“You want to go fishing, there’s gear in the garage and Grey’s Lake awaits.”
“How come so close-mouthed? Not your usual MO.” He appeared to turn the question over in his mind. “Wait a minute. Not that general contractor?”
Ned didn’t answer.
“Are you out of your mind? You know better than to mix business with pleasure. How many times has that backfired for you in the past?”
As much as he resented Mike’s interference in his personal life, he couldn’t defend himself against his friend’s admonition. Had Fiancée Number One, Gillian, his untrustworthy band manager, not tied them up in Europe, he could’ve gotten back to see his dad before he passed away. Hooking up with Shae was a dumb idea. He’d told himself as much ever since he met her. Why hadn’t he listened?
Mike shook his head repeatedly, like he couldn’t believe what had gone down. “You’ve changed, man. You never threw caution to the wind, took such chances before.”
“Did I say I’d been with her?”
“Didn’t have to. Your denial confirms my suspicion.”
Ned pushed away from his keyboard. “If I had, what would be so wrong with that? She’s a decent person.”
“I didn’t attack her character. Just reminded you that you are paying her to do a job for you, a construction job. If you share the same bed, what will you do if her company doesn’t follow through on its obligations?”
Ned considered Mike’s question. “Fire their asses, I guess.”
“You guess?” Mike’s voice rose. “Not the words of someone who’s made this multimillion dollar investment.”
“Hey, I’m still the guy in charge, the one who pays the bills. She knows that.”
Mike released a long sigh and held up his hands in surrender. “That’s my say. Whenever I voice my concerns about something, you dig in more. So I’m done.”
Once Mike was out of the room, Ned added, “For now.”
Good thing he’d turned the recorder on while he composed, because he had no idea what he’d put together. He’d told Mike a bunch of crap to keep his friend from questioning the heavy metal chords and high volume of his frustrations. Funny thing, though. His ideas, disconnected as they were at the moment, made sense, despite the complicated reasons he’d sought out the music room.
He’d returned to Mike’s in the middle of the night after he woke to discover he once again shared a bed with Shae. Only this time, they were both under the covers and he was buck-naked. Last night had been no escape-to-the-trailer, only-one-bed-available kind of thing. No, last night they’d both deliberately chosen to share the bed.
Back at the Mansion after a shower—a cold one—he’d tried to sleep, with little success. The memory of that blue-green gaze that had induced him to stay and make love to her wouldn’t go away. Once those eyes fixed him with their resolve, free will had flown out the door and left only raw physical need in its wake. The CIA should have such a weapon.
It had been great. Hell, it was the best sex he’d had in ages, if ever. Shae had been great, not just her body, or her participation, but her take on the whole experience. No strings, no regrets. Yeah, she’d cuddled afterwards, a female thing that spoiled most of his other booty calls, but she’d backed off when he hadn’t responded in kind. Fell asleep, actually. His guys hadn’t been up for a second go round. When he’d come to several hours later, she was on her side of the bed, her back to him.
Why did he vacillate between the memory of something pretty damn toe-curling and something else akin to…what—guilt? Nah, couldn’t be. He’d done nothing wrong. Hadn’t pushed, merely responded to her invitation. Been the perfect lover. Lingered over certain areas to give her pleasure to the point where he thought he would implode.
After sleep had evaded him for two hours, he’d resorted to his music. Mike had turned over what the family euphemistically called their music room to him. It contained no musical instruments except Ned’s keyboard, which had only recently taken up residence. However, in deference to, or in defense of, the period in high school when Mike thought he might join Ned’s band, the Woodleys had soundproofed the walls.
He’d gone into free-fall, let his feelings emerge in his music. Other than the mansion’s gym, this was his only option to let it all hang out. Only after every confusing emotion had expressed itself on his recorder would he stand a chance of deciphering what the hell he’d gotten himself into the night before.
****
Ned was gone by the time Shae came awake the next morning. No surprise. She hadn’t expected him to stick around. Still, it cut that what she considered a pretty spectacular night of passion ended without fanfare.
She dressed with little thought to her wardrobe and made herself eat a bowl of cereal even though she wasn’t hungry.
She was about to leave for the site when her phone rang. “Ms. Harriman? This is Cheryl Park, your dad’s case manager at Blackhawk Hills. Could you come over right away? Your father has packed his bag and is ready to leave.”
“Leave? I thought he still had a few more weeks of rehab time with you.”
“Correct. But he doesn’t agree.”
“I’ll be right there.” She threw her things together and ran for the SUV.
Her father had taken up residence in one of the lobby chairs by the time she arrived, his bag on his lap, his expression locked in permanent disgust. “Dad? What’s this all about?”
“I told them not to call you. I’m still a competent adult who can make his own decisions.”
She pulled over another chair. “Of course, you can make your own decisions. Apparently the latest is to leave. But why—did something happen?”
He inhaled deeply, then blew it out in a huff. “That’s just it. Nothing’s happened.”
“You mean your heart’s not doing better? I’ve heard otherwise.”
