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GiGi shook her head at that suggestion. “I know we need to keep from making any kind of open, public acknowledgment of wrongdoing so we don’t have people coming out of the woodwork to sue us for things the Camdens didn’t do—”
“Big corporations and money make for easy targets,” Derek confirmed. “And you know there are stories out there accusing us of stuff that didn’t happen—so, yeah, if we say some of the accusations are well founded, there’ll be an avalanche of see-I-told-you-so lawsuits for unfounded complaints that will tie us up in court until hell freezes over.”
“We also don’t want to come out and say that H.J. and your grandfather, father and uncle really were involved in underhanded business practices—there’s family loyalty at stake here, too,” GiGi said under her breath, because this was something that she didn’t discuss if Jonah, Margaret or Louie were around.
“So a payout would be a whole lot easier, but it wouldn’t protect us,” Derek acknowledged.
“And we wouldn’t necessarily achieve our goal of making amends with a simple payout,” GiGi added. “In this case in particular, just donating some money might not be the best answer for the Bronsons. Jean says they have no family. No one beyond that Gia girl—and she’s only a neighbor—to look after them or help them. They’re in their eighties, so there are some health problems, and Jean isn’t sure they should be living on their own anymore. And what if one of them dies and the other is left all alone—?”
“You want to just move them in here?” Derek joked.
“You know how I feel about this one, Derek. It’s going to need some involvement on our part for what remains of the Bronsons’ lives,” GiGi insisted. “And you know that just donating money doesn’t guarantee that the money will get into the right hands or get used in the ways it should be used, especially down the road. We have to know that these people have whatever they need to finish out their lives—financially and otherwise. And their needs can change depending on how their health or situation changes. We have to have some kind of presence in their lives. So you have to make nice with them. Win them over and establish a relationship with them so we can help later on, too, if need be. For their sake.”
“I touched on some of that with Gia. But I still couldn’t even get in the door....”
“Well, you’re going to have to do whatever it takes to accomplish that, honey. Maybe first you’ll have to win over the guard at the gate....”
That brought a vivid image of Gia Grant to mind—something that had been happening at the drop of a hat since he’d met her last night.
Maybe because of that hair, he thought.
That hair was just great!
Every time the memory of it popped into his head it made him smile.
Full and thick and shiny and wildly curly...
That was probably why it appealed to him. He liked things that were a little on the wild side.
And he’d loved that hair....
Plus, she had big, beautiful brown eyes the color of espresso sprinkled with gold dust.
And peaches-and-cream skin that didn’t show a single flaw.
And a straight nose that turned up almost imperceptibly and just a little impudently at the end.
And a picture-perfect mouth that was exactly the kind he liked to kiss because her lips were slightly full and sumptuous-looking....
All on top of a body that was tight but still soft and curvaceous even if she wasn’t particularly tall....
Oh, yeah, he’d done a lot of thinking about Gia Grant since last night....
For no reason he could put his finger on.
“I did ask her to intervene on my behalf, but she wasn’t too optimistic that she could convince the Bronsons to accept anything from us,” he told his grandmother when he’d pulled himself out of his thoughts of Gia.
“Like I said, win her over first, then,” GiGi advised. “The better she likes you, the more apt she is to sell you to the Bronsons. And from what I understand from Jean, that shouldn’t be too painful for you—Jean says she’s never met a nicer, friendlier, more helpful person, and that she’s beautiful to boot and doesn’t even seem to know it. So she’s humble, too. I know Jean has her eye on her for Lucas once his divorce is final, and she and the other ladies in her church committees are all worried that their pastor is very taken with this Gia Grant—”
“So wouldn’t that make her perfect for their pastor—a paragon of virtue like that?”
“Shame on you for saying that like it’s a bad thing! That’s what gets you into trouble.”
No truer words were ever spoken, so Derek couldn’t deny it. Besides, he didn’t dare. Not after his most recent blunder, the one that had really caused him to cross the line.
The one he wanted to kick himself over.
The one that had cost him a bundle and most of his dignity....
