Desire by Design

by Paula Altenburg

  One-hundred-twenty-thousand dollars on furniture.

  Eve felt faint. Yes, she could explain it. The high-priced architect shouldn’t be left alone with an expense account number and catalogues.

  “Custom-made furniture needs to be ordered well in advance,” she said. “Those desks and chairs are meant to suit the architectural style of the new building. They are fixtures that will never need to be replaced. As long as the new building stands, any redecorating can be done around the furniture and need not involve the furniture. Therefore, it will pay for itself in the long run. They’ll also make the Council Room an attractive place for tourists to visit. And,” she added for good measure, “I’d hardly call them ‘grossly over budget.’” She squared her shoulders, aware that Bob and Matt were staring at her in thinly veiled amazement. Well, she wouldn’t. She’d call them stupid and frivolous, but she could still see them as assets. She knew her job.

  Bob recovered first. “Exactly,” he affirmed. “The furniture should be considered permanent fixtures.”

  “Ms. Doucette.” Again, the reporter referred to his notes. Eve was beginning to hate that pile of paper. “Is it true that you are opposed to the demolition of this building?”

  Marion was the only person with whom she had discussed the matter, other than Matt and Bob. Whatever happened to professional courtesy?

  Or maybe Eve had been too eager to impress her. While she hadn’t said anything that wasn’t public information, it still made her feel like she’d done something underhanded.

  “I work for the contractor on the new construction,” she explained. She fought an urge to wipe her damp hands on something, like maybe Bob for dragging her into this mess. “The demolition of the current Hall has nothing to do with my position as project manager for the new structure.”

  “Do you specialize in historical restorations?”

  This reporter had certainly come prepared. She suspected that his hesitancy over her name had only been for effect. What had Marion told him?

  “I have worked on restoration projects, yes.” She now had a good idea where this conversation was going, and since the reporter knew exactly who she was, telling lies could only harm her professional integrity. Telling the truth, however, might possibly harm Bob, and through him, Matt. “But that’s not what I was hired for on this project.”

  “Have you seen the engineer’s report Mayor Anderson referred to?”

  Everyone in the room waited for her answer. “Yes, I have.”

  “What’s your professional opinion on it?”

  “I have no professional opinion. I haven’t enough information to give one.”

  “Then what about a personal opinion?”

  Bob sprang to his feet. “I think Ms. Doucette has already told you that she hasn’t formed an opinion. She’s not an engineer or an architect. I can’t imagine how her opinion would be of value.”

  Couldn’t imagine how her opinion would be of value? If Eve were to kill him, she had a room full of witnesses who could swear she’d been driven to it.

  “Sir,” the reporter replied politely, “it’s my understanding that she has, indeed, formed an opinion. Furthermore, it is also my understanding that she is fully qualified to state that opinion.” He proceeded to list Eve’s qualifications, and Eve had to admit, she did sound impressive. “Now. Ms. Doucette. Can this building be saved? And if so, would saving it be economically feasible?”

  “I don’t think it’s fair to put Ms. Doucette on the spot like this,” Bob continued to protest. “We’re here to talk about the new construction, not the old building.”

  The reporter scented blood in the water. “Are you saying that Ms. Doucette is not allowed to answer my question?”

  Bob straightened his shoulders and looked at Eve. “I’m advising against it.”

  Eve now had to make a choice. Everyone in the room knew that Bob Anderson was trying to pull something. Did she let him get away with it, or did she give her honest opinion? Eve asked herself what her response would be if it weren’t for Matt.

  But Matt had never given her any reason to think she couldn’t be honest. She wouldn’t want him this much if he had.

  “Yes,” she answered slowly. “I think it would be possible to save this building. But without doing cost estimates, I have no idea whether or not it would be feasible for the city to do so.”

  The reporter grunted, then moved on to other victims, for which Eve was thankful.

  Bob seemed displeased, but she didn’t especially care since she wasn’t pleased with him, either. She did, however, care about Matt. His expression was unreadable, his whole attention seemingly now focused on the next speaker, and she tried not to feel hurt.

  She’d been asked for her professional opinion, and she’d given it. She couldn’t have done anything else, not even for Matt. Because regardless of what others thought, it was more important to her that she approve of herself.

  That was the mistake she’d made in marrying Claude. She’d thought he was more important than she was, simply because they’d both been impressed by his doctorate degree.

  When the meeting was over she gathered her things and rushed from the room, ignoring the reporters who called out for her to wait.

  …

  Eve took off so fast, Matt couldn’t stop her.

  He wanted to go after her, but his issues with his uncle weren’t going to wait. He’d catch up with Eve as soon as he could because they had things to discuss, too, but he was tired of people messing with her. That included his uncle. She was so easily manipulated, and never seemed to see it coming.

  Claude had manipulated her, too. Eve hadn’t gone to the police before, and he’d known she wouldn’t this time. He’d anticipated that she’d try and hit him again, and he’d done his best to provoke her. That was why he’d turned his head away. He’d planned all along to press charges against her.

  Because Eve was far more predictable than she realized.

