“Then who deals with the financial side of the business?” she forced out.
“That would be Joe Keslar,” Nate said.
She crossed one hand over the other on the table. “Is he here?”
It was a long shot, considering the plant was in turnaround, but she was due some good luck.
“No.”
“Can you call him in?”
Worst-case scenario, she’d lose a couple of hours, although the idea of waiting made her insides scream in frustration.
“That’s going to be a problem,” Nate said, sliding an uneasy look in Wyatt’s direction.
She tightened her lips. Guess the universe disagreed about owing her some good luck. “Why?”
“Because he isn’t here,” Nate said.
“I know. You already said that.”
“He didn’t mean Joe isn’t here at the plant,” Wyatt said. “He meant he’s not here in Bradleton.”
Both of these men were in the process of doing a Texas two-step all over her last nerve. “Are you kidding me? You knew I was coming, right?”
“Well, yes, but we weren’t informed of your intentions until a few days ago.”
Wyatt drummed his fingers against the table. “If someone would’ve asked, I’m sure Nate would’ve told you this wasn’t the best time for your evaluation.”
He was so smug. That’s what every company would’ve said. No one likes when an analyst comes in.
“Turnaround is scheduled months in advance,” Nate said, “and Joe isn’t needed for it, so . . .”
“‘So,’ what? Where is he?”
“Joe takes his family on a hunting and fishing retreat every year and he usually coordinates it with turnaround,” Nate said.
The hits just kept on coming. Why was this happening to her? She was a good person, she gave to charities, she didn’t kick cats or dogs. She was practically a saint!
“Call him and tell him we need him back here.”
“I couldn’t do that! It’s the highlight of his year. It would take an act of God to get him to cancel it.”
Then call her Athena, goddess of war, wisdom, and strategy. She’d figure out a way to get what she needed.
“Where does he go?”
Virginia was large, bordered by the ocean on the east and mountains on the west. If he left now to drive back, he’d be here by—
“Appleton, Wisconsin.”
Son of a bitch!
Okay, breathe, Caila. Just breathe. “What are we talking, two days? Three?”
“Two weeks.”
Why did Wyatt look like the cat who ate the goddamn canary?
“That’s unacceptable. I need his reports! I can’t even tell what areas I need to focus on without that information. Look, I don’t need him for the reports. Can’t you find the files? I can interpret them myself.”
Nate shook his head. “I can’t access his files. I don’t know his password.”
This was un-fucking-believable! “So what are you saying?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious,” Wyatt said, not bothering to hide the grin spreading across his handsome face. “I guess you’re stuck here for the foreseeable future.”
Chapter Eight
The moment the factory door closed behind Caila, Wyatt threw his head back and blew out a long breath.
Nate braced both arms against the counter in the vestibule and dropped his head. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into doing that.”
“We did what we needed to do.”
“But if she ever finds out—”
Wyatt walked over to the glass door that looked out on the parking lot. “How would she? We have no reason to tell her and Joe definitely won’t.”
“But what if she does find out and that impacts her decision?”
Outside, Caila headed to her car, the sun gleaming on her dark, thick hair. Wyatt could practically feel the earth shake from the forceful anger of her steps. A few seconds later, she drove away and he turned back. “Then that’s the chance we’re taking. But doing nothing wasn’t an option.”
“Why not?” Nate asked, pacing in the tight space. “Maybe going along with her and giving her what she wanted was the right move. We’re a good, solid co-packer. Our quality is amazing, we’ve never been late with an order, and we value our employees and treat them well. That should be enough!”
“It was with Flair. But Endurance is a large corporation. They only care about the bottom line. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d already made her mind up before she got here. Like she said, the plant’s expenses have increased by twenty percent.”
“What were we supposed to do? Flair is our only customer. We can only fulfill the orders they give us. When they cut back, we have less work. But we still had to take care of our people.”
“Hey!” Wyatt cupped Nate’s shoulder. “You’re preaching to the choir. I understand and think what you did is admirable. But you’re costing them money. And she doesn’t seem like the type of woman who’d overlook that sort of thing.”
He wished he could stop fantasizing about the type of woman she was.
“I don’t see how lying to her will change anything,” Nate said. “What you’re saying will be just as true in two weeks as it is right now. What’s the point of lying to her and making her stay here longer?”
Wyatt knew he’d have no chance of saving the contract if Caila stayed in Bradleton for only a few days and he knew from Gwen that she planned to check out on Monday. He couldn’t stand by and watch her perfunctory evaluation, knowing the harm her casual words could cause.
Joe did take his family on vacation every year, but they usually stayed in Virginia in the Smith Mountain Lake area. And they were never gone for more than a week. In fact, they were due home on Monday. But Wyatt had needed more time. He’d called Joe and explained the situation. Convinced him to extend his vacation an extra couple of weeks.
At Wyatt’s expense.
