by Maddie James
“Yay!” LizBeth Ann dragged her eyes from Andrews and Chloe, and clapped.
“Absolutely yay,” Betsy repeated, sighing and sending Chloe a warning glance. She started walking, and her daughter trotted to keep up. At the open doorway, she paused. “You coming, Chloe?”
“Not just yet, thanks Betsy. I’ll hang with the guys for a while. See how things are going. Make sure Samson doesn’t decide to pull the building down out of pure spite. That kind of thing.” She waggled her fingers at LizBeth Ann. “See you later, punkin!”
“See you!”
Their exit left a void. Chloe could hear her heart beating in the hush.
“Miz McClain. You and I need to talk.”
“I thought we were talking.”
“In private.” Though it seemed Greg Andrews was always frowning, she’d never seen such a vicious look in his eye.
“And we can speak privately where?” The main floor of the building was one large open room, with a bathroom and storage room merely framed up in the back. The second floor was probably no closer to completion.
“In my office.” He strode out the doorway, buttoning his shirt as he went. Chloe looked at Mike, who grimaced.
“Probably should, Chloe. Just get some ground rules set.”
She turned on her heel and stalked outside. Ground rules. Like organizing a fight. Which unfortunately this has been from the first moment.
A few minutes later Chloe opened the door to Deluxe Home Improvements. She had seen the storefront hundreds of times, but had never been inside since Greg Andrews bought it and made the place his business headquarters. It certainly didn’t speak well of his abilities as a carpenter, businessman, or housekeeper. The place was a dump. The paint on the plaster walls was chipped, the furniture was cheap and ugly, and it smelled as if the coffee pot had been left on for days.
“Have a seat.”
She looked at a spindly wooden chair and a worn couch with what appeared to be plastic-covered cushions in a particularly hideous shade of green. “I’ll stand.”
“Whatever.” Greg grabbed the coffee pot and left the room briefly to dump its contents and rinse, then refill it with water. In a couple of minutes, a fresh pot was brewing, but to Chloe it already smelled burned. Cheap coffee, dirty burner, or both?
Greg sat in the old desk chair and leaned it onto its back legs. One hand played with a big sprung paper clip on the paper-strewn desktop.
“So, Miz McClain. What exactly is your problem? Are you bored and decided to make my almost-impossible job more difficult? Or are you just not getting any?”
Chloe felt her face burn. How she wished he had been standing in front of her when he asked that question. She would have automatically smacked his face, and it wouldn’t really have been her fault. Since he was sitting on the other side of the desk, and it would be terribly awkward to smack him...
She took a steadying breath. “That ludicrous question doesn’t deserve a reply. My only concern is that the building is completed on time to my specifications.”
“Well. I know that’s a priority for you, but I also have to wonder about the other, because—”
“You have no reason at all to wonder anything about me. Our relationship doesn’t require that we like each other, or that either of us knows or cares about the other one’s personal life.”
He pulled the curves of the paper clip out straight in one fluid motion. “Does our relationship require that you try to make me look like a fool in front of my crew?”
“I...” She had, hadn’t she?
“I’m the boss, and I need a certain amount of respect from my guys. You come in there—somebody they know and like—and pick a fight with me. And for God’s sake, you’re Mike’s cousin—no way are the guys going to feel like they can side with me. Do you think that’s fair? To them or to me? How do you expect that to affect the work environment?”
“I’m sorry.” It hurt like fire to say so. “I hadn’t thought about that. I swear—it’s your fault for being so damned obnoxious. For treating me like an idiot. What’s your problem with women, Mr. Andrews? Don’t you realize we have brains? And opinions?” She held up her hand because he opened his mouth to blurt out something she knew she didn’t want to hear. “I’ll make a compromise with you. I don’t care what you think of me. But if you treat me as an equal, at least in front of the crew, I’ll watch my mouth too. Believe it or not, I usually have lovely manners.” She looked around behind her, and perched on the edge of the wooden chair.
Chloe McClain seemed determined to make his life a living hell, right through the end of summer. There she sat on the edge of his chair, looking afraid she might pick up cooties from it. He had no doubt that she usually had lovely manners. His only doubt was that she would ever let go of her innate dislike for him and just let him work. It wasn’t as if he’d wanted this project. He’d been trapped into it, after all, by the politics of small town life. Well, he was doing the job. Everything would be fine if she would just stay out of his way.
Not likely, though. It was her building after all. She deserved to look at the job as often as she wanted to. She was the customer, and the customer was always—yeah, that stupid saying again.
“Okay,” he said. “We can both try to shut up when we’re around each other. Being nice might be expecting too much, seeing as how ever since we met we’ve been on each other’s cases. How about you come in and ask Mike any questions. If I know you’re there, I’ll try to stay in another part of the building. It’s not that big a place, though. We’re going to meet at times.”
“I can pretend to like you—for short periods of time—if you can do the same.”
“I don’t know. How about we just pretend to tolerate each other?”
She nodded. “That’s a start.” And probably more realistic.