  Matt leaned closer so only Uncle Bob could hear. “I want to see you in your office.”

  His uncle froze for a millisecond, then continued to toss notes back into his briefcase. “Not now, Mattie. I have damage control to attend to.”

  “If you don’t find the time right this minute, you’re going to have a lot more damage than this to control.”

  Uncle Bob spoke up, addressing a few of the reporters who were hovering near the door. “I can’t talk right now,” he said. “A family emergency has just come up.”

  Matt followed close behind him. They strode down the hall and up the wide staircase, then turned right into a suite of offices. Packing crates littered the floors.

  Uncle Bob waved to his secretary. “Hold my calls.”

  He closed the heavy, colonial door leading to his private office before facing Matt. “Can we make this fast? I really do have things I need to take care of. That meeting was a total disaster.”

  For a man who thought the meeting was such a disaster, Uncle Bob wasn’t looking all that upset. In fact, he was looking downright happy.

  “I hope you aren’t planning to blame this on Eve,” Matt said quietly.

  “Not at all. If there’s one thing that can be counted on in this world, it’s that Evie will do exactly what she thinks is right.” His uncle rubbed his hands together. “People expect me to try and pull something over on them, and she just proved them correct. Always give people what they expect, Mattie. Remember that. Keeps them on their toes. Thanks to her, between the money we’ve already raised and the money the province will now have to kick in to protect a heritage site, we can build one helluva Matt Brison original.”

  “You used Eve to get what you want,” Matt said. Eve might be wrong about his uncle being a moron, but Uncle Bob was something, all right. “Plus, you insulted her professionalism. Do you even care how you made her feel today?”

  “I’ll make it up to her.”

  Matt wondered what world his uncle lived in. “If I were you, I wouldn’t send her f
lowers. Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but she doesn’t like them very much.”

  “No, I won’t send her flowers. But I have arranged for her ex-husband to be sent on a special long-term research project in the Arctic Ocean,” Bob said. “Good thing Evie got in that punch when she did. Seems the federal government needs a shellfish expert, and the University’s president highly recommended him for the position.” Uncle Bob, whistling merrily, sank an imaginary putt. “You should take up golf, Mattie. You get to be friends with a lot of influential people.”

  From the South Pacific to hunting shellfish in the Arctic…ouch. That would have to hurt almost as much as Claude’s broken nose. Uncle Bob was a man who really knew how to throw a punch.

  In that instant, Matt forgave him. “Thank you,” he said. He’d been grateful before for the things his uncle had done for him over the years, but this trumped them all. “I don’t know how to repay you.”

  “A private donation would be nice. Eve’s been making noise about wanting me to buy curtains for a youth Internet café project she’s been volunteering on.” Bob looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment. “I keep trying to tell you that she’s too good for you.”

  “She is, but I’m going to marry her, anyway.” All he had to do was figure out some way to get her to say yes. Deep down, tough little Eve was scared to death of commitment.

  Uncle Bob shifted some papers on his desk, a small, satisfied smile lurking on his lips. “Finally. I was starting to worry you’d never figure out that smart men marry up.”

  Matt knew he’d been played. He supposed he’d known all along. “What makes you think she’ll marry down?”

  “I told you already. If there’s one thing you can count on, it’s that Eve will do what she thinks is right.” Uncle Bob’s smile widened. “And what she thinks is right is usually the opposite of whatever I say.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Marion pushed open the front door of City Hall and stepped out into blazing sunlight behind Eve. “Bob’s not above the law,” she said. “He can’t just go around imploding heritage sites because it suits his purposes.”

  Eve tried to calm herself. “I don’t want to be a part of your strategy for putting Bob in his place.” Not if it meant hurting Matt.

  “Yet, you came off looking great,” Marion said. “You’ll get your name—and your credentials—in the press. That’ll be a big help to you when the Province buys the old Hall from the Municipality. We’re going to restore it.” Eve could hear the satisfaction in the other woman’s voice. “You’ll be invited to submit a tender—I’ll see that you are. And Bob’s still going to get his new Hall. It just won’t be on the site he wants. What’s not to like?”

  Eve went hot, then cold. This explained Matt’s silence in the car on their way home from her parents’ place. Somehow he had known about this, even though she hadn’t, which meant he’d heard it from Bob. Not only had he gotten dragged to the police station over what they’d classified as a domestic dispute because of her, but Matt probably thought she was a liar now, too. And there was no guarantee she’d even be given the work.

  “You might as well get used to this.” Marion’s tone was kind, although her words were heartless. “This is business, and Bob took his chances. Besides, I wouldn’t be too sure this isn’t exactly what he wanted.”

  Marion was undoubtedly right. It wouldn’t surprise Eve at all if Bob had planned things this way. His underhandedness knew no bounds.

  Marion got into a waiting taxi, giving Eve a friendly wave as she rode off.

  Eve had no idea what to do next, only that she wasn’t yet ready to face Matt. Suddenly, he was there, anyway, behind her on the steps, his expression intent. Determined.

  And focused on her.

  She knew that look all too well. Right away, it put her on the defensive.

