Cowboy 12 Pack
Page 104
She’d done all this and more, and once she’d shown Jamie her results and he’d praised her to the skies, only asking for one or two minor changes, she’d polished her presentation and called Carl to ask for a meeting.
Lacey Taylor was once Ethan’s fiancee. She’d left him—thank God—after she’d discovered the extent of the ranch’s debts. Claire didn’t think she could have stood Lacey as a sister-in-law. Lacey latched on to Carl Whitfield, a millionaire and wanna-be rancher who’d managed to piss off almost everyone in Chance Creek. Things had settled down some, and Carl and Lacey intended to get married after Lacey finished her four months in a live-in counseling program in Bozeman. Apparently she had unresolved traumas from her childhood she wanted to work on before marrying Carl. Ethan had hinted something like that before the wedding, but who would have believed Lacey Taylor had grown up enough to make such an adult decision? Carl wanted to surprise her when she returned by having his mansion built and decorated. If she could score this contract, she’d be well on her way to establishing Cruz Designs as a company worthy of notice.
She’d called every one of her old clients the day she’d left Ledstrom Designs, apprised them of the situation and told them that unfortunately she wouldn’t be able to work with them on any current project they had with Daniel’s company. It killed her to give up all the work she’d done, but she knew many of the clients would seek her out in the future once they found Daniel wasn’t as good a designer as she was.
If she was honest, though, it was killing her to work inside while living on the ranch. She watched Jamie through the large floor-to-ceiling windows as he worked with the horses in the corrals. Ethan came and went, tending the cattle now that he and Autumn were home from their honeymoon. Autumn spent more time indoors, but even she worked in the kitchen garden.
Claire was the only one chained to a desk in the beautiful summer weather. Once or twice she’d ridden out at night with Jamie to see the building site, but she put him off whenever she could. It was so hard to turn Storm around and come back inside afterward.
Why was she torturing herself like this? Why not admit defeat and leave interior design to Daniel?
Because she refused to be defeated by a man like that. Not a second time.
She glanced at her reflection in the mirror again. Her suit was finely tailored, her hair brushed to a shine. Her makeup was understated but flattering. And Jamie’s elegant ring set the whole outfit off.
It glittered there as a constant reminder of what she really wanted. For Jamie to be the kind of man she needed him to be. A man who would stick by her through thick and thin. Now that their bet had kicked in and he wasn’t touching her, she was more conscious of him than ever. Every time he came near her she held her breath, wanting him to take her into his arms. But then he would lose the bet, and she didn’t want him to lose, did she?
Because then the ranch and Jamie would be off limits to her for good.
She wanted him so bad. Wanted to make love to him again.
Focus, Claire.
Time to go score one of the biggest interior design contracts in Montana.
A HALF-HOUR LATER, she sat at a scarred wooden table in Linda’s diner, waiting for Carl Whitfield to join her, alternately checking her laptop to make sure it was set to show him her portfolio and playing with the engagement ring.
The door opened, and Carl came in. At forty, he’d already made his millions and bought the spread next door to the Cruz ranch to live out his dreams of being a cowboy. When he’d arrived, everyone laughed at his shiny new boots and string tie, and they’d been angry at the way he bought his place for a song when he could have afforded to pay much more, but no one could turn up their noses at the way he was boosting the local economy with his building projects. And he sure seemed to love Lacey.
“Hi, Claire, how’s it keeping?”
“Hi, Carl. Thanks for meeting me.”
“A man’s got to eat.” He smiled. “Plus I never turn away the chance to spend time with a pretty woman.”
Claire cringed, but kept a smile pasted on her lips. “Would you like to see what I’ve been planning for Jamie’s house? That will give you a chance to see what I can do with a log home.”
“How about we order first, then get down to business.”
She took a breath and willed herself to calm down. She’d done a hundred of these meetings, so why was she acting like she was fresh out of school? “Sure, that sounds great.”
