by Stacy Finz
“You still don’t like Lucky? I thought he was starting to grow on you.”
“I don’t know where you got that idea. You ever notice that he stares at your chest the whole time he’s talking to you?”
“He does not.”
“Look, I’m a guy. I know about this stuff. He thinks he’s being sly, but he’s full-on checking out your . . .”
She could tell from how hot her face felt that she was turning red. “Since you’re so concerned about employee-boss propriety . . . uh, conversation . . . slightly inappropriate, don’t you think?”
“Nope.” Nate took another sip of his wine. “As your boss, I’m supposed to protect you from untoward sexual advances.”
“Nate, do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”
“Because I kissed you? Twice.”
“No. Because I wouldn’t let anyone harass me. As you’ve pointed out many, many times, I don’t need this job. Therefore, I would have no qualms reporting any improper behavior from you or Lucky or anyone else.”
“Good.” He smiled. “So you don’t think I harassed you, right?”
“No. But I do think you were insensitive. You don’t have the first clue about Royce and me. And if you did, I don’t think you would be so quick to condemn me for breaking it off with him.”
Nate bent closer to her. “What did he do?”
“That’s private,” she said. “Now be a good boss and quit asking personal questions.”
Their lunch came and they ate in silence until Nate finally said, “I’m sorry I was insensitive.” Sam thought he sounded like a chastised little boy. For such a know-it-all, he could be quite adorable.
“Let’s please stop talking about this, okay?” In an attempt to change the subject, she asked, “Where are the Breyer Hotel offices?”
“They’re on this floor. There’s a hallway behind the staircase that leads to our corporate headquarters. I won’t have time to give you a tour after lunch, but I can have my assistant show you around.”
“I would like that,” she said.
After Nate paid the bill they went their separate ways—Nate to his meetings, Sam to get that tour and then off to see the Belvedere.
Sam woke up early the next morning. Went for a workout in the hotel gym, showered, and grabbed a latte at the coffee bar in the lobby before walking to the expo. On her way up Powell to Sutter Street, she wished she’d worn something warmer than her linen shift dress and cropped jacket. June in San Francisco was freezing.
The Belvedere, understated compared to the Theodore, was charming and elegant. The entire basement, a series of conference rooms, housed the bridal expo. Breyer Hotels had set up a large booth to exhibit its various venues. Yesterday, Sam had hung her display and arranged the Lumber Baron pamphlets. She noticed that Tracy was just now getting around to organizing the literature and pictures of the Theodore. As head of corporate event planning, Tracy was not only representing Breyer’s flagship hotel but Nate had made it clear that all his other event planners were to defer to her.
“Samantha, I think you should move the Lumber Baron display to the other side of the booth. It looks weird to put it here with the San Francisco properties.” In other words, Tracy was relegating her to Siberia.
Sam could have kicked up a fuss. Tracy didn’t have a chance against her. Compared to the vipers Sam ran with—Muffy Vandertilten immediately came to mind—Tracy was amateur night. But it wasn’t worth the trouble. Like her best friend, Wendy, always said, “Do you want to fight? Or do you want to win?”
So she moved the display.
“Hi, I’m Lisa. You must be Samantha.” Lisa had a Southern accent, big green eyes, and a perfect blond bob. “I love your outfit.”
“Thank you.” Sam looked down at her dress, wondering if she’d overdressed. But Lisa was wearing a suit. “Which Breyer hotel are you with?”
“I’m with the Belvedere.” Lisa held her heart. “I’m so glad to have the job. A few months ago, my boyfriend and I came out from Atlanta, where I worked events at the Hilton. For two months I couldn’t get anything. I mean the phone—dead. And then miraculously the position at the Belvedere came up. Saved my life. So you work at the Lumber Baron?”
“Yes,” Sam said. “It’s small, but very sweet.”
“Are you kidding? It’s Nate’s baby. The man dotes on the place. And isn’t he just dreamy?”
Sam smiled. “Very handsome.”
