She nods. “I hope you’re up for a challenge.”
“What choice do I have?”
I spend the morning organizing my office before heading out for my dreaded meeting with Mr. Slade. Debbie wishes me “good luck” as I pass by her desk.
“Thanks. Something tells me I could really use it,” I laugh out as the door closes behind me.
I get behind the wheel and pull out my map since my cell doesn’t work out here in the middle of nowhere, and I’m the only Tesla owner with a broken GPS. Starting the car, a sense of dread settles over me. Suddenly, I’m filled with nerves and fear. What if I can’t get the job done? I’ve never let down the firm before. And if Drake Slade is as bad as Debbie claims, then he’s not going to make my job any easier. My only hope is getting him to let his guard down. I have to make him want to be a part of this town—want to be friends with the people who live and work here. It’s the only way this will work, and I just pray he can see that.
Four
Drake
I’M working in the barn when I hear the crunch of gravel behind me. Confused as to who it could be, I turn and walk out, stopping quickly when I almost run into a leggy blonde. My fingers tighten around the handle of the hammer I’m holding. Her glimmering green eyes flash from mine, to the hammer, and back. They’re now filled with fear. Her thick, plump lips part and her hand flies up to her heart.
“Oh, you scared me,” she stutters as her feet start backstepping. “Are you Drake Slade?” Her hands are visibly shaking. Her voice is nervous and full of fear, even though I can tell she’s desperately trying to control it.
“I am. Who are you?” I ask, sliding the hammer into the loop on my tool belt.
With the tool—or I guess, weapon—no longer in my hand, she forces a smile and holds out her hand. “I’m Celeste Teller. I’m the new lawyer who’s replacing Mr. Burns.”
It takes a moment for her words to register. I glance down at my watch, realizing I completely lost track of time again. I totally forgot about the appointment. I look at her soft, dainty hand but make no move to shake it. I look her up and down instead. She’s tall in those black high heels, and I can’t take my eyes off of her shape. Her tanned legs look soft—giving me the urge to feel them wrapped around my hips. Her long blonde hair is curled and hanging down her back, softly brushing against the slender neck I can picture myself kissing.
I shake my head. What the fuck is wrong with me? “You? You’re the lawyer they sent to replace Burns?” I ask, my voice gravelly and rough.
She nods. “That’s right. I look forward to working with you. I’ve heard so much about you already.”
I laugh—or more accurately, I grunt. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ve heard some wonderful things,” I say, but the words come out sounding a little sarcastic and bitter.
She finally lets her hand fall, realizing I’m not going to shake it. “My assistant’s told me all about what you’re doing here, and what you’re needing from the firm.” The forced smile is back in place.
“Did she now?” I ask, turning and walking back into the barn.
She follows. “She did. But I’d like to go over the specifics with you, if you don’t mind.”
“Did she tell you that I need this project completed within a year?”
“I do know that.” She nods matter-of-factly. “In fact, I’m only set to be here a year and I refuse to let things go unfinished. I’m just as excited about getting to work on this as you are.”
Her voice is sweet. It teases me. It makes my muscles tighten, my back straighten. My heart starts beating harder. My lungs demand more oxygen. And all of these damn responses from my body make me hate her. After Casey, I swore to myself that I’d never be controlled by anyone ever again. I’d managed to keep that promise this whole time, until now. Now I can’t even force myself to breathe like a normal person. I wipe my sweaty palms down my jeans, drying them and mentally threatening to tear them off if they betray me again.
I pick up my beer and take a swig, hoping to wash away these uneasy feelings clawing their way up my throat. “And how is it you expect to get the job done?” I can’t help but look her up and down once again. Those heels, that skirt, her perfectly manicured nails, that hair, the done-up face—everything reminds me of her. Casey. I’m sure she’s just like her too. All they care about is themselves. They don’t care who they hurt, as long as they get what they want.
She looks down at her feet as she kicks the dirt. “I have a plan,” she says around a smile as she places one hand on her hip.
