Negotiating for Love

by Sharon C. Cooper

  She pushed against his chest. “I’m … I’m sorry. This can’t happen. I have to go.”

  She pulled out of his grasp, but not before he saw the sadness in her eyes. Something he had never seen before.

  “Martina wait.” He reached for her, but she dodged him, hurrying out of the building as if being chased.

  A sigh slipped through Paul’s lips. He ran a frustrated hand over his head and swore under his breath.

  I don’t know what’s going on with you Martina Jenkins, but I have every intention of finding out.

  *

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Martina hurried to her truck, unable to get in fast enough.

  What had she been thinking? And how the hell had she let him shake her like that? And that kiss…

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Clearly she wasn’t over him. She just wanted to believe she was. She hoped that she was. But nope. She still had it bad for the junior senator from Ohio.

  Martina laid her head against the steering wheel, her heart racing like an express train. She had no respect for women who allowed a man to make them lose all common sense. She had made a conscious decision years ago not to be one of them. However, here she was falling under a man’s spell because of a kiss.

  How could she have let him kiss her? His kisses were like kryptonite. Yet, she allowed those enticing lips to touch hers. Had he not pulled back, there was no telling how long they would have remained in that lip lock.

  “Ugh!” She screamed, pounding her hand on the steering wheel. She sat up straighter. “That’s it. I’m done. I’m not going to keep subjecting myself to this nonsense. I am a grown, intelligent woman capable of saying no to a man.”

  Martina repeated those words to herself several times. After a few deep breaths, she glanced around the parking lot, glad that Paul hadn’t run after her.

  How had she let any of this happen? She wasn’t supposed to fall for any man. All the years of keeping men at a distance should have prepared her for Paul.

  She shoved her key into the ignition and started the truck, finally feeling sane enough to drive. She’d had a momentary slip. No more crazy thoughts about his eyes, mouth, or the way he could make her melt with just a kiss. From now on, she was staying away from romantic relationships. And most importantly, she was staying away from the likes of Senator Paul Kendricks.

  Chapter Six

  Paul drove his Escalade up the winding hill of the residential neighborhood of Mt. Adams. Toward the home his grandfather had left him in his will. Melancholy settled in his chest remembering the man who had taught him practically everything he knew. From how to cook, to how to win a debate, Paul owed so much to his grandfather.

  He crept up the street, already appreciating the scenic views that overlooked Cincinnati. He had been to the house only twice since his grandfather’s passing, six months earlier. Until recently, he hadn’t been sure what he wanted to do with the home. The only thing he knew for sure was that he would never sell.

  Seconds after parking his truck in front of the three car attached garage, Davion pulled up alongside him.

  “So why are we here?” Davion asked as they walked up the concrete stairs to the house.

  “I’ll tell you once we get inside.”

  Paul turned on a few lights, illuminating the wide, open space. His grandparents had lived in the home only a few years before his grandmother died. That had been ten years earlier. Once she was gone, his grandfather didn’t stay in the house, saying that it wasn’t a home without his beloved Constance. He also refused to sell the place.

  “Okay, so what’s going on?” Davion strolled into the outdated kitchen and leaned against the counter, his arms folded across his chest. “Are you planning to finally move in here?”

  “I’m thinking about it.” Paul stood at the floor to ceiling windows in the living room, the panoramic view of the river and the city sparkling below. The million dollar views were his favorite feature of the house.

  He turned and did a cursory glance over the living and dining room. The open floor plan allowed him to also see into the kitchen. The place had such potential, and it was time he turned the home into the gem he envisioned.

  “I want to hire Jenkins & Sons Construction to update the first and second floors before I move in.” The first floor needed the most work, especially the kitchen, whereas the second floor was mostly cosmetic.

  Davion’s brows rose, and the left corner of his lips turned upward.

  “Isn’t that the company where the carpenter, who went off on you a few days ago, works? Didn’t you say her family owns the business?”

  Paul sighed and ran his hand over his head. “Yeah. It is.”

  Davion laughed. “So of all the construction companies to hire, why that one? Why would you want a group of people who hate you, working on your house?”

  “They don’t hate me.”

  From what Paul had heard of Steven Jenkins, Martina’s grandfather who started the company, Jenkins & Sons had the reputation of being the best in the business.

  “Okay, well we know one of them hates you. As a matter of fact, I think she referred to you as the lowest form of human life.” Davion laughed.

  Paul couldn’t stop his smile from appearing. He had seen Martina heated on a number of occasions, but that Saturday she had been livid. Yet, he knew she didn’t hate him.

  “I need you to do me a favor,” Paul said to Davion. “I want you to call Jenkins & Sons and hire them to do the work on this house.”

  “Why can’t you call?” his cousin asked, but realization showed on his face as he moved into the living room, standing in front of Paul. “Let me guess. You want the cute little firecracker, I mean Martina, to work on the house.”

  “Exactly. Since most of the renovations will require a carpenter, I want her. The only way we’ll go with the company, is if Martina is the carpenter and oversees the job.”

