Right from the Start

by Jeanie London

  She’d hoped to conduct some classes at her old offices to save some work notifying upcoming students, but the logistics hadn’t made much sense. Two offices meant making two moves since the business required bulky office furniture and conference tables and chairs. Lots and lots of chairs.

  Add daily visits to check on the renovations and trying to anticipate everything that needed to be addressed to minimize the amount of work after she moved in, and she hadn’t done much sleeping these past weeks.

  “We worked the whole time,” Lou added from the rear of the group clustered outside a conference room to inspect the newly erected walls. “This slave driver wouldn’t let me cancel anything. Not one session. Not one class. And I had to notify everyone on the schedule about the address change.”

  “Slave driver is right,” Geri said. “Kenzie, I had no idea you were such a tyrant.”

  “Excuse me.” Kenzie raised her hands in entreaty. “This from the woman who keeps me in her chambers so long I have to pack food for two meals?”

  There was laughter then they moved onto the new landing and doorway that led into the attic. As everyone shuffled through to get a good look at where the furniture for the two unavailable classrooms would be stored, Kenzie overheard comments about her new neighbor.

  “Isn’t Angel House a private church school?” someone asked.

  “I’m pretty sure it is,” was the reply. “I want to know how any private school can be funded by the city. And Catholic to boot. How on earth did they pull that off?”

  Kenzie thought she might have the answer to that question but kept it to herself. She wouldn’t invite a volatile conversation into her moving day. Among her friends, many of whom were politically active, partisan opinions ran the gamut.

  But the simple answer was: Will Russell.

  Their newest councilman had an agenda. Most politicians did, so no surprises there. But this general contractor had become a politician specifically to further Family Foundations, and the sort of determination Will had shown suggested a great deal of drive and ambition.

  As she half listened to her dad suggest various setups for the furniture in her one functioning conference room, a thought occurred to Kenzie. So what part of Family Foundations addressed Will’s private agenda?

  That question hadn’t occurred to her before.

  Positive Partings and Angel House both fell under family support. Divorce reform? Will had already gone through the process twice; how many more divorces was he planning?

  Angel House? She’d seen him at the park with his son, who was a perfectly adorable little boy.

  Public services? Downtown revitalization? Infrastructure? Economic growth for his business, maybe? Kenzie didn’t have a clue.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said, annoyed curiosity had distracted her. “Place the computer work station where?”

  “Here, honeybunch.” Her dad brushed family and friends aside and marched to the middle of the room. At seventy-two, he was still an energetic man thanks to his passion—eighteen holes of golf daily. “This recessed area. Bet the desk will fit right in. Accessible from both ends of your big table, but you won’t deal with glare from the windows.”

  Kenzie followed her dad and stood beside him, considering. There were several windows in this room, the room she intended to make her main mediation room. There were other rooms for more intimate settings, but this one would be perfect for those complicated sessions involving an entourage with both parties.

  Leaning up on tiptoe, she kissed his weathered cheek. “What would I do without you? Who’s got the measuring tape?”

  “Nathanial to the rescue.” The group parted to let Nathanial through, and he took the measurements.

  This proved the perfect segue to get everyone working again, and Kenzie led the procession downstairs to unload the truck.

  “Lou and I will direct traffic. We want to get the boxes and furniture into the right rooms to start with, please.” Toward that end, Kenzie had made a map labeling the rooms to the corresponding tags on the boxes and furniture.

  “Look at you.” Geri appeared and peered around Kenzie to view the map with interest. “And they say I’m organized.”

  “No choice. Since not all of the renovation work is completed, I have to make accommodations. But I can’t afford to misplace anything. So—” she held the map aloft “—this is my solution.”

  They were still in the process of unloading the truck when the catering van arrived.

  “Would you mind dealing with them, Nathanial? Neither Lou nor I can pull away.”

  “Where do you want everything?”

  “What do you think—reception area or main conference room? The table is already in.”

  He thought for a moment, brow furrowed, eyes squinted, a familiar expression. “I vote for reception area. Closer to the break room near your office if we need ice. The fridge is working, right?”

  Kenzie nodded. “Good idea. And the flowers are there, too. You can use them as a centerpiece.”

  “You got it, Kenz.” He pulled another familiar face. “Flowers to dress up the keg.”

  “Lou didn’t really?”

  “Overtime, remember?” He took off outside to greet the van.

  Kenzie watched him go with a smile. A big party to celebrate moving day. Perfect. She’d known Lou would take care of everything. As long as Geri collected car keys and Kenzie could actually pay the bill... She headed upstairs to direct the storing of another conference table.

  “Good thing the legs come off,” the spouse of a former dance buddy told her. “Otherwise there would be no getting up those attic stairs.”

  “Don’t kill yourselves, guys. If we can’t get this stuff out of the way, then we’ll make a place for it in one of the unfinished conference rooms.”

  Will would have to shuffle things around to refinish the floors, but then, the time frame had been his, not hers. She’d do the best she could.

