Brushing Off the Boss: A Half Moon Bay Novel (Entangled Bliss)

by Annie Seaton

  What if their mother really was ill?

  Sienna rubbed a weary hand over her eyes. This time last week she’d been full of excitement about buying the gallery and her upcoming exhibition. She got through the afternoon, sold a few big pieces, interviewed two artists who were looking for a venue for a show, and took a dozen phone calls. She couldn’t wait until Katy, a young artist, started work as her assistant. That had been one of the positive changes in the past week.

  Jack had lightened the load by getting the mail and bringing her coffee. If only she could forget about how good he looked.

  There been no sign of him since this morning, which should have suited her just fine. But she hadn’t stopped looking up eagerly every time the door opened. At five o’clock, she closed the gallery and headed downstairs to turn the kilns on. She was going to spend a few hours on her pieces. She’d promised Georgie she’d stay overnight after Faith’s party, so that would be another day out of her preparation time. As she walked down the steps she flicked a curious glance toward the garage. There was a shiny new padlock on the door. It would be interesting to see Jack’s work. She had been curious about his methods since he’d described them at dinner the other night. As soon as he came back from wherever he’d gone, she’d ask him to show her, but in the meantime she had work to do.

  Five hours later with her hands on her hips, Sienna studied the array of pieces on the studio shelves. A row of frogs in a variety of positions in bright hues of green, red, and blue looked back at her. She yawned and debated whether to go down and enamel the last of tonight’s batch, but before she could decide, the sound of a motorcycle pulling up at the back of the building caught her attention.

  Her heartbeat picked up and she smoothed her hair down. She’d been perspiring in the heat of the small bricked-in room, and her hair was plastered to her head. Heading for the bathroom to clean up, she pulled off her thick work apron and then stopped before she got to the door.

  What the heck am I doing?

  She turned and crossed the room to the door to the back of the building. Jack was walking across to her, with his helmet in his hand.

  “Are you okay?” He put his helmet on the ground, held the top of her arms and frowned down at her. “When it got so late I was worried about you.”

  A strange warm flush filled Sienna’s chest as he held her gaze, his brow wrinkled in a frown. It had been a long time since anyone had worried about her. Her stomach fluttered and she fidgeted beneath his touch.

  “I’m fine. I’ve been working on my frogs.” She stepped back and rubbed her arms with her hands, trying to ignore the sensation of his hands on her skin. She glanced over at the sofa. “I was thinking about sleeping here tonight.”

  “I was worried your car wouldn’t start.”

  “Oh, shoot.” Sienna rolled her eyes. “I totally forgot about the car. I didn’t call the mechanic.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “What are you, my keeper?” Sienna was sorry as soon as the words left her lips.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just trying to look out for you.” He shrugged. “Besides, I had to come back in. There’s some stuff here in the garage I need.”

  She’d forgotten all about the truck delivery this morning, and her curiosity was piqued. “Did everything arrive okay?”

  “Yes. I just need to get myself organized now.”

  “Jack? Will you show me your work?” Her voice was hesitant. Maybe he didn’t want her to see his work yet. Uncertainty filled her as he stared down at her.

  He hesitated and she shrugged. “If you don’t want to—”

  “No.” He walked over to the small loading area next to the door and put his helmet down. “It’s fine. Employee confidentiality and all that. I’m sure you won’t share what I show you with anyone.”

  Disappointment settled in Sienna’s chest. He was worried she’d take his ideas, and he’d found it necessary to remind her she was an employee. For a while tonight as she’d immersed herself in her work, she’d totally let the situation leave her thoughts.

  “On second thought, don’t worry about it.” Sienna turned away and strode across to the door, her protective work boots making a satisfying clump as she walked. “I’m going back down to the kiln. I’ll lock up when I leave here.” She was almost to the door when warm fingers descended on her shoulder. She turned and looked up at Jack, knowing she was being snarky, but the unwanted feelings bubbled to the surface as the smell of his cologne surrounded her. “Thanks for checking on me anyway.”

  His fingers held her lightly and her shoulder almost sizzled from the warmth of his touch. She shrugged his fingers off. “What now?”

  “I was going to wait for you to finish in case your car won’t start.” He held her gaze. “Would you mind if I came down and watched you work? When you’re finished I’ll show you my pieces if you still want to see them.”

  Sienna stepped back and leaned against the doorframe. Her heartbeat was picking up, and her hands were trembling a little. A strange light feeling in her arms and legs matched the fluttery feeling in her chest. The hard wood of the doorframe pressed against her back and she focused on that as she slipped her hands into the pocket of the protective apron.

  She hadn’t eaten. She needed to eat. That’s why I’m all shaky. It’s nothing else.

