Solar Sizzle

by Joan Bramsch

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  Fictionwise

  www.fictionwise.com

  Copyright ©2004 by Joan Bramsch

  Originally published in the United States of America, September, 2004

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Dedication

  To my daughter, Mary.

  My enthusiastic, loving first-born girl,

  Grown to competent womanhood with a family all her own

  Those in her circle of love bask in the warmth of her delightful smile

  While, willingly, she holds and protects them

  Because her heart tells her this is good.

  I love you.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 1

  "I'm telling you, you've installed those solar panels on the wrong side of the roof!” The tall man looked up with an angry scowl.

  "And I'm telling you, you don't know what the heck you're talking about,” yelled the young female from above. She was bundled against the cold in a heavy, red plaid lumber jacket. A bright woolly cap pulled down over flaming curls framed a face flushed crimson from the elements and uncontrolled fury. “We don't make mistakes!"

  The bareheaded man shook his fist at the sky. In his hand was a long slim cylinder. “I've got the damn specs right here, and I can prove you're wrong,” he yelled back. “Where's your boss so we can get this settled? You're obviously too young to carry any authority.” And what was a girl doing up on a roof anyway? he wondered, irritably.

  The girl bounded toward the edge of the roof and leaped onto the sturdy two-story aluminum ladder, coming down like a fireman, sliding along the rails in her speedy descent. The man, flabbergasted but impressed, watched her agile performance. When she landed sure-booted onto the frozen ground, she whirled to march angrily toward the man who stood fuming several yards away. Just then a tall young man came running around the corner of the house and caught the frenzied swinging dynamo by the shoulders.

  Casey!” he lamented. “What the devil's gotten into you? You haven't lost your temper like this in years."

  "He's the devil who's gotten into me.” She pointed an accusing finger at the stranger. “He's trying to tell me that we don't know what we're doing. And I'm about to prove to him that he's the one who's wrong.” Her leather-gloved hands rolled into tight little fists. “Let me go, Mike.” Her throaty low tone signaled her serious intent.

  Mike kept his hold on the squirming figure. “You can't take him on, Casey,” he cajoled. “He's too big for you."

  "The bigger they are...” Casey shot back, darkly.

  The man in question walked to the wrestling duo and glowered down at Casey before turning his attention to the red-haired man who was holding the smaller figure in check.

  "Are you the boss?” His voice was more controlled now. “We've got some mistakes to straighten out even though your young gofer thinks she knows it all.” He threw a condescending look at the red-faced girl.

  Pinning Casey against his side with his left arm, Mike thrust out his right hand, laughing gently as if at a private joke. “Perhaps we'd better begin again. Let me introduce myself. I'm Mike McDermott."

  The stranger took Mike's hand in a firm clasp, his face still unsmiling, but certainly not as angry as he had been. “And I'm Shawn O'Brien with Alternative Energy International, the manufacturer of the solar panels you've installed incorrectly on this roof.” He sliced another chilling glare at the young girl still held hostage by the stronger man.

  Mike's face broke into a wide grin. “Ah, a fellow Irishman! Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. O'Brien."

  "Probably Shanty Irish!” muttered Casey.

  "You'd better tell this little runt to shut up,” cautioned Shawn sternly. “She's going to have to eat her words. If she were working for me, she'd have been fired long ago. How do you abide such insolence?"

  Mike threw back his head and laughed heartily. “Easy, Mr. O'Brien,” he replied. “You may very well be the one who has some words to swallow.” Still hanging on for dear life to the fuming figure beside him, he confided startling information. “I'd like you to meet the president of McDermott Construction.” He thrust the small person in front of him, but did not loosen his hold. “This is Casey McDermott, my boss."

  "You're the boss?” The man snorted in disbelief. “Why ... you're nothing but a sassy kid!” He shoved his fingers through his thick wind-blown hair, feeling his raging temper escape his iron control. “How could my company have gotten tangled up with a lame-brained outfit like this?"

  "I'm gonna kill him, Mike. Let me go,” seethed Casey in her low froggy voice. She pulled with all her might against the large hands that held her easily.

  Again Mike laughed, cautioning the man with an upraised brow. “I don't know what you said, but I haven't seen my boss this angry in years, and I've known Casey all my life. You see,” he explained, his eyes twinkling, “this little person is my big sister and she's spent most of her life around construction. She's got a degree in structural engineering too,” he added proudly as he pulled the thick stocking cap from his sister's head, revealing a mass of long fiery hair that tumbled down around her shoulders in a flame cloud. “See? She's a woman.” He hugged Casey warmly. “And real smart for her size."

  "Oh, no!” Shawn's exclamation came out in a hoarse whisper. Shock paled his tanned craggy features and momentarily replaced his fury.

  "Oh yes!” interjected Mike. “My sister is a competent businesswoman, and if you'll give her half a chance, she'll be able to straighten out this misunderstanding in short order."

  He stood like a rock beside her. His six feet two inch frame dwarfed by a full twelve inches his sister's slender form camouflaged beneath layers of heavy work clothes. The two were united, waiting for the stranger's next move.

