Chapter Seven
BARRETT WAS USED TOhis role as a silent observer.
But the next day as he sat in Kennedy’s office—the place was furnished as if dressed to impress—with Zoey, her father, and her cousin, he had difficulty remaining impartial.
His gaze kept returning to Zoey. Her lower lip trembled, and her fingers, each with different colors of polish and painted flowers and birds, tapped a staccato beat—probably in rhythm with his heart—on the mahogany table. Her clear distress tugged at him. He had to force himself to stay seated instead of getting up, walking over, and hugging her.
He schooled his features to stay neutral. The results of his investigations—and sometimes his clients’ lives—often depended on his ability to remain cool and collected. And now the stakes were higher than ever because he couldn’t even imagine anything happening to Zoey.
He turned to Kennedy. “Let’s discuss the security at your house.”
“It’s up to par since the time I lived there. There are no guarantees in life, of course, but I’d say it’s safe enough there. As long as you don’t go outside, cuz. Better stay away from the balcony, as well.”
“Wait.” Zoey jolted in her chair and her tapping fingers stilled. “I can’t even go outside? Did I just get myself into a golden cage? Or what is it, platinum?” She bit into her lower lip.
The gesture drew his attention to her lovely mouth that carried a faint scent of French vanilla lip gloss and evoked thoughts of kissing her. So not a good idea, especially after his hasty declaration that he’d never repeat the error of falling for a client. But between his growing attraction and Zoey’s safety, her safety was way more important. It was a no-brainer.
Too bad knowing that didn’t diminish the longing. Why couldn’t his heart choose a different woman?
Because there was nobody like Zoey.
Mr. Crawford sent his daughter an apologetic, sad glance. “I’m sorry, darling. We so wanted you to be happy here, to show how much we love you and how much we missed you. Not...” He swallowed visibly. His wrinkled hand with a personalized diamond-encrusted watch shook as he lifted a water glass. “Not this. Plus, it’s time for me to retire. I’ve long been dreaming of having you and Kennedy take over.”
Zoey paled. “Hold on. I’m only here for a visit. Which, by the looks of it, I might have to cut short before someone else cuts it short. I’m not ready to take over your...” She made a sweeping gesture. “I don’t know, hotel empire.”
Something cold squeezed Barrett’s chest, and then his fingers tightened around the conference table’s sharp edge. He unclenched them one by one. It was a sweet torture to have her so close he could reach out and touch her, could lean in and breathe the same air she did, but also have her be off-limits.
To see her leave... would be gut-wrenching.
“I’d be glad to teach you the ropes of the family business, though we’d never force you into anything you don’t want to try. Of course, we wouldn’t stop you from leaving. But if you can, please stay for a while. We... we did miss you. I’m sorry if this visit puts you in danger, but we can protect you better here than in Europe.” Kennedy’s gaze sharpened. “Much, much better.”
Hmm. Kennedy always had a good head on her shoulders, and she also made Austin happy, which made her outstanding in Barrett’s book. But not as outstanding as her cousin.
Mr. Crawford’s fist landed on the mahogany table, rattling the glasses and making Zoey flinch. “If Gerald causes anything to happen to you...”
Kennedy patted his hand, her expression unchanging even in this moment. Neither had she winced like Zoey did. “We don’t know if he’s behind the murder. But I’ll put feelers out about him. I’ll have people shadow him. I’ll know about everyone he talks to. If as much as a mosquito lands on him, I’ll know at what time and whether the insect enjoyed the lunch and got away with it. Gerald likes to golf. He doesn’t yet know I’ll be joining him tomorrow. And guess who’s going to be sitting at lunch opposite from him at his favorite restaurant? He plays chess in New York with friends several times a month. Or goes to an art exhibition there. I’ll have someone fly there and trail him. If he was involved in what happened to Nora King, I’ll know it eventually. We’ll make him regret it.” Kennedy didn’t raise her voice, and her face was relaxed as if she talked about the canapés for a snack.
Barrett wouldn’t want to be a person who threatened her. He leaned forward. “I’ll leave trailing Gerald to you and... and your people. What can you tell me about Zachary Reed, the second competitor you have now?”
Kennedy frowned. “He did well for himself. More interestingly, his wife and two daughters are high spenders. Neither of them work outside the house, but they enjoy a lavish lifestyle and high-cost vacations. It probably doesn’t help that both daughters have husbands who share common interests with them.”
Zoey raised an eyebrow. “You mean, the husbands love a lavish lifestyle and high-cost vacations but don’t have jobs?”
“You’re catching on.” Kennedy’s lips tipped up a little, and she drank some of her water.
Crossing his arms on the table, Barrett cleared his throat. “I heard Zachary Reed used some of his business as collateral to get loans to pay for his family’s debts.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “Oh. I didn’t know that. I should have.”
“I keep my ear to the ground,” he said modestly.
“So do I.” A line marring her forehead, she whirled her golden fountain pen in her slender fingers, their immaculate pearl-white polish clicking against its smooth surface. “Then he must be doubly interested in this lucrative deal.”
