by Mara Jacobs
“Weekends, of course, would be big,” Deni said, not even looking at the others anymore, now quickly writing notes. “So you’d be looking at energy costs almost twenty-four/seven.”
“Yeah, and that’s the bitch of it all. I don’t know if that makes this thing even feasible.”
“That’s for us to figure out,” Sawyer said. There was a sense of authority, of confidence, in his voice that made Deni look up from her notes. He leaned forward, his forearms on the edge of the table. “Let us take this on, Petey. If there’s a way to do this, we’ll figure it out.”
Petey looked across the table at Sawyer, then he took a quick glance at Alison. Deni thought she saw Alison give a small nod, but it may have been her imagination.
“When you say ‘us,’ who exactly do you mean? Are you going to be working on this yourself?” Petey asked Sawyer.
Deni sat back in her chair, waiting for Sawyer to explain the process, and groups of people, that Petey would work with at Summers and Beck. The survey team, then the costing process, and then finally—hopefully—the choosing of the contractor and the actual building. All of which would be overseen by a project coordinator, most likely Jim or Bob, or possibly Andy himself. Although Snide Randy had been made lead on more projects lately, making Deni feel that Andy might be grooming Randy for a partnership.
“Yes. I will be seeing this through every phase,” Sawyer said, shocking Deni.
Today, Andy had made it seem like Sawyer was here merely for the meet-and-greet schmooze dinner. That he’d make the pitch for Petey to use Summers and Beck and then head back up to the mountain and his hut.
Okay, so not a hut. And maybe not even on Brockway Mountain. But still. She hadn’t expected him to lie outright to a client. Unless he wasn’t lying and was indeed going to take lead on this one.
Deni wasn’t sure which scenario was least likely.
“Of course, others will be involved. First thing, we’ll get our survey crew up to your land and get some specs. And then our costing guys will start working on a budget and ongoing cost-versus-revenue analysis.”
Oh, okay. He was easing Petey into the idea that others would take over for him when he headed back up to the mountain.
“But I will be the lead on this and will oversee every step of it myself,” Sawyer said, looking straight at Petey.
The man was not lying. He was going to come out of hibernation for this job.
Which was an important, high-profile job, but not one that would make the company much money. There were a lot of other projects—some of the new buildings at Tech they were trying to land—that could have used the attention of a partner more.
But you didn’t hide away on a mountain if you didn’t have at least a touch of eccentricity—and possibly a little of downright crazy.
“Deni’s going to be my second on this. Like I said, others will be involved, but you’ll be working with the two of us.”
Petey was nodding, chewing on a piece of pizza. He finished, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said, “Let’s do this. You guys start. I won’t go anywhere else with this thing until we take a look at what you come up with. If the numbers can work, you have the business.”
He wasn’t even going to bid it out? Deni kept her mouth shut. Either this Petey Ryan was the world’s worst business man or…
She watched as something, some look, passed between Petey and Sawyer. A measurement of some kind. A judgment. Something Deni didn’t fully understand. But Alison did. Deni could tell by her therapist’s body language that Alison approved of whatever was passing between her man and Sawyer.
Deni had been in the Copper Country long enough to know that things were sometimes done quite differently than in the real world, but this exceeded anything she’d seen before.
Still, she kept her mouth shut, not even bringing up the fact that surely tomorrow her role in this project would be turned over to somebody with more experience in this type of structure.
“How about Darío?” Sawyer asked. “How involved will he be?”
“Not very. He’s here for the next month while the tour is on the west coast, and until the baby gets a little older.”
“Right. Andy mentioned something about somebody having a baby.” He sat back, his arms falling from the table. He took his beer bottle and noticed it was empty. He motioned to the waitress, then looked around at the level in the others’ bottles and held up three fingers. Deni eyed her nearly full bottle.
“Yeah, Darío and Katie had a baby girl about, what”—he looked at Alison—“three weeks ago?”
“Four,” Alison said.
“Right. Four. Two of which were the longest two weeks of my life,” he said, still gazing at Alison. She put her hand on his arm. Deni thought she heard Alison whisper, “Mine, too.”
“Anyway…” Sawyer said, trying to guide Petey back. “Darío’s involvement?”
“Right. So, he’ll be around for another few weeks until the tour hits the Florida swing, then he and Katie and Peaches will hit the road for a while.”
“They’re going to take a two-month-old baby out on tour?” Deni asked. By the shrugs coming from both Alison and Petey it seemed they’d asked the same question.
“She says she wants to try it. I think she’s going to be home with Peaches in about two weeks, but Katie seems pretty determined to spend this spring and summer on the road with Darío,” Alison said.
“So, anything we can have ready to show Darío, the sooner the better. Obviously we can email him anything and conference call and all that. But for the most part you’re going to be dealing with me on the day-to-day stuff.”
Sawyer nodded and ate some pizza.
“First thing, we’re going to want to get our survey guys up on your land and see what’s what.”
Petey nodded and motioned to Alison, who reached down, pulled a large envelope out of her bag, and handed it to Sawyer.