  Shawn took a deep breath and leveled a direct visual arrow at Casey. “Let's try this one more time, shall we?” He quickly unrolled the blueprints of a house and pointed in a cutting gesture to the roof section. “You see?” He tapped the fluttering sheet of paper emphatically. “These plans call for the installation to be on the front of the roof and not on the back slope."

  Casey glanced at the top of the plans, then gave Shawn a withering stare that would have cowed a lesser man. “You've got the wrong specs, Mr. O'Brien.” Her voice was flat with disgust.

  "Oh, no, you don't, Ms. McDermott,” he shot back. “The plans say 333l Bluebell Lane and that's the number of this corner dwelling."

  Without saying another word, Casey marched toward the street and pointed to the cross-sign located there. “Can you read, Mr. O'Brien? Or has your company excused that skill? A.E.I. should know better than to check up on an established and competent organization like ours. I repeat, McDermott's Construction doesn't make mistakes!"

  Shawn strode over to the street sign while Mike trailed behind, smiling merrily. “Bluegrass Drive!” His face took on the glow of a sunset.

  "The streets in this subdivision running north and south are labeled ‘drive'. The streets named �
��lane’ run east and west,” Casey explained impatiently. “Tomorrow we're scheduled to do the house in your specs, and the panels will be mounted as the plans indicate.” She stood with her booted feet spread wide in an indignant stance, her small gloved hands balled on her narrow waist. “Now ... what do you have to say to that, Mr. O'Brien?"

  "I say ‘pass the salt.’ I've got a lot of words to eat.” Shawn grinned sheepishly, looking rather like an errant boy. “I made a big mistake ... and I apologize."

  He extended his hand to her as his lips curved into a wide smile. His onyx eyes sparked with some unshared delight when he surveyed her smooth flushed skin and pleasing features. He paid close attention to her large emerald eyes and her pert little nose that was still tipped skyward in disdain. His vision narrowed perceptively when he caught the pout of her untouched, but naturally pink, full mouth.

  "Friends?” he murmured softly, taking her hand between his two larger ones.

  Even though Casey was still bridling at his first churlish words and harsh manner, her feminine senses were equally aware of Shawn O'Brien, the man. He was a bit shorter than her brother, muscularly built with very powerful hands and the neck and shoulders of an athlete. Her computer-like brain stored information at a rapid clip.

  She looked at his face, rugged and tanned, and his brazen black eyes fringed with a thick layer of dark lashes. His mouth was firm, the lower lip hinted at his volatile and perhaps, sensual nature. Those snapping, coal eyes were enhanced further by expressive, straight brows. Above, a broad intelligent forehead was topped by luxuriant midnight curls. One ringlet had been blown forward and gave his features a more boyish allusion than the rest of his face revealed.

  He must be in his late-thirties, Casey guessed, momentarily caught in her visual examination, allowing her temper to cool to manageable proportions. Her jade eyes locked with Shawn's in a futile attempt to thwart his practiced charm. What he had in mind, she had an ironclad rule against—fraternizing with business associates. Then she cleared her throat and pulled her hand from his firm hold.

  "Apology accepted, Mr. O'Brien."

  "Call me Shawn.” His voice was a velvet request. “And incidentally, I own AEI, lock, stock, and barrel."

  "Then I owe you an apology too.” She had no idea how sensuous her low wispy voice sounded. “I really have a difficult time holding my temper...” She raised her flashing eyes to spear him with a challenging dare, then smiled impishly. “When I know I'm right!"

  Shawn worked to control his reeling senses. Try as he might to ignore his emotions, he had to admit to himself that he was attracted to this pint-sized, flaming-haired hellion. Where did she get all her spunk? he wondered, still somewhat shocked by the quick change of identity from sassy little girl to vibrant contrary woman.

  "You don't scare easy, do you?"

  Before Casey could take up Shawn's challenge, Mike stepped between them, putting his arms across their shoulders. “Now isn't it just grand that this little misunderstanding has been straightened out?” He smiled brightly, eager to keep the two off another collision course because he had seen each of them visually measuring the other. “Why don't we go back to the office for some coffee? I don't think St. Louis has had such a cold spell in ten years."

  "I doubt if Shawn has the time, Mike,” contradicted Casey. “He must have a million things to do."

  "On the contrary, Casey—you don't mind if I call you Casey, do you?” He smiled warmly when he noted the quick shake of her head that made her wind-blown titan hair catch sunbeams in its net of curls. “I've come into St. Louis specifically to meet you. Now that I've taken over AEI, I want to make sure our contractors are still happy with their original agreements,” he explained. “I also need to be assured that I want to continue working with the firms already on line.

  "I just flew in from Memphis after the unsavory business of breaking relations with the company down there.” He grimaced. “What a mess! Sloppy installations ruined landscaping from stampeding incompetents, and some very angry clients. And I don't blame them.” He jammed his fists into his coat pockets. “That kind of irresponsible work is reason, in large part, why AEI had been going downhill before I assumed control. I'm determined to stop it.” His chin lifted, his dark eyes snapped with energy. “I want only the best ... and I mean to have it!"

