***
For the last half hour, Jake had been captivated by the appealing woman he'd been unable to dismiss from his mind. Smart. Funny. Independent. If her resume was legit, Jenna was seriously qualified for the position he would likely offer her. But something about her didn't add up. Though she seemed unflappable . . . it was in a weary, seen-it-all sort of way. She was mysterious. Wary. But . . . of what? So many questions . . . wrapped in a dangerously appealing package he might have trouble resisting.
Wincing at the strength of Alex' voice, he set a glass on each placemat. "Your sister's right, Sport. My mom always told me no elbows on the table." His statement was met with complete silence as two pairs of eyes swiveled their full attention to him. As they continued to stare, Jake understood what a specimen under a microscope might feel like.
Without taking his gaze from him, the little boy removed his elbows from the table. Still staring, Alex rewarded him with a gap-toothed grin. "Yes, sir."
The heady aroma of pepperoni and fresh basil made his stomach grumble, the dinnertime commotion more appealing than he'd expected. Jen's house reminded him of meals at his sister's house– nice and laidback and loud. Or even further back, his parents' place– when they'd still been together. Memories of those dinners– always seated next to Jeff. Andrea across the table. More often than not, Harry had been there, too. His mom had taken in their cousin as though he was another son.
His dad always talking Specialty business. Mom jumping up to refill plates. It was probably crazy to miss something like noise, but these days he rarely saw his extended family outside of work. Even after an endlessly long day, retreating to a silent, half-furnished townhouse had its drawbacks. Since taking over Specialty– assuring Linc he wouldn't let him down, Jake's life had revolved around the business. But after ten months of fifteen hour days, he was beginning to understand why his parents' marriage had broken up.
"Can you tuck me under the table so I don't spill anything?"
The high-pitched voice jarred him from his thoughts. "Sure thing."
Alex eyed him expectantly. "My mom's always tellin' me I make the biggest mess when we eat."
He glanced at Megan. "Is that true?"
Though she hadn't spoken yet, she nodded in agreement. Jake acknowledged the stark contrast between them. Meg was quiet and serious like her mother. Stepping closer, he lifted Alex's chair, pushing him under the table. "That close enough for you?"
"Yes, sir. Are you stayin' for supper? We're havin' pizza."
Jake's ears rang as the little boy's shouted request reverberated off the dining room walls. His deadly quiet condo flashed before his eyes– suddenly appealing. He was fairly certain the neighbors could hear Alex bellowing in their kitchen next door.
"Kids, Mr. Traynor is having dinner with us. Try to remember your manners." Jenna appeared, motioning for him to sit. "What would you like to drink?"
He pulled out a chair. "Anything is-"
"You can't sit there! That's Mommy's seat."
He startled, the chair still frozen in his grip. "Sorry, Sport. Where should I sit?"
"Mr. Traynor is our guest." Shooting him an apologetic glance, she advanced on her son. "He can sit wherever he'd like." Rounding the table, she paused to stare at Alex. "And lower your voice."
Cautiously, Jake tried again, moving to the empty seat near Megan. Glancing at Alex for approval, the little boy nodded vigorously. Jenna smothered a chuckle as she stepped into the kitchen.
"About that drink?"
"Whatever you're having," he assured before turning to field a question from Alex.
" Do you have lots of money, Jake? Your truck is ginormous." He dragged out the syllables for emphasis. "My friend Tyler's daddy is really rich. They have three cars . . . and a boat."
"Al-" Jenna's groan reached his ears from the kitchen.
"We only have Lulu." Alex's exasperated sigh was comical. "Tyler has cool toys, too."
"Of course, he's rich," Megan responded. "Because he smells really good."
"Thanks, Megan." Laughter choking him, Jake resisted, afraid they might stop talking if he laughed. Inquisitive, blue eyes stared at him from one of the cutest, freckled faces he'd ever seen.
"When I decide to like a boy . . . he's gonna smell like you."
