Whispered Secrets by Elizabeth Lennox
Chapter 1
If a wounded soul needed a soft spot to land, this would be it.
Maggie Beauchamp sighed as she admired the Rose Garden Apartments. She’d done this, she thought to herself with pride. She’d restored these amazing historic buildings and revived the beauty that had been deteriorating through neglect and lack of funding.
She smiled as the sweet scent of her last yellow roses lifted their delicate blooms into the early morning sunshine. Fall was fast approaching, but her yellow roses were tough and wouldn’t give up. The roses had been a gift from a previous resident and good friend, Lilly Hamilton…wait, no she was Lilly Gataki now. And she was about to give birth to her first child.
Sighing with happiness, Maggie pushed away from the telephone pole and walked back to her apartment. Yes, this was a good place for wounded souls, herself included. This place had healed her. It had made her a better person. At least, Maggie hoped that she was a better person now. She definitely hadn’t been very nice a couple of years ago, but Maggie considered herself to be a work in progress. Just like these buildings.
Stretching her legs, she glanced over at the building across the street. The stucco buildings were chipped and filthy, covered in grime and graffiti. The previously beautiful landscaping was withered and choked with weeds, trash buried in the winding vines. The chipped sign for the building still stood, but the paint had faded from the sun, wind and rain, not to mention the miserable humidity that accompanied the intense heat every summer. Several of the apartment doors had been bashed in and replaced with plywood, which had then been marred with graffiti and gang symbols as well.
The small apartment complex was an eyesore for the neighborhood, but Maggie could see the potential in the structures. It could be brought back to life. Just like Rose Gardens, the bones were there. It just needed a soft touch, someone to care for the buildings.
Maybe that was going to happen. A “For Sale” sign had been nailed to the side of the building when Maggie had taken over here at Rose Gardens. Unfortunately, even that sign had faded, as if the property knew that no one would want such an old, beaten down place and had given up on even trying.
But now, there was a fresh “Sold” sign over the “For Sale” notice. Someone had bought the old beauty!
“Who bought you, my lady?” she whispered, still watching the worn out property as if it were an aging beauty queen. Unfortunately, there was no answer. Maggie felt a kinship with this neighborhood, and had since the first moment she’s laid eyes on the place. The residents here had taken her in when she’d been so desperately sad and lost. They’d saved her. And she’d put just as much energy into saving them as well as saving these buildings.
Turning away from the beat up property, she surveyed the freshly painted, revitalized Rose Gardens Apartments. Unfortunately, something niggled at the back of her mind. Too many of the properties around the neighborhood had been bought up lately. It was a mystery, but hopefully, everything would turn out well in the end.
With a smile, she turned back, heading home. She waved to Mick as he stepped out from between the buildings, heading for his auto repair shop. Every day, six days a week, Mick trudged off to his shop two blocks away. He carried a cooler that contained his lunch and a thermos with his coffee, and worked on the cars that pulled into his shop, the neighborhood customers eager for Mick’s expertise. The man could make a whole lot more money if he charged higher prices. But Mick considered his repair shop to be his way of helping out the neighborhood. And he really was a genius with anything mechanical. Most of the residents of this neighborhood couldn’t afford a new car, so Mick kept the old ones running and kept his prices low, so that the residents could afford to get to work every day and put food on their tables for the kids.
A good man, Maggie thought, relieved that the renovations on his apartment were finally finished.
Speaking of men, she thought, pausing and glancing over at the building next door. Who was the guy walking along the balcony? He wore jeans and a hard hat, flannel shirt and work boots. But from this distance, she couldn’t see his face. Still, Maggie got the sense that this man was…not wounded. She tilted her head, trying to gauge his temperament. No, he wasn’t wounded, like so many of the residents around here.
Angry. Yes, that was the right word. The man was angry. His movements were jerky, almost impatient.
