Wicked Gentleman Page 3

  “Personally, I think it’s all in the customer’s mind.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Tell me more.”

  “Quench the coldest beer in town. You tell enough people that and then it’s already in their minds, so when they actually take that first sip, they already believe it to be true.”

  “Preconceived notion.” He stated matter of fact. “You have a good mind for marketing, what are you doing caddying?”

  I laughed, and knotted my fingers together. “Yeah, well, I’ll give you the short version. I lost my assistant curator job at the Maritime Arts & History Museum due to lack of funding. But, I’m going to get it back. I have a good feeling.”

  “Good attitude, I like your confidence, Stevie. I have a feeling things will be looking up for you.”

  “Oh, turn right here. It’s just up ahead on the left.”

  “Near The Golden Dragon?”

  “Above the restaurant, actually.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You live above The Golden Dragon?”

  “I know it’s not much, but this was my grandmother’s place. She left it to me, and I rent out the spare room. It helps to keep up with maintenance and other things.” Again, I was offering up personal information to a complete stranger. I needed to learn to keep my mouth shut, before I rambled on about my possible theory that I suspected that Ruby was having a fling with Mr. Lin, the owner of the restaurant.

  He pulled into a parking space, and I felt my insides churning. Do I ask him if he’d like some gas money? Do I offer to buy him dinner? Or do I just thank him and say goodbye?

  “Let me help you with your bags,” he said, pointing to the backseat.

  “That’s okay,” I said weakly, and pulled on the door handle. “I can manage.”

  I stepped out, and lifted my purse higher onto my shoulder. Jax opened the back door and then handed me my shopping bags along with my tote bag.

  “Well, thank you for helping me and for the lift home.”

  “You’re welcome. Have a good night.”

  “Goodnight, Jax.” I turned, and staggered towards the wooden flight of stairs that led to my apartment. Once inside, I flipped on the light and then dropped my bags to the floor. From the kitchen window, I saw the glow from the car’s taillights, as he drove back down the alley.

  LAST NIGHT, I’D RECEIVED A call from my mom, who was in wonderful spirits. It was good to hear her sounding so happy. It filled me with an odd mixture of joy and sadness. I was glad she was on the mend, but that meant she’d have to go home and be around my father twenty-four seven. She was being discharged and I looked at the time wondering if he’d actually made it to the facility on time. Mom had told me he agreed to be there bright and early. I seriously had my doubts.

  On bare feet I shuffled over to the coffee maker and poured a mug, adding in a pinch of sugar. I rested my hip against the counter before taking my first sip. If only she’d divorce him then this long nightmare could finally be over and I would have her come live here with me.

  After taking a seat at the kitchen table, I wrote out a check for the gas company, stuffed it into the envelope, and placed a stamp on it. I popped open my laptop and proceeded to the Mae Net website, where I paid my student loan. Ouch, that hurt.

  Soon, I would get my job at the museum back or find something even better which would hopefully lead to me buying a beach bungalow. Mom could sit outside, enjoying the warm sunshine and sounds of the ocean. That would be healing therapy for anyone.

  Of course, I’d keep this apartment. With some much needed cosmetic updates, I could modernize it and then this place would the perfect seaside rental.

  It was all wishful thinking on my part because Mom would never leave the bastard. Hopefully he could stay sober for a few hours, at least long enough to get her home and settled. Second thoughts drove me to think of another solution. Maybe Tiffany could help me out and pick up mom today. That would involve me begging for forgiveness and probably signing away the naming rights to my first born.

  Pushing up from my chair, I then walked to the coffee maker for a refill. Dammit. Why didn’t Mom let me know sooner? I could have scheduled today as my day off and gone up to Kennesaw myself. Lifting up to my tiptoes, I reached for the box of Pop-Tarts and grabbed the last silver foil packet.

  I cradled the phone between my shoulder and my ear, and tore open the wrapper. “Hello, this is Stevie Brockman. Danielle Brockman is my mother. Could you tell me when she is scheduled to leave?”

  “Yes, Miss Brockman. She left early this morning.”

