“She has one of those?” How many women named Bree had a southern drawl?
“Yup.” Another head shake. “I don’t know how since she’s never lived in the south. As a matter of fact, I’m not sure she’s ever visited the south, but that accent is there.”
Okay, how many women had southern accents and were named Bree? That was beyond coincidence. There was only one way to find out. Adam stood, brushed off his slacks, and said, “I’ve got to be somewhere; can we finish up later?”
“As long as we firm up the details sometime today. Rex wants you in Magdalena next week.”
“Uh, sure. I’ll catch you later.” Adam sprinted out the door and ran after a taxi. He had twenty minutes to get to the hotel and find out if the woman last night was the one he was being sent to trick, and if so, what he was going to do about it.
When he arrived at the hotel, he didn’t stop at the front desk but ran to the elevator, stepped inside, and punched the seventh-floor button. Three times. He’d always thought people who repeated actions in the hopes of speeding a process that would not be sped up were ridiculous, and now he was one of them. What was he going to say to Bree? He had no idea but he’d start with talking about what happened last night. No sense pretending around that. He’d never been a man to leave a woman not knowing where they stood. Except, he didn’t know where they stood, and if she was this Rex guy’s daughter, that put Adam in a very complicated situation with no easy solution. The elevator dinged open and he rushed down the hall, past the housekeeping cart to Bree’s room. Why was the door ajar? He pushed it open, stepped inside. “Bree?”
A short, stocky, forty-something woman in a pale blue uniform stared back at him from across the room. She stood beside the bed, a ball of sheets in front of her. Housekeeping? Was Bree gone? No, no, she couldn’t be. Adam advanced into the room, tried to keep his voice calm, and asked, “The woman who was in this room? Did you see her?”
“No. I didn’t see anyone.” She darted a glance at him as though afraid she might have done something wrong.
The only people who’d done anything wrong were Bree and himself. They should have introduced themselves and stopped with the games last night. People didn’t pretend they were somebody else, at least not people in his world. “Do you know if she checked out or are you just cleaning the room?” Maybe she’d run out and would be back in a few minutes. Another glance at his watch told him it was 11:05 a.m. Maybe she wasn’t punctual…maybe she’d gotten hungry… But when the housekeeper said the dreaded words checked out he had to acknowledge the other, very real possibility.
Maybe she hadn’t wanted to see him again.
4
N atalie Servetti wanted a second chance so desperately she was willing to do just about anything, short of offering sexual favors, to get it. She’d done that years ago, tried to buy her way to love, commitment, and marriage. When she failed, she decided if she couldn’t have them or the men attached to them, then nobody would. That’s when she’d gone after other women’s men—boyfriends, husbands, fathers, little brothers—none of it mattered except making those men want her, even if they only wanted the sex and not her.
She could blame her screwed-up life and notions about relationships on her parents because Lydia and Ernest Servetti believed their “princess” had no other duty than to look beautiful and make men desire her. They never taught Natalie about being responsible, trustworthy, or kind. Why should she concern herself with those things when people adored her, thought her the most beautiful and desirable creature walking this earth? Imagine that! They ignored the little Italian dumpling cousin, Gina, treated her with disregard and distaste. The world belonged to their long-legged, tiny-waisted daughter and as Natalie matured, she grew more beautiful, more
“Yup.” Another head shake. “I don’t know how since she’s never lived in the south. As a matter of fact, I’m not sure she’s ever visited the south, but that accent is there.”
Okay, how many women had southern accents and were named Bree? That was beyond coincidence. There was only one way to find out. Adam stood, brushed off his slacks, and said, “I’ve got to be somewhere; can we finish up later?”
“As long as we firm up the details sometime today. Rex wants you in Magdalena next week.”
“Uh, sure. I’ll catch you later.” Adam sprinted out the door and ran after a taxi. He had twenty minutes to get to the hotel and find out if the woman last night was the one he was being sent to trick, and if so, what he was going to do about it.
When he arrived at the hotel, he didn’t stop at the front desk but ran to the elevator, stepped inside, and punched the seventh-floor button. Three times. He’d always thought people who repeated actions in the hopes of speeding a process that would not be sped up were ridiculous, and now he was one of them. What was he going to say to Bree? He had no idea but he’d start with talking about what happened last night. No sense pretending around that. He’d never been a man to leave a woman not knowing where they stood. Except, he didn’t know where they stood, and if she was this Rex guy’s daughter, that put Adam in a very complicated situation with no easy solution. The elevator dinged open and he rushed down the hall, past the housekeeping cart to Bree’s room. Why was the door ajar? He pushed it open, stepped inside. “Bree?”
A short, stocky, forty-something woman in a pale blue uniform stared back at him from across the room. She stood beside the bed, a ball of sheets in front of her. Housekeeping? Was Bree gone? No, no, she couldn’t be. Adam advanced into the room, tried to keep his voice calm, and asked, “The woman who was in this room? Did you see her?”
“No. I didn’t see anyone.” She darted a glance at him as though afraid she might have done something wrong.
The only people who’d done anything wrong were Bree and himself. They should have introduced themselves and stopped with the games last night. People didn’t pretend they were somebody else, at least not people in his world. “Do you know if she checked out or are you just cleaning the room?” Maybe she’d run out and would be back in a few minutes. Another glance at his watch told him it was 11:05 a.m. Maybe she wasn’t punctual…maybe she’d gotten hungry… But when the housekeeper said the dreaded words checked out he had to acknowledge the other, very real possibility.
Maybe she hadn’t wanted to see him again.
4
N atalie Servetti wanted a second chance so desperately she was willing to do just about anything, short of offering sexual favors, to get it. She’d done that years ago, tried to buy her way to love, commitment, and marriage. When she failed, she decided if she couldn’t have them or the men attached to them, then nobody would. That’s when she’d gone after other women’s men—boyfriends, husbands, fathers, little brothers—none of it mattered except making those men want her, even if they only wanted the sex and not her.
She could blame her screwed-up life and notions about relationships on her parents because Lydia and Ernest Servetti believed their “princess” had no other duty than to look beautiful and make men desire her. They never taught Natalie about being responsible, trustworthy, or kind. Why should she concern herself with those things when people adored her, thought her the most beautiful and desirable creature walking this earth? Imagine that! They ignored the little Italian dumpling cousin, Gina, treated her with disregard and distaste. The world belonged to their long-legged, tiny-waisted daughter and as Natalie matured, she grew more beautiful, more
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