His mouth turned down into a familiar frown, but this one didn’t have hatred or disgust behind it. “Uh oh, why do you ask that like my last name tastes nasty? Please tell me you haven’t dated JP.”
“Do you Bensons own every freakin’ business in town?” she mumbled.
Oh, for crying out loud. Did she really just ask the man that? So much for not shoving her foot in her mouth, boot and all.
Except instead of taking offense to the insult, he let out an infectious, boisterous laugh. “Feels like it sometimes. You’ve met some of my siblings, I take it?”
Chuckling along with him, she nodded. “Yes. I’ve met Ronnie, JP, and Keith. I’m Michaela Hudson, your new neighbor, unless you don’t live with the others. Then I’m just their neighbor.”
She internally rolled her eyes. Why did this family make her stumble over her words like a bumbling idiot?
“Oh, no shit? You’re the one who moved in last week? The one who Keith—oh.” His smile turned impish. “You’ve made quite an impression on my brother.”
She grimaced. “Yeah, I’m not his favorite person.” Understatement of the year. At some point, they were going to have to make nice. They lived too close and she liked the rest of his family too much to avoid contact with him.
The door closed behind them, leaving them standing in the lobby with a receptionist eyeing them from behind a desk.
She wrung her hands. Just the mention of Keith had thrown her off her game. Before rehab, she could talk to anyone about anything no matter the circumstances. She’d done countless interviews where she spoke eloquently on any topic and answered difficult, sometimes absurd questions on the fly. Her publicist had seen to it with hundreds of hours of coaching. Now, one mention of a man who didn’t like her, and she could barely string two words together without making a fool of herself. Had sobriety stolen her personality?
His receptionist wasn’t even pretending to mind her own business. She stared at them with rapt attention. Michaela could hear her brain whirring.
What did she do to Keith?
Who is she?
Jagger must have noticed as well, because he placed a large hand on her lower back and nudged her toward an open door left of the reception desk. “Here, come on in my office, and we’ll chat about your vision for the house. Rachel, hold my calls until we’re done.”
The receptionist nodded. “You know, you look familiar,” she said, gaze on Mickie’s face.
With a nervous laugh, Mickie tried to keep from vomiting. “Huh, I don’t think we’ve met before.”
“No, it’s not that.” Rachel studied her for a moment longer then snapped her fingers. “I know it! You’re probably gonna think I’m crazy, but you look a little like that actress, Scarlett. You know, the one who had the huge meltdown and disappeared off the face of the planet.”
Michaela couldn’t breathe, let alone answer the woman. Everything inside her screamed at her to turn and flee, but that’d give her away for sure. Instead, she made a squeaking noise she hoped sounded like one of disagreement.
Jagger tilted his head. “What? You’re crazy, Rach. I don’t see it at all. Scarlett has super long bleached hair, weighs about seventy pounds, and has a totally different eye color. You’re way off base.”
With a chuckle, Rachel shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Don’t know what it was. Just a flash of familiarity or something.” She waved a hand in front of her face. “Ignore me. I’ll hold the calls, Jagger.”
Breathe.
With a nod for his receptionist, he said, “After you,” to Mickie.
“Thanks.” She followed the larger man into his office. Hopefully he didn’t notice the tremor in her voice and the way her hands shook.
“Have a seat. Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.”
A mess? The place was a downright disaster. File folders were scattered all over the top of the wooden desk in the center of the room. Three takeout coffee cups, which she hoped were empty, rested on the file folders. One poorly placed elbow would ruin a whole lotta work. Tools, samples of tile, cabinet doors, and a startling amount of sawdust littered the floor and every corner of the room.
Jagger laughed. “Okay fine, it’s more than a mess. You don’t have to look so frightened.”
Mickie jolted and took the seat he’d indicated on the opposite side of his desk. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.” At least the mess distracted her from the near freak out in the lobby.
Again, he laughed. “If you think that’s insulting, clearly you didn’t grow up with five of the most annoying siblings in the world.”
Mickie found herself smiling. His easy personality drew her in and set her at ease. “Guilty. Only child.”
“Ahh. Well, I’ll tell you this. Keith’s a good guy, but he’s…” Jagger scratched his chin as he turned and stared out a window to his right. Then he focused back on her.