“Care to clue me in?”
“I intend to. Once we can have a formal meeting instead of standing in the dirt.”
“What’s wrong with the dirt?” I ask, a grin forming on its own. “You’ll never make it out here in the country if you can’t handle a little dirt.” Teasing her gives me a little of my control back.
She rolls her eyes and it makes me want to bend her over my knee.
“You got me, Mr. Slade. I’m a city girl through and through,” she says, walking closer to me as slowly as she can. “But I don’t mind getting my hands a little dirty when needed. On the other hand, I do believe in doing business the proper way. And that includes a sit-down meeting where everything can be addressed. I want to know everything you have planned. Everything you expect of me.” She’s standing right in front of me now, looking up with those big green eyes. She’s so tiny compared to my height and weight. I want nothing more than to throw her over my shoulder and take her into the house where I can show her what I expect from her.
“Well, Ms. Teller, let’s go into the house, shall we?” I hold up my arm, motioning toward the door.
She nods, her smile returning as she starts toward the house. On our short walk, I have to make an effort to keep my eyes off of her ass. I fail several times, but luckily, she never catches me. I know most men would be excited about working with a beautiful woman, but I’m not most men. I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m not looking for a random hookup, either. I want no distractions when it comes to this expansion, and unfortunately, she’s going to be a major fucking distraction whether she realizes it or not.
I reach out and open the door for her, and she thanks me as she steps into the house. I lead her into the kitchen. “Have a seat,” I say as I move around the island and pour two glasses of whiskey. I walk back over to her and set a glass on the table in front of her.
“Oh, no thank you. I don’t drink much.” She waves her hand in my direction, dismissing the thought.
I laugh as I pull out my chair and sit at her side. “Ms. Teller, you said you wanted a business meeting. Here in the country, our business meetings involve a stiff drink. Now, how badly do you want this meeting?” I ask, toying with her. Obviously, I won’t force her to drink it, but this is a little test. How badly does she want this job? What will she do for me if asked?
Her green eyes move to the glass. She picks it up, swirling the liquid as she talks herself into it. Finally, she moves the glass to her lips and takes the smallest of sips. I watch as she swallows it down. Her hand moves to her throat as she blows out a long breath. “Please, call me Celeste.”
A smile covers my face as I tip my glass, throwing back the liquid. “All right, let’s get down to business.” There’s a cardboard tube sitting on the table in front of us. I pick it up, open it, and pull out the rolled-up blueprints. “Here are the plans we’ve drawn up.”
“I was wanting to ask you: is there a reason why you want this expansion built over on the far corner? It seems to me like you’d have an easier time if you cut your parking lot in half.”
“I see you and Mr. Burns think alike,” I laugh out. “The answer to that is: I don’t want to. This land is mine, and I want to be able to use it how I see fit. I don’t farm it. Right now, that land isn’t doing anything but costing me money. I don’t like things that cost me money. I want things to make me money. The only way that land is going to make money is if it’s put to use. Plus
, I plan on expanding the brewery once I have this new location up and running for whiskey. I have to make more beer to recoup my losses, since we’ve had to slow down production on account of the whiskey. Once the whiskey side of things is done and in production, the brewery side will also need to expand in order to double production numbers. After a year of doubling production, it’ll be like we never slowed down to begin with.”
“You do realize that this expansion will require some effort on your part, correct?” she asks.
“On my part? I’m not the lawyer here, Ms. Teller.” I shake my head as I toy with the glass in front of me.
“I understand that, Mr. Slade.” She says my name with annoyance. “But you’re basically asking this town and its people for a favor. ‘Let me build a distillery,’ right? But I’ve been told you’re not on good terms with the town. How can you expect people to do this favor for you if you won’t put in any work when it comes to maintaining—or even fixing—these relationships?”
I sit back and massage my temples. “God, you sound like my advisor.”
“I’d say your advisor is a smart man, Mr. Slade.” There’s that tone again—the one she uses whenever she says my name.