"You can't do that." Alex swiveled to the kitchen. "Mommy," he yelled. "Meggie can't like boys . . . can she?"
Jake raised his napkin to his mouth, unable to hold back his smile. "I think she's talking a few years down the road, Sport."
When Meg unleashed an appreciative smile on him, something in his chest tightened. Shyness warring with her desire to question him, she hesitated. "Do you have any kids?"
Jenna returned from the kitchen, embarrassed, yet still composed amid the chaos. His smile tugged wider. "No, but I'm in the market for a few. Are you two for sale?"
"Yes," Jen piped in, amusement shimmering in eyes so pretty he found it difficult to look away. Jake acknowledged he would have to concentrate on not staring. "I could give you a deal on two for one."
Alex' laugh was gleeful. "Mommy says we're really expensive."
A moment later, the little guy toppled his milk. Thankfully, he'd already slurped up half the glass. As though by magic, a roll of paper towels appeared. Jenna began mopping up the flood before it reached the edge of the table.
Three for three, he realized. Her predictions had all come true– in the first ten minutes. Reaching for the salad bowl, he helped Megan heap greens on her plate, smiling when she requested nearly a dozen cucumber slices. Observing the happy family, Jake realized he couldn't wait to see what surprises the next hour would yield. After she mopped up the spill, Jenna passed him a beer.
"By the time dinner is over, you'll probably be glad you have this."
***
"So, would you be interested if I said there's a position opening up?" Finally able to broach the topic he'd stopped by to discuss, Jake set their plates on the counter while Jenna wrapped leftover pizza. Her back to him, he heard the catch of surprise she tried to hide.
It had been one of the most entertaining dinners he'd experienced in the last six months. Jenna's kids were funny, curious and sweet. But even they had eventually tired of their rapid-fire questions for the stranger at the table. Before heading upstairs for cartoons, Alex had coerced him into promising to show him all the construction equipment in Specialty's yard.
Though her expression was neutral when she turned, the gorgeous blue eyes flashed with interest. "What would the job entail?"
"I'm looking for a hybrid of a project assistant and an engineer."
Disappointment flashed over her features as she ripped a sheet of foil from the box. "I should tell you . . . I never finished my engineering degree."
Jake wondered why. She struck him as the type of person who kept at something until it was done.
Eyes averted, she set the pizza in the refrigerator. "In one of my brighter moves, I quit school with a year left to go."
"Did something happen at home?" When a fleeting sadness crossed her face, he wished he could retract the question.
"No– just . . . a bad decision. My husband-" Jen faced him as he leaned against the counter.
"You quit to get married," he filled in the blank.
"At the time, it sounded romantic." Her sigh was one of frustration. "I found out later what it really meant. At work, I'd train the kids just out of school." She moved to the sink to attack the pile of dishes. "The new grads couldn't even read a set of blueprints. But a year later, I was working for them instead of the other way around."
"Well, that wouldn't be the case here," he responded. "You'd be working with me," he emphasized. Following her into the dining room, Jake cautioned himself. He liked her personality. Her calm. He could envision them working well together. She would bring order to his workload– which was on the verge of exploding. She'd be a real asset. But she was also something of a mystery. He needed to give the idea some time. Bring her in
for an interview. Maybe let Harry and Jeff meet her– and then talk him down. "I've reviewed your resume. You have great experience."
Her guarded expression flashed with hope. "I would definitely be interested in continuing the conversation."
He nodded. "I'll check my calendar in the morning and see if we can set something up in the next day or two." Though she tried, Jenna couldn't hide her eagerness. Offered a full on smile, Jake's stupid heartbeat accelerated. Jesus– this one was dangerous. Time to make an escape, he decided, surprised by the twinge of reluctance. If he hired her, he'd have to get his act together. She'd be off-limits. Hell, she already was off-limits. She’s married, idiot. "I should probably be going."
"Thanks for having dinner with us. You were really patient with Alex and Meg."
