Shae opened the second closet, stuck her head in briefly, and just as fast withdrew it.
He couldn’t help himself. “What’s going on?”
“You just don’t get it, do you?”
Get it? What was there to get, other than the lady was obviously in some sort of snit. Even after he’d apologized. God, he’d agreed to Farley’s terms just to keep this project afloat, which turned his world upside down. Even though she wasn’t aware of what he’d done, his situation was much more world-shattering than whatever bothered her. “No, I guess I don’t. Enlighten me.”
Rather than shed light on her mood, though, she immediately morphed into her general contractor mode, returned to the front of the RV, ponytail swinging all the way. When she reached the banquette, she paused. “Nice vehicle. Thanks for the tour. I’m glad you’ll be more comfortable. But let’s get back to the schedule changes so we can resume this project.”
He approached, not yet willing to assume his developer role. “Fine. We’ll talk about the schedule in just a minute. But first, I want to know why you act like you can’t stand to be around me. I thought we shook on my apology?”
“You know everything, you tell me.” Her eyes blazed with blue-green fire.
He raised his palms in surrender. “I wouldn’t keep pushing you, if I knew.”
“Your decision to bring this fancy RV here is like saying to me, ‘See how much better I can do than that rundown trailer of yours? See how much better I can do than you.’”
If she’d slugged him in the gut, he couldn’t feel more sucker-punched. What on earth was she talking about?
“I know I’m nothing like the glamour girls usually around you. But to rub my face in that fact—”
“Rub your face?”
After a brief knock, Zoe Johansen stuck her head in. “There you are,” she said seeing Ned. “They told me I could find you here.”
Could her timing be worse? He needed to follow up on Shae’s strange comments, but he also didn’t want Shae anywhere near the woman who could so easily let it be known how close he’d come to bankruptcy.
“Uh, hi.” He turned back to Shae. “I need to take care of this, but then you and I have to talk.”
Shae blinked, like she couldn’t believe he’d dismissed her. She studied the other woman. “Sure. I couldn’t have made my point better.”
As soon as the banker made her way into the RV, Shae dashed out, slamming the door.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Zoe said.
Ned shrugged. Too late now. He’d catch up with Shae later and attempt to figure out what was on her mind. The woman had more moods than Mike had wardrobe. “My general contractor. The storm put us behind schedule, so we were working out new dates. What brings you all the way out here? You want to check if there’s an actual project?”
“Oh, I—the bank, never doubted that, Mr. Bonneville.”
“Just joking.”
She appeared to relax slightly. “Your financial situation seems to have improved with an influx of new revenue yesterday. I’m glad you were able to keep things going. For now, the bank is satisfied with the status of your equity stake.”
They’d certainly better be. He’d sold his soul to keep this project alive. But she didn’t need to know. No one did. “Glad to hear that. As I told you the other day, I just needed time for my finances to realign.”
She turned to leave. “Uh, yes. I’m glad it worked out. By the way, it’s beautiful out here. I’m intrigued to see how things develop.”
Ned followed her outside. Not like he was anxious for her to leave, although he was. It was bad enough Shae had seen her. He didn’t want anyone else to know who she was or why she was there. “It’s still pretty primitive, or I’d give you a tour.”
“Another time, perhaps.”
She made her way back to her car, a yellow sports number. A bit jaunty for a banker.
Only after she’d driven off, did he release the breath he’d held since he left the RV. Was this what he had to look forward to in the months ahead? His new best friend from the bank making surprise visits.
Chapter Fourteen
Shae stomped out of the RV ready to spit nails. Fortunately for her mouth, and anyone with the bad luck to be near her, the arrival of those supplies was still a few weeks away. Who was that woman? Why had she tracked Ned here to the site?
A blonde. Should have known. Hair color had to have come from a bottle, but then, it was probably the look Ned was accustomed to in L.A. Had he brought her back with him after his recent trip? Or had she followed him here because she couldn’t stand to be away from him?
