by Beth K. Vogt
Who am I, God?
I mean, truly . . . who am I? Not who do I have to be to keep my dad happy . . . Just . . . who am I? I know I should know this by now . . . but I don’t. I let someone else fill in the answers for me.
Caron closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of the terminal beginning to fill up with passengers rushing to their gates. Maybe she needed to be more eloquent. More specific. But this early in the morning, with too little sleep and too much travel ahead of her, that’s all she could come up with.
She could only hope it was enough.
SEVENTEEN
First day. New job. Clarification—new interim job. Three and a half weeks. Twenty-one days to do what she needed to do to prove herself again. To Kade Webster, the man approaching her with a long-legged stride. Familiar—and yet this was totally unfamiliar territory.
Kade was her boss. She was his employee. So long as she kept that fact straight while she was here, everything would be fine.
“Are you ready to get started?”
“Absolutely.” Caron gripped the handles of her mulberry leather tote. Dug the three-inch heels of her matching shoes into the plush cream carpeting in the waiting area. Pasted on a smile she hoped looked natural—and not overly caffeinated, which she was, thanks to a night spent tossing and turning in Margo’s spare bedroom. Last night was a blur of too little sleep mixed with frantic prayer. Kade turned toward the young woman behind the front desk, who rose to meet Caron. “This is Miriam. She’s worked with me since day one. She’s reliable, catches on quickly, and keeps everything organized. I never miss a message, thanks to her.”
“Hello, Miriam. I’m Caron.” She peeled her fingers away from the handle of her tote and shook hands with the young woman, who couldn’t be a day over twenty-one, if that. She wore a trendy multicolored wrap around her shoulder-length dreadlocks and a breezy white top over wide-leg pants.
“Good morning. It’s nice to meet you. After Mr. Webster shows you around, I’ll check in and see if there’s anything you need.” As the phone rang, she whispered “excuse me” and returned to work.
“I have one other Realtor working for me. I hope we can catch him before he heads out this morning. I know he had some early showings.” He rapped on the open doorway of the first office. “Mitch? Good, you’re still here. I wanted to introduce you to Caron Hollister.”
A muscular, broad-shouldered man with dark blond hair moved his wheelchair around from behind his desk. “Ah, the infamous Caron Hollister.”
“Infamous?” Caron shook her head, even as her skin flushed. “I hardly think so.”
“Just a joke. Although I will say Kade almost cartwheeled into the office today knowing you were coming to stage the Tour of Homes house. He’s talked you up quite a bit.”
Caron scrambled to remember what Kade had told her about Mitch. They’d met during army boot camp, and their bond was forged a couple of years later when they reconnected during Ranger training. “He did, did he?”
“Don’t be modest, Caron.” Kade leaned back against the doorjamb, the epitome of relaxed confidence in his navy-blue blazer and tan slacks over a white dress shirt. “Hollister Realty—Hollister Realty Group now, right?—is one of the top companies on the Gulf Coast. And you were one of their top Realtors last year.”
“Just hard work paying off, that’s all.”
“She’s modest. You didn’t mention that.” Mitch’s smile held a hint of bad-boyishness. “Good to have you with us. Kade’s a good boss. He believes in that one-for-all-and-all-for-one stuff.”
Caron shook his hand. “Thanks, Mitch. I’m excited about being here.”
And now she sounded like some mechanical doll. Just pull the string and she’d say the appropriate phrase. Her frayed nerves and lack of sleep were getting the better of her.
Kade led her down a hallway decorated with photographs of aspens, mountain streams, and autumn foliage.
“Very Coloradoan.”
“Of course. Setting the appropriate tone.” Kade pointed to an office on the left, stepping back to let her enter. “This is your office. Do whatever you want to make it your own.”
A basic dark brown desk. A high-back fabric chair. Small window. That was a plus. A computer.
She stepped inside, pivoting to face Kade. “I don’t need all this, not when I’m here for less than a month.”
