Forever Betrayed: Forever Bluegrass #3 (3 page)

CHAPTER THREE

“Zain!”

Zain turned at the sound of Abigail’s voice. “Hey, Abby.” From the direction she was coming, Zain could tell she had just been at her parents’ house. He was sure they were enjoying having her in town for the month. Since graduating from college, Abby, the girl he had grown up with and who was literally like a sister to him, had been scarce. She was living in Virginia now. Combined with the fact that Zain’s own younger sister was in Europe celebrating her college graduation, Zain was glad to have Abby back, even for this short time. He would never admit it, but he missed the two girls.

“Abby? Is there any reason you’re carrying a sniper rifle?” Zain asked as he noticed the rifle slung over her shoulder. Given that her father was Ahmed Mueez, the biggest badass soldier Rahmi had ever seen, and her mother was Bridget, who was no slouch on the soldier front either, Zain guessed it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.

“I just finished getting some long-range practice in with Mom and Dad.”

“Ah, family bonding at its best,” Zain smirked.

Abby punched his shoulder. He didn’t move but had to bite back the grunt. Abby had never hit like a girl. In fact, she had taken it as her personal mission ever since she was four years old to do whatever the boys did, just better.

“I got a call from Veronica. I guess she’s desperate. She needed me to race over here for some favor. Speak of the devil,” Abby grinned as Veronica stepped out the front door of the mansion at Desert Farm. Not only was it Zain’s parents’ home, it also housed their offices. “You rang, Madame?”

Veronica rolled her exquisite blue eyes. Her perfect, sun-bleached blond hair was pulled back into a bun. Her makeup was flawless and her lips bright red. The white Oxford shirt was cut to display her figure and the black pencil skirt made men stop in their tracks. But Zain knew better. Veronica only cared if Abby stopped in her tracks. It was too bad, too. Abby didn’t play in that field. She didn’t even play in that stadium.

“I need you,” Veronica said before blushing, “to pick up someone at the airport,” she finished quickly.

“Sure, I can do that. When?” Abby said as she pulled her ponytail holder from her hair and shook out her dark locks.

Veronica cringed. “Now?”

“Now?” Abby cried. “I’m a mess.”

“I think you look wonderful,” Veronica said. “Besides, you’re just picking up an interpreter and taking her to the bed and breakfast. Mila Thiessen is her name.”

“Fine,” Abby sighed. “Zain, can I borrow your car?”

“Sure.” Zain reached into his pocket and tossed her the keys to his SUV. With a huff, Abby turned and strode toward the garage.

“You know she has no clue you’re a lesbian, right?” Zain asked his assistant as they both stared after Abby.

“I don’t know how not. Everyone else does. But it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate an attractive woman, and there is no one as attractive as Abby. I still think you’re stupid for keeping that in Friendsville. Either that, or maybe Little Zain doesn’t work?”

Zain coughed in surprise. “Little Zain works just fine, thank you. But he's not for Abby. First, Ahmed would cut Little Zain off. Second, just no. She’s a sister to me. You know that.”

“Your loss. So back to business. This is the last interpreter we need. Everything else is taken care of and on track for Monday. Your welcome speech and itinerary has been sent off to each attendee. Your parents will arrive tomorrow and will only be around if you need them. Otherwise, they promised to stay out of the way.”

Zain looked skeptically at Veronica. “Have you ever known my mom to stay out of anything?”

Veronica shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything.”

Tires squealed and dirt billowed as a silver Aston Martin flew down the farm’s lane. “I swear I gave Abby the keys to the SUV. I’ll be so pissed if she hotwired my sports car,” Zain groaned as the silver dot of a car disappeared down the road. “Now, let’s practice my speech and my talking points before I meet up with my friends for dinner.”

*     *     *

Mila stepped off the plane to pictures of horses lining the airport wall. She followed the other passengers as they headed down the escalator toward baggage claim. There weren’t many people in the airport, and it was easy to see that no one was waiting for her in the baggage claim. She stood looking around for her driver as the buzzer sounded for the luggage.