  By the time she made her way downstairs again, she found a spread worthy of all the hard work that had been taking place today. Nathanial had created a buffet-style setup with some tables he’d grabbed from the main classroom. There was indeed a half keg sitting in a place of honor on the reception window counter, along with bottled beer in a cooler and even a coffee urn so she would have wide-awake intoxicated guests.

  Lou appeared with a sleeve of foam cups for the coffee. “Centerpiece is a nice touch, don’t you think?”

  “As always, you get everything right down to the finest detail.”

  “Which is why you pay me the big bucks.”

  That made them both laugh. One day, maybe. Until then Kenzie made sure Lou always knew how much she was appreciated. “Hopefully no one will regret giving me a hand today.”

  “Might have been cheaper to hire movers.”

  Kenzie shook her head. “But not close to being so much fun. Perfect excuse to throw a party and celebrate my good fortune with everyone I care about.”

  With an exaggerated sigh, Lou sank onto one of the sofas. “If I pass out, wake me when it’s time to leave.”

  Lou could easily sleep as the well-appointed leather piece was comfortable in addition to being sturdy enough to weather constant traffic. Kenzie knew firsthand as she had spent more than her fair share of time dozing between her workdays and conducting the night classes when her schedule got hairy.

  “Nathanial told us lunch made it.” Her dad and mom emerged with several others in tow.
“Need fuel to unpack those boxes.”

  “Please, help yourselves.” Kenzie motioned to the table then glanced at Lou. “Want earplugs? Otherwise I don’t think you’ll be falling asleep anytime soon.”

  Lou pushed herself up again with a grunt. “Forget it. I can sleep on my time. I want to drink beer on yours. Before there’s none left. And you get over to that table right now and grab something. Otherwise you’ll get too distracted to eat—I know you. I ordered the maple-glazed turkey especially for you.”

  “You’re the best.” Kenzie blew her a kiss, intending to grab a plate and sit with her parents, but when she saw the cooler filled to overflowing with bottled beer, she had a sudden inspiration.

  Grabbing a dark beer and a pale ale, she headed to the door with a quick, “Be right back.”

  Then she stepped outside into the sunny afternoon and circled her new building. She’d noticed the familiar truck at the opposite end of the parking lot as they’d been unloading furniture. Kenzie knew Will had likely been working for hours already as seemed to be his practice.

  Filled with excitement and goodwill, she plunged into the dim interior of the recital hall, bracing herself to find Madame Estelle’s stage in pieces and the tiered seating torn up. But Will apparently hadn’t started work in here yet.

  She didn’t give herself any opportunity to think better of what she was doing. She only thought about the floral arrangement that had welcomed her into the building and knew she could do no less than return the gesture. A cool beverage to say a simple, “Thanks.”

  And maybe, just maybe, she’d make some headway at turning a stupid awareness of a man she didn’t want to be aware of into a casual rapport. Nothing she’d done so far was doing the trick.

  “Will,” she called out into the quiet interior. “Will, are you in here? I saw your truck outside.”

  The dusty quiet was her only reply.

  What to do? What to do?

  She had an office filled with people and couldn’t be gone long. But the awareness of all the work he’d done to allow her to move in and all that still remained to turn this big empty hall into a bunch of classrooms propelled her forward.

  This was one of those moments when she needed to practice what she preached. Regardless of any questions she may have about Will’s motives—questions that were not hers to ask—the fact was he had put forth a great deal of effort on her behalf. She could put forth a little of her own to thank him.

  Circling the small orchestra pit that had never seen much use save for when Madame Estelle would invite students from the local universities to perform at the request of various music directors, Kenzie climbed the steps to the door that led backstage. She had no idea where Will could be working, and there was a lot of dark ground to cover.

  “Will,” she called out again, her voice echoing on the empty stage. “Oh, Will. Where are you?”

  No response. Emerging into the hallway behind the stage that led to the various dressing rooms, Kenzie caught sight of light spilling out of a room toward the end of the hall. With relief, she headed in that direction.

  Will stood on a ladder, reaching up to where exposed wires dangled from the ceiling. The sight of him wearing low-slung jeans and work boots, the casual Henley shirt detailing the shape of his chest caught her off guard.

  She’d met him when he’d worn a business suit, and for some reason his councilman image loomed large in her brain.

  He twisted wires together then separated and twisted some more without seeming to notice her. With the beer bottles starting to sweat, she stood there, observing everything about him from the way the muscles in his forearms flexed with every flick of his wrist to the earphones dangling from his ears.

  Will hadn’t heard her, which turned out to be a good thing since the sight of him robbed every bit of casual from her thank-you. Suddenly, her heart pounded hard. She was too aware of this man and the fact that she’d come to bridge the distance between professional and personal by inviting him to lunch.

  She was such an idiot.