“Why are you saying my name like that?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Why do you insist on calling me ‘Ms. Teller’? I’ve told you to call me Celeste.”
“It’s a sign of respect. You wanted a business meeting. I’m keeping things professional.”
“You’re doing it to spite me. And saying it’s out of respect is just insulting. Might as well say I’m too stupid to understand.” She arches one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows. The look she’s giving me is nothing short of bratty. She’s a spoiled little girl who’s far too used to getting her way. I could use this to my advantage if I could only make her see that it won’t work on me.
I laugh as I pick up my drink and finish it off. I swallow down all my issues and nod. “Forgive me, Celeste.” I breathe out the words like an admission of guilt.
“I feel like I need to tell you who I am, Mr. Slade,” she says clasping her hands together on the table as her eyes focus on mine.
I don’t reply, only motion for her to carry on.
“I know what you must think of me: that I’m just some city girl who doesn’t know her ass from a hole in the ground, but that isn’t true. I’m a top lawyer at my firm in L.A. I was valedictorian of my high school and college graduating classes. I’ve worked for this my entire life. I’ve never lost a case, and I don’t plan on starting now. When this job is complete in a year’s time, I’m going back to L.A., where I will be rewarded for all my hard work with more perks than any other lawyer at my firm has ever seen—besides the partners, of course—and I will not let you get in the way of that. I will do this job. You can either work beside me, or you can fight me, but it will get it done, because I refuse to lose. Especially due to your chauvinistic ideas about what a woman can and cannot do. You can make this next year a total headache for the both of us, or you can accept that I’m what you’ve got, so we can get some work done. The choice is up to you.” Her brows are arched high and her eyes are wide, but not with fear. With determination. She really believes that she can get this job done.
“I won’t get in your way, Celeste, but I feel like I should warn you about myself. It’s only fair.”
She nods once, telling me to continue.
“I do not have ‘chauvinistic ideas’ about where women belong or what they can do. But I will tell you that I won’t treat you any better because you’re a woman. If you piss me off, I’ll let you know even if it hurts your feelings. I expect everything I ask of you to get done in a timely manner and to get done correctly. I will not take it easier on you just because of what you’ve got between your legs. You want this job, you’ve got it. But it will not be any easier for you than it would be for any man—which is why I assume you’re here. I’m guessing your boss got wind that this whole thing would go much more smoothly if they sent some pretty woman—that I wouldn’t give you as much trouble as I gave Burns. But that, Celeste, is incorrect. If I’m paying for something, I want it to be exactly what I asked for. I will not change my mind. I will not compromise. It’s my way or the highway. Got it?”
She presses her lips together tightly as she thinks it over. Finally she holds out her hand to shake. “Deal,” she says.
“Deal,” I agree, finally touching her for the first time. The moment my hand comes in contact with hers, a spark shoots through me, my heart skips a beat, my lungs momentarily freeze, and my blood boils beneath my skin.
I notice her chest rise as she takes in a large gulp of air and her thick lips part like she’s not taking in enough oxygen through her nose. I force myself to release her hand and I clear my throat. “What do you say we get down to business now?”
She nods and wets her lips, but doesn’t speak as I start talking about the expansion and the building plans.
The hours pass quickly, and before I know it, I’ve got a rather good buzz going. Celeste has kicked off her shoes as she sits in the chair with her feet beneath her. She’s writing down almost every word I say as I point to areas on the plans and pace the kitchen floor. She seems to ask appropriate questions at perfect times, and she never interrupts when I’m talking. She always waits for me to pause. She leaves no stone unturned as I explain what it is I want, and she even asks questions no one else has thought to ask—not even Harrison or Burns.
She’s finally finished her one glass of whiskey, and her cheeks are starting to turn pink as her green eyes grow more and more glassy. She’s smiling more and she’s even laughed a time or two when I’ve told a stupid joke. The point of this meeting was to put everything out on the table, which I’ve done, but now it also feels like it was planned on her part—like she’s treating this as a way to get to know me—to know what I expect and what she can and cannot get away with when it comes to me. And even though there’s a slight possibility she’s using this in her favor, I don’t care. I find myself craving that giggle that slips past her lips. Every time she smiles, my heart feels like it’s soaring across the room. This should piss me off, but I find myself letting it continue even though I already know how this would end: very badly.
