erratic and traditional school wasn’t in her frame of reference. “That’s good information.”
“I’ve noticed that housekeepers here at the lodge work in teams.”
“It’s efficient.”
He nodded. “I know what you said about personnel turnover and the cost of training. Obviously you feel it’s important to retain those two. So it might be a good idea to split them up.”
“It crossed my mind, but I’ve been working in—what did you call it? Triage? Dealing with the most important things first. Operating in crisis mode.”
The longer Cam stood looking up at him, the more she noticed how handsome he was. How easy he was to talk to. How good he smelled. How safe he made her feel.
That was something she hadn’t felt since losing her big brother when he was only nineteen. Since then men had come on to her, using her to get their name in the paper. Famous by association. But there was something trustworthy about Ben.
He folded his arms over his chest. “You should be used to crisis mode.”
His voice was pleasant and teasing, but her stomach dropped at the words. It had been too much to hope for. “Why?”
“Your tabloid history is pretty colorful.”
“So you know about that.”
“I Googled you.”
“That’s a lot of information to wade through.” Disappointment sat like a stone in her gut.
“Not so much after you went to jail.”
It was hard, but she managed not to wince. She would never be able to erase her infamous past and the lies that were part of it. She knew the truth and could set the record straight, but she couldn’t make him believe it.
“Being in a cell, even segregated from the general population, was more scary than I can tell you. I was grateful for early release and determined not to go back. Ever. I returned to college.”
“Coincidentally, that was about the time all the stories dried up.”
“Photographers still stalked me, waiting for a screwup to document and sell papers. But I was more determined to get an education and have a career. Accomplish something. Do more than be famous for being famous.”
“Good for you.”
Right. The words sounded supportive, but she knew better. Everyone wanted something.
“I really have to get to work,” she said.
“Me, too.” He straightened and looked down at her. “I’d like to see you later.”
“That’s not a good idea.” the door to her suite was right next to his and she headed for it now. Over her shoulder she said, “Have a wonderful day.”
In her room she leaned against the closed door and dragged in air. Since college the nice guys had shunned her. Classes, studying and getting exemplary grades were all she had. The loneliness and isolation hurt deeply, but she’d learned valuable lessons. She needed a solid, successful career because that would be all she had, all she could count on.
It was time to focus on that career. Making Blackwater Lake Lodge into a lucrative property in the family hotel chain was her ticket out of this town. It would get her away from the handsome, sexy doctor who was nothing more than another nice guy who wouldn’t want to bring her home to meet his family.
Chapter Three
Ben McKnight had never pictured himself as a Chamber of Commerce sort of guy, but here he was at the monthly Blackwater Lake meeting. He’d been interested in hearing Mayor Loretta Goodson’s plans for growing the community, expanding Mercy Medical Clinic and eventually building a hospital here in town. Being in on that project from the beginning was one of the reasons he’d come back. Blending the best and newest medicine with a small-town, hands-on approach was exciting and rewarding.
Apparently he wasn’t the only one interested in longterm planning. It was a standing-room-only crowd in the council chamber here at City Hall.
“I think we’ve thoroughly covered all the information about the architect hired to draw up the plans for the Mercy Medical Clinic expansion. The town council and I liked the work she showed us, but she also has the lowest fee. McKnight Construction will be doing the building. Is there any further business or questions?” The mayor, an attractive woman who looked thirty but was probably ten years older, glanced around the room. Her shoulder-length, layered brown hair caught the overhead light as she turned her head. She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her gray eyes. “All right, seeing no raised hands, that concludes the meeting. There are refreshments in the back. Thank you for coming, everyone.”
Almost instantly chair legs scraped and talking commenced as people stood and filed out of the room or to the table filled with coffee and dessert.
Ben had been at the clinic late setting a patient’s broken arm and barely made it to the meeting. With no time to eat, he was starving. After grabbing a couple cookies and a brownie, he looked around. Against the wall he noticed Cabot Dixon, an old high school friend, talking to the pretty redhead who owned the marina store on the lake and was engaged to Adam Stone, the family-practice doctor at the clinic. He moved toward them and Cabot grinned.
“I heard you were back in town, Ben.”
“Good to see you, Cab.” He set his coffee on the seat of a chair and shook the other man’s hand.
“Do you know Jill Beck?”
“I do. How’s that little guy of yours?” Ben had met them at the clinic when they visited Adam at work.
“C.J. is great.” Her blue eyes glowed with pride and pleasure. “Adam is keeping an eye on him tonight. Tyler’s there, too.”
“How old is that boy of yours, Cab?”
“Seven. Can’t believe it. I remember when he was hardly bigger than my hand and I was trying to figure out which end to put the diaper on and which one to feed.”
“You’ve done a great job,” Jill said, “because he’s healthy and happy.”
“It was one day at a time, one crisis at a time.” He shook his head at the memories. “Seems like yesterday he was a toddler.”
“I look forward to seeing him. Preferably not at the clinic.”
“From your mouth to God’s ear,” the man said fervently.
Ben knew Cabot had been married and his wife took off right after the baby’s birth. Apparently, in addition to a husband and newborn son, small-town life wasn’t her thing. And speaking of that…In his peripheral vision he noticed a flash of red. Camille Halliday was a few feet away from the refreshment table, by herself and holding a cup of coffee. She stood out like a fly in milk.
The people in this room were dressed in denim and flannel. Mayor Goodson had on a navy blue blazer with her jeans to negotiate the line between casual and professional. There was an occasional pair of khakis, and Ben was in scrubs, but that was as formal as anyone got.
Cam was wearing a stylishly short, snug skirt and fitted red jacket with a ruffle at the waist. Her four-inch red come-and-get-me heels made her legs look longer than he thought they were and shapely enough to make his fingers tingle to know for sure.
Jill must have noticed where he was looking. “Camille Halliday is prettier in person that she is in photographs.”
“I’ll have to take your word.” Ben forced himself to look away. He took a chocolate chip cookie from his plate and bit into it. After chewing and swallowing he said, “I’ve never seen pictures of her.”
“Really?” The redhead looked surprised. “She’s been all over magazines and tabloid news.”
“I’ve been busy.”