“Oh my God, he’s the best boss ever. Let me tell you, I’ve had a hard time making the adjustment here. Everyone in Atlanta was so nice. In San Francisco, people are demanding, even mean. Oops”—she covered her mouth—“you’re not offended, are you?”
Sam laughed. “I’m from Connecticut.”
“Oh.” Lisa looked at her like Connecticut wasn’t much better than San Francisco. “Anyway, Nate has been so patient and so sweet.”
Really? Sam must’ve gotten his evil twin as a boss. Or maybe he just liked Southern belles from Atlanta better.
By now, expo attendees started approaching the booth and both women moved up to the front to address questions.
“To be continued,” Lisa said in a singsongy voice.
There were a lot more people attending this expo than the Sacramento one, which Sam supposed she should’ve expected. Two hours in and she felt parched from talking so much, which surprised her. She hadn’t realized there would be so much interest in a venue four hours outside of the city, but it appeared that country weddings were even more in vogue than she’d originally thought.
All anyone seemed to want to know is if the Lumber Baron had a barn. Barns apparently were the new ballrooms. She couldn’t wait to talk to Lucky about this. Here was another way they could combine their two operations. Although she didn’t know how Mr. Bull Rider would feel about turning his cowboy camp into a wedding mill.
“You want to get a cup of coffee?” Lisa asked.
“Yes. Oh God, yes.”
But before they could break away, a young woman approached Sam. “Hi, I’m getting married next summer and I’m interested in the Theodore. It’s where my grandparents got married.”
“That’s lovely. Let me find someone who can help you,” Sam said, and glanced around the booth for Tracy. No sign of her. Sam turned to Lisa. “You know where Tracy is?” When Lisa shook her head, Sam told the young woman, “Our resident Theodore expert seems to have stepped away for a few minutes.”
“You mean the woman with brown hair?” Other than Randall, who worked at one of the other properties, Tracy was the only brunette in their group.
“She sort of blew me off, told me to call on Monday. But I came all the way from Walnut Creek.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam said. “Unfortunately, my hotel is the Lumber Baron Inn, but let me see what I can find here.” She thumbed through the Theodore literature and found folders filled with descriptions of the party rooms available, menus and prices. “Aha. This should help.” Why Tracy hadn’t given her one of the packets was a mystery.
The woman sifted through the information. “This definitely helps, but I was hoping to set up an appointment so I could bring my fiancé and mother for a consultation. I know it’s a year away, but it’s a June wedding and I know how popular those are. It would be great to get a date on the books.”
“Absolutely,” Sam said. “Are you planning to walk around the expo for a while? I could call you as soon as Tracy gets back and she can set up an appointment.”
“Couldn’t I just deal with you?”
“I wish, but my hotel is four hours away from here. She’s really your best person.”
The woman reluctantly agreed and gave Sam her cell number. By the time Sam and Lisa broke away for coffee, Tracy still hadn’t returned.
“I don’t know what to do about that poor woman,” Sam told Lisa.
“I would’ve helped, but I’m barely up to speed on the Belvedere. Plus, Tracy can be territorial and I don’t want get on her bad side.”
“
But Nate likes you,” Sam said.
“Uh, Nate likes Tracy more. According to the scuttlebutt, they’re practically engaged. The woman has him wrapped around her little finger.”
Sam’s heart stopped. Nate had told her that there was nothing going on between him and Tracy. But then again men were liars. Just look at Royce. Whatever. It wasn’t like she and Nate had a thing. He’d all but told her that they weren’t going anywhere.
What I don’t like is how much I like you.
As they headed to the elevator in search of caffeine, Lisa nudged her in the ribs. “Look over there.”
Tracy had one hip cocked against the counter of the Simpson Hotel Group’s booth, her head tilted back, laughing. A tall, arresting, gray-haired man was laughing too.
“I’m glad she’s hard at work,” Lisa said.
From the looks of their little tête-à-tête, Tracy was working all right. She was working the gray-haired man.
