She put on her best serious face—the one with slightly raised eyebrows and a near-frown that made her look weary and slightly bored of her own intelligence, and answered Kennedy’s questioning stare. God forbid she catch on to Sadie’s true motive. If Kennedy knew, everyone would know, and then the full extent of Sadie’s desperation would become the new hot topic in the office, forever sullying her image. She had a reputation to protect for being an independent badass.
Besides, if Kennedy was already crushing on Blake, a likely scenario, she’d only take Sadie’s interest as a personal affront. “Isn’t it obvious? He might’ve let something interesting slip in his fawning all over Amanda, so I’ll talk to her.” As if it would be that easy. Were it anyone else, easy as pie. “As a potential runner in the bid for Duncan’s job, I need to know everything I can about Blake Cobb.”
Sadie inhaled, squared her shoulders, licked her teeth, and eyed her quarry. She could do this. She had until her feet carried her across the room to come up with a sincere, welcoming introduction.
“Hi, Amanda.” Not what she had in mind, but simple.
Even caught off guard, Amanda’s expression hardly wavered. Perhaps some slight widening of her eyes, but it could’ve been a trick of the light.
She had green eyes, after all. Sadie mentally added that to the tiny list of things she knew about Amanda. “I, uh, noticed you striking up a conversation with the new guy. What’re your impressions of him?” She ended the question on a conspiratorial tone, hoping it would lure Amanda into a bout of gossip.
Instead, Amanda’s mouth turned down. “He’s nice.”
Sadie couldn’t blame her for frowning. Outside of work-related topics, she doubted she’d said more than ten words to Amanda before today. “That’s good. I suppose we need someone to balance out Wes.”
Amanda’s frown deepened. “Wes is nice, too.”
Sadie bit her lip and switched tactics. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge wasn’t doing the trick. She stood up straighter and gave Amanda a concerned appraisal. “Are you okay? You seem kind of down. A little frazzled.” Actually, she seemed as complacent as ever. Smooth as a stagnant pond.
Magically, Sadie had hit a mark.
Amanda inhaled deeply, her frown still fixed. “I appreciate that you noticed. Duncan has decided to double my workload.”
Sadie tutted. “Geez, what’s with that guy? Don’t you do enough around here?”
“Exactly the point I made.” Even commiserating, Amanda remained perfectly poised. No gesturing hands or rolling eyes. “I’m not certain it’s my job to pick up Duncan’s slack, although I understand the demands of his position. Still, I have my own responsibilities to see to.”
Right. Because Mama Avery owned the firm, Amanda understood everyone’s position. Yet she had no interest in filling any role more ambitious than bookkeeping, for whatever reason. Sadie had never bothered to ask. She was afraid inquiring now would open up a world of chitchat she hadn’t come prepared for. On the one hand, she was on a time-sensitive mission. On the other, sometimes you had to go around your elbow to get to your ass.
“I understand,” Sadie lamented. “What job is old Duncan trying to pawn off on bookkeeping?” Something boring to do with internal accounting, probably.
Amanda loosed a tiny sigh. “I’m supposed to take the new audit director to look for a house this weekend. What Duncan perhaps doesn’t realize is I spend most of my free time in Alpine, and I hate driving the canyon more than I absolutely have to.”
Cha-ching noises rang in Sadie’s ears. Karma wasn’t always a bitch. Sometimes she was really sweet and thoughtful. “I don’t blame you. That canyon highway is just as treacherous as Teton Pass in the right conditions.”
“More like the wrong conditions.” Amanda’s frown did a weird thing—it turned up a tad on one side.
It caught Sadie like a sudden strong wind. Holy moly, did Amanda Avery just make a joke? What planet am I on? “Ha. You’re right. The wrong conditions. Okay.” She licked her lips. “Um, so how can I help? I’m free this weekend. I even know a place or two on the market. I could show Blake around if you’d like.”
“Blake?” Amanda’s face turned quizzical.
It was probably a good sign Amanda didn’t recall his name. Especially if Sadie was serious about angling for a date. Although, date would be more aptly described as a field study in her new crusade to give the nice guy a try. “The new audit director. Blake Cobb.”