Was he a construction worker? Maggie knew that several of the construction companies in this area didn’t treat their employees well. They cheated their workers out of hourly wages, stripped them of benefits, and fired them as soon as someone came along that would work for a lower wage.
Was this guy looking for a place to sleep? Maggie’s heart lurched at the thought of someone in need. A few years ago, Maggie would have ignored someone that scruffy looking. She would have turned away and headed for the nail salon. Someone that desperate would have been beneath her notice.
Her life was a wee bit different these days. So instead of turning around and going about her business, she pivoted towards the abandoned building. It wasn’t safe for that man to be in there, and too many people had been using those abandoned apartments for a place to sleep.
“Can I help you?” she called out, having lost sight of the guy after he’d stepped into one of the apartments.
The man stepped out of the apartment and Maggie gasped. This wasn’t a vagrant looking for a place to crash. This man was…goodness, he was hot! Scruffy, definitely. But still…magnificently gorgeous! The dark hair was mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. There was about two days’ worth of beard hiding what was most likely a square, hard jawline. High cheekbones and light, blue eyes that were…um…glaring at her?
Why would this man be angry with her? She’d done nothing wrong!
“Who are you?” the man demanded.
Maggie pulled back, startled by the rage in his tone. “I’m Maggie Beauchamp,” she replied, folding her arms protectively over her stomach. “And you are?”
“Oliver,” he snapped. Those dark eyebrows lowered over impressively blue eyes. “What are you doing here?”
He tucked his hard hat under his arm, then ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply, as if he hadn’t slept in a long, long time. That sigh only reinforced the impression that the guy was homeless and that he was looking for a place to sleep. And maybe a place to hide?
At the fatigue around his eyes, Maggie’s heart melted. “You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” She ignored the startled look in his eyes. “I can tell that you’re tired, and by the looks of your jeans, you haven’t had a place to crash in a while.” She figured he was ex-military, like Jimmy, another resident of Rose Gardens. Jimmy was a former Navy SEAL and…well, demons lurked in his memories. Dangerous, horrible demons. And he was wounded deep down in his soul. Hurt in ways that he’d struggled for several years to heal. Living off of his military pension, Jimmy had struggled with alcohol addiction. Slowly, Jimmy was fighting his way out of the nightmares in his head. The man hadn’t had a drink in over a year now. But every day was a struggle.
Maggie straightened her shoulders back and eyed the man carefully. He was definitely muscular. Probably just recently released from the military. And if he was looking around here for a place to sleep, it was just a small sidestep into the dangers of addiction.
No way! Not another one! Maggie wasn’t letting another veteran fall into the depths of despair and addiction. She was going to help this man and give him a way out.
“You’re tired, Oliver. And I’m sure that you’re hungry.” She took his arm and led him down the stairs. “This place is a mess and isn’t fit to live in. But I have a place that you can stay tonight.” She felt the resistance in his arm, but tightened her grip, towing him along.
Those startling blue eyes narrowed down at her. “Lady, I don’t know what–”
“I know,” she interrupted, patting his arm comfortingly. Wow, the guy had muscles! Big, solid muscles! “You’re strong now. And you think you can do this alone. But you can’t. I’ve seen it in others and I won’t let you go down the same path!”
“What path?” he asked, still following her, but with a confused look to his handsome, all-American features.
“The path of self-destruction,” she explained earnestly. “Jimmy can help you. And maybe you can help Jimmy. He’s ex-military too, but he’s working hard to pull himself together. You can too. If you haven’t gone down that path, then he’ll help you to stay away.”
Oliver blinked down at the impassioned woman tugging at him, not sure what the hell was going on. There were more than a few things that he should probably address in her passionate speech, but he wasn’t sure where to start. Besides, she was cute! Damn cute! And those tight leggings and sports jacket hugged her figure, showcasing a pair of long legs, a very fine ass, and a pair of perfectly shaped breasts that looked to be just the right size to fill his hands.
