Only a fling, p.1
Only a Fling, page 1
Only a Fling
Kasper Ridge, Book 1
Delancey Stewart
For my Dad
Chapter One
Succeeding at Failure (Harder than it Looks)
WILL
“Do me a favor and put your phone away,” Dad said the second I strode into his office.
I shoved my phone, which had been in my hand, into the pocket of my pants, simultaneously pushing down the irritation that rose inside me at the command.
Dad never changed—and it wasn’t that he was angry or domineering, he wasn’t. He just expected people to behave a certain way, and he’d had enough experience with me to get out ahead of any disappointments I might offer him.
“I need all your attention on this rebuild on the Esplanade, Will.”
For a second, hope awoke inside me, crawling from the bed where it had decided to take an indefinite slumber a long time ago.
“Yeah? I can do that.” I stood taller. I’d been waiting for the opportunity to take the reins, for the moment when I’d proven myself sufficiently to my father to oversee one of the massive luxury construction projects his firm was known for. The Esplanade project was going to be huge, and I’d been second on so many projects now, it felt like maybe it was finally my turn to lead.
“Good, Markie will need your help.”
“Markie?” I felt my shoulders slide back down. Of course. Markie.
I was not a Markie fan. Markie was a tough woman, good at what she did, but with a couple bags of Fritos perched high on her massive shoulders. It was pretty clear she’d had to work hard to get ahead in the male-dominated world of construction, and at this point, she assumed every guy she worked with expected her to be incompetent. She made up for it by turning herself into the kind of foreman people were afraid to piss off. Me included.
And she had a dog everyone hated but no one had the guts to tell her was a disaster. He was a pitbull/daschund mix named Buzz, every bit as ornery and bullying as Markie.
“Yep. She’s running the show. Best we’ve got, son. And this project is critical.”
I tried to absorb that blow without letting it show on my face. And I sucked in a deep breath, girding myself for what I knew was coming out of me next. Because really, what the hell did I have to lose? “Dad? When will you trust me enough to run a project?”
Shit, I was thirty-one. The United States Navy had trusted me enough to put me in charge of a seventy-million dollar jet. But my dad wouldn’t trust me to run a construction project with plenty of help. Maybe my Navy career hadn’t been as glorious as his, but I’d done it, dammit. I’d flown, I’d fought, and then I’d decided it was time to move on.
Only I hadn’t moved far. Dad had offered me a job at his firm, and I’d accepted. Because I’d actually hoped it might be a big enough place to grow, to finally show him I was a capable adult.
To maybe even make him proud. Of course, as soon as I’d gotten here, I’d screwed up. And it was clear Dad was never going to let me forget it.
“Not this one, son. This one is critical, and Markie’s got it handled. Just be there to run defense for her, carry some of the weight when she needs you, and help manage the schedule.” Dad’s attention was already back on the screen in front of him. That was my cue to go.
Frustration bubbled inside me. “Dad.”
He looked up again, his eyes widening slightly, like he was surprised to see me still standing there. “Will?”
“Do you think you’ll ever trust me again?”
His lips tightened and I saw a muscle jump in his cheek. His steely eyes held mine for a beat, and then they softened. “Yeah,” he said. “I hope so.”
Hope.
He hoped he could trust me.
Someday.
I left his office and returned to my own, using every bit of restraint I had to keep from slamming the door. As I swiveled to gaze out the plate glass window, I let my mind wander back over every stupid thing I’d ever done, every act that had solidified my father’s belief that I’d never be as good as him, never be ready to take on the weight of his trust.
It was a long and exhausting stroll down memory lane. But beyond all the silly shit I’d done in the Navy, the one thing I knew Dad couldn’t forgive was directly related to my work here. I’d trusted someone to do what they said they would. I hadn’t been a good enough leader to demand it—or to doublecheck it. And a man had almost died as a result. Since then, I’d been the most competent manager Dad had, the most engaged, the most organized. But it still wasn’t good enough. It would never be good enough.
My phone buzzed in my pocket where I’d shoved it earlier, and though my dark mood suggested I ignore it, the name on the screen piqued my curiosity. I hadn’t talked to Ghost in a while, but word was going around that he’d taken on some crazy project up in the mountains in Colorado. A hotel or something.
I didn’t know if running a hotel was what the guy needed, but I knew he needed something. After everything that had happened…
“Ghost,” I said, hitting the speaker button and sliding my phone onto my desk.
“Fake Tom,” he said, his voice warm and cheerful. It felt good to have someone address me by my callsign again. Even if I’d hated the name at first. A wash of nostalgia flooded me on hearing it on his lips. I missed it. And him. I missed all my squadron buddies. “How’s it going, man?” he asked.
“Living the dream.”
“I bet,” he said. “Still working with your old man building those luxury condos on the beach?”
“Pretty much sums it up,” I said.
He paused. “Don’t sound too excited.”
I wasn’t going to get into it. Especially not if Ghost had just called to shoot the shit. All of us seemed to have agreed to look out for Ghost a little bit, and the last thing he needed was to hear about my petty gripes with my dad. He had bigger things to worry about.
