by Kim Linwood
Kenny runs for it, leaving his take-out on the floor.
My stomach rumbles. Strangely enough, I’m feeling much better now that the ashes are safe. Apparently terror is a decent hangover cure. I grab Kenny’s lunch and pluck a lily off the floor. “Here.” The stem fits perfectly into one of the button holes on Carter’s suit. “Thanks for the help.”
“No problem.” Carter tips his head and gives the flower a sniff. “I’d hate for customers to have a bad impression of my new funeral parlor.”
“Your parlor? In your dreams, pretty boy.”
His hand goes to his heart like I’ve wounded him. “Trust me, Sadie. There’s no room in my dreams for business. They’re too full of you.”
“They’re full of something,” I mutter, fighting a smile. Why did he have to be the one in charge of this negotiation? In spite of how pushy he can be, Carter seems to have a good sense of humor about himself and I find that really attractive.
He laughs at my jab. “Just get everything settled with Olivia and then I’ll take you to lunch so you don’t have to eat whatever’s turning the bottom of that bag translucent.”
Olivia, huh? “On a first name basis already?”
“Well, you did put us together. Why, are you jealous?”
“Of course not!”
“Then let me take you to lunch.” His voice is a teasing caress, promising much more than just lunch.
Agreeing would be so easy, but my head’s clear enough now to know that I’m not ready for whatever going out with him would mean. Professionally, or personally. Besides, I’m feeling better, but nowhere near one hundred percent. As soon as Olivia is out of the office, the only date I’m interested in is the one with my bed.
“I can’t, Carter. Not today, and I don’t think it would be a good idea with the offer still up in the air.”
“Then sign it and we can move on.”
“Come back tomorrow and we’ll talk.”
He sighs, but I can tell he isn’t going to argue, not really. “If this keeps up, I’m going to be the one asking you to comp my mileage. Would adding a backrub to the package make you more agreeable? I’ve been told I have magic hands.” He wiggles his fingers and looks at me with eyes full of mischief.
Shoot. I’d forgotten all about the fact that he’s not local. Now I feel a little bad making him either drive back and forth across the state or pay for a hotel. Still, it’s not like I’m about to let him sleep on my couch. That would be all sorts of fun.
I mean bad. Bad.
“Tomorrow,” I tell him sternly, setting a course for Ms. Jensen before he can catch sight of the smile forming on my lips.
8
Sadie
My cell phone rings, rattling on my desk while I’m making coffee in the kitchenette at work. I use way too much milk in my rush to get back to my office, and bump the door shut with my foot when I get there. It’s Dad.
Blowing the bangs out of my eyes, I swipe to answer. “Hey, Pops.”
“Morning, sunshine. How’re you doing, baby girl?” His tone doesn’t carry the sweetness of his words. Besides, sunshine and baby girl? Something’s up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Why would anything be wrong?” he asks, followed by an awkward pause at getting called out. “Just checking in to see how things are going.”
“Mmhm. Things are fine here. How’s retirement?” I take a sip of coffee and wait for the shoe to drop.
“Good. Yeah, we’re fine. Totally fine. So… are the contracts signed yet?”
“We’re still in negotiation. The guy Graves sent over is…” Sexy. “Difficult. But I’m sure we’ll find common ground, and it’s not like we have to sell. Right?”
“That’s… um… too bad. I was really hoping—” His voice vanishes suddenly, immediately replaced by my mother’s. She’s never had the patience for stalling.
“Your father is being an idiot, Sadie. We need help.”
“Vicky!” he yells in the background.
They’re both obviously alive, so I’m not quite as panicked as I could be. “Talk to me, Mom. What’s going on? Is everyone alright?”
“Yes,” she hisses. “No thanks to your father. We were heading south towards Miami yesterday—the weather is gorgeous by the way, you’d love it—and someone decided the RV park was too expensive for a couple of hours.”
Yeah, that sounds like Dad. Dread sets in, because I know they wouldn’t be calling me over something like a parking ticket. “What happened?”
“We… God, this is embarrassing. We parked on an incline, probably the only one in all of Florida, and apparently we didn’t set the brake. We’re both fine, but the RV’s a wreck.”
“They can fix it,” Dad pipes up.
She shushes him. “Thirty grand’s worth of fixing.” The growly undertone in her voice tells me it’s not their first time discussing this.
A sharp pain nails me right in the forehead. Thirty thousand? It’ll take some penny pinching and putting off a few of the upgrades we’d planned, but maybe we can pay in installments. “Do you need me to talk to the bank here?”
“Oh, just you wait, there’s more. We rolled straight into a miniature golf course.”
I put down my coffee. “You… you what? How bad was it?”
“Hole in one!” Dad shouts, right before the sound of Mom smacking his arm comes through the phone.
“We’re still picking garden gnomes out of the grill, but that isn’t really the worst part. Most of the damage done was to the restaurant on the other side of hole nine. The good news is that it stopped the RV. The bad news is… that it stopped the RV. Thank heavens the place was closed and nobody was hurt, but we rammed right through the outdoor seating and then the wall. Took out a whole row of tables and landed us right in the dessert counter. There’s key lime pie everywhere.”
