Naked Disclosure (2 page)

“T.”

She patted his cheek and sauntered away, leaving him alone in ankle-deep snow contemplating the crumpled pink note.

And the beautiful woman.

“WELL! THAT COULDN’T have gone better!” Aphrodite stood up and extricated herself from the Oregon grapes.

Daphne followed with less grace—given the unwieldiness of her fantastic shoes. “You mean the woman who just rented office space from us and the guy who runs ProCare is a match?”

“It helps that she hasn’t been in town that long and he’s been single since he started that handyman business of his. No relationship juju to poison.” Aphrodite slogged through the snow until she got to the sidewalk. “And with our help, their connection will stay strong and hopefully combat Nemesis’s stupid spell.”

“Did you try talking to her again?”

“There’s no talking to her. She’d rather rot in Tartarus than tell me where the apple is.” Aphrodite marched down the sidewalk. “Let’s get back to the office. And let’s find out where Eros and Psyche are. I’ll need their help to cement things between our lovebirds.”

Chapter 2

“MRS. CONROY, PLEASE reconsider! We value your business.” Adam clutched the receiver and then consciously relaxed his grip. “In fact, we can discount our services—”

“I appreciate that, Adam, I really do. But I’ve already hired Hunny Do to take care of all my needs.” The sixty-six-year-old retired schoolteacher paused. “Unless you’re offering shirt-optional services, too?”

“What?” He tried to feel outrage, but honestly, he was more annoyed he hadn’t thought of the concept. Beautiful Beaux was the worst kept secret in Broken Arrow—and everyone knew how much the female senior citizens liked the all-male strip club. In fact, their weekly Bingo night was held there every Wednesday. “Mrs. Conroy, our men are skilled professionals, not strippers.”

Mrs. Conroy chuckled. “That’s too bad, Adam. I’m betting you and Ian have very nice abs.”

Adam wasn’t sure how to respond. He’d never had to deal with elderly widows wanting to check out his naked chest. He sighed. “If it doesn’t work out with Hunny Do, just give us a call.”

“Of course, Adam. You have a nice day now.”

“You, too, Mrs. Conroy.”

Adam dropped the phone receiver into its cradle. “That’s the fourth customer since Christmas to drop us.” He picked up the pencil and tapped it against the papers littering the check-in counter. The office was located in downtown Broken Arrow in a narrow building largely built as an afterthought. It fit uncomfortably between the formal architecture of the edifices of Thomas A. Harrison, Esquire and Sandra Ruthridge, Realtor.

ProCare’s first office had been a garage, the only employees himself and his brother, Ian. They’d spent the last few years carefully building a solid, profitable business.

Truth be told, his thoughts weren’t on business, but on pleasure. He and his brother Ian always worked a full day on New Year’s. Hell, they worked every holiday because they promised 24-hour care no matter what. And, well, they had no lives. No girlfriends, no wives, and no prospects of either one.

The pink paper given to him by the blonde angel last night was in his front jean pocket. It had become a talisman. Even without an eggnog-clogged mind, he remembered her scent. Her smile. The feel of her curves. Oh man. He really wanted to explore those curves again. Just a few hours more and his hands would be stroking her skin. He swallowed his groan.

“We haven’t gotten a new customer since Hunny Do opened two months ago and they’re kicking our ass. I can’t believe the shallowness of women.” Adam looked out the window and watched cars zip up and down Main Street. “They could care less if the job gets done right.”

Silence met his less-than-believable outrage. He glanced over his shoulder at the desk across the room. His brother, who looked like a grown-up Harry Potter, worked on the computer. He typed fast; the tap-tap of the keys sounded like a machine gun report.

Ian glanced up. “You know we should’ve thought of the half-naked angle first. At least two of our guys work shifts at Beautiful Beaux.”

“The only two willing to admit it.” Adam dropped the pencil on the counter and turned to face his brother. “Beautiful Beaux has an amateur stripper night every month. How many dudes do you think put on the masks and wiggle their junk for extra cash?”

“It’ll be us next,” said Ian. He waved toward the computer screen. “We’re losing business and our profits are down. Hunny Do poses a big threat. It’s not like Broken Arrow is a huge city. We have one of everything in this town. Remember when Harry Johnson’s big shot son came up from Tulsa and opened one of those franchise dry cleaners?”

“Sure. Nan’s dry cleaning service stomped him into the ground. She’s been in the business more than thirty years. Harry’s son had an MBA and a bad attitude—not to mention zero experience with dry cleaning or running a business.”