  “Who are these people?” Will growled, disrupting the quiet as he gave another few sharp twists of his fingers. “Since when do we give in to economic bullying? This is America, Land of the Free. Or at least it used to be. Jerks.”

  Kenzie stood rooted to the spot, unsure whether to interrupt or retreat before being witness to more commentary in that grumbling-beneath-his-breath tone that made her feel as if she’d intruded on his privacy.

  But another throbbing heartbeat and the choice was no longer hers because Will jerked an earbud free with a harsh, “What jerks!” He plucked wire clippers from the ladder tray, turned toward the wires and almost stumbled off the ladder when he saw her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WILL BLINKED TO clear his vision, unsure whether or not he imagined the woman who had materialized unexpectedly.

  Kenzie. But as he’d never seen her before. Dressed in jeans and a clingy, short-sleeved shirt that revealed curves he hadn’t paid attention to before. Not that he hadn’t seen them. But her professional skirts and jackets only hinted at the goods beneath.

  She was feminine in a graceful sort of way, slender, lanky almost, with curves he hadn’t truly appreciated. Now, like this, he could suddenly see her as a dancer with casual elegance, not the overt sexuality of a pole dancer.

  Will wasn’t sure why he was thinking about pole dancers around this woman. Wasn’t sure he wanted to know. That part of his life was a distant memory, the part where he was a man and not a dad in demand 24/7.

  Kenzie was the problem, he decided. She was noticeable. He noticed her freckles, the hair, the green-gold eyes...the curves. The gentle slope of her hips, the trim waist, the roundness of breasts molded by that clingy, soft fabric that left nothing to the imagination.

  She was real. Every lean inch of her.

  “Hey, Kenzie.” There was no mistaking that red hair anyway, even pulled back in a ponytail. That vantage was a new one, too. Her jaw delicately angled, and the neckline of her shirt brought his attention to a lot of creamy skin between her slim neck and the hint of cleavage. No missing that.

  “Sorry to disturb you.” She gave a tentative half laugh. “Here you are working peacefully and enjoying your music.”

  He plucked the remaining earbud out of his ear. “I wouldn’t go straight to enjoying. I’m listening to the audio of the last council meeting.”

  “Oh.”

  She didn’t seem to have a reply for that, so he felt obligated to further explain. “I can’t seem to sit still long enough to review the minutes, so I listen to them.”

  Nowadays when he sat still, he usually passed out with exhaustion, but he didn’t admit that. Didn’t want a vote of no confidence from this woman who still had work for him to do.

  Not that she’d voted for him. She’d readily admitted that.

  Holding up two cold beers, she seemed to rally. “It’s moving day on my side of the building. Everyone’s taking a break for lunch. I thought you might be hungry.”

  That was not what he expected. When Will thought of Kenzie, he heard questions.

  “Would it be possible...”

  “How difficult would it be...”

  Or maybe that was the Kenzie who wore feminine skirts and jackets that downplayed the sleek terrain of her dancer’s body.

  Will’s thoughts had taken an unexpected turn, so he bought himself some time by climbing down the ladder, sacrificing the sup
erior view of her neckline in the process.

  “Lunch, huh? That’s better than hearing something’s broken and needs to be fixed. Nothing needs my attention yet, does it?”

  Shaking her head and sending the ponytail flying, she held up the beers. “Wasn’t sure what you liked to drink.”

  He stepped off the ladder and onto level playing field. He was taller than she by a good bit, but not staring down at her in a way that he’d be distracted by the vision she presented in her casual clothes. She really was a lovely woman. Fresh-faced and creamy-skinned and ultra feminine with that silky voice and fiery hair.

  He took the dark beer and said, “Thanks. Perfect picker-upper. Getting hot as hell in here.”

  “You mentioned replacing the air-conditioning units. For some reason I thought you meant you’d replaced both sides.”

  She clearly listened when he spoke. He would have to remember that. “I did. There’s a lot more ductwork on this side though. Got guys coming in Monday.”

  “Hmm.” Her lips pursed as she paused, then said slowly, “Maybe you should come by then and get another beer before they’re gone. Or you’re welcome to this one.”

  He eyed the bottle she held, too. Would he look like a drunk if he took both? “What about you?”

  “It’s a little early for me. I’ve got to get everything unpacked and set up this weekend so I’m ready for work on Monday.”

  Well, that answer was yes. He would look like a drunk. “I’m good, thanks. Sounds like you have a crowd next door.”

  “A thirsty crowd apparently. Guess I’m working them hard.”

  That much he didn’t doubt. Little Ms. Tyrant whether in a skirt or jeans. “Glad you’re getting settled.”

  “Want to grab some lunch? My administrative assistant ordered from the deli down the street. And the flowers are gorgeous, by the way. That was really thoughtful of you.”

  He tilted the bottle toward her. “Welcome.”

  She smiled, and silence fell between them. Will wasn’t sure why this conversation felt disjointed and strange. Awkward even. Then he realized she must be waiting for an answer about lunch.