What Happens Between Friends

by Beth Andrews

  Frank was calling? For her?

  Sadie took the phone, turned her back to her parents. “Hello?”

  “Sadie,” he said, his voice booming over the phone. “It’s Frank. I didn’t catch you at a bad time, did I?”

  “Not at all. Is everything all right?” Had something happened to James?

  “Everything’s fine. I was wondering if I could possibly interest you in a job.”

  * * *

  FRIDAY MORNING, JAMES strolled across the parking lot toward the shop as he checked the local forecast on his phone. Years ago, when his father had started the company, he’d built a shop behind his house. The original building—two stories and large enough to hold two semi trucks—had gone through several changes, most notably the addition of an office where Rose worked as office manager.

  His agenda clear in his mind, what he had to get done already prioritized, James switched over to his messages, catching up on a few he’d missed. He had the day’s schedule both on his phone and in his hand on paper. After assigning the workers to their jobs, he needed to stop by the Carlisles’, check on the progress of their foundation. He also needed to drop off the Websters’ estimate and order the lumber for Mrs. Kline’s cupboards.

  Inside the shop was where Eddie—the best at finish work—made one-of-a-kind built-ins, entertainment centers and bookcases, cabinets, vanities and occasionally even furniture. It was also where James, Maddie and their father built stair treads and measured and cut countertops. Across the paved lot, a two-story warehouse housed lumber, doors and windows and all supplies kept on hand. Next to it was an oversize garage that held three flatbed trucks used for hauling that lumber or supplies to and from jobs.

  It was, James had to admit, a very nice setup for a thriving business like this one. One his father had built—ha-ha—from the ground up, starting with a workshop in the basement of his and Rose’s first house.

  James often wondered how he’d gotten to be a part of it, how he’d gotten to take on so much responsibility. Without planning to, he’d ended up an integral part of Montesano Construction. Now, for better or worse, it was his life. Or at least a big chunk of it.

  He wasn’t sure how the hell he felt about that.

  He inserted his key into the lock on the door only to discover the handle turned easily. Frowning, he stepped inside. The lights were off, the interior dim and cool. It smelled of stale air and sawdust, a light coating of which covered the concrete floor, machines and workstations.

  He squeezed the key in his hand until the edges bit into his skin. He was going to kill Eddie for not locking up. Swear to God, if so much as one board was missing, he was kicking his brother’s ass.

  Not that anything seemed out of place, and with the shop being behind his parents’ house, they would have noticed if anyone had come and gone—especially if that person was carting machines or supplies. Relaxing his grip, James pocketed the keys. And noted the scent of coffee.

  What the hell?

  He wound his way around the machines toward the rear of the building, turned the corner to the addition where the office, a small bathroom and kitchenette were and found the lights on.

  And Elvis lying on the floor next to the metal desk.

  He hated to repeat himself but...

  What. The. Hell.

  He heard a sound to his right, turned and gaped at Sadie as she came out of the kitchenette, his favorite mug in one hand, a scone in the other.

  “Morning, Jamie,” she said, as chirpy as a freaking bird. “Coffee?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  JAMES LOOKED AT Sadie, then to Elvis, who’d gotten to his feet and come over to have his ears scratched, then back to Sadie. She looked real enough in a red floral skirt that ended well above the knee, a red checked top with puffy sleeves, ankle socks and silver high heels with an open toe.

  No one threw together an outfit like Sadie.

  And, unfortunately, he couldn’t dream up that getup on his own. Besides, most of his dreams of her started off with her clothed, but then quickly progressed so that those clothes magically disappeared. And ever since their night together, ever since he’d felt her skin, tasted her, those dreams had become frequent, more torturous and way more erotic.

  This was real. Sadie was real and so beautiful it hurt just to look at her.

  “Your Jeep’s not here,” James said.

  She stared at him as if he was the one who’d lost his mind. “It’s at the shop getting that dent fixed. Will dropped me off.”

  “How did you get in here?” he asked, the only question he could think of.

  She went behind the desk and sat, putting the scone onto a napkin. “My key, of course.”

  “You don’t have a key.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  He opened his mouth, realized he was about to say, “No, you don’t,” and snapped it shut again. Inhaled deeply. Unfortunately, all he could smell was the coffee and her damned perfume, which only made him crave them both.

  “Why do you have a key?” he asked, once again in control.

  “That’s easy. Because your dad gave me one.”

  As if sensing James was at the end of his rope, and ready to use it to strangle the sexy blonde in front of him, Elvis slunk over to sit by Sadie’s chair.

  “Why—” James ground the words out “—did my father give you a key?”

  But before she even could swallow her mouthful, he knew what his father had done.

  “Because he hired me as your new office manager.”

  The words, the truth he saw before his very eyes, rang in his head. “Like hell he did.”

  She broke off another piece of scone. “Wait a minute...he didn’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  If his father had run this by James first, Sadie wouldn’t be sitting here.