Tracey Richards, the young, blonde waitress, stopped by the table and handed menus to each of them, her high pony-tail swinging. “Should I give you a few minutes?”
“I know what I want,” Carl said. “A BLT, heavy on the mayo, a side of fries and a slice of apple pie.”
“How about you, Claire?”
Tracey had been several classes behind Claire, but she remembered her from high school, and besides, everyone knew everyone in Chance Creek. She scanned the menu. “Tomato soup and grilled cheese for me. Plus coffee when you have a minute.”
Tracey hurried away, came back a moment later with coffee for both of them and hustled off again. Linda’s Diner was a standby in Chance Creek, and was always busy at lunchtime on weekdays.
“All right, show me what you’ve got,” Carl said.
Swallowing another wave of nervousness, Claire slid the laptop over to where he could see the screen and pushed a button. “Here’s a mockup of the interior of the log home Jamie’s building. Of course, it’s nothing compared to the size of yours….”
“I should hope not. I plan to build the biggest house in Chance Creek. Only the best for my bride.”
She wished he didn’t feel the need to talk quite so loudly. The last thing she wanted was a crowd to form around their table. “Of course. I’m sure yours will be twice the size of Jamie’s.”
“Twice? Try four times the size. Ten thousand square feet.”
Ten thousand? With just him and Lacey rattling around in all that space? And the cost to heat it!
Claire composed herself. “That is a big house.” Carl nodded smugly. “Think of what I’m showing you as just a hint of what I could do for you.” She clicked another button. “Here’s the entryway. Notice the slate floors…”
“Everyone has slate floors. I plan to import marble from Bologna—it’s dark, imposing. Just the thing to let everyone know they aren’t dealing with a country bumpkin.”
“Oh, well that sounds nice.” Marble from Bologna? She scrambled to note that down.
“What else you got?” Carl scanned the diner as if he was losing interest already. Claire hurried to show him the next image she’d mocked up.
“Well, here’s the great room…”
“Great room? That looks like a closet to me. My great room’s going to be bigger than Jamie’s whole house. Of course he’s just a hired hand.”
“He’s not just a hired hand,” Claire blazed. “He’s part-owner of the Cruz ranch now.”
“Ah, yes. I heard something about that.”
She bet he did. Carl had tried to buy the ranch out from under them before Jamie saved the day. She had the sudden, uncomfortable feeling that he might be here with her now as an act of revenge, rather than because he really meant to hire her.
“Anyhow, if you’ll look at the furnishings.” She gave herself a mental shake. So what if he didn’t come expecting to become her client? Her presentation ought to speak for itself. Winning him over would be an even bigger victory than the one she’d planned.
“Yes, yes, very nice for Jamie, but you have to understand, Claire, that if you want to work for someone like me you’ll need to play on an entirely different level.” Carl pushed the laptop away as Tracey appeared with their lunches. She set down their plates. “This looks terrific, honey. Thank you.” He took a large bite of his sandwich.
“Thanks, Tracey.” Claire waited until the waitress left. “Look, Carl, I know what you’re saying. I don’t mean that I’d use any of the ideas I’ve used for Jamie on y
our place—I just wanted you to see that I have an eye for style and design. Of course your furnishings and materials will be on a much grander scale, but…”
“What I see is that you have an eye for the safe and pedestrian. Nothing you’ve shown me raises my eyebrows and makes me wonder about the man who owns that house. Nothing impresses me. You’ve designed an average house for an average man, and that’s fine for Jamie Lassiter. But it ain’t fine for me. Carl Whitfield needs a designer with vision. I agreed to this meeting out of courtesy and because I thought I might be able to throw a tip or two your way, but I’ve already decided who I’ll be working with. Daniel Ledstrom of Ledstrom Designs. Now there’s a company with a reputation for fine work.”
