“Some little bird all right. I’m sure Steph was chomping at the bit to tell whichever board member she was sleeping with last night.”
“I know Stephanie wants that vacant seat on the bank board. But I doubt she’d stoop to sleeping around to get it.”
Betsy began unpacking the box on Mary’s desk. “And I thought I had a tendency to be naïve.”
“Why are you unpacking that? I assumed by the way you looked when you got back things didn’t go well with Skylar Blakewood. And since the bank reminded me our year is up and they need to take a look at the books--”
“Mr. Blakewood will not be taking Stephanie’s place as our biggest client. As for the bank, I was just about to pay them a visit.”
“And tell them what?” Mary asked and flopped in her desk chair.
Betsy smiled slyly. “I’m not going to tell them, Mary. I’m going to convince them it is in their best interest to give us an extension. They want our money, not our business.”
The telephone rang cutting short Mary’s amused chuckle. Betsy watched her partner’s eyes brighten once she gave her usual pleasant greeting to the caller.
“What already?” Betsy pressed the instant Mary hung up and remained silent.
Mary finally found her voice. “Do you know who that was?”
“Of course I don’t. Who was it?”
A gigantic smile landed on Mary’s mouth. “We got it!” She sprang out of her seat and shouted. “Skylar Blakewood.”
“Skylar Blakewood what?”
Mary stopped jumping up and down. “That was his secretary on the phone. You’re supposed to bring over the listing contract.”
Betsy believed Mary misunderstood. “He’s contracting with us for the entire project?”
“Sounded that way. His secretary’s words, Mr. Blakewood decided on your agency to handle his new home development. Then she said to have Miss Alexander bring over the contract.”
Instead of jumping for joy, Betsy stood filled with skepticism, while her mind frantically searched for an explanation.
Chapter Three
The industrial park area that skirted the small community where Betsy lived had expanded over the last few years with trucking terminals and warehouses. And now, a three story brick office complex stood in the midst of them. One of Skylar Blakewood’s projects Betsy had discovered. He’d reserved two of the ground floor offices for himself and managed to lease all the others for an incredible amount of money.
Not quite noon and the high humidity already broke a record for the day. Betsy’s hair went flat and her slip stuck to her as a result.
She stopped on the stoop to the main entrance of the office building to pull the damp material down beneath her sleeveless dress. But fixing her slip wasn’t the only reason she hesitated outside the glass double doors.
Standing on the threshold of another encounter with Skylar Blakewood twisted her nerves in knots.
Stop procrastinating woman and get on with it, an inner voice ordered.
Betsy threw back her shoulders and burst inside to be blasted with the refreshing coolness of the central air conditioning. It took a few moments for her body to adjust to the sudden change in temperature and she forged onward to the reception desk.
When clearing her throat out loud didn’t get the young woman to look up from the paperback book she had her nose in, Betsy tried again using her voice. “Excuse me. I’m here to see Mr. Blakewood.”
The woman’s pale complexion shaded pink. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Blakewood isn’t in right now.”
“He has to be. I saw old Betsy in the parking lot.”
She wrinkled her brow and gazed at Betsy as if she were crazy. “All I know, Miss, is Mr. Blakewood left earlier for a meeting at the bank. I don’t know anything about an old Betsy.”
“Miss Alexander was making reference to my truck, Crystal.”
“Skylar!” Crystal gasped and her cheeks glowed pink. “I didn’t know you were back.”
“I came in the rear entrance a little while ago.”
Betsy stood in total silence. She heard the conversation between the two from a distance because of what was taking place inside her.
From the moment she heard that deep voice and saw him framed in the office doorway, her insides began acting up again. The man looked positively stunning in the chocolate colored suit and matching brown tie he was twisting loose from the beige shirt he wore.
“It feels like the air conditioning just went on the blink,” he declared as he pulled off his jacket.
“I think it’s chilly in here,” Crystal said.
“You better check with maintenance anyway.”
Betsy watched the model thin young woman reach for the telephone, but continued to feel his powerful presence. And the sparks zapped deep within her, igniting a fire of comforting warmth when his voice came to her.
“Forgive me, Miss Alexander. Come on into my office.” He slung his jacket over a shoulder and motioned for her to come his way with his free hand.
In spite of her legs turning to jelly, Betsy advanced toward him. Her breath caught in her throat when her arm brushed against his on her way inside the room.
Betsy couldn’t help but notice the cluster of sweat beads that had formed above his upper lip. Once again he twisted at his tie as he moved out around her and stopped behind his clutter free glass desk top.
“Since we’re going to be working together, I suggest we drop the formal stuff and call each other by first name.” His words came out in one quick breath as he flung his jacket haphazardly over the back of his desk chair before sitting in it.
“The working together part is why I’m here.” Betsy felt herself jump from the unexpected sound of her own voice. But now that she remembered she had one she wasn’t about to stop until she said it all. “After closely evaluating our previous encounters, Mr. Blakewood, I feel it would be in the best interest of all parties to decline your offer of representation.”
