A Mystery Man for Jo: Hope Valley Romance, #5

By Tess Brennan

Jo Bailey has had enough of her high-pressure job in the city. With no idea what the future holds, she quits.

Jo goes back to sleepy Hope Valley to manage her newly-married mother's 'little hobby'—a quirky bookstore that seems to be more of a community center than a real business. Clearly, her mother has no clue about how a business should operate. For heaven's sake, what kind of bookstore has a craft group that takes over on Fridays and ladies playing canasta on Thursday mornings?

Not only that, she learns that her mother has saddled her with some old geezer who sets up camp daily in a corner of the bookstore to write his memoirs. His memoirs.

Isn't a bookstore about buying books, not writing them?

Determined to make the bookstore pay, Jo starts planning changes—but meets with gentle resistance from all the locals, including Mr. Smith, the writer of memoirs. He is not the doddery old octogenarian that she expected, but a mystery man who is bent on keeping his real agenda a secret.

Jo is determined to find out what he's really doing, tapping away at that laptop every morning for three and a half hours. He appears to be taking far too much interest in the townspeople and Jo's own affairs for someone who is merely writing his life history. So… what's going on?

By the time Jo manages to winkle out The Mysterious Mr. Smith's secrets, it's all too late. She has already lost her heart to him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Gem Publishing
• Release date: Oct 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201536602

Book preview

1

Persuasion

Listening to her mother chattering about her world trip, Jo finally had to admit it: that tight feeling in her chest was jealousy. Which made her feel awful because if anyone deserved to be happy, it was her Mom. Newly married to Wallace, she was happier than she’d been in years, and of  course , her mother was looking forward to her six-month-long honeymoon. 

It wasn’t her mother’s fault that Jo was overworked, exhausted, and hated her job. All of which she had done her best to hide from her mother throughout her Mom’s whirlwind romance and marriage to Wallace.

Jo? Are you there?

Jolted back to reality, Jo realized guiltily that her tepid responses had finally signaled to her mother that she wasn’t really paying attention. 

Yes, of course. It all sounds wonderful, Mom. Hearing the flatness in her own voice, Jo added brightly, You’ll have an amazing time!

Her mother was silent for a beat and then said softly, Jo, did you have another bad day at work? 

No, no! We’re just a bit busy right now, that’s all. Everyone has to go through this early in their career, Mom. Jo forced a laugh. In another ten or fifteen years, it’ll be me loading up some new graduate with work while I relax.

Not fooled for a moment, her mother sighed. Oh, Jo… Look, I know you’re unhappy at your job. Don’t you think it’s time that you admitted that you’re simply not suited to it?

Even though her mother was simply voicing the doubts in her own mind, Jo didn’t want to hear them. She’d done brilliantly to secure her job as project manager for a prominent engineering company. Her father, a well-known and popular business tycoon, would have been proud of her. Jonathon Reese Bailey had been known throughout the country over for his innovative projects. He had always worked hard and reaped the rewards, and Jo had wanted nothing more than to follow in his footsteps. 

More than that, she felt it was her duty to carry his legacy with pride. 

Not suited? she said, pushing down a weird feeling of panic at her mother’s words. "Mom, I graduated from Harvard, just like Dad. And I have more work experience at twenty-eight than most people could dream of. I’m eminently suited." 

You have the qualifications, but that’s not what I meant, Jo. I’m worried you’re going to die of a heart attack just as your father did—and if you force yourself to stay in a job you don’t like, working those ridiculous hours, that’s exactly what could happen.

There’s nothing wrong with my health, Mom. You’re making too much of this. Jo tried to keep her voice level, but the emotion showed in her voice. As tired as she was, tears weren’t far away.

I’m not, Jo. Her mother’s voice was firm. I know my daughter. You’re not happy at your job, and you haven’t been happy there for a long time. Your father wouldn’t have wanted you to run yourself into the ground just to prove you’re as good as he was. Your brother is different: he loves the craziness of it all. You don’t.

Maybe Craig and I should switch places, then, Jo said resentfully. 

I didn’t mean that. You shouldn’t be comparing yourself to your brother. You’re your own person, Meryl pointed out patiently. "You’re both on the same path, but he’s happy, and you’re not. Think about it for me, will you? Maybe it’s time for you to try something new."

