Tough Enough to Tango

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by Barbara Barrett




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Tough Enough to Tango

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  A word about the author...

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  In a hoarse whisper, she breathed, “I’ve got to know.”

  His eyes narrowed into a blur of gray curiosity. “Know?”

  “What it’s like. Making love with you.”

  He stepped back. “I…uh, where did that come from?”

  She removed her hand from his arm. “Left field, I guess.”

  He eyed her, probably to figure out how to rebuff her advances gently. But she’d put herself so far out there that anything he said or did other than drag her off to bed would be a rejection. Why had she set herself up like this?

  Finally, he said, “That’s quite an offer.”

  Was he considering or stalling for time? If he was the least bit interested, she had to push him over the brink. As if she’d always known what she had to do next, she moved into him, pulled his face to hers and kissed him. Out of pure improvisation, she added tongue.

  Ned willingly participated, slid his tongue along hers, augmented her moves as they went. Suddenly, he pulled back, “You sure about this?”

  One last chance to change her mind. “Yes, I’m sure. But what about you? You’ve accused me of running away from confrontations. Said I wasn’t tough enough to tango. I’m ready to prove you wrong.”

  He took her hand in his, rubbed his thumb against her palm. “Okay, then. Let the dance begin.”

  Tough Enough

  to Tango

  by

  Barbara Barrett

  Sullivan’s Creek Series

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Tough Enough to Tango

  COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Barbara Kroon

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Champagne Rose Edition, 2015

  Print ISBN 978-1-62830-795-5

  Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-796-2

  Sullivan’s Creek Series

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  Tough Enough to Tango features a father, Tim Harriman, who is so afraid of losing another child to an on-the-job accident he holds back the daughter who wants nothing more than to work alongside him in their general contracting business.

  Like Tim, my own father, Richard Youngman, was in construction. Where Tim is bellicose and ambitious, my dad was more soft-spoken, and though he may have had aspirations of leading his own company someday, he spent his work life reporting to others. But my dad believed in me, encouraged me to excel in my schoolwork and follow my ambitions. He wasn’t the inspiration for Tim, but as a carpenter and later as a painter, he first introduced me to the world of residential construction. For that, I dedicate part of this book to him.

  When I first met my husband, Veryl, he planned to become an architect. Though that didn’t happen, he did design our last two homes, and I used what I learned from him as background for the first book in the Sullivan’s Creek Series, Saved by the Salsa. But it has been this second book, which focuses on the building of Sullivan’s Creek, where his knowledge and assistance has been invaluable. The man even went so far as to provide me with my own living laboratory in the last few years as we built our new home. I was able to personally experience the excavation, laying of the foundation, framing, and all the other phases of homebuilding that brought our new home to fruition.

  For all his help and encouragement, love and support, I dedicate the rest of this book to him.

  Chapter One

  Shae Harriman swallowed, lifted her chin a fraction of an inch, and pasted on her best sales smile as she approached the meeting of a lifetime. The meeting for which she’d been pleading. The meeting that had her so scared she couldn’t finish a full breath because the desired result was so critical. “Good morning,” was on her lips as she marched through the door to the conference room, but the words jammed in her mouth when she took in the room’s occupants. Though three people rose, a woman and two men, the only person she saw was the tall entertainment god who’d dominated the news lately.

  What was he doing here? Their client was supposed to be in a hospital somewhere following a collapse during a recent performance. He didn’t look sick. In fact, in that tan jacket, crisp white shirt, and form-fitting black jeans, he looked mighty healthy. Mighty.

  Whatever she’d been about to say fled her thoughts as Shae’s brain momentarily shut down. Her feet seemed cemented to the floor.

  The trio moved toward her and her companion. The petite blonde extended her hand. “Lacey Rogers, Ms. Harriman. I’m one of the architects who drew up the design concept for Sullivan’s Creek. Thank you for agreeing to meet today and your willingness to come here to this rather unconventional location. We wanted to keep our discussion private.”

  Probably to avoid the media, who’d been in full pursuit since Bonneville’s breakdown.

  Shae returned the handshake, remembering to keep a firm grip.

  A guy whose dirty blond hair appeared to have been combed with a hand mixer stuck out his hand next. “I’m Mike Woodley, and this is Ned Collier, your client. Ned’s had some minor problems with his throat recently and is under doctors’ orders not to use his voice, so I’ll be doing his talking today. I’m Ned’s manager.”

  She greeted Woodley then grasped the entertainer’s proffered hand, which exuded a delicious warmth, like climbing under the covers on a cold winter night. Better sense reminded her to let go about two nanoseconds beyond what would have been considered appropriate. “Good morning, Mr. Collier, or should I call you Jake, since your fans know you as Jake Bonneville? I’m sorry to hear about your throat but hope your presence here means you’re doing better.” Lame, Shae. Very lame. Could she sound more rattled?

