Blake morphed before her eyes. His face alighted with childlike wonder, a genuine smile—the first she’d seen—played across his lips, and he bounced on the balls of his feet as he approached the cabin. In his fascinated stupor, he hadn’t bothered to close the truck door.
She climbed out and came around to shut it. Blake peeked through windows of the cabin, his smile growing with each inspection, even as he wiped away dirt from the panes with the side of his fist.
She didn’t get it. She found the cabin unimpressive and bleak. Blake made great money. He could afford something with more creature comforts. The other house had a big balcony with Adirondack chairs already set up, ready for prime coffee sipping.
His life. She pulled her phone from her pocket.
Blake glanced at it. “If you’re calling my therapist, tell her the jacket’s not necessary this time. I promise I haven’t lost my mind.”
Oh, wow, a joke. Sadie thought back to the last week. She hadn’t witnessed any signs of an actual personality inhabiting Blake…until now. In fact, he was alarmingly similar to Amanda. But maybe he wasn’t dull and boring, after all. Maybe the guy was depressed.
Sadie cocked her head and peered at Blake. “I bet she’s been burned by that one before.”
He turned his delighted smile on her, and Sadie’s skin warmed. “I guess she can bring it along in case.”
Sadie shook her head. Damn if this guy wasn’t getting to her.
Blake looked back at the cabin and kept talking, as much to himself as to her. “I know, it seems crazy. Because I’m…whatever the hell I am.” His voice lowered some, and his usual starched tone colored over the small bit of happiness he’d had for a minute there. “I was partner in my old firm. Success never once made my life better, though. Ambition to be the best, to have the best—it only made me lose sight of my values. And when I lost those, I lost just about everything else. Ambition used to be a quality we frowned upon as a society, you know that? And I can see why. It’s why I have to step back and find a little humility. I can’t just think about it. I have to live it.”
An ambitious player in the game, Sadie took the dig personally. “Sounds to me like a personal flaw. Not everyone who achieves success, or has the ambition to strive for it, loses sight of their values.”
The stricken look on Blake’s face made her want to recall the words. She hadn’t meant it as an attack. A little paler than he had been a second ago, he nodded but said nothing. His awed, happy expression darkened.
Sadie felt it right in the gut. “Look, Blake, I didn’t mean—”
“Who were you going to call?”
She bit her lip. Blake had revealed depths she wouldn’t have guessed at. A past riddled with regrets and loss. She wanted to pry him open and steal his secrets; make him sing like a canary. But not today. She’d unwittingly compelled him to close the window, and now she’d have to wait for another opportunity to delve into his layers.
“The landlord.” Sadie hooked her thumb toward the sign. “There’s a number scrawled across the bottom.”
The wait for the old man who’d answered on the first ring was one of the most uncomfortable stretches of time Sadie had ever suffered through. Blake’s mood had fallen into dismal territory, and Sadie had no idea what to say to fix it. Finally, a dusty little pickup meandered up the hill and pulled in behind her Ford.
A round, gray-haired man with a tremendous scraggly beard and thick glasses approached. “Dale,” he grunted by way of introduction. “You want to see inside the place?”
Since he’d addressed Sadie, she pointed to Blake as he rounded the far side of the cabin, having inspected the whole exterior. “He’s your guy.”
Dale followed the line of her pointing finger. His face fell a little.
Sadie didn’t blame him for doubting the sincerity of a renter who looked like Blake. With his perfectly smooth face, stylish salon-grade haircut, and jeans that looked like they were purchased brand new this morning, he looked like money itself. The smooth vanilla type usually preferred the landscaped yards of the Aspens, an upscale community of condos near Teton Village, or a swanky downtown loft.
She waved Blake over. Dale launched into an introduction and unlocked the cabin for him to have a look around. “Two small bedrooms. Partially furnished, so you’d probably want to pick up a few things. Dishes, things like that. Kitchen’s there.” He pointed to the left. He stood just inside the door and let Sadie and Blake move past him into the cabin.
