by Julie Benson
McKenna picked at the couch cushion’s seam. “It was the oddest conversation I’ve ever had with her. When I asked why she changed her mind after all our planning, instead of answering, she apologized for not telling me herself and asked me to forgive her. Then she asked what I thought of you.”
He paused. His hand clutching a procedural manual twitched. “I bet you gave her an earful.”
Holding his breath, he waited for McKenna to answer. Would what she said change how his grandmother saw him?
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t.”
He stared at her, and his right eyebrow crooked upward. Why had she given him a break? Why hadn’t she blasted him with both barrels? “Why not? That was your big chance to get rid of me.”
“I’m not that petty. I know how close you two are. I’ve never had a relationship with my grandparents. My paternal ones died before I was born, and my mother’s disowned her. I refuse to be responsible for problems between you and Ginny.”
Relief rippled through him. In McKenna’s place, would he have been as magnanimous? “Thank you for that.”
Her back straightened and she clasped her hands in her lap. “I did it as much for me and Ginny as I did for you. It would’ve made me look unprofessional and vindictive.”
“Why can’t you simply say you’re welcome?” He shoved the book he held back on the shelf.
“I wish I knew why what you say rubs me the wrong way. But you are welcome.” Then she went on to say she’d asked Ginny why she thought he would be of help and how the older woman told her about Big Stake Games. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re part owner of the company that created Cowboys and Zombies?”
He shrugged, honestly not sure why he hadn’t told her. Could he have wanted to prove himself? When people heard he owned a gaming company they jumped to conclusions, like him being loaded.
“I love Cowboys and Zombies, by the way.”
“You do?” Who’d have guessed the first thing he and uptight, repressed McKenna agreed on other than wanting the best for Ginny was a video game?
“I’ve always fancied zombie movies and blowing them to bits is great stress relief.”
“Should I be concerned you’ll do the same to me if you’re stressed?”
She grinned. “You never know. So, watch out.”
And she had a sense of humor? “Guess I was wrong. You didn’t have your sense of humor surgically removed.”
“Humor has its time and place.”
He laughed. “Now that’s the McKenna I know.”
She folded her hands on her lap. “If you’d told me about your company, I might not have been so worried about you taking over.”
Zane nodded toward the office door. “Honey, I don’t believe that any more than I think little green men will walk through that door.”
She stiffened and blushed a pretty pink, brightening her face. He hoped she never realized how easy it was to rile her and how much he enjoyed it.
“Okay, so I’d still have thought I was a better choice because of my industry experience.”
After turning all the books binding side in, Zane turned the shelf itself backward.
“I dream of owning my own business.” McKenna’s eyes glowed with excitement. “Was it difficult getting funding? Do you have investors? Do you absolutely love being your own boss?”
“It has its advantages and disadvantages.”
“But the best benefit is you’re in charge of your destiny and the direction of your career. If you work hard, you reap the rewards.”
Most people might, but he hadn’t. He’d gone along with whatever his partner wanted. “You’re not happy working for Ginny?”
“I didn’t mean that. She’s wonderful, by far the best boss I’ve had.”
“What else can you say to her grandson?”
As he finished moving the bookcase and returned to sit behind the desk, McKenna frowned. “Do you assume everyone’s lying or am I the only one you do that to?”
“Everyone lies.”
“I don’t.”
“You haven’t lied about your weight or told a friend her haircut was great when it looked like someone cut it with sheep shears?”
“If you include stuff like that, then yes, I’ve lied.”
“Something’s either true or it isn’t. If not, you’re lying. The only difference is some folks lie almost constantly and on important matters.”
“That’s a sad way to view the world.”
Maybe so, but it kept him from getting his feet knocked out from under him.
“Whether you believe it or not, Ginny is fantastic to work for. Not all bosses are. My dad had lousy ones who made incredibly stupid decisions. Then when the business nosedived, what did they do? They laid off people like my dad.”
“The economy affects small, privately owned businesses as much, maybe more, than large corporations.”
“I know, but I’d be making the decisions.”
“It’s also true if someone else can’t step up, you have to. Everything is the owner’s responsibility, and sometimes that means you don’t have time for what you love doing which was why you started your business.”
“At least I wouldn’t have to move unless I wanted to. I could have a real home and put down roots.”
Rough childhoods. Another thing they had in common. “After Ginny told you about my company, what happened?”
McKenna admitted she and Ginny discussed how disruptive Campbell and other women had become with him in the office. “I expected she’d say you shouldn’t be there. But honestly, after that, our conversation is a blur. She said something about needing you in the office. I asked if she had problems with my work performance. Then she claimed there was too much work for one person, she wanted a break, and you misunderstood what she said. I was shocked when she said she wanted you to help with everything.”
Zane shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your conversation with her sounds a lot like mine. The question is, Mac, what do we do about it? I am not losing my weekends.”
Being around her that much might do him in. He’d never been one to resist temptation long.
