“She warned me.”
“This isn’t personal.” He sounded defensive. “I’m only trying to protect her.”
“As you should,” she agreed. “If I weren’t your target, I’d say your chivalry is sweet even if it’s...misguided. But this isn’t the first time it’s happened to me. I know it won’t be the last.”
“You’re resigned to that.”
“Annoyed by it, too. But what am I going to do?”
Nothing she’d done so far had changed people’s opinion of her. But that hadn’t stopped her from trying. From working the worst shifts at the animal hospital to busting her butt doing whatever Gertie asked, Becca had wanted to earn people’s respect, to be...accepted for who she was now. Not who she’d been before.
“You could move out of Idaho,” he said.
“I’m far enough away from my parents as it is.”
“Family is important to you.”
“It’s all I’ve got.”
“Me, too,” he said.
A warm look passed between them. Becca found herself getting lost in Caleb’s eyes. What was going on? She never expected to have anything in common with Caleb. Well, except for liking chocolate cake and Gertie. But he was more complicated and different from what Becca expected.
“Grams told me you’ve been working on a revised business plan. Did you bring it with you?” he asked.
“Business plan?” She blinked at the sudden change of topic. “I have it. But I didn’t think you were still going to advise us.”
“Why not?”
“You only agreed because you had doubts about me.”
“That’s true.”
Her heart fell. Spilling her guts hadn’t changed anything. She shouldn’t feel as disappointed as she did. “You still have doubts.”
“I told my grandmother I would help her,” he said. “I’m not going back on my word.”
She respected Caleb for being a man of his word, especially when his agreeing had meant so much to Gertie. But he hadn’t denied still having doubts about Becca.
That had happened before.
It would happen again.
But she was surprised how much it hurt now.
* * *
Caleb was wrong about Becca.
Wrong about her motives. Wrong about her past.
He loosened his tie.
Caleb had misjudged her. Completely.
What she’d said about struggling after getting out of prison jibed with the private investigator’s report. She’d admitted her father had spent time in jail, too.
Her education and experience wouldn’t give her the knowledge to pull off a big financial scam. Though he couldn’t deny the possibility of a theft on a smaller scale.
He glanced up from Becca’s business plan.
In her teal suit, standing by one of his bookcases, she looked like a consultant. Professional. Knowledgable. A world apart from the woman he’d met in his grandmother’s backyard.
But whether dressed to the nines or in bright orange prison garb, she was the same woman. A woman eager to rebuild her life. A woman he found himself wanting to learn more and more about.
Her story about Whit sounded all too plausible to Caleb. He knew guys like that, his father was like that, his experience with Cassandra had been like that.
Becca was most likely exactly what she seemed to be—a hopeful dog whisperer who was caught up in one of his grandmother’s schemes through no fault of her own.
Moving a foot away from him, Becca pulled out a book, read the inside flap, then placed it back on the shelf. She did the same with another.
Con artists, like his Cassandra, were good at sob stories, but Becca seemed too genuine, her behavior too natural and awkward and uncomplicated. She didn’t appear to be a threat, but he’d deal with her if that changed.
For now, Caleb would go along with his grandmother’s gamble. A part of him admired Becca. That was rare.
But he still had to be careful for all their sakes.
“You’re welcome to borrow any of the books,” he said.
“Is there one you’d recommend?”
“Strategic Marketing and Branding.”
Becca touched each of the book spines with her fingertip, searching for the title. She pulled one out. “Here it is.”
“You know the market and the industry, but having a thought out branding strategy can make all the difference,” he explained. “The book will be a good introduction to the buzzwords and approaches being used.”
She studied the front cover. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He thought she would walk back toward his desk. She didn’t. Instead she kept looking at the items on the shelves.
“The USS Essex.” Becca studied one of the small replicas of aircraft carriers. “Gertie has a larger version of this in her collection.”
“Gramps was assigned to the USS Essex during the Korean War. He fell in love with aircraft carriers. Grams used to give him the models on special occasions.”
“What a wonderful gift.” Becca bent to take a closer look at the shelf containing the models. Her skirt rose in the back, showing off her firm thighs. “The USS Vinson.”
His groin tightened. He tried not to stare. “Yes.”
“I’ve seen that one, too.” She straightened. “Your grandfather had large replicas at home and small models here at the office?”
“The smaller ones are mine.”
She glanced his way. “Yours?”
He nodded, a part of him wishing she could be his tonight.
Whoa. Where had that come from?
He’d been working too hard if his mind was going...there.
Grams hadn’t mentioned if Becca had a boyfriend, but Caleb imagined she did. A man who thought nothing of carrying lint rollers, doggy treats and poop bags wherever he went.
Someone totally opposite to Caleb.
He couldn’t keep a plant alive, let alone be responsible for a pet. It wouldn’t be fair to a dog or cat or fish.
Not that he wanted a girlfriend. He dated when he had time, but kept things...light. It was easier that way, given his schedule.