Didn’t matter. The woman was here. Any hope something might still happen between herself and Ned totally disappeared with the other woman’s arrival.
While Dave was off with the troops, the trailer provided refuge. This was the first she’d been inside the vehicle since the morning after the storm. Her eyes took in the stacks of office supplies, boxes, and other clutter. Who would have thought just a few days ago this was almost the scene of what might have been a torrid night of passion?
She scrutinized her surroundings. Functional. Met their needs. But compared to today’s new kid on the block, it truly was a dump.
As if a magnetic field had ensnared her, she drifted to the side window, which gave her a direct view of the RV. Nothing really to see. What had she expected—the trailer rocking back and forth?
To her surprise, the woman emerged, in a hot pink pantsuit, no less. Who wore that kind of get-up to a construction site? Ned exited right behind her. They exchanged a few words, and then the woman pivoted and sashayed away. Parting so soon? Must’ve made plans to hook up later. In the distance, Shae spied a canary-colored convertible. Must belong to the hot pink glamour girl.
Shortly thereafter, a flash of yellow shot down the road toward town. Good riddance. Shae released her hands from the hammerlock with which she gripped them.
The best thing she could do for herself was keep her distance from Ned the rest of the day—and however long it took her to calm down. Now that he’d made his lack of interest in her known, she couldn’t afford to be around him at the risk she’d give away her feelings. She remained in the trailer the better part of the day and let Dave obtain Ned’s approval of the revised work schedule.
Around five, she called it a day. Dave and the crew had already left. She opened the trailer door to head out only to discover Ned there. “Oh, hi.”
“Talk about timing.” He glanced at her handbag and briefcase.
“I’m on my way out. Can whatever you’re here to talk about wait until tomorrow?”
“I need a ride.”
She angled her head. “Oh?”
“I was so intent on getting the rig here this morning, it totally escaped me I’d have to find another way back to town. Must’ve missed Dave, because the only vehicle still parked here is yours.”
“I, uh, lost track of time.”
“Works to my benefit, if you don’t mind a passenger?”
Had he totally missed her mood earlier in the day? Shae twisted around to assure the door had locked behind her while she bought time to figure out how to handle this. Couldn’t refuse his request for a ride and leave him out here on his own, tempting as the thought might be. But to share a confined space with him again unnerved her. “Okay, sure.” She thrust the load she carried into his chest. “Here, make yourself useful.”
She took off, left him in her wake.
He caught up with her. “You make all your clients lug around your office?”
“Cost of bumming a ride.”
“Yeah. Guess beggars can’t…you know.”
She opened the door of her SUV. He stuck her stuff on the backseat, then settled into the passenger seat.
Shae concentrated on the road, fearful what would come out of her mouth if she initiated conversation.
“Sorry about this morning.”
So, he hadn’t forgotten. Best to play
dumb. “What about this morning?”
“We didn’t finish the tour of the motor coach.”
Or maybe he had forgotten. “Oh. That. Guess there’ll be plenty of time in the weeks ahead for me to see the last three feet of the interior.”
“And the sarcasm is back. What’s the deal, Shae?”
Shouldn’t have opened her mouth. He had her dead to rights. Best to make light of it. “RV envy.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t you think we’d like a classier mobile office ourselves?”
He had the grace to shift position. “Uh—”
“Remember that bare bones estimate we agreed to in order to keep your contract?”
“Well, hell, Shae. Why didn’t you say so? There’s room in there for you, if you want. Dave can have the trailer to himself.”
He was being too considerate. But then, the RV hadn’t really been the problem. Just a convenient red herring to avoid having to delve into her deeper feelings. “A minute before you arrived, Dave and I said the last rites over the remains of your tent, wondered how you’d get by, and the next minute, you charged up with that monster RV.”
“So? We’re okay now?”
