at the plant, and after a quick shower and change of clothes, I wake my computer. Charts and graphs appear, ones I’d been studying before I left the office on Friday. I stare at them, and my mind drifts. I usually have laser focus, but my thoughts aren’t on work this afternoon. No, they’re on Kira. Cute Kira, who smells like cupcakes and is making me dinner tonight.
Will I get a goodnight kiss?
Shit, I shouldn’t be fantasizing about that, and the more I think about sharing a meal, the more I think it’s a bad idea. After two run-ins, she’s already distracting me from my work. I can’t let that happen.
I’ve learned that women love power and wealth and want me for one of two reasons. What I have in my bank, and what I have in my pants. Dad was divorced three times, and my three older brothers are fast following in his footsteps.
The Lancaster boys have no staying power. Not that I go by the last name Lancaster. Not anymore, anyway. My mom insisted I had her last name, too. When Nate Montgomery Lancaster became a pain to write on so many documents, I dropped the Lancaster.
I manage to focus, and for the next two hours, I lose myself in work. Then when the phone rings, I absently reach for it.
“Nate here,” I say.
“Nate,” Oliver, the principal lawyer working on buying up all the cottages says on the other end. “Good news.”
I lean back in my chair, hope surging through me. “I could use some.”
“We’ve all but one property left to buy. Paperwork for the others will be done in the next couple of weeks.”
“Excellent. What’s happening with the last property?”
Papers rustle in the background. “Someone named Delroy Becker owns it. We’ve sent letters, but they’ve all gone unanswered, and the property looks abandoned. For all we know the guy is dead and buried. I’m trying to figure out what our next steps are.”
“Okay, keep me posted,” I say, and end the call. I stretch out and check the time. Dinner is at seven, so I should probably head home and get ready. Back in my truck, I pass by Frank’s garage and drive a few more blocks until I come to the quaint little place I’ve been staying while repairs to my house continue. When I bought it, the inspector was pushing ninety and missed all kinds of things. It was only when the construction company started repairing the roof and ceiling that they noticed all the plumbing had to be updated. Once the walls were torn open, it turned out the entire place needed rewiring. The job has taken longer than estimated, and while I like my privacy, the place I’m staying isn’t so bad.
Since no one is home yet, I’ll have time to stretch out and grab a few minutes alone. I step from the truck, and the smell of smoke reaches my nostrils. The neighbors don’t have a brush fire going in their barrel. Shit. I hurry to the back of the house and see smoke billowing from the kitchen window.
What the hell happened?
Chapter Three
Kira
I turn the shower off and grab a big fluffy white towel from the shelf. I have no idea why there is clean laundry in the B&B, or why the furniture is dust-free and all the wooden floors sparkle. The place has been closed up for nearly a year now—waiting for one of us to return—but when I entered, everything seemed pristine, the fresh scent of pine cleanser still in the air.
I can’t help but think Gram’s old friend Ralph Conrad has been taking care of the place in our absence. Ralph and Granddad go way back, and from conversations overheard, they hated Hooked as much as my grandmother.
I step from the shiny new four-piece en suite, a new addition since I’d been here last, and walk to my suitcase, grateful there is hot running water and power. Mom has been paying the utilities on the B&B but has been eager to sell it. I couldn’t get here before now, and after spending time in the place, being around Gram’s things, I’m hoping I’ll finally feel