The house in Colorado was enormous, two full stories and sprawling in the pine forest. Windows glinted in the sunlight; rock and stucco created textures, colors, and tones indigenous to the area. Cami pulled into the ridiculously huge six-car garage and steeled herself to meet the others again. She hadn’t spoken to any of the others at Alex’s office, but she wouldn’t have that option here.
Alex told her everyone signed their contracts, including Delphi and Rosemary, despite their clear opposition. The trip to Colorado brought the situation into focus for Cami, made it far more real.
Every inch of the property was perfectly cared for from the well-swept balconies and patios to the landscaping, which blended beautifully into the surroundings, if you ignored the fact it was a little too perfect to be natural.
Even the garage was spotless without a bit of dirt in the corners. Someone was seriously OCD—not that Cami minded. Having staff around to keep things clean would make her life easier and cut back on bickering over whose turn it was to do the dishes. She didn’t miss those college dorm days at all.
Three cars were already here—all rentals, like hers. Lana was making the long drive from Chicago, planning to stay to oversee the last stage of the resort preparations. It was perhaps a bit outside the normal scope for a hotel manager, but she was, as always, an overachiever.
Cami snatched her purse, carryon, and a medium suitcase from the car to haul in. There would be time to go back for the largest bag. Before she reached the door to the house, however, a man with dark hair kissing his jaw and few days of beard scruff opened the outside door to the garage. “You need a hand?” he asked. He pulled off work gloves and set them aside, rubbing his palms on his blue jeans.
Cami couldn’t help but take a second to run her eyes over his tall figure—and it was easy to see all the muscles through his sleeveless white shirt. He had a smear of dirt on his face, and his brown eyes flashed over her with a similar quick perusal.
“I’m Vince Talmadge, by the way. I’m taking care of your landscaping, both here and at the hotel.” He extended a hand to her.
She found his palm hard, his fingers strong, but gentle. She met his gaze and felt a zing of interest flash between them, confusing her. He was completely unlike her usual type. “Nice to meet you. I do have another bag in the trunk, since you’re offering.” She clicked the remote, popping the trunk. “I’m Camellia.”
She glimpsed back over her shoulder as he reached into the trunk, so she caught his frown. “I thought you were only staying a few days,” he said. “How many clothes do you need?”
Guys just didn’t understand. “I’m not sure how long I’m staying. It depends on what I learn at the meeting tomorrow.” She held the door into the kitchen for him as he hefted the suitcase as if it weighed mere ounces instead of being so heavy, she’d barely managed to lift it into the trunk.
As he passed her, he snatched the medium-sized bag from her. “I’ll take this for you, too. Mrs. Grady should be around here somewhere. She’s been working like crazy for the past few weeks getting everything ready for you ladies. Sisters, right?”
“Something like that,” she murmured as she took in the gleam of glass, soaring ceilings and hardwood floors, the shine of chrome and calm presence of the dark marble countertops of the kitchen. Cooking in this place would be heaven. Not that she had much time for the activity. Or much skill at it—but in a room like this, she thought it would be a joy to learn more. Maybe it was time she learned more than the basics.
He caught her studying the room. “Some place, isn’t it? You won’t go knocking into each other here if you don’t want to, even if there are six of you. Hey, Mrs. Grady.” He looked toward the open stairwell, raising his voice. “You’ve got another arrival.”
A trim brunette in her sixties appeared at the top of the stairs in a pair of faded blue jeans and an oversized, men’s button-up shirt. “Wonderful. You’re Camellia, right?”
“Please, call me Cami. Which room is mine?” “Up here.”
Cami followed Vince up the free-standing stairs to the landing overlooking the great room and kitchen, and headed to the last room on the left. Vince left the bags outside the door.
“Thanks for your help,” she told him.
“No problem. If I hadn’t, Mrs. Grady would have insisted on going back for the big one herself.”
The woman laughed heartily. “I’m not exactly on my last leg, but thanks for helping out.”
He gave her a cheeky grin and turned to the stairs, calling over his shoulder. “I’ll be mulching the beds if anyone else needs a hand. And nice to meet you, Camellia.”
“Same here.” Cami watched him descend the stairs with the speed and grace of a gazelle before she turned back to Mrs. Grady. “Known him long?” She was curious to learn more about the man, despite her warning radar telling her to stand back. He wasn’t like the guys she normally dated, and right now, with her life being dictated to her, she was finding the difference a little too enticing.
“Forever. I used to keep house for one of his friends’ families.” She opened the bedroom door. “Now, check it out. Your father approved the redecorating himself.”
The walls were a vibrant peach with pale green trim and cream wooden blinds. The colors shouldn’t have worked, but they did. They were repeated in the bedding, the desk snugged up against one wall, and the bathroom on the other side of the room. The vase in the center of the long counter was flanked with double sinks and filled with peach and white camellias—fake so they wouldn’t wilt, but so realistic—if camellias had come in peach—as to trick the eye. Plenty of cupboard and shelf space was available, all in cream with a long wall of mirrors behind the sinks and two on hinges so they could be positioned to give her three angles while she did her hair and makeup.
A stereo system was set up with a stack of CDs by musicians Bobby Darin, Perry Como, Frank Sinatra, Michael Bublé, and Harrick Connick, Jr. Her heart melted a little when she realized the thought her father had put into making her comfortable.