Rikki had rented her townhouse in Bar Harbor to the Foundation’s intern while she traveled with the exhibit. Silas had insisted she stay with the artwork for the entire run of the show. They’d scheduled displays from Bangor to Baltimore over the summer and fall. It made sense for her to find a more convenient location to call home for the next four months. And that was right here in Granite Pointe.
The computer program finally opened and Rikki had just hunched over the keyboard to start working when her phone rang. Jenni’s name popped up on the display. She’d finally gotten around to calling her back.
“Hi Jenni. What took so long? The boss piling on work?”
“Yeah, that skank is a drill sergeant, but she’s out of the office for a few months. Should be a cakewalk this summer.”
Rikki enjoyed the easy camaraderie she shared with her assistant. Jenni was nearing forty—older than Rikki by almost fifteen years. The woman had worked for the foundation since she was twenty and was a loyal and dedicated employee. God forbid she’d ever leave. It would take someone shadowing Jenni for six months to learn half of what she knew. Including where the bodies were buried.
Rikki might be the head of the foundation, but Jenni was the neck. She truly controlled everything.
“Can you check on something for me? I need to know if we ever received an application from Sam Kerrigan, or Granite Pointe High School.”
“Hmm, I don’t recognize the name. I don’t remember getting any paperwork from them.”
“I’ve met him, and he insists he emailed completed applications on three different occasions. But it might have been during the transition to the new website.”
“Well, hell, I’ll never find it then.”
“Can you look, please? Check your phone records, too. Because he said he called several times to follow up.”
“Now, Rikki. You know if people call, you get the message if you can’t answer the phone personally. I’m almost insulted that you’d think I’m screening your calls.”
“Oh, my God, Jenni Wadlowe. You did not just scold me. I wasn’t ragging on you.”
“I know. Maybe the new intern didn’t give you the messages. She must have potatoes between her ears instead of brains. She is driving me bat-shit crazy with her incessant questions.”
Rikki smiled at the familiar complaint. “That’s what interns do and you know it.”
Jenni heaved a disgusted breath, then chuckled. “Yeah, but usually you’re the one fielding the dumbest questions. You’re much better at it than I am. Must be from years of dealing with Silas.”
“It’s likely. You’ll have to dig deeper for some patience.” Rikki took a sip of her soda and carefully replaced the glass on the coaster.
“Or I could give her your cell phone number.”
“Don’t you dare! I’m going to enjoy freedom while I can. Will you check on Sam Kerrigan?”
“Tomorrow, once I get into the office. You know it’s eight-thirty, don’t you? As in PM?”
She glanced at the time display on the computer, surprised to see it was late. “Shit. Time got away from me again. I’m sorry to bother you at home.”
“I don’t mind. I’m only watching reality television. These bitches all living in one house in a hot climate are getting annoying. They don’t have a clue about conflict resolution. They need to put me in that house. I’d show them how to be a truly bad girl.”
Rikki laughed. She’d spent plenty of evenings drinking wine and watching bad TV at Jenni’s house to know exactly how well the woman would fit in.
Jenni snorted. “I’ll check on Sam tomorrow and let you know. Go eat something. I bet you’ve forgotten to eat again today. Am I right?”
“Yes, Mom.”
Rikki’s stomach rumbled as she hung up. Shutting down the computer without scrolling through the pictures that had uploaded, she wandered into the kitchen. She was hungry, but her craving went beyond a desire for mere food. Hunched over and staring into the refrigerator, all she really saw were bright eyes, a laughing smile, and dimples she could fall in lust with.
Chapter 4
“For guds skull, Marguerite! Why can’t you keep this straight?”
Good Lord! How had she managed to make Silas angry enough to yell at her in Swedish? Her mind raced frantically over the contents of her email to him this morning. She’d sent him the floor plan of the museum, along with a diagram of hanging locations and her written plan for the position of each piece of the collection. It wasn’t any different than any other plan she’d sent him.