"Mom. Jo gritted her teeth. I can’t possibly leave. I have rent to pay, and I need to eat. I can’t just drop everything. And I can’t throw away all those years of study. She injected some false enthusiasm into her tone. It will pay off in the end. It’s a job. It doesn’t have to be fun and games."

Maybe not fun and games… but it should be more enjoyable than it is, said a traitorous voice deep inside her. 

You do need to earn a living, that’s true, her mother said. Her voice changed and suddenly became more businesslike. But in my humble opinion, and I’m speaking as your Mom, you need time and space to think about it all for a while. I have a proposal for you.

Jo frowned at the phone, suspicious. What proposal would that be?

My bookstore needs a manager while I’m overseas. If you take a leave of absence from work, you could save me having to find someone else. Her mother’s tone grew persuasive. It’s a lovely store, Jo, really it is. It’s quiet and spacious — well, quiet except when the community groups are in there — and it even has a dedicated reading room. If anywhere on earth is a good place to think about what you want, it would be here in Hope Valley running my bookstore. Really, it almost runs itself! Jo heard her mother take a deep breath. "I want you to come home, Jo. You’re not happy, and if you’re not happy, I’m not happy. Please, come home and do this for me?"

Jo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Her mother’s bookstore? She had excelled at Harvard to run a bookstore? In Hope Valley? 

Her mother had truly lost it. 

Mom. She sucked in a deep breath to stay civil. That doesn’t make any sense. I can’t toss in my job to come and manage a small-town bookstore! You’ll easily be able to find someone else who can do that.

But Jo—

No, Jo said firmly. If I want to be successful, I have to stay here, work hard, and suck it up until I achieve a level of success that will let me take things easier. I’m sure Dad would have wanted me to keep at it. He was no quitter.

There was silence for a long moment, and she could imagine her mother at the other end of the phone, with that little frown forming between her brows. She felt a flash of guilt for dismissing her mother’s suggestion out of hand. I appreciate the thought, but—

"Your father would have wanted you to be happy. That’s why he worked so hard, don’t you know that? So you kids wouldn’t have to."

"He worked hard so we’d all live comfortably and get a good education, so we’d get a good start in life. And now I have to do that too, so that one day when I have a family of my own, they won’t have any worries either. Jo glanced over at her briefcase. Your trip sounds fantastic, and you and Wallace will have a blast. Meanwhile, I’ve got to go, Mom, really. I should do some work if I have any hope of being on top of things tomorrow. Love you! Bye." 

Without giving her mother a chance to say any more, Jo terminated the call. She stared at her bulging briefcase and forced down the resentment at the thought of another evening spent trying to catch up. 

As she’d told her mother, that’s just the way things were. 

So get on with it, Jo.

Not allowing herself any more time to think about it, she got up, spread the files out on the table, and set to work.

2

Burning Bridges

Over the next few weeks, Jo realized that her life was on a downhill slide. It was an endless cycle: get up at dawn, go to work early, work all day, go home late, sit at her laptop until she fell into bed with a headache and gritty eyes. She sacrificed most of her weekends to complete project milestones.

She told herself that things would get better as she wearily dragged herself to work on Monday with yet another tension headache.

Things didn't get better. It seemed impossible, but they got even worse.

She was packing up to go home after another long day of meetings and phone calls and placating clients when her boss came to her office. 

The look on his face signaled a lecture. Jo braced herself. 

Going home already? His brows drew together. I don't need to remind you that we're all under the pump here, Jo.

I know that only too well, she said, massaging her throbbing brow. I've got a killer headache, Scott. 

He heaved an impatient sigh as though she'd invented it just to annoy him. Take some painkillers, then, and sort this out at home once it's gone. I need it first thing tomorrow.

He handed her a thick file, and although she took it, she didn't look inside. Another evening of work? She needed a dark room and a cool cloth and sleep, not just Ibuprofen and an hour's rest. 

It was all too much. Choking back the impulse to tell him what he could do with his file, she shook her head. I'm sorry. I simply can't do this tonight. I can't think straight. Glancing away, she put it on the desk. I'll come in early.

His lips tightened. "That won't work. I need it early tomorrow. If you don't do it tonight, then I'll have to disappoint our clients, and