Barrett nodded. “Zachary Reed, his wife, daughters, and their husbands. That’s a lot of pressure on the man. I imagine they’d all want him to continue to finance their lifestyle. I’ll dig deeper and see what I can find about all of them.”
Mr. Crawford studied his niece. “Do you need any help with Gerald?”
Kennedy patted her uncle’s hand again, her gaze softening with deep affection. Not that Barrett had the right to complain because that deep affection had caused her to propose to Austin and led to Barrett’s brother’s happiness. And now Kennedy and Austin were expecting a baby. “No. Please concentrate on feeling better and spending time with Zoey. I’ve got this. And I’ll close the deal soon enough.”
“I have no doubt, darling.” With deep affection, the gentleman smiled at his niece, and then his gaze moved to his daughter. That gaze dimmed and darkened. “The deal worries me much less than Zoey’s safety, though.”
The sunshine filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows hugged by gold curtains to illuminate Zoey’s lovely face, illuminating the simple truth inside Barrett, as well. He could fall for her so easily if he wasn’t careful.
Even if he wasn’t her bodyguard now, she evoked his protective feelings. She seemed unspoiled by this world, with those eyes of a newborn fawn, and more tenderness unraveled.
He sensed inner strength in her, as well. After all, she hadn’t skedaddled after realizing she might be in danger. No, instead, she’d stayed to investigate.
The knock on the conference room door made him tense, but Kennedy said, “I asked my assistant to bring a platter of fruits and pastries.” Louder, she said, “Come in, Mason.”
Mason entered and placed a tray on the table. The aromas of papaya, melon, and oranges tinted the air. Kennedy’s lanky assistant didn’t say a word. But what his eyes behind thick glasses said spoke volumes. Based on Mason’s admiring glance at Kennedy, he put his boss on a pedestal. But when he glanced at Zoey, that expression tightened, changing to the opposite. The guy might not even know Zoey, yet he highly disliked her.
Hmm. Mr. Crawford once lavished all his love and attention on his niece. But now it switched to Zoey. Kennedy didn’t seem to mind, but her assistant appeared to. And Zoey’s appearance might threaten Kennedy’s hold on the family business.
“Thank you, Mason.” Kennedy nodded to him.
The tall young man in a charcoal suit left as quietly as he’d come in.
Picking up a melon cube, Zoey looked at her cousin. “Anything I can do to help? You know, besides sitting under lock and key.”
“Darling, just pay attention to your surroundings and tolerate all the safety measures.” Mr. Crawford’s white eyebrows moved together. “I’d love for us to walk on the beach, but we don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Barrett studied the man. Was he sincere? Barrett had seen so many people hide their true feelings. It appeared that he’d welcomed his daughter with open arms. But this man loved his niece, had practically raised her, and was now counting on her to continue the legacy he’d worked so long and hard for.
Barrett’s chest muscles tightened. Zoey could be a threat to Kennedy, could potentially overtake everything and ruin it, run it into the ground. And the threat was usually easier to deal with sooner than later and from up close.
Could the danger to Zoey be coming from the inside?
A lump formed in Zoey’s throat, but she pushed several papaya cubes past it. As out of place as she felt in this opulent conference room, she couldn’t exactly skip the meeting where her safety was discussed.
Kennedy’s mouth smothered with pearl lipstick tightened, and she readjusted her sophisticated updo. “Now, the question of the charity gala next week. We modeled it after the one my brother-in-law organizes every year. There will be an art auction there, as well. The proceeds will go to the women’s shelter as well as pay for medical treatments in Port Sunshine’s hospital for people who can’t afford it.”
She selected an orange slice but didn’t bring it to her mouth, just frowned at it. “Preparations started eight months ago when we didn’t know you’d be coming here. We’ve already paid deposits for catering, security, waitstaff, and a world-renowned orchestra from New York.”
Zoey blinked. “Wow. Are the security workers and waitstaff from New York, as well?”
“No, just the orchestra. All invitations went out months ago. We also have a celebrity singer arriving, so we need to make sure he gets the type of crab he likes for dinner.”
She blinked again. “The type of what?”
“Crab. Some celebrities can be very picky with their food. This one is convinced that the local seafood tastes different somehow, so insists I have it flown live from Florida.”
“Wow.” Zoey couldn’t help repeating it. She was just happy with bread and butter.
“We’ll be using one of our hotels as the venue, so that makes some things easier.” They definitely didn’t need to get things any more complicated. Then an unspoken apology softened Kennedy’s voice. “I understand that, in light of current events, attracting a crowd isn’t ideal.”
Was she implying Zoey was a nuisance?
Irked, she hiked her chin and waved off her cousin’s concerns, nearly sending the papaya on her fork halfway across the room. “Don’t change your plans on my behalf.” She had the invitation, of course, but until now, she planned to skip it. She’d never liked crowds.
Her father shifted toward her. “You don’t have to attend if you don’t want to. Or if it affects your safety.”
That irked her even more. She was a grown-up woman who made her own decisions. Yet, her mother had done her best to subtly and sometimes not so subtly direct Zoey’s actions. Enough was enough. She didn’t need her father to see her as a helpless girl. And much less Barrett. Her gaze landed on him. He was watching her, and her heart jolted at that.