“Daniel?” The word came out a squeak. Claire thought fast. “Look, Carl. You’re right—I wasn’t thinking big enough. I knew you were building a large log home, but I had no idea just how large. If you want a spectacular design, I can give you one. I’ll treat you much better than Daniel Ledstrom will.”
Carl sat back. “That’s all well and good, but you’re the sister of my fiancee’s ex-fiance. Do you get my drift? It’s good policy for me to steer clear of you.”
Damn it, this job was slipping away fast. “I know Lacey—I know how she thinks. Daniel Ledstrom doesn’t know you two from Adam. You honestly think he can come up with a plan that will please Lacey as well as I can?” She held her breath—that was a long shot. She and Lacey had never been friends, even when the girl was dating Ethan.
Carl tapped his thick, blunt fingers on the table. “I’m heading to Dallas for the next two months,” he said finally. “The foundation is due to be poured by the time I get back. Let’s say you show me what you’ve got then. I’ll send you over a set of blueprints to work from. You wow me with a plan, and maybe I’ll change my mind.”
It wasn’t much to go on, but it was something. As they shook hands, she vowed right then and there to go him one further. Forget about mockups. Sure, she’d concoct a plan tailored to the Whitfield mansion, but first she’d transform Jamie’s home into a three-dimensional showcase of her talent Carl Whitfield couldn’t ignore.
“Say, you getting married?” Carl asked, lifting her hand so her ring sparkled.
“No,” Claire said, yanking her hand back.
“That looked a lot like an engagement ring,” he said.
“I mean…yes—yes, I’m engaged. Sorry, I’m just so taken by your plans for your house. Tell me more about this imported marble flooring. I really like the sound of it.”
She sighed with relief when Carl launched into the virtues of marble, and seemed to forget all about the ring on her finger. One person in Chance Creek didn’t know about her engagement to Jamie.
She wanted to keep it that way.
Chapter Seven
‡
JAMIE WATCHED THE construction crew swarm over the half-finished roof of his new log home. Perched on a rise of ground overlooking the river, it stood about a mile or so northeast of the Big House, and had a view to kill for. Four bedrooms, three baths, an open plan main floor with the kitchen and dining area only separated from the living room by a flagstone hearth open to either side. South facing windows reaching all the way up to the vaulted ceiling. A home he’d be proud to share with his bride-to-be. If he could get her attention.
And convince her to marry him. A week into July, he didn’t seem any closer to winning her heart.
It was time to move things forward in his plan. While Claire had pored over his blueprints with him and seemed impressed with the design he’d chosen, she’d been all business so far, and no play. They hadn’t even talked about the other half of the job she was supposed to be taking on—helping him plan activities for the guests.
Today that would change. Claire was off courting her first new client—Carl Whitfield. When she returned she was bound to be full of good spirits. Carl must be planning on spending a bundle on that mansion he was building up the road, and who better than Claire to help him decorate it? He’d tell her they should kill two birds with one stone—she could talk all about her plans for Carl’s house, as long as she did so on horseback, while they inspected one of the riding trails.
He wanted to cross Chance Creek Road and venture out into the rangeland northwest of the Big House, where a trail ran past the pastures to rougher territory. He glanced at his watch. She ought to be getting home soon, and everything looked fine here.
“Keep up the good work,” he hollered to Tom Bends, the construction crew’s foreman.
“We’ll have the walls done by the end of the day. The roof should be on later this week.”
It couldn’t happen too soon for him, especially with Claire raring to go on the interior. He was half afraid Carl would beat him to the punch and Claire would end up spending all her time with him, rather than here where she belonged. He knew she wanted the Whitfield contract—bad—but he needed her to focus on the Cruz spread. He had to get her involved in the guest ranch business. Had to make sure she spent enough time near him for his charm to work its magic on her. He knew she wanted him. Heck, she’d jumped him the other night, hadn’t she? And while she’d consumed some champagne, she wasn’t drunk enough to claim it was the alcohol leading her astray.
