by Sara Daniel
“Barney, she’s not here for cigarettes. She’s Veronica Jamison,” Matt said as he entered the store, carrying a huge bucket that read ALL-PURPOSE JOINT COMPOUND. She had no idea what that was, although the bucket looked heavy. She’d have to research it in her book.
The clerk’s head snapped up, and his eyes narrowed. He didn’t look bored anymore, but he didn’t exactly appear friendly, either. “So you’re moving into the trailer park? Let me get you a box of doughnuts as a welcome present.”
“Actually, I need disinfecting wipes and lubricating oil.”
“The doughnuts are a better deal.” He waddled over to a dust-covered tray, picked up an equally dusty empty box, and began filling it with what might have once been chocolate doughnuts but were now merely gray-white lumps of construction dust.
She attempted to keep her expression politely neutral. “That’s very nice of you, but I really do need some cleaning supplies…”
“Nonsense. You’re malnourished. You need doughnuts.” He dumped the entire tray into the box.
A white cloud puffed between them. Veronica tried to convince herself it was only powdered sugar, except she didn’t think any of the doughnuts had a powdered-sugar coating, at least not to start with. Matt stood behind Barney, silently laughing so hard that he was unable to work.
Veronica tried once again to gracefully extricate herself from this situation. “Actually, I’m on a budget, and I didn’t factor doughnuts into it…”
“On the house.” Barney plopped the box into her hands, slung his arm around her, and propelled her to the door.
She tried to dig her heels in and turn down an aisle, but before she could change direction, she found herself on the sidewalk outside. “Thank you, but I still need—”
“Not on that budget you don’t.” He removed his heavy arm from her shoulders and lifted the case of beer out of the open doorway. With a smirk that convinced her his actions had been calculated to shut her out, he then stepped inside with the beer, letting the door close behind him. He hadn’t exactly let it hit her on the butt on her way out, but he might as well have.
Small-town hospitality was…interesting.
A moment later, Matt came through the door and headed for his truck again.
She followed him. “Does Barney do that to everyone?”
He glanced from her to her dusty gift and smirked. “Just the gold diggers.”
The reminder of Ron’s cold reception smarted. “I’m not gold digging for anything. I’m going to work for every penny.”
“In those clothes?” Matt’s tone was derisive.
“Look, just because I have nice clothes doesn’t mean I can’t work hard.” She was wearing jeans, a denim jacket, work boots, and a cute pink bandana holding back her blond hair.
She’d dressed for construction.
…
Matt didn’t bother answering; he simply refilled his nail pouch. He could use every one, and it wouldn’t be enough to pound out his frustrations.
Veronica set her toxic welcome gift on the tailgate of his truck. “I can see you’re not crazy about my coming down here, not knowing you or your company and working for you. But I’ve been studying up on construction. I think you’ll be surprised by how much I already know. I won’t slow you down.”
Matt turned away from his supplies to stare at her. If she was as sincere as she sounded, then she was even more naive than he’d been when he assumed he’d have Ron’s investment paid back quickly, regardless of the financial mess his brother had left for him, a tanking economy, and an imploding housing market that had given him no other option but to take Ron’s bailout offer. “If you say so.”
“I do,” Veronica replied firmly. She reached into the bucket and pulled out a single nail. “I’m ready to prove it. Do you have an extra hammer?”
“What would you pound that nail into if I gave you one?” He walked around her and slid a panel of Sheetrock out of the back of the truck.
“Into this thing, I assume.” She reached for the other end of the drywall with the hand that wasn’t holding the nail. Her one-handed approach threw off the precarious balance of the long, wide, flat slab. One corner dipped to the ground and crumpled against the pavement.
Matt sighed, calculating it would take at least two rounds of joint compound to smooth it into shape. He needed to convince this woman to go back to her spoiled party-girl life while a small patching job was the worst problem she caused. “Around here, pounding a couple nails doesn’t count as a full day of work. Now, I have a job to do. If you’re not going to leave town, you can unpack, and I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
She cleared her throat. “That was my plan. But the door’s stuck, and I can’t get into the trailer.”
Luckily, the Sheetrock was still resting on the ground, or he would have dropped it in shock. “You’re staying in the trailer? The one across the street?”
A funny little smile softened the determination on her face. “If I can get the door open. I think the knob needs some oil, but apparently I can only get doughnuts on my welcome visit to this store.”
“I’ll help you.” Matt rubbed his chest and smiled. Veronica Jamison would be headed home today after all, as soon as she got a good look at her living quarters. He was more than happy to give her a guided tour.
Matt held the outer screen and tried to turn the knob on the front door. It didn’t budge.
She put her hand on the screen, holding it away from him. “What about that oil for the bolt mechanism?”
“It just needs a little muscle.” He turned the knob as hard as he could, shoving his body against the door. The wood trembled, but the knob didn’t even wiggle.
“Do you think Ron would have locked it?”