While his thoughts lingered on her delectable figure, he tried to stop their forward momentum. But the little woman was stronger than she looked. And she was determined to save him from…something, although Oliver still wasn’t sure what. Also, who was this “Jimmy” person that would help him?
Curious now, they crossed the street and walked down a sidewalk lined with beautiful landscaping on both sides. Oliver was so confused but he wanted to understand, which was the only reason he allowed this adorable female to lead him to…somewhere. Tearing his eyes away from her soft lips, he realized that she was guiding him towards the Rose Garden Apartments, the only few buildings in this neighborhood that had any semblance of maintenance.
“Here,” she said, pulling out a set of keys. “This apartment hasn’t been renovated yet, so it’s a bit of a mess. The previous tenant left a bed and some furniture. I can get you sheets and towels from the Center.” She glanced at his jeans and Oliver’s mind blanked again. It took all of his remaining mental resources after the last few days of exhaustive meetings to not reveal how strongly this woman’s touch affected him.
For someone so small, she had a powerful presence. Her pulling and tugging…well, he wasn’t sure why he was allowing it, other than because he was…fascinated and curious. Yep, that had to be it. The woman intrigued him.
Why the hell did she think that he needed a place to live though?
“I’ll get you some clean clothes too.”
Oliver glanced down at his jeans and…granted, they were a bit threadbare in spots. And covered in smudges and dirt because he’d been inspecting that dump across the street. But these were his favorite jeans. Plus, he’d been exploring the abandoned apartments, which were filthy, making notes and mentally planning his next move.
“That’s…very kind of you,” he said, surprised by her passion, even if he was still confused. She obviously had no idea about his personal net worth.
And damn, that was refreshing!
The pretty woman snorted dismissively. Obviously, she didn’t consider herself to be very kind.
Waving a hand towards the apartment’s dim interior, she lifted her anxious gaze to his face. “Will this work?”
Oliver looked around, noting the boxes off to one side and a tattered sofa that had seen better days. There was an air of disrepair everywhere in this place. It was nothing like his penthouse downtown, which had been decorated by a celebrated designer just a year ago. His penthouse had every imaginable luxury and massive windows that let in the light, plus a large balcony where he could look out at the city.
And yet, somehow, he felt comfortable here in this deteriorating mess.
“Yeah. I–”
Those green eyes sparkled with relief, leaving him speechless for a moment.
“Good!” she interrupted before he could tell her that he didn’t need a place to live.
“Do you need a job? If you do, then I can probably help you there too.” She stepped into the kitchen. “The owner of this apartment complex is a wonderful man. He’s authorized the renovation of every apartment. So if you’re looking for work, I’m sure he’d hire you to help out with the renovations.”
A job? He almost laughed. Oliver’s development company employed over thirty thousand people. At any point in time, he had approximately one hundred projects under construction around the globe. Vendors fought tooth and nail to work for him, and yet, this little woman was offering him a job as a part time construction worker?
He felt as if he’d stepped into an alternative universe!
“I…uh…I have a job,” he told her, not exactly sure what to say. She was pretty, sexy, and kind?
Yep, definitely an alternative universe. That was the only explanation that made sense. He’d stepped into a time warp somehow and this gorgeous woman was a test to see if he could make heads or tails out of this new world.
“Well, of course you do,” she agreed easily, and he could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn’t believe him. Were his clothes really that bad? He ran a hand over his face, trying to hide his amusement. But his hand ran over the scruff that he hadn’t bothered to shave this morning. Granted, he hadn’t showered this morning either, knowing that he would be exploring filthy spaces. And his clothes obviously showed that those old apartments had been dirtier than anticipated. But she thought he was homeless and jobless?
No wait…she thought he was an ex-military guy down on his luck and heading towards self-destruction. Drugs and alcohol? Nope! Okay, yeah, he enjoyed a good glass of wine or a great scotch on occasion. But drugs? Never! Her words were slowly starting to filter into his lust-boggled mind. He wanted to laugh. Hell, he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her!