“You still need someplace to work. It’s a spare office, Caron. Go ahead and put a plant in here.” As he continued down the hallway, she dropped her tote off and resumed the tour. “My office is to the right. Conference room is in the middle area. Break room to the left. Bathrooms are straight back. As you can see, we’re not that large—yet.”
“It’s a good size.”
“A good size to begin. I didn’t want to waste a lot of money on overhead at first. I’m already looking around for what’s next. I want to rent something larger. Maybe buy a building. Who knows what will happen after the Tour of Homes.”
“You have a lot riding on that, don’t you?”
“Yes and no. I believe in the adage ‘Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.’ ”
“So not all your business hopes are pinned on the tour?”
“Of course not.” He stuck his hands in his pant pockets. “We’ve worked together before, Caron. You know me better than that.”
She didn’t have to worry about being uncomfortable working for Kade Webster. The man had met her at the office, introduced her to the receptionist and Mitch, gave her the grand tour, and then told her to have a great day and disappeared out the front door.
Which suited her just fine.
She needed to get settled. To focus on the Tour of Homes project. The easiest way to do that was to do what she had to without worrying about where Kade was.
“Do you need anything, Caron?” Miriam appeared in the doorway of her office.
“I don’t think so, but thank you. I’m just trying to get set up here.” Caron returned the girl’s friendly smile as she plugged in her iPad.
“Mr. Webster said not to order you any business cards, correct?”
“No. I’ll be gone after the Tour of Homes.”
“If you don’t mind me saying so, I think you’ll love working here. Mr. Webster is a great boss.”
Was that the slight echo of an office crush in Miriam’s voice?
“He has high standards, but he pays well and he’s very fair.” Miriam stepped into the office. “I need to get you a desk lamp in here. I’ll talk to Mr. Webster about that. Anyway, he’s a straight-up kind of guy.”
“A straight-up kind of guy?”
“Yes, I might as well tell you this is my first real job. My mother warned me not to get any ideas about my boss, but I mean, have you seen Mr. Webster?” Miriam giggled. “Of course you have. He could be on TV, don’tcha think? What girl wouldn’t get a crush on him?”
Bingo.
Caron found Miriam’s naïve honesty endearing and couldn’t help responding. Oh, to be that young again. “You had a crush on Mr. Webster?”
“I hate to admit it, but I did.” Miriam twisted a dreadlock. “It was pretty obvious. I tripped all over myself and kept forgetting to do things the way he asked. Kept messing up the phone calls. He should have fired me.”
“What did he do?” There was no way Caron would ever confess to Miriam that she once had similar feelings for Kade. Even though she was older and wiser, Caron couldn’t help smiling at the girl’s romantic travails in the midst of a stressful situation.
“He called me into his office and told me it was time for my first month’s review. He thanked me for being punctual and always being pleasant with the clients and for keeping such an orderly desk.”
“And?”
“And then he said if I didn’t stop acting like a schoolgirl, he’d have to fire me and find someone else to do my job.”
“He did not.” Despite her protest, Caron wasn’t too surprised Kade had been so blunt with the girl.
�
�He did. I about died from embarrassment. But honestly, he was as nice as he could be about it. He asked if I could please make it easy on him so he wouldn’t have to hire anyone else because overall I was doing well. And then he said he was a committed bachelor or something like that—”
“A confirmed bachelor?”
“Yeah. And that he was too busy starting up his business to get involved with anyone. And besides, good bosses do not date their employees.”
“Good point.”
“Mr. Webster said it’s company policy, although there’s nothing in the employee handbook. I looked. Not that I was going to argue with him or anything, I love this job. I’m saving up so that I can go to college eventually. And I don’t think I’m going to find a better boss than Mr. Webster.”
“I would have to agree. Some bosses might actually take advantage of your, um, schoolgirl crush.”
“That’s what my best friend said,” Miriam said, and backed toward the door. “Anyway, I really do think you’re going to like working here.”