"They're great kids. I enjoyed it." He trailed her to the foyer, appreciating the companionable silence. "Your jacket's still in my truck."
"I'll walk out with you."
Stepping out into the sultry night, Jake paused on the walkway, admiring a riotous spill of petunias overflowing from a planter on the step. Though she hadn't lived there long, Jenna had clearly placed her stamp on the little house. The blanket of humidity was suddenly broken by a rare breeze. If he'd owned a porch swing, this would be the night to sit in it. Jenna followed him onto the stoop, leaning against the storm door while he retrieved her jacket. Light from the kitchen filtered through the glass door behind her, shimmering through her long, red-gold waves.
"Jake– I just want to thank you again. For rescuing me. For driving me home." She shrugged. "For driving over here tonight because I forgot my jacket. You've been very kind."
"It was nothing-" His stomach did a strange flip when she smiled.
"It wasn't nothing," she insisted. "So, even if you ultimately decide I'm not the person you're looking for . . . I just wanted you to know I appreciate the opportunity."
"You're welcome."
She stared at him as though she were searching for something. "I'll look forward to hearing from you."
As he started his truck, Jake sensed her standing in the doorway. Resisting the urge to glance back, he wondered why it felt as though something important had just happened.
***
The job was hers– if the office manager had anything to say about it. Mrs. Reilly practically beamed over Jen's qualifications. It was definitely hers to lose. And it was an incredible job, she was reluctant to admit. Great benefits, nice working conditions. She tried not to want it too much.
Seated in the lobby, she waited for the final interview with Jake. It had to be a good omen she'd been given a tour of the building. The atmosphere was friendly. Laughter in the employee kitchen had brought a wistful smile to her lips. Everything there seemed so . . . professional.
"Mrs. Stone? We're ready for you." Mrs. Reilly offered an encouraging smile. The receptionist gave a little wave as she followed the older woman down the hall. The busy noise of the reception area faded, absorbed by the plush carpet beneath her feet.
"This is Mr. Traynor's office. Have a seat and he'll be with you shortly." Mrs. Reilly quietly shut the door behind her. Setting her purse on the floor, she glanced around the large office. Muted colors in both furnishings and carpet were easy on the eye. A well-worn leather swivel chair sat behind the polished oak desk. She noted the large drawing table in one corner. Definitely a working office.
Scanning the art on the walls, she searched for clues to Jake's personality. She'd thought about him too many times over the last several days. And not about working for him. That admission was enough to make her shift uncomfortably. His attractiveness should be a drawback– not an asset. But admiring him couldn't get her into trouble. Acting on it– now that would be disastrous. Forcing her brain back to business, she registered the framed diplomas on the back wall, attesting to a degree in construction engineering and an advanced degree in finance.
The wall of glass behind his desk revealed a sloping, manicured lawn that ended in a grove of birch trees. A soft breeze drifted through the open window. When she heard the door open, Jen crossed her fingers. Rising from her seat, she turned to face him.
"Jake– hi!" Her smile was quick when she recognized her friend.
"Jenna, it's nice to see you again." Compelling eyes, far greener than she remembered gleamed with friendly amusement. "The kids are good?"
She shook his extended hand. "They're fine. Alex is still talking about visiting your trucks." Jake looked very different today. In an immaculately tailored suit, he appeared lean and powerful . . . and just a little dangerous. Her pulse skittered a warning.
"And Lulu?"
His question made her smile, easing her nerves over the interview. "Her surgery went well. I think I'll have her around a few more years."
He chuckled. "I'm not sure that's a good thing." When someone tapped softly on the door before opening it, his smile was apologetic. Seeming accustomed to the interruption, he acknowledged Mrs. Reilly.
"Mr. Traynor, you've got a call holding. She says it's urgent."
He sighed. "Who is it?"
"It's Mrs. Traynor."
He rolled his eyes. "I'll call her later," he said. "Can you please hold my calls for the next thirty minutes?"