Skylar leaned forward. His voice came at her with that same coolness that had riled her before. “For one thing, Miss Alexander, you can’t afford not taking me on as a client.” He kicked back in his chair, appearing more relaxed and even a bit amused. “Secondly, you managed to convince me you have the determination and persistence required to get the job done.”
Betsy was prepared to tell him her financial affairs were none of his business until his last statement quite literally swept her off her feet and she dropped on one of the high back chocolate colored leather chairs in front of his desk.
“I’m sorry for my behavior on our two previous meetings. I was downright rude from the start.”
Betsy saw those light blue eyes flash with sincerity before darkening.
“Perhaps what I did was unforgivable. But I had to test you, Betsy. My homes deserve every penny of their high price tags. It is important the agency I choose to represent them understands that, as well as who pays their commission.”
“I’ve always tried to get the seller his asking price. And I’m well aware of who pays me, Mr. Blakewood.”
He snickered. “You made that quite clear at the open house the other day. But I needed to know you weren’t one of those agents who tell buyers the seller will take less than the asking price.”
“I could lose my license if I did that.”
“That doesn’t seem to enter every Realtor’s mind when he’s trying to put together a deal.”
Betsy couldn’t argue with the man. For the first time she had to concede and agree with him. The real estate business was no different than any other business. There are always those few who regard the almighty dollar as their boss.
“Suppose I was to forgive you for your downright rudeness. Would you be signing on with our agency to sell all forty homes?”
Skylar chuckled. “I have to confess. I wasn’t thinking too clearly when I told you there would be forty homes instead of twenty.”
So his childish temper tantrum had been real yesterday. Mayb
e the man was the arrogant, rude and self-centered person she had encountered right from the start.
“But when you mentioned wasting valuable building land on Christmas trees--”
“I don’t see a hillside coming alive in a splendor of greenery and smelling of pine a waste. Never mind the shelter those trees would provide to our wildlife. Need I continue, Mr. Blakewood?”
Skylar slouched in his seat. “I’d say you made your point, Miss Alexander.”
If his humble tone was a true indicator, Betsy felt she’d managed to quell any thoughts he might have about making another statement in regard to her idea being a waste.
It became Betsy’s turn to shrink a little as Skylar worked his large frame upward and sat tall.
“I think a compromise is in order here, Betsy. I’m willing to consider adding a few trees to my plans if you’re willing to take me on as a client for six months.”
“Six months!” Betsy repeated, confused.
“I will have the first house completed by then. Hopefully you will be able to tell me it’s sold.” He paused briefly. “I’m also willing to pay you seven percent of the selling price instead of your usual six.”
Betsy didn’t need time to think. Sometime during the night she’d come to accept the fact that she’d lost the land. It might take a while, but she’d find another magnificent hill on which to build her dream house. In the meantime, she’d have a chance to work at adding to her near depleted bank account. But she was having an extremely difficult time saying yes to Skylar Blakewood’s generous offer.
Suddenly, as if someone else slipped inside her body and called the shots, she found herself standing and extending her hand across the desk. “You have yourself a deal, Skylar.”
When he grasped hold of her hand to seal the deal with a gentleman’s handshake, a hot tingling sensation raced from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes. She sensed Skylar felt it too by his sudden starry-eyed look. But the way he snapped his hand back and began moving around his desk to the door proved her theory wrong.
He opened the solid wood door and in an uneven voice said, “I’ll get a copy of the house plans to you in a couple of days.”
“That should be helpful in stirring up interest in some of my buyers.” Betsy heard some unevenness in her own voice as she moved toward the door. Toward the intoxicating scent of him that had temporarily weakened when he moved away from his desk.
“I was hoping I’d find you here.”
The familiar high-pitched voice sent an icy chill through Betsy. She didn’t have to crane her neck around as Skylar had done to see who the voice belonged to.
“Stephanie.” Skylar smiled, almost blushed when Stephanie Rogers pressed her tall lean body against him and kissed his cheek.
Betsy wanted to turn her head away. The sight of the two of them upset her stomach. She saw the imprint of lip gloss Stephanie left on his cheek when she slowly pulled back her face. When she cuddled up to him, Betsy thought she might really be sick.
With luck, Betsy hoped she could slip out around them without being noticed. But the realistic side of her warned they were taking up too much of the doorway for her to pull it off. She ignored the warning.
Flattening her back against the door frame, she squeezed through. The sound of Skylar’s voice let her know she wasn’t home free even though her fierce strides had put her near the front door when he called out.
“Where’s the fire?”
“I’m late for an appointment,” Betsy shouted so she wouldn’t have to look back.
She went out the door and crashed into a wall of heat that took her breath away, temporarily immobilizing her. Of course her state had to be the result of the sudden impact of heat. She refused to consider leftover emotions from the scene inside had anything to do with her suffocating feeling.
It took a few minutes before she found herself buckled up inside her car and driving toward her office. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind Mary would be relieved when she told her she’d taken Skylar on as a client. Especially after she’d told her less than an hour earlier she wasn’t going to. Mary said she understood. But Betsy didn’t see how she could possibly understand the way this man made her body come alive in such a magical way whenever he got near her.
