by Jean Oram
He tossed her papers on the coffee table and leaned over her chair, trapping her with a hand on each armrest. “You know arranged marriages?” He waited for her to nod. “Do you know the owner of that lumberyard? Not his name, but who he is?”
Maya shook her head.
“Exactly.” Connor stepped back, crossing his arms again. “Arranged marriages still happen in the business world. Maybe James can see long-term value in this short-term loss.”
“So you’re going to lose half a million dollars just so you can get in this guy’s pants? He must have something pretty special hiding in there.”
“Maya, just do your job, and keep your nose out of James’s way. I trust him.”
“Do you trust me?”
“James and I have made many lucrative deals together. How long have you and I known each other?”
“Maybe he’s making a deal on his own.”
“Maya,” Connor roared. “This has got to stop. If you continue to get in the way of my business partners I will have to terminate our connection. Do you understand?”
She stood, going toe to toe with him, looking for a crack to wiggle into so she could show him what she saw—that James was up to no good and would take down Connor, and his company, if left to his own devices. “You are a stubborn old donkey, Connor MacKenzie. I can’t believe you won’t investigate this enough to tell me I’m wrong. And if you can’t see that this whole deal is faulty, then what will it take?”
“Who is being the stubborn ass here? I’ve told you to stand down.”
Maya raised her voice, anger tightening her muscles as she prepared for a fight to the finish. “Why is he giving Em a hard time? Because she agrees with me. And James knows I’m right. He’s up to no good, and that’s why he wants me out. Everyone is pushing this through because they know you’re completely out of it!”
“Maybe it’s because you’re a pain in the neck who thinks she knows everything.”
Maya closed her mouth, hot tears pricking her eyes. “If you want to fail, then fine.” She turned away, throwing another log on the fire to ward off the chill that had seeped into the cottage. “Stick your head in the sand. Ignore the smoke signals, and while you’re at it, shoot the messenger.”
Connor spun her around, and for a second she thought he was going to make his alpha sexy moves on her and finally take her in front of the fireplace.
“Maya, are you going to drop this?”
“No, I am not.”
He drew away from her, regret flashing across his face. “Then,” he said, his voice low, “I have to let you go. I am no longer in need of your services. You are getting in the way of James doing his job, and you refuse to listen to my warnings. That is not acceptable.”
Maya ground her teeth and slammed out of the cottage, running up the hill out back, the cold wind slicing through her clothing. Leaves tore off the trees as she held her phone up to the darkening sky, searching for service.
Her phone dinged with a voice mail. A call from Nolan.
“It’s not looking good, Maya. You might want to check other avenues.”
Maya deleted the message and, sniffing back tears, listened to the next message.
“Maya. It’s Em. No news. James is shutting me out and has hired a temp for all work on the lumberyard stuff.” Her voice sounded tight. “I’ll call again tomorrow. Don’t send emails.”
Maya stared at the peak of the cottage roof, visible through the swaying trees. Everything was coming down. Fired. She’d been fired. Was playing the business world’s games really that important?
She was going to have to go back to her old job, begging. She sat heavily on a rock, letting the wind whip through her hair as she let out a sob. Her phone dinged. Another voice mail. Great, who else was calling to inform her that the world sucked right now? Hoping for something good, she dialed back into the system and listened to her new message.
It was her sister Melanie. Maya looked to the sky, hoping her sister was calling to see if she’d be free to go out for a few drinks, because her week had certainly just opened up.
“Hey, Maya, Mom had a fall. She’s okay, but they’ve moved her over to the hospital in Bracebridge. We’re all going over there now. I’ll call with more info as I get it. There’s a storm coming, so you might want to sit tight until morning.”
Maya nearly dropped her cell as she tried to shove it in her pocket. Rain began to sprinkle as she tore down the hill, her breath catching in her chest along with unreleased sobs. She raced into the cottage, ignoring Connor, her ex-boss, as she grabbed the key for the boat, planning to leave him stranded on the island. If he didn’t want to listen to the truth, then he could sit here and rot. She wasn’t making him breakfast one more time.
* * *
Connor gingerly closed the cottage’s glass doors, which covered the screen doors from the inside, battening down the hatches. Maya had stormed out, jumped into the boat and torn off across the lake, into what looked like some pretty nasty incoming weather.
He honestly hadn’t thought she’d take getting fired that badly. He’d warned her that she was treading on dangerous ground, but she’d ignored him. He probably should have handled her more carefully, especially because of their past and the way he’d left her satiated yet frustrated last night.
If he’d been thinking straight, he should have eased off after his warning and given her time to cool her heels. But she hadn’t backed down and had promptly gotten under his skin, leading him to fear he wouldn’t be able to shut her down. Nobody wanted a loose cannon at work, one they couldn’t control.
Sighing, he gazed out the window, watching the tops of the trees fold in the wind. No wonder most HR departments had no-dating policies between employees.
But if James was upset, then it was obvious what the problem was. Connor just wished Maya could have taken all that vim and vigor, redirected it and stood down for once. He was too damn tired for drama and theatrics. He knew who James was, but honestly, did he really know Maya that well?
