Talk Dirty to Me. Dakota Cassidy
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this should be your room for the remainder of your stay.” He held out his long, well-defined arms and embraced her. He tightened his grip, as if he knew a hug was in order.
She leaned back in his embrace so their eyes met, ruffling his thick thatch of midnight black hair with her fingers. “Yeah, about that, Sanjeev... Did Landon, that crazy prankster, say anything else about my stay?”
His smile beamed wide. “He said I was to cater to your every whim, keep you well-fed, well-rested, and make sure you didn’t spend wasted time mourning him.”
She gave him a look of admonishment, clucking her tongue. “Aw, come on, Sanjeev, you know what I mean, and it has nothing to do with your out-of-this-world lamb curry or your saffron rice or even your pillow fluffing skills. The phone-sex thing. You must’ve known.”
Sanjeev didn’t miss a beat, though an erratic pulse throbbed at the base of his neck. “Of course I knew. I was his assistant. I knew everything.”
Dixie tapped him on the shoulder with a chastising finger. “So you knew Caine would be here, too.” She didn’t ask.
His nod held no apology. “I did.”
“And a sneaky, late-night phone call, something along the lines of, ‘Hey, Dixie-Cup, that guy who stomped on your dreams of marital bliss like he was stomping out a campfire is going to stay in the big house with you while you call men naughty boys’ was totally out of the question?”
Sanjeev’s eyes twinkled. “First, I believe it was you who stomped first with that dreadful bet. And oh, no, it wasn’t out of the question.”
The bet. She never, ever wanted to talk about the bet. “But it was disloyal to Landon?” She sighed in understanding. “I can’t fault you for that, even if it wasn’t in my favor.”
His smile gleamed playfully. “As per Landon’s reminder, I was bound by the ‘I saved your life’ speech.”
Landon had found Sanjeev in the streets on one of his treks to India, dirty, infested with lice, homeless and alone at seventeen after he’d run away from an orphanage three years earlier. After living with Sanjeev for a year in India, Landon had acquired, via his multitude of connections, a visa for Sanjeev and brought him back to the States to live with him and manage the big house. That was eleven years ago, and never was there a better assistant to someone as whimsical and impulsive as Landon than Sanjeev.
Dixie rolled her eyes, knowing Landon would have cut off his right arm before he’d have sent Sanjeev back to India. “Well then, I hope you gave him the ‘If not for me, the big house would have collapsed by now, and Toe the Camel would have died of malnutrition’ speech,” she teased.
And it was true. Sanjeev ran the big house like a well-oiled machine. Nothing, not even the tiniest of details went unnoticed under Sanjeev’s watchful eyes.
“I will always remain loyal to his memory, but above all else, his last wishes. Though,” he said, cocking a raven eyebrow, “I did warn him, during the hatching of the conditions of this will, a war the likes of which no one in Plum Orchard had ever seen was bound to ensue.”
So Sanjeev knew the thought process behind Landon’s last wishes. Interesting. But it wasn’t the time to press. “And he said?” Dixie prompted, shrugging off her jacket and laying it across the bed.
“He said, and I quote, ‘I hope you videotape it and put it on YouTube because it’ll probably get a lot of hits and become the YT’s newest sensation,’” Sanjeev responded with his comical imitation of Landon’s accent.
Her head fell back on her shoulders as laughter, rich and free, spilled from her throat. It was so good to be where Landon’s presence was strong—where his memory still breathed life into every nook and cranny—even if, in his memory, he’d left her between a rock and a hard place.
“So he really has a phone-sex company?”
Sanjeev’s eyes were amused. “Indeed.”
“These women are in the guesthouse right now?”
“They are. It’s where Landon insisted they work.”
Dixie eyed him. “Did he give any thought to what will happen to these poor women when he decided to drop them in Plum Orchard? You know what they’re like here, Sanjeev. How they all gossip. It can ruin your life if you let it.” She knew. She’d stomped on a life or two in her time.
“He gave it great thought. Surely, you know Landon did nothing without care, Dixie. He consulted all of them, and they made the decision together to come here, knowing how judgmental this town can be. However, when you meet the ladies of Call Girls, you’ll understand why Landon left this earth at peace with his choice.”
“The Mags will find a way to make their lives miserable all while looking for a way to have this shut down, Sanjeev. Did Landon think about the fact they could lose their jobs?”
“Have you thought about the fact that Landon has greased many a wheel in his time here on earth and in Plum Orchard—or that he was as careful about picking his lawyers as he was his locations for phone-sex operations?”
Dixie gave a halfhearted laugh, rubbing her eyes. “Point in Landon’s favor.”
“You look tired, Dixie. And I don’t mean the kind of tired grief brings, or the kind a good night’s sleep will fix. I mean soul weary. This worries me.”
Ah, leave it to Sanjeev to look beyond the concealer under her eyes. “It’s been a long couple of years” was all she was willing to admit.
He tugged on a strand of her hair, his eyes concerned. “And in those long years, you forgot to freshen your roots? Who is this Dixie?”
This was the Dixie who was too focused on her goal to pay everyone back and didn’t have time or money to go to the hairdresser. She shrugged, casting her eyes down at her feet. “This Dixie was just caught up in other things.”
“Then this assistant will fetch you some henna before you become too much more caught up. Pronto,” he added with a wink.
Dixie kicked off her heels, sinking her bare feet into the Persian carpet. She leaned her shoulder against the canopy post to fold her hands in front of her. “I just can’t believe he’s gone,” she choked out. Those words would never sound right. “So what will you do next, Sanjeev? Will you go back to India? I imagine Landon left you plenty of money to return in style.”
Though Sanjeev leaving the big house and going back to his homeland left her heart as empty as a good bottle of wine after a long night of girl-talk, Dixie had always wondered if he yearned for the sights and smells of his native country. Much the way she’d longed for the comfort of her small town even with its irrefutable throwback to a simpler way of life, and its antiquated views on a woman’s place in the world.
Sanjeev’s eyes flashed momentary confusion. “I will do as I’ve always done. Maintain the big house and handle the multitude of charities Landon was involved in.”
She cocked her head, her ears burning hot with new information. “So Landon isn’t selling the big house?” He’d left the big house to Sanjeev and the numerous staff?
His arms went around his back. “No, quite the opposite, in fact.”
Uh-huh. Suspicion pricked her spine just as it had with Emmaline back at the funeral home. “You know something I don’t know, don’t you?”
Sanjeev’s eyes shadowed. “I know only the things I know.”
“As clear as mud as always, Sanjeev,” she said even though his evident secrecy made her grin.
Sanjeev’s chin lifted as it always did when he was disgruntled about the fact that he still didn’t have a full understanding of the subtleties of the English language. “For as long as I’ve been in your country, I will never understand you. Mud isn’t clear, Dixie.”
Dixie tilted her head, squinting