Page 3 of A Case of Extreme Mistaken Identity

“Stop that. You go back to your lounge chair. You just had surgery, for heaven’s sake.” She reached for the wrench, but Austin whisked it behind his back.

“Not just. Two weeks ago. I’m going stir crazy, ma’am. I need something to do, or I’m going to die of boredom. You don’t want my death on your conscience, do you?”

Kay frowned at him. “You really know how to fix it?”

“Yes.”

“And it will only take a second?”

“Yes.”

“All right, fine. But I’m paying you for it. And then you’re going back to relaxing and recovering. The last thing I need is to have the famous Austin Scott reinjure his knee on my resort, making itmyfault that he can’t return to play for the Los Angeles Demons.” Kay made a face, and Austin laughed.

“All right. I promise to go back to pretending to be a lump on a log after I get Mrs. Fleming’s faucet all fixed up.”

“You’d better.” She frowned. “You know, most people would love a nice, relaxing, three-week vacation.”

“Would they like that relaxing vacation alone, with a bum knee so they couldn’t go anywhere or do anything?”

Kay slowly nodded. “Yeah, all right. I get it. Go fix the faucet. You can return the wrench to me at the front desk.” She lowered her voice. “But don’t tell anyone I made Austin Scott fix my sink. I’d be mortified.”

He chuckled. “My lips are sealed.” He headed down the path, feeling like a pirate with a peg leg.

A woman emerged from one of the rooms. She had on enormous sunglasses and a large, floppy hat. It was almost comical. She obviously didn’t want anyone to recognize her. Probably some famous socialite trying to get a break from publicity. He understood the feeling.

She glanced behind her, then hurried down the path toward Austin, holding her hat in place. As she walked, she kept looking behind her. He wondered who she was trying to avoid. Unfortunately, as she neared, he could tell she hadn’t seen him. And one more glance behind her was all it took for her to run smack into his chest.

The woman bounced off him, fell backward, and landed on her behind. Her hat flew off and caught a gust of wind. “Oh!” she called out as her hat flew high into the air.

“I’m sorry,” Austin said, reaching up and snatching the hat back. “I hope you didn’t get hurt.”

The woman looked up at him, and even with her sunglasses on, he could tell she’d been crying. He could see the dried tear tracks down her cheeks. She took the hat from him but didn’t stand. He bent to offer help. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and took his hand, letting him hoist her up. “Yeah,” she said, brushing herself off. “Sorry. I didn’t see you.”

“That’s okay.” He was curious why she’d been upset, but didn’t want to be creepy or stalkerish by saying, “Hey, I noticed you were crying. Is everything okay in your life?” So instead, he just held up the wrench. “I’m on my way to 303 to fix a faucet.”

He cringed. She didn’t care about that. Why was he rambling?

The woman pointed behind her. “It’s that way.” She hesitated. “Are you new here?”

New here? He wasn’t sure what she was asking. He’d been there for two weeks. And this wasn’t his first visit to the resort. “No.”

She took off the sunglasses, and he immediately recognized her. Danica Jordan. And socialite was an understatement. She was always in the news for her wild behavior and massive money-spending habits. He stepped back, surprised to see her in such a state. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and she had no makeup on. What in the world had happened to her?

She bit her lower lip. “Who would I talk to about getting a job here? I’m kind of desperate.”

He couldn’t have been more shocked if she had said, “Please hold my hat, I need to take off my head and see if I have any brains left.”

His mouth opened and closed a few times. “Kay, the owner,” he finally managed to say.

Danica nodded, her large eyes blinking back moisture. “Okay. Thank you. I’m so glad I ran into a maintenance worker. You’ve been very helpful.”

Maintenance worker? Austin almost laughed. This woman wasn’t into football, apparently. He almost corrected her, but Danica had already slid her sunglasses back into place and replaced her large, floppy hat. “Thanks,” she said as she rushed past him.

Austin watched as one of the richest women in the world hurried off to beg for a job. It was the most bizarre thing. What could have happened to Danica Jordan to make her desperate to get a job?

And what in the world kind of job could she do? He was sure Kay had no openings for “Selfie-taker.”

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