“This is all the stuff on the land, measurements, specs, all that crap,” Petey said as Sawyer took the envelope from Alison and put it on the ledge behind them with their coats.
“We should probably talk about budgets a little more in depth,” Sawyer said.
Petey waved a hand. “Just give me a bottom line. I wrote in there”—he motioned to the envelope—“our rough estimates on revenue, hours open, that stuff. I’m working on a more detailed business plan now.”
“You are?” Alison and Deni said at the same time.
“Yes. I am,” Petey said with attitude. Deni didn’t blame him. Both she and Alison had sounded doubtful. Deni had only met the man an hour ago, but he did not seem like the type to spend time developing a thorough business plan. And Alison apparently agreed, and she obviously knew Petey much better. And much more intimately.
“What? No comment from you?” Petey said to Sawyer.
“Nope. No comment. Except good for you, man. I hope it works out and we can help you.”
Petey seemed taken aback by this, but quickly recovered.
“Thanks, man.”
“If you need any help writing the plan, let me know. It’s been a while, but I’ve written a few of them over the years.”
“Thanks. Lizzie Hampton’s helping me with it. She’s helped a few of her clients with them. Dumb jocks who need to put their money somewhere.”
“Hey, don’t call yourself a dumb jock,” Alison said in a soothing voice, then smiled and quickly added, “That’s my job.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Petey said, but his smile at Alison said she could call him anything she wanted.
The three of them started talking about the Lizzie person Petey had mentioned, and then others they all knew. Deni only half listened as she ate her pizza.
“Sorry to go on and on about people you don’t know…Deni,” Alison said after a while. She only knew Deni as Denise, and the nickname didn’t seem to roll easily off her tongue.
“No, that’s fine. It’s nice that you’re getting a chance to catch up.”
&
nbsp; Soon after, the dinner came to a close, and Sawyer said he’d be in touch with Petey soon about the surveying and moving forward.
“Great. We’re sorry to cut this short, but we need to stop by The Ridges and see Al’s parents tonight.”
“Your parents are in The Ridges?” Sawyer asked Alison.
Deni knew The Ridges was an assisted-living facility in the area. It’d been designed by Summers and Beck. She wasn’t a huge fan of Snide Randy’s, but he’d done a beautiful job with that complex.
“Yeah, for a few weeks now. We try to get over each night. Petey goes to see my dad most afternoons.”
“He told you about that? I didn’t know if he remembers or not.”
They’d risen from their seats and were putting their coats on. Alison stopped mid-sleeve and leaned over to hug Petey. “Thank you for doing that, by the way.” She continued putting her coat on. Deni just watched her with part fascination at seeing her therapist as such a…human. And, yeah, okay, part envy at the easy, sweet, and yet obviously passionate relationship the two of them had together.
They all said their goodbyes, and the couple left, leaving Deni and Sawyer alone together. Sawyer’s eyes were still on the doorway where Petey and Alison had exited, as he slowly shook his head.
“Petey Ryan and Alison Jukuri? Wow. I would not have seen that coming.” He looked at Deni. “Still. They seemed pretty happy, eh?”
“Yes, they did. And oddly compatible.”
“Yeah, exactly.” He shook his head again. “Go figure.” Then he took his wallet out and put some bills down with the tab. Sawyer reached for Deni’s coat and held it up for her. She rose from the table and let him drape her coat around her, her hands bumping his arms as she reached for the armholes. She pulled her hat and mittens out of the coat pockets as Sawyer put on his own coat.
As they walked out of the Commodore, Sawyer said, “So, Petey Ryan is in a committed relationship and seems happy.”
Deni turned around, ready to agree with him, but she stopped short when he added, “Guess I didn’t need to bring you.”
Chapter Six
Depression is rage spread thin.
~ George Santayana
Deni walked out of the restaurant, Sawyer’s words becoming clear as they reached the sidewalk. The frigid air wasn’t nearly as shocking as his meaning.
“I was…what? A token girl to dangle in front of the town horndog? You were going to pimp me out to a client?”
“No. Of course not. I mean, nothing that nefarious.” He had the grace to look chagrined.
The numbness Deni had been feeling for weeks switched gears into the irritability Alison had warned her may be coming. She put her mitten-clad hand in the center of Sawyer Beck’s chest and pushed. “How dare you.” He backed up a step, but she followed and put her hand on his chest again. “I’m a very good architectural engineer, I’ll have you know.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he said, taking another step back.
That, for some unknown reason, infuriated her even more. “I may be the only female engineer at Summers and Beck”—she nearly spat the name at him—“but I’m nobody’s…bait!”
“I know that. That’s not—”
“And another thing,” she said, pushing his chest again, sending him backing into the brick facade of the Commodore. “I’m not the right person for this job. There are any—”
The words were cut off as he grabbed her upper arms and whirled her around, placing her back against the building.
“Why didn’t you say any of your ideas today?” he asked. Growled.
“What?” she asked, confused. This was her rant. What was he blathering about?
“Today. In the meeting. You had it all down in your notes. Why didn’t you speak up?”
“You were looking at my laptop?”