She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. What had he said to tick her off now?
“Excuse me? Mac? I thought we dealt with my name before, but in case you forgot, it’s still McKenna.”
“No one’s ever called you Mac?”
“Never, and I’d prefer no one did now.”
Color flooded her cheeks. Her eyes glowed with intelligence, and he realized teasing her was the most fun he’d had in a month of Sundays. “You’re too stuffy. Look at the way you’re dressed and your hair.”
She smoothed a hand over the loose tendrils curling around her face, trying to coax them into submission before she admitted defeat and tucked them behind her ears. Then she wrapped her arms around her middle like a shield. “What’s wrong with my hair and what I’m wearing? They’re both professional.”
“My grandmother wears her hair in a bun, and in case you haven’t noticed, she’s a lot older.”
McKenna rolled her eyes. “Really? I’m glad you told me.”
He grinned at her sarcastic comeback. “Dressing in all black makes you look like you’re fixin’ to go to a funeral.” He chuckled. “Kind of ironic since you plan weddings.”
“I’m not wearing all black. My blouse is mint green.”
“Close enough. Have you seen how most women ’round here dress? Even New York City ones like Cassie and Grace?” When she glared at him, he continued. “They wear jeans, a shirt that actually fits, and cowboy boots. Have you ever thought how you look to folks in town?”
“I look like a competent professional.”
“Folks are still sizing you up. People want to know the person throwing their party is relatable and fun. They want to feel like they’re working with a friend.”
“People don’t want a friend. They have those. They want perfection without having to see to tasks themselve
s. Our clients want to know the person organizing the most important event in their lives is efficient, organized, on top of trends, and detail oriented. They value my years of industry experience, including having worked for the most in-demand wedding planning company in Houston.”
“If you’re too formal, it puts people off. If that happens, you never get to impress them with the rest. And your trends argument is a point in my favor. No one, not even a man, would think a woman dressed like you knows a lick about trends.”
She twirled her small pearl earring between her thumb and index finger. “Just because I don’t dress in the latest fashion doesn’t mean I don’t know the trends, and for your information, I’ve never been criticized for being too formal.”
“You’ve never worked in a small town before.” He walked to the large window on the far office wall and called McKenna over. When she stood beside him, he tried to ignore her lavender and mint scent as he pointed outside. “Look around, sweetheart. If you go a mile, maybe a little more east, you’ll see hay fields and cattle. This courthouse is the tallest building in town. It’s three stories. People here see being formal as putting on airs.”
“I never considered that. I’ll grant you know people here better than I do, so I’ll think about what you said. Thank you for telling me. I want to be an asset to Ginny, not a liability.”
What? McKenna admitted he had a point, said she’d consider what he said, and thanked him? Maybe he’d somehow hit his head and had a minor concussion.
“But back to what sent us down this rabbit hole,” she said with a tinge of irritation. “Since it’s my name in dispute, I’m the final judge, and I prefer you use the one my parents gave me.”
He resisted the urge to grin at the return of the take charge McKenna. “Noted.”
“Also, don’t call me sweetheart or honey. Other women you deal with might like that, but it’s not appropriate between business associates.”
“Is that another of your rules?”
“No, because I’ve never had this issue before.”
“It’s special being the first.”
She rolled her eyes again. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Pretty much.” He laughed. What had his grandmother once said? One person’s squabbling was another one’s dancing? His going around with McKenna proved the saying. “What do we do about Ginny wanting me at weddings and receptions?”
“I wish I knew. It’s only for a few weeks.”
“Easy for you to say since you’re used to not having a weekend.”
“I have two days off together. That’s a weekend. It’s merely different days.”
“If you spray perfume on a cow pie all you get is perfumed manure, and it doesn’t really smell better.”
Her nose crinkled. “Thanks for making me imagine what that would smell like, but I understand your point. Getting Monday off isn’t a fair trade for working Saturday. What do you suggest?”
She admitted he was right twice within minutes? Since he hadn’t hit his head, maybe he should worry the four horsemen had saddled up.
“We declare a truce and make the best of this.” The voice sounded like his, but how could those words have come from him? He thought for a minute but came to the same conclusion. “We don’t have another choice.”
“That sounds great on a theoretical level, but how do we translate it into concrete day-to-day working together?”
Damn. He thought they’d finished with their discussion, but McKenna had to know details. Scraping his knuckles across his chin as he pretended to ponder her question, he waited a minute. “We’ll take it as we go, and deal with issues as they arise.”
She shook her head before he finished speaking. “Oh, no, we won’t. We tried that. It was a disaster.”
What the hell? That line never failed with his designer team. They nodded, smiled, and said sounded good. But then none of them wanted to corner the market on control.
“We need to find middle ground we can both live with.”
“Middle ground? I doubt we could find it with a tape measure.”
She started laughing, but then tried to hold it in and snorted.