Greg went to the coffee pot and poured a large mug full, then took a long swig. Remembering what they’d just said, he reached for the plastic bag of Styrofoam cups. “So we’ve got a deal. You want to drink on it?”
Chloe McClain wrinkled that damn cute nose of hers and shook her head. “Let’s not get carried away.”
She walked out of his office, her sweet little butt swaying. Greg took another long draw of coffee and swallowed hard. No. Let’s not get carried away.
Chapter Four
“Hey. Calm down, Chloe.”
Chloe paced back and forth in front of the long coffee bar in Midnight Shelby McClain’s Emporium. Midnight, the wife of Chloe’s brother Martin, was also Chloe’s good friend, encourager, and confidante.
“He just makes me so angry! You’d almost think he likes making me angry.”
Midnight smiled. “Who knows? Maybe he does. I don’t know Greg very well. He and Martin go fishing once in a while, but he’s not terribly sociable.”
“That’s not a surprise. He’s an unpleasant man. Every time I see him, he says something to put me down. I think he hates women, except in bed. He practically said as much, right in front of everybody—including LizBeth Ann!”
“Did he now?” Midnight leaned an elbow onto the polished wood bar top, cupped her chin into her hand. What kind of smile was that anyway?
Chloe resumed her pacing. “I’m so stressed, I’m barely functional. I sure don’t have time to deal with a prima donna of a carpenter.”
“Of course not.”
Chloe spun around, facing her friend. “I have my work! So much to finish before the show.”
“You’ve been staying busy.”
“Yes. Work is pretty much my whole life right now.”
“You wish it weren’t?” Midnight’s diamond-and-emerald ring caught the light as she lightly ran her fingers along the bar top.
“No. I love my life. Mostly.” She sighed. “Sure, sometimes I get a little lonely. Even being a McClain, occasionally it’s awkward when you’re a single instead of half of a couple. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”
“I imagine you’re used to it. Maybe not
quite satisfied with it.”
“I guess. Of course there’s nobody in town I’m interested in. Or the other way around, for that matter.”
“Well, Legend is getting some new people now.”
“Mostly families.”
“Mostly.” Midnight’s black eyes held Chloe’s. “Then again, there’s that handsome blonde contractor... Pretty rough around the edges, but maybe there’s an interesting person underneath.”
“Not sure I’m brave enough to find out.”
“You’re one of the bravest people I know, Chloe.” Midnight topped off Chloe’s coffee. “Not many women have gone after their dreams with more energy than you have. You’re an inspiration to a lot of the teenage girls in Legend.”
“I am?”
“Sure. You’re doing work you love, and making a living at it. Plus looking good at the same time.” Midnight winked. “What’s not inspirational about that?”
“You’re great for my ego.” And right now Chloe’s ego needed all the boosting it could get.
“Just telling you the truth. You’re an amazing woman. Don’t let Greg get under your skin so much. Unless there’s a better reason for it, like you’re interested in him.”
“I’m not.”
“Okay. Just saying.”
“And he’s not interested in me.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“Absolutely. He barely tolerates me. We’ve made a pact to be civil to each other when we’re around people. I imagine that’s the best it will ever be between him and me.”
“Civil.”
“Mmm-hmm. And only because we’re forcing ourselves, for the good of the project.”
“I see. Very adult of you both.” Midnight was smiling that knowing smile again.
“Exactly.”
“And how is the project going?”
“On schedule, he said. To be honest, when I was there I wasn’t paying very good attention to detail. Mike said some things about windows... Then Greg came in and he and I blew up at each other. Maybe I’ll drop over there some evening after they leave. Just look around.”
****
A few nights later, Chloe drove into town to check out her building. Even though it was already eight o’clock, the guys were just now pouring out, looking exhausted and glad to be out of there. No wonder! She hadn’t realized they were working such long days. He said he would have to work the guys hard to get the job done on time. She waved and honked her horn, but drove on by. No reason to meet up with Greg. I’ll come back in a few minutes.
It was closer to two hours because when she was home, her brother Robert phoned, and they had a lot of catching up to do. Chloe nearly decided to skip her tour of the building, but even at ten o’clock, she wasn’t afraid to head out on her own. It was Legend, after all—about as safe as you could get nowadays.
The streetlamp gave sufficient light for unlocking the front door. Chloe wondered how long the door had been off its hinges as it had been on her last visit. Not that anyone would bother things...probably. There were expensive tools and building materials here. No reason to tempt kids, or whoever. She quietly closed the door behind her and felt along the wall for a switch. Her hand brushed over a rectangular hole with some wires poking out of it. Catching her breath, she quickly jerked her hand away. Then she pulled the small flashlight out of her jeans pocket. The bright beam proved what she had found—the electric switch box had new wires but they were capped. Well, Mike had said new wiring was required, hadn’t he? Okay. She showed the light around a little more and located the squat, utilitarian-looking spotlights, now dark, that enabled the guys to work in here when the sun was down. The spots’ long extension cords snaked out of sight. Evidently, there was power somewhere. She flipped a switch on one, but it didn’t come on. Figures. And it’s impossible to get an idea how it’s going when I can only see a little bit at a time. Frustrated, Chloe huffed out a breath and aimed her little light randomly around the room. She could come back Sunday morning. Surely Greg didn’t have his crew working Sundays. She spent just a few more minutes stepping around carefully to avoid falling over a piece of equipment or stack of drywall, then headed toward the front door. She turned the knob and it quickly turned the opposite direction.