“If she’s all that your friend says she is, why wouldn’t the church ladies want her for their pastor?” he asked more respectfully.
“She’s divorced.”
“And that’s an issue?”
“It’s only an issue when it comes to their minister—they want someone purer for him, I guess. Plus, like I said, Jean wants Gia for Lucas—”
“Lucas Paulie is a weasel,” Derek said, not understanding why it rubbed him wrong to think of the woman he’d spent all of about five minutes with either the church pastor he didn’t know or the guy he did know.
“I didn’t realize you disliked Lucas Paulie so much,” GiGi said.
“I just wouldn’t wish him on some poor unsuspecting do-gooder.”
“There it is again, Derek James Camden! Do-gooder—that is not a bad thing. A nice girl is what you need. You’d better start looking for one and stay away from what you’ve been bringing around here since you were a teenager. Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?”
“I have, Georgie,” he said on a sigh. “I just can’t help it if the...tame ones don’t do it for me. I like a little spice.”
“What you’ve brought around here is not a little spice. And this last one—”
“I know. You don’t have to tell me—again—how damn stupid that was.”
“And yet here you are, barely out from under the mess you were in, looking down your nose at someone doing some good.”
“I’m not looking down my nose at Gia Grant.”
He was doing anything but that, if the truth be known. He sure as hell hadn’t been thinking bad things about her since last night.
It just didn’t matter. He knew the way things went for him—regardless of how beautiful the woman, regardless of how much he might respect and admire her or what she was doing, in no time the good girls just couldn’t keep his interest. In no time they started to seem ordinary. They started to get predictable. They started to bore him to tears.
But he wasn’t a kid anymore. And he had no business letting himself be sucked into situations with the bad girls anymore.
It had been bad enough when he was a kid, but now it was inexcusable. Especially when it embarrassed the whole family right along with himself. Like this last time.
Which was why he was lying low. Why he was doing some self-imposed penance by staying away from all women for a while. Why he was putting his energies into work and the Camden Foundation and trying to make things up to the Bronsons the way his grandmother had asked him to. Even if he was reasonably sure that his grandmother’s intent was to keep him well-occupied so he wouldn’t have time to get involved with anyone else for a while.
Not that he could blame her....
“I gave Gia Grant my card and told her if I didn’t hear from her I’d track her down,” Derek said then, ignoring how much he was looking forward to seeing her again. “She apparently lives next door to the Bronsons, so even if I have to knock on the wrong door before I get the right one, I’ll find her. Then maybe I can try to go through her to get to the Bronsons. I think she may have seen the benefit of our help over her donation jars and church volunteers, but whether or not she can convince the Bronsons—”
“You’ll find a way in,” Georgianna said.
“I really will, Georgie. I’m not going to let you—or any of the rest of the family—down again.”
“I hope not,” GiGi said. “Maybe you should try to let this Grant girl be a good influence on you for a change....”
“You never know,” he said, rather than defend himself the way he might have done before the latest fiasco. “But for now I’d better get back to the office.”
GiGi nodded. As she reached to turn the water on again, she said, “You’re a good boy, Derek. I don’t know why you have such a soft spot for bad girls. Maybe you can turn over a new leaf.”
“Tryin’, Georgie, I’m tryin’.”
But even as Gia Grant’s oh-so-lovely face came to mind again, he wondered if he could.
* * *
“A chicken and steaks and a roast, Gia? You could freeze these, you know,” Marion lectured.
“I already froze a bunch. It’s cheaper to buy at the bulk warehouse, but I end up with more than I can use. You’re helping me out by taking some of it.” It was the same thing Gia said every time she brought Larry and Marion groceries. Their budget was so strapped that meat had become a luxury item. But pride wouldn’t allow them to let Gia provide that for them unless she made it sound as if they were doing her a favor. So that was the slant she put on it.
“Well, thank you. You’re too good to us,” Marion said as she put away the groceries that included some other things Gia knew they liked but couldn’t afford for themselves.
“Let’s open one of those beers right now,” Larry suggested.
Marion obliged her husband and opened the cupboard to get glasses. “Will you have some of this, Gia?”