Chapter 15
By the time Nate got to Nugget Monday night he was wiped. He’d worked through the weekend, trying to catch up. He hadn’t even had time to pop in on the expo, not that he normally would’ve, but he wanted to check on Sam. Make sure she knew the ropes.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
Okay, he’d desperately wanted to see and impress her. Why was the million dollar question, since he’d never felt the need to wow a woman before. Especially one who worked for him.
When he pulled into his garage, he didn’t even bother to get his briefcase from the back of the car. He just wanted to get inside and collapse.
He walked into the mudroom, flicked on the light, and blinked. Whoa! He was in the wrong house. There was a bench where he usually piled random crap, a coat-tree that hadn’t been there before, and cool-looking locker cages where someone had organized his sports equipment. He wandered the rooms, noting that this house had furniture. Nice furniture. Nate tested one of the recliners, tilting it back as far it would go. Comfortable.
The walls had pictures hanging on them—a gallery of all the people he cared about and lots of Lilly. Sam must’ve gotten the photographs from Maddy, because there were ones of his parents and his sister Claire and her family. A Colin farm table anchored the dining room with a big basket of fruit on it and matching chairs. There was a coffeemaker in the kitchen. Cupboards full of dishes and glasses. Even pots and pans. He found more of Colin’s furniture—a few rockers and a swing—on the deck.
Damn! In the time he’d been gone, Sam had worked miracles. He never thought in a million years she’d come through like this, figuring she’d buy a few big-ticket items and get bored. But the house was done. Really done. Rugs, lamps, flat-screen TV, the whole nine yards.
Inside his bedroom he found new bedding and another flat-screen. The woman was a genius. He flicked it on to see if he even got cable. And hallelujah, he did. Apparently it was one of those smart TVs that worked off the Wi-Fi, like he had at the Theodore. Nice.
He tugged off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, pulled off his belt, and played with the remote control, cruising through the channels. On his way to the shower, he dropped his jeans and shorts and found a hamper in his closet, which hadn’t been there before. He used to just use a canvas shopping bag for his dirty clothes. In the bathroom sat a stack of neatly folded towels and a brand-new mat, that looked thicker than anything he’d ever seen.
After his shower, he stepped into a pair of shorts, lay flat on his back in the bed, and propped the second pillow behind his head to check out his view of the TV from this angle. It was fantastic. He put the sound on mute, picked up his phone, and started to call Sam. Then he caught the time on his bedside alarm clock. Damn, it was ten o’clock. He called her anyway.
After the sixth ring she picked up. “Hello.”
He couldn’t tell if she’d been asleep. But her voice sounded good. Husky and sexy. “The place is insane,” he said.
“Good insane or bad insane?”
“Are you kidding? Great insane. I love it.”
“Good,” she said, and giggled a little wickedly. “Because it cost you a fortune. Wait until you see my overtime bill.”
“I don’t care,” he said. “It was worth it. I mean it, Samantha, the place is off the hook. You outdid yourself. How did the expo go?”
“Good. I got a ton of interest in the Lumber Baron. It appears that country weddings are all the rage. All we need is a barn.”
“Huh?” he said. Honestly, he didn’t really care about the expo. He just liked listening to her—too much, from the way the lower half of his body was responding.
“I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”
He thought about asking her to come over, looked down at his shorts and exercised a great deal of willpower by not. “How’d your dinner go with the friend from Connecticut?” Ah, why’d I have to go asking that?
“It was nice. The restaurant Emily recommended was fabulous.”
“Sorry I wasn’t able to show you around more. But Randall took you on a tour of the other properties, right?”
“Yes. He’s a sweetheart and so is Lisa. The three of us went to dinner Sunday, before I caught my plane home.”
“That’s great,” Nate said. He liked his employees to get along; it made for good team camaraderie. “Tracy didn’t go?”
He heard Sam hesitate. “Uh, no, she had other plans.”
Nate knew Tracy held herself above the other event planners and liked to be the queen bee. He tolerated it because she was incredibly good at her job. Although lately her incessant whining had begun to irritate him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” she asked, and he could hear her stifling a yawn.
