Face Value (Next Generation 7) Read online

  Face Value

  Book Seven in the Nashville Nights Next Generation Series

  Cheryl Douglas

  Copyright © by Cheryl Douglas

  Smashwords Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, including photocopying, graphic, electronic, mechanical, taping, recording, sharing, or by any information retrieval system without the express written permission of the author and / or publisher. Exceptions include brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Persons, places and other entities represented in this book are deemed to be fictitious. They are not intended to represent actual places or entities currently or previously in existence or any person living or dead. This work is the product of the author’s imagination.

  Any and all inquiries to the author of this book should be directed to: [email protected]

  Face Value © 2013 Cheryl Douglas

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  Nashville Nights Family Tree

  The Turners

  Trey and Sierra Turner - Nashville Nights, Book One, Shameless

  Jared and Elaine Turner - Trey’s parents

  Alisa Turner - Next Generation, Book One, High Stakes

  The Coopers

  Josh and Lexi Cooper - Nashville Nights, Book Two, Fearless

  Jay and Victoria - Josh and Ashley’s son and daughter-in-law / Nashville Nights, Book Seven, Hopeless

  Mike and Tori Cooper - Josh and Ashley’s son and daughter-in-law / Nashville Nights, Book Eight, Careless

  Aiden Cooper – Josh and Lexi’s son / Next Generation, Book Two, Trade Off

  Brianna Cooper – Josh and Lexi’s daughter / Next Generation, Book Three, Game On

  Ava Cooper – Jay and Victoria’s daughter / Next Generation, Book Eight, Blown Away

  The Spencers

  Luc and Marisa Spencer – Nashville Nights, Book Three, Ruthless

  Nikki Spencer – Luc’s daughter / Nashville Nights, Book Five, Relentless

  Ryan Spencer – Luc and Marisa’s son / Next Generation, Book Three, Game On

  Evan Spencer – Luc and Marisa’s son / Next Generation, Book Four, Burn Out

  The McCalls

  Ty and Avery McCall – Nashville Nights, Book Four, Reckless

  Anna McCall – Ty and Avery’s daughter / Next Generation, Book Five, Fast Track

  Nick McCall – Ty and Avery’s son / Next Generation, Book Six, Time Out

  J.T. McCall – J.T. and Derek’s brother / Nashville Nights, Book Five, Relentless

  Nikki Spencer – McCall – J.T.’s wife / Nashville Nights, Book Five, Relentless

  Lauren McCall - J.T. and Nikki’s daughter / Next Generation, Book Seven, Face Value

  Derek McCall – J.T. and Derek’s brother / Nashville Nights, Book Six, Heartless

  Ashley McCall – Derek’s wife, Jay and Mike Cooper’s mother / Nashville Nights, Book Six, Heartless

  Book Seven –Face Value

  Real estate developer, Lauren McCall, needs a new contractor yesterday. Someone who’s good, fast, and reliable, but her only option seems to be her friend’s deadbeat ex-husband. According to her friend, he’s a skirt chasing, beer drinking, loser who’d rather play pool than play with his kids, but desperate times call for desperate measures, so Lauren gives him the job. She just hopes she doesn’t live to regret it.

  Tucker Brooks knows his new boss doesn’t like him, and he doesn’t much care. He knows his ex-wife will spew her venom to anyone who’ll listen, and if Lauren’s naïve enough to believe everything she hears, so be it. He’s determined to show up for work, get the job done, and avoid the boss lady as much as possible. If only she’d stay the hell out of his dreams.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Coming Soon

  Chapter One

  “That hothead will be back in jail inside a year.”

  Lauren McCall nodded and smiled, pretending to be engrossed in everything her nail technician, Amanda, said. She’d heard the same story a hundred times before. Amanda’s ex-husband and the father of her two children was a loser. Yadayadayada.

  Lauren had her own problems: a house not even close to completion, a closing date looming, and a contractor with a broken arm. She didn’t know why she was getting her nails done instead of beating the streets, looking for a new crew hungry for work. But she seemed to have exhausted all of her options.

  “Hey, you okay?” Amanda asked. “You’re not very talkative today.”

  That meant Lauren must have missed her cue to roll her eyes at the ex’s latest stunt. Lauren had gone to that spa every other week for five years, and Amanda had been doing her nails for the past four. Lauren had learned how to keep her happy. She just had endure the trash talk long enough for her French manicure to dry.

  “Problems at work.”

  Lauren’s company specialized in restoring old properties. Many she kept and added to her investment portfolio, but others, like the one she was working on, she re-sold to avid buyers who still appreciated fine craftsmanship. Lauren had been in the business long enough to know she had to expect the worst and prepare for potential catastrophes on every job.

  Amanda slid Lauren’s hand under the dryer. “What is it this time?”

