Page 11 of Just for Tonight

He pauses beside the table. “Daphne? It’s Daphne Bradshaw, isn’t it?” If he’s feigning surprise, he could go pro.

My mother would say that butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He’s got a little smile as he makes his appeal and is about a billion times more handsome than I remember. This even though he’s looking a bit rumpled. Maybe he’s more appealing because he’s disheveled. He had a little short beard when we met the first time, but he’s shaved it off now. Tough to decide which look I prefer, actually. He’s wearing a great suit and white shirt, not as fabulous as the tux he was wearing when we first me, but all good. His tie is loosened. He looks tired, like he’s had a long day, but I will not feel sorry for him.

I am ice.

“Yes,” Daphne says, polite and a little playful. She stands up. “You’re not Jake Cavendish, finally come home?”

He nods, his expression rueful. “The old man finally made it happen, although his strategy was a little dire.”

No one is quite sure what to say.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Daphne says and we all nod.

“Well, it happens to all of us.” Jake offers his hand, untroubled. “On a happier note, I understand you and Luke are to be congratulated.”

Daphne flushes and smiles as she takes his hand. “Yes. Thank you. We’re very happy.”

“Good. I wish you both well.”

Cameron clears her throat pointedly, then offers her hand with a bright smile. “Cameron Sinclair. We haven’t met.”

“No, we haven’t.” Jake gives her a perusal that makes her preen, then follows up with a slow appreciative smile. “Jake Cavendish.”

“Yet another of the Cavendish clan?” Cameron asks playfully.

“Mike’s big brother,” Sylvia supplies, appearing beside the table. She’s taking off her apron.

Jake nods agreement, his gaze flicking over the table.

“I take it you don’t live in Empire anymore,” Cameron says.

“No. Toronto. I’ll just be here to sort out my father’s estate.”

“Are you in town for long?” Cameron asks.

“Only a couple of days.”

“Well, I hope you have to come back to get it all settled,” she purrs.

Jake smiles at her, then glances toward me. He appears puzzled, as if he can’t place me.

I’m outraged, but I smile and offer my hand. “Mackenzie Rhodes. We were in high school together but you probably don’t remember me. Mike was in my grade.”

“Don’t tell me you were friends with my little brother.”

“I wasn’t.” I shrug. “Just in the same grade.”

Jake nods and takes my hand, his sure grip closing around my fingers. His hand is warm and strong, reminding me of the feel of his fingers on my skin. I pull my hand away when he doesn’t seem inclined to release it. “Mackenzie Rhodes,” he muses. “I’m sorry but I don’t remember much of high school. I was too busy planning my escape.” Daphne and Cameron laugh lightly. “But you must be related to Augustine Rhodes.”

How dare he not remember? “He’s my grandfather,” I admit.

Jake looks like he’s trying to remember something. “Mike said something about a piece of land between the two properties that’s in dispute.” His gaze flicks to me, so piercingly blue that I almost jump. “Do I have that right?”

“It’s not in dispute. It’s ours but Patrick Cavendish stole it.” That’s more blunt than I would have put it under other circumstances, but I’m badly jangled.

Daphne glances at me, picking up on that.

“Right.” Jake doesn’t seem convinced. “Mike did say that he wanted the matter resolved and soon. Could you give me your phone number? I don’t want to interrupt you tonight, but I’ll have a look for it first thing in the morning. Maybe we can get that sorted before I head back to the city on Friday.”