Diamonds and Deceit

By Carol Rose

Irish expatriate Flynn Fitzpatrick lives a colorful life skirting the law while straight-arrow Ellie Holt sometimes can't resist her urge to level crooked pictures. However, when a slightly-crooked Flynn lands on his feet out of no-where pretending to be her boss's nonexistent son, Ellie has to deal with him.

The worst of it is that Ellie needs a "Thomas Cullen, III." But she hates needing Flynn almost as much as she hates the lies that fall so easily from his mouth. And most of all, Ellie fears that she's finding herself needing Flynn on a whole other level.

Irish expatriate Flynn Fitzpatrick lives a colorful life skirting the law while straight-arrow Ellie Holt sometimes can't resist her urge to level crooked pictures. However, when a slightly-crooked Flynn lands on his feet out of no-where pretending to be her boss's nonexistent son, Ellie has to deal with him.

The worst of it is that Ellie needs a "Thomas Cullen, III." But she hates needing Flynn almost as much as she hates the lies that fall so easily from his mouth. And most of all, Ellie fears that she's finding herself needing Flynn on a whole other level.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carol Rose
• Release date: Jul 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781301152742

Carol Rose

Carol Rose is an award-winning author of contemporary romances. She has written twenty-five books, including Always and Forgotten Father. Her books have won numerous awards, including a final in the prestigious Romance Writers of America Golden Heart Award. Carol is an active member of the North Texas Romance Writers. A frequent speaker at writers’ groups and conferences, she has taught workshops on characterization and, creating and resolving conflict. She works full time as a therapist. Her husband and she married when she was only nineteen and he was barely twenty-one, proving that early marriage can make it, but only if you’re really lucky and persistent. They went through college and grad school together. She not only loves him still, all these years later, she still likes him—which she says is sometimes harder. They have two funny, intelligent and highly accomplished daughters. Carol loves writing and hopes you enjoy reading her work.  www.carolrosebooks.com www.twitter.com -  carolrose@carolrosebooks https://www.facebook.com/carol.rose.author  

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

This might have been worth it if he'd actually gotten to sleep with the woman. Maybe.

Flynn Fitzpatrick shifted his foot on the toilet seat over slightly, his hands braced against the inside of the bathroom stall where he hid. On the other side of the thin metal partition, the two women stood talking—blissfully unaware of his presence. They discussed their business dilemma in front of the row of restroom sinks.

"You really think we should find someone to impersonate Junior's son? There is no Thomas Cullen, III!" the older woman on the other side of the stall door growled in her gravelly voice.

What other option do we have? The younger one with dark hair put her hand on her hip, lifting her chin in a determined manner.

Hunkered down over the porcelain facilities, Flynn heard a belligerent voice yelling on the other side of the women's rest room door, screaming his name, threatening to beat the shit out of him before kicking his ass.

Note to self: ask future secretaries/dates if they have insanely-jealous homicidal, ex-con boyfriends.

I know we have to come up with something, but can we really pull it off? the older woman asked, deaf to the screaming in the hall outside. I mean Davenport's at the table right now waiting for us. What are we going to tell him?

I don't know, Margaret, but we have to try something! the younger woman said with energy as the angry voice was raised again outside the women's bathroom door. If we don't come up with a 'business owner', we can't get lease space in Davenport's new shopping center. It’s the most lucrative place to be—high end businesses and high-income customers. The neighborhood is great. We have to get into that center...even if we have someone impersonate Junior’s make-believe son. Since Davenport insists on meeting and dealing with the owner, this is the best plan.

Damn Junior Cullen and his disappearing habits.

Yeah, the younger woman agreed, adding in a convinced tone, But inventing an adult son of Junior's just might satisfy Davenport. It's the best chance we have. If we don't move the store to a better location soon, we'll be out of business.

Where is he! Where's that Fitzpatrick bastard? The bellowed words echoed even louder as if the insane headcase who was after Flynn were immediately on the other side of the door panel.

Flynn grimaced to himself as Rita's ex-con boyfriend's words reached his ears, only slightly muffled by the restroom door.

Really, they’d only gone out a few times. This was over the top.

What the heck is all that commotion? Margaret wondered as several other voices could be heard in response to Rock, the man who wanted to kill Flynn.

