calculation.
She’d walked out on him once without giving him the benefit of the doubt, not caring that she left him looking like an idiot. She was clever enough and resourceful enough to pull off revenge at this level and confident enough not to bat one long, mink eyelash.
But despite all the proof Reece was pitching, regardless of how many papers he stuffed in that file pointing the finger at Belle, Mitch wasn’t going for it.
With a smile at odds with the subject, he settled back in his chair and finally identified the feeling he’d been struggling with since he’d walked into this office and seen his past waiting for him. He was in love with Belle. He had been six years ago, although he’d called it ambition. He was now, although he’d been trying to tell himself it was lust.
Love. Mitch shifted his gaze out the window to stare at the expanse of trees and gopher-infested lawn. Who knew it would feel so confusing?
But confusing or not, he loved her. Which meant, bottom line, he trusted her.
She might only be in this for the sex. She might still run away at any time, Mitch realized as his heart sank a little. He swallowed the bitter taste of fear at the possibility and told himself he’d deal with it later. The truth was, he wasn’t blind to Belle’s issues. But he knew screwing him at the same time she was screwing him over wasn’t one of them.
“You’re meeting with Belle tomorrow to talk security for the grand opening,” he told Reece. “If you need to ask questions to make you feel like you’re doing your job, go ahead. She’s clean. But keep digging because the real culprit needs to be stopped before they do any more damage to my resort.”
“You’re gone, cuz.” Reece shook his head in a pitying, you’re-so-stupid kind of way.
“Totally gone,” Mitch acknowledged, shoving aside the doubts. “And I’m loving every minute of it.”
* * *
“I’VE GOT IT, THE ANSWER to our problem,” Belle claimed in her daily phone call to Sierra. She tucked the cell between her chin and shoulder as she sliced a peach. They were now officially her favorite fruit.
“A blow-up doll with remote-control hands?” Sierra shot back.
Belle rolled her eyes at the phone. “Hardly. If we’re using remote control I plan on operating something much more interesting than hands.”
“Right. So what’s our problem and then what’s the answer?”
Sierra was usually so on top of things, but she’d been distracted during their last few phone calls, forgetting to send papers and contracts, just sort of disconnected from everything as far as Belle could tell.
Taking her snack to the table, Belle frowned in frustration. Questions were pointless. Sierra answered them all with annoying assurances that everything was just fine.
“Kiki’s in,” Belle explained. “She’s really excited to take her spa to the next level and sees aligning with Forsham Hotels as the way to do it. Besides all the info I already sent you, I just found out she’s courting a contract with one of the big-name beauty suppliers for an exclusive label.”
“Do you think that’s enough to help your dad?”
“I hope so. She’ll pay top dollar for the square footage, but she’ll also bring in a huge clientele. Between the label and her own promotion, they’re going to skyrocket.” Belle considered. “I have to convince Daddy, but if it works, he’ll be able to switch all his on-site boutiques and stores. Rather than entities he runs and assumes the business expenses for, he can let his tenant take on the employee, inventory and liability risks. He’ll cut his own expenses by at least an eighth.”
Belle nibbled on her peach as they went on to brainstorm a few more ideas and kick around ways to pitch the proposal to her father. Finally deciding Belle would do it over Sunday brunch the next weekend, they wound up the topic.
“What about Lakeside?” Sierra asked. “Have you talked to Mitch about borrowing Kiki?”
“No,” she said slowly. “I just didn’t think it was a good idea until we’d worked out all the particulars.”
“In other words, you don’t want to rock the nookie boat until you’re sure your dad’s on board.”
Belle was glad her shamed flush couldn’t be seen over the phone.
“Kiki doesn’t have an exclusivity contract,” she defended.
“Doesn’t mean Mitch expects her to be stolen away by his bed buddy.”
“She’s not being stolen. After she set things up here, she planned on leaving a manager in charge anyway. Besides,” Belle justified,