Exposed: Her Undercover Millionaire Page 2
Maybe by getting closer to Ms. Adams he would uncover the nefarious practices he suspected were driving the success of Hannah’s Hope. And in the process he could finally bury its founder, Rafe Cameron.
If Brandon hadn’t chosen to stay on the family ranch despite his father’s failing health, Rafe may have never pulled off the very hostile takeover of Worth Industries, the manufacturing company that had been in his family for generations. Rumors were flying that Rafe planned to shut down the factory and sell it off in pieces, which would put more than half the city of Vista del Mar out of work and devastate the community. Brandon couldn’t help feeling personally responsible. He let his bitterness toward his father overshadow his obligation to his hometown, to his legacy. Now he was determined to make amends.
Through Hannah’s Hope, he planned to expose Rafe for the swindler that he was. Unfortunately, the volunteer he’d been working with the past couple of months knew virtually nothing about the inner workings of the charity. And he’d been careful to keep his distance from the Hannah’s Hope office, for fear that his sister, Emma, who was on the board, might make a surprise appearance. He hadn’t changed so much in fifteen years that his own sibling wouldn’t recognize him.
Paige Adams could be his ace in the hole.
Paige emerged from the building, extracting a pair of designer sunglasses from a designer bag and sliding them on. She sure had a thing for labels.
He didn’t usually go for the corporate type, but she couldn’t be any worse than his gold-digging, soul-sucking, vampire of an ex-fiancée. And when they shook hands there were so many sparks flying he thought for sure the surface of her pristine desk would ignite.
He had the sneaking suspicion that beneath the designer suit and polished persona there was a wild woman lurking there, just itching to break free. And he would be more than happy to lend a hand. To run his fingers through her pale blond, upswept hair and mess it up a little. To kiss away that flawlessly applied lipstick.
He clearly made her nervous, a fact he would use to his advantage.
She spotted him leaning against the truck and strode over. She knew exactly where she was going, and how she planned to get there.
He grinned. They would just see about that.
As she approached, he opened the passenger door and gestured her inside. “Hop in.”
She stopped abruptly, blinking behind her shades. “Oh, um, I thought we would meet there.”
“No point in wasting gas if we’re both going to the same place. Besides, parking is a pain this time of day.”
She hesitated. Maybe she assumed because he couldn’t read well, he was also a poor driver. Or maybe she just preferred to be in control. It made sense that anyone as well put together as Ms. Adams had to have at least a few control issues.
He flashed his most charming smile. “Don’t you trust me?”
He could see her brain working to summon a response that wouldn’t offend or alienate the foundation’s star pupil. Then she peeked inside the truck. He wasn’t sure what she thought she might find in there. Or maybe she worried she would dirty her designer clothes. The suit alone must have set her back at least a week’s pay. Or maybe she was a trust-fund girl. The kind with a daddy who catered to her every whim, bought her everything her greedy little heart desired. He’d met his share of those at boarding school.
“I’ll get you back in one piece,” he said. “I promise.”
Finally, she nodded and stepped past him to climb up. Quite a feat in her high heels, so he cupped her elbow to give her a boost, which gave him an awfully nice view of her nylon-clad thigh and—hello—was that a garter? Ms. Adams was an old-fashioned girl.
“Buckle up,” he said before he shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side. He got in and grabbed his own thrift-store sunglasses from the dash and put them on. Though he wasn’t normally into labels, he did miss his Ray-Bans. “Where to?”
“The rental establishment is just a few blocks from here, off Vista Way,” she said, looking even more on edge than she had in her office. “Do you know where that is?”
“Sure do.” Though he hadn’t lived in Vista del Mar since he was fifteen, when his dad sent him away to boarding school, he’d been in town long enough to relearn the area. Not much had changed. He backed out of the parking spot and maneuvered out of the lot into the heavy afternoon traffic. Paige sat awkwardly at the opposite end of the bench, spine stiff, nails digging into the edge of the seat.
He looked out the side window to hide a wry grin.
She was clearly the kind of woman who thrived on order and discipline. Being in control. And maybe it was a little depraved, but as he was pumping her for information, he just might have a little fun knocking her world off its axis.
Two
For a man who spent his time isolated from the world taking care of horses, Brandon sure did have a way with people.
The store she took him to for the fitting had recently opened, and Paige had been wanting to try it out, but twelve minutes after they walked through the door she knew she wouldn’t be coming back. The salesperson, a dour-looking older woman with a perpetual frown, was on the phone when they walked in and didn’t even acknowledge them. Five minutes later, when she did finally hang up, she went directly into the back room, still with no acknowledgment that they were even there, and didn’t come back out for another seven minutes.
When she finally approached them she was snooty and condescending and looked down her nose at Brandon. If that wasn’t bad enough, she actually rolled her eyes when Paige told her they were on a budget and wanted to see the bargain rack.