“What—”
The door was shoved open, and Chloe caught it with the flat of one hand.
“Hey. What’s going on in there?” Greg Andrews—who else?
“I might ask the same. Are you trying to hit me with my own front door?”
“I saw a flashlight beam. Wondered who was in here messing around.”
“No you didn’t. You saw my Jeep out front. You had to know it was me. I have every right to be walking around in here with a flashlight—or a brass band, if I want. It’s my building.”
“Listen, babe. Both of us are glad it’s your building and not mine.” Greg stepped fully inside and closed the door.
How could she be even prettier tonight than she had been before? A shaft of pale moonlight touched Chloe’s face, which was raised to his in defiance, as usual. He sure wasn’t going to tell her that, yes, he knew that was her Jeep, but he also wanted to know if she was in here alone. It wasn’t any of his business, and whether or not she was safe definitely was not his problem. Still, he had stopped his truck and come to check on her. He’d hoped to do it without being seen, but soon realized that, with the sidewalk so much better lit than the building’s interior, he couldn’t see in at all to tell what was going on. The way the flashlight beam had wavered erratically for a while, he wondered what he might find Chloe doing in here. And with whom. Just watching out for the woman who was paying his bills.
“Just checking on things, Miz McClain. Nothing personal.”
She drew in a slow, deep breath. “I think that’s ridiculous when you knew it was me.” She shook her head. “But okay. At least you didn’t quite slam me in the face with the door.”
Greg leaned against the doorframe. “So. You have questions about the project, I’m guessing?”
“I just wanted to look at it without— Well, without you looking over my shoulder. I’m tired of being on my guard around you.”
“I thought we had a kind of a truce.”
“That doesn’t make it comfortable in reality, just in theory. In reality I wish the job was done so I could get my stuff moved in here and you—”
“And I could get my stuff out. Got it. You’re not looking forward to that day any more than I am, let me tell you. I don’t know when I’ve had more hassles with a job than I have with this one.”
“What? I’ve tried to leave you alone.”
“I’m not talking about you. Or at least, not just about you. I’m talking about every material order gets screwed up somehow, a couple of the guys have been sick, which puts us behind. Just a lot of crap that doesn’t usually happen, and it’s all happening with this job. Like it has a hex on it or something.”
“Don’t say that. I’m not superstitious, but—just don’t say things like that. This job has to be finished on time. Everything hinges on it.” She grabbed his forearm. “If there’s something I can do to help it go more smoothly, I will.”
“That’s stupid. You’ve gotta know I’m going to put you to work in here.”
“I would.”
“No doubt. Don’t worry--my crew and I’ll get it. We’re a little stretched right now, but we’ll finish on time. I’ve never missed a deadline, and even though yours is the craziest ever, I won’t miss it either. You have my promise.”
He meant it. Every word of it. Even though he didn’t like her, and he thought her project and deadline were crazy, he was absolutely determined to finish on time.
In that moment Chloe found herself liking Greg Andrews just a tiny bit. And it was a good thing he was determined, because she was working as many hours a day as she could manage to get her last painting done and her little people and buildings in shape. She was exhausted and excited at the same time because everything was moving al
ong reasonably well... But that was before she had heard of the problems here. Why hadn’t Mike said anything?
“Why didn’t Mike tell me there’ve been problems?”
“No reason to. He said you’ve got a lot on your plate with getting ready for the show, and he didn’t want you to worry. I don’t even think he told his wife.”
“Betsy.”
“Right. I don’t even think he told Betsy.”
“Because she would be sure to tell me.”
“No doubt.”
“Because that’s what women do. Chatter to each other about everything they hear.”
“You said it, not me.”
“You don’t have much use for women in general, do you Greg? I’ve never known anybody who didn’t like Betsy, yet here you are trying to avoid saying her name.”
“I like women just fine. Don’t start in again on this. It’s something you won’t want to finish, Miz McClain.”
“I do want to finish it. I want you to say, straight out, exactly what your problem is. Because I don’t think it’s just me. I think it’s more than that. Like you already disliked me before I said a word—just because I’m female.”
He wiped a hand across his face and took a deep breath. In fact, she thought she heard a slight groan before he began to talk.
“Miz McClain, you are an artist, which means you’re creative, so you’re good at making things up. The bare truth is I don’t like you. You’re spoiled. I guess the world is supposed to bend itself to whatever desire you’ve got in your pretty little head just because you’re a big deal around here, and you’re going to bring an art show to little old Legend as a favor to the town and its people. To be honest, I’m not sure Legend needs something like that. I think this is all about your ego. The show is all about you, and you’re playing everybody in the county for idiots.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! You don’t know anything about me, or this show. Like I said, you had your mind made up about me before we ever met.”