  Blushing clear to the roots of her hair, she stood, wiped her fingers on that skirt. “Jamie, I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t.” And he didn’t care that he sounded like an ass. Didn’t care that she seemed sincere and almost as upset about this as he was. Hearing the shop door open, he jabbed a finger at her. “Don’t move.”

  “Can I at least sit down?”

  “No.” He didn’t want her to sit. He wanted her gone.

  “Sadie,” Frank said as he walked into the office. “You’re here bright and early.”

  Sadie slid James an anxious look then circled the desk to give his father a hug. “Just eager to get started, I guess. Or at least, I was.”

  Frank sniffed the air appreciatively. “Is that coffee I smell? And—” another sniff as if he was a bloodhound, able to discern between jelly and cream-filled “—doughnuts?”

  She began twirling her hair around her finger. “I...uh...stopped at the bakery on my way here.”

  “Looks like we got ourselves a real find, huh, James?” Frank asked.

  “Yeah. She’s a peach.”

  At his flat tone, Sadie flinched. Shit. James pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t meant to hurt her.

  Didn’t you?

  No, he told his snide inner voice. He just wanted her gone. Out of his life for good. It was the only way he’d ever get over her.

  “Let me get you some coffee,” Sadie said, practically running into the kitchenette.

  While she poured, Frank took his time searching through the two glossy white bakery boxes for the perfect doughnut.

  “Can I speak with you?” James asked his dad when Frank had a cup of coffee in one hand, a doughnut in the other. James jerked his head toward the shop. “Alone?”

  Without waiting for an answer, James walked into the shop, crossed to the far end by the windows.

  “Is there a problem?” Frank asked, breaking his cake
doughnut in half so he could dunk it in his coffee.

  “Fire her.”

  Frank raised his bushy eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

  “I want you to fire Sadie. Tell her you made a mistake, that she can’t work here.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  Because it was bad enough knowing she was in town, a mere few miles away, without talking to her, without seeing her. When she was half a country away, he could put her out of his mind, pretend she wasn’t always in his heart. But seeing her every day?

  It would be pure hell.

  But he didn’t want to tell his father that, couldn’t admit how deep in over his head he’d always been for her. Though his father probably knew—everyone else seemed to.

  “Why the hell did you hire her in the first place?” James asked. “We don’t need her.”

  “I hired her so your mother could cut back her hours, concentrate on her classes.” He looked confused. And implacable. “I hadn’t realized it would be a problem.”

  “It is. Sadie won’t stay,” James said as the door opened and Maddie came in. “She’ll take off, leaving us in a bind. It might be next week or next month, but she will leave.”

  Frank finished off his doughnut then sipped his coffee. James grimaced, thinking of all those crumbs in there. “She already told me she’d only be able to fill in temporarily, which works out for all of us. Now we can take our time, find the perfect person to take over the job from your mother.”

  “Does Mom even know about this?”

  “Not yet. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “It’s a surprise, all right.”

  “What is?” Maddie asked, joining them.

  “Dad hired Sadie to be our new temporary office manager so Mom can focus on her classes.”

  “Oh, Dad, you didn’t. How could you?”

  “Sadie mentioned you and she had a falling-out,” Frank told James. “But that’s no reason to let a lifetime of friendship go. Think of it this way, not only does this help your mother out, but it also gives you and Sadie a chance to work through your differences.”

  “I don’t want to work through our differences. I want her gone.” Out of his shop, out of Shady Grove, out of his life for good. “Fire her. Now.”

  Frank bristled. “I think you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to, son.” His voice was deadly soft. “This is my company. I make the decisions. Not you.” He nodded as if that was the end of it. “Sadie’s hired and she’s staying hired.”

  As Frank walked away, fury colored James’s vision, vibrated through his body. He wanted to rail, to punch the wall, grab his dad and shake him. Curse him out for doing this to him, for not giving him a say in the matter.

  His father’s company. His father’s decisions. James was just another employee.

  “He didn’t mean that the way it came out,” Maddie said quietly. “You know how he gets when he thinks someone is questioning his authority. You push him, he pushes back to let you know he’s still in charge—as our father and our boss. That’s all it was.”

  But James wasn’t so sure. “You ever think about what you’re doing here?”

  Her eyebrows drew together. “Here as in the shop?”

  “Here as in working for Dad. Being stuck in the same place you’ve been—the same place we’ve both been—since we graduated high school.”

  “We’re not stuck, James. This is our job.”

  “Yeah? Well, maybe I’m tired of my job.” Tired of busting his ass every day, of keeping the company running smoothly. Of his thoughts, his feelings being brushed aside.

  “What are you going to do?” Maddie asked sardonically. “Quit?”

  He could.

  The realization shot through him like an electric bolt, had the tips of his fingers tingling, the hair at the nape of his neck standing on end.

  He could quit. Nothing was forcing him to stay. He’d never thought of it before, had never considered the possibilities that were out there. But now that he had...