I don't know, the younger woman responded, for the first time distracted from her own dilemma. Sounds like some idiot has a beef against a guy named Fitzpatrick.

The voices outside grew more faint, as if they were retreating. Flynn could only hope the restaurant staff was escorting Rock out of the establishment. With any luck, the police would be called and they’d find a reason for taking Rock into custody. There were always reasons with Rock.

Never mind that, Ellie, the older woman said again. "Do you think we can really get someone to act the part of Junior's son? Who? We're going to go out there now and promise to introduce this whoever to Davenport?"

Yes, the younger one—Ellie—said with decision. I don’t see that we have any choice.

Flynn tilted his head to get a better look at her through the slender crack between the stall and the door. Dark, straight hair skimmed down to her chin and he could just see the side of her face. With her jaw set firm, she looked determined for a woman of her twenty-something years. Clearly, she was the leader of the two.

"Damn Junior for pulling his disappearing act now, Ellie said with exasperation. I thought for sure he'd be back by the time we needed to meet with Davenport."

Disappearing is Junior's specialty, Margaret stated grimly. He's been doing it for years. He's got you to manage the store he inherited from Daddy. Why should he start acting like a responsible adult at the age of fifty? He never has before. And again I ask—who do we get to impersonate this fictional Thomas Cullen, III?

If it weren't for his age, we could have Henry do it. Henry would enjoy it.

Margaret snorted. We can't have a son who's the same age as Junior. Henry is many things—he’s a genius at jewelry design—but he can't help here, and Brian's too much of a wussy baby to do it. Typical bookkeeper.

That's not fair, Ellie said. To bookkeepers or to Brian. He's probably our best bet. I know he's....

A scaredy cat? Margaret supplied.

I'm sure he'll be glad to do it, once we explain everything to him, Ellie said. He wants to keep his job, too. Jobs aren't just lying around.

Davenport's crazy to keep insisting on meeting Junior, Margaret stated. "You’re the reason the store hasn't gone belly-up these last five years. You practically live at that jewelry store. All that bling makes you happy."

Well, I haven't been able to stop us from hemorrhaging money at our currant location. Come on, let’s get back to Davenport, Ellie said, pushing her brunette hair back from her face as she picked her purse up from the bathroom counter. We’ve got to get on with this fairy tale.

This is a pretty gutsy plan from someone who generally makes honesty her policy, Margaret said, as she followed the woman named Ellie to the door.

Ellie chuckled. It's not a plan, it's an act of desperation. But you've got to admit there's something beautiful about getting someone to impersonate a person who doesn't exist. Not a tremendous amount of risk. Besides I've got to keep the store alive. Seven people are out of a job if I don't.

Her voice trailed away as she left the bathroom.

Flynn could see Margaret shake her head, following Ellie out the door.

I'd probably be at the front of the unemployment line, at my age. Her words grew fainter as the door closed.

#

So sorry, Ellie said with a smile to the gray-haired man at the table as they seated themselves again minutes later.

Not a problem, ladies. Davenport, a bulky man in his early fifties regarded them with a tolerant gaze as he chewed. This is really excellent roast beef. I must remember this place.

Yes, they have good entrees, Ellie said with a smile, lifting her favorite string of white pearls off her collar bone. About the retail space at the Pine Valley shopping center? I'm convinced that Cullen and Son Jewelers is exactly the kind of store you need. Pine Valley will bring a much-needed high-end retail location to the east side. The demographics of the area cry out for a jewelry store that will appeal to customers' discrimination and respond to their needs for individual attention. With the estate pieces we carry and our capacity to create one-of-a-kind items, we've got what you need.

She paused, hoping her sales pitch swayed him.

I am looking for just that kind of store, Ms. Myers, John Davenport agreed. We all know that the economics of that area of town can support a venture like Pine Valley, even in this economy. I've built three other successful malls in various parts of the south. I'm convinced, however, the major part of the success of my projects is that I hand-pick the individual businesses...in a large part because of the owners of these ventures.

I was wondering, Ellie said, jumping feet-first into the only gamble that might pull this off, would a meeting with Thomas Cullen, III, make you more comfortable with leasing to us? His father, Thomas, Jr., is the current store owner, but the younger Thomas has been working with his father and will one day inherit the store.