She hated being micro-managed. “I’m sorry, Grandfather. I’m not sure what I have out of order.”
“I sent you last week a new arrangement. Must I do everything for you?”
“You sent me an email last week? I never got one from you about this.” She was going to have to find a new Internet provider. The current one was simply not doing the job.
“Inte! No! I sent a drawing by courier.”
“To my office? Jenni didn’t mention it. Are you sure it arrived?”
“I received the delivery receipt from the messenger service.” Rikki heard shuffling noises in the background. Silas was digging through the pyramid of paper adorning his desk that he never seemed to conquer. “Ah, here it is. Belinda Smeltz signed for it.”
“We don’t have a Belinda at the foundation. Could it be Bianca Smalls?”
“It could be. Who the hell is she?”
“She’s the intern you hired from the Maine College of Art. The one I told you was too inexperienced when I encouraged you to hire the other candidate with the management background from the university in Augusta.”
“Pooh. That girl, Bianca, has talent.”
“But she has no business sense, Grandfather. Jenni is having a hard time focusing her on running the office. It’s what she’s there to do. I’ll ask them to scan your drawing and email it to me.” Rikki rolled her head side-to-side. That’s what Silas should have done in the first place. He had two assistants of his own who could have handled the task for him, if only he trusted them. Silas had always been a world-class control freak.
“Do so. I’ll be in Baltimore in six weeks for the opening. I hope to find everything set up according to my will.”
Rikki worked to keep the agitation out of her voice. “I haven’t let you down yet, have I?”
“Bra. Okey dokey. Marguerite, I wanted to ask you if you have heard from your good-for-nothing brother? I summoned him yesterday and he has not arrived yet.”
Her stupid brother had ignored Silas and now she was going to bear the heat of it. Briefly considering the option of ratting Gunnar out, she decided against it. He was her brother, and usually on her side. “I haven’t spoken to him today.” A minor lie when she used the qualifier. Silas hated liars more than he hated digital photography.
“If you hear from him today make him call me. We have things to discuss.”
Oh, crap! The emphasis Silas put on “today” definitely highlighted his suspicion that she’d just told him a whopper. Rikki couldn’t remember anything worse than her grandfather’s disappointment when he’d caught her in a lie. Except maybe his crooked index finger shaking in her face while he scolded her. Heat flared in her cheeks.
She disconnected with Silas, glanced at her watch, and dialed the foundation’s number. Four rings. Five. It should never take this long to answer the phone. Rikki was already halfway to annoyed when the college intern finally picked up on the sixth ring. She’d remember this come evaluation time.
“Sims Foundation. How may I direct your call?”
“Bianca, it’s Rikki. Is Jenni there?”
“She’s on the phone with the webmaster. Is there something I can help you with?”
Good. Jenni must be working on the problem with Sam’s application. Hopefully, there’d be good news when she met him for drinks. “Silas sent over drawings last week. Your signature is on the confirmation receipt. Do you remember getting them?”
“I don�
�t think so.”
“From Speedy Delivery Service? Think, Bianca. This is important. Silas was all over me today. He’s changed the layout of the exhibit.”
“Speedy Delivery. That’s funny. I don’t remember seeing Mr. McFeely in the office last week.”
Rikki suppressed the urge to scream. Like she’d never heard that before. “Bianca, find that document and scan it over to me, pronto. This isn’t a request.”
She disliked delivering orders to her staff. Normally she’d have asked politely, knowing most employees responded better to an appeal than a demand. Unfortunately, she was out of time and patience today. The command in her tone would have irritated her, as it had Bianca, judging by the intern’s terse tone. Fuming, Rikki gazed out the window and texted Jenni to alert her to the urgent need for the drawing. Just for good measure.
She busied herself reviewing the fifty new emails received since she’d last logged on, efficiently sorting industry news and foundation business from personal invitations and sales flyers. She scrolled to the bottom of those messages and carefully clicked unsubscribe, as she did each time she received one.