He secured her pages with a binder clip. “Excellent work on the business plan.”
A smile tugged at her lips. He waited for one to explode and light up her face. The right corner lifted another quarter of inch before shooting back into place as if she’d realized she was going five miles per hour over the speed limit and needed to slow down before getting pulled over.
She smiled for Grams, but not him.
That bothered Caleb. He wanted a smile.
Becca bit her lip, gnawing at it like a piece of jerky, a stale piece. “I don’t think it’s ever going to be ready.”
“Iterative process, remember?”
She shrugged.
Ah-ha. A perfectionist. Caleb had a couple on his staff—hard workers—but their never-satisfied, not-good-enough tendencies made end-of-the-quarter more stressful. “What you’ve done so far is pretty impressive.”
Something—pride, maybe?—flashed in her eyes. But the same wariness from before quickly took over. “You think?”
He nodded. “It’s obvious you’ve been working hard revising the drafts.”
“That’s what Gertie pays me to do.”
“You’re doing it very well.” He would have known that if he’d listened to his grandmother instead of telling her to fire her consultant. He was sure Grams wouldn’t let him forget that, either.
Becca straightened, as if he’d finally gotten her attention. Or she liked what he’d said.
“There are a few areas where you’ll need to do more research,” he added.
“Manufacturing, for sure. And the pro
duct containers are giving me a real headache.” She was one step ahead of him. “Everything is priced based on quantity. Making that initial order seems to be based on magic.”
“A Magic 8 Ball, actually.”
“You’re...” Her gaze narrowed. “Kidding.”
“Had you going for a minute,” he teased.
Amusement gleamed in her eyes. “Twenty seconds tops.”
“Forty at least.”
Her smile burst across her face like the sun at dawn.
He couldn’t breathe.
“Thirty,” she said playfully. “Not a nanosecond longer.”
With her eyes bright and her face glowing, she looked...gorgeous. It was his turn to speak, but Caleb didn’t know what to say. All he could do was stare.
She studied him. “Have you ever consulted a Magic 8 Ball?”
“No, but my sister Courtney had one. Swore it worked.”
“And you kidded her about that.”
“I’m her older brother. Of course I did.”
“I’m not surprised,” Becca said. “You’re not the kind of person who leaves things up to chance, let alone a fortune-telling game.”
Interesting observation and dead-on. “Why do you say that?”
She motioned to the books on the shelf. “The business books mixed in with military ones. Strategy. War. That suggests you like to be prepared. Know what you’re up against. Have a solid plan and an exit strategy. You take a tactical approach. At least you did with me.”
“I may have had some bad intel.”
“It happens.”
She didn’t sound upset. That was a relief. “You’re observant.”
Becca lifted one shoulder. “I keep my eyes open so I know what’s going on.”
A lesson learned. No doubt because of what had happened to her when she was younger. Caleb was the same way thanks to Cassandra. Interesting that he and Becca had been used in similar ways. Though hers had been much worse. “It’s not good being caught off-guard.”
“Nope.” She motioned to the other shelf with his memorabilia. “Was the flag your grandfather’s?”
“Yes. From his funeral.”
She pointed to one of the photographs. “Who’s this?”
Caleb crossed the office, picked up a framed photo of him with Ty Dooley. “My best friend since third grade. He’s in the navy.”
“The two of you look like you could be brothers.”
“Ty’s like a brother.” He was living the dream for both of them. Right now Ty was downrange somewhere classified. Caleb couldn’t wait to see him again. “We planned on being in the navy together.”
A grin spread across her face. “You wanted to follow in your grandfather’s footsteps.”
Caleb’s muscles tensed. He’d never told anyone that except Ty. Becca guessing that made Caleb feel stripped bare and vulnerable. He didn’t like it. He nodded once.
She studied him, her gaze sharp and assessing. “Military service is honorable, but you’re following in your grandfather’s footsteps by being Fair Face’s CEO.”
True, but Caleb felt no satisfaction. He’d wanted to be the kind of man his grandfather had been and nothing like his father.
Becca pointed to another photograph of Caleb with itty-bitty-bikini-clad supermodels clinging to him. “Most men would kill to be in your position.”
He wasn’t “most men.”
The decision to run Fair Face had never been his to make. His worthless father hadn’t wanted anything to do with the family company. To say that everything had fallen to Caleb was an understatement. He’d had to grow up fast. “What’s the saying...? The grass is always greener.”
“I wouldn’t have expected that kind of longing from you.”
Of course she wouldn’t. But this—he glanced around the office—was never who he’d expected to be growing up. He’d dreamed about being a navy SEAL for as long as he could remember. Not the CEO of a skin-care company. “I’m sure there’s something you wanted to be when you were growing up.”
Becca nodded. “A vet. But I was a kid then. Very naive about how the world worked.”
“Me, too,” he said. “But that’s what being a kid is all about. Dreaming of doing what sounds cool without understanding our places in the world.”