“I’m excited about staging the house.” Caron smiled at the young girl. Unwritten rule or not, the no-dating-employees rule was best. Miriam didn’t need to know Caron herself had learned that truth the hard way.
EIGHTEEN
Time to be the boss.
Kade had kept busy with his clients, giving Caron two hours to set up her office. He’d treat her like any other new employee and give her space. Let Miriam answer any basic questions. But he couldn’t do evasive maneuvers all day, every day while Caron was here. They had to work together at some point. Go over their employment agreement. And get started on Kingston’s house.
Kade pushed away from his desk. He’d been staring at his computer screen for the last five minutes. Neither of them had time to waste, and it was up to him to get things started. All he had to do was find his new employee and invite her to go see the Peak Tour of Homes house. Not that he was offering a real say-yes-or-no invitation. They needed to start planning how Caron was going to stage the house.
Finding her office empty, Kade checked with Miriam.
“Have you seen Miss Hollister? Did she head out to buy something?”
“Did you check the break room? She came by a bit ago and asked if we had any pitchers.”
“Pitchers? Okay, thanks.”
Caron was faced away from him as he entered the break room. A pile of torn foil tea-bag wrappers littered the counter.
Kade tucked his hands in his pockets. “You planning on drinking a lot of hot tea?”
Caron whirled around, creating enough of a draft that the pile of wrappers fluttered to the floor. “What? Oh, Kade, it’s you. No . . . no, I’m making a pitcher of sweet tea.”
“Ah.” Caron’s drink of choice. “How did I forget your addiction to that stuff?”
“It’s not an addiction—” Caron waved him away and knelt to gather the debris on the floor, her once-again blond hair spilling across her shoulders. “It’s a preference. And while I’m here, there will be a pitcher of the best sweet tea you’ve ever tasted in that fridge over there.”
“No complaints here. Will it have a ‘For Caron Hollister Only’ sign on it?”
“Hardly. I don’t mind sharing.”
“Just mark it ‘Sweet Tea’ in nice bold letters. Can’t have Mitch and Miriam victims of an unexpected sugar high.”
“Got it.” Caron added one more tea bag to the pitcher. “Did you need to talk with me?”
“I was wondering if you’re ready to go see Kingston’s house?”
“Absolutely. I’ve got some preliminary ideas, of course, but I’m eager to do a walk-through and get a feel for the house.”
“Perfect. Meet me in the parking lot in five?”
“Sure.”
Thanks to an unexpected phone call, Caron waited for him beside his car, dark purple leather tote in one hand, two bottles of water balanced in the other.
“Miriam sent these.” Caron nodded toward the plastic bottles. “She said to remind you that she deserves a raise.”
“Yeah, she tells me that about once a week. It’s an ongoing joke.” Kade hit the keyless entry to unlock the car. “Be careful when you sit down, okay? I left something in the passenger seat.”
“What? Kade Webster, Realtor, keeping a less-than-spotless car?”
“Hardly. For your information, I just had it detailed. I got you something.”
Caron deposited the bottles of water in the cup holder, slid her bag in front of the passenger seat, and found his offering. Slipping into her seat, she shook the red box of Hot Tamales so the candy rattled around. “What’s this?”
“I believe you used to refer to that as ‘brain food.’ I need you at your creative best.”
“Thanks.” Before he even pulled out of the parking lot, she’d opened the box and indulged in a couple of pieces. “So tell me more about the Tour of Homes house.”
“Well, it’s located out in the northern part of town in a new subdivision.” Kade maneuvered the car onto Powers Boulevard heading north. “I convinced Eddie Kingston to make some last-minute changes—”
“You convinced the builder to make some changes? I would have liked to listen in on that conversation.”
“Yes, well, he was surprised at first, but I’d done my research well enough to know he was an innovator—”
“Smart, Kade, very smart.”
“Thank you, but this conversation will go a lot easier if you stop interrupting me.” Kade raked his fingers through his hair. “Some things never change.”
“Did you just say ‘Some things never change’? What does that mean?”
“It means you still have your tendency to interrupt when I’m talking, Miss Hollister.”