  Since it wasn’t his company, his business, he didn’t have to take on all the stress and responsibilities, the endless customer complaints or employee frustrations. There was no need for him to work twelve-hour days and spend his weekends putting out fires or trying to get ahead of the game, to stay on top of the jobs. Trying to make Montesano Construction an even bigger success.

  He could walk away.

  The breath left his lungs on a soft whoosh. He could walk away.

  Holy shit.

  “James,” Maddie prompted, “I was kidding.”

  “I know,” he murmured distractedly.

  But now that the idea had taken hold, he couldn’t shake it. Didn’t want to. He wanted to explore it, turn it over in his head and weigh all of his options.

  And then, after careful deliberation, after he’d listed the pros and the cons, he’d decide if he wanted to stay with his father’s company.

  Or start one of his own.

  * * *

  WELL, SO FAR her first day on the job had completely and totally sucked.

  Sadie glanced at the clock on the computer. And she’d only been working for Montesano Construction for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of Maddie glaring at her hard enough to incinerate her on the spot. Of Eddie barely speaking to her and, the worst, James not even glancing her way, as if he couldn’t stand to look at her.

  Finally, thankfully, their little meeting broke up. Sadie stood as the carpenters started filing out, James having given them their work orders for the day.

  “James,” she called from the office doorway, not meaning to sound quite so...desperate. She toned it down and tried again. “Could I speak with you?”

  Everyone—Frank, Eddie, Maddie and their six employees, every last damn one—stopped in midstride.

  Everyone, that was, except James, who kept right on walking toward the door. “I’m busy.”

  Sadie’s face flamed, got so hot she was surprised steam didn’t rise up and cause her hair to curl. “Jamie,” she managed to say through the mortification tightening her throat. “Please.”

  He stopped, his shoulders ramrod straight. She could practically see his internal debate, sensed how much he wanted to ignore her. To brush her aside when he’d never, not once before, treated her with anything less than the utmost respect.

  She’d lost his respect, his kindness. Her own fault, yes, she thought as irritation rose, but surely he carried some of the blame.

  The workers left, the last one—a super slow-moving Maddie—hesitating at the door while James crossed the shop to Sadie. “Yes?”

  She opened her mouth. Shut it. Okay, so he wasn’t going to apologize for embarrassing her. That was fine. She could handle this new James.

  But, man, she hoped the old James came back soon.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “What for this time?”

  That flicker of irritation grew, threatened to become a full flame. She smothered it. “I thought you knew your father had hired me.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “It’s the truth.”

  He smirked—James Montesano actually smirked at her. She wished it wasn’t so damned sexy on him.

  “And you always tell the truth, don’t you, Sadie?” His voice was a low, husky purr, a tone she’d never heard from James. Intimate. Knowing.

  Arrogant.

  “I do when it’s important.”

  He nodded. Grudging acceptance. If that was the best she could get, she’d take it.

  “I thought you knew,” she repeated. “In fact I’d hoped...”

  “What?”

  She met his eyes. “I’d hoped it was your idea. That you wanted me here.”

  A stupid
assumption on her part. But she’d been so excited about the job that she hadn’t asked too many questions. She never would have guessed that Frank would make a decision like this without getting James’s input first.

  “Look,” she continued, “I don’t want to make things difficult for you, and I certainly don’t want to be the cause of any trouble between you and Frank—”

  “Who said there was trouble between us?”

  “Voices carry in here, James. I heard you two arguing.”

  I don’t want to work through our differences. I want her gone.

  She wiped her damp palms down the sides of her skirt. “I think it’d be better, for everyone, if I just quit.”

  His phone buzzed. He checked it, read whatever the text message said.

  And answered it.

  She wanted to slap the stupid thing out of his hand. Or better yet, shove it down his throat. There she was, willing to give up a job that was the answer to her prayers, and he couldn’t give her his full attention.

  Whirling around, she stormed over to the desk, all high indignation, and grabbed her purse. “Come on, Elvis.”

  “Don’t bother with the theatrics or going through with this grand gesture,” James said, putting his phone in his pocket as he stepped farther into the office. “They’re not necessary.”

  “You want me to stay?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

  His mouth thinned. “It’s recently come to my attention that what I want doesn’t matter, so you might as well keep the job. Besides, the sooner you earn enough money, the sooner you can take off to California.”

  “Well,” she breathed. “Ouch.”

  He dropped his gaze. Sighed. “Go. Or stay. It’s up to you.”

  “And I suppose if I stay, I’ll have to deal with the new you—”

  “New me?”

  “This—” she waved vaguely at him “—new...different...version of you. Who, by the way, is sort of an ass.”

  “Sort of?”

  “Keep working on it,” she muttered. “I’m sure you’ll be a whole ass in no time.”

  His eyes gleamed, but she wasn’t sure if it was from humor or anger. She couldn’t read him, not anymore. She used to think she knew him better than anyone.