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“I—I don’t have any money. Please believe me. I work two jobs to keep us afloat.”
“Us?” The word rolled off his tongue before he could stop it. Suddenly he pictured this woman with a husband and children—her own support system.
“Yes. Me and my father.”
At this point, Deacon should just hang up, but he couldn’t do it. The father may have stepped over the line, but the daughter hadn’t. And those words kept haunting him—take care of Gabrielle.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked.
“I could go outside and talk to the media. I could explain my father’s actions—”
“Don’t. The less said the better.” All the while, he was considering how best to help this woman, who obviously had too much on her plate.
“So if my father and I agree not to say another word, you will see that the charges are dropped?”
“No. Not only has my name been slandered in the news, but my assistant was coming back from lunch when your father’s protest was at its height. She was verbally assaulted and had things thrown at her. She has quit. And the temp agency doesn’t want to send anyone else.”
“Oh.” Gabrielle paused. “I don’t know what you want me to do to make this right.”
“You don’t need to do anything. You did not cause this mess.” Something told him this wasn’t Gabrielle’s first time cleaning up after her father. Perhaps taking care of Gabrielle meant freeing her from being constantly at her father’s beck and call. “Your father must face up to what he’s done.”
“But he’s in no physical condition to go through the legal process—”
“This isn’t your first time fixing things for your father, is it?”
“No.” She quickly added, “But he needs me.”
“Your father, can he cook for himself?”
“Yes, but—”
“Do his own laundry and shopping?”
“Yes, but—”
“You do most everything for him, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. I’m his daughter. Now tell me what I can do to remedy things.”
In that moment, Deacon knew what needed to be done. Without giving himself a chance to back out, he said, “There is one thing and it’s nonnegotiable.”
“Name it.”
“Come work for me.”
CHAPTER ONE
Two days later...
WHAT EXACTLY HAD she agreed to?
Gabrielle Dupré’s heart beat faster as she turned into the gated drive of the Santoro estate. Her gaze shifted to the clock on the dash. The drive from Bakersfield had taken more than four hours. She definitely wouldn’t want to deal with that long commute each day. Thankfully Newton, an old friend from the neighborhood, had recently moved back to town and was renting a room from her father and had agreed to keep an eye on him while she worked here at the estate. Newton had changed since she’d last seen him, but he was happy to be there for her father, and they seemed to get on.
Deacon had offered her more money to work here than both of her jobs combined. It also included free room and board. Under different circumstances, she’d be excited about the opportunity. But with her father convinced that Mr. Santoro was the reason her aunt had died, being here felt uncomfortable to say the least.
She swallowed hard and reached out the driver’s side window, pressing a finger to a button on the intercom. She waited for someone to speak to her. However, without a word the gate swept open. She had to admit she was curious to see what awaited her on the other side of the wall. She’d done an internet search, but it hadn’t turned up any pictures of the estate.
Gabrielle eased her father’s vintage red convertible onto the overgrown grounds. It certainly wasn’t the grand estate that she’d been anticipating. Perhaps at one time this place might have been beautiful, but now it was woefully neglected. The grass appeared not to have been cut in ages. The bushes were overgrown and gangly. The flower gardens were overrun with weeds that were strangling out the few remaining flowers.