“No, you guys go ahead,” she said. She declined their offers every time, too.
“I know you didn’t buy this for yourself,” Marion said as she poured the beer into two glasses.
Gia laughed. “And I know how much you and Larry like your little swig of beer before dinner,” she said, using the term they used.
They were in the Bronsons’ kitchen late Tuesday afternoon. Gia had left work at three o’clock, done some shopping and was now delivering groceries as a pretext for what she really came to talk to the Bronsons about.
The couple had been in such good spirits when they’d left the church the night before that Gia hadn’t wanted to dampen them by bringing up Derek Camden. But he’d somehow gotten her cell phone number and left a message this afternoon about the status of persuading Larry and Marion to let him help them.
Gia hadn’t returned his call yet, but his invitation to meet her for coffee at seven to talk had inspired this visit.
And given the boring evening she was facing a whole new spin....
Not that she was eager to see Derek Camden again, she told herself. Even if he had shadowed her thoughts since she’d first set eyes on him last night. It was just that she didn’t have anything else to do tonight and hopefully the evening would end up benefitting Larry and Marion.
When they were all seated around the Bronsons’ aged, scarred kitchen table, Gia said, “There’s something I want to talk to you guys about. You didn’t know it last night, but a Camden showed up at the church—Derek Camden....”
Marion looked alarmed. Larry was instantly angry.
“What’re they doing, coming for the money you’ve raised to help us?” Larry said.
“Didn’t they get enough when they took everything from us? Are those richy-riches even after our pennies now?” Marion said, her tone harsh.
This was the reason Gia hadn’t wanted Derek Camden to crash last night’s get-together.
“There’s no way they could get hold of what’s been donated—that’s in a secure account at the bank under your names and mine,” Gia assured them. Then she added cautiously, “Derek Camden said he came to help... I’m not sure how—”
“Some way that’ll put more in his pocket!” Larry again.
“They’re probably looking to take our house now!” Marion said, sounding genuinely afraid. “Like with the hotel—right when we were struggling to keep it, they swooped in and made it so we couldn’t. Now when the bank wants the house, they’re coming for that, too!”
“No, no, no,” Gia said quickly, trying to calm the elderly woman’s fears. “I’m sure they don’t want your house—”
“They probably want the whole block. The whole area for another one of their damn stores!” Larry said, getting more and more worked up. “You’d better watch out, Gia, they could be coming for your place, too!”
“They already have two stores nearby—the one that was built where your hotel was, and the one on Colorado Boulevard. And we’re zoned residential—”
“They pay off people to change zoning—don’t be fooled by that,” Larry contended.
Gia had known this was not going to be easy. “Okay, I know how you both feel about the Camdens—and with good reason—”
“You bet we have reason—they robbed us,” Larry ranted.
“I know—”
“Dirty crooks!” This from Marion.
“But what was done to you two was a long time ago, by H. J. Camden. And I’m not defending what he did—” Gia said quickly, because she could see that more comments were coming from the elderly couple “—but H. J. Camden is long gone and maybe—just maybe—the Camdens in charge now want to make up for what H. J. Camden did....”
“Did they say that? Did they admit what he did? Because we couldn’t prove anything, but if they confessed, maybe we can sue their pants off now!” Larry sounded excited by the prospect.
“He didn’t admit anything,” Gia said. “Derek Camden only claimed that he wanted to help.”
“How could we ever sue them even if they confessed?” Marion reasoned with her husband. “We’d still be going up against a million of their lawyers. And with what? Where would we even find a lawyer to take them on? Or hire one with no money? They’d crush us like bugs—again!”
“But the three of us know that they still owe you,” Gia said, hoping to ride the wave of Marion’s logic. “Derek Camden said they want to help financially, but that they also want to make sure you guys are taken care of all the way around. And we could use help like that....”
“Not from Camdens we couldn’t!” Larry proclaimed.
“We could, though,” Gia said gently. “We’ve raised a few thousand dollars and we have people coming over to help clean up the yard and paint the house, but a few thousand dollars isn’t going to keep the bank from foreclosing for long—the best it will do is pay some of the back payments and stall so we can sell the house after it’s been fixed up.”
