Forgotten Arrangement: Amanda's Story

By Haven Raines

After a stressful confrontation with her soon-to-be ex-husband, Amanda Coulter has to deal with her spa business and the murder of two actors vacationing at the resort. While fleeing from the police who believe she is the killer, she is in an accident and loses her memory. An old boyfriend whisks her to Missouri where she stays until her memory returns. She learns the ins-and-outs of his Ghost Hunter business and falls for her abductor. When her memory returns she is faced with the guilt of forgetting her two children and finds herself expecting. Will she forgive her abductor or deny him when he comes to Florida to claim her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Haven Raines
• Release date: May 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311233929

Book preview

Chapter 1

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The Ranch – Calm Horizons Spa Headquarters – Florida

A knock on Amanda’s suite door jarred her awake. She picked up the alarm clock and groaned. It’s only five a.m. Who needs me at this hour? She rolled off the edge of the mahogany sleigh bed and grabbed her housecoat on the way to the door.

She peeked out through a small crack and her heart dropped into her stomach. Could it be? Rubbing her eyes, she opened the bedroom door a little wider. Eric? Her almost ex-husband’s threatening stare would scare the people he worked with, but it didn’t worry her. He was in her home, and she had many employees to call upon if needed.

Open this door and let me in. I’m your husband, for God’s sake.

Really? Could have fooled me. The last time I saw you was in England at the separation hearing. She flipped the lock.

He pushed the door open so hard, it banged her head, knocking her back against the wall. With determined steps he strode into the room. And I got summer visitation with our two kids, or don’t you remember?

Ouch. Wait a minute, I didn’t invite you in. He couldn’t barge into her home like this. She rushed to the phone but misdialed. Crap. She punched in the spa emergency number again and sucked in her breath. Someone would be here within ten minutes to help. She flinched and backed away as he came close.

His eyes opened wide. Really, Amanda, you think I’m going to hurt you?

She unclenched her hands and made a concerted effort to relax. She glanced at the wall clock. Nine minutes and someone would be here. She should be frightened. He’d hurt her once and that was enough for her, but he’d never harmed the kids. Only ignored them. He was never there for her or them. That was the kicker.

Sure, her job as manager of the corporate offices for Calm Horizons Spa Resorts in Florida demanded a lot of her time, but she was able to give the children the attention needed to keep them happy and well behaved. His work managing his family’s estate and other holdings took him all over the world. His mother had always been more important to him than her or the kids. I remember, but you never showed up for your weekend visits, so how was I supposed to know you’d want them for the summer?

You thought you could relocate them from England to Florida, and I wouldn’t notice? Eric settled into an overstuffed chair and propped his feet on her silk bed sheet. My lawyer says you’ve kidnapped them, and I can take you back to court for sole custody. You want that?

The muscles along Amanda’s spine cramped into one long searing spasm. She’d not let him get the better of her. To give herself time to think, she crossed the room and grabbed her hairbrush. Should she toss it at him or clear the tangles from her hair?

He glanced at her then the brush. I wouldn’t, if I were you.

She dragged the brush through her wavy chestnut hair and held back the scream of outrage that bubbled in her throat. Just what would you do? she challenged. Sit back and take it? He wasn’t going to take her kids anywhere. If they went, she went. See how he liked them apples.

Leaning back, he rested with his hands behind his head. I suggest you do whatever I say if you want those kids to stay here with you.

Amanda paced. Five minutes and the emergency team would be here to rescue her. She could hold him off for five minutes. What do you have in mind? Do you want to use the spa all summer as your home base and see the kids when you can fit them in?

Don’t be sarcastic. I do want a room at the spa. I plan to see the children every day and take them on outings. He leaned forward. See a movie, the botanical gardens, Disney World, Gator World. You get the picture—a real vacation with dad. Get to know them better.

Yeah, that wasn’t likely. Any time you spend with them will be more than you have in the last five months. I cringe every time you call, knowing full well you won’t show up. I stopped telling the children.

I’ve changed.

Uh-huh! Like she believed him. Does that mean your girlfriend dumped you? She air-quoted the word girlfriend.

He brushed back his dark wavy hair and smirked. Don’t be silly, Amanda. Look at me. Do you really think I’m dump-able material?

It’s all about you, isn’t it? What about how the children feel? Close to tears, Amanda turned away. Her two darling children were still in grade school. Too young to have their world turned upside down.