“That’s kinda my point. Hunny Do isn’t a big chain.” Ian adjusted his glasses. “It’s a small business, like ours. And they’re not only getting new business—they’re taking ours.”

“Maybe it’s just a…phase,” said Adam. “After all, the owner is an outsider.”

“Actually, she’s not. I’ve been doing some checking. Victoria Hunton is the only grandchild of Odemina Wilson.”

A moment of terrified silence passed. Seventy-eight-year-old Odemina was sharp as a tack and mean as a hornet. Broken Arrow elected a mayor every two years, but Odie was its queen. Her family built the small Oregon town 127 years ago and she never let a soul forget it.

“Since Odie blessed the Earth with only one child,” said Adam, “I take it that Victoria is the daughter of She Who Must Not Be Named.”

“According to the gossip at Manzana Café, our Ms. Hunton is the result of Odie’s disinherited daughter and the stripper she ran off with. Worse, Stripper Boy really was an outsider. Lived here a month before he eloped with Odie’s daughter.”

“So what brings the granddaughter here?”

“Helen told me her parents were killed in a car accident a couple years ago, but Miss Odie didn’t know until right before Thanksgiving. Word is, she invited Victoria to live with her in Broken Arrow. That girl’s her only kin now.”

“Must’ve been hard on Miss Odie—finding out her daughter had died.” Adam paused, trying to process his brother’s information. “Wait a minute. You’re hanging out at Manzana Café? Talking to Helen?”

“Don’t start.”

“I hear things, too, you know. Everyone knows that Helen broke up with her boyfriend.”

Ian grimaced. “There’s a lot of that going around. Did you hear the Emersons have filed for divorce?”

“No way.”

“Tria took some magazine job in Las Vegas. Word is, Cal’s gonna sell
The Broken Arrow Times
.”

“Are you kidding? The paper’s been in his family since the town was founded.” Adam sighed. Some days, he thought Broken Arrow was going to hell in a hand basket. “Tria and Cal were the poster children for great marriages. How could they call it quits?”

“Who knows what happens behind closed doors?”

“Yeah. So … speaking of doors. What are you going to do about Helen’s availability?”

Ian shoved back from the desk and ruffled his hair. “She put me in the friend zone in high school. The only door she opens for me is marked ‘shoulder to cry on.’”

“Pussy.”

Laughing, Adam dodged the wadded paper Ian lobbed at his face.

“It’s gotta be illegal for a man disrobe as part of his job.” Ian sighed. “Except for stripper work, I guess. But for handymen services? It’s gotta be discrimination. Sexual harassment. Something.”

Adam let his brother off the hook and went with the subject change. “I bet Ms. Hunton wouldn’t hire Ernie. He’s a great worker, but I don’t think his wife likes to see him with his shirt off.”

“Poor Ernie.” Ian laughed. He aimed his grin at Adam. “I’ve heard Victoria Hunton is gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous, huh?” Adam thought about his mysterious blonde and their Cupid Club rendezvous. He patted the front pocket of his jeans. The paper was her promise. He couldn’t wait to see what tonight brought. “Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way. We need intel on our competition. I should go check out the place.”

“You mean check her out.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, all right? I just want to see what Victoria Hunton is like in her native habitat.”

“Yeah.” Ian’s grin widened. “You keep telling yourself that, bro."

“HUBBA, HUBBA,” EXCLAIMED the pink-haired female as Adam entered the small office. On the far end was a reception counter. Hunny Do was apparently renting an office from a larger retail space that took up half the boardwalk. The building had been abandoned for the last five years or so after some big-box retailer had tried to set up shop and closed its doors six months later. Broken Arrow had its tourists in the summer, but the town ultimately belonged to its less than 2,000 residents.

And they didn’t like outsiders. Or big business.

Whoever had bought the building had used the large space to create a beehive of offices. Most of them held “for rent” signs in the windows … except for Hunny Do.

And that was how he ended up with the pink-haired demon.

Adam blinked as the woman gave him a slow once-over that left him with the impression she was imagining him naked.

He gulped.

“Hi ya, sweet cakes.” She waggled her eyebrows. She wore an amazing shade of gold eyeshadow and her fake lashes were pink glitter. She walked out from behind the tall white Formica counter and Adam stepped back. Good God. She was sheathed in a plastic pink dress that should have by all rights disabled her ability to breathe.