“Oh, right.” Amanda paused and seemed to think it through. It was hard to tell, her face as blank as ever. Finally, she met Sadie’s gaze. “I couldn’t express how much I’d appreciate it.”
Ain’t that the truth. Sadie gave her an aw-shucks smile. “Glad I can help you out.”
Chapter 3
Blake tried really, really hard to keep his disappointment in check when Sadie’s familiar red Ford pulled into the curved drive of the hotel lot. He felt stupid now, looking at the charcoal gray slacks he’d pressed to perfection in preparation for spending the day with Amanda.
Instead, he got Sadie, Kira’s long-lost sister.
She pulled up to the curb, and Blake hopped in to be greeted by a winsome smile. The ball cap hadn’t made a return appearance, but Blake was learning Sadie’s personal and professional styles didn’t occupy the same sphere.
At work, she wore three-inch, black peep-toe heels like she’d been born in a pair, and slim black slacks with bold silk shirts, sometimes tucked with a decorative belt but more often left long like a tunic and enhanced with one or two eye-catching pieces of high quality jewelry. A thick gold cuff on her wrist or large cubic studs in her ears that peeked and glinted with every tilt of her head. No neon purple hoops for Sadie.
Her weekend apparel had a more playful, practical flair—cut-off denim shorts, a beat-up pair of Nikes sans socks, and no jewelry, with the exception of tiny silver hoops. To replace the ball cap, a red bandana was wrapped around her head and tied at the top, pulling the hair back from her face. An overly large pair of round white plastic sunglasses completed her look. She reminded Blake of a ladybug.
He buckled his seat belt. “Thanks for taking me house hunting. I appreciate it.”
Sadie nodded but made no move to put the truck into drive. Instead, she smiled wider. “You were expecting Amanda, I know. She spends most weekends with her mom in Alpine. You know, Mrs. Avery. I’m sure you’ve met her.”
“Telephone interview, actually.” He glanced over his shoulder. No oncoming traffic. “Are we going to go or what?”
She tilted her head. “You don’t want to change? Jeans and a T-shirt, maybe? We aren’t doing anything today that requires…” Her hands finished the sentence as they waved, fingers wriggling, in the direction of his lap.
Heat suffused his face. For the sake of his pride, he wanted to tell her he dressed like this all the time, thank you very much, but the thought of a pair of loose Levi’s and an old band shirt sounded too nice after a week of slacks and button-ups. He opened the door without a word.
Fifteen minutes later, they were cruising south down Broadway, the major four-lane highway that cut through the valley and ran the length of town. He’d spent the night in his hotel room scouring a map of the city, but there hadn’t been much to scour. Few main arteries and a smattering of gridded residential areas made up the bulk of the small town.
Sadie pointed to a busy intersection as they passed, a small highway forking to the right. “Highway 22. Stay on it, you’ll end up in this tiny speck called Wilson, the cutest, quaintest town around. Beyond it, Teton Pass, which takes you over into Idaho. Not for the faint of heart, that pass. Eight thousand feet doesn’t seem like much.”
Blake nearly interrupted her there. He didn’t know a soul who’d call eight thousand feet not much.
“But after a two thousand foot climb in a metal box on the side of the mountain, it’s pretty damn intense. Every year, some idiot flies right off one of the switchbacks. In Wil
son, if you hook a right on Moose-Wilson road, you’ll end up in Teton Village, with world-class skiing, high-end restaurants, and some very exclusive gated communities.”
Blake wouldn’t mind exploring his new landscape, but he could think of better company. The polished wooden beams of downtown turned into average buildings and businesses. A familiar sporting goods store and a dollar store whizzed by. Then an Albertson’s off to their left, and as they rounded a curve, Kmart came into view. “Where are we headed? Are you taking me to the bad side of town?”
Sadie didn’t take it for a joke. “There is no bad side of Jackson. I’m taking you to a subdivision outside the city limits called Rafter J. It’s gorgeous, and you’ll have an open, unobstructed view of the mountains on either side of the valley. Plus, if you’re the hiking type, High School Butte is a hop and skip away. Flat Creek Trail, too. It’s paved, great for biking. And, of course, this mountain here”—she pointed to the one rising beyond the Kmart—“is the backside of Snow King, the ski slopes here in town. Jackson sort of wraps around it like a C. Trails all over it. You can climb right to the top.”