“She needs to see us as more than just numbers on a spreadsheet. She needs to understand what the plant means to this town and she can’t do that in a day or two. I’ve given us two weeks to fill her with the Bradleton spirit. If we do our part and get her on our side, she’ll give a good recommendation to Endurance and they’ll keep you on as their co-packer.”
He hoped.
It might not be the most ethical plan, but it was the only shot he had to save jobs and prevent the utter decimation of the town he loved.
Wyatt rolled the highball glass of whiskey between his hands and watched as Bubba Woodson tried to pick up Caila Harris. The other man leaned down and said something to her that Wyatt couldn’t hear over the jukebox. Caila barely glanced his way, uttering some words and giving a swift shake of her head. Bubba looked annoyed as he stalked away, his posture tense with annoyance.
Of all the bars, in all the small towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.
It had been a hell of a day. Between the bombshell his grandfather dropped on him, the meeting with Caila at the plant, and reviewing solicitations for bids for several town projects, he’d had enough of duty and responsibility. He’d stopped for a drink at his favorite bar before heading home to work on his coffee table, when the hairs on the back of his neck stirred and he’d looked into the mirror over the bar to see Caila stride into the place, looking as cool and confident as she had this morning.
His body had kicked into eager-puppy mode and he’d been annoyed by the reaction. Why this particular woman? He doubted there was a more unsuitable choice for the object of his powerful, single-minded desire.
He’d sat, nursed his drink, and watched as five guys had approached her in the past forty minutes, all with the same result as Bubba. Two of the guys had let it go. A couple of them appeared to still be stewing about it, standing at the corner of the bar, sending dark looks her way as they nursed the beers they’d ordered to soothe their egos.
Not liking where this might go, he finally got up from his seat and approached her.
She was staring into her glass of wine.
“Seriously?” she protested, without looking up. “Does anyone in this place understand the meaning of the word no?”
He slid in across from her and rested an arm along the back of the booth. “They better. And if they don’t, I’ll make sure it sticks.”
She stiffened, then raised her head to look at him. Her eyes widened for a brief second and he held back his smile, used to that reaction from most women. He liked knowing that she wasn’t immune to his charm.
Before he could dislocate his shoulder patting himself on the back, her lips tightened and she returned her attention to her drink.
“It’s going to be a long couple of weeks if I can’t enjoy a drink by myself without getting hit on.”
“Probably. But come on, don’t tell me you’re not used to it.”
That got her full head-up-posture-straight-eyes-on-him attention. “I’m used to it so I have to accept it?”
“That’s not what I said. But look at you. You’re gorgeous. You know it’s going to happen, so give the guys a break.”
“You’re right, it’s all my fault. I should change my behavior instead of telling them to not bother me.” She shook her head.
He folded his arms on the table. “It’s a small town, one where most of us know each other. We don’t know you. You’ll have to forgive us if we want to get to know the beautiful stranger in our midst.”
She stared at him, and one corner of her full mouth ascended. “Oh, I see. The obnoxious approaches don’t work, so they send in Mayor McHottie?”
“You think I’m hot?”
She winced. “No, but I think that line is old.”
He laughed, charmed against his will.
Don’t fall for it! You’re here because she’s threatening the livelihood of people in your town and you can’t allow that to happen. This isn’t personal.
Yeah, he wasn’t the first man to lie to himself when it came to a woman.
He was captivated by her intelligence and sharp wit. She energized him, kept him on his toes. What would it be like to order another drink and spend the next hour getting to know her? Not as mayor and corporate representative, but as a man and the woman he found irresistibly attractive?
The fact that he seriously considered finding out was the very reason he wouldn’t.
“Look, can I buy you a drink just to say there’s no hard feelings?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not going to stop you.”
At least that was something.
He signaled to the bartender. “Hey Donnie, can you put her next drink on my tab?”
Donnie lifted a hand in acknowledgment. “Sure thing, Mayor.”
He sighed and moved to the end of the bench. “Have a good night and be careful.”
She looked at him, her forehead furrowed. “You’re not staying?”
“Is that an invitation?”
“No!” she said, too quickly. Then, “More like a relieved observation.”
He smiled. “As welcoming as that sounds, I have . . . plans for this evening.”
“Of course you do.” She lifted a brow. “I mean, what else is there to do in small towns but . . . plan?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about small towns.”
“Oh, I know plenty,” she said, with a wry twist of her mouth.
He made a pointed show of looking her up and down. “Nothing about you screams small town.”
“Good. Then the big-city fairy godmother did her job.”
And on that note, he should go. Except—
He didn’t want to.
He propped his elbow on the table and dropped his chin into his palm. “What big city saw fit to lend you to us?”
Her grin was reluctant. “Chicago.”
“Chi-Town! Great city.”
She gave him a dubious look. “You’ve been to Chicago?”