People began grabbing their bags and heading out the sliding glass doors, yet Mila stood waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Lost luggage days before one of the biggest jobs of her life. Could this get any worse?

Mila filed her claim with the airline and stepped outside to find a cab. There were none. Not a single cab lined-up waiting for a fare. Instead there were plenty of trucks and an astonishing sports car with a woman leaning against the door. Mila blinked; this girl looked familiar. The woman lowered her aviator sunglasses and Mila knew exactly who it was by the shocking blue eyes—Abigail Mueez.

“Are you Mila?” Abigail called out.

“Sure am,” Mila said as she hiked her computer bag and purse over her shoulder.

“I’m Abigail—”

“Mueez. Yes, I know.”

Mila saw her blue eyes maintain a steady gaze, but her mouth crinkled with a smile.

“Glad to see I’ve earned a reputation. Where are your bags?”

Mila let out a long breath. “Lost.”

“Bummer. I can hook you up until they find your clothes.” Abby opened the door to the Aston Martin and walked around to the driver’s door.

“This is your car?” Mila asked without bothering to hide her envy.

“I wish. I borrowed Zain’s.”

Of course she did. If Mila was Zain’s girlfriend, she’d drive this car every chance she got, too. Mila turned to place her computer bag behind her seat and froze. There was a massive gun lying there. Crap. She had been right. The town was dangerous.

“You know it’s illegal to have a firearm at an airport, right?” Mila asked slowly as she placed her hand on the door handle in case she needed to make a quick escape.

Abby shrugged. “No biggie. I know people. Just shove that out of the way. It’s not loaded,” Abby said casually as she pushed the gun farther back to make room for Mila’s computer bag.

“Is Keeneston dangerous?”

Abby laughed. “Keeneston? Dangerous? Yeah, right.”

Mila didn’t have a chance to ask more questions. She gripped the door as Abby zoomed along the curving country roads. It had only taken minutes for the city of Lexington to transition into rolling hills of farmland. They flew by horses and cows as Abby navigated her way through the countryside.

“Here we are,” Abby smiled as a small town appeared. “This is Main Street.”

It looked just like the picture. Old buildings with multiple storefronts, separated by a few narrow alleyways, lined the street. They were painted soft shades of tan, yellow, gray, blue, and red. Flowers overflowed in pots, hanging from the light posts, and people kept on waving at them.

“I bet you get a lot of attention in a small town with a car like this. They’re all waving at you,” Mila said as they passed another friendly face.

“It’s not the car. It's just Keeneston. I grew up here. I know everyone. They’re just saying
hi.
  Abby turned down the only other street Mila saw in the town. “This is Maple Street. It’s where you will be staying. It’s just a short walk to the Blossom Café, the best and only food around. Starting on Monday, they will be running a car service from there as well. That’s where you will go to catch a ride out to the farm.”

“Can’t I just call a taxi?” Mila asked as they came to a stop in front of a beautiful, old white Victorian house surrounded with roses and a large porch.

Abby laughed again. “We don’t have any taxis in Keeneston. A bunch of volunteers will be driving for people here for the summit. And let me give you some advice: if my brother Kale offers to drive you, suddenly decide to do anything else. He may be smarter than anyone in town when it comes to computers, but he’s a horrible driver. And don’t get me started on the twins, Porter and Parker. Now, this is where you and the rest of the interpreters and some staff are staying.”

“It’s beautiful,” Mila said as she took in the grand old house.

“Poppy Meadows runs the place for Miss Lily. The Rose sisters are something of an institution. You’ll meet them soon, I’m sure. You better hurry and check in, though. In a couple of minutes, Poppy is going to have to get to the café to help her sister, Zinnia, with the dinner rush. That’s where I want you to come in about an hour, and I’ll get you hooked up with some clothes. What size are you?”

