The Man Behind the Pinstripes Page 5

  “No,” Becca said, but that didn’t soothe him, because she had an I-told-you-so smile plastered on her face. She looked pleased, almost giddy that she’d been proven correct.

  How deeply had she ingrained herself in Grams’s life? He was concerned how well Becca could read his family. He needed to find his grandmother a new consultant, one with a better education, wardrobe and manners. One he trusted.

  Becca’s silly, sheep-eating grin made the Cheshire cat look as if he were frowning. She raised a forkful of cake to her mouth. Each movement seemed exaggerated, almost slow motion as if she knew he was waiting for her to make the next move and she wanted to make him suffer.

  Good luck with that.

  Caleb couldn’t feel any worse than he was feeling. He had to do something to make this up to Grams.

  “You can have another slice after you finish yours,” Grams said.

  “One is enough for today,” he said. “But let me know when you bake another Black Forest cake, and I’ll stop by.”

  A dazzling smile on his grandmother’s face, the kind that could power a city for a day, reaffirmed how lonely she must be in spite of her money and friends. That loneliness made her vulnerable to people who wanted to take advantage of her, people like Becca.

  “I’ll do that,” Grams said.

  He ground the toe of his running shoe against the tile.

  In spite of his thinking he’d been a doting grandson, his phone calls, text messages and brunch on Sunday hadn’t been enough. Grams wanted to spend face-to-face time with her grandchildren, to chat with them and to feed them.

  Caleb’s overbooked calendar flashed in his mind. His arm and shoulder muscles bunched, as if he’d done one too many Burpees at the gym.

  He was so screwed.

  No, that wasn’t right.

  This was his grandmother, not some stranger.

  He’d made a promise, one he intended to honor if it killed him. And it might do that unless Caleb could figure something out. A way to spend more time with Grams. Make more time for her. Find time...

  Becca’s fork scraped against the plate.

  Food.

  That gave him an idea.

  He had to eat. So did Grams.

  Mealtimes would allow him to eat and appease his grandmother’s need to see her grandson at the same time. The question was how often. Brunch was a standing date. Dinner once a week would be a good start.

  “Let’s have dinner next week on Wednesday. Invite Courtney to come,” he suggested. “I’m sure your cook can whip up something tasty for us. You can make dessert.”

  Grams shimmied her narrow shoulders, as if she were a teenager bursting with excitement, not an elderly woman.

  Maybe once a week wouldn’t be enough. His chest tightened.

  “That sounds wonderful,” Grams said. “Do you think Courtney can make it?”

  The anticipation in Grams’s voice made one thing certain. His sister would be at the dinner if he had to buy her a pretty, expensive bauble or a new pair of designer shoes. Grams was worth it. “Yes. She’ll be here.”

  Grams looked as if she might float away like a helium balloon. “Excellent, because I can’t wait for Courtney to meet Becca.”

  Caleb rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the knots. He didn’t want Becca at dinner. The woman had overstayed her welcome as far as he was concerned. This meal was for his family, not employees.

  He flashed her a practiced smile, so practiced people never saw through it. But the way Becca studied him made Caleb wonder if she was the exception to the rule. He tilted his head. “Join us for a glass of wine on Wednesday.”

  Becca brushed her knuckles across her lips. “I don’t want to intrude on your evening.”

  “You aren’t intruding,” Grams said before Caleb could reply. “You’re having dinner with us.”

  “No,” he said at the same time as Becca.

  His gaze locked on hers for an uncomfortable second before he looked away. Only ice remained in his glass, but he picked it up and sipped.

  The woman was...unpredictable. One more thing not to like about her. He was more of a “load the dice ahead of time so he knew what he was going to roll” kind of guy. He didn’t like surprises. He’d bet Becca thrived upon them.

  Grams’s lip curled. “Caleb.”

  Becca studied her cake as if a magic treasure were hidden inside. “It’s okay, Gertie.”

  No, it wasn’t. Caleb deserved his grandmother’s sharp tone. “What I meant is Courtney is a lot to take in if you’re not used to being around her. I have no doubt they’ll name a Category 5 hurricane after her one of these days.”

  “Your sister can be...challenging at times,” Grams said.

  Understatement of the year. Courtney was the definition of drama princess. The rest of the earth’s population was here to make his sister look good or help her out. Nothing he tried stopped her from being so selfish. Not even making her work at Fair Face in order to gain access to her trust fund. “We don’t want Courtney to overwhelm Becca and make her want to hightail it out of here.”

  On second thought getting Becca out of the picture was exactly what he wanted to happen. No way would Grams start a business venture on her own. Caleb might have to rethink this.

  “Becca won’t be overwhelmed. She’s made of stronger stuff than that,” Gertie said.

  “Thanks, but you need this time alone with your grandchildren.” Becca’s eyelids blinked rapidly, like the shutter on a sport photographer’s camera. “I can’t make it anyway. I’m covering a shift for a vet tech at the twenty-four hour animal hospital on Wednesday.”

  “That’s too bad,” he said.

  She toyed with her napkin, her fingers speeding up as if someone had pressed the accelerator. A good thing the napkin was cloth or it would be shredded to bits.

