Sweeping The Bride Away. Michele Dunaway

      Chapter Two

      Blade needed a break, and not an endless coffee break like his secretary still seemed to be on. Bidding on—and winning—the job to build the state’s newest revenue office should have been a piece of cake. But it wasn’t turning out that way, and Jake was annoyed.

      Blade hated it when Jake, his best friend and business partner, was annoyed. It always spelled trouble.

      “We’re up against D. W. Braun, and it’s down to just us two,” Jake said.

      Blade sat forward, letting the back of his leather chair thump him gently in the back. He knew there was more. “What do they have on our bid?”

      “I’m not sure.” His partner, and technically the company co-president, paced the room anxiously. “I’ve heard on the street that D.W.’s put money into some political campaigns.”

      “Figures.” Blade gritted his teeth. “So much for the lowest bidder.”

      “Come on, Blade, we know it’s rarely the lowest bidder. It’s the bidder with the longest tentacles who can justify all the expenses and pad the congressmen’s pockets. That’s why public projects always run over budget.”

      “Not with our company.”

      “Of course not.” Jake knew Blade was as honest and ethical as they came, and their company had a reputation for the same. “But we’ve only been bidding on public projects for the past two years. We’re new in this arena. We usually do private, like the renovation of the old Caferelli warehouse into an upscale hotel and lofts.”

      “I want this project,” Blade said. “We have the best design and the best company for the job. I want to see us diversify from just office buildings and 200,000-square-foot retail developments.”

      “Exactly,” Jake agreed with a short nod. “We want to diversify. To do that we’ve got to get out there on the social scene. Make some political contacts. Show them we’re serious about running with the big boys.”

      “That’s your job.” Blade took a mechanical pencil and tapped it, top down, on the mahogany desk. “I may own a half dozen custom suits, but I don’t wear them unless I have to. You win jobs—I work the field and make sure we come in under budget and on time.”

      “Yeah, but we want to continue to grow, don’t we?”

      “Grow?” Blade snorted his disbelief. “We’re the fastest growing commercial contractor in the nation. We did two billion in revenue last year.”

      “Exactly. Two million less than the year before.” Jake sounded as if two million was the end of the world. “Come on, Blade. I want this company to be one of the top in the country, and so do you. Right now we’re number ten in Houston and thirty-third in the nation.”

      “And we’re not satisfied with that?” Blade asked. Their growth had been so phenomenal they’d passed companies in business for generations, not a mere eighteen years.

      “Of course we’re not satisfied,” Jake replied. “We made a goal when we graduated high school that we’d never settle. Remember?”

      The ringing of Blade’s desk phone interrupted the conversation. He frowned. He’d left orders not to be disturbed. Obviously the temp at the front reception desk had screwed up again. Already this morning she’d disconnected three important calls.

      Blade checked his tone. No use scaring the temp. He could replace her tomorrow. Better yet, he’d have his secretary do it. “Hello?”

      “Hello,” the female voice on the phone said slowly. Blade stopped tapping the pencil. Not the temp, and not one of his former girlfriends. He would have recognized one of their voices. Still, the voice sounded oddly familiar.

      “I’ve gotten lost in the phone system twice now. I want to speak with Blade Frederick about fixing some code violations.”

      Great. The temp had screwed up. J & B did not do code violation repairs.

      “Lady, we’re—” Blade began, but she cut him off before he could finish.

      “Please,” she said, her voice a breathy rush. “I need Blade Frederick. He said he could help me and I’ve tried everyone else. I have four pages of predications. You should have seen the guy. He just kept writing. If it weren’t for Lillian I never would have been in this fix.”

      On the other end of the phone Cassidy bit her tongue. Had she just said that, again?

      In his office Blade waved off Jake’s curious look and silent whisper of “Who is it?”

      It was the girl from last night, and no, Blade himself couldn’t believe it. She’d called. Last night he’d left the bar long before she had, and he’d spent a sleepless night dreaming of her. He hadn’t woken up in a hot sweat like that since he’d been a randy teenager.

      And she’d called. Unbelievable. He’d certainly lost that bet with himself.

      He steadied his tone before speaking. No use giving away too much yet. “You do know we’re a commercial contractor.”

      Sitting in her home office, Cassidy had no idea what that meant. “No,” she said. “Look, I need to talk to Blade. I need him.”

      Blade shifted. That was not an image he needed at 11:00 a.m. Didn’t she know what a seductive voice she had? He should tell her she had him. “You’ve got him.”

      “Oh.” Cassidy never felt so out of her element.

      “Look, I’m a little busy right now, but how about you fax the list to me and I’ll take a look at them?”

      Cassidy shifted the cordless phone to her other ear. So much for worrying about him hitting on her. Far from it.

      “All right,” she replied, her ego just a bit dented that she’d worried for nothing. She fingered the list that sat on her desk. “What’s your fax number?”

      Blade gave it to her. “I’ll send it right over,” Cassidy said. “I can’t thank you enough. My neighbor Lillian, I told you about her, she kept telling the inspector she was a senator’s wife. The more she talked, the more he wrote.”

      He’d heard all that before. “Fax it over and give me a number where I can reach you.”

      “Okay,” Cassidy replied. “Oh. By the way, I’m Cassidy.”

      “Great, Cassidy,” Blade said, deliberately keeping his tone professional. “Send it over and I’ll get back to you.”

      “Uh, thanks.”

      “No problem.” Blade set down the phone before she had a chance to say anything else. He chuckled.

      “What is it?” Jake asked.

      Blade leaned back in his swivel chair and linked his hands behind his head. “I met this woman in the bar last night. Pretty thing, one of those rich women who live around the medical center and Rice University. The building inspector hit her up for four pages of violations.”

      Jake gave a low whistle. “And she called you?”

      Blade stretched and shook his head before he sat forward. “Well, I gave her my card.”

      Jake looked impressed. “You dog. I didn’t think you still had it in you. You’ve been out of the scene awhile.”

      “Yeah, well, I told her I’d find her a handyman. I really didn’t think she’d call.”

      “She probably figured out how much you’re worth.”

      “That’s the funny part. She has no clue. She wants me to find someone to fix her home predications. She thinks I’m some redneck, not a CEO.”

      “But you didn’t