“Guess you like that one,” he said, and McKenna leveled him with a fierce stare, but he smiled. “After you’ve snorted, a glare can’t intimidate me.”
“Do you want me to share my idea or not?”
He chuckled one last time. “I’m done and ready to listen.”
“We kind of tried this when you first took over, but what if you defer to my judgment at weddings, receptions, and client meetings? Even in situations like the one with Campbell.”
“I have a couple conditions. One, if I strongly disagree with a decision, we discuss it.” She nodded and he continued. “Two, no dumping all the clogged toilets, mopping up barf, and every other disgusting task on me.”
“I never ask anyone to do something I’m unwilling to do, but I agree to your stipulations.”
He’d expected her to negotiate. Miracles happened. “I handle all remaining aspects of the business.”
“I’d like the authority to purchase small office items like pens.” When he nodded, she said, “Wow. We did that without a ruler or a labor negotiator.”
“We ready for AJ’s return?”
Her eyes darkened. What had he forgotten?
“There is one issue left. It has to do with the socializing.”
“You mean my personal life?”
“That’s another way to put it.” McKenna picked at the seam of her black slacks. “I know you disagree, but I’ve seen socializing with guests or the wedding party while coordinating a wedding cause serious problems.”
He believed she had his grandmother’s best interests in mind and could be she had a point, but he refused to completely cave. “Let’s meet halfway again. I won’t make the first move, but if a woman hits on me, I’m free to liven the night up with a little harmless flirting and date her after the wedding.”
Irritation flared in her eyes, making the tiny gold flecks shine. He could almost see the rebuttal ideas forming in her head vying to break free.
“Take it or leave it. Let me know what you decide.” Zane leaned back in the chair. He looked at the immaculate wood surface and smiled. Leaning forward he pressed his palms against the desk top. When he removed them, his prints remained. Instead of stopping there, he smeared his hands over the entire surface, smiling at the streaks left behind. Happy with his artwork, he leaned back again and propped his feet on the desk.
He really shouldn’t have made the last stipulation. Compromise was one thing, but he had to draw the line with this issue. She couldn’t dictate what he did with his private life, and he had to have some fun at the receptions.
Before she could answer, footsteps clicked on the tile floor in the outer office. “It’s awful quiet in there. I hope that means you’ve worked this out.”
Zane glanced at McKenna, still sitting ramrod straight on the love seat. “Have we?”
“Yes. We just agreed on the last issue.”
Go figure. Score one for him.
*
As they returned to the Horseshoe, McKenna couldn’t believe Zane and AJ joked and shot the breeze as if nothing had happened. How could Zane move on so fast after their experience tonight?
She sure couldn’t. In fact, how could she go back in the Horseshoe? She couldn’t. All she wanted was to go home and try to forget. When they crossed the street, she said, “It’s been a long night. If you’ll excuse me, I’m calling it a night.”
“You can’t do that,” AJ said. “Grace will lock me out of the house if you don’t come back.”
“You were worried about what people would think. What better way to say us leaving with AJ wasn’t a big deal than to return with him?”
Zane had a point, and because she didn’t want to get the chief in trouble with his wife-to-be, since they were clients, McKenna agreed to stay for a while. As Zane held the Horseshoe’s door for her, he said, “You’re
not at work. How about you dance with me?”
McKenna froze. Words refused to form. Zane had asked her to dance. With him. Again. The man had lost his mind. They said incarceration changed people.
You wanted to say yes before, and you want to more now.
“You said another time when you weren’t working.”
He remembered that? Ugh. She’d only said it to be polite to her boss’s grandson and because she never expected to be anywhere around him with dancing when she wasn’t working. Who’d have thought simply being courteous would come back to bite her on the butt?
“I never thought you’d take me up on that?” she said.
AJ snickered, and both her and Zane’s gaze flew to him. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Allergies.”
“That’s funny since you’ve never had any before,” Zane said before he turned to McKenna. “Throw me a good faith bone.”
When Zane phrased his request that way, dancing with him made sense. She could say yes without sacrificing her principles.
What about never having anything to do with a man who’s more attractive than you are?
In this case, the benefits of forging a good working relationship outweighed the risk of breaking her rule. She smiled. “In the interests of good company work relations, I agree.”
*
When they returned to the Horseshoe, Cassie, Grace, and Cheyenne clustered around McKenna. Her face grew heated with embarrassment and she tensed. How could she have acted so unprofessionally? What would they think of her now? How would Grace trust her planning her wedding after this?
“Are you okay?” Cassie, her beautiful face lined with concern, placed her hand on McKenna’s arm.
“I’m sorry you got caught in a pissing match between those two lug heads. It was inexcusable,” Grace said, her voice filled with irritation as she pointed to AJ and Zane.
Cheyenne shuddered, sending her thick red braid tumbling over her shoulder. “When AJ threatened me and Cooper with jail, I never really believed he’d go through with it. That could’ve easily happened to us if we hadn’t taken our discussion outside.”