Operation Prince Charming (5 page)

“It’s no problem. My Crock-Pot and bread-making machine did all the work.” The woman looped her arm through hers, and Ali willed her body to relax.

As deep as the wound her husband’s cheating had made, in some ways the betrayal of her best friend hurt more. Not to mention the friends who’d abandoned her once the tabloids printed those lies.

The episode had not only made her wary of other people’s intentions, but it made her question her own instincts as well.

Oblivious of her hesitation, Sandy pulled her in the direction of the house. “It’s good to see Hunter out with someone new, but you didn’t
have to get all dressed up,” she said in a low voice meant only for Ali’s ears.

“But we’re not—”

“Pete,” Sandy yelled for her husband, cutting Ali off. “We’ve got company.”

Hunter saw the sidelong glance Sandy exchanged with her husband and knew he had to set them straight.

He should have made it clear there was nothing romantic going on between him and Ali the moment they’d arrived, but the smell of real food had hit him as soon as he’d walked through the door and they’d all been too busy stuffing their faces to talk.

Also, the couple’s boisterous boys had kept them entertained throughout the meal with meandering stories and jokes with forgotten punch lines.

“Then Nate squirted juice through his nose,” one of the boys said, sending his brothers into guffaws of laughter.

Sandy smiled at their antics and shook her head, before turning her attention to him and Ali. “So, how long have you two been seeing each other?” she asked.

Her question caught him with his mouthful of dessert.

“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” Ali said.

“Ali’s new in town,” Hunter explained. “I was bragging on your cooking. When I found out she’d been existing on frozen dinners, I took the liberty of bringing her along.”

“So, how’d you two meet?” Sandy asked.

“He’s my student,” Ali said before he could answer.

A puzzled look creased Sandy’s brow. “Student?” She looked across the dining room table at him. “Pete never mentioned you were taking a class. What are you studying?”

“Aw, man,” Pete groaned.

“Just a little self-improvement course,” Hunter said hurriedly in an attempt to save his friend’s bacon.

“Yeah, no big deal,” Pete added, jamming a huge forkful of cake into his mouth.

Sandy arched one eyebrow and leaned forward. “So, Ali, what do you teach?”

Ali gave Hunter a questioning glance, before turning to their hostess. “Etiquette. Hunter’s one of my new students,” she said.

Instantly, Sandy yanked her elbows off the table and smoothed the paper napkin on her lap. “Boys, stop licking your fingers and use your napkins,” she hissed at her sons, who continued to happily scoop up the creamy
white icing with their fingers and stick them in their mouths. “And sit up straight,” she added to no avail.

Sandy turned her attention to her husband. “You see what kind of example you’re setting for the boys?”

“For goodness’ sake, Sandy. We’re at home, not having tea with the queen.”

“That’s no excuse for bad manners, right, Ali?”

Ali smiled. “Your boys are delightful,” she said diplomatically. “Dining with them has been a pleasure.”

Hunter was impressed at how his instructor sidestepped the question, as if she hadn’t heard the burp contest the boys had started but their mother had put a stop to before they could declare a winner. Still, Sandy was shrewd, and he didn’t expect her to buy it for a second.

But to his surprise, she brightened at the compliment.

“So, Hunter, what made you take an etiquette class?” Sandy asked. “And don’t give me any of that self-improvement nonsense.”

“It was Erica’s idea.” It was the first time her name had come up since he’d arrived. Moreover, it was the first time he’d thought about her all evening.

Guilt prickled at him although he hadn’t done anything wrong. He and Ali had a professional relationship. They weren’t even friends. Not really.
He glanced at his instructor, who was sipping the coffee Sandy and Pete had brought out to accompany the cake.

Sandy frowned, her expression filled more with pity than disapproval. “So, is Erica still trying to kick down locked doors with her checkbook?”

“She’ll come around,” Hunter said, feeling like a politician repeating the same tired sound bite. Judging from the expression on his friends’ faces, it had about the same effect as political verbiage.

He was surprised when Ali interjected, “I’ve only had a brief glimpse of Erica, but I think having you on her side makes her a very lucky woman.”

Ali’s words rang sincere, but her voice held a bittersweet note as she continued. “Loyalty is a very important quality in a partner.”

Touched by the heartfelt support of a woman he hardly knew, Hunter thanked her with a barely perceptible incline of his head. Again, he wondered what kind of a man was responsible for the sadness lurking in the depths of her soft brown eyes.

Had it been the ex-husband she’d clammed up about after mentioning on the ride over?

Hunter felt a hand cover his. It was Sandy’s.

