’m wondering why you stay.”
“It’s my home.” It was that simple and that profound.
“Huh.” She couldn’t tell if his response indicated doubt or surprise. She didn’t have long to consider it because he kept talking. “Do you have rules about dating guests?”
“Excuse me?” He couldn’t be serious. Could he?
“Are you allowed to date your guests?” He looked her straight in the eye and enunciated. “Because I’d love to get to know you better.”
While a part of her appreciated the blunt way he stated what he wanted, nothing about this man appealed to her. “Thank you, but I’m not interested.”
He cocked his head at her. “Not interested? Or not allowed?”
“Both.”
“Ouch.”
“I don’t play games.”
“Clearly you don’t.” He heaved a sigh. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. Guess I’ll see you around.” He gave her a big smile and jogged away. His jog turned into a full run as he moved out of sight.
“That was weird,” she muttered as she resumed her original pace.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to the interaction than what had been said on the surface.
She made a mental note to check up on Bob.
There had been something smarmy about him, and it left a bad taste in her mouth.
The annoyance at having her walk interrupted followed her home. So much for spending some time in nature to settle her mind and heart.
She was a hundred yards from her house when footsteps sounded on the path behind her.
Really? Again? Had Bob lapped her?
She turned and stopped in the middle of the path.
Mo gave her a salute as he ran past her and went to her front door, opened it, went inside for a few minutes, then returned and held the door for her as she jogged up the stairs of her porch.
He’d followed her. He’d probably been out there behind Bob. But, unlike Bob, he hadn’t interrupted her time. He hadn’t revealed his presence until she was home.
He’d protected her and given her the space she needed.
And . . . she didn’t know what she thought about that.
She didn’t have time to think more about it though.
She received four texts while she was in the shower, two calls while she was getting dressed, including a frantic one from Landry who had apparently just seen her earlier text, and an email with twenty—she counted them—exclamation marks while she did her hair and makeup.
She called her assistant as she walked into her kitchen to fill her water bottle. “June, I’m headed to Grandmother’s. Please hold all my calls unless it’s a true emergency.”
“Yes, ma’am. Good luck!” The last words had been whispered. June and Grandmother had a somewhat adversarial relationship. Grandmother thought June was too big for her britches. June thought Grandmother was a bully.
Both were wrong, and weirdly both were right.
Mo gave her that same salute but made no move to get up as she went to her garage.
She wasn’t surprised when she looked in her rearview mirror and saw a security car that followed her until she parked in the circular drive.
Grandmother’s home wasn’t technically on The Haven property, but it could be accessed through a private gated entrance. Since the first visitor stayed on the premises, Grandmother had benefited from room service, housekeeping, security, and pretty much every perk of being a guest at The Haven.
And she took full advantage.
Bronwyn smiled at the maid who held the door for her. “Ms. Pierce, your grandmother is sitting by the fireplace. She asked for you to join her there.”
“Thank you.”
She walked in to find her grandmother dressed like she was headed out for a business meeting, hair and makeup perfect, sitting by the fire with a blanket over her lap. A tray of tiny sandwiches rested on the table in front of her.
“Good morning, Grandmother.”
“Your father told me you destroyed your office yesterday.”
Bronwyn ignored the disapproving tone and kissed the papery skin of her grandmother’s cheek.
“Yes. Can you tell me about the stain on the floor? We pulled the carpet up. It looks like a bloodstain, but surely that’s not what it is.”
Before Grandmother could respond, a different maid entered the room. “Would you care for a beverage, Ms. Pierce?”
“Tea would be lovely. Thank you.” The maid nodded and left as quietly as she’d come.
“We had that room carpeted for a reason, young lady.” Grandmother’s hand moved restlessly on the arm of the chair.
“Was it blood?”
“Of course not.”
“Then—”
“It’s red wine.”
Bronwyn waited, but Grandmother didn’t elaborate. “We’re going to sand it out or maybe replace that part of the floor if necessary. And I’m going to have gorgeous hardwoods instead of carpet.”
“Mistake.”
Bronwyn pointed to the rich, gleaming floors around them. “How so?”
“Hardwood floors are lovely, but you want the padding and sound dampening of a carpet for your office. You’ll hear every sound. It will echo around the room. Like I said, a mistake.”
“Sorry, Grandmother. It’s too late to put the carpet back. We’ve moved everything out of the room except my desk. Cal Shaw is going to build me a new desk. He’s sending me a few sketches this weekend.”
At the mention of Cal, her grandmother’s expression went from displeased to angry.
“I told you not to associate with the Quinns.”
“Technically, Cal—”
“Don’t try that with me. He’s a Shaw and a Quinn.”
Bronwyn made a mental note to tell Cal that her grandmother didn’t like him, after all.
“Grandmother, the Quinns are lovely people.” It was an old argument, but one she would keep having. “They’ve never been anything but kind to me.” Far kinder than her own blood.
“Kindness? Is that what you want out of life? For people to be kind to you? Granddaughter, I hate to point this out, but the real world doesn’t run on kindness.”
Bronwyn selected a sandwich and studied the filling. Chicken salad. Her favorite. She took a bite and swallowed.
“Grandmother, I hate to point this out, but I learned about the real world a long time ago.” Before her grandmother could speak, she added, “Thank you for the chicken salad. It’s delicious.”
Grandmother waved away her thanks. “You’re the only one of my grandchildren who will have anything to do with me. I think you only come around for the food.”
“Now, Grandmother, is it possible you’ve failed to invite your other grandchildren for luncheon?”
“No, it is not. I invited Nathan last week. He declined—declined!—without any explanation at all.”
That was . . . not normal. Nathan had a black belt in brownnosing. Grandmother’s will was going to make things interesting for everyone. No way Nathan would pass up an opportunity to schmooze Grandmother.
“I asked William if there was a problem, and he told me Nathan has been swamped at work.” At this, her grandmother cut her eyes to Bronwyn and shook her head. “You and I both know that isn’t true.”
Bronwyn held her grandmother’s gaze but didn’t flinch.
Grandmother sipped her tea.
“Are you going to eat?” Bronwyn asked.
“No.” Simple. To the point. “I’m dying, Bronwyn.
The doctor says I only have a couple of weeks to live.
” She stared at her teacup. “I don’t have time to squander.
I won’t let anyone destroy what we built here.
” She waved a hand around the room, but Bronwyn knew she meant The Haven.
“My own children and grandchildren have done their best to make a mess of things, but here it stands. And it will continue. It must.”
She focused on Bronwyn, and just like that, Bronwyn was ten again, sitting at the dining room table getting an etiquette lesson. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ve done all I can do on my end. It’s up to you now.” She sniffed. “But I don’t like having the Quinns involved in our personal matters.”
“Grandmother—”
“Enough of that. Finish your lunch. You need to get back to work.”
Bronwyn dutifully took another bite. And then another. By the third bite, her grandmother was asleep.
What had she meant by done all she could?
Knowing her grandmother, it would look pretty, but it would be deadly.