She was so rude that Paige had half a mind to walk out and take their business elsewhere. But after a few minutes of Brandon’s teasing and flirting, he had the woman giggling and blushing like a schoolgirl. It was truly fascinating to watch. And though Paige wouldn’t have believed it possible, when he mentioned the tux was for a charitable event, she even offered to upgrade him to a more expensive brand for no extra cost. Then Brandon mentioned that Paige was an event planner and the woman must have seen potential future revenue. She became friendly to the point of being sticky sweet. Paige doubted she would ever return, though. Having a salesperson treat her clients rudely, even for five minutes, reflected badly on her company. It was a chance she couldn’t take.
“So, that was an interesting experience,” Brandon said when they were in the truck and on the way back to her office.
“I should apologize. I’ve never used that store before. And I never will again.”
“Why not?”
“After the way she treated us when we came in? It was totally unprofessional. And I don’t understand how you could be nice to her when she was so condescending.”
He shrugged. “I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was really busy. Or maybe she was just having a bad day and needed someone to cheer her up.”
“That’s still no excuse to be rude to people.”
He glanced over at her. “You can’t tell me you’ve never had a bad day. Never snapped at someone who maybe didn’t deserve it.”
“Never a client.”
“Well, you’re a better person than most.”
Or maybe she’d just learned to keep her emotions out of her business. And she considered it a shame that someone with Brandon’s impressive people skills would be stuck in a career as a ranch hand. He could do so much more with his life if only he were properly motivated. Now that his reading skills had improved, he could get his GED and go to college.
Not that it was any of her business what he did with his life, she reminded herself. As an image consultant, helping people make serious life changes was a part of her business, and she loved what she did. But as Brandon had clearly stated earlier, he was happy just the way he was. And technically, he wasn’t even her client. He only needed the skills to hold his own at the gala. Beyond that, she had no right sticking her nose into his life. It was just a shame to see all that pote
ntial go to waste.
She noticed that Brandon missed the turn back to her office.
“You should have turned there,” she told him, gesturing in the direction of the street they’d just passed. Maybe, being unfamiliar with the area, he’d forgotten which route to take.
“I know where I’m going,” he said.
“But that’s the way back to my office. This route will take you several miles out of your way.” And into one of the slightly less reputable parts of town. And she was on a tight schedule. It was already well after four, but she could probably sneak in a phone call or two before business hours were officially over, then do some internet research on a 60th anniversary party she was planning.
“Maybe I’m not taking you back to your office.”
Her heart gave a sudden start. What was that supposed to mean?
What if getting in the truck with him hadn’t been such a hot idea after all? What did she really know about him? He was attractive and charming, but so was Ted Bundy.
She glanced over at him. He leaned back casually, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other propped in the open window. Not at all like he was about to pounce or pull a gun on her.
Just in case, she slid a little closer to the door, ready to shove it open the second the truck came to a stop if necessary. “Where are you taking me?”
He glanced over at her and grinned. “Relax. I’m not kidnapping you. I just thought I would take you out for a drink. Consider it my way of showing you my appreciation.”
She let out a relieved breath and relaxed back in her seat. “That’s really not necessary. Hannah’s Hope will compensate me for my time.”
“Well, I’d like to do it, anyway.”
“I really need to get back to work.”
“It’s almost five on a Friday.”
Four twenty-seven to be precise. And the longer they drove in the wrong direction, the later she would be getting back. “I planned to work late.”
They stopped for a red light and he turned to her, looking puzzled. “Why?”
Because I have no life, was the first answer that popped into her head. Sad as that was. But that was not the reason. “I have obligations.”
“Which I’m sure can wait until tomorrow.” The light turned green and he accelerated. “Am I right?”
“Technically, yes, but—”
“So, wouldn’t you rather be doing something fun?”
“Work is fun.”
He raised a brow at her.
“You don’t enjoy work?” she asked.
“Not on a Friday night,” he said, giving her a sideways glance. “You look like a woman who knows how to navigate a dance floor.”
Actually, she was a terrible dancer. She was so uncoordinated, she couldn’t even manage simple aerobics. She was always two steps behind the rest of the group. “Well, I’m not. And I really need to get back to the office.”
“No, you don’t,” he said. Just like that. As if she had no say in the matter.
He pulled into the lot of Billie’s, a small, shabby-looking, country-and-western bar that she never would have ventured into on her own. Too many disturbing memories of pulling her mom, who was usually too intoxicated to walk unaided, out of a place just like it in the small Nevada town where she grew up.
And before she could insist that he turn the truck around and take her back to her office immediately, he was out the door and walking around to her side.
He pulled it open and held out a hand to help her down.
“I can’t do this,” she said.
“It’s just one small step down to the ground,” he said with a dimpled grin. “I promise I’ll catch you if you fall.”
The mischief in his eyes said he knew that wasn’t what she meant, and his teasing grin warmed her from the inside out. Did the man have to be so adorable?
“I have a strict policy of not socializing with clients.”
