The Ashtons: Jillian, Eli & Charlotte: Just a Taste / Awaken the Senses / Estate Affair. Bronwyn Jameson
“There’s no need for that,” she added in a more reasonable tone. “Cole should be getting used to my additions and changes.”
“Yeah?” The focus of that narrow-eyed interest shifted. “What else have you changed since Monday?”
“Uniforms. These—” she held her arms out a little, showing the claret polo shirt all the tasting-room staff wore “—have to go.”
“Too stuffy?”
“And not individual enough. The marketing campaign is based around Louret’s individual hands-on approach and attention to detail. So, Mercedes and I decided we needed non-uniform uniforms. We’ll have a range of separates—tops and bottoms—in the same palette of colors, but every one different according to our own tastes.”
Seth nodded, seemingly impressed. She was impressed that his eyes hadn’t glazed over as Cole’s and Eli’s had when she pitched the idea to them. Not that they weren’t interested in the tasting room’s vital function at Louret, more that they weren’t interested in wardrobe choices.
Plus they’d both been distracted lately by the ongoing legal meetings over Spencer Ashton and the Lattimer estate.
“So, you’re after a bright and relaxed atmosphere and a functional, comfortable work space.”
“Yes, that’s it exactly!” Seth Bennedict didn’t only understand her plans but the reasoning behind them, and that set him apart from every other builder she’d spoken to.
That and the fact that he was here, tape measure and notebook in hand.
“So.” She drew a slow breath in a bid to steady the nervous let-this-work-out churning in her stomach. “Does this mean you are going to quote?”
“Yes.”
Yes! But she contained the urge to punch the air, needing to ask one more question. The biggy. “Is this a serious quote, Seth? Do you really want the job or are you only humoring me because I practically begged?”
He looked at her strangely. “I’m sorry. Did I miss the begging?”
“The other morning, at the stables.” She waved a hand in that general direction, but she did not want to go back there. She did not want to remember the desperate edge of panic that had driven her to swallow her pride and ask, straight out, for his help. “You said you’d take a look, no promises. What changed your mind?”
For a second he looked right at her, and something in his eyes made her draw herself back, as if that might deflect the impact of all that dark intensity. Then he hitched a shoulder and answered ever so casually. “Like you said, it’s a small job. And I’ve decided to take the opportunity to get my hands dirty.”
Oh, my Lord, it would be Villa Firenze all over again. The dangerous glint in his eyes. The masculine scent of hard work and hot muscles. The glimpse of his skin, glistening with sweat. Her own unaccustomed reaction, part fascination, part run-like-hell terror.
Jillian swallowed. “You’re going to do the work yourself?”
“Yeah. I’m looking forward to it.”
“But you said you were booked solid right through summer. ” She scrambled to bring order to her thoughts. “How will you fit this in?”
“By juggling and overtime. Will working at night present any problems?”
Yes, no, probably not. Frowning, she considered the situation. If he worked nights, there’d be less disruption. Less bitching from Eli about builders under his feet. “No, that would work,” she said slowly. “But what about Rachel?”
He stared at her a moment. “I thought you wanted me on this job.”
“I do. Yes. Absolutely.”
“Then stop reminding me why it’s not going to be easy.”
“Okay,” she said, exhaling in a long rush. “But promise me that if there’s ever a problem with Rachel and child care, you’ll let me know.”
“Rachel’s not your problem, Jillian.”
“I know that.” And she had no reason to feel stung, no matter how she felt about his little girl who’d lost her mother due to Jason’s recklessness.
Not your fault, she reminded herself. You had no influence over him. You couldn’t slow him down, settle him down, or keep him satisfied. You can’t hold yourself responsible for his actions.
She lifted her chin and looked Seth square in the eye. “And I don’t want to create any problems for her, either, Seth. You’re doing me a big favor here. Let me do this one small thing in return.”
“If it’s ever an issue.”
“You’ll call me, let me help you out?”
She didn’t think he would relent, and he did so finally with the barest inclination of his head. A small acknowledgment rather than any kind of surrender, but that was enough.
Unlike his brother, Seth Bennedict was a man of his word and Jillian intended to keep him to it.
Four
Eager to get his quote approved and the project underway, Jillian had convened a meeting with her brothers and sister for late Friday afternoon. No problem, Seth assured her, when she called and asked him to attend. His sister was coming up from San Francisco for the weekend. Eve could leave earlier and babysit Rachel.
He didn’t count on the trailer rollover and Eve’s phone call from the middle of traffic chaos. His housekeeper Rosa had already left for a weekend off. What could he do but get on the phone and reschedule?
“Sorry, but it’s too late to arrange another sitter,” he explained to Jillian.
“Where is Rachel now?”
“I’m about to pick her up from day care.”
“Bring her with you,” she said. “We’ll shift the meeting to the house. Caroline will love the chance to spoil her.”
Seth frowned, not because of the Caroline-spoiling thing but because his daughter had a shy streak. She hadn’t ever met any of Jillian’s family. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
There was the tiniest hint of a pause. “You said you’d let me help out with Rachel. Are you going back on your word, Seth?”
Hell.
“We’ll see you in half an hour, then.”
Twenty-eight minutes later Seth pulled up outside the Vines.
Still dressed in her work uniform, Jillian jogged down from the portico of the big rustic house before he’d even turned off the engine. Like she’d been watching for his arrival. The kick of that notion—Jillian waiting for him—resonated through his body as she approached, a warm and welcoming smile curving her lips.
A warm smile welcoming his back seat passenger.
His gaze flicked to the rearview mirror and found it filled with his daughter’s anxious little face. Her thumb went straight into her mouth. Damn. After Karen’s death he’d vowed never to let work come before his daughter. He should not have compromised that vow. He should not have brought her here.
By the time his boots hit the ironstone drive, Jillian was unstrapping Rachel from her car seat. But she didn’t grab her and swing her into her arms. Nor did she overpower her with meaningless remember-me? prattle. Hunkered down by the open door, she smiled quietly at his daughter and fixed on the perfect opener.
“Is that Pinky Pony?” She leaned back a fraction and inspected the toy Rachel held clutched to her chest. The one Jillian had given her last Christmas. “I’m so glad you brought him back to visit with me and his friends.”
Slowly