GOOD
GRACIE
by
Ines Saint
Pub.
Date: 4/11/2017
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
Spinning
Hills, Ohio, home of the third most haunted street in the state, is
the perfect place for three sisters to banish the unhappy specters of
their pasts—and to let romance cast its spell . . .
Gracie
Piper is good at being invisible, and she likes it that way. At just
seventeen, she took a very public stand against the boy who passed a
revealing video of her all over school. Ever since, she’s staked
her life on staying out of the limelight. But when she moves back to
Spinning Hills, she comes face to face with her painful past. In the
same historic building Gracie’s boss has assigned her to supervise
renovating works the man who helped her find justice nine years ago,
and nearly lost his own career in the process. A man who suddenly
arouses feelings that make Gracie weak in the knees . . .
Josh
Goodwin is sure he’s seeing a ghost when he spots Gracie in the
halls of his office building. Taking her case was a professional risk
that became all too personal when a bitter ex accused him of getting
involved with teenage Gracie. Seeing her again is opening old wounds,
and threatening brand-new ones—his campaign for County Prosecutor
won’t withstand a brand-new scandal. But there’s something about
sweet, gorgeous Gracie that brings out the crusader in him—and the
thing he’ll fight hardest for is her love . . .
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Chapter 1
“We won the contract for the Daytona-Montgomery
County courts Building, and we want you to be the lead workplace
designer on the project.”
The words had been on a constant loop in Gracie’s
head. The first half of the sentence tugged her feelings one way and the second
half pulled them in the opposite direction. One tiny comma separated a
nightmare and a dream. One small word united them.
She’d been working hard to land lead on a project
of this magni- tude. She hoped to own her own small workplace design business
someday, and this would be an important learning experience. It was a challenge
that, when all else was pushed aside, had both her left and right brain in a
constant buzz of excitement and anticipation. Using both her creativity and
technical expertise to optimize and har- monize workspace for eleven judges,
the county prosecutor, and all court employees across multiple divisions, each
with its own purpose and challenges. Functional, yet attractive and sustainable
ideas that would enhance the life, productivity, and culture of the workers
came to her day and night.
But whenever her thoughts necessarily turned
to the actual build- ing in front of her, her stomach became heavy with dread.
The coin- cidence involved defied logic. The building was home to records of
her case against one of the area’s most prominent families—and to the man who’d
been her champion.
The man whose life she’d unwittingly changed
forever. All for taking up her case and her cause.
He didn’t resent her for it. That much she was
sure of. Josh Good- win had a fair and just core, the depth of which she hadn’t
fully appreciated and understood at the time. There had been no room for
anything but gratitude that someone outside her family was fighting with and
for her. But there was no way he could remember the experience with anything
but the same dread she felt. Not after the way he’d been portrayed and
everything he’d lost . . .
Tomorrow she had no choice but to take on both
the project and the memories. Tonight, she’d take the first step on her own,
with no one watching her.
Josh Goodwin sat at his desk, reading through
incident reports and files the sheriff’s office had sent over, and making notes
to re- quest additional information before making decisions as to whether
they’d file, dismiss, or bargain.
A fourteen-year-old had brought a gun to
school and hidden it in his locker. The file was short. Many questions arose
and he made notes.
The next file was thicker. A sixteen-year-old
star athlete had been caught with drugs in his car. He had a big-shot lawyer at
Josh’s father’s firm. The lawyer had filed a motion to have the case dismissed
. . . which meant that dinner with his parents’ later that week would be un-
comfortable. It took discipline not to close his eyes and shake his head when
he read the particulars of the case, but reserving judgment until he’d listened
to all parties involved was the fair route.
The last file, an ongoing investigation,
darkened his day. A well- known, local businessman’s son was being investigated
for murdering his stepmom. There was evidence to suggest the boy’s father had
put him up to it when he’d discovered his wife was having an affair. Time and
time again, jealousy and feelings of betrayal enraged and darkened the human
mind and heart, turning people into monsters. The evidence against the father,
Max Parker, was strong, but it was circumstantial. Josh had taken it on because
he had a special passion for cases involving injustice to minors—those were the
cases
he’d cut his teeth on.