Eric crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. I love our children and … He stopped then laid his forehead against hers. And I love you still. I can’t get you out of my thoughts.

Amanda jerked free. Oh crud. Two more minutes. Where in the world was the emergency team? Don’t start that lovey-dovey stuff with me. I’m not fooled. You want something. Something here at the spa. Money? Property settlement? Something. And I’m not playing that game. You either straighten up your act where the children are concerned, or leave. It’s that simple.

He lifted the coat he’d placed so neatly over the back of the chair and popped his hat on his head. You’ll have my lawyer’s response in the mail by the end of the week. Throwing her a kiss, he said, Till we meet again.

After he left, Amanda stood, back against the door, gulping air to calm her breathing. Eyes closed, she pressed her hands together until her knuckles cracked. Eric didn’t have any idea the lengths she would go in order to keep the children away from him. The low-down slimy S.O.B. would rot in hell if she had any say about the situation.

The door burst open and knocked Amanda off balance. Arms flailing, she landed on the floor. Robert, one of the massage therapists and Connie, her spa manager, plowed into the room and stared at her sprawled on the floor.

Ten minutes exactly. Eric had been been and out in ten minutes, threatened her, and turned her world upside down.

Robert pulled her up. What? Where’s the emergency? He cocked his head. Was this a drill?

Thanks. She brushed dust from her housecoat. No, there was a real threat. My ex-husband, Eric, but he left already. We’ll need to cut five minutes off the response time to handle emergencies from now on.

Questioning glances bounced between Connie and Robert. Guys, a lot can happen in ten minutes, believe me. Were they for real? Wait until one of them needed help, then reality would put its ugly foot forward.

Chapter 2

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Amanda’s lawyer contacted Eric’s lawyer. She stared at her lawyer’s faxed recommendation—allow your ex-husband to stay at the Ranch for the summer, get his fill of the kids. The coward didn’t have the nerve to call and tell her in person. She’d ripped up the fax and tossed it in the waste can.

So, Eric got his way and moved into one of the guest suites. So far he’d been in residence for two weeks and only had lunch with the kids once. Par for the course. He’d lied again. What was his real motive?

Since they were only separated, not divorced yet, he still could cause her and her mother’s business some real problems. He hadn’t tried to interfere yet, but what was keeping him from trying a takeover? Why was he still here? He hadn’t taken one plane trip since her arrived. Something fishy was up.

In the kitchen Amanda intercepted the waitress who delivered Eric’s lunch. Petite, cute with long dark brown curls and dressed in short-shorts. The chef stood by the stove stirring a pot of soup and nodded when Amanda arrived. Is that Mr. Kaul’s lunch?

Yes, ma’am.

Amanda reached for the tray. Here give it to me. I’ll take his tray over today. He was up to his old tricks. Going behind her back to ingratiate the staff. Giving them orders like he owned the place to make them think he was the one in charge.

The waitress gripped the tray. Oh, it’s no trouble. She proceeded toward the kitchen door.

Amanda put her hand on the girl’s arm. "I said I will deliver Mr. Kaul’s tray today."

The girl glanced at the chef who nodded and said, Ms. Coulter, he has stipulated it be delivered by Carline and only Carline.

Really? Then he’ll be disappointed today, won’t he? If he complains to you, I want to know immediately. Amanda looked Carline up and down. Carline’s attire was not in sync with resort policy. Carline, I suggest you review the resort policy dress code and modify your attire appropriately. Carline and chef exchanged worried glances.

Amanda took possession of the tray and raised the metal cover. T-bone steak smothered in mushrooms, asparagus, twice backed potato. A bottle of Chardonnay wrapped in a cloth napkin laid next to the plate. Hmm, He must think her kitchen revolved around his wishes. Well, no more special treatment for him.

* *

Amanda kicked his door to get his attention. Luckily for him, he answered with his clothes on. If he was sexually harassing her staff, his visit would be cut short no matter what recommendations her attorney had. Putting on her sweet and cheerful face, Amanda set his tray on the table by the window overlooking the pool. He could uncover his own food and arrange his own dishes for the meal. She wasn’t his waitress. She strode across the room to glance at his desk covered with papers. He grabbed a folder and stuffed it in his briefcase. The lock clicked.

Crossing her arms, she waited until his eyes met hers. Okay, first. No more special orders. You order from the regular daily menu or have your meals carried in from a nearby restaurant, and you pay the tab. Next, the children have been asking when you’re taking them to Disney World, etc., etc., etc.