It wasn’t so bad. Cupboards lined the far wall, and a small square table was shoved into the corner next to the fridge. Not much counter space, but did Blake cook? Probably not. He struck Sadie as a takeout kind of guy. A faded green sofa backed up to the kitchen, serving as a barrier between it and the living room. Which was tiny; just large enough to squeeze in near the only heat source Sadie had spotted so far.
She smoothed a hand over the uneven mantle fixed over the wood-burning stove, pleasantly surprised when her hand came away clean, and turned to Blake, who was opening cupboards in the kitchen. “You’ll need firewood to get through the winter.”
On the right, two identical doors led to the two bedrooms, also identical in both size and shape. The sofa faced the bedrooms, which left just the small stretch of wall between the two doors to stick a television set if Blake were so inclined.
She expected the inside to be a let-down. Sparse hardly covered it. “What do you think, Blake?”
He’d moved over to study the wood-burning stove. When he faced her, she was struck by the simple happiness there. Her mind whirled back to Nina’s first description of Blake. So very good-looking. And so, he was. More so without inner troubles clouding his face. For now, he seemed to have escaped their grip.
This close to him, the individual colors in his eyes stood out with the starkness of a child’s crayon drawing. Green like summer grass at its lushest, with a swirl of amber dancing through the middle. The lines at the corners spoke to his age, as well as the scarcity of his smiles. A lively twinkle replaced his usual somber stare, and it was enough to stop Sadie in her tracks, like someone had hit the pause button.
Their gazes seemed caught together. He didn’t look away, and Sadie couldn’t if she wanted to.
Finally, he blinked, breaking the spell. “It’s exactly what I want.”
A few minutes later, the details sorted out, Dale led them to his truck, where he’d thoughtfully brought along a rental agreement.
He added an indiscernible squiggle beneath Blake’s neat signature. “You have any problems, call and I’ll take care of it. One last thing. The cabin’s called Fox Watch. There’s a den of foxes somewhere nearby, which is odd because they usually den down near the creek beds in the valleys, ya know. You’ll probably see one, but I always advise renters not to attempt to engage. After all, they’re wild animals, protected since we’re in a national forest, and probably on edge to begin with, since they’ll have young nearby during certain months. So, keep an eye out. And use good judgment.”
Dale lumbered away, waving over his shoulder without looking back, and Blake hit Sadie with his full, unhindered smile, once more jolting her into a new level of awareness. “Fox Watch. That’s cool. Sounds like something Quinn might like.”
Quinn, huh? Could be a man. Could be a woman. Sadie wouldn’t find out without asking. “You need any help getting moved in?” An easy excuse to hang out and worm a few details from those tight lips.
He paused and studied her.
She didn’t squirm under his scrutiny, but she didn’t particularly enjoy it, either.
Blake’s features settled once more into their normal flat state. The shades drawn, the hood down, and the door shut. “I think I’ve got it, thanks.”
* * * *
Sadie gulped wine, well past the sipping point. “I mean, what the hell is wrong with the guy? You know me. I’m not abrasive. Or offensive. I’m as chill as f—”
“Forget Blake
,” Kennedy chimed in. “He’s hung up on Amanda, anyway.”
Sadie relaxed back into her pink chenille throw blanket. She had her favorite slippers on, a fire roaring in the massive stone fireplace, a comically large glass of wine in her hand, and her favorite people huddled nearby on the sofa. So, why was she so damn grumpy? “We were doing great today. He found that stupid cabin, and it was like another person emerged. Then, bam! He looks at me like I’m some kind of offensive thing and doesn’t want anything more to do with me. What if it’s that crappy comment I made about ambition? Of course, I’m sorry for whatever he did to himself on his climb up the ladder, but not every successful person in the world has a crumpled heap of bodies and burned bridges behind them.”
Nina sipped delicately from her glass and tucked her feet neatly beneath her. “Kennedy, you’re his secretary. Didn’t you learn anything last week? Aren’t you taking his calls?”
Kennedy studied her freshly painted fingernails. “The only personal call he gets through the office is from his son, Seth, who I’ve gathered is attending Purdue next spring because he stalled and missed the fall deadline.”