He leaned back, shut down his feelings, and
thought about every- thing in each file before making a few more notes. When he
was done, he threw his sports coat over his arm, locked up his office, and made
his way down to the first-floor lobby. He needed to decide where exactly he’d
be holding his press conference tomorrow.
When he walked off the elevator, a motion to
his right caught his attention. He glanced over and caught sight of a figure
taking off at a run. Security in the building was tight enough, but the fact
that someone was running down a hallway at such a late hour was odd. Josh
sighed and decided to follow.
When he got to the short hallway, there was no
one there. He walked slowly, taking everything in. There were three doors and
they were all shut, as they should be. He peered into each window and tried the
handles one by one. They were all dark and they were all locked.
Only one door remained: a supply closet at the
end of the hall- way. Aware that his dress shoes were clicking, Josh walked
back to the elevator, slipped his shoes off, and made his way quietly back down
the hallway and to the closet again.
“I know you’re there.” A muffled, female voice
came from inside the closet a few seconds later. “And I know you think I’m up
to no good and that you have some sort of moral responsibility to figure out
what I’m up to, but I assure you I’m here to work. Please just leave.”
Josh rolled his eyes heavenward. Seriously?
Only a teenager would ask an adult to take her word for something and leave her
alone. And yet the words had been very adultlike. “I can’t leave until you show
yourself and tell me exactly who you are and what you’re doing here.”
“Can we find a way for you to put your mind at
ease that doesn’t involve me opening the door?”
Josh raked a hand through his hair. He’d been
in plenty of un- usual situations. It came with the job. But this—this was new.
And absurd. It had to be a teen, and maybe the teen was in trouble. “Why don’t
you want to come out?”
“I’m busy.”
“Are you one of our courthouse ghosts?” he
asked. Humor some- times did the trick with kids.
Silence. “Yes.”
It was a pitiful and honest yes. Josh was
silent for a moment, too. Whoever was behind the door had something to hide,
but he’d bet his career she wasn’t a menace. Still, it was his duty to get to
the bottom of whatever was going on. Some leader he would be if he simply left.
“Look, there’s no lock on this door. Nothing has prevented me from opening it.
I’ve been trying to give you a chance, and I hope that shows you that you have
nothing to fear from me. But it’s my responsibility to open this door and find
out what’s going on.”
The door abruptly swung open and Josh
instinctively moved to the side. He peered in and went cold all over. All he
could do was stare.
It was a ghost.
As much as she’d done to change her
appearance, Gracie knew he instantly recognized her. Everything about him
registered shock. It was as if he was frozen in place. She swallowed hard but
was unable to get past the lump in her throat. He looked exactly the way she
re- membered him—spiky and mussed-up brown hair, sparkling dark eyes, and a
handsome face. Tall. An athletic build that filled out his fitted suit. He
looked the same, but her reaction was new. A jolt of heat infused her from head
to toe the instant she looked at him. Embarrassment, most likely.
She hesitated before saying, “Hello, Mr.
Goodwin.” The title Mr. sounded strange to her ears. He looked almost her age,
though she knew he was a little over seven years older.
He’d been twenty-four and she’d been seventeen
when they’d first met nine years ago. He, fresh out of law school. She, a high
school senior.
“Gracie Piper.”
She pushed her glasses up and avoided his
eyes. “Actually, I go by Grace Dearborn now.” It was imperative they got that
straight.
She forced herself to glance at him again.
He’d straightened, but he was still staring. “What are you doing hiding in a
closet?” he finally asked.
Something in her bristled. Not at him but at
herself. She hadn’t been prepared to see him, but it wouldn’t do to start off
on unequal footing. She was twenty-six. She was a professional. And she’d been
caught hiding in a closet.
Pushing past her reluctance to speak, she took
a quick, deep breath and gathered her wits to start afresh. “Surely you’re
aware of the extensive remodeling project that will begin here in three months?