Behind the counter, a door opened. “Daphne, where are the—”

A petite blonde dressed in white jeans and a yellow sweater stopped and looked at him. “Hubba, hubba.”

“Are you referring to me?” he asked. He pointed to his chest, just in case she couldn’t figure out that yes, he was, indeed, referring to himself.

Heated embarrassment crawled up his neck and bloomed in his cheeks.

She lifted an eyebrow. “Where’d you find him, Daph?”

“He found us. Unless Santa Claus forgot to deliver one of my presents.”

What the hell had he gotten himself into? No one had ever referred to him like a—like a thing before. Did other men enjoy this … this ogling? He directed his gaze to her. It was almost as if the blonde knew his thoughts. Wait. She seemed vaguely familiar. Had he met her before? A fuzzy memory flitted, but he couldn’t net the damn thing. Maybe he’d seen her around—at the grocery story or the Café. Hmm. He watched her saunter around the counter. Okay, she seemed to be in charge. At least, he hoped so. He didn’t know if he wanted to deal with the pink demon perusing the front of his jeans a little too avidly.

“Ms. Hunton, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Victoria,” she said, holding out her hand. “Please call me Torie.”

“Torie. I’m Adam Redmont.” He gave her a quick, firm hand shake and let go quickly. “Don’t you worry about sexual harassment suits?”

“Nope,” she answered. “If you can’t take the heat, stay out of the client’s kitchen.”

“You advocate sexual harassment in the work place?”

“In a way,” she agreed. “I need to know our employees can deal with the…um, enthusiastic behavior of some of our clients.” She smiled and revealed a dimple at the left corner of her mouth.

Adam felt zapped in the pit of his stomach. Whoa. He hadn’t counted on being attracted to her. Get a grip, man. His thoughts leapt to where he’d like to grip Victoria—she had really nice…no, no, don’t go there. He took a fortifying breath to calm his racing pulse. If he didn’t figure out a way to put Hunny Do out of business then ProCare was toast—and that meant several good men would be jobless. His workers didn’t have the gleaming muscles or the pretty faces to work for Hunny Do.

The bell above the door jingled and he turned to see who’d arrived. A young man in a wheelchair rolled through, popped a wheelie, and skidded to Victoria. He grinned, a flop of brown hair covering his right eye. “Hey, boss.”

“Charlie, you big show-off. How’d the job for Mrs. Conroy go?”

Mrs. Conroy. Adam eyed the young man who’d swiped one of his long-time customers. He didn’t recognize the kid, but he could’ve been from the local high school. Or from one of the nearby towns. He hired people willing to do the work, and in this economy, some drove thirty minutes or more for even a temporary job.

“The check’s stapled to the completion order.” Charlie withdrew a folded paper from his pocket and handed it to Torie. Then he flashed a twenty-dollar bill. “And she tipped me.”

“Twenty bucks! What did you do?”

“I took her for a ride in my wheelchair.”

Adam’s mouth dropped open, but he quickly snapped it shut. The kid had put Mrs. Conroy onto his lap and given her a spin? He bit back a smile. No wonder the woman had dropped ProCare. She was getting more than just a handyman—she had a handsome man flirting and having fun with her.

“You’re a slut, Charlie.”

“I know.” He winked at Torie. “Got anything new?”

“Sure.” Torie’s gaze slid over to Adam. “Did you come by for an application?”

Adam shook his head. “Just wanted to say hi.” Lame. “I…uh, have to go back to work. Nice to meet you, Daphne. You, too, Charlie.” Adam slipped out of the office and walked to his car. His theories about Hunny Do were way off.

Damn it.

Chapter 3

“HE DIDN’T RECOGNIZE me,” said Victoria Hunton as she and Daphne shut down the office. “We shared a mind-numbing kiss at party. It was magical. Did I tell you I waited for him?”

“You mentioned it.” Daphne grinned. “Once or twice.”

Torie sighed. “Yeah. Then Roger came out and dragged him off to a taxi. Sheesh. Despite all that, I still figured out that my snow prince was Adam Redmont, rival and expert kisser.”

“Give the guy a break. It was dark outside and he was sloshed.”

“
Magical
,” stressed Victoria. “And apparently one-sided.”

“Doubtful. Maybe he didn’t remember a drunken New Year’s kiss, but I saw the way he was looking at you.” Daphne shut off the computer and straightened the files scattered on the desk. “Besides, don’t you have a date with him at the Cupid Club?”