Chapter 9
NINE
Grant
“Let’s go over the game plan one last time,” Cara says.
She’s standing in the kitchen looking at the apple crumble pie she’s baked for the party. One for Ms. Miller and the other for guests.
“Yes, boss.”
Cara looks over her shoulder and gives me a pointed stare. I can’t help but chuckle as I walk around the island to where she is.
She’s been every bit the serious woman I had gotten to know during our run-ins. It doesn’t help that I can’t be in her proximity without my cock reacting.
“I’m serious.”
“I know, but we have the plan down.”
“Okay, so tell me it.”
She stacks the now-covered pies and slips them into the same case we had used earlier in the week. We got to meet the other neighbors surrounding us as planned.
“We’re arriving fifteen minutes late on purpose. We’ll find Brad and Noelle, who will be on time. We’ll put the pie down with the other dishes and then go and find this elusive Ms. Miller.”
Cara nods along as she walks past me and toward the living room. I follow behind, like I’ve been doing a lot lately.
“After meeting Ms. Miller, we’ll say hello to the neighbors we’ve met who are also coming. Meet a few new faces, and then I’ll corner Brad.”
“We need to get into that casino.”
“As friendlies.”
“Right.”
Cara sets down the pie bag on the entryway table and looks around the room. She swishes her shoulders excitedly in triumph for spotting her wedges.
Picking them up, she sits down on the couch and starts to put them on.
“It was a good catch during our surveillance.”
“An easy spot. You probably would have too.”
“True…”
Cara peers over her shoulder and smiles.
“Eventually,” she teases.
“Ouch, you wound me,” I say with a hand over my heart.
She lets out a light laugh as she finishes buckling the last shoe.
“An underground casino for the wealthy. Makes sense they finally made it official.”
“Yeah, you mentioned last time it wasn’t under the Carolinas mafia, right?”
“Right. Well, not officially. Not like this.”
“It’s been some time. Makes sense with all the expansion into different trades they’ve been getting into the past couple of years.”
Cara gets up and walks over to where I’m waiting with the pies in hand.
“Ready?” she asks.
“Ready.”
Ms. Miller’s house is one of the largest in the neighborhood, potentially the most acreage, at least with the size of this backyard.
I laugh to myself. Calling this a backyard doesn’t do it justice.
The back gate was left open for guests to enter through. There are dozens of people dressed like they all just came out of a catalog. With bright colors everywhere, it’s as if they match the tropical greenery of the yard.
It’s flawless.
“Are you thinking what I am?” Cara asks as we simultaneously spot a large spread of food.
We both start walking in that direction to set down the pie, a gesture for the party that won’t go unnoticed as the two outsiders here.
“Brad and Noelle are over there,” I whisper.
Cara’s eyes dart over to where I’m subtly gesturing. She spots them talking to one of the neighbors we brought a pie over to earlier this week, Fred. He’s a single man who lives in a house that looks to be the same model as ours.
“Let’s go,” she says.
We walk across the wooden deck and down the other set of steps. Brad spots us and waves us over. Cara gives him one of her breathtaking smiles, and a sting of jealousy courses through me.
I pause to compose myself. There’s nothing to be jealous of because Cara isn’t mine.
“You okay?” she whispers as we continue forward.
“All good.”
I keep hold of the last pie as we close the remaining distance.
Who would have guessed I would be thinking about pies this much? Certainly not me in this lifetime.
“Hey there!” Cara beams.
“Hi!” Noelle responds as she gives Cara a side hug. They step to the side and start chatting about how our move-in is going.
“Good to see you could make it,” Brad says.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
He looks over to Fred.
“Have you had a chance to meet Ace yet?”
“Earlier this week,” he answers before turning his attention to me.
“Is that one of your wife’s pies?”
“It is,” I say, showcasing it.
“What I wouldn’t give for another taste of your wife’s pie.” He flashes me a smug smile.
I clear my throat and clench my jaw.
Cara isn’t baking pies for him anymore.
“This one is for Ms. Miller. Anyone know where she is?” I say loud enough to get Noelle and Cara’s attention.
“Brad, sweetie, why don’t you take them to her?” Noelle says.
Her tone said everything we needed it to; Noelle isn’t comfortable around Ms. Miller, and I think it’s because she’s the Kingpin of Charlotte. The one who’s closest to the Marlin’s operations locally.
Brad’s face falls briefly, but he quickly collects himself.
“Right this way. Last time I saw her, she was inside with some of the other guests.”
Brad doesn’t wait for either of us to answer as he turns on his heels and starts going up the stairs.
“We’ll be back,” Cara says.