But he pulled back, evaluating the situation with a large dose of cynicism. No one was this nice. This was a test. A trick, perhaps. Looking around, he wondered if he was being punked. Were there hidden cameras somewhere?
“Um…I’m not sure that…?”
Apparently, she wasn’t finished. The beauty lifted her hand, her forefinger pointed towards the cracked ceiling. “Oh, and tonight, its hot dogs and s’mores out by the fire pit.”
His eyes widened with surprise. S’mores? He hadn’t had s’mores since he’d been a Boy Scout, way back in elementary school.
Her eyes widened. “I mean, the s’mores and hot dogs are…they’re complex issues.” She closed her eyes and did a slight head shake. “Not complex as in complicated,” she went on to explain, obviously flustered. “I meant, the hot dogs and s’mores are for the apartment complex.” She blinked, mentally going over her words, then shook her head again. “For the residents, not the building. Buildings don’t eat s’mores,” she felt the need to explain. “Or hot dogs.” Once again, the lovely, adorable woman closed her eyes for a moment and sighed heavily.
Oliver swallowed a laugh. Something told him that any show of amusement might be taken as an insult by this prickly beauty.
She shuffled her feet and explained, not looking him in the eye now. “I’m not asking you out,” she said, as a soft, pink stain moved up her neck to her cheeks. “Not that you aren’t handsome! You are, and…” her gaze moved slowly over his body, taking it all in, and Oliver gritted his teeth to keep himself from showing how much he wanted her to ask him out. Not just on a date. But to her bed! “You’re a very handsome man and obviously take excellent care of yourself. You’ve probably done a lot of wonderful things for our country, which is why you’ve kept your body in such…” she stopped, seeming to trip over her words. Was she actually going to say it?
Damn, she sighed and Oliver could tell that she was mentally backing away. Damn, she was cute! And hot! He could see her nipples as they pressed against the thin material of her shirt.
Finally, she opened her eyes and bowed her head. “I’m really making a muck of this, aren’t I? And embarrassing us both in the process. I’m so sorry,” she told him, taking a step back. “Seriously, I’m not trying to force you into taking this apartment. I just want to help. If you want the place, then the rent is pretty affordable.” She named a price that made Oliver cough in surprise. How the hell could the owner maintain a profit margin charging so little? And renovating the apartments? At that price? Maybe the rent increased after the apartments were updated. He’d been hearing rumors about Rose Gardens Apartments, which is why he’d started looking around this neighborhood. As a developer, Oliver could tell this neighborhood was perfect for a regeneration project. Which is why he’d quietly started buying up as many of the surrounding properties as he could.
At his stunned look, she started to reach out to him, then pulled her hands back. “Is that too much? This is a special apartment building. So, if you can’t afford it, say so. We can work something out.”
“That’s fine,” he replied, shocking himself. What was “fine”? He wasn’t moving in here! He had a ten thousand square foot penthouse about ten miles away! His place had extraordinary views and everything exactly the way he wanted it.
“Good!” she sighed, obviously relieved. “I’ll have Eddie stop by and tell you about the renovations. He’s not in charge, but since its Sunday, the workers are off. But Eddie works with the teams, so he can fill you in on the details.”
Oliver nodded, confused and fascinated. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared down at the woman, aware that he was making her nervous but not sure how to ease her worries. She was such a tiny thing, but those big green eyes were huge with emotions that she was obviously trying to hide.
“Well, if you have time tonight, we’d love to see you at the fire pit. All of us.” Her hand fluttered out, encompassing the other apartments. “The residents, that is.” She took a step backwards, moving carefully towards the doorway. “But if you can’t make it, well, I’ll understand. And…” she waved a hand at the boxes. “I’m sorry that this apartment isn’t renovated. But we’ll get it on the schedule as soon as we can.”
