It Started At Christmas…. Jo McNally
sat at the kitchen island and shared a bottle of wine as she outlined her and Bobby’s revised plans for the house from their meeting that afternoon. The conversation was strictly business, but oddly comfortable. There was something about Blake, when he wasn’t distracted and cranky, that calmed her perpetual undercurrent of tension.
The scaffolding went up the following week, with the marble floors covered with heavy canvas drop cloths. Halcyon was officially a construction zone. Blake left for the city early that morning, so he’d missed most of the noise and chaos. The surprise on his face when he returned that evening told her that, like many clients, he hadn’t grasped how all-consuming this project was going to be. She bit back a grin as he walked carefully around the ladders and supplies. It was a good thing he’d be gone for a while on that business trip because it was only going to get worse.
She poured two glasses of wine and walked out to meet him in the main hall. He was staring up at the scaffolding with a frown.
“Every good project starts like this, Blake.” She handed him a glass. “I know it seems overwhelming, but I promise I know what I’m doing.”
“I’m sure you do.” His words were more confident than his expression.
“Look, I know you’re leaving Friday…” Saying those words out loud stung more than she expected. They hadn’t spent a lot of time together. They’d shared a few meals, although there was never any cooking involved—he ordered food from the resort’s restaurant or got takeout. For breakfast, he’d just grab a bagel and leave her lingering over her much-needed morning coffee. They’d never discussed anything too personal but still, the conversations flowed easily enough. She cleared her throat and smiled up at him.
“I’d like to treat you to a home-cooked dinner here tomorrow night. No takeout.” His eyes widened in surprise, so she rushed to explain. “I want to do something to show my appreciation for…well, for everything. The job, certainly, but also for…being so generous. You know…after I lied and fainted and all that…”
He shook his head. “That’s not necessary, Amanda.”
“It is for me.”
He finally shrugged, looking away to take in the construction site again.
“Will we be dining on a table made from plywood and scaffolding?”
“No!” She laughed and he glanced back at her, smiling warmly. That smile caused her to stutter a little. Must. Stay. Professional. “The—the solarium is dusty, but it’s clutter-free right now, and there’s a small table out there. I think I can make it work for dinner. Is six okay?”
“You really don’t have to—”
“I want to, Blake. It’s just dinner.”
If it was just dinner, why did it feel like it might be something more? She shook herself mentally as Blake walked away. It was just dinner. It had to be. He was her client and she was a complete professional.
Blake stared at the reports spread across the desk in his office Thursday afternoon. He’d just finished a conference call with the construction crew in Bali. It was a good thing he’d be there soon, because things were moving far too slowly.
As usual, his thoughts drifted to Amanda. He couldn’t seem to escape her this week. For a petite little package, that woman managed to be everywhere
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