A new message from Jenni, with an attachment, came in as soon as she clicked the link for the last email in her inbox. The woman deserved a big fat kiss and a bigger raise. Rikki would start the paperwork for a review today and hope Silas would approve the request by the end of summer. Firing off a quick thank-you message to her assistant, she downloaded and printed the new schematic. Shoving it into her briefcase, she snatched her car keys from the crystal dish on her desk. First stop, the Maritime Museum.
* * * *
Two hours later, Rikki plopped down in the middle of the floor at the museum and dropped her head into her hands.
Silas’s new layout would require the museum staff to move walls. Even if they could accommodate the changes, a small, non-profit organization like this museum couldn’t afford the extra expense, even with the bump in revenues from the sale of exhibit tickets. Which meant the foundation would have to spring for it. A sigh built up from her toes as she pulled her knees to her chest and swept a glance around the central room, attempting to calculate how much raw material she’d need to get it accomplished the way her cantankerous grandfather wanted it done.
For an instant, she considered trying to reason with Silas, to persuade him the original layout was sufficient. She rejected the idea with a rueful laugh. She’d have a better chance convincing a hurricane to head out to sea instead of pounding the shoreline. She pulled out her notebook and began jotting down thoughts. She was always more in control when she had a list. At least, that’s what she chose to believe.
This was going to be a major undertaking. By her estimation, they’d need several temporary walls. The flats themselves wouldn’t be difficult to manufacture, but the project would require hiring a contractor or handyman. Finding ways to anchor them in place, however, might prove to be a nightmare. Maybe she could figure out a way to make them portable enough to transport for future showings. As sure as the sun would come up tomorrow, Silas would insist on using the same layout at each museum. These changes were going to inflate transportation costs. Her budget was quickly heading into the red.
In spite of her list building, she was still reeling and overwhelmed when her cell phone rang fifteen minutes later.
“Hi. It’s Sam Kerrigan.”
Her worries about her budget melted with the smooth sound of his voice. “Sam. What’s going on?”
“Did you forget we’re meeting at Red’s tonight?”
“Nope, I’ll be there at five, like we agreed.”
“It’s five-thirty.” Sam’s chuckle was sexy, even on the phone.
Rikki peered at her watch, shocked by how long she’d been sitting there. Good thing the museum director had given her a key of her own and the security code for the alarm system. “Oh, shit! Oh, Jesus, Sam, I’m sorry. Something came up at the museum and I lost track of time. There have been some changes to the layout, and it looks like I’ll have to build display panels. I hadn’t counted on that and it’s thrown me into a tizzy. I’m really sorry. Can we reschedule?”
“I’ll bring dinner to you. Maybe I can help you figure out the changes. I’m a decent hand with a hammer.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.” But, oh, God, it would be wonderful. Rikki’s stomach growled its agreement.
“You didn’t ask. I offered. What do you want for dinner? Red’s has great burgers.”
“It’s pub food, right? What about fish and chips?”
“You can’t beat theirs with a stick. It’s wicked good. I’ll order and see you in fifteen minutes.”
* * * *
True to his word, fifteen minutes later Sam knocked on the museum’s glass front entrance. Rikki turned the lock to let him in. He carried a large white plastic bag emblazoned with the logo of a local pub. The aroma of breaded fish and French fries teased her nose as she accepted the bag. Sam had also brought a six-pack of beer from a local microbrewery and a piece of red-and-white checked material.
Rikki grinned as she relocked the front door. “I’d have settled for a diet soda. But I’ve heard this beer is amazing.”
“It is. Red gave me one of his tablecloths so we could turn this into a real picnic. Where should I spread it out?”
Rikki gestured toward where her notebook and diagrams lay on the floor. “I guess this is as good as any other place.”
Sam spread the festive cloth on the floor, then bent to straighten the corners. Rikki held her breath at the sight of worn, comfortable-looking jeans that molded his thighs and backside. He was a lean, lengthy drink of water for a woman parched by lack of male companionship.
