by Maisey Yates
So he’d risked striking out on his own. No one had believed a kid from the wrong side of the tracks could compete with West. But Jonathan had courted business across city and county lines. And created a reputation beyond Copper Ridge so that when people came looking to build retirement homes or vacation properties, his was the name they knew.
He had built everything he had, brick by brick. In a strictly literal sense in some cases.
And every brick built a stronger wall against all the things he had left behind. Poverty, uncertainty, the lack of respect paid to a man in his circumstances.
Then six months ago, Joshua Grayson had approached him. Originally from Copper Ridge, the man had been looking for a foothold back in town after years in Seattle. Faith Grayson, Joshua’s sister was quickly becoming the most sought after architect in the Pacific Northwest. But the siblings had decided it was time to bring the business back home in order to be closer to their parents.
And so Joshua asked Jonathan if he would consider bringing design in-house, making Bear Construction into Gray Bear.
This gave Jonathan reach into urban areas, into Seattle. Had him managing remote crews and dealing with many projects at one time. And it had pushed him straight out of the building game in many ways. He had turned into a desk drone. And while his bank account had grown astronomically, he was quite a ways from the life he thought he’d live after reaching this point.
Except the house. The house was finally finished. Finally, he was living in one of the places he’d built.
Finally, Jonathan Bear, that poor Indian kid who wasn’t worth anything to anyone, bastard son of the biggest bastard in town, had his house on the side of the mountain and more money than he would ever be able to spend.
And he was bored out of his mind.
Boredom, it turned out, worked him into a hell of a temper. He had a feeling Hayley Thompson wasn’t strong enough to stand up to that. But he expected to go through a few assistants before he found one who could handle it. She might as well be number one.
“You’ve got the job,” he said. “You can start tomorrow.”
Her eyes widened, and he noticed they were a strange shade of blue. Gray in some lights, shot through with a dark, velvet navy that reminded him of the ocean before a storm. It made him wonder if there was some hidden strength there.
They would both find out.
“I got the job? Just like that?”
“Getting the job was always going to be the easy part. It’s keeping the job that might be tricky. My list of reasons to hire you are short—you showed up. The list of reasons I have for why I might fire you is much longer.”
“You’re not very reassuring,” she said, her lips tilting down in a slight frown.
He laughed. “If you want to go back and work for your daddy, do that. I’m not going to call you. But maybe you’ll appreciate my ways later. Other jobs will seem easy after this one.”
She just looked at him, her jaw firmly set, her petite body rigid with determination. “What time do you want me here?”
“Seven o’clock. Don’t be late. Or else...”
“You’ll fire me. I’ve got the theme.”
“Excellent. Hayley Thompson, you’ve got yourself a job.”
Two
Hayley scrubbed her face as she walked into The Grind through the private entrance from her upstairs apartment. It was early. But she wanted to make sure she wasn’t late to work.
On account of all the firing talk.
“Good morning,” Cassie said from behind the counter, smiling cheerfully. Hayley wondered if Cassie was really thrilled to be at work this early in the morning. Hayley knew all about presenting a cheerful face to anyone who might walk in the door.
You couldn’t have a bad day when you worked at the church.
“I need coffee,” Hayley said, not bothering to force a grin. She wasn’t at work yet. She paused. “Do you know Jonathan Bear?”
Cassie gave her a questioning look. “Yes, I’m friends with his sister, Rebecca. She owns the store across the street.”
“Right,” Hayley said, frowning. “I don’t think I’ve ever met her. But I’ve seen her around town.”
Hayley was a few years younger than Cassie, and probably a bit younger than Rebecca, as well, which meant they had never been in classes together at school, and had never shared groups of friends. Not that Hayley had much in the way of friends. People tended to fear the pastor’s daughter would put a damper on things.
No one had tested the theory.
“So yes, I know Jonathan in passing. He’s... Well, he’s not very friendly.” Cassie laughed. “Why?”
“He just hired me.”
Cassie’s expression contorted into one of horror and Hayley saw her start to backpedal. “He’s probably fine. It’s just that he’s very protective of Rebecca because he raised her, you know, and all that. And she had her accident, and had to have a lot of medical procedures done... So my perception of him is based entirely on that. I’m sure he’s a great boss.”
“No,” Hayley said, “you were right the first time. He’s a grumpy cuss. Do you have any idea what kind of coffee he drinks?”
Cassie frowned, a small notch appearing between her brows. “He doesn’t come in that often. But when he does I think he gets a dark roast, large, black, no sugar, with a double shot of espresso.”
“How do you remember that?”
“It’s my job. And there are a lot of people I know by drink and not by name.”
“Well, I will take one of those for him. And hope that it’s still hot by the time I get up the mountain.”
“Okay. And a coffee for you with room for cream?”
“Yes,” Hayley said. “I don’t consider my morning caffeination ritual a punishment like some people seem to.”
