Mr. Miracle. Carolyn McSparren
had no intention of using any of Mike’s money to subsidize ValleyCrest, but she took a certain amount of comfort in knowing that he had offered to bail them out if necessary.
As it was, he was paying for the renovation of the old family home and for some repainting and repair to the cottage.
For the first time in her life, Vic found herself with no one looking over her shoulder. She’d always considered herself to be tough-minded and independent, but in reality she’d been under her grandmother’s thumb, then under Frank’s, and then there were Albert and Liz and the clients and Lord knew who else. Sometimes she felt as though the entire world spent its time pulling on her, demanding her attention.
She couldn’t boss Albert or Liz. Actually, they usually did the bossing. She hated confrontations with either of them.
But Jamey worked for her.
Well, sort of.
She’d been in her room with the door shut when he returned from the barn last night, and had heard him mount the stairs to his bedroom. This morning he’d been gone before she got up. The man apparently didn’t require as much sleep as the average raccoon.
So far today she had not seen him—only the evidence of his presence. Morning chores were already complete. Amazing. He must be physically exhausted.
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