  “It is,” Becca said. “But I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time together.”

  Her saccharine sweet voice sounded relieved not to be a part of the dinner. Maybe she had seen through him. That would be a first. “You’ll be missed.”

  As much as a case of poison oak.

  A dismayed expression crossed Grams’s face, washing over her like a rogue wave. Her shoulders hunched. “You’re working that night, Becca?”

  The tremble in her voice sent Caleb’s pulse accelerating like a rocket’s booster engine. Unease spiraled inside him. He reached for his grandmother’s hand, covering hers with his. Her skin felt surprisingly warm. Her pulse wasn’t racing. Good signs, he hoped. “Grams? You okay?”

  She stared at her hands. “I forgot about Becca working on Wednesday. I do have an assistant who reminds me of things, but...”

  Grams shook her head slowly, as if she were moving through syrup not air.

  Caleb understood her worry. His grandfather had suffered from Alzheimer’s, a horrible disease for the patient as well as the family. Being forgotten by the man who’d held their lives together for so long hadn’t been easy. But even at the worst of times, Grams had dealt with the stress of the disease with raw strength and never-ending grace and by making jokes. He’d never seen his grandmother act like this. Not even when she’d been stuck in bed with an upper respiratory infection over a year ago. “No worries. You’ve had a lot on your mind.”

  “That’s right,” Becca agreed.

  Caleb wondered if she knew something about Grams’s health, but hadn’t told anyone. Except Becca looked genuinely concerned.

  Grams gave his hand a feeble squeeze. “I should be able to remember a detail like Becca’s work schedule.”

  “I never told you about next week’s schedule.” Becca’s voice was soft and nurturing and oh-so-appealing. “I received the call this morning about what shifts I’ll be covering. You haven’t forgotten anything.”


  “I haven’t?” Grams asked.

  Hearing the unfamiliar uncertainty in her voice worried Caleb.

  “Nope,” Becca confirmed.

  Whether his grandmother had forgotten or not, she seemed so much older and fragile. Time to call her doctor. He patted her hand.

  “I’m going to stick around this afternoon.” This would cause havoc with his schedule, but he needed to be here for Grams. He could use the time to figure out what was going on with Becca. “I can finish up my work here, then we’ll have dinner.”

  Grams straightened. All signs of weakness disappeared like a wilted flower that had found new life. Her smile took twenty years from her face. Her eyes twinkled. She pulled her hand from beneath his and rubbed her palms together. “That will be perfectly splendid.”

  Huh? Her transformation stunned him.

  “Maura, the new cook, is making lasagna tonight. She’s using my recipe for the sauce,” Grams said to him. “Becca loves my sauce, don’t you?”

  Amusement gleamed in Becca’s eyes. “I do.”

  Caleb didn’t know what she found so funny. His grandmother’s health was nothing to laugh about. “Sounds great, but let’s phone your doctor first.”

  “Nothing is wrong with me.” Grams waved off his concern, as if he’d asked if she wanted a slice of lemon in her iced tea. “I had a complete physical two months ago. Dr. Latham said I’m healthy, with a memory an elephant would envy.”

  That didn’t explain what had happened with her only moments ago. “A call won’t take long.”

  Grams’s lips formed a perfect O. She leaned toward him. “You’re worried about me.”

  No sense denying the obvious. He nodded.

  She touched the side of his face, her touch soft and loving. “You have always been the sweetest boy.”

  He blew out a frustrated puff of air. “I haven’t been a boy for a while.”

  “Very true, but I remember when you ran around the house naked.” She looked at Becca while heat rose in his cheeks. “He never wanted to wear clothes unless it was a superhero costume or camouflage.”

  Forget the doctor. Might as well call the coroner. For him. Cause of death—embarrassment. “I was what? Three?”

  “Three, four and five. It seems like yesterday,” Grams said with a touch of nostalgia. She stood. “Please don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

  Caleb wasn’t sure about that. He rose.

  She motioned him to sit. “Eat the rest of your cake. I’m going to tell Mrs. Harrison you’re staying for dinner.”

  “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  Becca gave him the thumbs-down sign.

  Caleb would have to be blind to misinterpret that signal. He sat. “Or I can finish my cake.”

  “Do that. Then use the study to work.” The words were barely out of Grams’s mouth before she bounced her way toward the house.

  The French doors slammed shut.

  Caleb leaned over the table toward Becca. He might not like her. He sure as hell didn’t trust her, but she was the only one he could ask. “What is going on with my grandmother?”

  Becca understood Caleb’s concern. She’d been worried, too, until she realized Gertie was faking her memory loss. Becca glanced at the house, biting back a smile. “I imagine your grandmother’s in a mad rush to get to the pantry for the ingredients for a Black Forest cake.”

  Caleb’s eyes darkened to an emerald-green. Make that the color of steamed broccoli. His mouth pinched at the corners. “What?”

  “You know how you talked about your grandmother using ploys to get her way?”

  His gaze narrowed. “Yes.”

  “Gertie played both of us by pretending to be a forgetful granny.”

