Undercover With The Heiress. Nan Dixon

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      He leaned across the table. “I talked to Father.”

      “Oh.” She needed to regroup. “Mother’s working on him. He’ll relent.”

      “I don’t think so.” He sipped his drink. “Father wanted to know how you were working out.”

      “Just fine. It was a long drive, but I’m recovering.” She looked at her brother over the rim of the glass.

      “He wanted to know how you were settling into my new office.” He pointed at her with a stuffed jalapeño. “Stop playing stupid. You know what I’m talking about.”

      She shoved her plate out of the way and stood. She paced to the doorway and back. Maybe she’d taken the wrong tack. Maybe Gray could help her out of this mess. “He was mad because of some shoes. Shoes.”

      “Five thousand dollars’ worth of shoes.”

      She waved her hand. “You have to pay for quality.”

      “And you ran into the gate again.”

      She slipped back into her seat. “It was because of an animal this time.”

      “Right.” Exasperation wrinkled his face. “You have to do something with your life.”

      “With my fabulous literature degree?” She rolled her eyes.

      “You chose your major,” he snapped.

      “But I didn’t choose my school.”

      “Sure you did.” He frowned. “You chose Mother’s alma mater.”

      “I wanted Yale.” She bit her lip.

      “With our history there—” his black eyebrows formed a straight line “—you didn’t get in?”

      “I was accepted.” Of course her brother would think that she hadn’t had the grades, that she hadn’t been smart enough. “I test very well.”

      Gray rattled his drink. “I don’t understand.”

      “Father wouldn’t allow me to go to Yale because I wasn’t a serious student.” She stared at her food, not wanting to see the pity on Gray’s face.

      “I didn’t know. I would have argued for you. Helped you.” Gray tipped up her chin with his finger, forcing her to stare into sympathy-filled eyes. “But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t have had a different degree program.”

      Arguing with Father for months on end had sucked the motivation right out of her.

      “So, you’re working for me.” He tapped her nose.

      It was something he’d done when she was young, when she’d been upset. He’d been good at cheering her up. She tried to smile. “I could lay low until Mother convinces Father that this is ridiculous.”

      “You work for me, or you leave.” He forked a piece of enchilada into his mouth. “Since I haven’t finished the build-out on my office space, we’ll work out of the house. You start tomorrow.”

      He would make her leave? “Can’t you tell Father I work for you, but I don’t actually do anything?”

      “No.” Pity filled his face again. “We start at seven thirty. That means you’re up, moving and have eaten your breakfast.”

      “Lovely.” She had to keep this from happening.

      He pointed at her plate. “Are you going to eat that?”

      Her appetite was gone. “It’s all yours.”

      She headed into the library and refilled her margarita glass. Lord let her catch a horrible disease by tomorrow.

      * * *

      KADEN STEPPED INTO the Fitzgerald House kitchen and sniffed. Then sniffed again. His mouth watered at the scent of peppers, limes, tomatoes and onions.

      Nathan waved from the table. “You got my message.”

      “Hey, Kaden.” Abby set a dish on the table. “Grab a chair.”

      He took a seat across from Issy, hoping she would get comfortable with him.

      Gray and his sister came in through the swinging door. Damn, Courtney was gorgeous. His system absorbed the hit of her beauty like Kevlar absorbed the energy of a bullet.

      Courtney’s gaze slipped over to him. She looked shell-shocked. Then her smile emerged like a mask. Odd. She hadn’t smiled much last night.

      Gray sat next to Kaden and slapped him on the back. “Good to see you again.”

      “Thanks.”

      “Kaden’s taking on Nigel’s duties while he’s recuperating,” Abby called over. “He’ll stay in the carriage house apartment.”

      Cheryl pulled out pans of enchiladas from the oven and nodded to Kaden. “It will be nice to have you nearby.”

      Courtney’s pretty mouth dropped open. “Don’t you have a job?”

      “I’m...between assignments.”

      Her lips pursed, making an almost perfect pink circle. She touched a line forming above her eyebrows and it disappeared. “You’re a handyman?”

      She made it sound like it was worse than selling drugs on the street.

      “I learned from the best,” he said. “My granddad.”

      Gray glared at his sister. “Abby will feel better knowing you’re handling Nigel’s work.”

      Kaden turned away from Courtney’s derision and back to Issy. “I saw the beautiful mural in your old bedroom. Did you paint it?”

      She giggled. “Daddy did.”

      Josh stuck his thumb to his chest. “I helped.”

      “It’s wonderful.” And pink. Very pink.

      “Daddy’s painting a mural in our new house,” she whispered.

      “Your daddy’s very talented,” Kaden said.

      She tipped her head against her father’s chest. “I love Daddy.”

      How could Heather have ever put this little girl in jeopardy?

      “Eat,” Abby insisted. “Your next course is almost up.”

      They dug in. Kaden asked Issy about school, but Josh answered for her.

      Courtney caught his eye from across the table and winked at him. Winked? What was going on? Then she put her hand on Josh’s arm and asked, “How did you learn to draw so well?”

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