“I meant me. I’m doing nothing. The ticker’s getting all the attention. I just sit here, lie here, day after day, the highlight of my agenda when they take my vitals.”
Should have known. Should have anticipated this and prepared the staff. But her mind had been elsewhere the last several days, what with the storm and the revised work schedule. And Ned.
Cheryl Park, whom Shae had met the day her father checked in, came up to greet her. “Good morning, Ms. Harriman. Your father and I were just discussing his progress. It’s been remarkable, considering the shape he was in when he arrived.”
Tim Harriman crossed his arms in front of him. “If it’s so remarkable, why can’t I go home?”
The case manager shifted her attention to her client. “Because your body still has a ways to go to repair itself. That will happen much faster if you remain here where we have the equipment and expertise to help you.”
“My dad is bored. What can we do to help him?”
“Bored? Then why have you turned me down, Mr. Harriman, every time I’ve suggested an activity? The only time I’ve seen you up and about was the day you played checkers with your daughter.”
Shae’s father scowled. “Let’s put it this way—I’m not into needlepoint, Bingo, zumba—whatever that is—ceramics, and God forbid, certainly not Mah Jongg.”
“Check,” Cheryl acknowledged. “You’ve got me, Mr. Harriman. What I should have done was ask you what you wanted to do.”
“Leave. But that doesn’t seem to count.”
She had the grace to smile. “What else?”
He glanced back at Shae. “I want to be back running my company.”
“We’ve talked about that. It’s what got you here in the first place.”
He tightened up again. The case manager meant well, but she didn’t seem to realize the pro she was up against when it came to hard heads. Shae needed to think fast and come up with something to appease him. “He’s allowed to read, isn’t he?” she asked.
“Yes, of course. There’s a fairly well-stocked library on the premises, and anything we don’t have we can get from local libraries.”
&
nbsp; “How about technical stuff?”
The case manager considered. “Depends. Would it get him riled up?”
“More likely put him to sleep. He could review the various permits we’ve obtained for our construction project.”
“Hello? He’s still here. And he’d like a say in this.”
Both women turned to Shae’s father, eyebrows raised.
“That all?”
“For now,” Shae replied. “We’ll make it a test to gauge how much you can handle. Not your brain. I know that’s loaded for bear. But your stress level.”
The Park woman angled her head. “What do you say, Mr. Harriman? Your daughter’s come up with a great idea.”
“I’ll ask Dave to bring some over this afternoon,” Shae told her dad.
“Why not one of the guys? I miss ’em.”
“Let me check with your doctor,” the other woman said. “We’ll start with one at a time. Accompanied by Mr. Hale.”
Shae’s dad grimaced, but behind his expression, Shae detected a look of triumph.
Eruption averted. At least for today. But Shae didn’t fool herself. Her dad’s acquiescence would last only so long. Needed to plan now for how she would counter the next move. It was almost cathartic to deal with her father. Took her mind off the previous night. At least for a while.
Back at the site, the first thing out of Dave’s mouth was, “How’s your dad?”
“The old Tim Harriman is fighting to take control of the new, healthier version. He was packed and ready to leave when I got there.”
Her superintendent glanced behind her. “Don’t see him. You must’ve won this round.”
“Barely. Agreed to send him that stack of permits to review. We’ve put them off.”
Dave gave her a thumbs-up. “Good thinking.”
As they headed to the trailer, an older female voice called from behind them, “Hello?”
Dave recognized her first. “You’re Ned’s mom, right?”
“That’s right. Janice Collier. You both attended the meeting at my gallery a while back.”
Shae extended her hand. “Mrs. Collier. Nice to see you again, although I’m not sure Ned’s here yet.”
“He’s not. I’ve just come from what he now calls his mobile office. No one’s there.”
Had he slept late after his busy night?
“Ned suggested I wait to come out here until my house was framed, but my curiosity got the better of me.” She surveyed her surroundings. “I grew up out here, you know. Already looks a lot different from the landscape I knew.” Her tone had assumed a wistful quality.
“Right now, all you’ll see are these holes for the foundations with nothing more than the footings, rebar, and pans inside them. The rough-in plumbing will go in today. But I think you’ll like the results, once we’re done,” Shae said.
“I’m looking forward to living here. It will please Ned.”
Interesting insight into their mother-son relationship. This whole development began when Ned wanted to do something for his mother, and apparently she’d agreed to move here for his benefit.
“I wish I could tell you when Ned will show up, but his schedule’s somewhat unpredictable.”
Janice Collier patted Shae’s hand and chuckled. “I’m quite used to his sporadic comings and goings. I’ll head back to town and wait until construction is a little further along. Do you have time to walk me back to my car? I had another reason to visit here today.”
Dave said good-bye and made tracks for the trailer.
What did the woman want? Surely his mother hadn’t learned Ned spent the night and had come to warn Shae off? No, she wouldn’t be so friendly.
“I’d like to invite you to a showing at my gallery next week,” Janice said, as she picked her way over the rough ground.
And there it was. “A showing?” Shae repeated as she attempted to buy time to frame a polite refusal.