The firm I work for, Midwest Workplace Design, is in charge, and I’m the lead
workplace designer.” She turned and pretended to study the closet. “I’m—I’m
checking everything out. Including the closets.” “Workplace designer, huh,” he
stated with a short nod. “Creative yet logical. It fits. I wondered how you’d
find something that utilized all your talents.” Not yet ready to face Josh’s
intrinsic kindness, she merely shrugged a little. “And you’ve been checking out
the supply closet this entire time?” he continued.
When she chanced another glance at him, he was
wearing a play- ful smile. Another thunderbolt hit her, and this time it left
her breath- less. That was new, too. And it hadn’t been embarrassment. Fear,
maybe? No, she could never fear Josh. . . .
She straightened her shoulders, hoping to look
confident. “There’s a lot to consider. People don’t want to waste valuable time
when they come in here looking for supplies. Organization should be logical.
The most-often-used necessities should be easiest to both find and access,
preferably at eye level . . .” she went on, repeating things she’d heard a
closet organizer they worked with say, before finally trailing off and clearing
her throat.
Everything she was feeling was awareness, she
admitted with a sinking feeling. Something she hadn’t felt in years but she
remem- bered well. For her, it would forever be entwined with deep, devas-
tating feelings of betrayal and distrust. Their eyes met and she took a step
back. He must’ve noted it because his smile faltered and he took a step back,
too. “You can come out, Gracie.”
Correcting him once more didn’t feel as
important as it usually did. Gracie sounded okay coming from him. The way it
still sounded good coming from family. Josh Goodwin had been honorable. One of
the few men she knew she could trust, even though she hadn’t seen him in years.
Maybe that was what her awareness was about. Eternal feelings of gratitude.
Plus, seeing him again was unsettling, though not unexpected. But as her
internal reasoning rambled on, her still-sinking stomach told her that wasn’t
all there was to it.
It was all too much for her to try to figure
out right there and then. She stepped out and caught the quick, up-and-down
glance he gave her, and it made her take stock of what she looked like. Pale
blond hair done up in a stylish yet no-nonsense bun. Olive pencil skirt.
Low-heeled, knee-high boots. Off-white, fashionably bulky sweater.
Peach-colored frames on her trendy glasses. Nude makeup. Fashion- able enough
to look like she could fit the creative role she played, but nondescript enough
to fade away and not draw attention.
“Who are you hiding from, Gracie?” he asked,
looking straight into her eyes. There was warmth there. And she couldn’t handle
it.
“I’m hiding from disruptions,” she answered
and began walking down the hallway ahead of him, a mistake that left her
feeling awkward and exposed. “I’m taking everything in. Silence and stillness
is a must. Tomorrow my team and I will start observing everyone at work and
begin asking questions so we can incorporate everyone’s needs into the design.
Tonight, I needed to be alone.” She came to a stop at the end of the hallway
and cast him a quick, over-the-shoulder glance, to see if he’d caught the small
hint. It was obvious he had, but there was now pity in his eyes. Her cheeks
heated up.
Josh set down his briefcase while he shrugged
into his light coat. She was dismissing him and it was just as well. They were
both un- comfortable.
Gracie, on the eve of his announcement. It was
a worst-case sce- nario. The case that had defined his career had also almost
derailed it, thanks to the lies and vitriol of both the people Gracie had been
up against and the important people Josh had defied: a group he had once
belonged to. It always brought up mixed feelings. Gratitude that he’d been
saved from a meaningless life but also the sickening feel- ing that justice and
honesty didn’t always win.
When Gracie turned to him, he was again taken
aback by how much she’d changed—or rather, how much her experience must’ve
changed her. I’m hiding from disruptions . . .
A ghost of the girl she’d once been. She’d
even changed her last name. He picked up his briefcase again and stretched his
right arm out to shake her hand. “I don’t know what to say. It’s nice to meet
you, Grace Dearborn. We sorely need the renovations and updates your firm has
been hired to do. But I’d like to talk to Gracie Piper someday to find out how
she wound up where she is. I often wonder about her, you know.” And with that,
he turned and left.
Ines
Saint was
born in Zaragoza, Spain. She’s bilingual and bicultural and has
spent the last ten years raising her fun, inspiring little boys and
sharing her life with the man of her dreams, who also happens to be
her best friend and biggest cheerleader. Her greatest joys are
spending quality time with family and close friends.
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