“I don’t mean to come off so harsh. It’s just that we worry about you.” She glanced over at her husband, who cleared his throat.

“So, Ali, what do you do when you aren’t teaching folks not to eat with their feet?” Pete asked.

“I can eat with my feet. Wanna see?” one of the boys piped up.

Both Hunter and Ali laughed at the long-suffering look Sandy shot her husband, and he looked over at his sons. “Don’t even think about it, fellas.”

The boys’ disappointment didn’t stop them from holding out their plates for seconds on the delicious but rapidly disappearing cake.

“Actually, the school itself has kept me pretty busy. It’s an old building and it’s fallen into disrepair over the years,” she said.

“Ali’s been doing a lot of the repairs herself,” Hunter interjected, feeling a flicker of pride.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” Pete said. “What kind of repairs?”

“Just simple fixes so far. For example, this week I finished replacing all the ripped screens and broken windowpanes, and the other day I installed a motion-detector light. I’ve been reading about the rash of home burglaries in the paper, so I thought the light would be a good idea.”

“Well, if you run out of things to do over there, I could use a hand around here. Between my crazy work schedule and keeping up with the boys, we’ve got a list a mile long of things that need doing around here I haven’t had a chance
to get to,” Pete said. “And it costs so much to have someone come in and do the work.”

Ali held up her hands, and Hunter noticed her nails were polished a pearly pink. “I’ve got more than I can handle right now?”

Stifling a yawn, Hunter checked his watch. “It’s getting late, and Pete and I have another long day ahead of us tomorrow,” he said.

“Thank you both for a lovely evening,” Ali said, rising from her chair.

“We enjoyed having you, Ali,” Sandy said. “Boys, come say good night.”

As the children practically attached themselves to him, Hunter felt a twinge of envy for Pete’s life. He was a lucky man to have this kind of love.

An unexpected surge of longing hit, catching him off guard. He’d hoped he and Erica might find the same joy and fulfillment in raising a family.

“You’ll be at my Little League game, right?” the oldest boy asked.

Hunter dropped his index finger on the boy’s nose. “Of course I will.”

“Are you going to bring your girlfriend?” the kid giggled, and pointed to Ali.

Hunter and Ali exchanged awkward glances, before he watched her turn away. “She’s not my girlfriend, buddy. We’re just friends.”

“She nice,” the middle boy said.

“And pretty,” the youngest one of the brood chimed in.

Hunter’s gaze flitted back to Ali, taking in her smooth caramel skin and glossy pink lips. He couldn’t help noticing the kids had a point. She was nice.

However, they were wrong about her being merely pretty. Ali Spencer was beautiful.

The realization lingered in the back of his mind as he drove her back to the restaurant to pick up her car. And again he reminded himself he had absolutely nothing to feel guilty over. He was simply a man who noticed an attractive woman.

He switched the radio on. Not that Ali was the least bit interested in him anyway.

“I hope the home-cooked meal made up for the mess I made of our lesson,” he said.

Jazz covers of hip-hop tunes played softly in the background as he steered the car through the quiet residential neighborhood toward the main artery that fed into the interstate.

“It was great,” she said. “I know it’s rude to go for seconds after showing up at dinner uninvited, but I couldn’t help myself. Hopefully, I didn’t embarrass you too badly.”

“Honey, my face was buried too deeply in my own plate to notice.”

She laughed and he took a moment to enjoy the melodious sound. The wall she’d erected around herself had slipped a few times tonight,
and he’d caught her smiling at Pete and Sandy’s banter or giggling at one of the boy’s knock-knock jokes. To her credit, she didn’t check anyone on table manners violations, and he was sure there were plenty of them. Instead she’d blended in seamlessly with him and his friends as if she dined with them every night.

He sneaked a peek of her in his peripheral vision. The hem of her dress had ridden up several inches, giving him a decadent eyeful of shapely thighs he knew led down to a pair of exceptionally appealing legs.

The car swerved, and he forced his attention back to the road. He gripped the steering wheel tighter as if it would help him get a hold of his wayward thoughts.

“Thank you for bringing me along tonight,” she said. “It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed a meal with other people…” Her voice trailed off.

“Glad you enjoyed yourself.”

He glanced toward the passenger seat and saw her staring out of the window.

“Your friends really care about you,” she said.

Sadness tinged her tone, making him wish there was something he could say or do to make it go away.

“I’m sure your friends back in Florida miss you too,” he offered.

“They weren’t my friends.”

They rode the remaining minutes to the restaurant in silence.

“It’s the red Honda,” she said as he pulled into the parking lot.