Jen startled. Married? How had she not suspected he was married? Gorgeous. Successful. Kind? Disappointment sliding over her, Jen pushed it aside. Jackson Traynor being off limits was a good thing. She needed a job. Steady work with a kind boss. Not an infatuation with her employer. Her mind drifted to the stack of bills that needed paying. Rick's life insurance would last another month . . . hopefully.
"Let's talk about the job I want to fill." Jake's gaze was expectant. "Tell me again about your qualifications."
Jen plunged in, describing her decade of experience as an assistant to project teams. Steering clear of the Baldwin angle, she offered the names of the project managers she'd worked for as references . . . hoping Baldwin's petty desire for revenge didn't extend to the managers below him.
"I'm looking for a right hand person," he explained, expanding on the role he envisioned working for him. Her nerves melting away, she answered several more questions, surprised by the level of detail Jake was willing to delve into.
"We're growing so fast, I need help keeping it all straight. The fact that you could act as an assistant, but perform some of the tasks of an engineer is intriguing to me because I'm hoping for someone who can sort of stay one step ahead of me."
"I think I'm up for that challenge. Specialty seems like a wonderful place to work." Jen grew more confident by the minute. Jake was reassuringly all business. No innuendo. No sly comments to gauge her reaction. There was no vibe of anything other than enthusiasm. Passion for his work and for the company his father and uncle had built from the ground up.
"When would you be able to start?" Jake flicked a glance at his watch.
Hope soaring, Jen tried not to smile. "I could start Monday, if you like." He proceeded to answer several questions she posed about the position and his expectations. Nearly two months had passed since Baltimore, yet the memory of the incident could still make her flinch. But the more time that passed, her flagging confidence was bouncing back. Though still cautious, Jen was willing to chalk up her experience there to bad luck.
Crossing her fingers, she finally asked the question she could no longer put off. It would be a shame if they were talking in different ballparks. "What does the position pay?"
Jake tossed out a figure that sent a shiver of warning down her spine. "The going rate for assistants is lower."
"I know what the market is paying." Leaning on the corner of his desk, his stance was relaxed, belying the serious expression on his face. "You want to make less?"
Damn. Was this it? Her heart sank. Where he'd explain the ‘tasks’ she'd be required to perform to earn more? Wink. Wink. Disappointed with herself, Jen took the bait. "Then why are you-"
"Because I'll expect a great deal more from you."
"Jenna?" Despite her disappointment, his expression of absolute puzzlement registered in her brain. "Where are you going?"
Pushing off the desk, he reached the door as she did, any trace of humor gone. "Let's make sure we're discussing the same thing. I'm talking about a legitimate job." He'd paled visibly beneath his tan, his jaw suddenly chiseled from granite. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I-I thought y-you meant-" Her cynical words replayed in her head. Would she ever learn to put the past behind her? "I apologize for the misunderstanding."
"The salary fits exactly between an engineer and an assistant." When he nodded to the wingback near his desk, she gratefully dropped into it, her legs feeling distinctly rubbery. Resisting the urge to bury her head in her hands, she held herself rigid in the chair.
"If you accept, you'll work damn hard," he continued. "Probably some overtime until we get organized." When his eyes lasered in on her, Jen's toes curled up in her pumps. "I may need you to travel occasionally."
"H-how much travel?" The move from Baltimore had left her without reliable overnight sitters. At her old job, she was always home by the end of the day. The crash that killed Rick hadn't helped. Megan still experienced an almost irrational fear of car accidents. Though she barely remembered her father being around, the violent event of his death had left an indelible impression.
Jake didn't answer for several seconds, giving her the impression he wasn't prone to impulse decisions– about anything. "Not much," he finally admitted. "I'm working on a deal that might bring us work in Maryland next year. But it may or may not happen."
"Then it probably wouldn't be a problem . . . as long as I had enough advance notice." What the hell was she saying? She'd just blown it-
Trusting Jake (Blueprint To Love Book 1) Page 3
