The Billionaire Playboy(3)

Without questioning her orders Mike started the engine on his chainsaw and got to work.

“Kevin, help me with this one,” Charlie said as the first section of the tree was sliced off.

It took several trips but eventually Charlie and Kevin moved each section of the tree. Later they would need to be removed from the property but for the time being they were fine lying against the house's foundation.

“Thanks guys.” Charlie wiped her damp hands on her pants and walked back to the bulkhead door.

Before gripping the handle, Charlie again knelt down next to the door. “I’m going to open the door now, Mrs. Mitchell.” Wrapping her hand around the cold metal handle, Charlie pulled open the bulkhead door. The groan of rusty hinges assaulted Charlie's ears. Despite its cry of protest the door opened, and Charlie found Mrs. Mitchell huddled on the concrete stairway that led into the basement. The elderly woman looked tired and cold but otherwise fine. Just to be on the safe side, Charlie went down the stairs to offer Mrs. Mitchell help up.

“I didn't think anyone would find me.” With a bit of struggle Mrs. Mitchell came to her feet. “I forgot the cell phone my daughter gave me and I couldn't get the door open.”

“You had everyone worried. Let me help you up.” Charlie held out her hand. “Just to be on the safe side I want to check your vitals.”

It wasn't until after Charlie helped Mrs. Mitchell up the last step that she noticed the black Cadillac Escalade parked on the street and the two men standing near it. So the Falmouth Foundation sent its poster boy to the front lines, Charlie thought as she watched Jake Sherbrooke speak with Joseph Bates, Town Administrator. She knew the billionaire playboy was the head of the Falmouth Foundation, a disaster relief organization. The town administrator had mentioned that the foundation was arriving with some much-needed aid. However, she hadn't thought they would send him. From what she heard, he didn't strike her as the hands-on type. Rich spoiled men like him acted as the public face of organizations while everyone else did the real work. After all he was not only a member of the Sherbrooke Family, one of the richest families in America, but his father was the President of the United States.

At least he'll be out of here as soon as his photo op is done.



As Jake listened to the town official explain what damage the town suffered, he couldn't keep his eyes off the redhead barking out orders. He figured she could probably make a Marine drill instructor drop and give her fifty push-ups. Normally he didn't go for redheads. He'd always favored brunettes, but he couldn't keep himself from watching her as she helped an elderly woman from her basement. There was an aura of self-confidence emanating from her.

“Like other towns around here we have no electricity and many downed trees. The dam letting go is what really devastated us. All the neighborhoods near the river and lake are flooded. Those between Church Street and Lincoln are in the worst shape. Water levels in some spots have been measured at seven feet,” the town administrator explained.

Jake already knew about the dam. In fact that was why he'd chosen North Salem. “What about injuries?” Jake pulled his eyes away from the redhead who was sitting by the older woman, checking her pulse.

“Only three reported casualties. But there are lots of injuries and several people are still unaccounted for. Dr. O'Brien can give you a detailed medical report. She's been handling medical issues in the field.”

Jake made a note to check with Dr. O'Brien as soon as he finished with the town official. “How do things stand with shelters?”

“We've already started setting things up at the high school, but it won't be enough. There are not many places …” Before he could finish his cell phone rang. “If you'll excuse me, I need to take this call,” he said after checking the caller ID.

Jake nodded. “No problem.” Once the man walked away Jake surveyed the activity around him. It seemed as if everyone around him was active and the few that weren't were simply taking short water breaks. At the head of it all was the redhead. He couldn't help but wonder who she was. She didn't strike him as a town official, yet she gave the appearance of authority and people seemed to listen to her.

Unable to just stand around and do nothing while others worked, Jake figured the redhead was the person to ask where he could help. Ignoring the stares and whispers he got as he walked by, Jake made his way toward the elderly woman's house where the redhead was at work covering up one of the broken windows with some plywood. Stopping close enough so that she would hear him over the pounding hammer without shouting, but far enough away to avoid getting hit by her swings, he was momentarily speechless. From a distance the redhead was pretty, but up close she was downright beautiful. He guessed she was about five-foot seven or so because she stood only a few inches shorter than his six-one. Her fiery red hair was pulled back in a knot and the gray t-shirt and khaki cargo pants she wore did nothing to hide her figure.