The lot was more crowded than when they’d left with European luxury sedans taking up nearly every space. Hunter slid into the first open spot he could find.

“Wait,” he said, when he saw her go for the door handle.

Rounding the car, he held open the passenger-side door. “I may not know the difference between water and sherry glasses, but I’ve always known how to treat a woman.”

Ali jerked to her feet too fast and stumbled. Instinctively, Hunter reached out to steady her, and their eyes met. Heat sizzled where his hands touched the soft skin of her bare arms.

He inhaled the citrusy scent of her perfume as his gaze dropped down to her glossy pink lips.

Hunter knew he should take his hands off her. Instead he drew her closer. The streetlights illuminated her face in the darkness, and her eyes locked with his.

Hunter couldn’t remember ever wanting to kiss a woman as much as he wanted to kiss this one.

A car horn blasted and Ali jerked back, breaking the spell she’d somehow weaved around him.

He opened his mouth to apologize to give her some kind of explanation for his behavior, but he didn’t have one.

“Good night, Hunter.” Ali practically ran to her car.

He simply stood there, his mouth agape, watching the taillights of her car fade into the distance. One thought echoed through his mind.

What in the hell just happened?

Ali muffled a yawn with her fist. Some professional you are, she thought, still disgusted at her behavior last night.

She’d thought arriving at the school early would get Hunter off her mind and make her focus on the busy day ahead.

However, visions of him and their near kiss continued to plague her as they had done to her restless dreams. Ali hugged herself, her fingers tracing the same spots his large hands had touched the night before.

“Oh, just stop it,” she scolded. “You were all over the man. If you’d gotten any closer he would have had to zap you with a Taser.”

Ali stalked over to her file cabinet, yanked open a middle drawer, and retrieved a stack of two-pocket folders. Plunking them down on her desk, she began stuffing the pockets with student material for the training program she was giving at a customer service phone bank this morning.

None of this would have happened if she hadn’t left the restaurant with him, but at the time it had seemed so harmless. It had really been about the food.

Ali stuffed the last folder and pulled a sheet of labels embossed with the school’s name in gold script from her desk drawer. She began affixing the labels to the front of the folders.

Unfortunately, the mindless task allowed her mind to drift, and it drifted right back to Hunter. For a moment she let herself savor the memory of his lips so dangerously close to hers and entertain the questions it brought to mind.

What if she hadn’t pulled away? Would he have kissed her? And if he had, would it have been a whisper-soft brush of his full lips against hers or would his mouth have been firm and demanding?

Ali sighed as she stuffed the folders into her tote. She’d never learn the answers to those questions, because hooking up with Hunter or any other man was not on her agenda. Besides, his heart belonged to another woman.

She also could never pursue a man who was committed to someone else or respect one who cheated.

Shouldering her purse, she grabbed her tote and headed out the door. It was time for her to get her head where it belonged, on work.

Two hours later, Ali knew exactly why the customer service call center for Happy Home
Handymen needed her help. She stood behind a podium in front of a conference room table occupied by twenty disinterested customer service reps.

Her client had already indicated that the lackluster crew in front of her had been the best they’d been able to pull from their pool of applicants.

So Ali pasted a smile on her face and continued with the training program.

“People are already good and pissed off when they call here,” a thirty-something woman with fuchsia hair and a pierced tongue said. “I don’t care what you say about being respectful and addressing them as Mr. and Miss. It won’t make a difference.”

An older woman seated next to her nodded. “They’re so busy complaining about having to wait two weeks for someone to look at their busted water heater or the repair guy botching the job, we can’t get a word in.”

“They’re out for blood and ready to chew out the first person they get on the phone,” a woman who looked to be the youngest said between loud cracks of her chewing gum. She’d been texting on her cell phone the entire time, so Ali was surprised she’d heard a word. “It’s not my”—
snap
—“fault if they got fired”—
pop
—“are getting a divorce”—
snap
—“or whatever else they have going on in their life.”

The nonstop gum popping set Ali’s nerves
on edge, but she was determined to get through this presentation and, hopefully, get through to Happy Home’s phone reps.

“Let’s try something a little different.” Ali walked from behind the podium. She picked up a phone from a back table and unplugged it, then asked the workers’ supervisor for another one.

She set one of the phones down in front of the champion gum popper and glanced at her name badge.

She then held a sheet of paper under the young woman’s mouth. “Jasmine, gum,” she said simply, giving her a no-nonsense look.

Jasmine deposited the gum on the paper, which Ali balled up and threw in the trash.