Of course, he watched her because she was a client and not because he liked her. She’d be a fool to think otherwise. She looked away.
“I’d love to attend the gala and donate a tapestry to the auction.” She hiked her chin even higher. “Everyone will be wearing masks, right? So nobody will know I’m there.”
“Thank you for your donation.” Kennedy smiled, but her gray eyes were slightly glazed and unfocused. She probably hadn’t made a decision yet. “But if you bid at the auction, we ask that bidders take off their masks.”
Barrett cleared his throat again. “Word on the street is that the new heiress will be there.”
A sense of betrayal twisted her stomach. Was that why she was invited? To draw to the event? And she’d just walked into that trap. But it was too late to backtrack again. Besides, this was for charity, which was kind of Kennedy to do. The least Zoey could do was show up.
Worry clouded her father’s gray eyes. “I’d never want to jeopardize your safety.”
Zoey moved her gaze to Kennedy fast. Would she see jealousy if she caught it in time? Zoey was encroaching on the place Kennedy occupied her entire life and worked nonstop to earn.
But Kennedy’s eyes didn’t reveal anything. Zoey must be the only person in the room who had everything written on her face.
“We’ll have additional security,” Kennedy said fast.
Way too fast?
“Of course, I’ll be glad to be your escort to the gala if you’re okay with it.” Barrett’s neck pinked.
Was he blushing?
Zoey’s temperature kicked up a notch at the image of him in a tuxedo, standing side by side with her. There’d be dancing too, right, considering they’d brought in a world-renowned orchestra and a celebrity with taste in particular seafood.
She’d have to fan herself, especially if a fan came with the dress. “That would be... would be nice,” she squeaked. Nice didn’t come close to it, but she couldn’t come up with a different word without showing her true feelings.
“Are you sure?” Her father didn’t look convinced.
Zoey’s lips pursed. No doubt, he’d never ask his niece that question because Kennedy always seemed to be sure. “Yes.” She side-eyed Barrett. Would he be excited to accompany her, or was it just a job to him?
Once again, his expression was stony, and once again, she missed the cowboy with laughing eyes. Then, she’d thought he liked her. Now, most likely she was just a job.
Yet, as pathetic as it was, her heart shifted at the thought of dancing in his arms. She wasn’t accustomed to wearing evening gowns and expensive high heels, but it seemed like a small price to pay to sway to music with him. And as much as she loved her peasant blouses and simple long skirts, she wouldn’t mind an excuse to dress up for him once.
Oops. She’d been gawking at him. Stiffening in her seat, she faced her father again. She didn’t come here to fall in love. She’d best remember that.
Then again, she didn’t come here to get killed, either. She sweetened the bitter thought with more papaya. Barrett reached for some orange slices at the same moment, and their hands touched. Heat rose inside her as she jerked her hand back.
“Go ahead.” His breathing quickened.
Good. So he wasn’t made of stone. She popped more fruit in her mouth, welcoming the sweet taste but wishing she could touch his hand instead of withdrawing hers.
“Please be careful.” Doubt still dimmed her father’s eyes, but then he turned to his niece. “Is Sofia Rossi still coming? I loved the way she acted in the new movie. And by the looks of it, the audience agreed with me.”
“Yes, she is.” Kennedy smirked like a cat who’d just gotten a fish. But this time, the fish wasn’t Zoey. “Besides the great publicity, it’s rumored she’s going to play the main role in a movie based on a bestselling romantic novel by Jessie Gussman. The hero is to be played by a popular Hollywood heartthrob, Todd O’Malley. The setting is in a small coastal town.”
It dawned on Zoey. “You hope they’ll film in Port Sunshine.”
“Bingo.” Kennedy’s lips curved up. “We can provide great accommodation for the crew. Not to mention, it would be fantastic for publicity. Sofia Rossi and Todd O’Malley’s social media following is astonishing. And it’s getting bigger and bigger after the rumors of them dating.” She looked like she’d gotten an even larger fish now.
No, rather a rare Florida crab.
Had her cousin and father duped her? “So is this gala about charity or profit?”
“It can be both.” Kennedy lifted her hand in a defensive gesture, which her cousin probably wasn’t accustomed to. “When we started this project, we didn’t know about the possible filming. Even after Todd O’Malley and Sofia Rossi’s visit, getting the producers and directors to decide to film here is only a slim possibility.”
But if Kennedy put her mind to it, that slim possibility could become a well-fed reality. Zoey didn’t doubt it but also had enough sense not to say it out loud. Maybe her family’s ways were rubbing off on her.
Her phone beeped an incoming text in her pocket, and she ignored it. It beeped again.
“It’s fine if you get that. Might be important,” her father said.
Generous of him, considering one minute of his time could be worth more than her monthly income. Again, she had enough sense not to say that out loud. Her tongue didn’t drip with sarcasm even if her mind did.
“I doubt it’s important because all the people I talk to here are already in this room.” Nevertheless, she pulled her phone out of her pocket.
The text was from an unknown number, and once she opened it, her eyes widened.
Leave while you can.
Was it a threat or a warning from someone who knew much more than she did?