  “She wouldn’t.”

  “She did.” It was all Becca could do not to bust out in a belly laugh. “You’d better work on your poker face or prepare for more of her antics, since it worked so well.”

  “Huh?”

  “You not only stayed for cake, but you’re having dinner here.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Grams played me like a well-tuned Stradivarius, didn’t she?”

  “Perhaps not that well-tuned.”

  “Touché.”

  “Your grandmother is the smartest woman I know.”

  “You seem pretty sharp yourself.”

  Warmth emanated from Becca’s stomach. She hoped the heat didn’t spread all the way to her face. No one except Gertie had ever called Becca sharp. “Thanks, but what she was doing wasn’t hard to figure out.”

  “What tipped you off?” he asked.

  He leaned back in his chair, looking more relaxed and comfortable. Different. More approachable. The workout clothes looked mouthwateringly good on him.

  “Becca?”

  Oops. She’d been staring. Her cheeks warmed. A pale pink, she hoped. “I hadn’t told Gertie about my work schedule. But when she looked at your hand on hers and didn’t look away, I knew something was up.”

  “I thought it was strange, but Grams knows how to push my buttons when she wants. She had me worried about her health.”

  “Desperation can drive a person to do things they normally wouldn’t.”

  He tossed Becca one of those you’ve-got-to-be-kidding looks. “My grandmother is not desperate.”

  “I’d be desperate if someone I loved kept blowing me off.”

  “You don’t have to keep rubbing it in. I’m going to spend more time with her.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Becca had expected Caleb to be angry, not repentant. This softer side of him surprised her, given his obvious suspicions about her. Appealed to her, too. “You have no idea how lucky you are. Gertie is amazing. Don’t take her for granted.”

  “You really seem to care about Grams.”

  Becca nodded. “I wish she was my grandmother.”

  “Do you have family close by?” he asked.

  “Southern Idaho. I don’t see them much.” Becca didn’t like the conversation turning toward her. She stood. “I have to go.”

  Caleb scooted back in his chair. “Where are you going?”

  “To get your suit.”

  “Before you go.” He stood. “One question.”

  “What?”

  “Are Grams’s dog products that good?”

  “Will you believe what I say?”

  “I asked your opinion.”

  He hadn’t answered her question. Maybe he had a better poker face than she thought. “The products are so excellent, they’ll sell themselves.”

  “You sound certain. Confident.”

  “I am,” she said. “The line is going to make a fortune, but it’s better that Fair Face isn’t manufacturing the products.”

  His jaw tensed. “I thought that’s what you and Grams wanted.”

  “It was, but not now.”

  “Trying to get rid of me?”

  “Sort of.”

  His eyes darkened. “Why is that?”

  “If Fair Face doesn’t believe in the products, they won’t be willing to put all their resources behind them,” she said. “Fair Face will do enough, just enough, to appease Gertie. The line might not fail, but it won’t succeed as well as it could with the right backing and support.”

  “For a dog consultant, you know a lot about business.”

  Becca hated that his words meant as much as they did. They shouldn’t. “Not really. It’s common sense.”

  “Not having Fair Face involved means more money for you.”

  She hadn’t thought about that. “More money would be great.”

  “I’m sure it would be.”

  As if Caleb could understand what money would mean to her. He’d never gone hungry because there was
n’t enough money for groceries. He’d never worn thrift-shop clothes and duct-taped shoes. He’d never left prison with nothing except a backpack and an appointment with a probation officer.

  “Thinking about how you’re going to spend all that money?” he asked.

  “Thinking about our next step,” she said. “I’ll give you my number. Text me the names and numbers of possible advisors.”

  “No need.”

  Her heart dropped. “What do you mean?”

  “I know the perfect person to help you and Grams.”

  She fisted her hands in anticipation. “Who?”

  “Me.”

  No. No. No. Every nerve ending shrieked. “You said you didn’t have time.”

  “That was before you made me realize I’ve been neglecting my grandmother and should spend more time her.”

  Oh, no. Becca had brought this upon herself. “You should be doing something fun with Gertie, not working with her.”

  “You said she liked to work.”

  “She does. But...” Becca swallowed. “You don’t want to ignore Fair Face.”

  “I’ll work it out. This way I’ll be able to help you, too.” He sounded so confident, as if nothing could stop him. “I can answer any questions you have, make sure things stay on track, maybe provide angel funding. That should make you happy.”

  The lopsided smile on Caleb’s face told Becca he expected her to be anything but happy about this. Goal achieved, because she was very unhappy at the moment. “I—”

  “Trust me.”

  She would never trust a man with so much money and power. She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I hate to put you out like this. It really isn’t necessary.”

  “No worries. Honest.” The charming smile spreading across his face made her breath hitch. “Besides, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for my grandmother.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Caleb left his office and rode in a limousine to his grandmother’s estate. He hoped the element of surprise would work in his favor today. Unlike yesterday when he’d been caught off-guard by most everything.

  Spending time with Grams and being her advisor were the perfect ruses for Caleb dropping by unannounced. He could keep on eye on Becca until he figured out what she was up to.