It had been difficult to establish a relationship when her job required her to travel as much as she did. Oh, sure, she’d gotten to see all the best tourist locales in the world, but at this moment, none of them compared to the sight of Sam’s butt. When he straightened and extended an inviting hand to her, irresistible creases bracketed his smile. Rikki chewed the inside of her cheek to keep from running her tongue over her lips. Instead, she walked over, toed off her tennis shoes, and settled herself on a corner of the cloth opposite him.
Reaching into the bag in the middle, she pulled out the delicious smelling food. Sam used a bottle opener on his keychain to wrench the caps off two bottles of beer. He handed one to her, then clinked his against the one she held and saluted her. He took a long drink, his eyes closed. Rikki sipped hers to distract her from the sensuous movement of his throat as he swallowed.
Sam shifted, making himself comfortable, and reached for the burger she’d unwrapped for him. Taking a hearty bite, he closed his eyes, then smiled. “I haven’t eaten since the first lunch shift at school at eleven. Didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
How hungry he was? A deep greedy ache rumbled in the pit of Rikki’s belly, but it wasn’t for food. When his eyes snapped open and he pinned her with a heated gaze, she ducked her head to open the lid on her fish and chips. “Smells great. I’m almost regretting my choice. But you don’t grow up in Maine without developing a strong liking for Atlantic Ocean fish and lobster.”
“You grew up in Maine?”
“Yes. Born in Bangor. I’ve lived in Bar Harbor my whole life.”
“That’s a long way from anything.”
“There are times it seems like it’s the end of the universe, but I like it there. The shoreline is amazing.” She missed her home for a brief moment. Six months was a long time to be away. “I picked Granite Pointe as my base while traveling with the exhibit because of the harbor. That and the proximity to Logan airport. What about you?”
“I’ve lived here my entire life. It’s a great community. Close enough to Boston to be considered cosmopolitan, yet far enough away to maintain a small town ambiance.”
“You’ve never left?”
“Nope,” Sam replied, a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. “Except for college, I never wanted to. My family, my mom
and dad, are here. I have a job I love. Two jobs, really. Everything I want is here.”
“Do you have children?” Nice, Rikki. Did you really want to play a little game of go fish? She held her breath, waiting for an answer. After all, he was a small town man—why wouldn’t he have a wife and kids?
His smile widened to a killer grin. “Yep. Four hundred of them.”
Chapter 5
Rikki’s chin dropped and her eyebrows shot toward her hairline. “Four hundred?” she squeaked.
Her expression was priceless. He didn’t get to play that joke on a woman very often. Especially when seated across from one as stunning as Rikki Salerno. Sam took a slow drink of his beer, anticipating a light bulb flaring to life above Rikki’s head once she figured out he was talking about his students. He didn’t have to wait long.
Understanding, then humor, flickered in her eyes. “Good Lord, that has to be expensive. How do you plan to pay for college for all those kids on a teacher’s salary?”
“Well, I supplement my income by moonlighting as a drive-thru culinary artist.”
“Ah, the second job you mentioned.” Her lush lips quirked up as though she struggled to contain laughter. A battle she didn’t win. She hid her mouth behind the back of her hand but a charming chuckle escaped. The sight of her fingers curled into her palm sparked his interest, desire slamming into his gut. His imagination flared with a vision of her fist snug around him. Lighthearted banter flowed like silk between them, easy, fluid. They could be friends…and more. If he leaned forward just six inches, he could capture her laugh with his mouth.
Instead, he filed his errant thoughts away and relaxed back on his elbows. Stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles, he managed to disguise the pressure from his body’s reaction. God, this too-tight-jeans-thing was turning into a recurring issue whenever she was near.
The laughter she’d tried so hard to trap inside leaked out. The musical chuckle curled around his brain like a shot of twelve-year-old Scotch, heady, intoxicating. Sam trained his eyes on her hands as she picked up the remnants of their picnic, neatly tucking the trash back into the white paper sack. He imagined her raking her fingernails down his back to his—
Exposed to Passion (Five Senses series Book 3) Page 4