  “I had to tell the truth in there,” she said, cutting him off before he could get a word in. “I’m sorry if I made things more difficult for your uncle, but Bob doesn’t seem to know the difference between right and wrong.”

  “I don’t think you need to feel too sorry for Uncle Bob,” Matt said, although his expression never altered. He looked around at the busy street. “But there’s something I need to talk to you about, and this isn’t exactly private.”

  If he planned to lecture her, she wasn’t ready to hear it. “I’ve got to go. I have to get to a job site.”

  “Eve, wait. I—”

  She scurried down the stairs but didn’t get farther than the gated street entry to the front courtyard before a shrill whistle rent the air.

  “Hey, baby! Bring some of that over here!”

  Eve froze.

  Matt?

  There were a few reporters milling around on the front steps of the Hall, as well as a camera crew and several tourists, not to mention the people out on the street. Yet that had come from Matt?

  “Never mind. I’ll come and get it myself,” he said, jogging past the press and down the steps toward her. The next thing she knew he’d hoisted her over his shoulder, planting his hand on her backside to keep her short skirt in place. Her briefcase went flying.

  “Put me down,” she hissed, all the blood rushing to her head in her upside-down position. She tried to brush her hair out of her eyes.

  Matt stooped and grabbed her briefcase. “This is the only thing you seem to understand,” he said. “But I’ve got to say, I thought you were better than this.” He steadily ignored the laughter as he carried her back up the steps. “I never realized you were such a coward that you’d spend the rest of your life afraid to try again.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said. She must look really stupid hanging over Matt’s shoulder with his hand patting her—

  “I think you do.” Someone opened the door for him and he thanked him or her politely, as if it were natural to be hauling a woman around like a sack of cement. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and searched for an empty room. When he found one, he shut the door behind them and lowered her to her feet. He set her briefcase on a desk.

  “I know you aren’t crazy about the idea of a long-term commitment, but I think there’s something you should know. Sooner or later, I’m going to marry you. I’ll give you plenty of time to get used to the idea, but once you do, I want you to understand that this marriage is going to last a whole lot longer than two weeks. So don’t even think about sending the gifts back.”

  He was serious.

  “I drive you crazy,” she said, refusing to believe it. He couldn’t have thought this through. “I’m always going to say or do exactly what I think. I’ll never make you happy.”

  “I don’t want to be happy. I want you.” He was grinning like a nut. “I never got to finish the list of things I like about you. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Professional. I like your honesty. I like the way you always do what you believe is right, even if it turns out you’re wrong. And personal. I love you. All of you, even the irritating bits, and not just those skimpy little panties you leave hanging all over the place. I want to marry you, Eve. I want to have babies with you.”

  He’d said he loved her.

  Her heartstrings were now strung so tight there was a real possibility she might be having a heart attack. Then, the rest of what he’d said registered.

  Babies. Matt definitely hadn’t thought this through.

  “It’s hard enough to get out of a mistake when there are just two people involved,” she pointed out. “It would be impossible if there were children. We’d be stuck with each other forever.”

  “‘Stuck’ isn’t the word I’d use, but I’m willing to take that chance. I know the whole idea of marriage scares you, but I’ll be right there with you, helping you out.”

  “What if we change?” she asked, wanting to make sure he knew what he was getting himself into, afraid to let herself hope too much. “What if in five years’ time we aren’t the same people anymore?”

  “Of course we won’t be the sa
me people,” he said. “People grow and change. But we’ll be growing and changing together.”

  She thought about what marriage to Matt would mean. It meant children—which she thought she’d enjoy—although now that he’d met her family and seen the gene pool, he couldn’t possibly want more than one or two. It meant starting her career over and moving to Toronto, because she couldn’t see the practical sense in having him be the one to try and move a whole business to Nova Scotia.

  It meant loving him as much as he loved her. Or, possibly, even a little bit more, because Eve suddenly realized something. If Matt had been the one to ask her to move to a small island in the South Pacific, she’d have followed him gladly. She’d follow him anywhere. Yet here she was, pushing him away when what she should be doing was hanging on as tight as she possibly could.

  She could do commitment. She’d simply needed to find the right person to trust with her heart.

  “Are you going to make me live in a house made of glass and steel?” she asked.

  “I don’t think putting you in a glass house is such a good idea,” he replied, a slow smile easing his intensity. “I was picturing something like an old farmhouse we could renovate together. Something with lots of room for a homegrown soccer team.”

  Okay, so maybe he would want more than one or two children—and it didn’t make sense to waste all that space he was talking about, did it?

  Eve buried herself in his arms.

  “In that case,” she said, “I’m all yours. I love you, too, Matt.”

  “If you love me, you’re going to have to stop referring to marriage as a mistake,” he said, seconds before his lips closed over hers. “Because personally, I’ve never made a mistake that feels this right.”

  And Eve, safely cocooned as she was in the warmth and love of his embrace, found herself inclined to agree.

  Acknowledgments

  The team at Entangled Publishing is fabulous. Thanks to all of them, especially Danielle Poiesz for her editing skills.