“Too bad you couldn’t trade jobs with your friend Ty for a week. Bet he’d enjoy hanging with supermodels while you swabbed decks on a ship or sub.”
Caleb nearly laughed. An M4 rifle was more likely to be found in his best friend’s hands, not a mop. Ty was one of the elite special ops guys, a navy SEAL, stationed in Virginia Beach on a Tier One team. Caleb would love a taste of Ty’s life. “Fun idea, but I doubt I’d like swabbing decks.”
“So you’re more into adventure,” she said. “Bet you’d like Special Forces kind of stuff. Best-of-the-best kind of thing.”
Caleb didn’t understand how she kept nailing him. He moved away from her. “What guy wouldn’t?”
“Some might not, given the danger and risk involved, but I can see why it would appeal to you.”
“Why is that?”
She tilted her chin. “The leadership skills you’ve honed as CEO would be useful even if the arena was different. Teamwork, too. No more profit margins, but life-or-death stakes. Kick-ass missions that would be more stressful than anything you’ve dealt with, but exciting due to the physical and mental challenges. You’d be surrounded by smart people. I’d assume someone who wasn’t intelligent wouldn’t last long, but in corporate America brainpower doesn’t appear to be a prerequisite for rising to the top. At least here at Fair Face.”
She might lack business experience, but she had what Grams would call gumption. “Not liking my grandmother’s dog products doesn’t mean employees here are stupid.”
“Liking the products would prove they were smart.” Becca stared at the photo of him and Ty again. “I think the real draw to your friend’s lifestyle is loyalty. To the country, the service, your teammates. Heaven knows, you’re loyal to your family.”
Caleb couldn’t move. Breathe. Blink.
How did she know this about him? A woman he’d known less than a week. One he’d underestimated.
“I suppose being in the navy would be more interesting work than sitting in meetings all day wondering what SPF of sunscreen would sell best,” she added.
He found himself nodding.
“My only question is if joining the navy was so important to you, why didn’t you enlist?” she asked.
“My family. Fair Face,” he admitted. “They needed me.”
“You wouldn’t have been in the navy forever.”
“No, but I was needed here. What I wanted to do...” He glanced at the photograph of Ty and him. “It was secondary.”
Her eyes softened. “You love your family.”
“Everyone loves their family.”
“Not everyone would sacrifice their dreams.”
Caleb shrugged, but the last thing he felt was indifference. He rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He glanced at his watch, more out of habit than anything else. “It’s getting late. I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Thanks, but that’s not necessary,” she said, a hint of a tremor in her voice. “My car is at the Park & Ride lot. I rode the bus into downtown.”
“You took the bus?”
“Gas is expensive.”
His grandmother had to be paying her a bundle, plus providing a free place for her to stay. Not to mention her job at the animal hospital. “You can’t have money trouble.”
She glared at him.
Forget daggers—Becca was firing mortar in his direction.
He turned his hands palms up. “What?”
“I never said I
couldn’t afford it.” Becca shot him a get-a-clue look. “Why should I want to waste my hard-earned cash to drive into town so you could try to get me fired?”
Stubborn. She also looked cute when she was angry. “Saving money is always good, especially when there’s a motive or desire behind it. My grandfather taught me to save for a rainy day.”
“Rain, thunderstorm, monsoon.” Her fingers tightened around the strap of her messenger bag. “You never know what the future holds.”
Caleb’s life proved that was true.
“It’s best to be prepared for anything.” Well, almost anything. He hadn’t been prepared for Becca. He should drive her home and see how deep her stubbornness ran. He shoved his laptop into his bag. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
CHAPTER SIX
WALKING ACROSS THE lobby of Fair Face’s corporate headquarters, footsteps echoing on the tiled floor and questions swirling through her brain, Becca eyed the man next to her.
Caleb Fairchild looked like the perfect CEO in his gray suit—acted like one, too—but underneath the pinstripes was another man. A man who dreamed of adventure. A man who longed to serve his country. A man who sacrificed those dreams for his family.
Becca wondered if he ever let that side of himself show to anyone except his best friend. She would like to see it.
She’d been immune to pretty faces, charming smiles, killer eyes since the judge dropped the gavel in the courthouse in Twin Falls, Idaho. She went on occasional dates with working-class guys and cowboy types to have a little fun, but she always kept things casual. She was afraid of being burned again. She hadn’t met anyone she’d wanted to get closer to. Getting closer to a guy made her vulnerable, a way she didn’t like feeling.
Not that she wanted to get close to Caleb. But she had to admit the guy interested her. In a way she hadn’t been interested in...well, forever. That was...a problem.
Her parents had a great marriage in spite of their financial struggles. But Becca knew finding a man who could accept her and her past wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe that was why she hadn’t been looking too hard to find “the one.”
They passed another employee who was staying late that evening. Caleb greeted him by name, the third in the past five minutes. “I hope you know how impressed we all were with those new label designs, Anthony. Great work.”
The Man Behind the Pinstripes Page 8
