“I have to go now, Fran. I’ll tend to the spa situation from here, and I’ll keep you posted on what’s going on,” he promised.
“All right. I’ll keep you posted, too. Just don’t …”
“What?”
“I don’t really think you should be handling this Mathilda thing yourself. Now that you know there’s something odd going on and some strangers living in her house … it’s just … there might be dirt. The kind that might harm you or Sutcliffe Industries.”
He laughed. “I’ve been expecting dirt from the moment I learned that I had a secret relative. Doing damage control is part of why I’m here. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to bury anything unsavory and make it disappear before the reporters find out anything.”
“Good luck with that. You know how they were with your parents’ divorce.”
He did. It had been ugly, brutal and had torn his young world apart, so he wasn’t letting anyone from the press get close. Maintaining a low profile was part of why he was here alone.
Well, not exactly alone, he thought as he hung up. There was one impetuous redhead and her three pale sidekicks lurking in the shadows. What in the world was he going to do about his … tenants? About one tenant in particular?
For half a mad second, he wondered what the board would think of Daisy. They’d probably all start hyperventilating, scared to death that she might tarnish his shiny aristocratic most-eligible-bachelor image.
Or hand them a container of bubbles.
Parker almost smiled at that thought. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Sutcliffe’s had saved him when he’d desperately needed saving, and, with the company teetering, he had to do everything right. If Daisy had been living here illegally, what other secrets was she harboring? Was there something about the situation that could further harm Sutcliffe’s if it came to light?
Probably not. He had, after all, been unaware of Daisy’s presence before today. Still, this was a delicate situation and a possible PR nightmare. He didn’t want to harm anyone, but the truth was that he was planning on relocating an entire crew of elderly people.
Parker blew out a breath. “Fine, it’s delicate,” he muttered. It was also ludicrous for a man who had eschewed marriage to inherit a wedding chapel. He would just have to deal with the situation.
“So get on with things,” he muttered. “Do what you came to do.” Make a quick sweep of your aunt’s possessions, hire someone to place Daisy and her brood elsewhere, make them disappear from your life and sell the building. Then figure out what’s gone wrong with Sutcliffe’s and fix it.
Parker frowned. Clearly, he had plenty to keep his mind occupied, especially since the spa would open in a month. So, why were his thoughts stalling on Daisy’s smile and the way she had stood up to him? The woman certainly made a man take notice. Even if he didn’t want to.
Daisy was rushing. No surprise. She spent a lot of time rushing … from her part-time job as a tour guide to her even more part-time job as a freelance reporter for a local newspaper to organizing weddings. She also did her best to oversee her group and make sure that no one starved to death or forgot to pay a bill. And when they did forget, she wasn’t too proud to try to schmooze the bill collector. Or evade him. Today shouldn’t have been so different from that.
Except it was. Parker Sutcliffe was no ordinary bill collector. He had caught them in the act of mooching off him, and now he was going to put them out on the street. And it was clear as anything that she was the one who would have to try to get him to change his mind.
But, there had been no light-bulb moments in her dreams last night. Just a few erotic images of Parker with his suit off.
“Oh, that really helped a lot,” she had grumbled when she woke up and remembered—vaguely—what she’d been dreaming. Undressing the villain didn’t make him less a villain. It just made her look pathetic. Besides, she didn’t have time for any of that.
“Lydia, help me make these pew bows look a little perkier. We weren’t at the top of our game yesterday when Mr. Sutcliffe dropped by, so we’ve got to make this place shine before he shows up today.”
“Do you think he’ll like us better today, Daisy?” Nola asked, and Daisy wanted to cry. Or scream at Parker and beat her fists against his broad chest. Honestly, the man must go to the gym every day. What rich guy looked that fit without a personal trainer riding his butt all the time? He probably lived off arugula and bean sprouts while she and the gang ate a lot of mac ‘n’ cheese. The discount kind.
“Daisy?” Lydia sounded worried.
“He might like us better,” Daisy said, trying to sound confident. “If we can wave some dollar signs in front of his eyes. I’ve met Mr. Sutcliffe’s type before, men who are all about getting what they want. If we can convince him that the Forever and a Day has the potential to be profitable for him, he might want to leave things as they are. Maybe he’ll agree to hire us and let us stay on here.”
She looked at the cheery but inexpensive bows she and Lydia were affixing to the pews, but a part of her couldn’t help seeing them through Parker’s eyes. They weren’t real silk. She remembered how his suit had looked … and felt. The man was not going to be impressed by this.
But he’s not going to sneer, either, she vowed. She would punch him in the nose before she would let him make fun of Lydia or John or Nola. They had had tough lives and now they were old, but they had their pride. Tillie had been proud, too. And Daisy was not going to let some pompous rich guy look down his nose at them.
Just because they were squatting in his building. Breaking the law.
The truth hit her. It nearly did her in. They really had no right to be here. Parker Sutcliffe was completely within his rights to throw them all out.
She had three elderly people dependent on her … and her baby. Her baby. She still had trouble believing that she was going to be a mother. It was a scary thought, but she was determined not to mess up. Having no home for her baby would be messing up in a major way. So, what on earth was she going to do?
Something foolish, most likely, she thought. And that kind of thing had gotten her in trouble in the past. Big trouble. Put-you-in-handcuffs-and-write-bad-stuff-on-your-permanent-record trouble.
But that’s not going to happen today. I’m not going to let things get out of control. Come on, Mr. Sutcliffe. I’m putting on my tour-guide face. I can fake it with the best of them. Let’s do this thing.
The first thing that Parker noticed when he entered the Forever and a Day, documents in hand, was that someone had made an attempt to make the inside of the chapel shine. The pink bows affixed to the ends of the pews were more attractive than the ones that had been on display yesterday, there were two potted plants on the small staging area at the front and the cream-colored curtains that had been closed for privacy yesterday had been tied back to let the morning sunlight stream in. Unfortunately, while the sun made the place much brighter, it emphasized the fact that the pews were rather old, their upholstery somewhat shiny with age.
And apparently his inspection hadn’t gone unnoticed. “We’ve been meaning to reupholster them when we get the funds, but we wanted you to see that this is a nice place to have a sweet, old-fashioned wedding. With just a small infusion of cash, it could be even better. We fill a niche that the bigger, flashier places don’t. People who want something homey, loving, not overly commercial or expensive seek us out,” Daisy said, walking toward him down the center aisle of the chapel. She had a determined smile on her face, but her eyes looked wary.
“Daisy,” he drawled. “I told you—”
“I know. You’re not interested in the marriage business. I went to the library and looked you up on the internet last night. I know what your company does,