“Okay, Jasmine, we’re going to do a little role playing. I want you to pretend to be one of the more difficult customers you encounter,” Ali said. “And I’ll play the customer service representative.”

Jasmine dived right into her role, blasting Ali with a long tirade. “Your guy stomps all over my carpeting with his dirty work boots, and now I’ve got to get someone else in to clean my damn carpet. So neither me nor my home are feeling very happy right now. Not to mention you showed up two hours after the supposed four-hour window you gave me. So, thanks to you people, I’m sitting here with grimy footprints on my white carpet, and I wasted a vacation day.”

“First, allow me to apologize for your inconvenience,” Ali said. She turned to the class. “Notice how I let the customer get it all out and not interrupt. It’s important to hear them out.”

Ali nodded for Jasmine to continue.

“Damn right it was inconvenient. We’re talking about my hard-earned money here. I work hard,” Jasmine said.

“I understand completely, Ms. Smith. Now let’s talk about how we can resolve this matter.” Again, Ali turned to the other reps. “Now that you’ve allowed them to vent, it’s time to move them away from the problem and toward working out a solution.”

“Solutions? We aren’t going to pay them for the day or pay for their carpet,” Jasmine said.

Ali turned to their supervisor. “If the complaint is legitimate, could you perhaps offer to send someone else out to clean the carpet for free and offer them another service at a deep discount?”

When the man hesitated, Ali reminded him how much it could cost him in bad word of mouth.

The supervisor nodded. “I guess we could do that.”

She focused her attention back to the telephone reps. “Don’t argue, stay calm, and stick to the facts,” Ali said. “If the customer becomes profane or verbally abusive, they aren’t going to allow you to help them anyway. Simply pass them along to a supervisor.”

Jasmine sucked her teeth. “I just hang up on them.”

“How angry would you be if the cell phone you’ve been texting all morning on was shut off, despite you paying your bill on time?” Ali asked.

“I’d be pretty mad.”

“What would you want, a rep who listened and tried to make things right or one who threw the same angry words back in your face or hung up on you?”

“Well, if you put it that way…” Jasmine’s voice trailed off.

“Thanks for your help, Jasmine,” Ali said, then turned her attention to the group. “I know rudeness is rampant these days, but don’t underestimate the power of good manners. It’s all about dealing effectively with other people. Learn how and you’ll be the one getting the raises and promotions on this or any other job.”

The reps offered a weak applause at the end of her training presentation, but Ali wasn’t sure if it was because she’d helped them or they were simply relieved it was over.

Still, deep down Ali couldn’t help wondering if rudeness was too rampant or if maybe she was in the wrong business.

Hunter stood in front of the coffeemaker, mug in hand, waiting for the office sludge to finish brewing.

If he was going to clear his head of last night’s
near miss with Ali, he needed something strong, black, and bitter. Even after adding an extra mile to his morning run, she lingered on the edges of his mind.

Filling his mug to the rim, he took a gulp of the toxic brew as if it were his punishment for coming so close to kissing another woman.

What had come over him last night anyway? He and Erica had their problems, but they were still in an exclusive relationship and committed to weathering this storm.

He didn’t know where the overwhelming urge to kiss Ali had come from, but he rationalized it was a onetime thing.

He wouldn’t let it happen again.

“Good afternoon, Prince Charming. Whatcha thinking about so hard?”

Hunter looked up to see his supervising sergeant with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Not you too,” he groaned. “I’m going to kill Pete.”

“Actually, Bishop mentioned how dapper you looked when you left last night. That charm school your girl has you in must be working, huh?” His boss chuckled as he filled his mug with coffee. “But do me a favor and don’t mention it if you happen to run into my wife. I don’t want to wind up being your new classmate.”

A wisecrack about grown men being scared of their wives popped into his head, but he didn’t need charm school to know pissing off his sergeant was a bad idea.

“So, did any of those leads on our burglars pan out?”

Hunter shook his head. “They’ve all been dead ends so far.”

Just then, Pete approached them. He nodded at their boss before turning to Hunter. “We’ve got two more break-ins reported. On the same block, similar m.o. to ours,” he said.

“Let’s go,” Hunter said. He was eager to see if interviewing the latest victims would turn up a good lead, or even better, if their suspect had finally slipped up and made a mistake they could use to their advantage.

Moments later, Hunter navigated the department-issued Malibu down Murfreesboro Road, while Pete adjusted the air-conditioning vents. “If spring is this hot, we’re in for one miserable summer.” Pete swiped at the perspiration dotting his forehead with his forearm.