  “The contractor broke his arm on the job yesterday. When his crew heard he was out of commission for the next several weeks, they bailed.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “He’s the only one who can do the work we need on the built-ins and cabinets. Without that, the project is at a standstill.”

  “Huh.” Amanda blew her blond bangs out of her eyes. “Maybe you should give Tucker a call. See if he can do it.”

  “Tucker?” Lauren laughed. “You mean your dead-beat ex?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought you hated him.”

  “I do.” Amanda set Lauren’s other hand under the dryer and cleaned her workstation.

  “So, why would you want me to hire him?” Based on everything Amanda had said, Lauren would hang drywall herself before she’d consider hiring him.

  “Maybe then he’d pay his alimony on time.”

  Of course. Amanda wouldn’t have suggested it unless there was something in it for her. She was a tad self-absorbed, to say the least. “I don’t think so.”

  Amanda dipped her brushes in nail polish remover and wiped them on a paper towel before setting them back in their appointed slot. She kept talking as though Lauren hadn’t said a word. “He always makes the child support payments on time, but when it comes to the alimony, he’ll hold out as long as he can. Until I threaten to take him to court. If there’s one place that man never wants to see again, it’s the ins
ide of a courthouse.”

  Lauren couldn’t blame him. He’d been sentenced to eighteen months for aggravated assault on one of Amanda’s boyfriends. According to Amanda, Tucker was jealous she was moving on with her life and actively seeking a new father for her kids. Lauren didn’t think it was her place to point out that the kids already had a devoted father.

  “He doesn’t seem like a good fit, Amanda. I need someone reliable. This house is already sold firm, but a clause in the contract states if I don’t have the house ready on time, I have to pay the buyers $2,500 every week it’s past due. The profit margins are already slim because we had to re-do the electrical and replace the copper piping.”

  Amanda used a cotton swab to remove a trace of white nail polish from her finger. “Oh, Tucker’s dependable when it comes to his work. It’s his personal life that’s a mess.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Did I tell you he’s seeing Tonya?”

  Tonya was one of the hair stylists at the upscale salon next door.

  “Really? How old is he?” The girl was young, maybe twenty-three.

  “Thirty-eight! Can you believe that?”

  “Oh well, what are you gonna do? The man’s free to date whoever he wants, right?” Lauren withdrew her hands when the timed dryer shut off, hoping she would be set free. No such luck. Amanda turned it on for another three minutes without checking her nails.

  Amanda sneered. “He thought he was free to date whoever the hell he wanted while we were married. He went out for beers every night after work with his crew. Like I didn’t know what was going on. My girlfriend, Stacey, waits tables at Jimmy’s, and she said he used to dance with every girl in the place before they shut it down.”

  Stacey had worked for Lauren’s father at his bar, Jimmy’s, for the past eight years, and she’d earned her reputation as a gossipmonger. Nothing happened in that bar without her knowing about it. “You can’t believe everything you hear, Amanda.” Lauren suspected it was true though. Stacey prided herself on getting the facts straight.

  “When it comes to him, I can. I’ve learned one thing about that man over the years: when in doubt, believe the worst.”

  The dryer turned off again, and Lauren reached for her purse before Amanda could stall her for another three minutes. She really was a nice girl, but Lauren couldn’t spare any more time. “I’ll never understand why you married that guy.”

  “He’s gorgeous.”

  As if that was reason enough. Lauren had met lots of good-looking men who were all shine and no substance. She’d take a hard-working, honest, average-looking guy over a hot player any day.

  “And he has this thing about him…”

  “Yeah, he’s sexy as all get-out,” another one of the nail technicians said as she walked by. “I don’t care how bad you say he is, Amanda. That boy could park his dusty old boots under my bed anytime.”

  Amanda rolled her eyes. “You say that now, Ami. Six months in, you’d be wishing you never met him.”

  Ami laughed, a deep husky laugh she blamed on too many cigarettes. “Who said I’d keep him around that long? I just want to use him to satisfy all my naughty fantasies.”

  Amanda turned her swivel chair toward her co-worker. “You’ve been fantasizing about my ex?”

  Ami gestured toward the six other employees milling about the salon. “We all have.”

  Amanda blinked her bright green eyes. Once. Twice. Three times. “I don’t believe this. I thought y’all were my friends. Now I find out you were all hoping you’d be the next notch in my ex’s bedpost.” She straightened up and fixed them all with a glare. “Nice, real nice.”

  When none of the women stepped up to defend their position, Lauren decided the show was over and reached into her purse. She set Amanda’s fee and generous tip on the glass table. “Um, same day and time two weeks from now work for you, hon?”

  “Oh yeah, sure. Thanks, Lauren.” Amanda looked at the money. Reaching into her drawer, she slid a business card across the table. “If you really are desperate, you should call him.”

  Lauren looked at the business card. Tucker Brooks. Brooks Construction. His office was just down the street. She wondered if she should pay him a visit. She needed a new contractor yesterday, and if the man knew the difference between a screw and a nail, she may just have to hire him. “Thanks, Amanda. I’ll think about it.”