“I do not interrupt conversations. I participate in them.”
“Well, participate in this one a little less so I can explain what’s going on before we get to our destination.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“Boss.” Kade nodded, unable to hold back the smile curving his lips. “I like the sound of that. Feel free to use that term whenever you wish.”
When Caron popped another Hot Tamale into her mouth as a response, Kade twisted to look at her.
“What’s the matter? You can’t say ‘boss’ more than once a day?”
“I’m not hijacking the conversation.”
At her reply, Kade chuckled. “All right. Since I have your undivided—and uninterrupted—attention, I’ll continue. Eddie is redoing the house so it works for a handicapped person—a Wounded Warrior or maybe an elderly person who has to use a wheelchair or a walker.”
“You mean someone like Mitch.” Caron covered her mouth with her hand, muttering a muffled “sorry.”
“Yes, someone like Mitch. He was my inspiration.” He held out his hand. “You owe me one Hot Tamale, please.”
“Are you making up rules as we go along?” Caron doled out the required single Hot Tamale. “And I thought this box of candy was a gift, not some sort of penalty box.”
He popped the candy into his mouth. “We’re running up against an almost impossible schedule, what with widening doorways, pulling up carpeting, retrofitting the master bathroom, lowering some of the kitchen cabinets and counters, and the sink, too. Ramps for the front and back doors.”
Kade stopped talking and silence filled the car.
“So what do you think?”
Caron formed a T with her hand and the box of candy. “I just called a time-out. So, when I speak, I do not forfeit a Hot Tamale.”
“Fair enough.”
“I think this is a brilliant idea. I can’t wait to walk through the house and see how much has been done.”
“Eddie promised to meet us there today so he can give us a tour of the home himself. He huffed and puffed at first about making the changes—”
“I can imagine—”
Kade held out his hand for another piece of candy, his eyes still on the road.
“What?
Oh, fine.” Caron dropped another candy into his palm.
“As I was saying, he blustered a bit at first about the added work, but things are moving fast now. I’m eager to see what he’s done.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Kade caught Caron’s silent nod. It was surprising how a box of candy had helped them relax with one another.
But was that what he wanted? To relax? Get comfortable with Caron Hollister again? Was he maintaining proper business demeanor?
He shifted in his seat, as if putting a few more inches between him and the woman beside him would reestablish the needed boundary. He’d asked her to come to Colorado to help him, not to get involved with her again. And he wasn’t about to open himself up to getting hurt by her again.
“Is there anything else you want to tell me, or do you want to hear some of my ideas?”
Caron’s voice pulled Kade from his musings.
“We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. Why don’t we talk more once you’ve seen the house? Discuss it as we go room to room?”
“Good idea.”
Kade switched on the radio, filling the car with a current country hit. He’d avoid conversation, filling the silence with someone else’s thoughts set to music. By the time they arrived at the house, he’d be back in the proper mind-set.
Two professionals working together. Nothing more.
• • •
Caron left Eddie and Kade inside the house, her iPad on the kitchen counter, easing open the sliding glass door that led to the backyard.
She’d accompanied the two men through all the rooms, dodging workers laying cream-colored Berber carpet and painting walls a muted eggshell as she typed notes in her iPad and took photos of each room. Possible ideas for colors, furniture, and accent pieces competed inside her head—ones she’d thought of back in Florida and new ideas now that she’d seen the house. All she had to do was sort everything out, room by room, into a plan that would best showcase the house.
The Front Range, capped by Pikes Peak, stretched out against a cloudless Colorado-blue sky. Now, how would that color be described if it were paint? She squinted, trying to remember some of the names she’d come across in store displays. Parade Blue. Baby Blue Eyes. Atlas Blue. Nope. Nothing but Colorado Blue worked. And even with the bright June sunshine, Caron savored the lack of humidity that would have caused her blouse to cling to her skin by now. Rolls of sod were positioned around the yard, as well several flats of bright red, purple, and white petunias.