If he didn’t come clean now, she’d never stop. “Look, I don’t really hike. Or ski, or do much outside of hitting the gym a few times a week.”
Sadie looked away from the road to gape at him. “What the hell did you move here for, then?” She didn’t wait for his answer but gave her attention to the road and snorted. “The cost of living is through the roof, and houses have a median dollar tag of a cool million bucks. We’re isolated, cut off on nearly all sides by mountains, and while it’s awesome to be the ‘Gateway to Yellowstone,’ it’s a good hour away and closed almost half the year. So, really, why here?”
“For all the reasons you just said.” Blake wanted to bite his tongue. He didn’t owe Sadie an explanation, but something about her made him want to give her one, in a defensive, insecure way. Now, why could that be?
Oh, yeah. The whole Kira thing. So far, Sadie’s personality was pretty much in line with what Blake might’ve expected from his ex-mistress, especially the edge of condemnation and judgment in her exasperated voice.
When Sadie’s lip curled, he tried again. “It’s not your business, but I came here for solitude and a job suited to my résumé. Like you, I deal in millions. There aren’t many small mountain towns with a year-round population of less than ten thousand people and that sort of financial profile.”
Sadie started to reply and stopped. Her mouth clamped down. They passed a couple of hotels and a pet supply store. “You’re an auditor. What’s it matter if the client roster is high-end when you deal with internal accounts?”
The truth? His paycheck. Avery & Thorp paid nearly four times the amount some of the others firms offered for the same position. Since Quinn had taken her best-selling novelist income with her in the divorce, Blake was left on his own to uphold his high-finance lifestyle. Much as he’d grown as a person, he still had expensive tastes, thanks to a solid couple decades spent indulging them. He refused to feel bad about liking money. Nothing wrong with making it to spend it.
And it wasn’t like he didn’t have bills. He’d be accountable for half of Seth’s tuition the following spring, and he doubted Purdue offered discounts for the privileged.
Blake decided he was done answering Sadie. In fact, he needed to cut the head off the dragon now, before it had a chance to grow bigger teeth or thicker scales. “What does it matter to you why it matters to me? How about we just look at houses and stop talking about work.”
A half-shouldered shrug. “Fine. We can talk about other stuff. You have any interesting hobbies or character quirks? What do you for fun? Knit? Volunteer? Collect vintage spice racks? Starch your pants while you listen to NPR?”
“For fun, I…” Blake paused mid-breath. In one rapid-fire round, Sadie had him pegged. He was boring. Dull, mundane, humdrum. Lifeless. The realization stung, then settled heavy in his chest. No wonder Quinn didn’t want him. He’d never had a chance up against someone like Jack, had he?
He shifted uncomfortably and gazed out the window. “I, uh…Well, I read.”
Sadie slowed to turn onto a sloping road that dipped into the valley on the right. A creek bed snaked between houses and clusters of aspens and cottonwoods. The road followed the same curving pattern as it turned toward the sprawling neighborhood. The houses weren’t built on a typical grid system, something Blake had noticed was the norm for Jackson; more like they sprinkled across the valley in a random pattern, with lots of open space and a substantial number of cul-de-sacs.
“What do you read?” Sadie had slowed to a near crawl, the speed limit having dropped down to twenty. “Romance? Sci-Fi?”
He didn’t think my ex-wife’s novels would earn him any points. “Business Weekly.”
Sadie sighed with such obvious disappointment; Blake felt it right in his pride. Good thing he wasn’t here to entertain anyone.
After a few more curves, they passed over a charming wooden bridge, like something out of a fairy tale, and Sadie pulled up to the curb in front of a huge, white clapboard house with two stories, a looped gravel driveway, and landscaping fit for the cover of Home & Garden magazine.
“I hate it.” He couldn’t have handpicked a better visual representation of the cookie-cutter life he was desperately trying to leave behind.
Sadie’s head whipped around so fast, Blake winced. “What do you mean, you hate it?”