“Yep,” he said, reluctant to hang up. Couldn’t they just have phone sex? “And, Sam, thanks for the house. Seriously, you went above and beyond.”
Nate found Sam in her office the next morning. So Andy hadn’t burned the place down in their absence.
“What are you doing here so early?” he asked her.
“Working on a spreadsheet,” she said, distracted. The woman had forced him to go to bed with a raging hard-on; the least she could do is look up from her computer when he talked to her. “I hate this Excel thing.”
“Want help?”
“No. I’ll figure it out.”
“Why are you making a spreadsheet?”
She chewed on her bottom lip, lost in concentration.
“Earth to Samantha, I’m talking to you.”
“I’ll show you when I finish,” she said, and proceeded to ignore him.
He dumped his crud in his office and headed to the kitchen. Starved, Nate hadn’t felt like eating alone at the Ponderosa. Later, he’d go over to Sophie and Mariah’s house to see Lilly. Instead of Emily, he found Brady at the stove, a bandana wrapped around his head, wearing baggy chef pants and an apron.
“I thought you didn’t start until next week?”
“I don’t,” Brady said, pushing cookie sheets into the oven. “But Emily had wedding stuff to do.”
“You taking the duplex on Donner Road?”
“Yeah. I think it’ll work out real good. Thanks for hooking me up.”
“No problem. You okay on the deposit?”
“I’ve got it covered.”
“Hey, is there any truth to the rumor that you were on Top Chef?”
Brady laughed. “No truth at all. Where’d you hear that?”
“People in town.” Nate shook his head. “Get used to it. They make shit up for the pure joy of it.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Nah, but it could’ve stirred up a little chatter for the Lumber Baron on Twitter and Facebook.”
“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Brady said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t publicize my name or put up any pictures of me in cyberspace. I know it sounds weird, but it’s a personal thing.”
“You’re not wanted by the law, the IRS, or an ex-wife wanting child support? Because if so, that
becomes a personal thing for me and my business.”
“Nothing like that,” Brady said. “Hell, I let your police chief run a credit check on me for the apartment. You would’ve found out real quick if I had something to hide. It’s just . . . I’m pretty private.”
“All right,” Nate said. It’s not like the guy was Gordon Ramsay and his name would drum up all kinds of business. “Just keep making that coffee cake and we’ll do fine. Speaking of, what’s on the menu this morning? I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
Brady poured Nate a cup of coffee and fixed him a crepe filled with some sort of hash deal. The thing melted in his mouth and Nate truly hoped Brady wasn’t a serial killer, because damn the man could cook.
“What’s in the oven?”
“Mini lobster potpies for this afternoon,” Brady said. “Hang on, they’re coming out in a few seconds.”
Nate waited, sipping the rest of his coffee and scraping his plate.
Sam rushed in. “Here you are.”
“What’s up?” Today she had on pants. He liked it better when she wore skirts or dresses. Sam had killer legs. But the frilly sleeveless top wasn’t bad. It showed off her arms and her cute freckles.
“I’m ready to show you my spreadsheet.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait until the lobster potpies come out.”
She sat at the island with him and Brady brought her a cup of coffee.
“Thanks,” she said, and smiled at the cook way too brightly for Nate’s taste. “How’s it going so far?”
“It’s all good,” Brady said, removing the sheets from the oven and putting them on cooling racks. “The kitchen’s got a good vibe. Perfect layout.”
That had been Maddy’s doing. Nate’s sister couldn’t cook to save her life, but after they’d gutted the decrepit kitchen, she’d redesigned it. Nate craned his neck to check out the pies. They looked and smelled fantastic.
Brady saw him ogling them. “Give ’em a couple of minutes to cool.”
“You going to Emily and Clay’s wedding?” Sam asked Nate.
“Yeah. What do you think I should get them? Maddy and Rhys are giving them a weekend getaway package at the Theodore. They’ve both been married before, aren’t registered, and seem to have everything.”