by Shirley Jump
If that was so, why had Finn gone to all this trouble to set up such a romantic tableau?
“How…when…” She let out a breath. “This is incredible, Finn.”
He grinned. “Thank you.”
“How did you do it?”
“Remember that rest stop we went to on the way back from Rhode Island?”
She nodded.
“I made a few phone calls while you were…indisposed.”
“A few fast phone calls. And clearly productive.”
“I’m a man who likes to get things done.” He reached for her hand, and she let that happen, wondering when touching Finn had become so easy or if she was just telling herself it was to preserve the mood, and then they walked forward onto the private terrace of his building, temporarily transformed into an outdoor dining room.
Just as Finn pulled out her chair, music began, a soft jazz floating from an unseen sound system. A waiter emerged from a door at the side, bearing a tray with water glasses and a carafe filled with two bottles—one a chilled white wine, the other a sparkling grape juice. He placed the water glasses on the table with merely a nod toward Ellie, then uncorked the wine and juice, pouring Ellie’s nonalcoholic version first, then Finn’s wine, before disappearing back through the door again. Finn had remembered she didn’t drink, and had clearly put a lot of time and thought into the entire evening. Why?
He raised his glass and tilted it toward her. “To…partnership.”
“Partnership,” she echoed, and ignored the flutter of disappointment in her gut. In the end, they would go their separate ways, and for that, Ellie was glad. She didn’t need the complication of dating Finn, of a relationship. Just enough information and time with him to effectively pretend…
Pretend they were in love. “And to business,” she added, for herself as much as him. “Only.”
CHAPTER SIX
THE glint of gold caught Finn’s eye before he was fully awake. It took a second before he remembered why he had a ring on his left hand. And why he was waking up in a room he didn’t recognize.
Last night. Marrying Ellie Winston. The rooftop dinner. The rings he’d given them—purchased earlier that evening by his assistant and delivered to the terrace before they arrived—so the two of them had the outward evidence of a marriage.
Then, after a dinner that alternated between tense and friendly, bringing her to her townhouse, and by mutual agreement, he’d spent the night. In the guest room.
Of his wife’s home.
From outside the room, he heard the sound of music. Something upbeat…a current pop hit. He got out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants from the bag he’d brought with him and padded out to the kitchen. Everything about Ellie’s townhome was like her—clean, neat, bright. Lots of whites and yellows with accents of blue. It was the complete opposite of his heavy oak, dark carpet apartment. Softer, more feminine. Nice.
Ellie was standing at the kitchen sink, her hips swaying in time to the music as she filled a carafe with water. She was already dressed for work in a pale blue skirt and a short-sleeved white sweater. Her hair was curled, the tendrils curving over her shoulders and down her back in tantalizing spirals. Her feet were bare, and for some reason, that made him feel like he was intruding. It was such an unguarded, at-home kind of thing.
And oh, so intimate.
In the light of day, the reality of moving in with Ellie presented a bit of a dilemma. Like how he was going to resist her when she was right there every day, in bare feet, humming along to the radio. How was he going to pretend he hadn’t felt anything with that kiss in the courthouse?
Because he did. He’d thought about it all last night, tossing and turning, a thousand percent aware she was also in bed, and mere feet down the hall. He’d made a concerted effort to keep their celebratory dinner more like a board meeting than a date, but still, a part of him had kept replaying that kiss. And had been craving another.
Hadn’t he learned his lesson already? Getting distracted by a relationship left him vulnerable. Made him make mistakes, like nearly marrying someone who wanted only to destroy him. He saw where that kind of foolishness got a person—and it wasn’t a path he wanted to travel.
So he forced his gaze away from her bare feet and her tantalizing curves, and cleared his throat. “Good morning.”
She spun around, and nearly dropped the carafe. “Finn. Oh, hi. I almost forgot…” A flush filled her face. “Good morning. Do you want some coffee?”
“Yes. Please.”
She busied herself with setting up the pot, then turning it on. When she was done, she pivoted back to him. “I’m sorry I don’t have much for breakfast. I’m usually running out the door with a muffin in my hand.”
“A muffin’s fine. Really. This whole…thing was unexpected.” His gaze kept straying back to the ring on her hand. He was now the husband of Ellie Winston. No…Ellie McKenna.
Just a few days ago he’d been thinking how he wanted a relationship without any drama. One based solely on common interests, none of that silly romantic stuff that clouded his brain and muddled his thinking. Now, he had that—
And for some reason, it disappointed him like hell.
What was he thinking? He didn’t need the crazy romantic notion of love. He needed something steady, dependable, as predictable as the columns in his general ledger. The problem was, there was a part of Ellie that Finn suspected, no, knew, was far from predictable. And that was dangerous.
The song shifted from pop to a ballad. The love song filled the room, stringing tension between them.
“I have, uh, blueberry and banana nut.” She waved toward the breadbox. “Muffins, I mean.”
He took a step farther into the kitchen. The walls were a butter-yellow, the cabinets a soft white. No clutter that he could see, merely a few things that added personality—a hand-painted ceramic bowl teeming with fruit, a deep green vase filled with fresh daisies, and a jade sculpture of a dragon, probably picked up in China. It seemed to suit her, this eclectic, homey mix.