  “That’s good. Can you tell me who picked her up?” I asked, before popping a piece of my blueberry goodness into my mouth.

  “Her husband.”

  “Okay, thank you.” I ended the call and took another bite of my bad for me breakfast.

  Mentally prepping myself, I took a deep breath and then called my mom. I plastered a fake smile on my face. “Hey, Mom, are you settled and glad to be home?”

  “Yes, sugar,” she answered, her southern accent a bit raspy. “I’m home and everything is fine.”

  “I am glad to hear that. I would have driven home to pick you up though.”

  “Stevie, I told you. This is your time to shine. You don’t need to fuss over me.”

  “Dad.” I swallowed hard and started coughing. “He . . . helped you . . . get . . .”

  Some crumbs must have stuck in my throat. I downed my coffee and came up for air.

  “Stevie, are you okay? Take a drink of water.”

  My mom, always calm, even when I was gasping for breath. “I’m fine,” I said through a set of coughs. “Did Dad get your meds from the pharmacy?”

  “Yes, I told you everything is just fine. Now, according to my watch, you need to be at work soon. So scoot and have a wonderful day. I love you.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I’ll call again soon. Love you.” Hanging up with Mom, I tucked my phone inside my tote bag. I slipped my socks and shoes on and grabbed my keys off the counter. No time to brush my teeth again, I’d do that at work. It was almost ten a.m. and I needed to get to the bus stop.

  “Hey, girl.” I heard Megyn’s voice as she hopped up and onto the counter.

  “Morning, I’m off to work. You?”

  “I work at four today. Then I am going down to The Keys with Beau for a long weekend. Sun and fun.”

  “Ow ow,” I chirped, tossing my bag up onto my shoulder. “Things must be getting serious. You’ve kept this one around longer than a week.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Beau said, appearing from the shadows and tugging his white tee over his mass of blond hair. He kissed Megyn on the forehead and then pulled two mugs from the cabinet.

  I winked at Megyn, and she shrugged. My phone rang, it was an unrecognized number.

  “Oops, excuse me, I have to take this. You two have fun this weekend.” I stepped outside onto the porch, closing the door behind me. The screen door knocked into me, and I fumbled my phone, nearly dropping it. “Hello, this is Stevie Brockman.”

  “Miss Brockman this is Dawn at Maxwell’s Repair. Your car has been repaired, and we’re sending someone to deliver it to you. Is your address: 111 South Shore Drive, B?”

  “Yes, that is correct. Can you tell me what was wrong?” I held the phone tightly, waiting for the worst.

  “The computer chip failed and wasn’t able to communicate for your car to start.”

  I pressed my forehead against the wooden beam of my balcony, salty morning dew and humidity clogging my throat. My heart thumped at the realization this was going to be incredibly expensive. “Can you take a credit card over the phone?”

  “The bill has been taken care of, Miss Brockman.”

  “What? But, how?”

  “There’s a note on the account, apparently your company took care of everything. That was so nice of them.”

  “Yes, very nice. Do you have any more information?”

  “No, Miss, that’s all it says.”

  �
�Well, thank you, Dawn. Have a good day.”

  Puzzled, I sagged into the beach chair on the porch and waited for my car to arrive. Why would Hart Hotels Inc. pay for my car repairs? The only person that knew about my car was Jax and he was just a sales guy. What did he care?

  My cheeks heated. Fucking Cord. This was probably his way of trying to apologize and get back into my good graces. The sight of my car turning in from the alley put a smile on my face. I’d deal with Cord later. Right now, I had to get to work. Another mental pep talk and I refocused my emotions as I barreled down the stairs.

  Smiling, I taped up the picture of Mom and me from my graduation on the inside of my locker. I started to change into one of my new work uniforms. Today, I tossed on a pair of grey shorts with a hot pink sleeveless polo. After doing a quick check of hair and makeup, I shoved my stuff into my locker.

  “Hey, Stevie, are you in here?” I heard Abby’s sweet voice bouncing off the tile in the locker room. Abby was the lead caddy and a part-time graphic designer for a beverage company.

  “Yep. Over here at my locker.”

