Taken by Storm (Give & Take) - By Kelli Maine Page 0,78
I say.” Rachael grinned knowing she had him cornered. “On the condition that you actually get it to sound like a musical instrument instead of a dying goose.”
With a cigar hanging out of the corner of his mouth, Beck smirked and ran his bow across the strings making the worst sound MJ had ever heard.
MJ laughed. He never imagined hanging out with his dad and his dad’s friends like this and feeling so comfortable, like he was one of them.
Beside him at the round, glass-topped table, Joan shuffled some paperwork. “I can’t believe you’re making me supervise Riley and Jesse on the bandstand build. Those two would be lucky to build a birdhouse, let alone an actual structure.”
“Well,” Merrick said, “I have some news. You’re being reassigned again. The bandstand will be your last project at Turtle Tear.”
She dropped her papers and looked up, first at Merrick, then at Beck, finally to Rachael, and her eyes narrowed, accusingly.
“This is news to me too,” Rachael said. “I had nothing to do with whatever they have brewing.”
“Right,” Joan said, propping a forearm on the table. “What will my new assignment be?”
Merrick smiled. “You’ll be working for MJ on his first property.”
“What?” MJ said, gripping the arms of his chair.
“My exact thought.” Joan pushed her chair back and crossed her legs. “I can’t wait to hear this.”
Merrick took a sip of iced tea. “The first time I spoke to Rachael,” he said, “she told me the story of Turtle Tear’s founders.”
“Archie and Ingrid,” MJ said. “She’s been going on and on about them.”
Merrick laughed and took Rachael’s hand. “They’re the inspiration behind everything on the island,” he said. “When Rachael told me I had a son, I went a little nuts. I didn’t know what to do, or where to go. I should’ve come right to you, but—”
“But, being an idiot is part of your charm,” Rachael said, beaming at him.
“I’m glad you find it charming in addition to frustrating.” Merrick kissed her and continued. “I ended up calling Max, my lawyer and advisor. As I was talking to him, spilling this insane story of ours, it hit me and I knew what I had to do. I’d given Turtle Tear to Rachael, and I had to give a piece of the same history to you.”
Merrick slid a file folder off of the table and passed it to MJ. “The Weston Sugar Plantation, Archibald Weston’s family home. It’s about a half hour south of St. Petersburg, just outside of Palmetto, and it’s all yours.”
Shocked, MJ opened the folder with fumbling fingers and took out a photo. He studied the white-columned, antebellum plantation house. It was practically falling down. “It’s incredible. Is it safe to go inside?”
“It’s safe. Mostly.” Merrick pointed to the west wing. “I wouldn’t walk around in this section though. I’ll train you, teach you everything you need to know.”
MJ couldn’t stop staring at the pictures, then at Merrick. “I can’t believe this. Thanks, um… Dad.”
Merrick smiled and rubbed his hand across his stubble-covered chin. Watching him, Rachael laughed. “I think you’ve left him speechless, MJ.”
MJ pressed his palm flat against the file folder. “I’m the one who should be speechless.” He handed the file to Joan. “Looks like we better get busy. Restoring this place is going to be practically impossible.”
Joan shot him a condescending smirk. “I don’t know the word impossible.”
“She’s a pain in the ass,” Beck said, tightening a cello string, “but she’ll get it taken care of.”
“Riley!” Merrick shouted. “Now!”
After a minute, Riley came out of the sliding glass doors from the kitchen holding a bottle of champagne and a stack of clear plastic cups. He handed them to Merrick. “Am I getting reassigned to Beck now that he doesn’t have an assistant?”
“Do you want to work for Beck?” Merrick ask, popping the champagne cork.
“Your sorry ass isn’t working for me,” Beck said. “I hear you can’t even build a birdhouse. If you can string a cello there might be hope for you though.”
Merrick patted Riley on the back. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”
Riley sat down across from Beck and grabbed a pack of strings from him. “Who said I can’t string a cello?”
“I’m that bad to work for?” Merrick asked pouring each of them a little champagne.
MJ laughed. “Maybe you training me isn’t such a good idea.”
His phone vibrated in his pocket. When he pulled it out and saw Maddie’s name on the screen, a surreal feeling passed through him.