“Hey,” Cassie said, “some people just like their coffee unadulterated. But I am not one of them. I feel you.”
Hayley paid for her order and made her way to the back of the store, looking around at the warm, quaint surroundings. Locals had filed in and were filling up the tables, reading their papers, opening laptops and dropping off bags and coats to secure the coveted positions in the tiny coffee shop.
Then a line began to form, and Hayley was grateful she had come as early as she had.
A moment later, her order was ready. Popping the lid off her cup at the cream and sugar station, she gave herself a generous helping of both. She walked back out the way she had come in, going to her car, which was parked behind the building in her reserved space.
She got inside, wishing she’d warmed up the vehicle before placing her order. It wasn’t too cold this morning, but she could see her breath in the damp air. She positioned both cups of coffee in the cup holders of her old Civic, and then headed to the main road, which was void of traffic—and would remain that way for the entire day.
She liked the pace of Copper Ridge, she really did. Liked the fact that she knew so many people, that people waved and smiled when she walked by. Liked that there were no traffic lights, and that you rarely had to wait for more than one car at a four-way stop.
She loved the mountains, and she loved the ocean.
But she knew there were things beyond this place, too. And she wanted to see them.
Needed to see them.
She thought about all those places as she drove along the winding road to Jonathan Bear’s house. She had the vague thought that if she went to London or Paris, if she looked at the Eiffel Tower or Big Ben, structures so old and lasting—structures that had been there for centuries—maybe she would learn something about herself.
Maybe she would find what she couldn’t identify here. Maybe she would find the cure for the elusive ache in her chest when she saw Ace with Sierra and their kids.
Would find the freedom to be herself—whoever that might be. To flirt and date, and maybe drink a beer. To escape the confines that so rigidly held her.
Even driving out of town this morning, instea
d of to the church, was strange. Usually, she felt as though she were moving through the grooves of a well-worn track. There were certain places she went in town—her parents’ home, the church, the grocery store, The Grind, her brother’s brewery and restaurant, but never his bar—and she rarely deviated from that routine.
She supposed this drive would become routine soon enough.
She pulled up to the front of the house, experiencing a sharp sense of déjà vu as she walked up to the front porch to knock again. Except this time her stomach twisted with an even greater sense of trepidation. Not because Jonathan Bear was an unknown, but because she knew a little bit about him now. And what she knew terrified her.
The door jerked open before she could pound against it. “Just come in next time,” he said.
“Oh.”
“During business hours. I was expecting you.”
“Expecting me to be late?” she asked, holding out his cup of coffee.
He arched a dark brow. “Maybe.” He tilted his head to the side. “What’s that?”
“Probably coffee.” She didn’t know why she was being anything other than straightforward and sweet. He’d made it very clear that he had exacting standards. Likely, he wanted his assistant to fulfill his every whim before it even occurred to him, and to do so with a smile. Likely, he didn’t want his assistant to sass him, even lightly.
Except, something niggled at her, telling her he wouldn’t respect her at all if she acted like a doormat. She was good at reading people. It was a happy side effect of being quiet. Of having few friends, of being an observer. Of spending years behind the church desk, not sure who might walk through the door seeking help. That experience had taught Hayley not only kindness, but also discernment.
And that was why she chose to follow her instincts with Jonathan.
“It’s probably coffee?” he asked, taking the cup from her, anyway.
“Yes,” she returned. “Probably.”
He turned away from her, heading toward the stairs, but she noticed that he took the lid off the cup and examined the contents. She smiled as she followed him up the stairs to the office.
The doors were already open, the computer that faced the windows fired up. There were papers everywhere. And pens sat across nearly every surface.
“Why so many pens?” she asked.
“If I have to stop and look for one I waste an awful lot of time cussing.”
“Fair enough.”
“I have to go outside and take care of the horses, but I want you to go through that stack of invoices and enter all the information into the spreadsheet on the computer. Can you do that?”
“Spreadsheets are my specialty. You have horses?”
He nodded. “This is kind of a ranch.”
“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t realize.”
“No reason you should.” Then he turned, grabbing a black cowboy hat off a hook and putting it firmly on his head. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. And I’m going to want more coffee. The machine is downstairs in the kitchen. Should be pretty easy. Probably.”
Then he brushed his fingertips against the brim of his hat, nodding slightly before walking out, leaving her alone.
When he left, something in her chest loosened, eased. She hadn’t realized just how tense she’d felt in his presence.
She took a deep breath, sitting down at the desk in front of the computer, eyeing the healthy stack of papers to her left. Then she looked over the monitor to the view below. This wouldn’t be so bad. He wasn’t here looking over her shoulder, barking orders. And really, in terms of work space, this office could hardly be beat.
Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
* * *
By the time Jonathan made a run to town after finishing up with the horses, it was past lunchtime. So he brought food from the Crab Shanty and hoped his new assistant didn’t have a horrible allergy to seafood.
