High Heels and Haystacks: Billionaires in Blue Jeans, book two

by Erin Nicholas

  She liked that in another person.

  There were things about Parker she didn’t like, of course. How he was completely rude to her every time she came over here to borrow eggs. How he called her “Boss” in a really sarcastic tone of voice. The way he seemed to think that her being a dismal failure in the kitchen was pretty funny. And the way that whenever he looked at her, he seemed to know more than she wanted him to.

  Oh, and the way her face got hot whenever she happened to catch him bending over in his kitchen. The man had an effect on her libido that she was still unaccustomed to. She dated handsome men, men who knew how to dress and always smelled good. Which made her reaction to a guy who wore blue jeans and T-shirts that were often covered in food of various types, who shaved every third day or so, and who smelled like bacon and pancake syrup very strange. But she couldn’t deny that there was something about this man that kicked her pulse up a few beats per minute.

  And she liked that he had never once complimented her.

  She almost frowned as that thought went through her mind. That sounded strange. But it was true. She was used to compliments from men. Those she dated and those she did business with. But she never fully trusted them. There were reasons for those men to compliment her that went far beyond simple courtesy or even to make her feel good. They all wanted to be on her good side.

  Parker didn’t care about her good side. And he’d never said anything nice to her.

  And she trusted him because of it.

  “I have a life outside of this diner,” Parker said, in answer to her question about how he spent his time between shifts. “I have things to do.”

  “Things like what?”

  He frowned at her. “Why don’t you just tell me what you think we need to discuss?” he asked.

  “Fine. We need to talk about your employment at Blissfully Baked.” She barely resisted wincing as she said the name of her pie shop. She didn’t care what anyone said, it sounded like a place to buy pot.

  “You can’t fire me, Boss,” Parker said. “And you know it.”

  She did. The employment agreement he’d signed with Rudy said that the only way for Parker to be removed from the Blissfully Baked payroll was for him to quit, die, or go to prison. He’d been put into place to help with the time in between Rudy’s death and the girls getting to Bliss, but the intention was also for him to take the shop over after the girls met their twelve-month obligation and, supposedly, returned to New York.

  “Oh, well, I don’t want to fire you,” she said. In fact, if he did quit, her whole plan would go to hell. “The opposite actually.”

  “What’s that mean?” He looked highly suspicious.

  “I want you to step up and actually do the job.”

  He glanced at the other table, then back to her. “I’ve got customers. Can’t talk about whatever this is right now.”

  Ava glanced at the other table as well, then back up at Parker. “What are the chances of me taking that weak excuse and leaving you alone, do you suppose?”

  He sighed. He did that a lot around her. “Poor.”

  “Exactly.” She slid out of the booth and stood. She smoothed her skirt and stepped around him.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. He didn’t try to stop her, but he looked wary and curious.

  Ava bit back a smile. “Helping.”

  * * *

  Parker watched Ava approach the table where the Wilsons sat, finishing their lunch, her heels clicking over his tile floor. Those damned shoes made him crazy. And not just the three-inch black ones she wore today. The shoes she wore every damned day. She had heels on no matter what she was doing. And not a single pair was practical in the least for anything anyone did in Bliss, Kansas. Except for drawing attention. And that they did very well.

  But he didn’t want her to take them off.

  Damn, he’d never been a shoe guy before. He was fairly certain he’d never noticed what his dates wore on their feet. But with Ava Carmichael, her heels were as much a part of her as the long blonde hair and the I’m-out-of-your-league attitude.

  “Hello,” she greeted the Wilsons, giving them a smile. “I’m Ava. I own the pie shop next door.”

  Parker had no idea what she was up to. “Helping” was pretty vague and definitely made him suspicious. But he didn’t move to stop her. He had a feeling he wanted to see this. And she wanted him to step up and do his job at the pie shop next door? Yeah, he was going to hear her out about that too. And not just because there wasn’t a chance in hell that she was going to let it go. He was curious about what, exactly, she thought his job over there was.

  “Of course. Hello,” Cindy Wilson said. “We’ve been meaning to stop in.”

  Uh-huh. Not a lot of people in Bliss were stopping over at the pie shop. The girls had hosted a great public event just two weeks ago to introduce themselves, and their pie, to the town. The turnout had been decent. But the Carmichael triplets were new to town and they were redoing the pie shop, and one thing people in Bliss didn’t get excited about was change.

  “That would be lovely,” Ava told her graciously. “Ask for me and I’ll give you a discount on your first slice.”

  “That’s very nice,” Cindy said, glancing at her husband, Brandon, and their son, Kyle, who was now steak-less.

  “I look forward to seeing you,” Ava said to them all. “But right now, I need to ask you to leave.”

  Parker felt his eyebrows rise and he crossed his arms, waiting to see how this would play out.

  “I’m…sorry?” Cindy gave her a puzzled look.

  “It’s after one p.m.,” Ava said, looking pointedly at her watch. “The diner closes for the afternoon from one until four. And while Parker has always been very lenient about that rule, I’m going to have to insist it’s more closely observed since he’s now going to be working for me at the pie shop during those hours.”