“See you soon!” Noelle answers.
Cara holds onto one of my arms as we follow behind Brad up the deck and into Ms. Miller’s home.
“We’ve got this,” Cara says.
“I know.”
Cara tries to examine my expression for any sign of discomfort, but what she needs to realize is this has been my job for almost thirty years. I’ll never let her see any of that.
I’m not nervous to meet this Ms. Miller character. The comment Fred made is really irritating me instead.
What was that about? Testing me. He must be someone in the mafia or related to think he could make a comment like that to me, and I would stand down.
The chances are that he is just a prick with a small dick, but it’s possible he’s something more in the operation. I’ll have to investigate him further after this. I can’t let my complicated feelings for my partner disrupt any part of the plan.
“She’s right over here,” Brad says.
In the corner across the formal living room, near a set of closed double wooden doors, is the elusive Ms. Miller.
It has to be.
Surrounded by what are clearly her guards, she’s engaging with a couple who looks like they probably live in our neighborhood.
She’s a fit woman, proudly showcasing her physique in a pair of tiny white shorts and a tank top. With her long, billowing blonde and gray hair, I’d guess she’s in her fifties, most likely.
What I don’t spot is a companion of any kind nearby. She’s been introduced to us as Miss and not Mrs. Miller, which could suggest she’s single or has a partner but isn’t married.
It could go either way if my theory is correct about who she really is.
Brad tilts his head forward, encouraging us to come up to where he stands. I adjust the pie bag in my hands as Cara’s grip tightens on my arm.
“Here we go,” she says through a strained smile.
Brad focuses his attention on Ms. Miller, who has realized that he’s waiting outside of her guarded perimeter. She looks around and notices that Cara and I are standing with him as well.
“Bradley! Come in here,” she exclaims.
I watch as she says her goodbye to the other couple before they step out of the area and disappear entirely.
“And who might you have with you?” she asks as we all step into her space.
“Ms. Miller, this is Ace and Cara Weston, my new neighbors,” Brad says.
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Cara says.
“Isn’t this wonderful! The pleasure is all mine. I’m Cordelia Miller. Welcome to the neighborhood,” Cordelia says with her arms extended.
Cara and Cordelia share a cautious hug as if this were any other set of neighbors meeting for the first time.
As they pull away, Cordelia gets a twinkle in her eye as she turns her attention my way.
“And it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ace,” she says with her hand extended. I pass our pie bag to Cara and then take her hand immediately, giving it a firm shake.
Cordelia looks pleased with this development. It’s almost as if Brad had told her who I was and that I would be moving to Charlotte soon.
I’m making some assumptions, but it feels as if our plans are falling into place.
The way that Cordelia is eyeing me isn’t one of seduction but appraisal. I’m almost positive that she’s the Kingpin of Charlotte that Cara has been trying to track down.
“Thank you for the invitation to attend. We brought you one of my famous pies,” Cara says.
Cordelia doesn’t look back over to Cara.
“Well, isn’t that the sweetest, sugar. Thank you.”
Cordelia lets go of my hand and leans back to whisper something to one of her guards. He takes the pie bag out of Cara’s hands.
“What would you like to drink? Drew here can grab us a round.”
“Whatever you’re having,” Cara says.
“Sugar, you like a whiskey neat?”
Cordelia may have had plastic surgery to try and hide her age, but I can see the hint of exhaustion and boredom in her eyes.
“Love it.”
“I’ll be damned. Four whiskeys, Drew.”
“Coming right up.”
Drew heads toward the bar, and someone else immediately steps in to fill the half circle around Cordelia.
“How are y’all settling into the neighborhood?”
“It’s breathtaking,” Cara answers.
“It really is. One of a kind neighborhood. We’re all…” Cordelia trails off before looking over to Brad.
“Like a family.”
“That’s exactly what we want. I’m so glad that Ace was able to find us a home here,” Cara says.
“Then you’ll fit right in. Either you fit into the Rippling River community, or you don’t. I hate to be frank about that, but it is what it is.”
“Hopefully we will,” Cara says while keeping her smile firmly intact.
It’s almost disturbing how Cara is able to keep this fake smile in place. If she weren’t a practiced spy, I would be alarmed at how well she’s playing this role.
“Ace, I hear you and Bradley go way back.”
“We do.”
Cordelia studies me once again.
“Good. A friend of Bradley’s is always a friend of mine.”
“I hope I won’t let you down.”
“I have a feeling you won’t. I tend to be right about people.”
Drew appears and hands Cordelia her drink first before handing the rest of ours out. Cara, Brad, and I all share our thanks.