“I heard you bought some hotel or something in the mountains,” I said.
He let out a laugh. “Not exactly. My great-uncle left me the place. Me and my sister.”
Ghost’s sister Aubrey was a spitfire. She’d come to visit us a few times in Lemoore, and the girl was tougher than some of the drill sergeants I’d met.
“So you’re living the resort life now? Rubbing elbows with the apres ski set, I guess?”
“That’s the plan, but we’re not there yet. Which is part of why I’m calling you.”
“Aw, Ghost, you didn’t just call to say hello because you missed me?”
“You know I do,” he laughed. “And that is actually exactly why I’m calling you.”
“I’m touched.”
“In fact, I miss you so much I have an idea for you.”
“Hold me. I’m frightened.”
“Probably should be. Want to come up here and run the renovation on this place? I’ve got proposals from some top-notch crews, but I need a project manager who knows construction and can keep the whole thing on schedule. Run the show. Herd the cats.” Ghost’s tone was light but I sensed an undertone that hinted he might be in trouble.
I dropped into my chair, my mind whirling. “I do have a way with puss—ahem, with cats,” I joked, mostly to buy a little time to think. I knew next to nothing about the project Ghost was proposing. But I had heard him say I’d be in charge. “Tell me more.”
He paused, and I sensed the bad news was coming next. “Well, I couldn’t pay you much,” he said, and my hopes fell. I needed an actual job. I didn’t have a ton of expenses, but I did have some bills. “But I could give you free housing and a percentage.”
“A percentage of…?”
“Of the Kasper Ridge Resort property.”
“You’re talking ownership?” Maybe Ghost was a little desperate if he was willing to pay me in equity. Still, I found myself considering it.
“I mean, I should let you know the place is in the red right now.”
Of course it was. “So let me get this straight.” I looked out the window at the deep indigo expanse of the Pacific stretching to the horizon and tried to imagine exchanging it for rugged mountains, pine trees. “You’re offering me a low-paying job, a share of a failing business, and a shitty room in a run-down resort?”
Ghost chuckled. “I figured it was a long shot.”
“I’ll do it.” The words were out before my brain caught up. But that was pretty much how every bad idea I’d ever acted on had come to life. Why quit now? One more way to disappoint Dad.
“Seriously?” Ghost sounded surprised, like he’d figured this was a long shot at best.
“Yeah, I’ll do it. I’m sick of playing second fiddle to burly chicks in combat boots with bad breath and no sense of humor.”
“That’s weirdly specific.”
“Send me the details.”
“You got it,” Ghost said. “And Fake Tom? Thanks, man.”
I hung up, my insides churning with something that was either excitement or dread. I had no clue what I’d just agreed to, besides having to tolerate people calling me Fake Tom again, but even that held a certain appeal.
Maybe this was the chance I’d been waiting for. I wasn’t going to let it pass me by. And when it was over? Maybe Dad would finally see me as something other than a disappointment.
Chapter 2
Don’t Mess with a Woman in a Hard Hat
LUCY
The grinding sound of machinery grated through the cool mountain air, sending a shiver up my spine. There were piles of dirt all around, my crew moved here and there, and Mateo was m aking quick work of the dig with the backhoe, meaning soon we’d be on to the more exciting parts of the build.
I lived for this chaos. There was something satisfying about the noise and the mess around me. We were driving the earth to meet our will—or the will of the ridiculously wealthy family paying us to build them a mountain home, but whatever—creating organized destruction, all in the name of accomplishment.
Just as I allowed myself a smile, the grating, sifting noise of the backhoe digging changed, replaced by a stomach-lurching, bone-shaking thump I knew too well. I heard it twice more, but kept my head down, leaning over the plans I had spread on my worktable.
The backhoe shut off and I turned to see Mateo striding toward me across the site, a grim look on his face.
“Boss. Hit rock.”
I swallowed the aggravation I felt. “Bound to happen up here. We do this just about every time, right?” I shot him a confident smile.
“Thought we were gonna get lucky this time. I was more than halfway done.” Mateo took off his hard hat, the crinkles around his light green eyes appearing as he returned my smile with a more doubtful one of his own. He had to peer down at me because he was at least six feet tall and I wasn’t anywhere close. Somehow, though, Mateo never made me feel small. I’d known him forever, and I trusted him like a brother.
“I don’t put much stock in luck. Things that come too easy aren’t usually worth having, in my experience.”
My friend squinted at me, the low western sun highlighting the smears of gritty dirt on his tanned face. “Now you sound like the old man.”
He was right, and my heart warmed as I thought about it. “I guess he was bound to wear off on me some time.” I gazed around at the weary men surrounding me, waiting for next steps. This was only part of the crew I’d have up here once the excavation work was done. We just needed to get the site plumbed and poured before the fun part would begin, but digging in the mountains was never without adventure, and encountering rock down beneath the soil was to be expected.
“Let’s call it for today. We’ll get to ripping that rock early tomorrow and hopefully can get these lines plumbed starting in the afternoon. Depending on how much rock is down there.”
Mateo wiped a hand across the back of his neck and pulled the hard hat from his head. “You sure, boss? Another hour of daylight here.”