Oliver continued to watch her, wondering who she was. Then he remembered her name. Maggie, he thought, repeating the name in his mind. Maggie Beauchamp. He thought about making a call to his security chief and having him work up a dossier on her. But the idea left a bad taste in his mouth. No, he wouldn’t use his vast resources on this mysterious woman.
He wanted to discover her secrets himself. Not that she could have all that many, he thought with a chuckle as she pulled the door closed, stumbling on the threshold as she hurried away. Unlike his past relationships, Oliver wanted his knowledge of Maggie Beauchamp to come to him the old fashioned way. Through conversation and time.
He watched as the beauty walked away, more fascinated than he’d ever been by a woman.
Time? What the hell? Oliver didn’t have “spare time”. It was a Sunday morning and he had about ten thousand things to get done by the end of the day. He’d come out here to investigate the building he’d just purchased, to inspect the vacant apartments as well as the neighborhood, and develop a plan of attack. He owned pretty much all of the buildings within an eight block radius now. Oliver planned to tear them all down and build sky rise buildings that would include multi-use areas like condominiums, retail spaces, and office areas.
At least, that was the current plan. His idea was to create a whole new go-to area here on the edge of Crystal City. It was a prime spot for building and was ripe for a whole new look. The new Amazon headquarters had just moved in about four miles away. This was a perfect spot for condos and office spaces, new restaurants and bars, nightclubs and…hell, it was exceptionally situated for his plans.
So, what the hell was he doing standing here in this decrepit apartment that needed a whole new lighting system as well as new flooring, cabinets, and…the appliances looked to be at least forty years old! He should get out of here and head back to his car, which was parked over on the other side of the building next door. His Maserati stuck out like a sore thumb in this area and would be a prime temptation for car thieves.
And yet, instead of leaving and getting back to work, Oliver walked slowly through the apartment, mentally noting all of the areas that needed to be fixed and updated. The pale pink tiles in the bathroom were clean-ish, but had probably been installed back in the sixties. They’d obviously been re-grouted at some point, because the grout was relatively clean. But there were gaps in the grout, which would cause problems if water seeped behind the tiles. The floor tiles were an odd shade of avocado green. Hmm…pink and green bathroom. Not the best combination. The bathroom vanity was outdated as well, but had been made from solid wood, so only parts of it were dry rotted. He flipped the switch for the bathroom fan, but nothing happened. Looking up, he noticed the well rusted fan, which should have been thrown away decades ago.
He wandered into the bedroom, surprised to find a large mattress that didn’t seem too dirty. He didn’t relish the idea of sleeping on a stranger’s bed though. The closet doors were off the hinges and…okay actually, the hinges were gone. The doors were in good shape, but again, they were bi-fold doors that had gone out of style decades ago. A pair of “barn doors” would look good in here. And would be easier to use. The windows were smallish, but with trim and the right kind of windows installed, they could look funky instead of dated.
He returned to the kitchen. The linoleum flooring was scraped and faded, even ripped in several places. Someone had tried to glue the tears back down, but dirt had accumulated in the gash over the years and the edges were dark with grime. The cabinets were the worst though. Several of the doors were hanging from broken hinges, there was rot in several corners, the stove didn’t look as if it would actually work and…the refrigerator should be moved into the bathroom, where it matched the floor. The avocado green fridge was…well, some might call it quaint. He thought it looked pathetic. A remnant of a bygone era that, thankfully, hadn’t lasted long.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he muttered to himself, standing in the middle of the kitchen/den area that was separated only by an L shaped countertop. With his hands fisted on his hips, he shook his head in disgust. “You have work to do.”
With that, he headed towards the doorway, determined to set Ms. Maggie Beauchamp straight. Maybe he’d ask her out for dinner. He could take her to that Italian restaurant that had just opened up down in DuPont Circle. She’d like it. Lots of ambiance and the food was excellent.
So, why did he hesitate at the door? Why did he turn around and, swearing under his breath, grab the key before leaving? What the hell was he thinking?!