Oh, Davenport looked up from his plate. Cullen has a son?

Yes, Ellie made herself add a warm smile to her lie. He's still learning the business, of course, but we think he's going to be like his grandfather, the man who founded the store. Very forward-thinking in business. Junior's son has been working in the store, familiarizing himself with all aspects of the business, to prepare himself for his father's retirement. I would have asked him to join us today, but he already had another appointment.

Even while she tried to sell the idea to Davenport, in the back of her mind, Ellie rifled through all the men she could draft into the scheme. Poor Brian wasn't the best fit for this kind of venture. A certain amount of flair was called for, along with the ability to inspire confidence while being a total fake. Not that it was that much of a deception. If her plan could save Junior's store and the jobs of its employees, it would be a good gamble. She'd make sure it paid off for everyone involved.

She mentally shuffled through her male relatives and even the men she’d gone out with in the last six months. She had to find someone who could be convincing.

She was going to strangle Junior when he showed back up. Experience told Ellie that Thomas, Jr., would walk into the store in a week or two with a sheepish smile on his fifty year-old face and expect everything to be hunky-dory.

I know Pine Valley is approaching full occupancy, she said, sending the developer an encouraging smile. "I also know the space we're wanting will very likely be gone by the time Mr. Cullen, Jr., is available to meet with you. Now, if his son would do...."

Well, I suppose that might work. Carl Davenport continued chewing while he nodded. Time is of the essence. There are other jewelry retailers who've expressed interest.

"I am sorry...er, Tripp couldn't get free to be here, Ellie said again, perhaps we can set up a meeting later this week?"

#

Intent on making his escape, Flynn left his perch in the ladies restroom stall. Leaving the forbidden zone quickly—hesitation was fatal in a situation like this—he walked out into the hall that ran towards the dining area.

Getting the hell out of here was Priority One. Hopefully, Rita's beefy ex-boyfriend had come and gone. As interesting as he'd found his few minutes in the ladies’ room, he had little desire to linger.

Just then, Flynn heard Rock's grating voice lifted in anger at the front of the restaurant.

That Fitzpatrick bastard is here, goddammit! No! I'm not leaving. You can call the goddamned cops!

Veering his steps away from the front door, Flynn's decision was made. New plan required. With a quick scan of the dining area, he noted two things simultaneously—his former dining companions had left and the dark-haired woman and her co-worker were at a table straight-ahead.

He'd found their conversation in the loo to be interesting, informative and full of possibilities. In fact, she may have shown him how to come out of the situation with his hide intact.

What the hell? He thought, turning his steps toward the table where Ellie and Margaret sat with their male companion.

She needed a Thomas Cullen, III and Flynn needed to be anyone who wasn't going to die in the next half hour.

He moved toward the table, smiling.

Good afternoon, he said, pausing next to the man who swiveled around to face him. I'm sorry to be late.

Reaching out his hand, he said, It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Davenport. I'm Thomas Cullen, the third. I hope you don't mind that I rearranged my schedule to be able to join you, after all.

On the far side of the table, the woman named Ellie, looked at him with shocked eyes, her mouth dropping open.

From Flynn's vantage point with his back to the front of the restaurant, he saw the older woman’s jaw drop as well, the one who was called Margaret.

Well, well! Mr. Davenport rose ponderously to his feet to shake Flynn's hand. This is a pleasure.

Oh, the pleasure is all mine, Flynn responded, ignoring the loud voice still emanating from the front of the restaurant.

It was fortunate that Davenport had turned around from the table to look at him, Flynn thought. That way he couldn’t see the women’s startled faces.

Please, resume your seat. I don't mean to interrupt your lunch. I know busy businessmen don't often have the time to enjoy a meal in the middle of the day.

Thank you, Carl Davenport said, sitting. That's true. Not enough hours in the day. Please join us, Mr. Cullen. We were just talking about your business.

Please, let’s don’t be so formal. Call me Thomas, Flynn invited with the familiar feeling of walking a tight rope.

From the sparks flying out of Ellie's eyes, Flynn was surprised she didn't leap up and proclaim him an impostor at that moment. To his relief, she said nothing, even shooting out a hand to quiet her secretary-assistant whose mouth had opened and closed several times.