He probably should have checked. He wasn’t really used to considering other people. And he couldn’t say he was looking forward to getting used to it. But he would rather she didn’t die. At least, not while at work.
He held tightly to the white bag of food as he made his way to the office. Her back was to the door, her head bent low over a stack of papers, one hand poised on the mouse.
He set the bag down loudly on the table by the doorway, then deposited his keys there, too. He hung his hat on the hook. “Hungry?”
Her head popped up, her eyes wide. “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in. You scared me. You should have announced yourself or something.”
“I just did. I said, ‘hungry?’ I mean, I could have said I’m here, but how is that any different?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have an answer to that.”
“Great. I have fish.”
“What kind?”
“Fried kind.”
“I approve.”
He sighed in mock relief. “Good. Because if you didn’t, I don’t know how I would live with myself. I would have had to eat both of these.” He opened the bag, taking out two cartons and two cans of Coke.
He sat in the chair in front of the table he used for drawing plans, then held her portion toward her.
She made a funny face, then accepted the offered lunch. “Is one of the Cokes for me, too?”
“Sure,” he said, sliding a can at her.
She blinked, then took the can.
“What?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“You expected me to hand everything to you, didn’t you?”
She shook her head. “No. Well, maybe. But, I’m sorry. I don’t work with my father anymore, as you have mentioned more than once.”
“No,” he said, “you don’t. And this isn’t a church. Though—” he took a french fry out of the box and bit it “—this is pretty close to a religious experience.” He picked up one of the thoughtfully included napkins and wiped his fingers before popping the top on the Coke can.
“How did you know I worked at the church?” she asked.
“I pay attention. And I definitely looked at the address you included on your form. Also, I know your brother. Or rather, I know of him. My sister is engaged to his brother-in-law. I might not be chummy with him, but I know his dad is the pastor. And that he has a younger sister.”
She looked crestfallen. “I didn’t realize you knew my brother.”
“Is that a problem?”
“I was trying to get a job based on my own merit. Not on family connections. And frankly, I can’t find anyone who is not connected to my family in some way in this town. My father knows the saints, my brother knows the sinners.”
“Are you calling me a sinner?”
She picked gingerly at a piece of fish. “All have sinned and so forth.”
“That isn’t what you meant.”
She suddenly became very interested in her coleslaw, prodding it with her plastic fork.
“How is it you know I’m a sinner?” he asked, not intending to let her off the hook, because this was just so fun. Hell, he’d gone and hired himself a church secretary, so might as well play with her a little bit.
“I didn’t mean that,” she insisted, her cheeks turning pink. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a woman blush.
“Well, if it helps at all, I don’t know your brother well. I just buy alcohol from him on the weekends. But you’re right. I am a sinner, Hayley.”
She looked up at him then. The shock reflected in those stormy eyes touched him down deep. Made his stomach feel tight, made his blood feel hot. All right, he needed to get a handle on himself. Because that was not the kind of fun he was going to have with the church secretary he had hired. No way.
Jonathan Bear was a ruthless bastard; that fact could not be disputed. He had learned to look out for himself at an early age, because no one else would. Not his father. Certainly not his mother, who had taken off when he was a teenager, leaving him with a younger sister to raise. And m
ost definitely not anyone in town.
But, even he had a conscience.
In theory, anyway.
“Good to know. I mean, since we’re getting to know each other, I guess.”
They ate in relative silence after that. Jonathan took that opportunity to check messages on his phone. A damn smartphone. This was what he had come to. Used to be that if he wanted to spend time alone he could unplug and go out on his horse easily enough. Now, he could still do that, but his business partners—dammit all, he had business partners—knew that he should be accessible and was opting not to be.
“Why did you leave the church?” he asked after a long stretch of silence.
“I didn’t. I mean, not as a member. But, I couldn’t work there anymore. You know, I woke up one morning and looked in the mirror and imagined doing that exact same thing in forty years. Sitting behind that desk, in the same chair, talking to the same people, having the same conversations... I just didn’t think I could do it. I thought...well, for a long time I thought if I sat in that chair life would come to me.” She took a deep breath. “But it won’t. I have to go get it.”
What she was talking about... That kind of stability. It was completely foreign to him. Jonathan could scarcely remember a time in his life when things had stayed the same from year to year. He would say one thing for poverty, it was dynamic. It could be a grind, sure, but it kept you on your toes. He’d constantly looked for new ways to support himself and Rebecca. To prove to child services that he was a fit guardian. To keep their dwelling up to par, to make sure they could always afford it. To keep them both fed and clothed—or at least her, if not him.
He had always craved what Hayley was talking about. A place secure enough to rest for a while. But not having it was why he was here now. In this house, with all this money. Which was the only real damned security in the world. Making sure you were in control of everything around you.
Even if it did mean owning a fucking smartphone.
“So, your big move was to be my assistant?”
She frowned. “No. This is my small move. You have to make small moves before you can make a big one.”