Gia hated—hated—when she had to remind them of the cold, hard facts, because it just deflated them both and made them look as old as they were. Both were white haired—Larry only had a wreath of hair around a mostly bald head, and Marion wore hers in a short style she cut herself. There wasn’t an ounce of fat or much muscle left on Larry’s five-foot-eight frame, and Marion could easily qualify as frail—she was barely five feet tall and didn’t weigh a hundred pounds. They both had blue eyes that still showed a zest for life, and ordinarily they both stood straight and moved fairly spryly. But whenever they discussed their current predicament, it just sucked the life out of them right before Gia’s eyes.
“You know I’m with you if that’s the best we can do,” she added to reassure them. “My basement apartment is yours and I’d love to have you with me. But I know that neither one of you wants to do that. You want to stay in this house. And with the kind of money the Camdens have...” She shrugged. “Not that Derek Camden made any promises, but if there’s any chance left of coming up with enough to maybe keep you here...”
“I still think they have something up their sleeve,” Larry grumbled.
“You can’t trust them,” Marion concurred.
And they both sounded so beaten that it broke Gia’s heart.
But as much as she wanted to side with them and tell them she would throw whatever Derek Camden offered back in his face on their behalf, she had to look out for what was best for them. And if the Camdens followed through on their promise, it could mean better than what she’d been able to accomplish.
“I’ll do anything you want. This is completely up to you,” she told them, in hopes of making them feel as if they had some control, some power, some choice in the matter. “But if you’ll accept help from the Camdens, I’ll make sure there are no strings attached to anything they give. That there’s nothing up their sleeve. That nothing about this can hurt you—”
“Or you,” Marion contributed.
“Or me—in any way. And if you never want to set eyes on Derek Camden or any other Camden—”
“Get him over here to pull weeds and let me turn the hose on him,” Larry muttered.
“You can’t turn the hose on someone like that,” Marion chastised. “He’d probably sue us!”
“I can turn my hose on anybody I want to turn my hose on,” Larry contended cantankerously.
“We could bring him lemonade while he works and lace it with laxative—then he’d never know what hit him!” Marion suggested, making Gia laugh.
“So you want me to get him over here to help work so you can have a little payback?” Gia asked, reasonably sure that they wouldn’t actually do either of the things they were threatening.
“A Camden working for us...” Marion mused.
“That’d serve them right,” Larry added.
Gia could tell that they were both finding some fuel in their retribution plots, and she was glad to see them rally.
“So you’ll let me talk to Derek Camden about what they’re offering? And you aren’t opposed to having him come over here and do some of the work?” she said, since she thought she should strike while the iron was hot.
“We don’t want anything to do with them,” Larry reiterated.
“No, we don’t,” Marion confirmed. “But you can take whatever they’re offering, Gia,” she said, as if anything coming from the Camdens through her made it more palatable. “As long as you watch them like a hawk—because they do owe us, and whatever helps you help us we’ll take.”
“But don’t say anything that lets them off the hook for anything, those lousy shysters!” Larry added.
Gia marveled at a phenomenon she’d witnessed before—sometimes it was as if they’d communicated with each other and come to a decision without ever having talked about it. Apparently seventy years of marriage put them on the same wavelength somehow. Or maybe they’d always been on the same wavelength and that was why they’d been able to stay married for so long.
But regardless of how they’d come to this particular conclusion, Gia was just glad they had.
“Then I’ll tell Derek Camden that we’ll take his help.”
The scowl on Larry’s face and the dour, forlorn creases on Marion’s brow told her how unwillingly the offer was being accepted. But Gia thought it was better to get out before they changed their minds. Besides, it would give the Bronsons some time alone to rant and rail about it to their hearts’ content while she went off to deal with Derek Camden.
And why she felt as excited as a teenager who had just finagled permission from her parents to see someone forbidden—who she really, really wanted to see again—Gia didn’t quite understand.
She was a long way from being a teenager.
Larry and Marion weren’t her parents.