She wanted him, but she would spook at his slightest move in her direction. Because of her mother and Mack? Maybe. But there was something else, he’d swear to it. Something about this Daniel business that didn’t add up.
Why was she so intent on revenge against the man?
Sure, it was annoying—well, more than annoying—that he would come home after running off with his secretary and expect her to hand the company back over to him. But like she said, it was his company. Should he have compensated her for her work? Yes. Should he have offered her a prime place in the business? Of course. And instead he’d kicked her to the curb, so he could see why she’d be mad. Even furious.
But it wasn’t like she didn’t have enough money to start another company. And it wasn’t like she even cared all that much about interior design.
Did she?
As much as he hated to admit it, he got the feeling she did care about it, and he’d seen she was good at it. But how could she choose interior design over horses? Was she going to lose more years of her life trying to prove Daniel was wrong when she’d already lost so much trying to prove the same thing to her mother and Mack?
Couldn’t she see that in the end she was the only one that got hurt?
He wanted to shake some sense into her. It was time to move on—start enjoying her life. That’s what he’d do. Forget all this interior design stuff, she should get back on horseback—maybe even get back into the rodeo. She’d say she was too old, but plenty of women competed into their thirties, forties and beyond.
He just had to keep her too busy to think until the first guests came to stay at the ranch. Autumn had said something about having a lead. He hoped it panned out and quick. The sooner he could show Claire how rewarding working on the ranch could be, the better.
When he arrived at the Big House, Claire’s Civic was already in the driveway. He prepared his congratulations, but when he walked inside, he was greeted by a disaster area. The blueprints, plans and pages of notes that used to be spread all over the large dining room table now lay every which way across the floor. Claire sat at her laptop, a sketchpad beside her, alternately typing and sketching with frenetic motions.
“Hey—what’s going on?”
She looked up only for a second, dashing her bangs out of her eyes. “He hated it. He said everything I’d done was boring and predictable.”
“That’s bullshit. It was a fantastic design. Carl Whitfield’s an ass.”
“Carl Whitfield’s a millionaire with a mansion that’s sure to end up in the pages of more than one home design magazine. I needed that contract.”
“There’ll be other jobs.”
“Not like this one!” She reared up and pushed the laptop away. “I blew it, Jamie. I
blew my one chance.”
“Claire…”
“No, just shut up. You don’t know anything about interior design or what it takes to be the best. I should be the one to get this contract, but Carl wants to hire Daniel.”
Shit. No wonder she was in such a state. “Look, I know you’re disappointed, but you still have my contract. That’s something, right?”
She turned a look on him that made his skin crawl. “It’s something.” Her face was pinched with anger and worry. “Small and predictable, but something. I have to start over from scratch—make a whole new plan that transforms its predictability into something breathtaking.”
Jamie stiffened. “He called my place small and predictable? Hell, it’s a beautiful house—you said so yourself. And I don’t want you to change anything. I like what you already designed.”
“It’s beautiful for a little shack.” She got back to work, missing his reaction to those stinging words. “Unfortunately, little shacks don’t get you into Western Homes and Gardens, do they? Forget it, I can’t make my name with boring interiors. I’m re-doing the whole plan. Carl’s giving me a second chance. I have two months to show him that I can design something spectacular. I might be taking on the impossible trying to transform your place into something awe-inspiring, but I’m going to do my best.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I came here to ask you to take a ride with me, but I see you’ve got your work cut out for you, trying to salvage my ugly little shack. I guess I’ll leave you to it.”
He walked out and slammed the door.
CLAIRE KNEW SHE should go after him and apologize, but she didn’t have time. Besides, he was still keeping up this proposal farce, so didn’t have much sympathy for him.
Not that she was getting anywhere with her revenge. Instead of finding ways to torture Jamie, she’d spent every waking moment getting back at Daniel, instead. Jamie would get over her slight against his house. She’d come up with a new plan that would knock his socks off. Then when Carl came home she’d walk him through Jamie’s house and wow him with what she’d done.