“Insurance?” I whisper hopefully, unable to even react to the insanity of it all.
“Of course, but we’re completely at fault. It’s not going to do much more than scratch the two to three hundred thousand this is probably going to cost once all the damage is assessed.”
I close my eyes and rub my temples, vaguely wishing I had Carter there to do it for me. “You guys couldn’t have just gone on a cruise or joined a nudist colony, could you?”
“Actually, we were on our way to—”
“Stop! I don’t want to know. First things first, do you have a place to stay?”
“We’re at a motel. I’ll text you the address when we hang up, and I’ll keep you in the loop so you know what the final totals are going to be. Oh, hold on, your father wants a word.”
“I’m so sorry to drop all this on you, honey,” he says apologetically. “But I’m sure you can see why it’s more important than ever that the sale goes through smoothly.”
“Dad…”
I want to tell him I’m not sure I want the sale to go through at all, but without the extra money, paying off the damages from Hurricane Williams will be impossible.
Thanks, pressure I didn’t need right now.
But I know they didn’t exactly plan to end up another amusing news clip of life in Florida, so I hedge. “I’ll do the best I can.”
“Thank you. It means a lot to us to know you’re there taking care of everything. Love you, baby girl.”
“I love you too.” We say our goodbyes and I toss my phone onto the table next to my coffee.
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
We’re going to need all the buffer we can get, and I’m going to have to play it cool with Carter so he doesn’t wonder why I’m suddenly so willing to sign. The last thing I need is for him to think we’re desperate.
The offer sits there on my desk, staring up at me like the perfect answer to a really crappy question. I don’t like any of this, and I hate that Carter now has the upper hand. It makes the chemistry between us even more uncomfortable than the usual trouble of mixing business with pleasure.
He’
s going to be here any time. Now I wish I’d dressed up a little more for our meeting. I look like a somber librarian. Taking a couple of pins out of my hair, I let it fall down over my shoulders, then undo a button on my blouse. Not exactly an epic transformation, but maybe it’ll win me a few negotiation points.
Which is of course the only reason I’d be interested in flashing Carter a little cleavage.
God, what am I doing? I rebutton my blouse and choke down a mouthful of rapidly cooling coffee. All evidence from the last few days aside, we’re both professionals and I’m pretty sure everything that can go wrong has already gone wrong. This needs to be done right.
But I’d kill for a slice of key lime pie.
9
Carter
“Anyone home?” I shut the front door behind me, noting that one of the first things I’m going to change is how nobody ever seems to be manning the reception area.
Not that there’s much to steal. The market for black market coffins is pretty small. Still, having someone on hand to greet the clients is just good business practice. Someone other than that Kenny kid.
I try again, louder. “Hello?”
The thud, thud, thud of footsteps racing up stairs echoes through the parlor right before Sadie pops into sight in the hallway. In time with her heavy breaths, her heaving chest catches my not-so-professional attention, but I push the thought aside. I can’t afford to keep dragging this out, even if teasing her would be fun.
My feisty angel in the death business looks a lot better today. Her cheeks are flushed, and her golden brown hair hangs in wispy strands around her face. Damn, I’d much rather be getting down to business than having to sit around and talk about it.
“Carter, hey.” She takes a deep breath and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I was just putting some stuff away.”
The top button of her blouse pops open, but she doesn’t notice. Should I let her know?
Probably.
But I don’t.
Still, in spite of wanting to get the negotiations back on track, I can’t help but tease a little. “There’s something different about you today. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. Is it the lack of raccoon eyes or maybe the upright posture?”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you? What can I say? I figured at least one of us should pretend to be human.”
I laugh, enjoying that she gives as good as she takes. There’s nothing less interesting than a woman who can’t keep me on my toes. “Ready to talk business?”
A hand goes to her sexy hip and she looks at me guardedly. “That depends, are you ready to take this seriously?”
“As the Graves.” I’m a little disappointed she doesn’t dignify my cheesy joke with a response. “The offer still stands as we left it. Twice the price, everything you specified in our last meeting, and if you aren’t happy with your position, I’m sure I can find some new ones for you.” Damn, so much for professionalism. Maybe Ax was right.
Those red spots on her cheeks could be either embarrassment or fury. Hard to tell. Cute as hell either way.
Sadie throws up her hands and stomps into her office. “You’re completely ridiculous. It must be nice having everything handed to you on a platter, because I can’t imagine hard work and dedication brought you here.”
Ouch. The truth is that it’s a bit of both, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy having my family thrown in my face as if success is something we should be ashamed of.
“Honestly? I really enjoy riling you up,” I call to her back. Just because I work for my father doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing. Or how to be professional. For instance, I can’t help watching her ass move in that skirt, but even I know that saying something is completely inappropriate.