  Parker resisted the urge to laugh at that. Well, that was one way of filling him in on her plan. And making it so he couldn’t yell at her right away.

  She didn’t even glance in his direction.

  “Oh. He is?” Cindy asked. She did look over at Parker.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard that baking isn’t my forte,” Ava said with a surprisingly self-deprecating smile. And the Wilsons all smiled with her. Parker rolled his eyes. She could be charming, he’d give her that.

  “So, I desperately need help,” Ava went on. “And it’s going to be his pie shop soon.”

  Well, that’s what Rudy’s trust said. But Parker had been wondering what was going to happen with the pie shop now that Ava’s sister Cori had fallen in love with Evan and had decided to stay in Bliss. Ava was an utter failure in the kitchen—and he had a number of theories about why—but Cori was magical with an oven. If she wanted to bake pies for a living, she’d be amazing at it.

  “So we’re going to use his recipes and techniques, we’re going to update the menu, and really give it Parker’s touch,” Ava was explaining.

  “Well, then we’ll get out of your way.” Cindy looked up at Parker. “You’re so sweet to let us take our time, but you have work to do.”

  “Unlike how I usually spend my days,” he muttered. He knew Ava was the only one to hear him.

  The Wilsons all slid out of the booth, and Kyle headed for the register to pay.

  Parker joined him there, not giving Ava the satisfaction of any reaction to her announcement about his new duties next door.

  “Didn’t know you knew about pie,” Kyle said as he tucked his wallet back into his pocket.

  “That pie shop has been one surprise after another for everyone,” Parker replied, shutting the register drawer.

  Kyle nodded. “Looking forward to what you’re going to do over there.”

  “Are you?” Parker was surprised at that.

  “Sure. You’ve never done dessert, but you’re a hell of a cook. Guessing your pies will be awesome.”

  Huh. He was fantastic at pies, as a matter of
fact. But no one but his mother knew that.

  Ava followed the Wilsons to the door and as it bumped shut she turned the lock, then flipped the sign to CLOSED.

  2

  There.” She faced Parker. “Now about your job at the pie shop. I’d like your new duties to start today.”

  “You are…”

  Ava lifted an eyebrow.

  “Something,” he finally finished. Then he turned away from her and shut the coffeepot off and started wiping the counter.

  He knew she was waiting for some kind of blow up, or argument, or at least a what in the hell are you talking about? And he knew that it would drive her crazy for him not to give her any of that.

  Ava went back to her table and grabbed her notebook, then boosted herself up on one of the stools at the counter and said, “I’m going to overlook the past three months of paying you for doing nothing. We’ll just start from today.”

  She was definitely something. He just didn’t have a word for it. He’d never met a woman like Ava Carmichael. Most of the women in and around Bliss were sweet and accommodating and seemed to want him to be happy and in a good mood when he was with them. Ava didn’t give one fuck about if he was happy or about his mood. As evidenced by the fact that she continually did things that made him scowl and grumble.

  “Or we could say those paychecks covered all the stuff you’ve been stealing from me for the past three and a half months,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes. “Borrowing.”

  “Borrowing?” he repeated. “I haven’t seen any payment or replacement of any of those items.”

  “I’ll buy you a dozen eggs and a bag of sugar next trip to the grocery store.”

  “First, you don’t go to the grocery store. Second, that isn’t even close to what you owe me.”

  “Well, it’s not like I’ve been counting every egg.”

  Okay then. Parker headed for the kitchen and the corkboard he had up on the wall next to the pantry.

  She kept talking. “And how do you know I don’t go to the grocery store?”

  He came back through the door and handed her a piece of paper. “Because Mr. Tomkins noticed that I was buying a lot more eggs and butter than usual and he guessed it was for you. He also told me that they teased you when you came in there three times in one day and that he hadn’t seen you since.”

  Ava blew out a breath as she looked at the paper. “They shouldn’t do that. It’s not good for business to make fun of your customers.”

  Parker grinned at that. He was sure that Ava was not only not used to being teased, but she probably wasn’t used to an entire town knowing—and caring about—every move she made. He couldn’t deny he enjoyed watching this gorgeous fish out of water. He didn’t know why except that it was fun to see a woman who was so confident and put together, and who obviously kicked ass in New York City, rattled a bit by a simple little town that had three stoplights and whose biggest news was the reopening of a pie shop that had four items on its menu.

  She looked down at the paper he’d handed her and he watched her eyes widen. It was an itemized list of the food she’d “borrowed” from his kitchen.

  He didn’t actually care about the butter and eggs. What bugged him about her pilfering was the way she walked into his kitchen at random times and made it impossible to not watch as she bent over to rummage in his fridge. If her shoes made him crazy, her sweet ass in her tight skirts jacked his blood pressure up to dangerous levels.

  She looked up again. “Okay, so we’ll call the last three months even?”

  “Fine.” He began gathering the salt and pepper shakers from around the restaurant, knowing that not having his full focus would bug her.