Flynn pulled out a chair from the table and joined the small group. The shouting from the front of the restaurant had paused, but he knew better than to think he could leave immediately. Even if Rita's ex had been ejected from the restaurant, he'd very likely sit outside for awhile and watch for Flynn.

No, Flynn was safe right where he was and he thought it best to play out the role he'd assumed. Of course, he'd have to talk fast, but that was nothing new.

When Ellie and Margaret, Flynn sent the ladies a respectful smile and received a tight, narrowed-gaze look in return from Ellie, when they told me you wanted to meet the owner of the store, I was sure you'd insist on meeting my father. But they hoped that a meeting me might help your decision about leasing the shopping center space to us.

Yes, yes, Davenport said with a big smile. I understand your father's unwell, Tripp?

Hmmmm. Tripp?

"Not so much unwell, Flynn extemporized, making guesses from the unguarded conversation he'd heard between the two women, as 'under the weather.' Nothing too serious. But the flu, you know, can be hard on individuals of a certain age. This was a particularly tough case. His physician doesn’t think it’s lethal, but advises extreme care to avoid complications."

Flynn smiled at Davenport, exuding honest trustworthiness for all he was worth. It was important to sell a lie really well, he’d learned.

If Ellie and Margaret wanted this developer person to extend a lease to their store, it wouldn't do to make the store owner out to be on death's door.

Absolutely. Davenport picked up his fork and took a bite before saying, So, you work with your father?

Flynn offered a boyish self-deprecating smile. I'd say I'm more in-training. Wouldn't you agree, Ellie? My father has been grooming me to handle the public part of the business—the PR opportunities, you might say. Ellie here is really the nuts-and-bolts person.

Davenport glanced over at the store manager, as Flynn had intended. Cutting her out entirely would only increase the likelihood of her standing up and denouncing him, although Flynn knew that possibility grew smaller the longer she waited. After all, she'd have some 'splaining to do—as Ricky Ricardo would have said to Lucy—for not having immediately denounced him as an impostor.

Flynn knew he was in much less danger from her than from the goon sitting outside in the red Camero.

Um, yes. I do the nuts-and-bolts, Ellie said, her smile seeming mechanical.

Sadly, my parents were estranged before my birth, Flynn told Davenport, weaving the story as he went. My mother returned to Ireland to raise me. I really only got to know my father recently. We've been trying to make up for lost time. He wants me to learn the jewelry trade from the ground up. Only lately has he been taking me to trade shows—

Ellie looked over at him sharply and Flynn knew he'd scored a point for knowing that little bit of lingo.

—and teaching me about the gemology trade. Up until now, we've been concentrating on him passing his business acumen down to me. You know, teaching me the basics of running a successful business, particularly one with the history of ours.

Margaret gave a snort of laughter, which she covered with a cough.

Ireland, huh? I thought you sounded like you were from somewhere overseas, Davenport concluded.

Yes. Flynn went on. My father and I find that people value tradition to back up their higher-end purchases. We fully intend to expand and diversify our stock. Moving into even more up-scale items has long been my father's desire. I feel, Mr. Davenport, that we're just the store for your new shopping center.

This time the look Ellie sent his was almost approving. Flynn had to bite back a smile.

Davenport nodded. I'm glad you made it to lunch today, Tripp. I think we can go ahead with the leasing plans...since you're representing your father's interests in the negotiations. I've been telling Ms. Myers here that I handpick each business in my shopping centers. A strong public presence is necessary at this level of business and I can see that you have that going for you.

The older man nodded again. With you—a young up and coming business owner—your jewelry store might be right for our venture. I like the store's tradition. Founded by your grandfather, run by your father with his son in the wings to uphold the family tradition. Good marketing concept. Conveys quality, which is what we need in our stores. Of course, you'll have to be involved in the showroom planning, make sure the architect gets the right 'look.' Hands-on! That's what we want.

Flynn's smile widened. On the other side of Davenport, he could see Ellie's reluctant approval shift rapidly to dismay as she shook her head in agitation.

I'm sure, she swiftly interjected, her smile widening into a persuasive curve, I'm sure Tripp's...father...wouldn't want him to be carrying all the load. Negotiating the lease, working with the security company. That's what I'm employed for. After all, we don't want to burden him too much!

