Seducing an Heiress (18 page)

The floor was strewn with computer packaging and Chelsea sat at the front desk glaring at her new acquisition like it had personally descended to earth just to plague her. She looked up as they came in, surprise and then relief in her eyes. "Halleluiah, my wish has come true. Help is here." 

Then a crease dented between her brows. "I thought you'd both knocked off for the day."

Dakota wiped her sweaty palms on the thighs of her jeans. "Chels, I have something to tell you."

Looking back and forth between her face and Trey's, Chelsea's frown deepened. "You look like you're about to tell me my best friend died. You haven't, have you?"

Her best friend.
The ache in Dakota's throat bloomed upward. "Sort of."

Chelsea grew still, her gaze alert. 

"I've kind of been lying to you. About who I am."

To her bewilderment, a smile twitched across her friend's mouth. The worry in her eyes melted into a sparkle of amusement. "Do tell."

"What's so funny?" 

"Keep going. You were saying you're not who you are."

"I'm who I am, just not who you think I am." She sniffed back her tears. "My name isn't really Dakota Johnson. Well, it is because I changed it. But originally it was something else."

"Spit it out, D. You can do it," Chelsea encouraged.

Something was up. She straightened her back and her dread marginally retreated. Why wasn't her friend taking this more seriously? "You're not making this any easier, you know."

"I'm not trying to. I've waited a long time for you to come clean."

Dakota's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

Chelsea braced her elbows on the desk and leaned forward. "Okay, I'll go easy on you. You're really Dakota Jamison, the leather heiress. I've known the truth since you landed in town."

All the breath seemed to siphon out of her. Dakota staggered to a chair and flopped down. "You knew? Does Lori?"

"Everybody knows."

"The whole town?"

"Pretty much."

Dakota felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. All these months fretting over slipping up. The guilt. The worry. "How?"

"For one you look just like her. A pair of ugly glasses and a new do can fool most of the people most of the time, but not the discerning folks of Harts Creek. We're a little deeper than that."

"Why didn't anyone say anything? Especially when the picture came out."

"In big things, we mind our own business. We played along because we respect you for striking out on your own and wanting to be taken for who you were, not where you'd come from. This town was started by Jason Hart, you know. When he fell in love and gave up his outlaw ways, he cleaned up the town and became sheriff. Fresh starts are something we understand here."

Dakota glanced over at Trey who looked as stunned as she felt. He met her eyes and shrugged. "Didn't see that one coming."

*  *  *

Staring at the last paragraph on the page in her hand, Dakota couldn't help feeling like the lowest life form on the planet. She'd become the enemy, snooping into people's lives, looking for their weaknesses, trying to figure out how she could exploit their flaws.

She wondered what flaws she had that made her vulnerable to exploitation. As a teenager, all she'd wanted was for her father to value her. See her as important, as an asset. Maybe even to love her a little. 

With a start, Dakota realized those natural desires had turned into her flaws. As a master of manipulation, they had given her father all the leverage he needed to keep her under control.

She stared at the stiletto sandal sitting on her counter. In anger and frustration she'd turned her back on him and run away. Then she'd buried her feelings of loss instead of coming to grips with them. Because of that, she'd been blind to the opportunity to see beyond Trey's walls, to get to know him, even trust him a little.

It was time for her to release the disappointments of childhood and focus on the blessings in her life, now. Trey might eventually move on, but unlike Jack, she hoped their friendship would remain. It would ease the emptiness she knew he would leave behind.

An ache of sorrow moved through her, but she pushed it aside. She would grieve his leaving when it happened. Right now she had to worry about resolving the threat Aines posed.

Dakota held out the paper she held.

"Find something?" Trey asked, looking up from the stack of photos in his hand.

"He has two children. His daughter is brilliant. Scores off the charts in every test and subject. Wants to go to Harvard to study medicine. His son is handicapped. The care he requires costs a small fortune."