“It’s not locked.” He’d never known Ron to lock a door—either for his house or his car. In this case, anyone who stole from the trailer would have done Ron a favor. Matt slammed his shoulder against the wood again, and the door splintered open. He stumbled through the suddenly open space, bumping against a dusty brown chair and falling to his knees on the sticky linoleum.
“Oh my gosh. Are you okay?” Veronica stood over him, looking down with concern and something he was fairly certain was rich-girl condescension.
“Fine.” His shoulder throbbed mercilessly, and he felt like an idiot.
“Oh, good.” She started giggling and then full out laughing.
“What?” A nerve twitched behind his eye. He might not be able to control if she worked for him, but he certainly wouldn’t put up with her laughing at him.
“You’re lying on the door.” He realized her laughter was full of genuine mirth, not a drop of malice.
Still lying on the floor, Matt looked around to orient himself and realized she was right. He’d ripped the door, hinges and all, straight off the rotting frame. The only thing missing was the doorknob. When he located it still in the frame, still hanging out of the open doorway where the door had been, he started to laugh, too. This woman had to believe he was the biggest hick who ever lived, by destroying doors instead of doing the sensible thing and taking the lock apart.
Veronica reached out her hand to help him up. He accepted it, but they were both laughing too hard to manage an effective effort to get him on his feet and she dropped down next to him. He released her hand and took a deep breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed until he was too weak to stand.
“I can’t believe you busted the door out of its frame!” she said.
“I can’t believe you just used the word busted.” He laughed harder at hearing it come out of her high-class mouth. He looked over at her sitting next to him on the broken door and shook his head at the absolute ridiculousness of the situation, a situation he was enjoying. He pulled himself together to stand and then offered his hand to Veronica.
She accepted, still laughing as he hauled her up. As he pushed open the screen and tossed the door out of the trailer onto the lawn, Veronica stepped to the door
frame and fiddled with the lock. The knob still didn’t turn, so she pulled it straight out from the wall.
Well, dang. Who would have thought she knew what a bolt mechanism was? Let alone that it was the broken piece that had kept the door from opening?
“Let’s see if anything else needs a little lubrication that you can destroy for me,” she teased, as she set the knob on the gray countertop of the kitchen.
Like any other red-blooded man, the word lubrication triggered immediate fantasies. Matt stared at the duct-taped window, mentally drawing up an estimate of labor and materials until he had his body under control. When he was settled, he glanced at Veronica to gauge if she’d been purposely pushing his buttons.
She flicked a smile at him, still seemingly focused on the innocent moment they’d shared over the broken door.
Whether she had brains under her gorgeous head of silky blond hair was debatable. But he clearly did not. He hadn’t learned from his mistakes. He was still pretty much a sucker for rich girls and their smiles.
He needed to refocus on the reason he’d offered to help her get inside the trailer in the first place. “You’ll pay as much to replace that window as the whole trailer’s worth. The counters were originally white, you know. This chair used to be tan, and so was the floor.”
“Well then, when I’m not hammering, I guess I’ll be cleaning,” Veronica said over her shoulder as she sashayed to the back of the trailer.
So, she was going to make him work for it? He was up to the challenge.
His heavy boots stuck with each step on the gray-brown floor as he followed her. But then he stopped in the doorway. A big bed filled the entire room. He didn’t dare come any closer.
“I’m not going to ask how anyone could get a mattress that size in here,” she commented.
He kept his expression neutral. “I expect rodents have turned it into a warm, cozy nest.”
She shivered, as he intended, but didn’t scream. “I’ll definitely have to do a mouse check if I’m going to sleep here. Maybe I could use those doughnuts from Barney as bait to lure them out.”
Nice comeback. His respect increased another notch. “My guess is you’d end up with mice from all the vacant lots over here, too.”
She turned away from the bed to him, and Matt found himself staring into her clear blue eyes. “If the mice start chasing me, I will knock you down to get out of here. You know that, right? Your shoulder ramming trick is a really great technique.”
He snorted. Sure it was, if one didn’t particularly care whether he regained full use of his shoulder or not. Matt rolled it against the dull ache and rotated his neck as he stepped out of the door frame, where he’d been inadvertently blocking her in.
Veronica walked by him into the bathroom and ran the water in the shower and sink. The basins wouldn’t win any awards for cleanliness, but for a building on the verge of demolition, the pipes surprisingly appeared to be in working order.
Her shoulder brushed his as she continued to the kitchen. Matt stepped back, irritated that he’d allowed himself to gravitate so close to her trim, energetic body. He was raising a kid and was intent on spending the rest of his life in this town—both deal breakers for rich city girls.
She opened the refrigerator and immediately slammed it shut. The rancid, moldy smell hit him a second later. Now there was a reminder to stay as far back as possible.
Veronica patted her hand against the refrigerator. “Would you mind throwing this outside with the front door?”
Her sense of humor about the entire trailer threw him off. She was supposed to be leaving him in a cloud of dust by now. He needed to cut the camaraderie and get tough with her before he ended up saddled with her on a job site. “You’re not seriously thinking of living here. It’s uninhabitable.”