Sadie glances over her shoulder and gives me a suspicious look like she can hear my thoughts.
I smile innocently. “You wouldn’t happen to have any coffee made, would you?”
She replies through clenched teeth. “There’s a capsule machine in the kitchen. Help yourself. I’ll be waiting in the arranging room.”
I ponder my approach as the machine thinks about making my coffee. It’s about as happy to warm up as Sadie is to see me.
It would be a good idea to stop teasing her, no matter how tempting it might be. If I want to get our deal squared away and move on to making this home my new flagship project, I’m going to have to win her over. Otherwise Dad will send in Axton and if it’s professional she wants, they’ll be engaged by Christmas.
Even knowing that won’t happen, the thought still pisses me off. He probably wouldn’t even make her want to kill him, which would be a complete waste of her sexy temper.
I grab my coffee and join her, taking the chair directly opposite hers, with just a low table between us. She sits primly, arms crossed in a way that’s most likely intended to make her seem stern but in reality just pushes her breasts up beautifully.
“So you want to talk business? Let’s talk business.” I pull out my copy of the contract, modified to reflect the changes she’d asked for. “The offer stands for now, but there’s another home nearby we have our eye on. We can talk to them instead. Your location is better, but not weeks of negotiation better.”
“The Kowalskis…” Sadie mutters under her breath. I’ve looked at their firm. They’re barely afloat, and somehow they’ve managed to combine the lack of resources of a small company with the lack of personality of a large one. I’d much rather have the Williams home, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“So what’s it going to be?” Leaning back, I rest my hands behind my head and prepare for her inevitable arguments against the deal.
Instead, she takes the contract and reads it over. “All of the stipulations are in here?”
I nod. “Well, no company cars, obviously. The rest are in there.”
Something’s changed since our first meeting, though hell if I know what. She’s eyeing the contract like she’s actually considering signing. What’s even more obvious is that she completely hates the idea.
“Something wrong?” As much as I want to get this locked down, I’m not a total asshole.
“No, not really.” She picks up a pen, tapping it against her lip as she studies the papers. “I just never expected to be doing this. It feels like I’m selling a part of my life, but sometimes I have to do what’s best for my family. Unfortunately.”
Great, now I feel like a dick.
“It doesn’t have to be unfortunate, does it? Look, I’m not the big bad wolf, and we’re not going to blow this place down. You have a solid reputation and good people.” I give it a moment of thought. “All right, so I’m not too sure about the urn kid.”
The corner of her mouth twitches a little at that. “Kenny’s a good guy.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Listen, we got off on the wrong foot for a business relationship.”
“You think?”
“In my defense, when I met you, business was the last thing on my mind.” I love the flustered way she drops her gaze. “So I have a suggestion. Let’s put this aside for the moment and have dinner.”
Her head snaps back up and she frowns suspiciously. “Excuse me? How is that supposed to help our business relationship?”
“A business dinner. It happens all the time. We’ll talk, iron out any details that still aren’t sitting well with you, and you’ll see that I’m not as bad a guy as you seem to think. This contract is a big deal for your family, and believe it or not, the Graves Corporation takes every new acquisition seriously.”
“And this has nothing to do with making up for our cancelled date? I’m supposed to believe this is strictly professional?”
“Listen, if you sign the contract, we’re going to be working together. I want to make the transition as painless as possible.” There, that’s not unreasonable. How can she argue with that?
Sadie draws a deep breath, the curve of her breast peeking out past the l
oose button on her blouse. Professional, I remind myself.
For now.
She lets out the air in a long sigh before nodding. “All right. When and where?”
My grin spreads. I’ve got her. “Tonight if you’re free. How about La Grenouille over in Coyote Creek? That’s only a half hour away or so. The resort has the best restaurants around here.”
“That’s pretty fancy. This isn’t a date, remember? Business only.”
“Strictly professional.” I hold up my hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were a Scout?”
I went to a grand total of two Cub Scout meetings. Axton’s an Eagle Scout and I think Brandon mostly just ate the popcorn Ax had to sell. “Of course.”
She cocks a skeptical eyebrow. “Are you always prepared?”
“Why, Ms. Williams, are you implying that our dinner might be less than professional? I’m shocked.”
Sadie huffs out a little laugh and shakes her head. “I guess I sort of asked for that one.”
I manage to keep my mouth shut for once, a small miracle when it comes to Sadie. “Is it alright if I pick you up?”
She holds the contract tight to her chest, watching me like I’m a snake and she hasn’t decided if I’m poisonous or not. “I’ll meet you there.”
“It’s a da—deal.” I wink and she scowls at me, but all it does it make her cuter.
Fuck business.
It’s totally a date.
10
Sadie
It’s not a date.
Right. Which is exactly why I’m standing in front of La Grenouille in a little black dress, red lipstick and a pair of slinky silver heels that make my legs look great and my toes scream. Back home, my bedroom looks like a cross between backstage at a fashion show and a Goodwill donation center, while my bathroom counter looks like my makeup bag exploded all over it.