His By Christmas. Teresa Southwick
but no one had ever said he didn’t treat the people around him well. Still, she’d pictured a heartless beast, and this unexpected thoughtfulness was a nice surprise. After fixing herself a plate, she sat on the plush chair to his right. “How did you break your leg?”
“Skydiving.” He met her gaze. “What happened to yours?”
“You noticed the limp.” She’d heard about his attention to detail and the demand for it from anyone he worked with. So he wouldn’t miss much. Still, she hadn’t anticipated his blunt question. She should have. There was no reason not to tell him, but he didn’t need to know she’d lost more than her runway-model strut. “Car accident.”
“Ah.”
She took a bite of fish and nearly groaned out loud, it was so good. They ate in silence for several moments, long enough that the need to fill it became necessary. “So, skydiving. You’re one of those sanity-challenged, adrenaline junkie thrill seekers who jump out of perfectly good airplanes on purpose.”
“Yes.”
Thank goodness she wasn’t drinking anything when he smiled, because it rocked her like a 9.5 earthquake. He was a handsome man even with a serious expression on his face. But the smile made a girl want to raise her hand and shout, Over here. Fortunately she didn’t choke, spit or utter a sound to embarrass herself, but it took several moments to gain solid mental footing again.
“Apparently the parachute opened,” she observed. “Or the damage would have been much worse.”
“I landed wrong.” He shrugged. “It was a clean break and the doctor assured me it will heal quickly.”
“Good. Are you in pain now?”
“It’s been several days, so not much.”
Justine knew a thing or two about pain, but didn’t push him. Everyone handled it in their own way, and she was curious about something else. This assignment was supposed to last for a month so it begged the question, “Did you have any other activities planned besides skydiving?”
“Scuba diving. Parasailing. Rock climbing. For starters,” he said.
“Bummer. So why not just cancel the vacay? You’ve obviously changed your plans and are going to work. Wouldn’t it be easier to go home and schedule more time here when you’re healed?”
Something that looked a lot like stubborn determination hardened his eyes and tightened his jaw. “The view is a lot better here.”
“I can’t argue with that.” She looked through the patio doors to the luxurious, private, crystal clear pool, the pristine white sand and the ocean that stretched as far as the eye could see. “It’s something special. But so is the scenery at home. The lake and mountains take my breath away.”
He stared at her for several moments, then seemed to realize he was doing it. “So, you’re part of the advance team from Dallas setting up the new office in Blackwater Lake.”
“Yes.”
She’d found the charming, rapidly growing town a good place to open her business. She’d been saving and moved to Montana with the idea of working there until she had enough start-up money. It never occurred to her that an opportunity like this would come along to speed up her timetable. Now that she thought about it, the offer had escalated because Cal Hart had a reputation for being difficult and demanding, and no one else who was clerically qualified had wanted it. So far he had not lived up to his advance billing.
Justine finished eating and set her plate on the table. “That was delicious. Thanks.”
“Is there anything else I can get you?” he asked.
“No.” She toyed with the cloth napkin still in her lap. “It was nice of you to think of this. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting it.”
“What were you expecting?” He didn’t sound defensive, just curious.
“Everyone said you’re a difficult boss who works twelve-to fourteen-hour days and requires your employees to do the same.”
“You’ve been talking to Shanna.”
“She’s a friend. And having a lovely cruise, by the way.” At his quizzical look she added, “Ships have internet. She emails. There was even one warning me not to take this job with you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.”
“So why did you?” he asked.
“Do you have any idea what you’re paying me?”
“A lot, apparently.” He shrugged. “I can afford it.”
She had no doubt about that. The question was, could she? He had her for a month. It hadn’t occurred to her that four weeks in paradise with a man who wasn’t a bastard and looked like a movie star could be a very long time.
“So do you want the good news first? Or the bad?” Justine asked.
It was late afternoon on their first full day of working together, and Cal was stretched out on the corner group with his broken leg propped on a pillow. He glanced up from his laptop, focusing on his new assistant, who was sitting at the desk. Her red hair was parted on the side and pulled back into a messy side bun. She was wearing black, square-framed glasses that made her look smart and sexy, a one-two punch that had his gut tightening, not for the first time.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “What was the question?”
“I’ve got good news and bad. Are you a get-the-bad-over-with-first kind of guy? Or a put-it-off-as-long-as-possible sort of person?”
“There’s something to be said for both. So...surprise me.” He’d been surprised by many things since she arrived yesterday. What was one more?
“I just received a preliminary environmental report on the wind farm property in upstate New York, and so far there’s no negative impact on the animals, fish or ecosystem in the area affected by the project.”
“Just a guess, but I’d say that’s the good news.”
“It is.”
“And the bad?”
“The people aren’t as open-minded as the wildlife. They’re circulating a petition to squash the project.” She slipped off her glasses. “The land is flat and the turbines are tall, visible for miles.”
“They have to be tall. The higher they are, the more wind is harnessed.” Even he heard the frustration in his voice.
“Protests are in the beginning stages. There may be some things you can do to sway public opinion and get everyone on board with this. Or at least the majority.” She shrugged. “Can’t please all the people all the time.”
What could I do to please her?
Cal couldn’t believe he’d just thought that. He was uncomfortable and it had nothing to do with his broken leg. Working with Justine was disconcerting. She was smart, efficient and seemed to know what he needed before he did. It had gone really well if you didn’t count the part where he wanted to turn the lie about his active sex life into the truth. With her.
Redheads weren’t even his type, but that didn’t seem to make a difference. Maybe it was her eyes—brown with flecks of gold and green. They were different. Exotic. Mesmerizing and calm at the same time.
Beside him on the coffee table, papers were scattered around along with file folders and his cell phone. A half-empty coffee mug was right in the middle of the chaos, like a circus ringmaster. Her desk, on the other hand, was tidy to the point of making his teeth hurt. And it was time to get his head back in the game. There was a lot to accomplish, and one of her responsibilities was to clean