Not at all, my dear Ellie. You work too hard as it is. I don’t mind picking up the slack, Flynn said with inward amusement. She didn't want him near her high-dollar stock or involved in what she considered to be her business. I'm very excited about becoming more hands-on at the store. One might say I'm a hands-on kind of guy.

Good. Good. Davenport put his fork down and extended his hand. It'll be great doing business with you.

The pleasure will be all mine. Flynn smiled.

If looks could kill, he knew he'd be slumped across the table from the force of Ellie's glare now.

I'll give you a call to discuss the lease, Carl Davenport said.

#

Ellie watched Davenport shake the dark-haired imposter's hand again as they stood in the restaurant foyer. Remembering what her dentist had said about grinding her teeth, she fought the urge. Thomas Cullen, III!

It didn't help matters that the guy was so damned good-looking. The charcoal suit fit his six foot body well, sitting comfortably on what looked to be a muscled frame. With his dark, dark hair and vivid blue eyes, he was almost too handsome. Men this attractive just couldn't be trustworthy.

Certainly. Glad to meet you, as well, the younger man assured Davenport as they walked through the restaurant's glass doors.

Who the hell was he? And how had this guy known everything he knew? She asked herself again as they paused on the brick walkway. If she hadn't just come up with the idea, she might have thought that someone had sent him to the rescue. But no one else knew about this. She hadn't even known about it herself until a few minutes before! He'd just stepped into the pretense as if he actually was Junior's son.

He could only have nefarious reasons for this pretense.

Returning Davenport's wave as the man departed, the impostor turned back to where she and Margaret stood waiting.

Who the hell are you? And what are you up to? Ellie asked in a hard voice as soon as the developer was out of earshot.

Now, Ms. Myers, calm yourself, the man soothed with brazen ease. Putting a hand beneath her elbow, he glanced around the parking lot before urging Ellie along the walk that ran the length of the parking area.

More startled than she wanted to be by the guy's unexpected touch, Ellie didn't resist, but instead fell into step next to him.

Don't feel you have to thank me, ladies, he assured them, the touch of Irish in his voice only adding to his smooth words.

Thank you? Are you nuts? Ellie demanded. "Who are you? Where did you come from? And why are you introducing yourself as Junior's son? Junior doesn’t even have a son."

Behind her, she could hear Margaret's muffled bark of laughter as she followed them down the walk.

That you know of, the stranger finished.

Ellie stood looking at him, her mouth dropped open. He was claiming to be Junior’s actual son? She said flatly, Junior doesn’t have a son.

You and Margaret were in a tight spot, he said, still with that soothing tone, and I thought the gentlemanly thing to do was to—

Make it even tighter? she finished his sentence. "I don't know who you are, but you sure aren't Junior's son! Junior has no children."

As far as you know, the man said again, his vivid blue eyes seeming to be full of mischief and sympathy, at the same time. That's what makes this pretense so workable, correct?

"There's nothing workable about this, Ellie declared. Now that he's met you, Davenport clearly expects to keep working with you, whoever you are."

A cell phone in his pocket rang just then, prompting the man to reach into his jacket.

Hello?

Ellie came to a stop next to her Toyota Celica. With Margaret at her elbow, she looked sourly at the man while he talked on his phone. This was ridiculous.

From the man's black-cased Iphone, a belligerent voice could be heard, the volume of which prompted the pseudo Tripp to move it an inch away from his ear.

Yes. Yes, I hear you. Yes, well, it's only natural that my former secretary would have my cell phone number in her phone, isn't it? No, Rock, I truly hope that's not necessary. I'm sure we'd both regret it.

The tall, dark-haired man sent Ellie an apologetic smile to which she could only respond by cocking an eyebrow at him, still considering and discarding ways she could be rid of him and keep Davenport on board.

I understand—

The voice emitting from the cell phone was shouting loudly enough for a few obscenities to be audible.

Well, thank you for the heads-up, the fake younger Cullen said. Goodbye.

Apparently not turning a hair at the graphic threats just uttered, Tripp put his phone back in his jacket pocket. You know, Ellie. I just might be able to help you out for a few days with this Davenport situation.