  She turned the corner carrying a huge vase filled with an assortment of flowers. I spotted white and pink roses, along with white lilies. I’d known from Gran’s funeral that flowers were expensive. This arrangement was at least a hundred dollars.

  “Wow, those are gorgeous. Who sent them to you?”

  She shook her head. “They’re not for me silly. They’re yours.”

  “What?”

  “Yep, look at the card, it says Miss Stevie Brockman. Do you have a secret admirer or a new boyfriend?”

  I shrugged, afraid to speak. She was right, I did have an admirer and he was a former boyfriend.

  She handed me the vase, and my gaze darted around the locker room for a safe place to set the flowers. The computer desk, that looked like a fine place. I pulled the card and pried open the envelope.

  Stevie,

  Despite your car troubles, and the unnecessary video training, I hope your first week at Hart Resort and Spa was a good one. –Jax

  Wow. That was it. That’s all it took for my insides to turn to liquid.

  “Girl, you are as pink as the sands of Musha Cay. Who sent you the flowers?”

  Was Miss Bubbly still here?

  “Oh, this guy I met the other night,” I said, folding the note and tucking it into my pocket. “He helped me with my car.”

  “He helped you out of jam and he’s sending you flowers? That seems backwards to me.”

  “I think he was just being kind.”

  “Still, you must have made some impression.”

  “Hardly, I’m sure these are just pity flowers. I was having a seriously tragic day.”

  She cocked one of her expertly manicured eyebrows. “Whatever you say, hot stuff.”

  The day went by crazy fast. Despite a ten minute downpour during one of the morning rounds, everything was ahead of schedule. My next assignment was a foursome of “big-wigs” so said our boss. Abby and I stood in the locker room as Carol instructed us to look our best. We re-touched up our makeup, brushed our hair and applied more sunblock.

  My mouth gaped at the sight of Cord and Jax entering the clubhouse. Fuck! They knew one another. Worse yet, were they friends? And still worse, close enough that they played a round of golf together on a Friday afternoon. No, Cord was the course pro, and Jax was in sales. This was clearly business.

  I spun around nearly knocking Abby over in the process. When I glanced over my shoulder at her, she said, “What’s going on with you?”

  “Can you be quiet, please,” I pleaded.

  “Okay, okay, don’t get your undies wedged up your ass.”

  I wrinkled my nose and pulled her behind the server’s station. “So, here’s the deal. One is my ex, and the other is the guy who sent the flowers.”

  She clasped her hands together. “That’s utterly fantastic.”

  “You would think that,” I groaned, feeling sick to my stomach.

  “Suck it up, S. You go out there and do your job, or you get fired. Your choice.”

  She had a point, and I needed the money. “Okay, I’m doing this.”

  “Which one is your ex? I’ll take him.”

  Neither man had noticed me yet, they were deep in conversation. Slyly, I pointed to Cord, and then we both made a bee line out of the clubhouse. Jax turned to greet another person and I heard Abby gasp.

  “Oh my God, he sent you the flowers?”

  “Yeah, why do you say it like that?”

  She shook her head. “How thoroughly did you read the employee handbook?”

  “I skimmed it, I’ve done all this before, you know. I don’t care much about Hart Hotels Inc., aside from the rules I need to follow to keep this job until I go back to the museum.”

  “That man, my clueless friend, is Jackson Hart. Does that name ring any bells?”

  “Shut the front fucking door.”

  “I bet you care a little bit more about Hart Hotels now.” She nudged my arm. “Jackson Hart sent you flowers.”

  Well, that was absolutely the last thing I expected. We stood just off the putting green, waiting along with the other two caddies. Narrowing my eyes, I saw both Jax and Cord round the corner from the Clubhouse and cross the cart path. I took a deep breath, and Abby squeezed my hand, mouthing the words, “You got this.”

  Desperately doesn’t even begin to cover how much I needed this job. And I’ll be damned if my personal life was going to interfere. What if I had taken Jax up on his offer the other night? My offer, according to him. What would have happened if I’d invited him up and then ripped off all his clothes and had my way with him?