  His gray eyes studied her, apparently gauging her. His smile remained polite but uncommitted. For reasons that eluded her, she wanted to see his mouth curve up more.

  “I see you’ve met Janice, Ned’s mother.” Lacey nodded toward the gallery owner, who’d led them to this conference room of sorts and now lingered in a corner. “She was kind enough to let us use h
er place, as long as we could do it today, because she’s holding classes in here the rest of the week.”

  That explained the hurried nature of this meeting as well as the unique location. Shae gave herself a few seconds to study the room while she recovered from the shock of seeing the megastar. Pungent smells of paint and turpentine filled her nostrils. Half-filled bookshelves lined one wall and several folded up easels were stacked along the facing wall.

  She could do this, if Ned Collier would just stop gazing her way. She introduced Dave Hale, her superintendent, after which all but the mother took their seats. Janice Collier hugged one of the walls and remained in the background. Each of five places had been set up with a notepad, ballpoint pen, and glass of water. A brown carafe graced the middle of the table.

  Concentrate on your notebook. Don’t stare at him. But she couldn’t help herself. How was she supposed to focus on their proposal with this incredible male specimen so close? She gripped her hands to keep from touching her neck to assure the heat streaming through her insides hadn’t seeped through her pores. Was his celebrity making her react like this? Surely it wasn’t his overpowering presence? She admired attractive men as much as any other woman, but her insides rarely came to life as they were now.

  Mike began the meeting. “We understand your father has been dealing with some serious medical problems lately.”

  Her cue. Take your eyes off the superstar. Smile. Look like you know what you’re doing. She folded her hands. “My dad recently experienced a fairly severe attack of angina and was diagnosed with coronary heart disease. They were able to stabilize him without surgery, but his doctor has recommended a treatment plan, which, besides medication, dietary changes, and exercise, also calls for absolute, stress-free rest.”

  Not enough to satisfy Woodley. “Ned’s been working with your father for months and says he’s quite the guy. Energetic, dedicated, and very knowledgeable about construction.”

  She nodded. “He’s all that. Plus, he’s a workaholic. Probably what caused his current condition.”

  Mike cleared his throat. “His condition, yes. That’s what we’d like to discuss. We’re all rooting for his quick recovery. But if we read between the lines of your comments, Shae, that doesn’t sound too likely.”

  She knew exactly where he was headed, but she wouldn’t make it easy for him. “At this point, we really don’t know how long it will take him to get back on his feet.”

  Mike exchanged a look with Ned and Lacey. “That concerns us. We’re already into spring and ready to go into the construction phase of Sullivan’s Creek, but it sounds like we may be without our key player.”

  “My dad’s built up a solid business over the years, Mike.” She remembered it was Ned who was actually in charge, so she redirected her gaze toward him, though she had to step up her concentration. “He’s a great leader, but he’s also put together an organization that can function without him for the short term.”

  Dave leaned forward, like he was about to testify before the grand jury. “We’re in constant contact with him.”

  “So he’ll still call the shots?” Mike asked.

  Shae sipped some water before she replied. “My father’s doctors have told him to keep the tension in his life to a minimum. But he’ll be a telephone call away for consultation as needed.” This seemed to be the moment to reveal her own role during her father’s recovery period. “My dad has named me temporary head of the company.”

  Ned, Mike, and Lacey jerked in unison.

  “You?” Mike set his pen on the table. “No offense, Shae, but you seem to have come out of nowhere. Neither Ned nor Lacey has ever worked with you during the early phases of this project. What are your qualifications?”

  Shae unclasped her hands and brought them to her lap as inconspicuously as she could. “I have a degree in civil engineering and construction management and, as Two Rivers’ office manager the past five years, I’m thoroughly familiar with all the company’s projects.” Pause. The last part wasn’t quite accurate since her dad kept her on the sidelines but for today, close enough.

  Ned jotted something on his notepad and passed it to his buddy. Mike glanced at it briefly, then asked, “What about supervisory experience?”

  Dave started to reply for her, but Shae answered for herself. “I’m no stranger to the crews.” If one counted the times crewmembers visited the office. “Plus,” she patted Dave’s forearm, “we’re fortunate to have Dave. As superintendent, he probably knows the crew and subs better than my father.”

  “I have every confidence in Shae,” Dave added, “but I’m there whenever she needs me.”