Well, thanks, Ellie said coolly. I really appreciate that. Leave me a phone number and if we decide we need you again—

Mr. Davenport indicated his desire to 'work closely' with me as the store owner, he pointed out. Seems to me I'm in the game with you.

"We don't have a game, Ellie retorted. And you're not the store owner. This isn't a scam. I'm simply running a business and trying to keep our heads above water the only way I see."

I understand, he responded, the soothing note in his voice again. And I'm here at your disposal to help. Perhaps I should, however, at least see the store...just so I can better play my role. You were heading back there now, were you not?

~ *** ~

CHAPTER TWO

Ellie answered her buzzing phone as she stood outside the restaurant, Margaret and the stranger talking as she turned to the side to block the breeze.

Davenport’s voice came through the phone. He’d just left the restaurant, driving away in his SUV as they stood next to her car.

Ms. Myers?

Yes. Yes, Mr. Davenport.

I don’t have young Tripp’s cell number. Give me a message for him.

Yes, of course.

Tell him I’m glad to have him aboard and, as long as he’ll be actively involved in his father’s place, I think we can do business.

You won’t regret this, Mr. Davenport. Ellie assured him, giving Margaret a thumbs-up, a rush of excitement singing through her veins. Our business will be an asset to the mall, she affirmed strongly.

Good. Now make sure Tripp gets my message. I’ve got a good impression of him and I think he’ll be a great face for the mall. Strong, sensible. The kind of man achievers can identify with. Just the person to be your store’s manager.

Ellie had to clench her teeth to keep from giving vent to her frustration. What the hell she was going to do with the fake Tripp, she wasn’t sure. I don’t know how active he can be in this, Mr. Davenport. His father has given him other duties just to help him get his feet wet. He’s just recently joined the business...

Like in the last hour!

...and he’s not up to speed—

Davenport interrupted, Then he can get up to speed with this project. Tell him I want to see him at the planning meeting we’re holding for all the mall leasers.

Ellie stared ahead, knowing there was nothing to do right now, but agree. ...of course. Of course, he and I will be there. 

#

Margaret! Ellie hissed to her assistant over the top of the car as she closed her car door a few minutes later outside Thomas Cullen and Son Jewelers. The fake Tripp, whoever he was, hadn’t yet managed to crawl out of the backseat of her car.

"Are we really taking this guy into the store and introducing him to our employees as Junior's son?"

Hey, Margaret said with a chuckle, it was your idea. And you’re the one who told Carl Davenport that he’ll be with you at the leaser meeting.

What a quaint vintage look your store has. The impostor surveyed the old building as he climbed out of the passenger side of Ellie's Celica.

It just added to his unreal charm that he'd insisted on Margaret taking the front seat while he folded his six foot length into the racy Toyota's compact back seat.

Ellie cast a jaundiced eye at the weathered storefront with the vacant spaces on either side. Well, it'll have to do for now.

The entire north side of old Bartlesboro was sinking into a state of genteel decay. When Thomas' father had founded the store, the location fronted onto a thriving main street. With the new interstate having been built twenty years ago, the old downtown area was bypassed, leaving Thomas Cullen and Son Jewelers behind. Bartlesboro, in the way that cities shifted, had grown out in other areas.

So, he came to stand behind her. Let’s go in, shall we?

Just try not to say anything stupid. She knew she sounded waspish, but this situation was beyond anything!

Now, Ellie, he said with another of his charming smiles, "don't sell yourself short. As Margaret said in the car, this doesn't have to be a big deal. I’m sure you’re equal to anything. I'll make myself available for a week or so, pop in and out as your boss's son. Go to the leasers meeting. Meet once or twice with Davenport and voilà! You have your new store in the more lucrative location. Good for everyone."

She turned to look at him through narrowed eyes. How exactly is this good for you? And how do I know you're not planning to rob the store?

Don't worry, he assured her with a straight face, I’m just passing through.

This is going to be interesting. Margaret stumped up the steps. We’re actually taking him in here and lying to the staff.

Ellie shrugged. Well, we were already stupid enough to keep quiet while he introduced himself as Thomas Cullen, the Third, to Davenport and we even let him into the car with us. Seems to me we've made our decision.

"It isn't like we've got a lot of other things we can do if