Risky Business

by Melissa Cutler

  “Why, exactly, are you so angry at me?”

  “Because Cloud Nine is mine.” His attention snapped to the stack of paper on the table, a proposed contract he’d had drawn up right before Lowell’s assets were frozen. He’d brought the contract with him when he showed up in Cloud Nine’s office less than an hour after the crowds dispersed and she’d returned to the landing to put Katie to sleep in the portable crib she’d set up in the larger of the two bedrooms, the only one with a bed.

  She set her hand on the other stack of papers on the table, the legal proof that she was now the sole C.E.O. of Cloud Nine Incorporated and sole owner of the landing property. “But it’s not yours. It’s mine.” She hoped her answer sounded as strong as she meant it to, with quiet authority, as though her conscience wasn’t engaged in a tug-of-war with her brain over the unappealing position her sudden ownership put him in.

  As infuriating as Theo was, she couldn’t help seeing the situation from his point of view. He’d been poised to buy the company, and he had to feel as though she was stealing it from under his nose. In a way, Theo was a victim of Lowell’s hubris and greed as much as Allison was. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a legitimate claim to it, and an equally legitimate reason for turning down the offer to buy Cloud Nine that he’d made her a half hour earlier.

  Hence, the tantrum and threat to devour her.

  It was a dangerous, thin line to walk. If he quit, then her failure was practically guaranteed because she was in no way qualified to run a boat rental company. One might call that pessimism, but Allison was determined to turn over a new leaf as a realist. No more head in the sand like she’d done while married, when she’d repeatedly allowed her determination to be optimistic bulldoze over scary, real-life concerns as if she were the love child of Mary Poppins and Mr. Rogers.

  “I’ve worked at Cloud Nine for ten years, operated it on my own for five. I have a stake in this company, a history, and you come sweeping in here like a hurricane. You’re going to run this business into the ground—if you don’t burn it to the ground first.”

  Cheap shot about her fire mishap aside, she knew in her heart that he was wrong. Failing was not an option. Because if she ran the business into the ground, what then? How would she support herself and Katie? She’d be back to the same dismal options she’d had before Lowell’s attorney had presented Cloud Nine as part of their assets in the divorce.

  She could not and would not fail, because more powerful than her fears was her iron will to do right by her daughter and make something of herself. There were no forces in the world greater than that kind of determination. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

  Eyebrows raised, he gave an incredulous snort. “Want to bet?” He speared a finger toward the window. “In case you hadn’t noticed, this is a boat rental company and you’re afraid of water. How fucked-up is that?” His shout reverberated off the kitchen walls.

  Allison pressed her palms against the table, refusing to cower. “Oh, it’s pretty fucked-up. I get that. Water is my curse, always has been and always will be. But I’m not afraid of it; I hate it. You, of all people, should understand the difference between fear and hate.”

  “Lady, you don’t know the first thing about me,” he snarled, throwing her words back in her face.

  She did, though. After she was rescued from the water, she might have been soaking wet and pissed off, but she’d noticed that he kept his houseboat in meticulous condition inside and outside, which meant he took care of the things that were important to him; he had a lot of close friends and neighbors who had dropped everything to help him, which meant he was a good man and good neighbor; and he’d kept Cloud Nine running despite Lowell’s neglect, which meant he had a keen business sense.

  He cared deeply about the people in his life, his work, and his home, which was why she also knew that the reason he hated her was that he was afraid of losing everything he cared about. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out, and she didn’t blame him. She probably would have hated her, too, if she’d been in his position.

  There wasn’t anything she could do about that now except leverage the things he cared about to persuade him to stay on as her employee. “I’m not going to run Cloud Nine into the ground because you’re not going to let that happen. You’re going to get me up to speed on the business and teach me everything I need to know to help it thrive.”

  His expression turned hard. “No. It’s going to thrive because you’re going to sell it to me.”

  She ignored the bait. “We’ll start later this morning, going over the financials and next year’s calendar.”

  He faked an exaggeratedly blithe shake of his head. “Sorry, I already have plans for today, meeting with my lawyer to draw up a new sales contract and contacting the bank about cutting a down payment check.”

  She marched out of the kitchen, through the dark, smoke-scented lobby to the office’s back door. She turned to find him watching her, his shoulder propped against the wall near the kitchen.

  With as much aplomb as she could manage, she opened the door and attempted to usher him out with a sweep of her hand. “Sounds like we both need to get some sleep because it’s going to be a busy day.”

  He pushed off the wall. Back to giving off that angry bear vibe, he didn’t so much swagger as stalk her with slow deliberate steps across the office until he towered over her, close enough that her chest brushed his stomach. Though his expression was still hard, the fire in his eyes had returned in full force. She held her ground and held his gaze.

  “Good night, Theoren.”

  He answered her in a quiet growl of French that felt more like a threat than parting pleasantries.

  She’d taken French in high school because the football quarterback she’d had a crush on had taken it, too. But she hadn’t been studious enough to earn the position of the awkward, nerdy girl he turned to to do his French homework for him. That had been Teresa Showalter. French class hadn’t taught Allison anything except how to ask someone in French what their name was or where she might find the restroom—and that high school was utterly unfair. It certainly hadn’t provided her with any curse words or clever retorts to lob back at a seething Frenchman.