“You look hard at it,” Betsy commented as she entered the building and dropped in a chair near Mary’s desk.
Without glancing up from the paperwork she had in front of her, Mary spoke. “I’m working on a profit and loss statement for you to take along to your meeting at the bank this afternoon.”
With all the emotional turmoil she’d experienced in such a short time, Betsy had completely forgotten she’d promised Mary she’d meet with the loan officer at the bank. Or that she’d somehow convince the man to give them an extension on the twelfth month stipulation written into their loan agreement. But things certainly had changed since she made that promise. Now that she’d committed herself to taking Skylar on as a client, the banker wouldn’t need much convincing.
“Finished,” Mary suddenly blurted, then handed the sheet of paper to Betsy. “Now that I’ve taken a closer look I’m happy to report we aren’t in that bad a shape.”
Betsy scanned the double column rows of numbers on the one side of the paper. “In black and white you hardly notice all the red spots.”
“That’s nothing to joke about, Betsy. Seriously though, those figures aren’t bad considering the slump the market’s been in. But to a banker--”
Betsy knew if she allowed the woman to get herself all worked up she’d have another one of those ulcer attacks she’d been suffering with since they became business partners.
“Calm down, Mary. The bank isn’t going to even care about those figures once I mention we’ve taken on Skylar Blakewood as a client.”
“But I thought--”
“Can’t a girl change her mind? Besides, it’s a little hard to say no to a seven percent commission.”
“You’re kidding?”
Betsy smiled as she gave a nod.
“This calls for a celebration.”
Betsy watched the happy woman reach for the phone. “Who are you calling?”
“Ordering a pizza smothered in pepperoni. That still is your favorite too, isn’t it?”
Betsy chuckled. “You know it is.” Then she remembered. “What about your ulcer?”
“It loves pizza. And it’s my treat too.”
***
Betsy put the closed sign in the front window and locked the door behind the delivery boy. The two women headed up to Betsy’s office where they spent a good part of the next hour talking about anything that popped into their heads, while they polished off the entire pizza.
It was almost five o’clock when Betsy finished at the bank and started off on foot for the office. She couldn’t allow the ninety degree temperature and high humidity to slow her down on the two block walk. Not only had Mary gotten into the habit of leaving the office at five on the dot, Betsy knew she’d be chewing her fingernails off to the skin until she heard the outcome of her meeting.
Betsy put on her biggest smile as she burst in the door. “You can stop biting your nails. We got the extension.”
Before Betsy could continue, Mary started waving her hand in the air to silence her. “Skylar Blakewood’s waiting for you in your office,” Mary whispered, while Betsy leaned over the desk so she could hear her.
The sudden rise in Betsy’s body temperature had nothing to do with the weather. She’d left that heat outside on the doorstep. And even though she wouldn’t admit it to a soul, she was certain the hot waves washing through her had to do with hearing his name and knowing he was nearby.
Somehow, she managed to whisper back to Mary. “What’s he doing here?”
Mary shrugged her slender shoulders, stood, grabbed her purse and started for the front door. “See you tomorrow,” came out in a normal tone. So did her, “They’re all still there too,” as she waved her fingernails in front of Betsy
seconds before she pulled the door shut behind her.
Betsy stood still while she watched Mary through the front window until she disappeared inside her economy-sized car. She remained standing there, statue-like when the sound of his voice came to her from behind.
“We’re alone again.”
Chapter Four
Betsy attempted to steady her breathing and quiet her stomach that turned a somersault at the sound of his seductive voice.
She slowly faced him. “Skylar, this is a surprise.” The words came out in one quick sweep instead of smooth like Betsy planned. But when her eyes met his she was so busy willing her emotions to be quiet that she had forgotten.
“I wanted to bring you a copy of the new house plans like I promised. I put them up on your desk.”
Betsy’s stomach was doing one flip after another as he took baby steps in her direction. Stop gaping at him like some love struck teenager and say something, she ordered herself. “You didn’t have to make a special trip into town.”
“I didn’t.”
“Well good,” Betsy stammered. “I am anxious to see the plans. I’ll take them home with me so I can give them a close look tonight.” She’d rambled until his voice cut her off.
“Do you ever take time out from work, Betsy?”
The warmth in his tone was soothing enough that Betsy relaxed and smiled. “I could probably ask the same of you.”
A crooked smile appeared on his face. But the grin was short lived and the man wrinkled his brow as though in deep thought. “Maybe we both deserve a little time off. What do you say to a quiet dinner? Then we could--”
“No. I really can’t tonight,” Betsy cut in stammering again. Only problem was she hadn’t said what she really wanted to say.
The evening Skylar suggested sounded wonderful. But if she said yes, what would she be agreeing to next? The unknown never frightened Betsy before. But when it came to Skylar Blakewood, she was scared to death of these new emotions that grew in strength every time she was in the man’s company.
“Can’t or won’t?”
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