“You look surprised. What, small-town people can’t travel?”
She had the grace to look embarrassed. Her chin dipped down.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m being a raving bitch.” She inhaled deeply. “Thank you for the drink. I don’t want to keep you from your . . . plans,” she said, once again mimicking his hesitation.
She held out her hand and he took it, braced for the impact this time around. Were they destined to generate sparks every time they touched?
She pulled away from him, flexing her fingers. “I’ll see you around.”
He tapped a finger against the table. “Yeah, you will.”
He went back to his table to collect his belongings. Bubba sidled over.
“What a bitch.”
The slur chafed. “Why? Because she’s not interested?”
“Well, yeah. And it’s the way she said it. Like she thought she was better than me.”
“She is better than you, Bubba. It doesn’t take much.”
“Fuck you, Wyatt.”
Caila laid a bill on the table and gracefully slid to her feet. Several men shifted to watch her leave, including Bubba, who still stood next to him. Heeding the unease stirring in his gut, Wyatt followed her out of the bar. He found her just outside the door, looking at her phone.
“Can I walk you to your car?”
“A drink doesn’t entitle you to anything more than a thank-you. Actually, not even that when said drink was given in apology. Your apology was accepted. Transaction completed.”
He ignored that. “While you’re here, you may want to reconsider going to a bar by yourself.”
She stared at him. “You’re not a six-foot-four black man with a mustache and full beard?”
He looked at his hands and patted his face. “Last time I checked.”
“And your name isn’t Lawrence Harris?”
“Nope.”
“Then you’re not the ghost of my deceased father issuing advice from the great beyond and I don’t have to listen to you.”
Challenging women had never been his thing but Caila Harris fascinated him. He wished he understood why. “True. But it’s late, you’re in a strange town, and some of the men you rejected are acting like babies. I don’t want—”
“I get it! But I didn’t drive.”
“Then can I see you back to Gwen’s? Please?”
She glanced up and down the darkened street and then pressed a button on her phone. “Okay.”
He couldn’t remember ever working this hard for an opportunity to take a woman home.
The mood inside the car was somber, and the close, intimate confines of his BMW convertible fucked with his head. He couldn’t escape her. He was aware each time she shifted in her seat and smoothed back a strand of her hair. His eyes were drawn to the bare patch of skin above her knee that glowed in the light from the streetlamps shining through the windows. And with each inhalation, he took in faint traces of her perfume until he was damn near dizzy with desire for her.
Why hadn’t he driven his roomier, more rugged Land Rover?
As he turned onto the main road that led out of the historic downtown area to the surrounding neighborhoods, a gust of wind rustled the large vinyl banner strung between two light posts that announced the town’s upcoming sporting event.
“The homecoming game is tomorrow night. We usually get an impressive turnout.”
There was nothing like a high school football game. In the crisp autumn air, beneath the bright Friday night lights, the community came together to celebrate and support its local athletes.
She stared straight ahead but frowned. “I’d forgotten how important football is in a small town.”
Forgotten. Not imagined, which was what someone might say when they assumed a fact. She’d said forgotten. As if she’d once known. This was the second time she’d made a comment about understanding life in small towns.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Were you born in Chicago?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “No.”
That was it. S
he didn’t elaborate with additional words or invite more questions with her tone. He should respect her wish to not discuss it any further, but he couldn’t deny the yearning within him to know more about her. To know all about her.
Strictly for business purposes.
“Where?” he pressed. “East Coast? West Coast? The South?”
She finally turned to face him, the streetlights casting frustrating shadows over her face. “Maryland.”
Surprise disoriented him for a moment, and he almost missed his turn. Out of all the places he thought she’d say, he hadn’t expected to learn she’d been so close.
“Where in Maryland?”
She was doing her best to twist her fingers into pretzel-like shapes. “Baltimore.”
Well, he’d gotten that completely wrong! Had he been so eager to believe that she could relate to Bradleton that he’d picked up on cues where there were none? He needed to get back on track.
“In addition to the game, there’s also a parade. And I’ll be there to help crown the homecoming court.”
She lifted her hands and let them fall back in her lap. “A mayor’s duties never end.”
They never did. Some might say what he was contemplating with regard to Caila went above and beyond his duties, but he believed his job included doing what was in the best interests of his community. Most of the town would show up for the game. It would be the perfect opportunity for her to see Bradleton’s strong sense of community firsthand.
“You want to come to the game with me?”
She jerked and touched her throat. “Oh no, I couldn’t.”
Not the response he usually received to his invitations. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“I don’t think so. And I don’t have anything to wear. I only packed for work.”
“Is everything you have with you like that?” he asked, motioning to her outfit.
Not that he was complaining. She looked classy and elegant in her navy and white pinstriped sheath dress and her gray cardigan, but her clothes clearly marked her as an outsider. He wanted her to blend in, to feel comfortable while she was here.
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