  “If you see Tucker, tell him we all say hi,” Ami said, laughing when Amanda shot her a fierce scowl.

  ***

  Tucker Brooks was working on his third cup of sludge when the main door to his office swung open. His assistant, Rosie, had stepped out to the post office, so he called out, “Back here.”

  He didn’t bother tearing his eyes away from his computer screen, assuming it was a courier with a package. “Just leave it on the front desk, buddy. Unless you need me to sign for it?”

  “Um, I don’t have a delivery.”

  Tucker looked up. He jerked his hand away from the keyboard and swore when he knocked his paper cup over, spilling coffee all over the plans spread out on his desk.

  Holy hell. He’d seen that girl at Jimmy’s dozens of times. She was the owner’s daughter. He’d never approached her because he knew she would never give him the time of day.

  He reached for a napkin. Fortunately, the cup had been almost empty, so the plans weren’t completely destroyed. “What can I do for you?”

  She watched him blot the coffee before she made eye contact. With her expensive suit, designer heels, and stylishly cut, platinum-blond hair, she screamed cover-girl sexy while his calloused hands, steel-toed boots, and ripped jeans bellowed blue collar.

  “Um, you’re Tucker?”

  “Yeah.” He crushed the napkin in his fist and tossed it into the wastebasket. “You’re J.T. McCall’s daughter, right?”

  Her perfectly arched brows lifted. “How did you know that?”

  “I’ve been going to Jimmy’s since I was old enough to get served. I’ve seen you around.”

  “Oh.” She clasped the chain hanging from her Gucci leather purse and cleared her throat. “I understand you’re a contractor?” She looked around at the stacks of books, plans, and materials littering every free surface in the office, including the lone guest chair.

  Tucker knew it was a mess, but he knew where everything was, so he preferred to think of it as organized chaos. “Why don’t you set those things aside and have a seat?” She probably expected him to do it, but he didn’t wait on anyone, not even gorgeous blondes.

  He’d been around the block enough times to know when someone looked down on him, and she clearly thought she was way out of his league. He was even more curious about her visit.

  “Um, I know your ex-wife,” she said, bending to move the stack of books off the guest chair.

  “That explains it,” Tucker mumbled. He couldn’t tear his eyes away when the front of her blouse gaped, giving him a sneak peek at the lace beneath it.

  She fixed him with a scowl when she caught him looking. “As I was saying…” She sat down and smoothed her black pencil skirt. “Amanda suggested I come and see you.”

  Tucker tipped his swivel chair back as he chewed on the end of a pencil. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Lauren.”

  His eyes drifted to her left hand. Hot damn. No ring. “What’s your last name, Lauren?”

  “McCall.”

  Perfect. Not married. “Go on, you were telling me the reason you stopped by.” He fixed her with an intense stare, barely suppressing a smile when she shifted in her seat.

  “I… uh… need a contractor.”

  Tucker grinned. “Then you’ve come to the right place.”

  Her mouth fell open.

  He frowned at her look of surprise. “Is there a problem?”

  “Um, no.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, my mind drifted for a minute there. I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

  He leaned forward, clasping his hands on the desk.
r />   Her eyes traveled up his forearm, beneath the rolled up sleeves of his worn denim shirt.

  “What’s wrong? You don’t like tattoos?” Not that he cared. If a woman didn’t like ink, she could look for a man without any.

  “Oh, no… I mean, yes.” She shook her head again. “I mean, it doesn’t matter to me whether you have tattoos.”

  He chuckled as he sat back in his chair again. She was cute when she squirmed. It made him wonder what she’d look like writhing beneath him. “Good to know.” He checked the time on his computer. “Look, I’d love to sit around here all day, but I’ve got to get out to one of my sites and check on my crew.”

  “Right, I’ll get to the point.” Her cell phone buzzed, and she withdrew it from her purse. “I’m sorry, just give me a minute.” After checking her screen, she let the call go to voice mail. “I’m working on a rehab. The house is over a hundred years old. We’ve run into a lot of problems. We’re already behind schedule and over budget-”

  “Sounds like a dream job,” he muttered. The last thing he needed was a half-baked project with no budget and a tight timeline. He already had jobs lined up for the next six months. He couldn’t squeeze hers in even if he wanted to.

  “It’s a lovely house,” she said, sounding defensive. “And we’re getting so close.”

  She licked her full lower lip on the last words, and Tucker felt his jeans get tighter. He knew better than to let a pretty little thing get to him by batting her eyelashes, but he did have a thing for damsels in distress. He sighed. “Why don’t you give me the address? I’ll stop by after work and check it out.”

  “Thank you.” She rewarded him with a smile that made his jeans downright uncomfortable. She reached into her purse for a business card and pulled a pencil out of the holder on his desk.