“I’ve come across a wonderful new landscape artist I want to feature. I’ve invited the usual suspects, but I also want to include some people who may not frequent art galleries but have some interest in the land. Like you.”
“Me?”
The older woman pulled up and focused her smile on Shae. “Why, yes. You work with the land every day.”
“True, but I, uh, don’t buy art. For me or our properties.”
Janice Collier waved a hand. “Don’t worry about that. That usual suspect group I mentioned will do the buying. Provided we pique their interest. Me, or people like you, whose opinions may carry more weight.”
Shae scrunched her face. “Why would they listen to me? I’m only the acting general contractor, while my father recuperates. I’m a civil engineer by training. Civil engineers aren’t typically known for their appreciation of art.”
“Maybe.” She leaned in to Shae. “You’re also very attractive. Even though I’m sure as modern-day women we reject the idea that sex sells, we’re also both realists who would privately agree it does.”
Now she had Shae’s interest. “Are you saying you want me there as…what do they call it—eye candy?”
“Call me Janice. May I call you Shae? I grew up at the time feminism came into its own. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the gains women have made since then. Those gains have made it possible for me to run my own business.”
Why her? There were a lot more attractive women in town who could more readily drum up business for the gallery. “Thank you for the invitation, Janice. But I have to beg off.”
Janice frowned. “Oh? That’s a disappointment. Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”
By now, they’d reached Janice’s car, an older model hybrid sedan. The woman was so…nice. Shae was almost sorry to turn down the invite. “I, uh, I’m not very good at things like your showing.”
Janice cocked her head to appraise her. “Really? Have you ever attended one?”
She had her there. “No, but I meant events like your showing, where people get all dressed up and stand around and make small talk.”
“Uh-huh. What part don’t you feel comfortable with, since you’re making small talk with me right now? If you’re concerned about wardrobe, I’d love to go shopping with you. Just name the day.”
She’d neatly dispensed with both Shae’s excuses. Only one other card remained. Shae pretended to give in. “Okay, you got me on both counts. You’ve forced me to admit I don’t know anyone I could bring as my guest.”
“That’s the easiest part to fix. I’ve already conned my son into attending. I’m sure he’d be happy to bring you as his date, which should make this ordeal more palatable for both of you.”
She’d been had. Janice had manipulated her into a corner. “You’re good, Janice.”
The older woman offered a shy smile. “I’ve been told that. Is it a deal?”
Shae let her shoulders sag. “When? I may already have plans for that night.”
Janice gave her the date. Of course, she was free. She groaned inwardly. And she thought her business dinner with Ned had been a challenge.
Chapter Seventeen
Ned threw down his cell. “Damn!” He’d thought Shae was different. But as it turned out, she was just like all the other women he’d ever slept with, who told him one thing—she wasn’t interested in a relationship—and did just the opposite—got herself invited as his date to his mother’s showing. Going through his mother to get to him was a cheap shot. A huge disappointment in her credibility.
When he charged out of the RV in search of her, he spotted her near one of the excavated sites. The sub she talked with moved off. Perfect time to confront her. No, he couldn’t. He told his mom he’d escort the general contractor to the showing, although she was not to set him up again.
As he approached, he said, “I hear we’re going to my mom’s showing together.”
She took a step back, obviously hadn’t expected to see him again so soon after the previous night. “Yes. Earlier, she made the trip out here to view th
e progress on her house, but she left since you weren’t around.”
“So she told me. I got involved composing a new piece and lost track of time.” Maybe if he’d been here, he could’ve impeded Shae’s machinations. Too late now.
“This was her first time here, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. Wish she’d called first, but those things happen.”
Shae turned to leave.
“About the showing?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
She flicked her head, her ponytail swished behind. “That’s okay. You’re off the hook. It was your mother’s idea for you to escort me. I tried to get out of it, but she cut me off at the pass.”
Just plain low, attributing the invite to his mom, and now offering to release him from the obligation. “She’s really looking forward to this event. Let’s not disappoint her.”
She shrugged. “Okay. Your call. I’ve got to check on another site. See you.” She took off.
She was going to play it like it didn’t matter the least to her. Women. Why couldn’t they be up front with a guy?
At least he’d broken the ice from the previous evening. Hadn’t known what he’d say to her after he’d slipped out in the middle of the night. She hadn’t even mentioned last night. She was so playing him. Just like Gillian and Julie, his backstabbing, moneygrubbing ex-fiancées.
She’d gone behind his back to his mother. How would she like it if the tables were turned and he sought out her dad’s participation in his life? Interesting thought. While he digested how to best use it, he’d give her wide berth.
He spied Dave at a lot down the road from the first group of excavations. He’d get an update on the project from him rather than Shae.
As he sidled up to the superintendent, he asked, “How soon do you plan to dig that one?”
Dave swiveled. “Hi, there, Ned. Haven’t seen much of you today.”
“Spent some time on my music. You didn’t need me, did you?”
Like Shae, Dave mentioned the visit from his mother. “Admitted she hadn’t called first, but she was disappointed you weren’t here.”
Tough Enough to Tango Page 17
