Chapter 3

CHAPTERTHREE

“Not so fast.”

Her father still had Paige cornered in the conference room. Clearly, she wasn’t leaving until he’d gotten his pound of flesh. She sank back down into the chair in defeat. The only point in her favor was that Mr. Gillette, her handsome Aussie stranger from New Year’s Eve, hadn’t put two and two together and mentioned her presence at the wedding. She didn’t want to have to explain that to the sheriff.

Tanner Gillette’s accent still had the power to twist her stomach in knots. He didn’t need a tailored suit and tie to exude potent vitality and sex appeal. Even dressed in shorts and a sweaty T-shirt, with his mahogany hair disheveled from anxiously combing his fingers through it, he’d have women fawning at his feet. His eyes were amber, but they weren’t as welcoming as they had been a few months ago. The dimples were in hiding today, too. His distress over Whitney’s disappearance was palatable. The fact that he didn’t want to put the little girl into foster care endeared him just a little bit to Paige.

But it could also be a huge red flag.

“You’re just going to let that guy leave with that little girl?” she said. “How do you know he’s not some sort of perv?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “There’s no evidence that he is a ‘perv.’ And the child is legally in his care.”

Legally in his care.That could only mean that the arrogant Mr. Gillette was related to the child in some way. Of course. More than likely, he was the little girl’s father. He probably refused to acknowledge Whitney—right up until mom forced him to.

If that were the case, shame on the mom, too. She should know better than to use her own daughter as a pawn. Whitney couldn’t be more than four or five. A child that age wouldn’t fully comprehend what was going on around her. She’d only be scared at being left with a stranger.

“Except that I found her hiding beneath a picnic table. Crying,” she argued. “She’s afraid of him.”

“She told you that?”

Of course she hadn’t. Whitney wasn’t much of a talker, apparently.

Her father arched an eyebrow at her. “Years in this business have taught me the facts can be interpreted a multitude of ways, Paige. For instance, what if Whitney was in a new, exciting place, and she got distracted by something, then she became separated from her guardian? Might that be a reason for her to be crying beneath a picnic table?”

Well, when he put it that way. “But—”

Her father held up a hand. “Enough. There are lots of extenuating circumstances to this situation. All of them private. Rest assured, however, that Whitney’s welfare is first and foremost for everyone involved.”

Paige crossed her arms over her chest. She was just going to have to take his word for it. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t spend the next few weeks worrying about Whitney’s well-being. It was in her DNA to care about kids.

“Are you out of school for spring break?” he asked, steering the conversation to a path Paige didn’t want to go down.

“Something like that,” she muttered.

Her father’s eyes brightened. “And you decided to spend it in Chances Inlet?” The unmistakable delight in his voice punched Paige’s guilt button. Huh. Go figure. She thought her mom was the only one who had access to that particular part of her psyche.

Paige could only imagine the man’s reaction when he discovered the real reason for her sudden beach trip. And he would find out. No doubt he’d call her mother as soon as Paige left. Her mom would have no compunction about spilling the tea. Heather Franks never resisted an opportunity to prove she was right.

Time to end this meet and greet before things got even more humiliating.

“Just passing through, actually. I’m on my way to Myrtle Beach.” Her father’s face dimmed. “But I figured while I was in the area, I’d pop in and say hi.” She waved a hand. “Hi.”

He made a sound deep in his throat. “Well, Myrtle Beach is barely an hour away. Perhaps you can make some time to come up for dinner one evening. Meet Tricia and her kids. I know she’d like that very much.”

She’d like that very much.

Somehow Paige doubted that. She couldn’t hold a candle to his wife’s star-studded progeny. It stung, too, that he only wanted her to come to dinner to please his new wife. His tune would change when he found out the truth about Paige, though. He wouldn’t be so eager to have his Scarlett Letter wearing daughter mingling with his picture-perfect new family, that’s for sure.

“I don’t know. My schedule is really packed. I’m meeting friends and we’ve got things planned for every night.” She justified her horrendous lie by telling herself she was saving them both from embarrassment. “Maybe some other time?”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room while her dad studied her over steepled fingers, his stare inscrutable. She had the distinct feeling he knew she wasn’t telling the truth. Damn, he was good. He probably had criminals confessing in the first five minutes of an interrogation. She resisted the urge to squirm in her chair.