Trey took the page and quickly read over the information. "That explains a lot."

"I can't believe he only asked for two-hundred thousand."

"Blackmail never stops. He probably has plans to hit you up on a regular basis."

"That's what you meant by 'damage control, isn't it?'"

"Yup. Did you see this address? He doesn't live far from here."

She hadn't noticed that. "I thought he was from New York."

Reaching across the table, Trey leafed through another pile of papers. "Originally, but his wife is from Cleveland where she trained as a hair dresser. Look, here's a picture." 

When she saw it her stomach sank to her toes. "Oh, no." Dakota stared at the photo of the pleasant-looking woman. "Chicken noodle soup, no noodles."

"What?"

"She came in to Hearth and Home just last week. I remember because her order was so unusual. She asked me why I'd changed the color of my hair. She said red probably wasn't the best choice for me."

Trey grimaced. "A casual dinner conversation at home. Details about her day, where she'd had lunch. Maybe a description of the woman who didn't know squat about hair color. Aines got suspicious."

"He never came in. I would have noticed."

"A few pictures from a parked car would have given him all he needed."

A chill ran over her thinking about him spying on her like that. She felt violated and she glared at the sandal. "I don't feel as guilty about snooping into his private life, at least."

Leaning back in his chair, Trey turned his attention to the stiletto too. "He needs money for his kids, that's obvious. One for the care of his son. Two for his daughter's schooling. That's probably more than we can manage in one go." His gaze shifted to her. "Do you know anyone who can help the girl get a full scholarship?"

Memories of a past assignment for her father stirred in her mind. "Years ago I tipped off a guy when Dad was looking for investors in one of his shakier deals. With the promise of doubling his money in a matter of months, he was about to take his life's savings and put it into the scheme. He was a nice family guy. I couldn't let him get taken like that."

"How can he help?"

"He's poker buddies with the Associate Deans for Admin and Finance at Harvard's Medical school. Maybe he'd be willing to sponsor her." 

Trey's eyebrows rose a fraction. "Good. Check it out. That kind of connection might be worth something to Aines."

Dakota scribbled a note for herself on a scrap of paper. "What about money for the son's care?"

"For that he'll need a scoop." Trey leaned toward her and laid a hand on her knee. His warmth spread up her thigh, making her tingle in all the right places. "It's time to seriously consider the other half of my idea."

"Thanks for the mood killer." Dakota got up and retreated into the kitchen.

"What's wrong with changing the theme of your place?"

She poured herself a fresh cup of coffee. "I like it just the way it is, that's what's wrong. It's me. I don't want to change me."

"I'm not suggesting you abandon yourself. I'm suggesting you embrace yourself. He'll get his money and you'll get all the business you can handle."

"You don't know that."

"Remember, I witnessed the sale of that dress of yours. Trust me. The public will go wild for it." 

She chewed her bottom lip and stared out the window over her sink. Looking across the sprawling rooftops and cheerfully lighted windows of Harts Creek had always calmed her. But not tonight. 

If she refused would she have to say goodbye to the town that felt like home? How could she handle that and lose Trey too?

Dakota set her mug on the counter. It was time to face her past. All of it. She turned back to Trey. "All right, I'll do it, but it's going to take a miracle to pull this off."

"I don't believe in miracles. I'd stake my life on a good solid business deal, though."

*  *  *

The prospect of an economic boom had swept through the town like wildfire. He hadn't seen a community pull together like this since the day he lost his grandfather. 

The unexpected memory sent a punch of revelation through Trey. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten. 

But now the distant impression of neighbors swooping down on his grandfather's house and barring the way of the social worker rose up in his mind. The couple next door even went nose to nose with the sheriff, accusing him of being no better than a child abuser. 

The empty, cold spot under his solar plexus softened and grew a fraction warmer. Why hadn't he remembered? All his life he'd thought everyone he'd come to trust hadn't really cared, that they'd turned their backs on him. Irrationally, he'd believed that of Grandfather, too.