Please don’t make me go there. “Uh, sure. Once you tell me who that woman was.” Damn! The sentence just slipped out.
“Woman? Oh. Her. That was Zoe Johansen. My banker.”
She blinked. “Your banker? They make house calls? Why come all the way out here? There’s not much to see yet.”
“I told her about the same thing. Invited her back a few months down the road.”
His banker? A blonde in a notice-me pantsuit with a yellow sports car? Too ludicrous not to be true. Her hands slid down the steering wheel as her heartbeat slowed.
He slapped the dash. “You didn’t think… My God, Shae. That’s rich.”
“Rich? She wore a hot pink get-up to a construction site three days after a major storm left the place a near quagmire. All the bankers I know wear funereal black.”
“So you assumed she had to be some babe come for a booty call?”
“I didn’t assume anything. Other than suddenly my presence wasn’t needed or wanted when she showed up.”
He sank back in the seat and ran a hand through his hair. “I should’ve introduced you.”
“But anything to do with your finances is confidential, right?”
After a brief pause, he said, “Actually, I’m in better shape moneywise today than the day in the tent. That was my reason for going to the coast.” He turned his head to gaze out the window.
“You must be relieved.” As was she, if he wasn’t out there to visit some woman. But then, he hadn’t clarified his statement about her assumption. He’d brought up the banker instead.
“Hey! Wasn’t that our turn?”
She snapped out of her speculations. He was right. “Shoot. Oh, well, there’s another turnoff in just a mile or two.”
“Isn’t there a mom-and-pop diner along this route—Susie’s?”
She scanned the road until she spotted the blue and yellow neon sign for the famous eatery. “Right ahead. Why?”
“Turn in. I have a hankering for a tenderloin. You hungry?”
Hungry? When had she last eaten? “I, uh, guess so. Memories of their ill-fated business meeting a few weeks earlier flooded back. She couldn’t very well get out of eating with him now. Before she had time to consider the implications, she said, “But how ’bout we take our food to my place? Well, Dad’s home. I’m not much at housekeeping, so lower your expectations, but the kitchen is in pretty good shape.” Why had she done that? It made much better sense to grab a quick meal with him here in public than to be alone with him at her dad’s place.
As soon as they arrived at the Harriman house, she went to the kitchen, where she grabbed a few plates. Meanwhile, Ned checked out the first floor—living room, dining room, which she and her dad both used more as an office, bathroom, and bedroom. “So this is where you grew up,” he observed as he entered the kitchen. “Interesting place.”
“That’s what people say when they can’t think of anything nice to say about something.”
“A surprise, that’s all. I would’ve expected a more modern layout. Different furnishings. Did he even build this?”
She chuckled. “Ever heard of the cobbler’s children who had no shoes? All Dad’s money goes right back into the business.”
Ned seated himself at the kitchen table. “Have you lived here all these years?”
Shae bit into her sandwich and swallowed. “I had my own place since the first year out of college. I was on my way out of town when Dad was admitted to the hospital, so my previous digs had already been rented to someone else. I’m back here at the old homestead on a temporary basis. Slept on the davenport the first week, because I was sure I’d be off to Dallas any day.”
“How much longer will your dad be in rehab?”
“Is that your poorly veiled attempt to find out how much longer I’ll be in charge?”
He set down his cold drink. “Actually, I wondered what you’ll do when he’s back here. He won’t be able to return to work immediately, will he? Or will he work from home? Either way, that might prove, uh, problematic for you. Maybe cramp your style, if you’re used to living on your own?”
She angled her head. “Hadn’t considered that. It’s been all I can do to stay one day ahead of the crews…and you.”
“Guess I’ve made your life somewhat difficult. But you understand now why?”
She put her tenderloin aside. “Let me count the ways.” She held up a finger. “One, you have very little idea what a project manager does.”
He started to protest, but she cut him off, raised a second finger.