  So she did the only thing her training as a politician’s wife had taught her—how to make nice with loathsome people while manipulating a situation to skew it in her favor. God knew she’d seen Lowell do that enough, along with every other politician and their spouses she was forced to socialize with. Reaching between their bodies, she wedged her fingers into the palm of his right hand and shook it.

  “I’m glad we reached an understanding. I know I didn’t thank you earlier, and I’m sorry for the oversight because, the truth is, even though you nearly drowned me, I’m quite grateful that you didn’t let me or our business burn.” She put the emphasis on our, hoping to tap into the possessiveness he felt for the business. “We have a lot of work to do before May and I’m looking forward to rolling up my sleeves and getting to it, with your help—starting bright and early this morning.”

  He wriggled out of her grip. “Our business?”

  She smiled brightly. “Good night.”

  And then she shut the door in his face, locked it, and walked away before he had a chance to spew more ugly French curses at her or cast any more angry bear glares her way.

  ***

  Bright and early came far too fast for Allison, but Katie was nothing if not punctual when it came to waking up hungry and cranky. Six a.m. on the dot, as usual. Allison sat cross-legged on the bed in the only furnished room on the second floor, Katie in her lap sucking enthusiastically on her bottle of formula.

  She wished Katie hadn’t been in such a hurry to wean from nursing, because Allison hadn’t been ready to give that up, but, although Katie was normally very easygoing, it was one issue about which Allison hadn’t been able to change her mind. Still, A
llison tried to keep the time between them in the morning quiet and special, a few mandatory minutes of peace with her child before the craziness of the day began. She’d started that routine during Lowell’s trial and she rued the hard truth that there would come a day that Katie grew out of needing these early morning cuddles.

  As they sat, she took stock of the room they’d slept in. The queen-size bed had sheets and a blanket, and she’d found a hand towel and toilet paper in the attached bathroom, but little else.

  Her original plan had been to scope out the landing on Thursday evening, then find an inexpensive hotel for the night and return in the morning to meet Cloud Nine’s two employees. She’d planned to ease into ownership of Cloud Nine slowly so as not to interfere with the employees’ established routine, with the idea that she’d apartment shop during the week in advance of next weekend, when the truck delivering the mobile storage unit carrying the contents of her old house was scheduled to arrive from Buffalo, along with her sister and brother to help her move it all in.

  When she’d arrived, she’d been delighted to find that Cloud Nine’s office was a converted house, with a second story that included a furnished bedroom—furnished being a loose term. Lowell had failed to mention that. But staying here saved her the expense of a hotel room, which she really couldn’t afford. Hence, why she’d attempted to stave off the house’s chill by getting a cozy fire going.

  She supposed she could have returned to her parents’ house in Buffalo for the night, or found that hotel room after all, given the fire damage and burnt odor, but since it seemed that she and Theo were already locked in a territorial standoff, she didn’t think it played in her favor to be gone from the place. So much for easing in slowly.

  Both her siblings lived highly scheduled lives, with work during the week and their kids’ sports and church on the weekend, so bumping up the moving day was out of the question. She’d just have to suck it up with the sparse decor and amenities until then. Hopefully, Shawna, the receptionist, kept coffee and a coffeemaker in the kitchen, because Allison’s was packed in the storage pod, which she was only now realizing was a terrible oversight.

  She had no idea what the odds were that she could get the fire damage repaired before her older siblings brought their judgy opinions with them to take stock of her life choice, but she was glad for these few quiet minutes with Katie until she had to go downstairs and figure out how to get a recommendation for a trustworthy general contractor. She pretty much figured Theo wouldn’t lift a finger to help her find someone. He’d probably try to use this as a lesson to show her how in-over-her-head she was with the company. Jerk.

  The bedroom boasted three ancient vertical sliding windows that took up most of the wall space on the south side of the room and created a sweeping view of the canal, which was exasperating. If she took this room as her own, she’d have to wake up every morning looking at water. She hadn’t put that all together last night while setting up Katie’s portable crib in here, but dawn was nothing if not a shedder of light.

  Allison carried with her the secret suspicion that the world’s water had decided, when she was a kid, that it didn’t like her. As a school bully might. For no good reason, it didn’t like her and so it was going to push her around and dump on her and make her miserable just because it could, because it was bigger and stronger than she.

  She understood, logically, that this was a ridiculous way to feel. Besides not believing in magic, she was also smart enough not to believe that water was sentient. Of course it wasn’t. Except that then why did she keep nearly drowning? Why was it that every major change in her life happened while she was drenched? Every single one. It rained during her high school graduation ceremony, and on her wedding day, during their outdoor ceremony, when no rain was expected. It rained on her during Katie’s birth, and the day her divorce became final, she came out of her lawyer’s office to discover that a bus had hit a fire hydrant next to her car. Her car had been completely flooded.

  And last night . . . well, she should have expected a near drowning to mark the milestone of this massive life change.