Deputy Lovell bailed her out when he poked his head into the room. “Sorry to interrupt, sir.” He looked over at Paige. “Miss, do you own a Ford Edge with Illinois tags?”

What the heck?

“Um, yes. I do.”

“I just thought you’d like to know it’s being towed.”

“Towed?” She jumped up and dashed toward the exit. “Why? I was parked legally.” She called over her shoulder at her father. “I was!”

Paige sprinted across the town square. Sure enough, the hood of her car was open, and a pair of jean-clad legs was hanging out of it. A tow truck idled in the street.

“Oh, there you are.”

The now familiar voice of Bernice Reed stopped Paige in her tracks.

“Wouldn’t you know it,” the woman said. “Chet was at the diner when I went in. I told him about your car troubles. Lucky for you he wasn’t busy today. He brought the wrecker over to take a look.”

The woman had some gall. “I told you I would call Triple A if I needed help.”

Bernice shrugged. “I saved you a phone call. Besides, they would have sent Chet. You wouldn’t want anyone else anyway. He’s the best mechanic around. And a straight shooter.” She winked at Paige. “He wouldn’t dare rip off a pretty young woman.”

“Afternoon, Chet.” Great. Her father must have followed her. He stepped around Paige and leaned an elbow on the car. “What are we looking at?”

The rest of Chet emerged from beneath the hood. His beard was gray against his black skin. He tugged his T-shirt over his round belly. Chipmunk cheeks and the deep crinkles fanning out from his maple syrup eyes made him look a lot like Santa Claus.

Chet wrinkled his nose. “Well, that smell usually only means one thing. Catalytic converter.”

Her dad made a tsking noise. One that didn’t sound the least bit encouraging. Beads of sweat began to form on the back of her neck.

“The catalytic convertor?” She tried and failed to tone down the hint of panic lacing her voice. She had no idea what a catalytic convertor was. Only that it sounded expensive. “What does that do?”

Chet’s eyes were sympathetic. “It filters out the harmful emissions and makes your car run more efficiently.”

“Okay.” Paige nodded. “But can my car run without it?”

“Sure.”

She let out a breath of relief.

Her relief was short-lived, however.

“But it’s not a long-term solution.” Chet gestured to the hood of her car. “And by the looks of it, your car has already been running without one that works properly for some time. She ain’t gonna go nowhere now without a new one.”

She braced for impact. “How much is a new one?”

Chet pulled a rag out of his pocket and wiped his hands. “Won’t know until I get inside her. But my best guess? The parts alone could be a couple thousand.”

“I’m sorry? Did you say a couple thousand?” she choked out before staggering over to one of the park benches and plopping down.

Unless this town had its own currency she didn’t know about, this was a disaster. She was already going to have to dip into her emergency savings to pay her rent and student loans next month. Repairing her car would be a significant hit to what was left of her bank account. Not to mention the pesky fact she’d been blackballed from teaching or nannying and wouldn’t be bringing in any income for the foreseeable future.

“How long to fix it?” she heard her father asking.

Chet said something about calling around for parts and getting them sent in. His ‘best guess’ was the day after tomorrow.

And just like that, Paige was trapped in her very own Hallmark small town nightmare.

* * *

“I passeda Hampton Inn on my way into town,” Paige said. “I can stay there.” At least she’d earn some points for a vacation she might not ever be able to afford to take.

Her father kept his eyes on the road and his hands at ten and two on the steering wheel of the Bronco presumably belonging to the sheriff’s office given the lights on top. Sitting in the passenger seat, she could sense the disappointment rolling off him. Now he knew the only reason she’d stopped in Chances Inlet was because her car broke down.

“Nonsense,” he said curtly. “Tricia owns a B & B. She always keeps a room open for family.”

Paige nearly laughed. Just as Summer suspected. Except, as she kept having to remind everyone, she wasn’t family. And the last time she’d checked the B & B’s website, the price tag for even the smallest room was close to four hundred a night. If she ever made it to Myrtle Beach, she’d be dining on Ramen noodles and juice boxes.

At this point, though, arguing with her dad seemed pointless. Not to mention, churlish.

“Don’t most of her kids live in town now?”

The sounds of the ocean grew louder when he steered the Bronco down a long gravel drive. A canopy of Spanish moss hanging from the live oak trees on either side of the road created a shaded tunnel.

“All but Elle,” he said. “She works for a publisher in New York City. Miles and his wife live in DC during the week. But they’re home most weekends.”