Connor walked through the large cottage, checking the windows in each room, wondering if he should be worried about Maya. Although maybe he should be more worried about a tree falling on him or the wind ripping the plastic off the broken windows Shawn had yet to replace as promised.
Maya’s laptop whirred on the table in the living room, and he tapped the touch pad, expecting the screen to be locked. Instead, he saw the digital version of the papers she’d been waving about earlier. Drawing up a chair, he read through her notes left in the open document. The familiar tightening in his chest began the more he read. This girl had a healthy dose of conspiracy theory in her. And while she had valid points, she had to be missing the full picture. James wouldn’t do something this blatantly stupid and obvious unless he thought Connor had lost his marbles.
His mind flashed to the scene just before he’d left his office for the ER. James had seemed concerned, but relieved. What was that about? Was it a business partner wishing the best for a friend? Or was he concerned Connor would take a break, come back and figure out what he’d done?
Connor glanced around the table for a phone before remembering he’d need a cell and have to go out in the storm if he wanted to contact James to double-check his gut reaction on firing Maya. Connor had noticed his BlackBerry at the bottom of his bag a few days ago, but the battery would definitely be dead by now. He searched Maya’s computer for Skype, feeling out of line for snooping through her applications, and began punching in James’s number. Then he paused. He should probably start the generator to ensure the battery used to power the place was charged so he didn’t drop out midcall.
Rain was slanting sideways through the sky, and he’d need a raincoat to go out there or he’d be soaked in seconds. He lifted a stack of old Muskoka Lakes Association yearbooks off a steamer trunk by the door and peeked inside, hoping for an umbrella. Nothing but old letters and photographs, yellowed and damp smelling. He closed the trunk, rethinking his plan. This conversat
ion was probably best held face-to-face in Toronto, because what if Maya was right? He’d want to see every tell in James’s body language.
Rubbing the tight spot between his ribs, Connor ignored the strange feelings of betrayal, and slammed the laptop shut. James was reliable. Trustworthy. Maya was the one who had left him hanging. She’d found her way under his skin, and had begun to make her conspiracy theory against James feel valid, that was all.
Cupping his chin, he paced the living room. He didn’t need this crap. He needed people who took care of things and let him get much-required rest. He had only a few more days of vacation and he still wasn’t feeling completely human.
Connor drifted back to the table and poked through the papers beside Maya’s computer, stopping to read through the entrepreneur deal. He smiled, liking how detailed her notes were. She didn’t let her own enthusiasm keep her from seeing potential barriers and stumbling blocks. The woman had good instincts when she wasn’t barking up the wrong tree, and she would do okay without him and his job. She’d bounce back. How could a spitfire like her not bounce back even better after a tribulation like this?
Cracking his knuckles, Connor wrote a quick reference for Maya, focusing on her willingness to work hard and take initiative. He saved it on her desktop, so she’d see it, and closed the computer.
Then he went out in the storm, started the generator and typed a new phone number into Maya’s computer.
* * *
Maya clutched her mother’s hand as Catherine dozed in her hospital bed. She appeared so frail and weak. How had she aged so suddenly? She was only in her fifties, but here in the ER, she seemed so close to―
Don’t think about it.
“You okay?” Hailey tugged a blanket up around Maya’s damp shoulders. It was pouring outside in what their mom would call a gully-washer, and while Maya had just managed to miss the deluge, she’d still gotten soaked through by driving the boat in the rain.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Hollywood?”
“I got in a few hours ago. I’m back for a few days before I go to New York. I can postpone, though.”
“Is it that bad?” Maya’s attention was drawn back to their mother.
“The doctor says she’s okay. A concussion and a few bruises is all, but they want to keep her overnight for observation. Until the effects of the concussion have passed, she’s at risk of another fall.” Her sister’s voice cracked and Maya leaned her head on Hailey’s hand, which still rested on her shoulder. “She’s just so…”
“I know,” Maya said grimly. “It’s hard.”
Hailey nodded, unable to speak.
“You know we’ll call you if anything happens. You should still go to New York.”
“It’s only work, Maya. This is…this feels like…”
“Let us take care of Mom. We’ve been holding you back for too long.”
“You guys haven’t been holding me back.”
“Yeah? Then why didn’t you go to that arts college for photography after you graduated from high school? I know you were accepted.” Hailey’s head turned so fast, Maya feared her sister would get whiplash. “You stayed to help us. And while we appreciate it, it’s your time to follow your dreams. It’s our turn to stay close and take care of each other. You know we’ll keep you in the loop.” She gave her sister’s hand a squeeze. “It’s okay, Hailey.”
“I’d never forgive myself if…” She swallowed hard.
“Don’t think that way. She only fell down. It’s not like she had another stroke. And anyway, by the time you have to go she’ll be back to her old self.”
Hailey nodded reluctantly. “I think Mellie Melon’s waiting to come in. She didn’t want to crowd you, since you were the last to arrive.”