  Casey tensed as she watched what she silently termed Shawn's soapbox tirade. “Is that a threat, Mr. O'Brien?” Her voice was deceptively soft and level, her senses coiled, waiting for his answer. But she was put completely off balance when he once again aimed a dazzling smile in her direction.

  "Not at all, Ms. McDermott.” He answered smoothly, using the same formal address. “Just because we got off on the wrong foot—because of my error, I hasten to add, due no doubt to my bad experience in Memphis—that doesn't infer that your company isn't the best in this area."

  "Well, shall we go then?” interrupted Mike, blowing on his hands to show how cold he was, standing in the chill wind.

  "Okay.” But Casey wished she didn't have to spend more time with the disconcerting Mr. O'Brien. “We'll go back to the office and have our discussion. But I can tell you now,” she said, boldly glaring at Shawn. “We can do it all ... and we do it right!"

  "I'll bet you can, too,” Shawn observed beneath his breath after Mike hurried to put the ladder on the truck.

  "I beg your pardon!” Had she been less rattled, she might have seen the humor in her opposing emotions—vulnerable and wary.

  "I said, I'll follow you.” He answered as if he were repeating himself but an arrogantly raised brow told her otherwise.

  "Come on,” ordered Mike on his return. His words created puffs of white vapor in the air. “Let's get going."

  He grabbed Casey's arm and ran with her to the heavy-duty truck parked on the side street. He'd seen the signs of another argument brewing and he wanted to stop it, though it might have made for interesting listening. He suspected that his pint-sized, stubborn sister had finally crossed swords with someone whose temper matched her own. But it was too darn cold to find out!

  Shawn jogged effortlessly to a sleek black sports car parked behind the truck. When he opened the door, he called in a distinctly provocative voice. “This is rented and a little more racy than its driver."

  "I doubt that!” Casey shot back, laughing, raising an arrogant brow of her own as she climbed up into the cab of the red truck. His easy laughter at her retort signaled with unerring accuracy that the gauntlet had been thrown down; the lines of battle had been drawn. And she simultaneously rose to his challenge and wavered apprehensively at the possible repercussions.

  Mike accelerated along the highway, making sure Shawn was following. Then he looked over at his sister, taking in with one swift glance, the determination of her profile. “He likes you,” he teased softly.

  "Well, the feeling certainly isn't mutual!” she huffed, her eyes flashing emerald sparks. “Of all the misinformed human beings I've met, Mr. Shawn O'Brien tops the list.” Her censure gained momentum. “The gall of that man! Without even listening, he tells us we're wrong ... and that I should be fired! Humph!"

  "I think the lady doth protest too much,” her brother mocked. He reached over and patted her knee. “Come on, Sis, admit it. The guy turned you on."

  "He did not!” Her face turned scarlet before she had any inkling she was going to blush. “He's ... he's arrogant. Besides, he'll only be here for a day or two.” Agitated, she stuffed her carrot top curls back under her knitted cap. “I'll be civil to him for the sake of our business and that's all. He better not have any other ideas in his handsome head."

  Mike chortled happily. “So! He did get to you."

  "Mich-ael!"

  "Well, you just said he was handsome, Casey."

  "Lord, Mike, will you stop?” But she could feel a little smile tug at the corners of her pink mouth. “Any woman with eyes in her head would see that he's attractive but that doesn't mean I like him."

  "Whatev
er you say, Sis,” he countered in a teasing voice. “Whatever you say."

  He pulled the truck into the parking lot, waiting to open his door until Shawn had parked his car beside them. Together, the three walked into the office, each breathing deeply of the warm interior, fragrant with the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee.

  "Hi, you guys.” The woman was a slightly younger version of Casey. “Did you get the job finished already? Coffee's on.” Her alert eyes rested for a moment on the new face in the crowd. “I don't think we've met,” she said pleasantly, smiling up at Shawn's tall presence.

  "I believe we talked on the phone earlier,” said Shawn, silently noting the familial similarity.

  Mike bent over to plant a warm brotherly kiss on the woman's cheek. “Hi, love. I'd like you to meet Shawn O'Brien, the new owner of AEI.” He turned to Shawn. “And I'd like you to meet my middle sister, Maureen Malone, wife of John over there acting like he's working, and mother of six-year-old Katie, the light of her Uncle Mike's eye. Maureen is our office manager,” he explained further. “Generally speaking, she tells us all where to go!” He laughed at his own joke.

  Shawn favored her with a warm smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Maureen.” Then he walked past Mike and Casey to shake hands with her husband. “John. May I say you have a beautiful wife?"

  "You may.” John sent a loving smile toward his attractive spouse. “And she's intelligent too,” he added, bringing his six feet plus frame upright and chuckling softly. “After all, she married me!” He easily dodged a wadded paper missile.

  Shawn walked leisurely around the office and stopped finally at the waist-high divider near Casey. Their bodies almost touched when he too leaned against the sturdy partition. He gazed at Casey as he casually folded his arms across his chest. “Are the four of you the entire McDermott Company?"

  "No,” Casey replied, trying to keep her voice level. “We have two more men who work in the warehouse and help with larger jobs—John's brother and our cousin."