Share the Moon. Sharon Struth
and acted as if he were searching for something. “I’m sorry, Kevin. How much did you say?”
Sophie strolled to the large windows overlooking Hartford. Heavy traffic on the street below seemed oblivious to the lovely crisp autumn day or the fall foliage beyond the city limits.
He cleared his throat, but she didn’t turn. Ignoring his request still gave her the upper hand, something she clung to with strange desperation at this moment.
“Good. Fax me the price quote. We’ll take it from there. Anything else?”
She sensed his stare through his pause in conversation.
“Thanks, Kevin. Then we’ll talk in the morning.” He hung up. “Hello, Ms. Shaw. Give me another second to refill my coffee. Would you like some?”
Ms. Shaw? She turned around. “No thank you.”
He nodded and lifted a mug printed with a simple blue and white image of a sailboat, confirming her guess sailing was one of his hobbies.
Even during her rant in the parking lot, he’d called her Sophie. She blew out a breath and leaned closer to the window, noting how high up they were. Did this higher altitude change his attitude toward her?
A traffic jam blocked the intersection below. A driver attempted to make a left-hand turn from the far right lane. Right now, her emotions were in the dead center of an internal jam, confused by the unexpected turns of Duncan Jamieson. She wished Gabby were here instead of her.
Awareness of his presence from behind fell over her, followed by the waft of his familiar cologne.
“Gorgeous view, huh?” His softer, less businesslike voice landed near her ear.
“Lovely.” Her peripheral vision caught him close enough to touch yet far enough away to be appropriate.
“Especially over there.” He pointed at the horizon and his arm brushed her shoulder.
She followed his finger and noted a space in the distance, where dots of evergreen added color to leafless treetops. His arm returned to his side, but an invisible impression where he’d grazed her shoulder remained.
His tone dipped, quiet enough to be a thought he didn’t intend to say out loud. “Reminds me that my new home in Northbridge isn’t far away.”
The motives for his closeness left her suspicious. “Well, Connecticut’s the third smallest state in the nation.” She took a step to the side and faced him. “You can pretty much see everything if you stand dead center.”
He provided a pity grin to her stupid remark.
She vowed not to say one more sarcastic thing for the rest of this meeting.
He offered his hand. “Good to see you again.”
His handshake meant business, but was appropriately tempered for a female grip. The warmth reminded her of the moment he’d taken her cold hand right after she slipped.
“Sorry I’m late.” She gently pulled away and dropped her gaze to the floor for a second, where she concentrated on his shiny black wingtips. A path of distrust with this interviewee was prudent.
“No problem. Let’s sit.” He motioned to the seating area. “You know what they say, though?”
She settled on the sofa. “About what?”
“Punctuality.” He lowered himself into a chair across from her. In the bright daylight, slivers of gray threaded in the sandy-colored curls near his temple stood out. “It’s the soul of business.” The handsome company president tilted his head, as if his little quote taught her a valuable lesson.
“Oh? I’ve heard punctuality is the virtue of the bored.” Her close-lipped smile felt starched, not normal. “And please, call me Sophie.”
His mouth crumpled and he nodded. “Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.”
“When the paper’s owner sends a direct request, we oblige.”
His cheek muscle twitched. Cliff would give her a “tsk-tsk” over the bitchy dig. Why couldn’t she simply have said, “You’re welcome”?
“Let’s clear up any misconception about this meeting.” He folded his hands in his lap and crossed an ankle on his knee. “After our last conversation, I didn’t expect to hear from your paper again. That’s why I contacted Will Steiner. He’s been a friend of the family for years.”
Heat brushed Sophie’s cheeks, but she grabbed the opening. “I understand. Look, about what happened, I’d like to apologize for my reaction after the hearing.”
He raised his light brows. “Oh?”
“Learning your real identity surprised me.”
The slight movements of amusement played at the corners of his mouth. “Does being surprised always make you angry?”
“No. Being lied to does.” The angry snipe escaped without warning. “Anyway, I hope you’ll forgive me.”
His face melted into a pensive stare. “Thank you, but I must confess something. I planned to apologize to you today. The first time we met, I wasn’t truthful with you.”
A sarcastic sound seeped from Sophie’s throat.
“I had a reason.”
“So that made deceiving me okay?”
He held up a hand. “May I finish?”
She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Buzz told me the town was split on the resort plans. I didn’t plan to mislead you. At the kayaks, after the way you spoke about how much you hated RGI….” He paused for several drawn-out seconds then his deep voice shifted, softer and more personal. “You hated me, too, for bidding on the land. I scrounged for any manner to stay in your good graces.” He dipped his chin and stared into his mug. “It’s tough to be the bad guy.” He looked up. “Especially when meeting a beautiful woman.”
The hard finish of her prior opinion cracked. She hadn’t expect this, especially because he’d laughed at her flirting remark after the hearing. Her folded arms slipped apart.
He stared. “Are we okay?”
“Yes, of course.” Sophie tried to sound sincere but still didn’t trust him and had a job to do. “How about we start this interview?” Before he could answer, Sophie tipped her chin toward the tape recorder. “Mind if I record? You seem busy so this would be the fastest way to get through this.”
“Um, sure. Go ahead.” His forehead wrinkled, some hesitation obvious.
She pushed forward with questions about his background; how he got into the resort business. She wanted to get this over with since everything about this guy unwrapped her like a gift at Christmas. He discussed college at Stanford and how, a year before graduation, the idea for RGI developed with his college roommate and current partner, Ross Manson, during a semester abroad in Spain.
“Why develop on Blue Moon Lake?”
“Ross lives in Westport and fishes around there. One day we were discussing untouched and more remote places to build. He mentioned Northbridge. Kind of surprised me since my father’s family owned a home near the covered bridge. We only visited a few times, but those were memorable summers.”
“Does your family still own the house?”
“No. After our last summer there, Dad sold the place.”
Veronica’s comments at ladies’ night took on some possibility. “Why? Sounds like your family enjoyed the location.”
Duncan did a double-take on the question and frowned. “I don’t know.”
Sophie scribbled, Dad sold a year after last summer in NB, then scanned her questions to give him a second with his