He lounged against the wall and lit a cigar. I’ve been busy with edits on my next book.

I see. You’re an author now? Therefore, the children take back seat?

He straightened and puffed out a smoke ring. Amanda, it’s not like that.

She nodded toward the brief case. Mommy’s business? Did she have to put up with his cheesy smoke rings again? He thought he was so cute, but anyone could blow smoke rings. Ignoring his carnival tricks, she squinted. Then what is it like?

He pointed at the calendar hanging behind his desk. "I can spare two hours on Saturday. Tell them I’ll pick them up around one. Will that appease you?"

"It’s not me you have to appease. I won’t tell them and have you not show up again. They are currently in the playroom. You tell them yourself."

He stepped forward, his hand clamped her shoulder. Amanda, honey, I’m busy.

She jerked back. God, the man thought the world revolved around him and his wishes. And I’m not busy? You tell them and keep you promise or…

Eyebrows raised, he blew another smoke ring. Or?

She crossed the room and turned the door knob. Or I’ll confer with my attorney about next steps.

You do that. You might find his recommendations are not to your liking.

His words had a threat behind them, but she wasn’t going to let him divert her. Fine. The door slammed behind her as she left the room.

* *

She settled in her tiny office and focused on the month’s bills. The rooms at The Ranch, as they called the Calm Horizons Corporate Headquarters, didn’t have the spacious office space her mother’s overseas spas afforded, but she’d decorated her space in brown tones and had a cherry-wood desk and two book shelves installed. On the shelves were leather-bound classics in hunter greens, deep blues, maroons, and rich browns. The look was professional and organized—just like her management style. The delicate porcelain fairy dangling behind the curtains was the only telltale evidence of whimsy.

She punched a button on the intercom. Cassandra, please bring your pad. I have a letter that must get out today. She shuffled papers on her desk and scribbled notes on a pad. Gazing at the clock, she realized it had been seven minutes and Cassandra hadn’t arrived. She punched the button. Cassandra? No answer. She must be handling some minor crisis.

Amanda dialed the spa in England. Hi, Hazel. Is Mom around?

Hazel was the former housekeeper who’d invested in the business and managed the English branch, Farnsworth Hall, with her new husband, Jarvis. Jarvis was cantankerous and set in his ways, but Hazel kept him in line most of the time.

Sorry Amanda, Elizabeth’s with a client. May I have her call you back?

Absolutely. How are Rachel’s and Trace’s kids? Her sister, Rachel, had married Hazel’s and Jarvis’s eldest son, Trace, and they’d produced a set of twins. Trace also had a twelve-year-old son from a previous marriage.

Everyone’s fine. Dimitri and Jarvis are cleaning hidden passage ways.

Sounds like a Jarvis thing.

You’re right. He’s setting up another ghost sighting for the guests.

Guess I better get back to business. Give Jarvis and the kids a hug from me. Bye. She’d get to some much-needed busy work before her mother called back.

Going to the door, she peeked out. Still no Cassandra. Where in the world was the girl? It wasn’t her normal break time. Maybe she needed a bathroom break. Amanda sat in her assistant’s chair to wait. Another ten minutes and Amanda started to worry. This wasn’t like Cassandra.

Voices came from the lobby, high-pitched and loud. Someone screamed Amanda rushed out into the lobby and there on the floor lay Cassandra, pale as a ghost. A man knelt by her side and shook her arm gently.

Amanda’s heart pounded as she rushed to her assistant’s side. Cassandra, open your eyes. But Cassandra didn’t move. Amanda’s heart pounded, her throat constricted. She blinked and took a deep breath. Her emergency focus kicked in. In her most authoritative voice, she said, Call 911. A guest punched in the numbers on her cell phone.

Amanda checked for a pulse. It was there but extremely weak. Had Cassie passed out or tripped? Her blood sugar dropped? She looked around, the tiles were intact. There was no obstacle that could have caused her to trip. Cassie, blond, strikingly beautiful and full-figured, had recently married. Whatever was the problem?

In the background, the guest talking to the 911 operator registered. The ambulance is on the way. Said it’d be about ten minutes.

Amanda nodded. Again with ten minutes. A lot could go wrong in ten minutes. She patted Cassandra’s cheek, heaving a sigh when Cassie’s head moved. She’s coming around. The crowd of onlookers closed