Sadie nodded. “Maybe he has empty nester syndrome.”
Kennedy groaned. “Do we really care? Again, Blake likes Amanda. I bet he’d have taken her up on the offer of help.” She directed a pointed look at Sadie.
Sadie narrowed her gaze, but Kennedy probably had it right.
Kennedy said, “You’re kind of obsessing, Sadie. You’re supposed to be finding out if he’s after Duncan’s job, not trying to be his girlfriend.”
Secretly, Sadie was attempting both. She was definitely developing something of a crush on Blake. Surprising, given how normal he seemed. Did he have a deep, dark secret like all the rest of the guys she gravitated toward? And just what about Blake drew her in? Boring, staid Blake. Could it be that he hardly looked at her, let alone with any sort of mutual attraction? What the hell did that say about her?
That I’m abnormal, or I’m like every other woman on the planet? Say no to the dude who wants you, pine after the guy who doesn’t.
But the last person she wanted to know all this was either one of her friends, sadly. Kennedy was prone to attention-seeking and wouldn’t appreciate Sadie moving in on the new office hottie, and Nina didn’t corral her gossip for Sadie’s ears alone. In fact, she was quite friendly with Reba, who’d tell anyone anything.
Sadie decided a pinch of honesty might go a long way. “I know. And you’re right. But today, I saw a side of Blake I don’t think he even realizes exists. He’s so somber and serious all the time, but today was like a glimmer of someone else shining through. Someone different. He’s clearly troubled. I think he’s depressed. I really do.”
Nina shrugged.
Kennedy rolled her eyes. “So, help him out. Convince Amanda to go on a date with him. That’ll perk him right up.”
Sadie wiggled her toes and ignored Kennedy, even though she suspected her insightful best friend had nailed it. Blake definitely had Amanda on his mind. On the way back to the hotel that afternoon, Sadie had attempted to mine details from him about his life. He’d somehow turned it around, and instead, she’d spent the drive fielding questions about Amanda.
But she wasn’t ready to give in, not when she hadn’t really tried yet. “You’re right. Blake does need help.” She drained her wineglass and smacked her lips. “So, I’m going to help him. Whether he wants it or not.”
Her cell bleeped from where it rested on the arm of the chair. She plucked it up and stuck out her bottom lip in an exaggerated frown. Wine did weird things to her. “It’s Amanda. Why is she calling me?”
Her friends shrugged.
Sadie answered, still watching her friends quizzically, hoping one of them might offer up a theory at the last second. “Hey. Amanda. What’s up?”
“Hi, Sadie. I wanted to ask how it went today. I really didn’t feel comfortable delegating Duncan’s task to you. I didn’t stop to think you might’ve had Saturday plans of your own.”
Sadie struggled to sit up. Eventually, her feet would find the floor and she’d make it to the wine bottle for a refill. “Oh, no trouble. I offered, after all. Besides, it turned out great. Blake found a little cabin up Brewster’s Lane he really seems to love.” She checked her watch. “By now, he’s probably settled.” Her gaze traveled over to Nina and Kennedy. She had an opportunity to keep them off the scent for a while yet. She gave them a flashy wink and dropped into a conspiratorial tone for Amanda. “You could, uh, maybe give him a call. I bet he’d appreciate that.”
“No thanks.”
No pause, no stutter. Zero interest in Blake. Sadie magically refrained from unleashing a goofy, happy grin.
“I only wanted to thank you again, Sadie. I appreciate you stepping up to help me out.”
Sadie’s feet hit the floor, but she sat there a minute. Not ten words to the woman in weeks, and now this? Maybe, like Blake, Amanda had a personality, too. It was just buried so deep she had to poke and prod to get it out of its hole. “Sure, Amanda. Anytime.”
The call ended, and Nina raised her eyebrows at Sadie. “Since when are you and Amanda are on weekend terms?”
“Since now?” Sadie shrugged and padded into the kitchen area. “Maybe she wanted to make sure I didn’t screw up, so Duncan couldn’t put the blame on her for anything.”