“That’s a good policy. But I’m not one of your clients.”
Damn it, he had her there. “But Hannah’s Hope is my client, and by extension, so are you.”
It was a flimsy excuse at best, and she could see that he wasn’t buying it. She expected some snappy comeback, but instead he sobered, his eyes earnest.
“The thing is, I don’t know a lot of people in town and it can get lonely sometimes.”
Wow. She hadn’t been expecting that. That kind of brutal honesty. He was making it really hard to tell him no.
“I’m sure there are any number of women in there who would be happy to have a drink with you.” Among other things.
“But I want to have a drink with you.”
She couldn’t deny hearing those words, seeing the earnestness in his eyes, was just a little thrilling. And strangely enough, she wanted to get to know him better. There was something about Brandon that fascinated her. And not just his good looks, although she couldn’t deny she was attracted to him.
How sad was the state of her personal life when a gorgeous, sexy man asked her out for a drink and she wanted to work instead? When had she become so obsessed with success that she couldn’t take a few hours off to have a little fun?
Or, she could look at it from a profession angle. Brandon had so much potential. Maybe if they got to know one another, she could encourage him to do something more with his life.
It was only a drink, right?
“One drink,” she said. “Then you’ll take me right back to the office.”
“I promise.” Wearing a grin that said he’d known all along he would get his way, he held out a hand to help her down. His hand was big, and a little work-roughened. A sturdy, capable hand. And as it closed around her own, she had the strangest feeling of…security. As if she instinctively knew that, while she was with Brandon, he would never let anything hurt her.
How ridiculous was that? She barely knew the man. Besides, she was more than capable of taking care of herself.
As soon as she was on stable ground she let go. But as she picked her way across the gravel lot in her three-inch heels, it occurred to her how inappropriately she was dressed. The older-model cars in the lot said this wasn’t the sort of establishment where business types hung out. In her suit, she was going to stick out like a sore thumb.
“You look nervous,” he said as they approached the door.
“I think I’m overdressed.”
“Trust me, no one will care.”
He reached for the door handle and a rush of memories washed over her. A hazy, smoke-filled room teeming with the sour stench of stale liquor and hopelessness. Country-and-western music blaring at a decibel so loud one could barely think, much less hold a conversation—not that anyone went there to talk. She imagined couples grinding against each other on the dance floor and embracing in dark corners, doing God only knows what.
As Brandon pulled open the door she actually cringed, half expecting to see her mother there, slumped at the end of the bar, hands around a tumbler of cheap whiskey. But what she saw inside wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Despite it’s rundown exterior, it was clean and well-kept. The music was at a respectable level, and the air smelled not of smoke and liquor but smoked meat and spicy barbecue sauce.
Several men sat at the bar watching some sporting event on an enormous flat-screen television, but most of the booths were empty.
“Over there,” he said, gesturing to the area beside the deserted dance floor. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he put a hand on the small of her back to lead her. Did he have to be so touchy-feely? It wasn’t professional.
And having a drink with him was?
She didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, lead him to believe she was interested in anything but a professional relationship. She was sure she’d made that clear.
She slid into the seat of the booth he chose and he sat across from her. A waitress appeared to take their orders. She was an older woman with a pleasant face, wearing an apron that boasted Billie’s ribs were the best
in the west.
“Hey, Brandon,” she said with a flirtatious smile. “You want the usual?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
She turned to Paige, giving her a quick once-over. The business suit clearly puzzled her. “And for your lady friend?”
Paige felt compelled to explain that she wasn’t a “lady friend,” just a business associate, although for the life of her she didn’t know why it mattered what a virtual stranger thought. “A glass of Chardonnay, please.”
“House okay?”
“Fine.”
“Comin’ right up,” she said.
When she was gone, Paige said, “If she knows your usual, I guess you spend a lot of time here.”
Brandon shrugged. “I’m in every couple of days. Like I said, it gets lonely.”
“Where is it that you work, exactly?”
“Copper Run Ranch just outside of Wild Ridge.”
“I’ve never heard of Wild Ridge.”
“It’s about two hours northeast of here, in the San Bernardino mountains. It used to be a mining town. Pretty as a picture.”
“So you commute four hours every time you have a meeting with your mentor?”
“We meet twice a week, Thursdays and Sundays at the library. I drive in Thursday afternoon and stay in a hotel, then drive back to the ranch after my lesson on Sunday morning.”
“And your boss is okay with you taking all those days off?”
“He’s a generous man.”
More generous than most. “How long have you worked for him?”
“Eight years.”
“Have you ever thought of doing anything…different?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Going back to school, maybe.”
“What for? I like what I do.”
But didn’t he want to better himself? He was obviously an intelligent man. He could be so much more than just a ranch hand.
The waitress returned with Paige’s wine and a beer for Brandon. “Do you need menus?” she asked.
“No, thank you,” Paige said.
“Are you sure?” Brandon asked. “Dinner is on me.”