  Mike didn’t respond to either statement. Instead, he fingered the document he’d pulled from his folder. “Given your dad’s likely absence for some time and the size of this project, we felt it necessary to reexamine the provisions of our contract with your company.”

  She and Dave had discussed this contingency, and she was prepared to respond. Before she could say anything, Woodley continued. “Ned is making a huge financial commitment at a time when other developers are waiting to see which way the wind blows in the current economy. With your dad being out of the picture indefinitely, to protect his investment, Ned wants more direct involvement throughout the process.”

  Shae looked at her notes to avoid giving away her surprise. They hadn’t anticipated their client would go this far. Her mind raced as she framed a counterproposal, something to defuse the ridiculous concession Ned Collier and his pal sought. “We’ll send you status reports as frequently as needed.”

  “Not good enough. Ned wants the project manager to report to him.”

  Dave came out of his chair before she had a chance to quash the demand. “That’s not possible. The project manager is on the general contractor’s staff.”

  Easy, Dave. You’re the one who’s supposed to keep me under control. She struggled to maintain an even tone. “Dave’s right. We understand your concern about your investment, but what you’ve proposed is highly irregular.”

  Mike tapped a finger on his notepad. “When the current contract was signed, your father assured Ned he’d be there for him twenty-four/seven. That’s no longer the case. At least for a while. A period no one apparently can define. You’re an unknown quantity, Shae. The alternative is for us to exercise our option to rescind the contract and find ourselves a new general contractor.”

  They were back in familiar territory. Not that she liked being here, but as office manager, she was the keeper of the contracts. Not the negotiator or the legal expert, but she was the one who built the milestone dates, cost projections, and payment schedule into her computer program. Unlike the demand for the project manager to report to Collier, this was a contingency for which she and Dave had prepared.

  “Changing contractors at this point wouldn’t be wise. Two Rivers Construction has already entered into contracts with subcontractors, which would have to be terminated. At a cost. We’ve also expended sizeable resources providing preliminary construction services. Payment would be due immediately upon termination of your contract with us, along with a penalty payment to compensate us for having put other potential clients aside in order to work with you. Most likely, there would be a delay in the construction start date while you found yourself a new general contractor.”

  Mike held up a hand. “Okay, okay, we get the picture. It’s obvious you’ve studied your options and come prepared to defend your position.”

  He glanced at Ned, apparently to seek further guidance, but his pal was otherwise engaged.

  Ned studied the pair from Two Rivers, Shae Harriman in particular. He liked the way her long auburn ponytail swung back and forth every time she spoke, although it screamed amateur. Might have been a better idea to pin it up for this meeting to appear more professional. And what was with that outfit? Blue jeans, although clean, blue chambray shirt, and work boots. Was it a costume to convince them she was one of the guys? Still, everything fit in all the right places.


  Those deep aquamarine eyes reminded him of the Pacific on a calm day. Certainly weren’t the eyes of a forceful leader who would bring in his project on time under budget. But they were hypnotic. Had to look away before he got caught up in them.

  So, the daughter was standing in for Tim Harriman. Though her lack of experience was definitely a detriment, it might just play into his plans.

  She appeared to sneak a peek at her superintendent, who had now returned to his seat after his outburst. “As for the project manager, I can’t let the position report to Ned. Perhaps we can work out some other equally satisfying arrangement?”

  Buying time. Not a bad tactic, although in the end, he needed for her to agree, because it was the only way he could manage his costs in light of his plunging revenues.

  Mike paused a moment, as if to consider her response, although Ned had told him not to push this point today. Just soften her up with the threat to rescind the contract. “Fair enough. But we didn’t throw it out there for mere discussion. We’re serious.” He closed his notebook. “That’s all the questions we have.”

  Ned caught her—Shae, he liked her name—as she tried to read him. Probably wondered why he’d called this meeting before he could speak for himself. Or what in hell had possessed him to tackle this crazy project.

  “Good,” she replied in response to Mike’s statement. But rather than appear ready to leave, she turned directly to him. “Now, tell us the status of your health, Ned.”

  All the table’s occupants fell silent. Dave Hale looked away. Mike and Lacey would probably consider her question insensitive. But her cheek impressed Ned.

  The Harriman woman continued, seemingly unaffected by their reactions. “We’ve discussed the impact of my father’s health on this project, but we haven’t addressed your situation, Ned. It, too, could become a liability to the project, if it persists. So there’s risk all around. Not just to you, but to us as well.”

  The lady was not only insightful, she also wasn’t afraid to go for the jugular. Maybe not very tactful, but she was a fighter. He liked that, as long as she didn’t fight him. But this wasn’t the time to find out. He jotted “wrap it up” on his notepad and passed it to Mike.

 

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