So he'd turned his back on humanity and focused on beating the world at its own, selfish game. He'd felt safe, but it had left him empty. 

Until he met Dakota.

Was it time to rethink his assumptions? Did he dare to open up, just a little?

An uncomfortable itch grated through in his stomach. Or had being around all these wholesome people turned him into nothing but a sappy idiot? 

Mentally disengaging from the trap of self analysis, Trey turned his attention to watching the rotund Mrs. Aster barrel into Aines in front of the post office. The collision knocked the guy sideways and sent the large manila envelope in his hand flying. Right into a convenient mud puddle. Apparently, the good citizens of Harts Creek were taking no chances on him sending pictures off before they were ready.

Aines started cursing at her and Mrs. Aster rounded on him, giving the guy what looked like the tongue lashing of the century. His face turned red and he backed down, meekly retrieving the ruined package. 

As he skulked away, Trey almost felt sorry for the reporter. He had no idea the elaborate spying system Dakota's friends had set up. They knew his every move. Probably before he did.

Trey closed the curtains of the new Missing Heiress Café and went over to the table where Dakota had her laptop set up. The place was still closed for renovations and it bustled with activity.

Chelsea and Lori along with two other women worked in one corner on a new sign for the restaurant. On the far wall, some local long-haired artist painted a modern-style cityscape scene featuring a decked out Dakota riding in a stretch limo. On the other wall, Mrs. Tilster ordered her teenage grandson around like a battleship commander as they worked on grouping the numerous magazine shots of Dakota, including the recent photos taken in Cincinnati. 

Trey had added his carpentry skills by renovating the counter area and expanding the storage in the kitchen. Working with his hands again had been gratifying, adding to the list of personal revelations that his time in Harts Creek had given him. There was a lot he was going to miss about this place.

Behind him, Dakota cursed under her breath. She'd been working on the new menu for the last hour. By the sound of it, things weren't going too well.

"Having trouble?" Trey pulled a chair over, flipping it around before he sat down. He rested his arms on the top of the back.

"Whenever I let myself think about what I'm about to do, I feel exposed."

"You were brave enough to defy your father. Now you get to defy public opinion, too."

She looked at him, her expression troubled. "I'm a little scared. I almost didn't get out of there the first time. Once Dad finds out where I am..."

"Screw Dad."

She blinked at him like the concept of completely dismissing her father had never occurred to her. Then a hesitant smile lifted her beautiful mouth. "Maybe I'm not as used to the idea of being independent as I thought."

"Let me see what you have so far." He turned the laptop around and scanned the menu she was designing. "I'll have Going Clubbing Potato Soup with a Make Mine a Nooner cinnamon bun. And add one of those Five Carat Heiress muffins while you're at it." He grinned at her. "I feel naughty just saying it."

Dakota chuckled. "That's the idea.'" Her expression sobered. "What about families, though?"

"Have a separate list of choices for the kids and put a PG-13 rating on the grown-up menus."

"Titillating." She quirked a brow at him.

"Always." He stood, then on impulse, leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Even that brief touch had him wanting to do a lot more, but with a room full of people he wasn't sure she'd appreciate the gesture.

 She hid her surprise by turning back to the computer. But she couldn't quite suppress the way her face glowed with pleasure.

"I better go," he said, realizing if he didn't leave now he never would.

Her expression sobered. "Be careful. You can't trust him."

"This is about good business. Trust has nothing to do with it."

A troubled look passed over her face, but she wished him luck and turned back to her computer without saying anything.

 As he left the restaurant, Trey felt acutely aware that he'd let her down, but he wasn't sure exactly how. She wasn't coming to trust him, was she? 

Dakota was a smart woman, she would never do that. The possibility disturbed him.

He didn't want to be responsible for her trust. To have something as priceless as that...would be a complete game changer.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Trey knocked on the door of Aines' hotel room. Phase two was about to begin.