He pulled around a circular drive and brought the Bronco to a stop in front of a gorgeous Victorian mansion. Three stories high, the B & B had twin spires that likely offered a fabulous view of the ocean. A porch wrapped around much of the building with rockers and Adirondack chairs strategically placed to form conversation areas for guests. Hanging baskets of flowers gave the entire area a pop of color. Off in the distance, Paige made out a gazebo surrounded by azaleas and lush green grass.

Patricia McAlister came out the screen door before her father had even killed the ignition. Paige recognized her from New Year’s Eve. She wasn’t as elegantly dressed as she had been that night, but even in worn jeans topped with a long, peach sweater, she looked chic. Her shoulder length champagne-blonde hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail making her appear youthful and vibrant. Out of the corner of her eye, Paige looked on as her father’s face softened watching his wife hurry down the steps.

“Welcome to the Tide Me Over Inn,” Patricia said when Paige got out of the SUV. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”

She leaned in for a hug. Paige awkwardly hugged her back.

“You must be exhausted after your drive.” Her hazel eyes took in Paige’s disheveled outfit. “Not to mention all the other unplanned events of the day. Come in and we’ll get you settled.”

Her father was already unloading her suitcase from the back of the Bronco. Paige grabbed her computer bag and her duffel and followed Patricia inside. The interior of the B & B was as stunning as the outside. Tigerwood floors gleamed throughout the entry hallway. Tall ceilings gave the place an open, airy feel. An eclectic mix of antique and rustic farmhouse furniture was interspersed about each room. The scent of fresh flowers and baked bread added to the inn’s welcoming ambiance.

“We have tea every afternoon at three in the main salon, just over here.” Patricia indicated a room with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the beach and ocean beyond. “Nothing fancy. Just light refreshments of scones, cookies, and finger sandwiches.”

Paige’s stomach rumbled loudly as they climbed up the elaborate staircase leading to the second floor. Patricia shot her a concerned look.

“Have you eaten anything at all today? I’m happy to fix you a sandwich or something.”

“I’m fine, really. You’re already being too gracious. Thank you, though. I’m sure I’ll survive until teatime.”

Patricia led them to the end of the hall where she opened the door to a lavish space. “This is the Glasgow suite. It’s my daughter Elle’s favorite. Gavin’s wife Ginger also stayed here when they were filming the ‘Historic Restorations’ show.”

Paige stepped into the sitting room at the center of the suite. A love seat and two stuffed armchairs filled up the space. Beyond them was a massive four poster bed that looked so comfortable, Paige was tempted to face plant in the middle of the mattress and sleep for two days.

“This is—this is amazing.” She spun around trying to take the space in. No wonder they could charge such a high rate for the rooms. The suite was exquisite, yet homey at the same time.

Patricia’s smile was all pride. “There’s a claw foot soaking tub in the bathroom and a robe in the closet. Help yourself to any of the toiletries.”

A warm bubble bath sounded heavenly after the shitshow of a day she’d been having. But there was no way she could afford this. Not now.

“Really, this is too much,” Paige said around the boulder of embarrassment clogging her throat. “I’m sure you’ve got a waiting list of guests wanting to rent this room.”

“There are seven other guest rooms in the inn. All of them turning a profit. But I always hold one back for when a surprise guest drops in.” Patricia seemed to sense her unease. She reached over and gave Paige’s arm a gentle pat. “And the room is always comped for family.”

“But I’m not—”

The pat on the arm was a little firmer this time. “Nonsense. Like it or not, you are as much family as my own two daughters. Settle in,” Patricia ordered. “When you’re ready, take the backstairs down to the kitchen. That’s where the family hangs out. They are all so excited to get to know you.”

Paige’s voice didn’t seem to want to cooperate, so she nodded like a simpleton. Her wallet would be relieved, but she still felt like she was taking advantage of the woman’s generosity by staying. Especially when Patricia didn’t know the truth about her.

Patricia turned to her husband and began ushering him out of the suite. “Come on, you. I’ll fix you a sandwich to take back to the office.”

Paige shook her head in amazement at the formidable woman her father had married. No wonder her children were standouts in their professions. She doubted anyone stood a chance when Patricia got something into her head.

Seeing how her plan to meet her dad’s family on her own terms was now out the window, Paige decided a nice soak in the tub and a short power nap would go a long way toward refortifying her armor for the “get to know you” session looming.