“Danica,” he said, his voice firm. “You have to get yourself out of this mess. I’m not going to do this any longer. It’s time you learned how to handle life.”
This sounded bad. She shifted her weight, staring out the glass patio door. Maybe she could tug on his heartstrings. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whispered, knowing that always got him to soften up.
“No. You can’t worm your way out of this. I’ve made up my mind. You’re cut off.”
What did he mean, cut off? Like, from everything? Her panic heightened, and she couldn’t breathe again. “What?”
“You’re on your own. I’m canceling your credit cards. No more using my private jet. I’m done enabling you.”
Was he insane? Her skin tingled and she grew dizzy. He was taking everything away from her. She was stranded. “How will I get home?” Her voice sounded small to her own ears, like she was a cartoon character.
“You’re going to have to get a job.”
Breathe. She needed air. But no matter how much she tried to force it, no air would come into her lungs. She couldn’t even think straight. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Daddy, I—”
“I’m sorry. I have to go. I hope you know I’m doing this for your own good. I love you. Good-bye.” Her father hung up, and she stood there, listening to a dead phone.
Dani gasped as her world crumbled around her. No credit cards? No jet? And now she was stranded in a foreign country? How could her father do this to her?
Could this day get any worse?
Gripping the wrench, Austin eased himself down the step, feeling like a grandpa even though he was only twenty-seven. The weather was gorgeous, as it always was in the Cayman Islands in May. The stone path that led to the other side of the resort took him by the swimming pool and hot tub, and past the beautiful garden area.
A twinge shot through his knee, and he slowed. It was stupid, really. He was one of the highest-paid football players in the NFL. He really should be able to handle a couple of stairs. But during practice he’d zigged when he should have zagged and ended up on the wrong side of 300 pounds of muscle. He’d torn his meniscus. Badly.
Kay, the owner of the resort, came around the corner. Her red hair was pulled back into a bun, even though some strands wouldn’t be tamed and stuck out at crazy angles. She looked at him and tsked. “Austin, what are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting. Recovering. Why are you on this side of the resort?”
“303 has a small leak in the pipe under the sink. Mrs. Fleming was going to file a formal complaint, but I told her I’d fix it. It just needs a tiny bit of tightening, that’s all.” He gave Kay what he hoped was an innocent smile.
“Stop that. You go back to your lounge chair. You just had surgery, for heaven’s sake.” She reached for the wrench, but Austin whisked it behind his back.
“Not just. Two weeks ago. I’m going stir crazy, ma’am. I need something to do, or I’m going to die of boredom. You don’t want my death on your conscience, do you?”
Kay frowned at him. “You really know how to fix it?”
“Yes.”
“And it will only take a second?”
“Yes.”
“All right, fine. But I’m paying you for it. And then you’re going back to relaxing and recovering. The last thing I need is to have the famous Austin Scott reinjure his knee on my resort, making it my fault that he can’t return to play for the Los Angeles Demons.” Kay made a face, and Austin laughed.
“All right. I promise to go back to pretending to be a lump on a log after I get Mrs. Fleming’s faucet all fixed up.”
“You’d better.” She frowned. “You know, most people would love a nice, relaxing, three-week vacation.”
“Would they like that relaxing vacation alone, with a bum knee so they couldn’t go anywhere or do anything?”
Kay slowly nodded. “Yeah, all right. I get it. Go fix the faucet. You can return the wrench to me at the front desk.” She lowered her voice. “But don’t tell anyone I made Austin Scott fix my sink. I’d be mortified.”
He chuckled. “My lips are sealed.” He headed down the path, feeling like a pirate with a peg leg.
A woman emerged from one of the rooms. She had on enormous sunglasses and a large, floppy hat. It was almost comical. She obviously didn’t want anyone to recognize her. Probably some famous socialite trying to get a break from publicity. He understood the feeling.
She glanced behind her, then hurried down the path toward Austin, holding her hat in place. As she walked, she kept looking behind her. He wondered who she was trying to avoid. Unfortunately, as she neared, he could tell she hadn’t seen him. And one more glance behind her was all it took for her to run smack into his chest.
The woman bounced off him, fell backward, and landed on her behind. Her hat flew off and caught a gust of wind. “Oh!” she called out as her hat flew high into the air.
“I’m sorry,” Austin said, reaching up and snatching the hat back. “I hope you didn’t get hurt.”
The woman looked up at him, and even with her sunglasses on, he could tell she’d been crying. He could see the dried tear tracks down her cheeks. She took the hat from him but didn’t stand. He bent to offer help. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and took his hand, letting him hoist her up. “Yeah,” she said, brushing herself off. “Sorry. I didn’t see you.”
“That’s okay.” He was curious why she’d been upset, but didn’t want to be creepy or stalkerish by saying, “Hey, I noticed you were crying. Is everything okay in your life?” So instead, he just held up the wrench. “I’m on my way to 303 to fix a faucet.”
He cringed. She didn’t care about that. Why was he rambling?
The woman pointed behind her. “It’s that way.” She hesitated. “Are you new here?”
New here? He wasn’t sure what she was asking. He’d been there for two weeks. And this wasn’t his first visit to the resort. “No.”
She took off the sunglasses, and he immediately recognized her. Danica Jordan. And socialite was an understatement. She was always in the news for her wild behavior and massive money-spending habits. He stepped back, surprised to see her in such a state. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and she had no makeup on. What in the world had happened to her?
She bit her lower lip. “Who would I talk to about getting a job here? I’m kind of desperate.”
He couldn’t have been more shocked if she had said, “Please hold my hat, I need to take off my head and see if I have any brains left.”
His mouth opened and closed a few times. “Kay, the owner,” he finally managed to say.
Danica nodded, her large eyes blinking back moisture. “Okay. Thank you. I’m so glad I ran into a maintenance worker. You’ve been very helpful.”
Maintenance worker? Austin almost laughed. This woman wasn’t into football, apparently. He almost corrected her, but Danica had already slid her sunglasses back into place and replaced her large, floppy hat. “Thanks,” she said as she rushed past him.
Austin watched as one of the richest women in the world hurried off to beg for a job. It was the most bizarre thing. What could have happened to Danica Jordan to make her desperate to get a job?