  But truthfully, she had every bit of his attention. He refilled salt and pepper shakers by rote anyway, and Ava couldn’t be within ten feet of him without his entire system going on high alert.

  It was annoying as hell.

  “The income at the pie shop is just now inching up,” she told him. “After the Parking With Pie event Cori threw, we got the bank loan paid off. But you know that we have to turn a profit by the end of our first twelve months according to Rudy’s trust. So, we need a better product. So, I need you to make the pies.”

  “No fucking way.” He set the tray of salt and pepper shakers on the counter in front of her.

  “The pies have to get better, Parker,” she said, not the least bit deterred by his answer. Of course, negotiating and making deals was what she did for a living. “We both know our current process was just a stop gap to get the shop back open.”

  “You mean the process where you don’t actually make the pies?” Parker asked.

  “I do make them,” Ava protested. “I fill the crusts and bake them.”

  Which still, somehow, didn’t turn out well. She bought the crusts from a lady in the next town and used canned pie filling and they still sucked. It drove Parker crazy, because he knew Ava’s approach had not been what Rudy intended when he’d put her in charge of the pies. But the will didn’t say how she had to make the pies. Just that she had to be the one doing it.

  “But that doesn’t matter,” she said, waving that away. “I have to make a change. People aren’t buying the pies.” She took a deep breath. “They’re not buying my pies.”

  Parker glanced up, hearing something in her tone. She looked chagrined, and for just a second he softened. She was right. The pies offered at the pie shop were the ones Ava made. They had to be. The trust stipulated that her sisters couldn’t help her in the kitchen—she had to do it herself. So if the pies weren’t good, that was all on Ava. She was failing to make money at something that was her full responsibility. That had probably never happened to her before.

  But Parker knew that Rudy had intended for each of the girls to learn something from the jobs he’d given them, so Parker brushed off the softness he’d felt for a moment there.

  He started pouring salt from a bigger container into the shakers. “I’m not making the pies for you, Boss.”

  “But people will not only trust you to make good ones, the fact that you’ve always refused to serve dessert in here will make them curious and bring them in.”

  She had a point there. “Too bad.”

  “We need good pie, Parker. You’re the best option to make that happen.”

  “But you’re supposed to make the pies and you know it.” He pointed a finger at her. “Dammit, Ava, if you don’t do what you’re supposed to do, I get stuck as the CFO of Carmichael Enterprises. So you can come over here in your short skirts and high heels and bat those big blue eyes at me all you want—that is not going to happen.”

  Those blue eyes widened and he mentally kicked himself. He didn’t need to let on that he’d noticed all of that. He needed to concentrate on making her fulfill all of the requirements needed to keep him out of New York City.

  As crazy as it was, the will stipulated that if the girls refused, or failed, to meet all of the stipulations for their inheritance, Evan, Parker, and Noah would be named CEO, CFO, and VP of Carmichael Enterprises respectively.

  And Parker and his friends wanted nothing to do with running a multi-billion-dollar worldwide conglomerate in a huge city fifteen hundred miles away. Hell, he didn’t even know what exactly a CFO did. He, Evan and Noah all had the lives they wanted to have right here in their hometown. Parker’s father had brought their family to Bliss from Chicago with the sole purpose of finding a simpler, safer, happier way of life. Parker had no intention of changing anything about it. But he knew that Rudy had put that plan B in his trust because he knew it would motivate the guys to make sure the girls did what they were supposed to do.

  Ava leaned in, resting her forearms on the counter and linking her fingers. “I’ve been over the trust with a fine-tooth comb. It says nothing about me making everything from scratch or by myself. Only that I have to be in charge of the product and the kitchen at the pie shop. I can’t help Cori and Brynn with the business or PR efforts, and they can’t
help me with the pies. But it doesn’t say that I can’t have any help.”

  Parker shook his head. No. She wasn’t talking him into this. “Your dad wanted you to learn what it was like to actually make the product you sell.” He started replacing the lids on the salt shakers.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not selling much product at all. That’s the problem.”

  “It’s because you’re half-assing it,” Parker told her bluntly. “And having me do it for you is also half-assing it.”

  She sighed. “You’re right.”

  Parker looked up quickly, surprised by her agreement.

  “I have been. But that has to change,” she added. “I thought this would be easier. But the shop has to be successful for me to get back to New York and my real job. Which means I have to give one hundred percent.”

  Yeah, only another eight and a half months of dealing with going hard in the middle of the day when walking into his kitchen to find her raiding his pantry. Only another eight and a half months of smelling her perfume in the air of that pantry for what felt like hours after she’d left. Only another eight and a half months of hearing things crashing against the shared wall between their kitchens and listening to her swearing like a sailor. And finding himself laughing in the middle of flipping burgers. Thank God that was all temporary.

  “So start giving one hundred percent.” He started on the pepper shakers.

  “I am. I’m giving one hundred percent to finding the best way to make this happen,” she said. “And that’s you.”

  Parker kept filling the pepper shakers. “Your dad begged me to make him pie. He even offered me a million dollars—which I thought was a joke at the time—to make him pie. And I still wouldn’t do it.”