  When her furniture arrived next Saturday, she’d have Grant and Janie help her set up her bed in the other, smaller, bathroom-free room. The one with the view of the parking lot. At least this room, for all its faults, gloriously displayed the sunrise, which shone in showy pinks and oranges this morning, streaking over the treetops on the far side of the canal. If she angled her gaze right, she couldn’t even see the water.

  She relaxed into the view and snuggled Katie closer, feeling drowsy and hopeful all over again—right up until Theo appeared, climbing the stairs to the roof deck of his houseboat, a mug in his hands, looking downright serene, thus confirming the scowl he’d sported the night before wasn’t permanently etched onto his features, but had been brought out exclusively for her. He didn’t sit on the deck, but leaned against the rail, facing the water.

  Why hadn’t she been intimidated by him last night? They’d been alone together, in the dark, with him incensed, shouting and gesturing wildly, snarling God-knows-what at her in French. Threatening to devour her. Why hadn’t she been afraid of him, at least a little in the back of her mind, like any sane woman should have been in that situation? It didn’t make sense, except that she must have known, on some level, that he wouldn’t hurt the person whose life he’d risked his own to save.

  That had to be it. On paper, he was scary and intimidating, but the only thing about him that intimidated her was her inappropriate physical attraction to him. To shake off a vision of him stripping down to his boxers, she forced her thoughts back around to how utterly obnoxious he was.

  Her gaze slipped from the sunrise to Theo’s ass. How could it not? As much as the sunrise, it was a fine part of the scenery. A thousand times more pleasing than the canal water. Maybe this would be her thing—secretly drinking her fill of his finery every morning while she fed Katie and he took his morning coffee. It wasn’t a bad way to start the day, if only a smidge stalkerish. Maybe the daily dose of objectification would help her ignore her attraction to him the rest of the day. Goodness knows she needed to be on her A game around him.

  He was wearing the same clothes as he had a few hours earlier when he stood in the kitchen, which tugged at her curiosity.

  “Well, Katie, do you think he slept in those clothes? Maybe he didn’t sleep at all. I don’t feel like I slept at all. Do you?”

  Katie’s eyes fluttered closed. Allison touched her little button nose and smiled down at her. She loved being a mom, like she always knew she would. This was nowhere near how she expected her lifelong dream of motherhood to be, but her baby was healthy and happy, and Allison had a few years to figure out how to break it to her that her father was a convicted criminal.

  Darkness crept up inside of her at the thought of Lowell and how utterly he’d wrecked her life, so she smiled even more brightly at Katie, adding some cooing sounds, until Katie’s eyes cracked open again and she smiled back at Allison so broadly that she released the bottle. She nuzzled Katie’s face, mugging for her and kissing her while Katie banged on her head, excited and happy. “You’re such a good girl. We’ll get through this together, won’t we?”

  Katie babbled in baby gibberish and tried to stuff Allison’s hand in her mouth. Not a minute later, a knock sounded downstairs. A glance outside told her Theo was no longer on the roof deck. She was surprised he was knocking, to be honest. Last night he’d been more of the barge-right-in type.

  She set Katie in her crib, much to her protest, pulled on an old sweatshirt, gathered up Katie again, and hurried downstairs as the knock sounded once more, louder this time and accompanied by more than one male voice.

  A crowd of men stood on the other side of the glass door. She opened it, recognizing one of them as the man from last night whom she’d handed Katie off to before Theo pushed her into the canal. Brandon, if memory served.

 
“Are we too early?” It was a man in his fifties or early sixties, with a nice tan, salt-and-pepper hair, and a fit, strapping body that looked very military-esque.

  “Early for what?” she asked.

  “We’re here to repair the fire damage.”

  Interesting. Brandon or Theo must have taken it upon himself to hire a contractor. She bristled at the idea that Theo had done so without consulting her, as a power play. Whatever brought this crew to her door, she needed a lot more information before she let them work on her business, but she wasn’t prepared to leave a group of willing workers standing out in the cold.

  She opened the door wide and moved out of their path. “Come on in.”

  They filed in, their focus on the fireplace and surrounding walls and floor. She followed their gaze. In the light of day, the damage didn’t look as bad, though the brick and walls were streaked with black, as was a semi-circle on the ceiling above it. The floors were damp and coated in white ash and charred clumps of wood that were displaced from the fireplace, probably while the volunteers were hosing it down, reminding her that things could be so much worse if help hadn’t arrived so quickly. The thought tightened her chest.

  “Thank you for coming on such short notice. Who do I have to thank for calling you in today?”

  Rather than answer, the men began an immediate assessment of the damage, talking quietly among themselves, dismissing Allison completely. They were all handsome and strapping, which Allison considered a perfectly legitimate reason to hire them, even if they were presently ignoring her—as though Theo had instructed them to. Other than the older gentleman, none of them had bothered with even a pretense of politeness, and none of them had looked her in the eye yet.

  Thanks for nothing, Theo.

  She rocked on her heels, weighing her options, then gathered her courage and snagged the attention of the older man, offering him her hand to shake. “I’m Allison.”