“Two, you have control issues. You want to call all the shots.” Third finger. “Three, you don’t trust my lack of experience, so you double-check everything I do.”
“Geez, you don’t have to—”
“Four, you may not want to admit it, but you get some kind of wicked kick out of hassling me.”
“That’s your imagination.”
She stared him down.
“Okay, I admit I get a certain amount of pleasure from seeing you torqued off. But not all the time. Like now. Despite all this talk about my hassling you, we’ve gotten along pretty well. Even after your outburst over using preformed walls for the foundations, you were willing to help me rectify my mistakes. But since that night in the trailer, you’ve held back.” He removed a pickle from his sandwich and placed it on the wrapper. “Want to talk?”
Certainly an open invitation, but the very last thing she wanted to do was tell him she felt rejected when he didn’t follow through on the sexual overtures that night. “I, uh…it’s just I have so much riding on your project, and I don’t always know how to deal with your, uh, need for such involvement. I should stand up to you even more than I have, but I’m…” Here was the tricky part; she wanted to articulate her thoughts, but she didn’t want to offend him—he could still break the contract—or let him get too close to her actual feelings, whatever those were. “I’m, uh, not that good with people things. I’m an engineer. I deal in facts and numbers.”
He gazed directly in her eyes. “I’d say you’ve stood up to me pretty well.”
“Thanks, but the longer we work together, the better I get to know you. Like a friend.” Okay, more than a friend, but she didn’t want to go there. “I was able to renegotiate with some of our suppliers and subs, because I didn’t know them. But to tell a friend no or that he’s full of horse manure is different.”
“I’ve experienced similar dilemmas with some of the booking agents I’ve worked with over the years. That’s why I have Mike, my buffer, when I need to say no or ask for more money.’
“Maybe I should have Dave step in for me. Except, that wouldn’t be the job my dad gave me to do. I only have this one chance to make good.”
“Your dad’s that unforgiving?”
She sip
ped her cold drink while she figured out how to phrase her response. “Not so much unforgiving as fearful. For me.”
“Explain.”
She ran a nail down the paper cup, debated how much to say. “My dad always planned my brother would someday run the company. But Sean wanted to join the motocross circuit and race his bike. He’d cut out early every time he thought he could get by with it. The day of the accident, he was miles away from town when a storm hit. He didn’t want Dad to catch on, so he tried to outrun the downpour.”
“And didn’t make it.”
She gave an involuntary sigh and nodded. “Dad’s always referred to Sean’s death as an industrial accident, even though Sean was nowhere near the site.” She swallowed with difficulty. Sean’s death was still painful to talk about. “Funny how I’m the one afraid of storms, yet Sean’s the one who suffered from one.”
“Sounds like your dad hasn’t yet come to grips with your brother’s death.”
His comment cut right to the heart of the matter. “Perhaps. Dad has never acknowledged Sean’s discontent. Instead, he’s built up this picture in his head that no one can ever replace Sean. Including me.”
“And you wouldn’t be in your position now, if your dad hadn’t been so desperate for you to stay.”
“Blunt but correct. After Sean’s death, I thought if I switched my major to civil engineering I could take Sean’s place. It was as much to honor Sean’s memory as to help my dad. But Dad hasn’t wanted me anywhere near construction sites, because he doesn’t want to lose his only living child to another on-site incident.”
He took a last few bites of his sandwich, as if chewing over her story as well. “Isn’t that, uh, somewhat far-fetched? If he really feared for your safety, why didn’t he take you under his wing and teach you accident avoidance techniques?”
“Exactly!”
“Grief can do strange things to a mind.” He stared at the wall of cabinets behind her as if the subject of grief held its own blade over him.
“Guess I’m not the only one who carries a heavy family obligation on her shoulders.” Then she realized what she’d said. His father had been gone about the same amount of time as Sean. “Sorry. That was a misery loves company statement if there ever was one.”
Tough Enough to Tango Page 15