  Jax pinned his dreamy blue eyes on me and all I could do was smile. He’d made me smile, again. I needed to pull it together. What was it about this guy?

  Once more, Abby nudged me. “S, your ex is watching, be careful.”

  “Right, okay, I’m good,” I whispered. “Mister Hart, I’m Stevie your caddy for the day.”

  “Stevie, yes, good to meet you.” His eyes bored into me, and I felt something pass between us.

  “Mister Robinson, I’m Abby,” she said, hurling her body in front of him. “It’s a pleasure to meet someone as talented as you.”

  Inside, I rolled my eyes. Squaring my shoulders, I put on my charming smile. This round could not end soon enough. Jackson Hart the owner and CEO of Hart Hotels sent me flowers. Damn. What were the chances?

  Here goes nothing.

  Abby handed me a bottle of water, as we walked towards the clubhouse. The game ended, and neither Jax . . . Jackson, nor Cord had won the round. How was I supposed to address the man?

  Across the way, I saw Jax talking to a woman wearing a cute sleeveless top with a black pleated skirt. She was tall, very thin, and her long blonde hair was neatly tied back into a low ponytail. She touched his arm in an intimate way, lingering a little too long.

  After we collected our daily tips, we went to the locker room. Somehow I managed to wrestle the hair tie from my tangled sweaty mass of blonde hair, pulling a few strands with it. I peeled out of my clothes and then tossed them into my laundry bag. Scooping up my tote, I made my way towards the showers.

  The water was slightly cool at first, as I ducked under the shower head. I let the spray run over me, stinging like icy needles. That was about all I could take before pushing the lever adding more hot water. The steam curled around me. I heard Abby humming some country tune as she ducked into the stall next to mine.

  I stayed in the shower until my skin was red and my fingertips were wilted. Abby had long gone. She was a rinse off and go kind of gal. Clearly, I was hiding out, but I had my reasons, I didn’t want Jax to see me when I questioned Cord about my car.

  Twenty minutes later, my hair was dried and my makeup reapplied. I shoved my legs into a pair of frayed jean shorts and tossed on a soft white t-shirt. Hurriedly I scooped up all my stuff, including my flowers and power walked to my car.

 
; I spotted Cord hanging out by the Pro Shop taking a drag off a cigarette. Perfect, he was alone. I went over what I knew in my head. Squaring my shoulders, I pulled my sunglasses from the top of my head and covered my eyes. I walked quickly through the parking lot, keeping my focus on the matter at hand. He spotted me, and slow grin spread across his face.

  “Cord, I need a word with you.”

  “Did you have a change of heart about that drink?”

  I shook my head. “We are over. Can you get that through your head?”

  He took a final puff and tossed the butt into the smoker’s pole. “Fine, what would you like to discuss? Perhaps you’d like a private lesson. I have superb skills, ya know. I could show you how to handle my club.”

  Asshat. “Nice, Cord. Real gentlemanly. Did you really think paying for my car repairs would get you in my pants?”

  “What car repairs?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Stop pretending. You know what you did. After I saw you the other day, my car broke down and I had to get a tow. When it was delivered this morning, the woman at the shop told me that the bill had been taken care of by my company.”

  “Stevie, baby, I swear I don’t know anything about this business with your car.”

  “Ughh, you’re impossible,” I huffed.

  I was halfway across the parking lot, when I saw him wave at me. “Stevie,” he called out and jogged up to me. I didn’t know what to do about the whole not recognizing him thing, so for the sake of not embarrassing him or myself I decided not to bring it up.

  “Hey, uh . . . good play today.”

  “Thanks. You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m all good,” I sighed.

  “I don’t believe you,” he said, flashing me that panty melting smile of his.

  “Okay, you got me. Thank you for the flowers, by the way.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re welcome. And I’m glad you got your car back in working order.”

  “Yeah, taking the bus was an adventure in timing.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “What can you tell me about the company paying for auto repairs? I know this sounds silly, but the bill was paid and they said the hotel took care of it. Is that like a perk?” I sounded ridiculous, or insane. So much for not making an ass of myself in front of the guy who owned the place.