Beside him, the coffeepot percolated with a steady drip-drip. The sun streamed in through the windows, showering those curls, those tantalizing curls, with gold. He wanted to reach up, capture one of those curls in his palm. “I’d love one.”
“Which?”
It took him a second to realize she meant which flavor, not which he wanted—her or the muffins. “Blueberry, please.”
“Sure.” She pivoted away, fast. The breadbox door raised with a rattle. Ellie tugged out the plastic container holding the muffins, then spun back. The package tumbled out of her grasp and dropped to the floor. Muffins tumbled end over end and spun away, spinning a trail of crumbs. Ellie cursed.
Finn bent down, at the same time Ellie did, to reach for the runaway muffins. They knocked shoulders and Finn drew back. When had he become so clumsy? This wasn’t his usual self. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, it’s my fault.” She reached for the muffin closest to them, at the same time he did. Their hands brushed. She staggered to her feet, nearly toppling, and reached out a hand to steady herself. It connected with his bare chest, just a brief second, before she yanked her palm away.
A jolt of electricity ran through Finn. His gaze jerked to her face. Ellie’s eyes were wide, her lips parted. “Sorry,” he said again.
“No, I am.” She looked away from him, back at the floor. “I can make toast, if you prefer.”
Toast? Muffins? Had she been affected at all by that accidental touch? “I’m not hungry. I should get to work.”
Yes, get to work, get to the office and get on with his day. Rather than indulge in any more of this craziness. Get his head clear—and back on straight.
“I’ll clean this up,” she said, gesturing to the mess on the floor. “If you want to hop in the shower and get ready
.”
“Sure, sure.” He dumped the crumbs in his hand into the trash, then turned to go.
“Finn?”
His name rolled off her tongue, soft, easy. For a second, he wondered what it would be like to hear her say his name every day. Every morning. Every night. He turned back to face her, taking in those wide green eyes, the sweet smile that curved across her face, and yes, those bare feet. “Yeah?”
She shot him a grin. “Coffee’s ready.”
* * *
Coffee’s ready.
A heavy blanket of disappointment hung over Finn while he got ready. Hell, what had he expected her to say? Stay? Kiss me? Take me back to the bedroom?
No, he didn’t want that. He wanted exactly what he had—a platonic relationship that let him focus on work and didn’t send his head, or his world, into a tailspin.
Except the image of Ellie in her kitchen, swaying to the music and doing something so mundane as making coffee, kept coming back to his mind. He had lived alone for too long, that was all. That was why the sight of her affected him so much.
He got ready, then headed out the door, leaving Ellie a note that he had to stop by his office and would meet her at WW later. He knew it was the coward’s way out, but he’d been thrown by waking up in her place. It was all moving so fast, and he told himself he just needed some time to adjust.
Later that morning, he was heading up to the tenth floor of the building housing WW Architects, flanked by Noel and Barry, two of his best architects, who’d met him in the lobby. The team Finn brought in had been part of the bidding process, and was already familiar with the Piedmont hospital project, so the trio exchanged small talk until they reached Ellie’s floor. A few minutes later, an assistant led them to a conference room where the WW staff had already assembled. Ellie stood at the head of the table. Her curly blond hair was now tucked into a tight bun, the bare feet were clad in sensible black pumps, and her curvy figure hidden beneath a jacket that turned the blue skirt into a suit.
She was all business now. Exactly what he wanted.
Then why did he feel a sense of loss?
“Thank you for coming today, gentlemen.” Ellie made the introductions between her team and Finn’s. Finn headed to the front of the room to stand beside Ellie. “Before we get started, we…I mean, Finn and I, have an announcement.”
She exchanged a look with Finn. He nodded. They had talked about this last night, and decided the best way to spread the news was fast and first. “We…Ellie and I…we got married.”
Jaws dropped. People stared.
“You got married?” Larry asked. “As in…married?”
“Last night.” Ellie nodded and smiled, the kind of smile that reached deep into her eyes, lit up her features. Just like the smile of a happy new bride. “It was an impromptu thing.”
“You married her?” Noel scowled at Finn. “Is that why we’re working together?”
Finn wasn’t about to tell their employees the real reason he had married Ellie. If he did, it would taint the project. No, let them all think it was some act of passion. Cover up the truth with a lie.
A lie that a part of Finn wished was true. The part that was still thinking about coffee with Ellie and seeing her in the kitchen. “Not at all. Working together is just a…fringe benefit,” Finn said. “Ellie and I agreed to merge our companies for this project. After that, we go back to being separate entities.”
Ellie leaned in and grabbed his arm. That same jolt of electricity rushed through his veins. “Separate business entities at least.” She grinned up at him and for a half a second, he could almost believe she loved him. Damn, she was good at this.
“You eloped last night?” Noel let out a little a laugh. “I don’t believe it. I’m sorry, Finn, but I just don’t see you as the eloping kind.”