“It’s Friday night. Go have fun, guys. But not too much. I need you tomorrow at six.”
“Right,” Mateo said, shaking his head. I knew his night wasn’t likely to be too exciting. He was a single dad, raising a little girl on his own. “We might have time to watch Frozen again.”
“I love that movie,” I told him, earning a grin before Mateo turned and headed to his truck.
The crew slowly made their way to the vehicles parked here and there around the site. When everyone was gone, I double-checked to make sure all our equipment was secure, and then hopped into my truck. I had plans of my own tonight.
“Girl, how do you look like that when you spend all day covered in dirt and sawdust?” Bennie pulled me into a hug as I approached the little round high-top table where my girlfriends already sat with pints before them.
“Like what?” I asked innocently, batting my eyelashes.
“Shut up, you know exactly what she means,” CeeCee scolded, pulling me in for a hug next.
“I like getting dressed up,” I told them, smoothing the skirt of my red dress and adjusting a curl over my shoulder. “It’s like exploring the two sides of my identity. Hard-assed construction boss and actual girly girl.”
“Well, you do both pretty well. How’s Papa?” Bennie pushed a glass and the pitcher my way, and I poured a beer after settling onto a stool.
“He’s doing fine. He’s busy playing poker tonight with the other old timers. I just hope he takes it easy on them this time. I don’t know what I’ll do if I have to listen to him complain for another month that none of his friends will speak to him.”
“He’s a card shark, huh?” Bennie laughed.
“He’s just tricky, I guess.” Papa was smart. Shrewd, maybe, was a better word. But my grandfather was also the kindest person I’d ever known, and even though I liked to complain about him to those who knew his quirks almost as well as I did, I wouldn’t trade a single thing about him. Not the way he complained about my terrible cooking, or the way he stuck his nose deep into every project my construction business took on. He was a know it all maybe, but he’d earned the right—and he’d taught me literally everything I knew.
I sat back in my chair and let the tension run from my fingertips and toes, soaking in the laughter and warmth of my friends, and the people around us in the Toothy Moose, one of two local bars in Kasper Ridge. It was this place or Bud’s, and you didn’t go to Bud’s unless you were under twenty-one and desperate to test out your fake ID, or hoping to run into someone you hadn’t known since birth, since it was halfway down the mountain. The Moose was home base for most of the locals up here, and hanging out in the cozy mountain bar felt a lot like relaxing at home.
“You guys seen what’s going on up at the old hotel?” CeeCee asked, her big brown eyes shining with some kind of unspilled gossip.
I sat up straighter. I knew something, but I wondered what these ladies knew. I’d been talking with Papa about it just this morning, and about the proposal I had put in at the request of the mysterious new owners.
“Did it finally collapse?” Bennie asked. It was a fair question. Kasper Ridge Resort had once been a pretty fancy ski resort, the kind of place just big enough to attract celebrities, but small enough to give them the freedom to enjoy themselves without crowds of tourists. But that was decades ago, and the guy who owned the place hadn’t done a lot to keep it up in his later years. The roof that protected the receiving drive out front had collapsed a few years back, and my crew had gone in to pull the debris out of the driveway. Just in case anyone ever needed to get to the front doors again. The place was a hazard, really.
“I might have heard some things,” I said. “What do you know?” Besides the request for proposals the owners had put out to construction firms as far afield as Denver, my knowledge was limited to permits filed and equipment requisitioned, and some of my guys had told me they’d helped out constructing some kind of temporary lodging structures behind the place at the start of the summer.
“That old guy that owned the place died and left it to some family of his, I guess,” CeeCee said.
I frowned. The RFP had come from an LLC, so I didn’t have a lot of insight into who was actually funding the job. “What kind of family?” Up here, property left to family sometimes didn’t turn out well. Folks who hadn’t spent years living in the mountains didn’t really understand what it was to exist up here. They didn’t get the culture, the harsh conditions that cropped up regularly in terms of weather, or the unspoken rules about privacy and community that mountain people just seemed to know. The last thing we needed was some slick banker type thinking he could turn the place into the next Aspen or Beaver Creek. Even though having a tourist destination up here would help keep some money coming into the local businesses, we didn’t need that kind of reputation.
“A brother and sister,” CeeCee said. “They’re Kaspers. Mabel at the market said they came in to buy some things and told her about what they’re up to.” CeeCee was glowing. She was a good person—one of the best, and I’d known her since preschool, but CeeCee loved to gossip.
“Anyway,” she went on, leaning forward as she got into her story. “Get this. I guess there’s some kind of map or something. The old man was crazy, right? And he put together like, a treasure hunt or something, for his niece and nephew to figure out. That’s why they’re here.”
“They came up here to nowhere ridge to go on a treasure hunt?” Bennie looked skeptical. “What’s the treasure? A bunch of rocks?”
“The old guy—Marvin, I think?—he was rich, right? He ran the place when it was a fancy resort in the eighties. Famous people popping in all the time? My dad says he went there once when he was a kid and there were pictures everywhere of the guy with celebrities.”
