Unmistaken Identity Page 3

  Flynn putted his ball and overshot. He swore and glared at the offending green. “I’ll beat you at this yet.” He settled in for another shot. “Have you notified Sam’s piece of ass her reckoning has come?”

  “She’s been trying to confront me every day since.” Wes gulped as he thought of pink bangs and a little tongue he was sure would’ve been all over his dick within minutes if it weren’t for the phone call.

  Laughing, Flynn adjusted his stance to putt again. “What are you waiting for, dude? Rip into her.”

  Oh, he’d rip into her all right. “Just so happens, I met her at my club.”

  Flynn’s gaze popped off the ball. “And did it get ugly?”

  Wes’s grin had to look like he’d nailed a hole in one. “No, because I told her my name was Sam.”

  “Story. Now.” Flynn straightened and waited.

  Other golfers were making their way to their hole. Wes didn’t care to share his private business with the world. “Make your damn shot and I’ll keep talking.”

  Flynn swung the club down and hit the ball without looking. He cocked a brow toward Wes.

  “Fine. She came in asking for me, so I went to check her out. I realized who she was and that she didn’t know it was me.” He lifted a shoulder. “So I decided to tell her my name was Sam and find out what had made my dad willing to hand over a major piece of property to her.”

  “Did you?”

  Yes. “Almost. Supposedly, she got a call that her mom was in the hospital.”

  “You don’t believe her?”

  “Maybe. It’d be a good setup.” Wes had thought about it while waiting for his driver. She’d mysteriously gotten a call and called it quits before they’d hit it. It wasn’t like a hookup would follow her into the ER, but she could snag his sympathy and use it to squeeze him dry.

  “So now what?”

  Wes pinned his friend with a determined stare. “Now I wait for her to call. I can sample the goods while getting my revenge.”

  He’d expected a fist bump from Flynn, but his friend wore a slight frown. “What if she plays you, too?”

  “No way. I’m in this with my eyes open. She’s the one who doesn’t know who I am.”

  “Whatever, dude. Keep me posted so I can tell you to abort the mission when she starts draining your wallet. She’s going out of business thanks to you, by the way.”

  Wes studied his friend. Genuine concern emanated from him. As if Mara could get one over on Wes.

  They hopped into the golf cart and jetted to the next hole.

  “So what’s she look like?” Flynn draped his arm over the wheel and flashed the dimple-baring grin that brought the girls flocking, along with the limit-free credit card.

  Wes blew out a breath. He wished he could say she looked like a wet mutt that’d been homeless and out in the rain for a month. “Pretty, in a simple way. Beautiful, really, and all without much makeup.” He settled back and let the images of Mara laughing and dancing run through his head. “She had her hair in ponytails, but it was cute. She’s short, too, but doesn’t seem like it because she’s not, like, meek or anything.”

  Flynn studied him, saying nothing.

  Irritation spiked. “What?”

  “I thought you’d just say she’s hot. Or she’s fugly. But I’d swear you’re going to break out in song, spout some poetry.”

  Wes clenched his jaw. He wasn’t enamored.

  He wasn’t.

  “I have to know my target.”

  Flynn grunted but didn’t sound convinced.

  “I know it might all be contrived. Mara’s a woman in a male-dominated business. I doubt Sam was the only one who ‘helped’ her along the way.”

  Especially after seeing her house. Had all of her money gone into the store, or had she spent it on exotic vacations? He made a note to check into it.

  A simple, bordering on rundown, house would give the effect that she had nothing and needed help.

  They climbed out of the cart and chose their next clubs. Flynn asked, “When do you see her again?”

  “After this, I’ll go to the office and get some work done. If she hasn’t called by then, I’ll text her.”

  “Maybe you should play hard to get.”

  What if that kept him from her bed? No, he wanted more than a nibble of Mara Jade.

  ***

  Mara rubbed her eyes and blinked away her tiredness. It didn’t help.

