“Can you sit?” Her rescuer watched Bella, something deep and assessing in his gaze.
Bella’s stomach roiled at the scrutiny as her mother’s warning came to mind. “You’ll have to be on your toes at all times.”
Right. She needed to focus. This minor incident couldn’t endanger her mission, however conflicted she was about it.
“I think so.”
“Here. Let me help you.” He offered his hand. His white long-sleeved T-shirt pulled against his broad chest.
“Thanks.” Bella slipped her fingers inside his, nearly pulling away at the shock his touch rendered, like the static electricity that always clung to the end of a slide and zapped kids when they least expected it.
After getting her upright, the guy let go of her hand and ran his fingers through his blondish-brown crew cut. “I’m really sorry about this.”
She glanced down at her injuries and nearly cried out. The heel of her left Louboutin pump had snapped off and laid lifeless on the dirty ground, a victim of the aftershock and subsequent fall. Mom had better reimburse that as a business expense.
“It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have been standing so close to the staircase.”
“I was out here cleaning up when I saw you.” A yellow hard hat lay discarded upside down on the other side of him. Mr. Baker must have hired him to clear the debris from the earthquake damage. “Another second or two and that loose railing would have creamed you.”
“Instead, you got the privilege.” Her fingers clenched as the words she’d intended to be a joke released in a stiff tone.
He hesitated. “I was just trying to help.”
“Oh, no. Yeah.” Why were her words getting all jumbled in her delivery? She took a breath and tried again. “I’m grateful. Really.”
“Well . . . I’ll go fetch the first aid kit.” Again the man studied her, almost as if he knew something about her.
I hope not. Shivering, Bella stood, wincing at an ache in her backside. “That’s OK.” She needed to get checked in, hopefully before meeting the inn’s owner. First impressions were everything in Bella’s world, and she was sure they mattered even outside of the big city. “I’ll come with you.” She located her suitcase a few feet away.
His eyes narrowed for a moment. “Are you . . .” He massaged his jaw for a moment then shook his head and headed toward the front of the hotel.
Well, that was strange. She followed him, hobbling on her broken heel.
He snuck a hand into the pockets of his Dickies and emerged with a key that he used to open the door before pushing his way inside. Huh. Maybe he was more than a contractor hired to fix the earthquake damage.
The inside of the inn exuded just as much charm as the outside, and from here Bella wouldn’t have even known of the damage along its northwestern facade. Real wood floors led to a quaint reception desk that welcomed guests into the ten-by-ten foyer. Behind it, a staircase ascended to a second level. If memory served from her brief moments perusing the website, the twenty-room inn had a small lobby at the top of the stairs and rooms on both floors. The deck she’d seen from the courtyard in the back met up with the lobby and provided guests with a gorgeous view of the ocean and beach below.
Speaking of other guests, where were they?
Bella cleared her throat. “I’m guessing all that debris is from the earthquake?”
“Yeah, and things are a mess. Most of the town was spared, but a few of us were hit hard. It could have been worse.” The workman squatted behind the reception desk and started digging, finally emerging with a box of bandages and a tube of what she assumed was antibiotic ointment.
“Here you go.” He shoved the stuff into her hands and leaned back against the desk, chiseled arms folded over his chest. The scent of clean soap lingered in the space between them.
“Thanks.” The edges of the BAND-AID wrappers crinkled in her fingers. She itched to get out of her dusty clothes, but this was a prime opportunity to gather intel. And even though her assignment left a sour taste in her mouth, that’s why she was here after all. “Were there any guests staying at the inn when the earthquake struck?”
Something ticked in the man’s jaw. “Thankfully not.” His arms tightened, emphasizing his biceps even more. “Speaking of guests, I notice you have a suitcase with you, but I don’t have any reservations in my system for today. Can I ask what you were doing in my courtyard?”
His system? His courtyard? Bella blinked. “Are you the owner?”
“Yep. Ben Baker, at your service.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t hold back her grimace. So much for first impressions. “Nice to meet you.”
“And you are?”
She couldn’t miss how steel rimmed his tone. Something about his clear distrust weakened her muscles. But why should she care what he thought? She didn’t know him. And Bella Moody was used to playing ball with much more intimidating businessmen than Ben Baker.
Of course, in this case, playing ball meant using stealth. Getting the inside scoop. Winning him over so she could discover his weaknesses and take what she wanted.
Well, what Mom wanted.
But if Bella succeeded, her mother would finally give Bella what she wanted. The one thing she wanted more than anything. The thing only Mom could give.
Information.
She stepped forward, her legs wobbly—and not just because of her missing heel. Guess she cared what he thought after all.
“Bella M—” Yikes, she’d almost ruined everything with one word. She needed to stick with her plan if things weren’t going to fall apart in the first five minutes. More than they already had, anyway. “Bella Miranda.”
At least she wasn’t lying. Miranda was her middle name.
It was a small consolation.
Stay focused. Remember why you’re really here. Let that guide you.
“And what are you doing in town?”
“I’m here on a personal errand.” She glanced at her suitcase. “And no, I don’t have a reservation, but I was hoping you’d have space for me.”
He lifted off the desk, his arms falling to his sides. “You really want to stay here after nearly being taken out by that railing?”
“Is it safe on the inside?” If not, she’d have to find somewhere else in town to stay, some other way to get to know Ben. The whole plan would go much more smoothly if she could be here.
“The building inspector finally came today and gave me the all-clear to enter. Only half of the inn is damaged. If you stay away from the courtyard and don’t go north of the lobby, you should be OK.” The pinched look on his face relayed his resignation. “But I’d need you to sign a waiver stating that you understand the risks.”
“All right.”
He waited for a beat. “All right as in . . .”
“I’ll stay.”
Was that a kindling of hope smoldering in Ben’s eyes? It was there and gone so quickly that maybe she’d imagined it. “We do, in fact, have a few vacancies right now.” He rounded the desk and snagged the computer mouse. “Do you want one queen or two twins?”
“One queen is fine.”
“And how long do you want to stay?”