He shook her arms, stepped closer to her. The envelope under his arm rustled, but held. His breath came out in frozen clouds. She could see hers as well. Why was she breathing so hard?
“I even gave you the opening about the methane, but you let the others bring it up. Why?”
She tried to think back to the meeting, but her mind shut down. She couldn’t think, she could only feel. Feel his strong hands on her arms, even through the thick wool of her coat. Feel his breath against her face. Feel the weight of his gaze as his eyes searched hers.
“I don’t know…I… What do you mean?” she asked, her voice not sounding like her own.
His eyes dropped from hers to her mouth, and she bit her lip. In anticipation.
“Aw, hell,” he whispered, then leaned forward and kissed her.
She tasted like pizza. And beer. Which were two of Sawyer’s favorite things. But both paled in comparison to the taste of…just…her.
He’d watched her all night at dinner. She’d been good with Petey and Alison, had fit in. She knew when to pipe up and when to let the client talk.
But all Sawyer could think about was the way her mouth wrapped around that beer bottle.
It was wrong. On so many levels, not the least of which was she worked for his company.
But, good God, she tasted great.
And, good God, she was kissing him back.
He opened his mouth over hers, and she followed suit. He darted his tongue inside, and hers greeted him. He moved his hands down her arms to her waist and pulled her closer, the envelope falling to the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He felt the wool of her mitten on his nape when she slid her hand under his hair.
But that mouth.
Her lips were silky warm—even in the cold—and moved against his in a rhythm they found in seconds. Natural. It felt so natural to be kissing her.
But it wasn’t—it wasn’t natural at all.
Shit.
He pulled away. Stepped away. The warmth from her mittens left, leaving his neck suddenly cold.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, not quite meeting her eyes, his gaze on her lips, now a deeper shade of red and so wet. He bent down and retrieved the envelope. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
He expected that cute red wool mitten to poke his chest again, but her hands remained at her sides. Awkwardly, as if they didn’t know what to do now that they weren’t wrapped around his neck.
He almost stepped back to her, just to give her arms something to do, but then she whispered, “Why did you, then?”
Because I could not look at that mouth one second longer without knowing how it tasted.
Because seeing those out-of-place-on-you pink nails wrapped around a beer bottle gave me ideas of something else they could be wrapped around.
Because…because…
“Because I couldn’t…not.”
She looked up at him then. Her brown eyes grew wider, then narrowed slightly in suspicion. She didn’t believe him.
“It’s the truth. But I’m still sorry I did it.”
“Because you’re my boss?”
That reason was pretty damn low on his list. “I’m not your boss.”
“Maybe not directly, but it’s your company. You could have me fired.”
He took another step back, yanked his chook out of his coat pocket, and pulled the knit cap over his head, making sure to cover the tips of his ears, which were growing colder in the frigid air.
“If I walked in to those offices tomorrow and told Andy I wanted you fired”—she started to open her mouth, but he held up a hand—“or that I wanted you off this project or even expressed some doubts about your abilities, he’d laugh me out of his office.”
“Why? He seems to trust your judgment. Why else get you down here?”
“He got me down here because I knew Petey—not well, and not for a lot of years, as you could tell from our conversation. But he thought Petey might feel more comfortable, more at ease, with me.”
She looked down, probably thinking about where he was going, then looked back up at him and gave him a forgiving shrug. She was quick and didn’t need him to go on, but he
needed to.
“Which was one of the reasons I wanted you here, too. I wasn’t pimping you out. I knew Petey Ryan likes pretty girls—women. I knew he likes to flirt and posture, and I figured he wouldn’t do that with me.” He smiled, thinking about the man he remembered. “But he’d particularly love to do it in front of me.” Then he thought of the man he’d just had dinner with. “But it seems it was all for naught, because he is blissfully unaware of all other females than Alison Jukuri.”
“Okay, so you weren’t pimping me out.”
“Nope. And…” He didn’t finish his thought.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on. What?” she said with a bit of resignation in her voice. Like he was going to tell her it wasn’t like she’d be Pete Ryan’s type anyway. Which was about a thousand miles away from what he was actually thinking.
Which was: “Besides, by the end of the night, if he’d made one move toward you, I would have put him on his ass…again.”
“Because Alison is your friend, too? I don’t think he’d—”
“Not because of that. Even if Alison hadn’t been there. By the end of the dinner—hell, even by the time I’d walked out of the office—I did not want Petey Ryan flirting with you. And I really didn’t want you flirting back.”
“Why?” No resignation in her voice now. She knew. She knew how attracted he’d become to her in such a short time. Seemed surprised by it, but she wasn’t being all coy about it.
Which was part of the attraction.
“Why?” she asked again, challenge in her voice this time.
He liked it. It felt so different from how he’d been feeling for so long now. And more than being attracted to her—which was odd in itself—he liked her.
When he realized that, he knew he had to step back—and not in the physical sense.
“Why?” she asked once more, this time on a whisper, her breath trailing into the space between them.
“Because of your pink nail polish,” he said, shocked at what came out of his mouth. He wanted to be straight with her, but Jesus, he didn’t want to make her think he had a fetish or anything.