  “Are you all right?” Ephraim, one of her regulars, glanced at her while he meticulously arranged the pieces of his Axis & Allies game. The light from her store danced over his dark hair as he bent over the table. He was probably about her mom’s age, but where her mom was dependent on a wheelchair, he was a trim and fit with an athletic six-foot frame.

  She shot him a reassuring smile. “Late night for all the wrong reasons.”

  “Your mom?”

  Mara’s heart twisted. Not just at the reminder of why she’d been up late, but that her regulars had become such a mainstay of her life, not just her store. She considered many of them friends. They gave her sound business advice and recommended various items she should stock. She rarely failed to heed their advice—after much consideration, of course, thanks to therapy.

  “She’s in the hospital again. I can’t thank you enough for recommending Golden Meadows Living Center. They’ve taken such good care of her.” Mara thanked her stars that she could afford quality care for her mom every time she walked into the clean, cheery facility.

  Ephraim’s expression crinkled with tenderness. He inspected the minute game pieces before setting each one down. “They took good care of my dad, and then Mom when she developed dementia. I’m glad it’s working out.” He straightened and clapped his hands. “So where are these players you promised me?”

  The door chimed and another frequent customer entered.

  Mara grinned. “Here’s at least one. Over here, Joe.”

  Magic players, none of them old enough to drink, were already deep into their game at the tables in the corner. More teenagers lined her monitors, comatose at the Xbox while trying various video games. Another piece of advice from her clientele. She sold many games because they were able to try them out first at her store. Or it drew them into her store, where they spent money on other items.

  Joe grinned as he approached, his features always what she’d thought of as fatherly. Probably because he had five grown kids. “Where’s this hours-long strategy game you mentioned?”

  She introduced the two men. “I think Stella said she’d be a little late, but you two go ahead and set it up since it takes forever.”

  Ephraim paused over his setup. “Have you heard from the big guy’s kid yet?”

  Mara’s shoulders stiffened. She hadn’t told her customers about the store closing. Five weeks remained before she had to shut her doors. Monday she’d put up the notice. She’d give herself today to pretend it was business as usual.

  Another day where Sam wouldn’t be strolling in with his booming laugh and Star-Trek-versus-Star-Wars mentality. He would’ve hated a game like Axis & Allies, but he’d wander the store and chat up the young players, coax their future dreams out of them and encourage their ability. More than once, she’d caught the wistful, and often remorseful, look on his face when he thought no one was looking.

  Poor guy. Money hadn’t saved him from heartbreak. Probably caused it.

  She rested back on a table. Usually on Saturdays, she made rounds to everyone playing, manned the register, and did menial cleaning. It was early yet, so not many paying customers roamed the place.

  “Do you know anything about him?”

  If anyone knew, it’d be Ephraim. On weekdays, he’d come in for the monthly pile of comics she reserved for him and he’d be dressed in a sharp suit and tie. She’d discovered he was a lawyer and they often discussed the business goings-on in the city. He was a wealth of information. Today he was slightly dressed down in pressed slacks and a polo.

  He drummed his
fingers on the back of a chair. “I heard that Wesley Robson thinks himself the next real estate tycoon. He put a bid on a stretch across the river, thinks St. Paul needs a premium outlet mall.”

  One never needed an outlet mall, but she enjoyed the one in Albertville. No one would guess by her daily choice in clothing: jeans or leggings, simple top, and shoes that stretched back to her college days. Going into fall, she might throw on a flannel to set off whatever color she had in her hair.

  But her shopping days were limited, at least until she found another job or reopened her store somewhere else. Did she dare use any of her stored funds to do that?

  “Sam talked about him and what he did for a living, but they weren’t close when he died.” They’d gotten into long, in-depth discussions about their various family issues, but Sam’s family drama made hers miniscule in comparison.

  Joe quietly read through directions for the game, but his furtive glances hinted he was eavesdropping.