“Yeah, I’m bracing myself for next month’s electric bill,” Hunter said. “I could have bought season tickets on the Titans’ fifty-yard line for what it cost me to keep my town house cool last year.”

Pete eased back on the passenger side. “Your place is just a few years old. Just wait until it gets a couple of decades on it like mine,” he said. “Every time I turn around, something is on the fritz. Makes me wish Sandy was handy with a toolbox like your new squeeze.”

Hunter’s head swiveled toward Pete. “I told
you last night, Ali and I barely know each other,” he said. “I’m still with Erica.”

Hunter’s words belied the images of Ali and that tempting mouth of hers playing through his mind. He felt as though if he inhaled he’d be able to smell the fresh, sweet scent of her citrusy perfume.

“Well, it didn’t look like that to me last night.”

Hunter slowed down as the yellow traffic signal changed to red. “She’s my teacher, Pete. We’re not even friends. Not really.”

“I was there. I saw you, man.”

For a split second, Hunter thought Pete had actually seen Ali in his arms. Not that it mattered. Nothing had happened between them, he reminded himself.

“I saw the way you were staring at her all through dessert,” he said, and Hunter sagged in relief. “She was eating her cake, but you looked like you wanted to eat—”

“You’re out of your mind.” Hunter cut him off.

“I think you protest a bit much,” Pete said. “And you looked relaxed for a change, like you were actually having a good time. When is the last time you had fun with Erica?”

Hunter successfully changed the subject by asking Pete about his oldest son’s first season of Little League and the other boys’ upcoming T-ball games. He knew once his friend started
talking about his kids, he’d forget all about offering opinions on his love life.

However, Hunter hadn’t forgotten Pete’s last question. When was the last time he and Erica had fun? He didn’t know what he didn’t like more, the question or his unspoken answer to it.

“Make a left.” Pete pointed out a tulip-flanked brick monument sign at the entrance of the Magnolia Cove subdivision.

Magnolia Cove, like the other communities their suspect favored, was brand-new. He estimated about half of the homes in the subdivision were occupied, with the rest in various stages of construction. Some of the roads hadn’t even been paved yet.

Hunter braked to let workers behind the wheels of a slow-moving bulldozer and an excavator past him on the narrow gravel road. They followed the winding road until Pete spotted the street.

Pete pointed to a yellow two-story Cape Cod. “This is it.”

They knocked on the front door and a thin, blonde woman peered at them through a sidelight window. Like anyone whose home had been violated, she looked visibly shaken. Hunter pulled his shield and identification from his pocket and held it up to the window for her to check.

A few moments later he heard the barrel bolt
slide, and she eased the door open. Hunter noted the splintered wood hanging onto the now useless dead bolt and glanced at Pete. The hollow-core doors and weak door frames the builder had used on these houses were no match for a crowbar.

“I’m Detective Coleman and this is Detective Jameson. We’d like to talk to you about what happened here, ma’am,” Hunter said.

The woman stepped back to let them in. He looked down to see a toddler clinging to her leg. “Go play with your blocks while Mommy talks to the nice policemen,” she said, then turned her attention to them.

“I was hoping you were the locksmith. They’re coming out to fix the door and locks this morning. I’m also expecting the installer from the alarm company,” she said.

“Good,” Pete said.

“You also might want to consider a steel or solid wood door,” Hunter suggested.

They asked her a few basic questions as she walked them through pristine living and dining rooms, filled with what appeared to be new furniture, toward the back of the house. “Like I told the officers who were here earlier, nothing was touched except our bedroom,” she said.

Once they got to the bedroom, Hunter heard the woman’s muffled sob. The room had been ransacked. Tossed clothing hung from open
drawers and was strewn across the floor. Whatever could be broken was, including lamps, mirrors, and photo frames.

Hunter swallowed the lump of anger rising to his throat. He was mad as hell at whoever did this, but furious they hadn’t been able to apprehend them yet.

He heard the sound of toddler footsteps coming their way, but Pete managed to stop the little girl before she entered the room filled with shattered glass.

“Whoa.” Pete picked the girl up and handed her off to her mother.

“It’s like they had radar,” the blonde said. “They took all of my jewelry: two pearl necklaces, a diamond choker, and my great-grandmother’s wedding band. They got the new leather briefcase I’d bought my husband for his birthday next week. It was hidden in my closet. I hadn’t even had a chance to wrap it yet. Oh, also the gold Rolex and a fleur-de-lis lapel pin left to my husband by his father were also stolen. We’ve only been in here a few weeks. There was just so much to do, I didn’t get a chance to go by the bank and put it in our safe-deposit box…” Her voice trailed off.