“Okay, hate’s kind of intense. I only mean it’s not much different from my place in L.A. I can’t see the mountains through the stand of Douglas firs. There’s nothing rustic about it, no charming mountain-type features. It’s not a log home. It’s on flat land. It’s also huge. I’m one guy. At most, I need a guestroom for when Seth visits.”
If Seth ever visited.
She chewed her lips, and her smoky gaze traveled over his face like he was some alien species.
Blake squirmed in his seat and wished he was with Amanda. Reserved and poised, she could’ve easily been Quinn’s sister. More so than Quinn’s actual sister, Emily. He didn’t like to think about that, though. He’d rather think about Amanda and how he’d eventually pry her out of that cool, confident shell. Finally, frustrated with both the house and the current company, Blake huffed. “Look, it’s not a big deal. If this is what’s available, I’ll take it.”
Abruptly, as if coming to some internal decision, Sadie dropped the truck into gear and shot away from the curb. “You want a mountain? I can give you a mountain.”
Blake swallowed. What had he done? Rather than backtrack, he accepted his fate and promised himself he wouldn’t blame Sadie if she landed him a ramshackle cabin perched high on a mountain cliff. He’d literally asked for it.
Blake refused to give into surprise when Sadie took him back into town, right through the heart of downtown, this time staying due east once they hit the square, and on toward where two mountains ridges seemed to draw to a close.
She took a few winding roads, which grew thinner and less maintained the closer they drove toward the gathering ridges, and took an abrupt right onto what appeared to be a narrow gravel alleyway.
Except, it wasn’t an alley. It was a road, evidenced by the faded road sign naming it Brewster’s Lane. It shot up the side of the mountain—not far from Snow King Ski Resort if Blake’s internal compass was functioning properly—and made a razor-sharp switchback before angling up and out of sight, blocked by a wall of thick, towering pine trees.
She was messing with him. Trying to get a rise out of him. A little payback for saying the last house wasn’t good enough.
Why hadn’t he said, “Sure, it’s great,” and been done with it? He’d be collecting his things in his rental car and pondering furniture right now. Then again, why should he let Sadie’s talent for making him uncomfortable cause him to lose sight of what he’d come here for? He wouldn’t play along in the head game. He wasn’t going to complain or object. He’d see the ho
use on the side of the freaking mountain, he’d tell her thanks but no thanks, and they’d move on. Worse case, he’d choose the first house, after all. Like an episode of House Hunters.
He bit back a groan as the truck climbed. I did this to myself. The story of his life.
They traversed two more switchbacks before the road widened and a few houses cropped up. The fronts were poised on high stilts so they sat even on the mountain face, with parking spots either carved into the mountainside or paved patches beneath the foundation of the house. The third turn was softer than the other two, rounded in a flat semicircle, framed by patches of tall grass and low shrubs.
There, sitting perfectly flat on a small strip of even ground, a small log cabin. Nothing too special. It sat back far enough from the gravel road so two vehicles could park parallel without impeding traffic. It faced north, thick pines filtering a killer view of the town far below. Two small windows flanked the front door, painted a dull red to match the battered shutters.
The deal slid neatly home when Blake spotted the nifty yellow For Rent sign staked into the ground. “Stop.”
Sadie hit the brakes, jostling them both against their seat belts. “Why? What? Is it a bear? Did you see a bear?”
“Right there.” He pointed. “The place for rent.”
She squinted past him, through his window at the sign, then turned an incredulous glare to him. “That place? No, no. Listen, there’s a place a little farther up, okay? It’s got three bedrooms, in case you have family come visit, a big stone fireplace, and a top-notch kitchen. Also, the rent sign isn’t handwritten.”
Blake opened the door and got out, drawn by a subtle tug of a deep secret desire realized. This was the place he’d seen in his daydreams of a simple life lived with simple pleasures. It was as far from the game as he could get. A place to hide away and rediscover who he was, rather than obsessing about the jerk he’d become. A place to heal.
“It’s perfect.”
* * * *
Sadie retrieved her jaw from its unhinged position and blinked.
Running the Numbers Page 4