  Davion shook his head and chuckled. “Why? The woman has made it clear that she can’t stand you.”

  “Because she’s the best damn carpenter in the city. Our political views might be different, but I know for a fact that her carpenter skills are top-notched, and I want the best on this project.”

  “No, you want her back in your life. What I don’t understand is why you need me?”

  “I’m not sure how Martina would respond if I called and hired the company. She’s second in command there and I don’t want to give her any reason not to take on the job.” Actually, he knew exactly how she would respond if he called directly. First, she would accuse him of playing some type of game and then she would assign another carpenter to the job. But he needed her to see the house and renovate it, knowing she would fall in love with the place. Which is what he wanted.

  “So what? You want me to pretend this is my house? And what if she saw me with you that Saturday at the hotel?”

  “No, you don’t have to pretend this is your house, and where you were sitting in the banquet room that morning, I doubt if she saw you. Besides, she was too busy glaring at me. Anyway, I want you to be the go-to person. If asked, you can assure them that you can make all decisions for the owner. Oh and I want you to take any suggestions Martina gives regarding the house.”

  “You’re going to put that much trust in this woman?”

  “She won’t steer you wrong. She might be a hothead, but she’s very serious about her work. I’d like for them to start working as early as next week if possible. I’ll be in D.C. off and on for the next month. So if asked, you can just say the owner is out of town.”

  “Okay, whatever you want, man. Just tell me what you want me to do. If there’s a chance for you to get your woman back, the least I can do is help.”

  His woman.

  Martina wasn’t into labels, but what she had been at one time, was his woman. This idea was a little underhanded, and she was going to have a fit when she found out she had renovated a home for him, but he really did think she was the
best.

  “All right. Let me use the bathroom and then you can tell me what you want to do to the place. Oh and for the record, I think it’s a dumb idea to deceive her. This ain’t you, man. This ain’t you.”

  Yes, his planned seemed a little deceptive, but Martina left him no choice. She wasn’t returning his calls, not even the messages he had left at her job. Her cousins, Peyton and Toni, had assured him the messages were delivered. Martina ignoring Paul led him to stoop to such measures.

  It was way past time they talked – really talk – without her running away from him. He shouldn’t have waited this long, but prior to seeing her two weeks ago at the hotel, he thought he had moved on. However when he sat and talked with her at the coffee shop, he knew he hadn’t.

  Paul couldn’t understand how he had allowed himself to fall for such a difficult woman. But if he were honest, he would have to admit that she was a complicated mix of sugar and spice. Exactly what he liked.

  “There you go again, staring off into space. You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Davion said when he walked back into the front room. “Show me all that you want your woman to take care of.”

  He and Davion walked through the 4000 square foot home as he explained his ideas. For the first time since finding out his grandfather had left him the house, Paul was looking forward to the renovations. What he wasn’t looking forward to was coming face to face with Martina when she found out he owned the home.

  “Something I don’t understand,” Davion started as they returned to the first floor. “Why would you want to be with a woman who’s not interested in marriage and having a family when you know that’s what you want?”

  Two years earlier, when Paul had turned thirty-eight, he had started thinking more about settling down and having a family. It wasn’t until he and Martina dated that he felt he finally found someone he could spend the rest of his life with. She was easy to talk to, most days, and they had fun together. She challenged him like no other, making him a better man. The more time he spent with her, the more he saw her as being perfect for him.

  “I honestly don’t know if she doesn’t want to get married and have a family. Or if, for some reason, she’s afraid of the idea. But I won’t get a chance to find out if I don’t convince her to talk to me.”

  Paul was ready for the next chapter in his life, and whenever he thought of the future, he saw Martina in his plans. He wanted her back. And he intended to have her. All he needed to do was find out what she had against being in a committed, life-long relationship.

  *

  Martina grabbed her bucket of tools from the back of the work van and sat it on the ground. She preferred driving her personal vehicle to jobs, but she didn’t think the little Chevy pickup could handle the daily forty-five-minute commute this latest job required. The distance wasn’t so much of a concern as was the narrow, winding streets that went up hill. She loved her little truck, but the last thing she needed was for it to stall out.

  Her apprentice, Blaine, parked on the side of the van. A recent high school graduate, he had started with the company a few months ago, but this was the first time he worked with Martina.

  He removed his tool belt from his trunk.

  “Hey, MJ.”

  “What’s up, kid?”

  “Not much.”

  “God I love this house,” she said as they strolled up the front walkway. They stood in front of the house and stared out over the city of Cincinnati below.

  “You’ve said that every day for the past few weeks.” Blaine shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight.

  “I know. I know. I need to soak it all up since we only have about another week before this job is done.” It had been awhile since she had been assigned a project that she looked forward to. There was nothing in the world she would rather do than carpentry work, but not all jobs were created equal.

  They walked into the house and oddly enough, Martina felt as if she were arriving home. The same sense of peace had washed over her when she arrived there four weeks ago and had intensified each day after.