“So, let me get this straight,” she says, holding up a finger as a smile plays on her perfect lips. “Everyone is convinced that your family stole their land, yet not one single person has the original property lines? Nobody? There’s not an original map in the city library? Not one in the post office or town hall? These are things that federal buildings like to display.”
“Not a single map has been found,” I tell her. “That’s another reason why the town believes the lie. They’re sure that once my grandfather had the lines moved, he also destroyed every last trace of evidence. It’s complete nonsense.” I collapse in the chair at her side and take another swig of my whiskey.
She shakes her head. “This is crazy. I mean, it’s like a family feud that’s been going on for literally generations.” Her eyes double in size.
I nod once. “Yep.”
“I don’t understand. I mean, why would these families carry this around for so long?”
I shrug as I slouch back. “I don’t know. I guess they’re just jealous? I mean, they’ve owned this land for hundreds of years and then here comes my grandpa, suddenly making millions—and later, billions—of dollars when they’ve been working their asses off and farming their land for all these years.”
“So who was farming this land before construction started?”
“No one. My family has never been the farming type. I mean, maybe a long time ago. But that’s why my grandpa started the brewery. He had this land he couldn’t do anything else with.”
“So . . . were the other families not farming it because they knew it wasn’t theirs?”
“At this point, I don’t think it matters,” I point out.
She gets quiet as her eyes cloud over.
“What are
you thinking?” I ask, watching her.
“I was just trying to figure out how in the hell we’re going to prove that the land was never theirs.”
“If I could do that, what would I need you for?” I laugh and she shoots me an annoyed look.
“Step one, prove the land wasn’t stolen. Step two, become friends with everyone. You need to start coming into town to do your grocery shopping. Join the church, drink at the bar, eat at the restaurant. Become a member of society.”
I scoff. “What?”
She nods. “I’m serious. If the town sees you as one of their own, you’ll get a whole lot further and with less work.”
I stand up and take my glass to the island to pour another drink. “If you think I’m going to waste my time playing some kind of political role, you’re out of your mind.”
She stands up and moves in front of me. Mere inches separate us. I can damn near feel the heat radiating off her body. Mine absorbs it without trying. “Trust me, Drake. Give me three months. If we haven’t gotten anywhere with this town in three months, then we’ll do what we need to do—legally—to get this expansion built.” Her eyes are shining and pleading with me.
“Why can’t we just do that now?” I ask, refusing to pull my eyes away from hers.
“This is the easy way. Trust me.” Her eyes are still locked with mine and they’re glowing, full of determination. She’s sure and she’s teasing me in every way possible. Hate fills my gut but it almost doesn’t register.
It feels like we’re being pulled together. I begin leaning in, so slowly I almost don’t realize it’s happening. She wets her lips, her green eyes filling with confusion. She wants me, but she’s not sure why.
“You’re eyes are beautiful, you know that?” I quietly ask. So quietly I’m not even sure I said the words aloud.
Her lips turn up only slightly. She liked the compliment. Time between us seems to have paused, like we caused the world to stop spinning. We’re both frozen in this moment, unsure of what it will bring. She lets out a shallow breath that blows across my dry lips. My hand begins to move upward, planning on landing gently on her cheek where I can feel her soft skin as the space between our lips gets slimmer and slimmer. I’m leaning in. She’s leaning in. Her chest is rising and falling quickly with anticipation. My body feels like every nerve ending has been set on fire. I crave her kiss. I yearn to feel her against me. I want to taste those lips—feel how tender they are against my own. My heart pounds so hard, I’m sure she can hear it.
The Slade Brothers: A Complete Small Town Contemporary Romance Collection Page 6