My heart dropped to my feet. The seconds it took for him to emerge from the water were the longest of my life. When he popped up in a grand splash, his fist darted above his head. Scott mimicked the same fist pumping raise. Loud whoops and hollers came from both guys.
I reared back, grasping behind me for the arm of a patio chair, landing blindly on the seat. This was too much. “Scott, you can’t come back. You’re a bad influence.”
Lauren’s head poked out the back door. “Seriously? That’s quiet?” she called.
“Sorry, babe.” It was as if Scott instantly flipped a switch, transforming into the attentive husband again. “Did I wake her?”
Honestly, Lauren might have more attitude than either of them. “Well, of course you did. Come help me.” With no hesitation, he obliged, following her inside. She held an extraordinary grip on Scott.
My guy had that same kind of captivating control over me. My gaze fixed on Beau ascending the swimming pool’s steps with a smile larger than life. For me, the vision of my muscled-up guy coming toward me with water cascading down his body was an alluring treat. He made me forget why I was upset.
When he started toward me, I recognized his playful, predatory intent. He had a thing for enveloping me in one of his bear hugs that would wrinkle my clothing.
I leaped up, ready to dart away. Luckily, the doorbell chimed, giving me an excuse to leave. “Dinner,” I said. “I’ll be back.”
In almost a jog, I dipped back into the house. I couldn’t believe he’d jumped from the roof. We had to dial back his crazy adventurous spirit to a safer setting, if there was one. I shook my head, smiling.
3: The Joy
Beau
Monday
I released a jaw-cracking yawn and focused on the country music playing from my truck’s radio. The workday hadn’t been particularly rough, FedEx was in chill season, but the events of the past few days were piling up. A quiet night at home then a good night’s sleep should do the trick, making me feel right as rain tomorrow.
With one elbow resting on the edge of my rolled-down window and the other on the steering wheel, I maneuvered onto Dash’s street with what I considered an expert one-handed turn.
I saw the events unfolding instantly, but it seemed so wrong that it didn’t make sense. A beater tow truck was in the process of leaving the driveway with Dash’s sleek ride on top of the steel bed. I braked in the middle of the road until the tow truck was out of the driveway.
Dread coiled the muscles in my shoulders. Stop assuming. Maybe Dash had some sort of vehicle malfunction. I hadn’t heard from him since this morning. Now, that seemed suspicious. I saw Dash standing on the porch, one hand fisted on his hip, the other grasping his cell phone, the crease between his brows deepened. He saw me and didn’t smile. Whoever he spoke with held all his attention.
The garage door was wide open. I parked in the driveway and got out of the truck. The closer I got to Dash the more I felt waves of anxiety wafting off him. I was slow on the approach justin case he was on a private call. Before I made it halfway to the porch, Amelia’s car, Dash’s nanny now housekeeper, came to a screeching halt at the curb in front of the house.
Oh, that couldn’t be good. Something nefarious was a foot.
“Is Dash all right?” Amelia asked from her open window, concern in her voice and tears in her eyes.
“Can you help her?” Dash asked me. To him, Amelia was like a mother. She’d been by his side since the night his parents brought him home as a newborn. Their bond was unbreakable. Whatever happened to her was bound to be a catalyst that drove Dash to the brink.
“I just got home. What’s happenin’?” I asked her, crossing the yard to help her out of the car. I glanced over at Dash. Who now had a finger stuck in his free ear. He turned away, retreating into the house.
“I’ve been terminated without any explanation. I had a letter dropped off at the place where I’m staying. Is Dash all right? This wasn’t his decision, right?” she asked, her deep concern evident in her tone. Ah, power plays of the rich and famous. That was what was afoot this afternoon. This one was low, even for Dash’s family. Amelia was a dedicated employee to the Richmonds.
“Let’s go inside and wait for Dash. I don’t know what’s happenin’. We haven’t talked much today, but his car was just hauled off.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began walking her toward the front door.
“His phone isn’t working,” she clarified. “That’s why I’m here. I’ve worked for the Richmonds for twenty-five years,” she explained with tears running down her cheeks. The gravity of the situation became clearer.
“His cell phone was turned off?” I asked.
“Yes, he’s using that fancy phone you refuse to use. He bought the service himself. That’s why it’s operational,” she explained.“He told me what his parents did. I made him a good lunch to help him feel better.” She gave a hiccupped tsk and shook her head in distaste.
I pushed open the front door, finding that none of the lights were on.
Oh no.
Dash’s office door swung open, revealing the deep concern etched on his face. His efforts to conceal it from us failed mightily. His grin that usually helped him get his way, lacked its normal radiance. “I was hoping to have all this resolved before you got home,” he said, his voice tense, but he did come toward me, placing both palms on my chest, lifting for a quick peck. “What’s going on, Amelia?”
“Your father fired me. His secretary called and gave no explanation except they won’t fight unemployment. I don’t understand,” she said, tears amping up again. “He’s being too mean. You’re his son. You’ve been good to him.”