  Ephraim took a seat and frowned at the board. “I’ve heard bits here and there. He’s been buying up property in more than Minnesota. There was a kerfuffle in New York because he purchased a place that locals wanted to restore.” His brows pinched. She guessed the young Robson hadn’t restored the place.

  “Mr. Robson isn’t a people person.” Joe abandoned the instructions and picked up figures from the game to inspect them one by one.

  “You know him?” A surge of excitement falsely lifted her spirits. Even if Joe was besties with Wesley Robson, she didn’t have a leg to stand on. He owned the strip mall and he wanted to demolish it.

  Joe pushed up his wire-rimmed glasses and pointed across the street where an office building loomed over her store. Also Wes’s property, his main offices she’d learned when she’d gone hunting him for answers. “I work for him. Maintenance.”

  He’d mentioned what he did for a living before, but he didn’t often discuss work. But perhaps he’d be willing to fill her in. Although his somber tone didn’t encourage Mara’s hopes that she’d get anywhere when she was finally able to track Wesley Robson down. “That bad?”

  Joe fiddled with the figures. “He’s in it for the money.”

  Mara realized they were talking about the man’s ultimate boss. No reason to threaten Joe’s employment, too. She changed the subject. “I didn’t know you worked so close by.”

  He bobbed his head and they fell into easy chatting that transitioned into gaming. Mara forgot her troubles as the store grew busier. If she’d been able to stay, she would’ve had to think about hiring someone for the weekends and even being open for a few hours on Sunday.

  But no more. Her excitement and optimism that her store would grow and be successful for decades, sustaining her and her employees, were dashed.

  She had to find that man and talk to him.

  Chapter Four

  Mara’s stomach rumbled as she sat bedside with her mom. She should’ve grabbed supper, but work had been busy and she hadn’t wanted to put off the hospital visit. By working all day, she’d missed all the doctors’ rounds and updates.

  Her mom glanced away from the latest superhero movie Mara had brought. “Even I heard that. Go eat.”

  “I can stay a little longer.” Mara palmed her phone and lied to herself that she wasn’t waiting for Sam to call. But who was she kidding? He was sweet enough to drive her to the hospital, but she doubted she’d made enough of an impression to warrant him hunting her down.

  Unless he had other plans with someone else. No, she wouldn’t go down that road, being suspicious of every prospective guy.

  “Mara.” Her mother sighed. “I love having you around but not when it costs you your own health. I’m going to fall asleep soon. Go grab a bite and get some rest.”

  The corner of Mara’s mouth lifted. Always a mother. “Okay, but I want to be here tomorrow to hear what the doctors have to say.”

  “They’ll probably release me. I’m feeling better and not in the middle of a flare-up.” She shifted in the bed as much as she could. Her disease had robbed much of her mobility. Some people lived decades with MS, but her mom had deteriorated rapidly.

  Mara’s phone vibrated with a text. A ping of excitement speared her. Could it be?

  Maybe it was just Chris telling her about a new find on eBay they should purchase for the store. She dabbled in pawning collectibles, but only because he had oodles of knowledge and a passion for it. It’d made a nice income stream on top of her regular sales. Chris got a raise and permission to fully geek out over an old tin Spiderman lunch box, and the store garnered a solid reputation.

  She peeked at her screen.

  Holy moly! It read Sam. Hungry?

  She jerked her gaze back up to her mom, who watched her with interest.

  “Hot date?” Her mom’s lips quirked.

  “Maybe.” She relished these moments where they could be a normal mom and daughter.

  “Good. Don’t let him break your heart.”

  Mara kissed her mom good-bye and rushed out of the hospital room. She texted back.

  I haven’t eaten yet. Meet at Blue Hound?

  An immediate answer. Can I get dropped off there?

  A thousand yeses! U like driving my car that much?

  Gimme ur keys.

  With a grin, she strained to keep from sprinting out of the hospital.

  ***

  Wes dubiously eyed the burger joint. This was where Mara wanted to eat?