  She and Blaine carried their tools into the kitchen and set them on a small piece of cardboard near the door that led to the back deck. Martina glanced around, pleased with how the space was shaping up. The antique gray cabinets had been installed, and the appliances were delivered three days ago. All they had left to do in the kitchen was to finish installing the hardware for the cabinets.

  “It’s been cool to help with the renovations on this place,” Blaine said leaning against the sink counter, his hands shoved into the front pockets of his baggy jeans. “Thanks for letting me work with you. It’s been a good experience.”

  “No problem, I’m glad you think so. Usually, Peyton assigns third-year apprentices to the jobs like this, so you lucked out.”

  “She said you requested me.”

  Martina smiled as she set the hardware for the cabinet doors on the counter next to Blaine. “I did request you.” Though she hadn’t planned on telling him. “I’ve watched you work, and I think you have potential. I wanted to see firsthand what you could do, and I must admit, I’m impressed. You did good kid.”

  Blaine grinned as if she had just offered him a million dollars. “Thanks! I’ve wanted to work with you, but I thought you didn’t work with newbies.”

  “I made an exception.”

  Martina was picky about who she worked with since she usually took on the company’s special projects and top priority jobs. She chose apprentices who already had a few years of on-the-job training, but Blaine stood out. Not because he was over six feet tall and lanky, but because of his eagerness to jump in and get his hands dirty.

  They had gotten along from day one. He laughed at her antics and wasn’t bothered by her dry sense of humor. She also appreciated that he didn’t shrink under pressure or during those times when she got a little tough about doing things right the first time.

  “Okay, shall we get to work?” she asked.

  “Definitely.”

  Once Martina got Blaine started with the cabinet doors and hardware, she glanced around the kitchen. The space wasn’t overly large, but one side opened into the great room, making the area feel like one large room.

  Martina ran her hand over the granite slab sitting atop of the custom-made island she had built herself. When she suggested to the owner’s friend, Davion, that she could build the perfect island for the space, he’d told her to go for it. As a matter of fact, he seemed willing to accept all of her ideas. Occasionally they had clients who were eager for their opinion, but they were so far in between until Martina had forgotten how good it felt to use her creative liberties on a job.

  I guess I should get some work done.

  On her way to the front of the house, she stopped at the far end of the great room to finish installing the crown moldings. The view outside snagged her attention. Whoever had designed the home was brilliant in putting the wall-to-wall windows at the front and the side of the house, easily bringing the outdoors in. The spectacular scenery stopped her in her tracks periodically throughout each day, stirring up dreams of owning a place in Mt. Adams.

  Martina sighed and set up her ladder. Even if she worked the rest of her life, she wouldn’t be able to afford anything like the five bedroom, four bathroom home, but she could dream.

  Two hours later, Martina noticed Christina coming up the walkway.

  “Wow, they’ve already moved furniture in here,” Christina said when she walked into the great room. She set her buckets on the tarp near the front entrance and pulled a large rubber band from the back pocket of her jeans. “When I was here four days ago this place was empty. Now look at it.”

  “I know, right?” Martina walked across the room to her cousin. “You were supposed to be here hours ago. What took so long?”

  “Peyton asked my team to stop by the Landmark project to knock out a small job before coming out here. Everyone else should be arriving in a few minutes.”

  “Oh g
ood.” Martina pulled on one of her cousin’s long curls. “I know you have this flower child, hippie thing going on,” she pointed to Christina’s big, curly hair and tie-dye T-shirt, “but don’t you think it’s time for a haircut?”

  “Yep,” Christina said, the rubber band dangling between her teeth as she wrestled her hair into a ponytail. “But I can’t. Luke likes my hair just the way it is.”

  “What does the thug lawyer know? He’s not the one who has to maintain that bush.”

  Christina rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  Martina had dubbed Christina’s live-in boyfriend the thug lawyer because he had more swagger than any lawyer she’d ever met. As a defense attorney, he had recently moved to Cincinnati from New York looking for a slower life than the east coast offered. He was also there to build a life with Christina.

  Once her cousin finished messing around with her hair, she grabbed the buckets and paintbrushes and walked farther into the home. “Seems the owner has expensive taste,” Christina said of the furniture that had been delivered the day before.

  “Yes he does. I like his style. The rich colors make the room pop.”

  Instead of a typical sofa and love seat in the great room, the owner went with four upholstered chairs surrounding a glass and wood coffee table arranged to encourage conversation. The other half of the long room was used as another sitting area. Clearly he planned to do a lot of entertaining.

  Martina followed Christina up the stairs, but stepped into the room that would be used as a den. The large, plush furniture and a sixty-inch television mounted on the only solid wall was calling her name. She could just imagine herself camped out watching football games on Sundays.

  “By the libidinous expression on your face, I guess you like the den,” Christina said when they met in the hallway.

  “I love the den, but chill with the stupid big words. You know I don’t know what they mean.”

  “You could stand to build your vocabulary.”

  “My language is fine.”

  “I beg to differ. Using words like crap, stuff, chill, and stupid means your vocabulary is lacking.”