“Are you offering me accommodations?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t want her staying in this trailer—no one should have to live in these conditions. But even if he didn’t have an impressionable niece under his roof, he couldn’t make the mistake of pretending he had anything to offer someone like her. She must have options. Girls like her always did. She just needed to use them.
“That’s what I thought.” She pushed open the screen and walked out of the trailer.
Matt followed, wishing he could crack a joke about being careful not to run over any mice as she drove off. But he’d pushed her away just as he’d intended, and he worried his comment would come across as purposely rude.
He pulled the flimsy screen door tight behind him and shoved the front door out of the walkway into the tiny patch of overgrown weeds that passed for the trailer’s yard. He looked up, prepared to send her off with a friendly wave.
But instead of backing out of the driveway, Veronica was tugging her designer suitcase from her trunk.
He ran over and grabbed the expensive luggage with one hand, lifting it onto the gravel next to the car. “Why are you driving this piece of junk anyway?”
“It’s my car now.” She put her hand next to his on the suitcase.
Heat traveled up his arm, but he ignored it. “You had a different car—a nice one—before this.” It wasn’t a question. A girl like her shouldn’t be caught dead riding in this car, let alone driving it without roadside assistance on standby.
She moved her hand away, straightened, and looked him in the eye. “Yes, I had a nice car and a nice house. I’m very aware that I traded down quite a few notches below my comfort level. But that doesn’t make me a snob. It doesn’t mean I won’t be a good construction worker.”
“It doesn’t mean you will be a good construction worker, either,” he pointed out.
Her lips compressed into a determined line. “I’m not a fluffy airhead who runs screaming from a little refrigerator odor. I’m going to work beside you for the full thirty days. If that means making you miserable because you’re in the middle of what I have to do to make a future for myself, I’m sorry. But I can’t change my life to make you happy. I’m doing what I need to make my own life.”
Kimberly had told him the same thing when she’d left. She hadn’t cared if she broke his heart and made his life miserable. No way was she staying in this dinky town to help him pick up the pieces of his brother’s life and raise his orphaned niece. She had a life to live, and no one was getting in her way.
At least this time Matt knew exactly the type of woman he was dealing with. And his heart would be completely safe.
Chapter Two
Veronica clutched the two dull silver keys in her hand. One was to a car so ancient it belonged in a trash heap or a museum. The other was for a door that was sprawled over a third of her lawn. Yes, she’d given up her fun convertible and suite in her parents’ house to get them. But more importantly, she’d gotten them through her own efforts and contacts.
For the first time in her twenty-seven years, she was living completely alone, not in the halfway independence of college dorms or sorority houses. She’d taken her first steps toward creating her own life, and she’d made significant progress for the first day. Unfortunately, if she wanted to make it to day two, she needed to scour and sanitize the trailer until she could sit, lie on, and touch the furnishings.
The common-sense approach would be to call a maid service. But she was without her credit, debit, ATM cards, or checking account. Her cash was meager and needed to be rationed carefully if she had any hope of making it through her first construction paycheck.
She’d have to clean the place. Which meant she needed disinfecting wipes and bleach—things the convenience store clerk would likely hide behind the counter while he plied her with toxic food. That was his loss, then.
She turned the key in her car and listened to the engine grind and sputter. She didn’t have a clue what she’d do if the car didn’t start, but thankfully it eventually came to life—just as her cell phone rang from inside her purse. “Hello?”
“Darling, I’ve been so worried about you. You neve
r called to tell me you made the trip safely. Has your grandfather been horrible?”
She deserved this for not checking the display before she answered. “Hello, Mother. Sorry I didn’t call when I got down here. I assumed when you said I was cut out of your life, you meant it.”
“Well, yes, I did. We still do.” She didn’t sound certain. “Your father and I are very disappointed with your choices lately. But to not call and tell us you arrived safely caused us unnecessary worry. We tried to track you down through your Porsche. You can imagine our shock when we found out you sold your graduation present.”
Veronica pinched the bridge of her nose. “I didn’t want a graduation present. I wanted my résumé to be taken seriously.”
“Don’t get in a snit. You’ve been raised to be a wonderful society wife.”
Mother had to understand this was much more than a snit. This was her standing up for what she wanted for her future. “I got my business degree so I could take over the family company, which I would have been groomed for my whole life if I’d been a son. When Dad wouldn’t give me a job because I only had a bachelor’s degree, I went back and got my MBA at my own expense. Now he won’t hire me and he’s warned everyone in the trade association not to, either, because I have too much education and no work experience to go with it. I’ve been begging for work experience since I was eighteen.”
“Darling, do we have to rehash this argument?”
She sighed and put the car in gear. “No, we don’t, Mother.” It wouldn’t do her any good. Her parents refused to listen. They only considered what they thought was best for her and what they thought she wanted, no matter how many times she tried to explain differently.