Maya nodded, trying to untangle her wet hair. Her curls were a crazy mess.
Hailey left and a few moments later Melanie entered, taking the chair across the bed.
“Thanks for calling,” Maya said.
“I’m glad you checked your messages in time to beat the worst of the storm.”
The sisters stared at their mother for a while, saying nothing.
“How’s it going out there?” Melanie asked, pushing her glasses up her nose.
Maya blinked back unexpected tears.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She heaved a sigh. “I got fired.”
“Fired? I thought you quit the restaurant.”
“No, I mean…”
“Connor MacKenzie fired you?” Melanie lowered her voice as their mother stirred. “What did you do?”
“Why do you think it was something I did?”
“You were fired.”
“Fine. Connor’s advisor is putting through a deal with a lumberyard that doesn’t appear profitable for the company. Connor says it’s for tax reasons and diversifying his portfolio, but I can’t see how he’s going to come out ahead. Things seem shady, but I have no evidence of intentional wrongdoing.”
“You brought this up with him?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course you did. You have no sense of self-preservation. Why did I even ask?” Melanie leaned back, her lips pursed. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe Connor knows it is shady, and that’s why he fired you?”
“What?” Maya sat back. “No.”
“Why not? You said he’s on top of his game. Half of Bay Street’s success is probably shady. Why should he be different?”
“He’s not involved.”
“How do you know?”
“He looked…surprised. Slightly doubtful.”
“Maybe he’s a good actor. Or amazed that you figured it out.”
“His advisor in charge of the project is shutting out anyone who questions it. I think he’s… It doesn’t matter.” She waved away her thoughts. “He trusts his advisor, not me.” Maya stretched, releasing their mother’s hand. “It’s for the best, anyway. I couldn’t work on a project I knew was going to bomb. I couldn’t stand sitting there, letting it fail. If he’s too stupid to see it, then he deserves it.”
The problem was she didn’t believe her own words. She felt as though it was up to her to save Connor, protect him. He was severely burned out, and she could see just how bad it had been, now that he was starting to come alive again. He was returning to the man she’d admired and wanted to emulate.
She didn’t doubt there was something about the deal that would result in good things for James. Nobody in the business world was that loyal forever, especially when their boss was being called the king of Toronto and you were just his hardworking, behind-the-scenes peon whose ego was being continuously bashed in.
Maya rolled her shoulders, and remembering that she was sitting across from a lawyer, sat straighter. “Mel?”
“Yeah?”
“If I initiated a side project with Connor, am I still fired from that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Legally, do I still have a claim? I’m the lead and he’s the backer. We are to split the profits.” Maya batted at the air, dismissing her line of thought. “Never mind. That thing isn’t going to fly, anyway.” She let out a sigh. “Not unless you know someone who can get licensing for a medical device. Kind of in a time crunch.”
“Have you tried expedited licensing?”
“How do I do that?”
“You can request it in certain situations. You might qualify.”
“How do you know about this?”
“I took a business law course when I thought I wanted to be a corporate lawyer.”
“I could seriously hug you right now.”
Melanie smiled. “I’ll send you the link.”
“Do you think I should keep digging on the advisor thing?”
“You were fired, Maya.”
“I know, but…”
“You know Officer Cranks?”
It had been years since the man had played poker at their house with their late father, but he was hard to forget. Especially since he
’d forgiven a few of Maya’s speeding tickets.
“Wow, you play for keeps.”
Melanie smirked. “I’m not talking about arresting anyone. His son, Jamie—you know, from the bar? He’s dating someone who knows about licensing, if you need more help.”
“How do you know all this stuff?”
“I talk to people,” her sister said with a frown. “How do you not know all this stuff?”
Maya focused on their mother’s pale face. Right. That whole connect-with-people thing she kept failing at.
She let out a sigh. She couldn’t seem to do anything right these days.
CHAPTER 13
Maya walked up the wet path, cool sprinkles of leftover rain dropping from the leaves above. She paused to take in the cottage, basking in an early morning sunbeam. Waking up with a crick in her neck from sleeping beside her mother’s bedside, she’d realized she’d better at least come back to the cottage and haul Connor to the mainland.
She continued up the path, on the lookout for fallen trees. So far it seemed as though the island had weathered the storm well, other than the odd tree hanging farther out over the water. The damn waves were eroding the shore little by little. Too bad the tax department wasn’t going to come out and remeasure their shoreline and thus adjust their applicable land taxes down a tad each time a storm shrunk their frontage.
“Hello?” called a voice.
Maya turned, to find a man on the dock―a man looking out of place in a suit. She frowned and hurried back down. She hadn’t heard a boat pull up. As she got closer, she recognized the man, and alongside the dock, the rowboat from the other day. It was tied in a way that if a large swell came along it would damage the boat as well as the dock. Dumbass.
Aaron from Rubicore Developments. What on earth was he doing here?
“Hello.” He hurried forward and shook her hand. “Aaron again. From Rubicore Developments?”
“Yes, I remember.”