“I’m a ten, much bigger than you.”

“No worries. See you soon and welcome to Keeneston.”

“Welcome to Keeneston!” the short, curvy reddish blond woman said with a smile as Mila walked inside the bed and breakfast. “Are you Ms. Thiessen?”

Mila nodded.

“Welcome! I’m Poppy. Where’s your luggage, hon?”

“Lost, but Abby said something about borrowing her clothes. I would rather go to the mall. Is there one nearby?”

“A mall? Goodness no, but if Abby said she’ll help you out, she will. Well now, let me take you to your room and you can freshen up. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are served at the Blossom Café. We will have muffins and fruit here if you want a lighter meal.”

Poppy chattered on happily as they began to climb the sweeping staircase. “On this floor is where the interpreters and staff from Surman, Tahjad, and France are staying.” Poppy pointed out rooms cheerfully as they continued to climb. “And this floor has interpreters from India, Saudi Arabia, and some ladies from the Philippines.”

Mila had to suck in a deep breath as the stairs had transitioned from sweeping, to regular, and now to a small winding metal staircase against the back wall. “Where exactly is my room?”

Poppy tried to smile energetically, but there was a slight look of guilt on her face as she started climbing around the spiral metal staircase. “Well, we are kind of out of normal rooms. We are in the process of renovating the attic. Don’t worry, though, it’s lovely!”

Mila finally staggered up the final flight of stairs and stepped onto the floor. She looked at the large open space. If she hadn’t just walked up three flights, she would have sworn she was in hell. It was hot and humid and the only light came from two small windows on either side of the long room. From where she stood in the middle of the attic, she could see a massive antique bed placed against a newly constructed wall, which ran the length of the attic. The bed, while lovely, balanced on spindle legs that looked as if they could break in half at any second. A chest was opposite the bed against another freshly constructed wall.

A pretty sky-blue curtain hung on the small square window.An antique rug filled the space under the bed all the way to the chest. A matching runner led from the stairs in the middle of the room to the other rug. Mila turned and took at the other half of the attic. The room really was massive. It ran the length of the entire house. On the other side was a bathroom. She knew that since there were no walls. A toilet and a white claw-foot tub positioned under the window with a sink were the only items on the other side of the attic.

“I know it’s hot, but with the windows up and the fans running…” Poppy hurried over and turned on a box fan in the bathroom and then three box fans in various locations surrounding the bedroom. “It’s really very lovely. We were hoping to put two bedrooms up here for my sister and me. That way we could open up the downstairs rooms to guests.”

The woman was so sweet and obviously worried that Mila might freak out at any minute. “It’s wonderful. It will be a grand suite when it’s done.”

Poppy beamed as she looked lovingly at the space. “I think so, too. Well, my cell number is on the chest. If you need me, don’t hesitate to call. Oh, and to get to the café, just turn left out the door and head to Main Street, then turn left again. We’re having BLTs and country-fried steak tonight. You won’t be able to miss us.”

Poppy took a couple of steps down and looked up at the open hole in the floor. “This is how you close it. You can use your key to lock it.” Poppy’s smiling face disappeared as she pulled a wooden slat across the top of the stairs. Sure enough, a deadbolt was now on the floor that Mila could turn.

Mila headed for the bed and dropped her purse at the side of the bed before falling across the surprisingly comfortable mattress. She looked up at the exposed beams of the ceiling and sighed. This was not how she envisioned her first time interpreting for the chancellor. Stuck in an attic, probably with ghosts, and no change of clothes.

Determined to make the best of things, Mila rolled over onto her stomach and looked out the window at an enormous tree and a pretty house beyond that. Mila pushed herself off the bed and opened the window. The tree branches were thick and old and came right up to her window. They also provided much-needed shade. The air that blew in smelled of the countryside and was cooler than she expected.

With a sigh, Mila headed for the bathroom to open that window and to freshen up before heading to the café. Some field research for the chancellor was in order, along with trying to find some clothes.