  She’d invited him and he’d half expected her to choose a place with a price tag that she’d let him pick up. After a day of golfing, he wasn’t overdressed for Blue Hound. Hell, he didn’t think there was a way to underdress.

  Instead of sleek lines, the exterior was comprised of roughened wood and cheap paneling. Whenever the door opened, rowdy laughter drifted out. The smell of meat-on-grill teased his stomach, but he doubted the cut of meat was close to any quality his personal chef used.

  A car engine turned his head. Mara and her reliable sedan were pulling in. He tracked her progress like a guard dog, ignoring the thrill at her arrival.

  She killed the engine and got out, but he still couldn’t see her. Darkness set in Minnesota well before nine p.m. this time of year. Light glowing from street lamps scattered around the parking lot highlighted the messy style she’d thrown her hair up in. When she cleared the cars, she looked just as adorable and doable as when she’d changed out of her clubbing clothes. Black and red leggings—was that an Iron Man design?—and an oversized red sweater with a lightning bolt.

  Mixing Marvel and DC. Equal opportunity fangirl?

  And the fact that he knew the difference… He mentally shook his head.

  He frowned. She’d said she hadn’t eaten yet, but he hadn’t thought about why. Arcadia closed at six on Saturdays. He knew, he’d done his research on the place.

  What had she been doing?

  She faltered when she noticed his expression.

  He smiled, purposely infusing warmth into his expression. “There she is.”

  “I didn’t think you’d beat me here.” She crossed her arms to ward off the chill in the air.

  He wouldn’t be surprised if she had a Wookiee coat stashed away.

  “Traffic was light.” He’d been in the area. His office was close by. So was Arcadia. Must be how she knew about this place. He opened the door for her.

  Stepping in, he cringed when his running shoes crunched on peanut shells. Good thing he hadn’t changed clothes before he’d spent the evening working. Crunching his Paul Andrews through shells and burger grease would get his account at Barneys New York suspended.

  The dull roar in the restaurant wasn’t unlike his club, but it was more boisterous. Odd, since there wasn’t a dance floor. Booths and tables and peanut shells as far as he could see.

  Mara slid her hand into his and pulled him toward the bar. “They have the best food here. I thought about stopping at the hospital cafeteria, but I got out of work late and by the time I got there, they’d
shut down the grill. I wanted real food.”

  He dropped her hand like it was hot when he realized he didn’t want to let go of it to sit. They settled at a table and a young woman took their order. Wes didn’t fail to notice the special smile she gave him. As long as the girl didn’t know who he really was, he wouldn’t give her a second thought.

  He caught Mara’s smirk.

  “That must happen to you everywhere.” No jealousy tinged her words.

  She was right. It did. He rolled a shoulder and sipped his water. “It must to you, too.”

  She barked out a laugh and then paused when she saw he wasn’t chuckling. “Oh, you’re serious. Not really, no.”

  Either she was playing coy or she was truly oblivious. When his bartender had called, he’d labeled her a “hot chick.” The young host of this joint had damn near wet himself to greet her when they’d walked in. Her girl-next-door appeal must be what caught the men. And those damn leggings showing off the curves of her legs.

  Wes decided it was time to dig for info. “How’s your mom?”

  She pursed her lips and stirred her soda. “She’s better than last night. Meds are working.”

  He waited. She didn’t offer more. As far as cons went, it wasn’t an elaborate one. How often had her mom been “in the hospital” when she’d been with Sam? “That’s good then. Must be a relief.”

  She nodded and he thought back to when Sam had been in the hospital after his first heart attack. Wes hadn’t found out until after his dad’s double bypass, when his assistant had called to request him to take over some of the daily affairs that Sam couldn’t attend to. Didn’t want to worry you, kid, Sam had roughly growled over the phone.

  Sam hadn’t been concerned about what worried Wes since he was fourteen.

  “So, what do you do again?” She brushed her hair out of her eyes.

  Why’d he think it was cuter than hell when she did that?