“I’d be worried, too. You’re Duncan’s pet. Everyone knows that.” Kennedy had officially slurred her first word.
Sadie shook the empty wine bottle and set it in the sink. They were definitely done with wine for tonight. “Duncan and I keep it twelve degrees of professional. Everyone knows that.”
That seemed to shut Kennedy up for the time being.
“And anyway, if Duncan was really my friend, I’d know a lot more about Blake by now.”
Chapter 4
Kennedy was starting to push Blake’s buttons.
And not the good ones. Every day, she found some new excuse to come in his office, lately with the habit of closing the door behind her, which Blake disliked for several reasons. In his past, he’d closed his door for two kinds of visitors—clients and his mistress.
Kennedy found all sorts of interesting ways to catch his eye, including, but not limited to, bending over in strategic places to pick up something she “dropped,” bending low over his desk to offer him a view down her blouse, and asking his plans for the weekend. To which he always replied he was busy.
Thank God she’d never asked with what, because the answer was usually to practice fire-starting skills and try to make friends with the fox who lived near his cabin. Blake had named him Eric, after a character in one of Quinn’s recent novels, who he secretly suspected was loosely based on him—blond hair, hazel eyes, and a penchant for being a self-serving prick.
No offense to the fox. Blake only meant it as an homage to Quinn, and a reminder to himself.
And was it just him, or did Kennedy’s outfits get a little more revealing with each passing day? It didn’t seem terribly convenient to attempt to get his attention this way, given how the weather had turned. October had come in like a whisper and turned to a roar about two weeks in. A mild month in California, it was a different animal in these parts. And still, everyone assured him real winter hadn’t started yet.
It would really help if he could start a fire. He purchased tiny bundles of firewood at the gas station on the way home and burned through most of it trying to keep warm through the night.
He compared it to when Hunter was born. Thinking of Hunter still brought the dull edge of an old pain front and center. Hunter was Kira’s son. For the first several months of his life, he’d been Blake’s, too, until Blake learned he wasn’t the father. But for those first few months, when he’d been none the wiser and reveled in having another son, Blake had been up and down all through the night to feed and change Hunter.
Tending his meager fire was a lot like that. And it took him no l
ess than an hour just to get it started most nights.
Sadie seemed too busy lately to bother with Blake. Relief warred with disappointment every time they passed one another in the hallway or the lobby. She’d smile, a lovely genuine thing that cast Catalina and Amanda’s lukewarm greetings in a pale light.
He did his best to ignore how it made him feel, her smile. It was a little perk, a surprise pick-me-up. She had some kind of magnetism, and as often as Blake’s gaze sought out Amanda, it often found its way to Sadie. He watched her professional hand at dealing with high priority clients, and how deftly she snuck Kennedy into her office to gossip.
Occasionally, she had the uncanny talent for catching him at it. She’d turn her head suddenly, and their gazes would lock. He had to wonder if she sensed his attentions on her, or if she suffered from the same staring problem he did. Sometimes, she smiled. He’d smile back. Other times, her face hinted at more somber thoughts. He’d have paid to know what they were.
Then there was her reaction to Wes. A wild animal came to life behind her bright, silvery gaze when he entered the scene. Blake had spent the last several weeks observing her feud with the greasy-haired Wes. It interested him. Blake couldn’t say if it was because Sadie was an intriguing study all her own, or if Wes’s love/hate relationship with her fascinated him. Wes wanted the new Castley account, but he also wanted Sadie, who wanted the same account.
Would Sadie eventually give in and date her rival? Would Wes choose between his ambition and his crush on Sadie? Was Sadie’s hostility fueled by ambition? Or passion?
He’d find out today, when Duncan announced who’d won the account.
A gentle knock sounded on Blake’s door a few minutes before noon. It took a great deal of willpower not to drop his head directly onto his desk and hope it hurt enough to block out the sound of Kennedy’s voice.
Kennedy beamed. “Hi there. You snuck right past me this morning!”
He gave her a thin-lipped smile. “That’s me. Sneaky McGee.”
Running the Numbers Page 5