Explaining that the practical, methodical Finn they all knew had done just that was suddenly much harder than he’d expected. “Well, I…I…”
“Blame it on me,” Ellie said, pressing her head to his arm. “I didn’t want the fanfare of a big event, and so I told Finn, let’s just run to the courthouse and get it done. Then we can all get back to work.” She peered up at him, her eyes soft and warm. “We’ll take that honeymoon a little later.”
“Uh…yeah,” he said, his thoughts running rampant down the path of what a honeymoon with Ellie would be like. When she was looking at him like that, he could almost believe this was real. That at the end of the day, they were heading back to a little house in the suburbs with a fence and a dog and a dinner on the stove. And more—much, much more—after the dishes were done and the lights were dimmed. “We’re, uh, planning on leaving as soon as this project is done.”
“Well, then congratulations are in order,” John said. He shook with Finn, then Ellie. “Best of luck to both of you.” The rest of the group echoed John’s sentiments. They congratulated, they shook and they beamed. And Ellie pulled the whole thing off with nary a blink.
“Okay, back to work. We have a major project ahead of us, and not a lot of time,” Ellie said. “So as much as we’d love to take time for a celebration, we need to dive in and work until we have the particulars hammered out.”
Larry, one of Ellie’s architects, grumbled under his breath, but didn’t voice any objections. The rest of the team seemed to be giving Finn’s people the benefit of the doubt. “I appreciate you bringing us in on this project, Ellie,” Finn said, rising to address the group. “I’m confident that by combining the experience of both McKenna Designs and WW Architectural Design, we can create a hospital that will outshine all others in the New England area.”
Ellie shot him a smile. “That’s our goal, too.” She opened the folder before her. “Okay, let’s get to work. Piedmont wants this design to be groundbreaking. One of the key elements that sold them on WW as the architects was our innovative approach. Rather than basing the design on existing models, WW talked about approaching the design process from the patient’s perspective, from admission through discharge. The challenge is to create an environment that creates a healing atmosphere, one that offers warmth with minimal noise, while also keeping patient safety as the top priority.”
“Excellent ideas,” Finn said, nodding to Ellie.
“Thank you. Although I have to admit that one of the challenges we are having is creating that warm, healing atmosphere. WW specializes in corporate buildings, which aren’t usually described as cozy.” Ellie gestured toward Finn and his team. “I think if we combine our expertise in the safety arena, with yours in environment, we’ll have a winner.”
“I agree.” Finn sketched out a drawing on the pad before him, then turned it toward Ellie and the others. “We’ll design standardized rooms, where every medical element is in the same place, no matter what floor or wing, yet also give each room its own flair. Install ambient lighting in addition to the harsher lighting needed for procedures, and soundproof the space so patients aren’t bothered by constant pages and hallway traffic. Studies have shown that a warmer, quieter space speeds patient healing.” Finn filled in another section of the drawing, sketching in fast movements, limited in details, focused on getting the bare bones on the page first. “We should also provide a small visiting area in each room for family members. Nothing huge, but something far superior in comfort and flexibility to the current models in today’s hospitals.”
“What about pricing? That kind of thing is going to raise the costs.” Larry scowled. “Piedmont will not be happy.”
“Easy,” Finn said. “We call the vendors and tell them that they’re going to be part of a groundbreaking new hospital. One that will have plenty of media coverage. They’ll be jumping at the opportunity to be a part of that, and be very amenable to lowering their pricing.”
“In other words, beat them up until they cave?” Larry said.
“I think it
’s a good strategy,” Ellie said. “Thanks, Finn.” She clapped her hands together and faced the room. “Okay, what else?”
As if a wall had been dismantled, the room erupted with ideas, people from both teams exchanging and brainstorming, no longer separated into an “us” and “them,” but becoming one cohesive unit, brimming with creativity. Ellie got to her feet and jotted the ideas on the whiteboard behind her, quickly covering the wall-length space. Finn pulled out his computer to take notes, his fingers moving rapidly over the keys of his laptop. It occurred to him somewhere into the first hour that he and Ellie made a good team. Neither tried to outtalk the other or prove their idea the best. Their thoughts seemed to merge, with her suggesting one thought, and him finishing it. He was so used to being the one in charge, the one who had to pull the team together and take the lead, that suddenly sharing the job was…nice. When the group broke for lunch, Finn stayed behind in the room.
“We work well together,” he said, rising and crossing to Ellie. He picked up a second eraser and helped her clean off the whiteboard.
She smiled. “We do indeed.”
Out in the hall, the team was whispering and exchanging glances in the direction of the conference room. “Seems we’ve got people talking,” Finn said.
“It was bound to happen. Though I thought we’d have a little more time to…”
“Work out our story?”
“Yeah. We should have talked about it more last night. I really didn’t think that part through.”
“Me, either. I was too focused on work.”
She laughed. “I know what you mean. That’s how my days have been, too.” She moved away from him, then stretched, working out the kinks in her back. He was tempted to offer her a massage, but instead he kept his hands at his side. A massage was definitely not part of this…partnership.
“You pulled it off well,” Finn said. “Hell, even I believed…”
She cocked her head. “Believed what?”
“That you were wildly in love with me.”