And Derek Camden was forbidden because Gia was forbidding herself from him.
Because even if she was ready to date, she wouldn’t date a man like Derek Camden. She might not have a grudge against the Camdens the way Larry and Marion did, but her own past experience taught her to avoid men like Derek.
Her ex-husband was also a man with deep-rooted loyalties to a big, corrupt, ruthless, unprincipled clan-like family, and that was a hot-button issue for her.
So Derek Camden was not someone she would even consider getting involved with.
Personally anyway.
For Larry and Marion’s sake, she would have contact with him—and she would watch him like a hawk, as Marion had ordered—but that was the beginning and end of it.
So any sort of excitement at the thought of seeing him again was something to squash hard and fast.
Which she did as she said goodbye to the Bronsons and left them sitting at the table.
And yet on her way home, a tiny blip of excitement still registered when she started to consider what she was going to wear to see him tonight....
* * *
When Gia returned Derek Camden’s call, he asked if they could meet at a Cherry Creek bakery rather than the coffee shop he’d suggested in his message.
It didn’t matter to Gia where they met, so she agreed. Then she fixed herself a sandwich for dinner and decided she couldn’t wear anything different for this meeting than what she had on.
Not that she didn’t want to change out of the brown slacks and tan pin-tucked blouse she’d worn to work. She just couldn’t let herself. This wasn’t a date and she needed not to forget that.
But she told herself that it was purely for her own comfort that she unleashed her hair from the ponytail it had been in all day, brushed it out and let it fall loose and full into its naturally curly mass.
And when it came to refreshing her blush and adding a neutral eye shadow, some eyeliner and more mascara, it was merely to look at the top of her game in order to warn him that he’d better not try to put one over on her.
Arriving at the bakery five minutes early, she spotted Derek Camden through the storefront windows as she pulled her sedan into a parking spot.
He was also still in work clothes, although he’d taken off his tie and suit jacket. He was wearing gray-blue suit pants and a pale blue dress shirt, and Gia’s first thought was that no one should look that good after a full day.
But there was just the hint of scruff to his sculpted jawline, and his dark hair was the ideal amount of disheveled; combined with the perfectly tailored shirt and pants, it formed a very sexy contrast.
A split second after the thought occurred to Gia, she reprimanded herself for it.
Handsome and sexy did not make the man. Handsome and sexy could, however, provide camouflage for something very ugly under the surface or behind the scenes.
It was a fact of life that she’d learned well and wouldn’t let herself forget.
It would have been easy to, though, because when she went into the bakery and Derek noticed her, he smiled a smile that said he liked what he saw. And it made her heart beat a little faster.
“Hi, thanks for coming,” he greeted her.
“Hi,” Gia responded simply.
“Excuse me just a minute.”
For a moment his attention turned back to the woman behind the counter. “So I can pick up the cake tomorrow at one—that’s great, just what I need.” Then, with a nod toward Gia, he said, “Let me add what we have now to the tab and I’ll settle up with you later?”
When the woman agreed, he said to Gia, “I don’t know if you’ve been here before, but you can’t go wrong with anything—”
“Lava cake, Bea,” Gia said to the woman, who was already taking one from the case and putting it on a plate.
“Heated with an extra dollop of hot fudge on top,” the woman recited her order from memory.
Derek laughed. “Ah, I see I’m not introducing you to anything new.”
“She’s our favorite chocoholic,” the owner of the bakery informed him.
He ordered lemon-meringue pie, and they both asked for iced tea. Then, while the shop owner got everything ready, Derek led Gia to one of the small café tables.
“We order all of our office celebration cakes here,” he explained. “Tomorrow I’m surprising my assistant with a little engagement party.”
A head-honcho Camden was ordering the cake himself? Her ex-husband and the rest of his family would never have bothered.
“How about you? How do you know this place?” he asked.
“I work around the corner and come at least once a day.”
Derek Camden’s well-shaped eyebrows rose. “Every day?” he said, taking a quick glance at her body as if wondering where the calories went.
“Sometimes it’s the only thing I eat all day,” she confessed.