  Something shifted, just a little, and her resistance crumbed as all sensible thought took flight. She was tired of fighting it. Before she could stop herself, her hands came out from her pockets and she took a step toward him. Stepping up on her toes, she reached up, slid her hands up the front of his shirt, and held his face with both hands. His skin was warm beneath her fingers and the bristles of his unshaven chin rasped against her fingers.

  “If we don’t get this out of the way, I’m not going to be able to focus on my work,” she whispered. She held his gaze and watched Jack’s lips head toward hers. She closed her eyes in anticipation, and the soft puff of his breath warmed her lips.

  Then nothing. Apart from the touch of his forehead resting on hers.

  She opened her eyes and pulled back away from him a little.

  “I thought you wanted to keep us on a business level.” His voice was soft, but the husky note betrayed the way he was feeling.

  Or she hoped it did. It wasn’t fair if she was the only one fighting this.

  “You said no dates, so I thought that would mean no messing around, too.”

  Laughter bubbled up through her chest, and Sienna didn’t fight it as the giggle spilled over. “Messing around?”

  “Well, isn’t that what we were about to do?”

  Sienna stepped back, relieved Jack had broken the tension building between them. “I guess it was. But you’re right. We’ll stick to what we agreed on.”

  She turned on her heel and pushed the door open, and looked over her shoulder at him. “Come on, of course you can watch me work.”

  Chapter Ten

  A blast of warm air hit them as Sienna pushed the door open. Jack was surprised at the size of the room beneath the gallery, and his interest was piqued immediately. With a kiln room this large at his disposal, he could work around the clock if necessary to meet his deadline.

  Once they sorted out who was going to work where.

  Three small kilns were placed along the back wall, and two large tables ran along the center. Sculpting wax and containers of ground enamel filled a set of shelves beside the door. The tables were covered with a variety of small linear animal figures in various stages of the process. For a moment he forgot that Sienna was there as he wandered over to the table and picked up one of the small bronze figures. He held it up to the light and smiled as the colors merged into one another and deepened when he moved it around in his fingers.

  “So?”

  He glanced across at Sienna, and his smile grew. She was standing, hands on hips and a frown on her face.

  “So what?”

  “Do you think I’m kidding myself, or are th
ey worthy of an exhibition?”

  Jack held the small sculpture up to the light. It was a butterfly in the midst of flight, and its wings were enameled in a variety of blues from the palest eggshell in the middle, to a deep cobalt on the wingtips. He twirled it around. It was small and delicate, very different from his work.

  “It’s beautiful. You’re very talented. But I already knew that from the frogs in the gallery.” He put it carefully back on the table and lifted his gaze to meet hers. “And I’m interested to hear about the process you use. The depth of color you’ve achieved has escaped me so far with my glazing, but my sculptures are life-size and it’s harder to get an even depth of color over the metal.”

  Jack watched Sienna visibly relax beneath his gaze. She dropped her hands to her sides and rolled her shoulders. A small smile played about her lips, and the color in her cheeks deepened as a soft rosy tinge stained her skin. “Hmph…well, thanks.” If he didn’t know better, a slight lack of confidence was coming out from beneath her usual sassy exterior.

  She walked to one of the kilns and turned the temperature gauge up. “Pull up a stool and you can watch me for a while.” She shot him a grin, and a jolt hit him in the solar plexus as her full lips curved upward. “Watch and learn.”

  My pleasure, thought Jack as he held her gaze. She was the first to look away as she turned to the kilns along the back wall.

  Not sure about the learning, but the watching will be mighty enjoyable.

  He slid onto the stool and leaned back against the counter when Sienna lifted the door of the kiln open with one fluid movement. She untied her apron and put it on the table before taking her long-sleeved shirt off and slipping the apron back on. Jack’s breath caught in his throat when she turned to the shelves next to the door and stretched high on her tiptoes to reach for a container of ground enamel. She wore a pair of shiny black leggings, which he was beginning to recognize as her signature work pants. The pants hugged her like a second skin, and the bright red sleeveless cropped T-shirt clung to her back. The heat protective apron covered her from shoulder to knee in the front, and only the ties crossed behind her.

  She turned and glanced across at him as she placed the enamel on the table and slid across a crate filled with pieces of copper and bronze. His gaze lingered on her long, narrow fingers, watching her lift the pieces carefully and place them in a row along the edge of the table. After she removed the uncolored metal shapes, she lifted the crate back onto the shelves, and Jack dropped his gaze to the well-defined muscles flexing at the top of her arms. Her small biceps were sculpted, and her strength surprised him. Dozens of small frog figurines were soon laid out on the worktable.

  Sienna might be petite, but she was strong, and he was beginning to realize how physically hard she worked running the gallery all day and then coming down to this hot cavern to work at night. His respect for her increased, and he wrinkled his brow in a frown. Hopefully the new assistant would lighten her work load. But she was busy now; they’d talk about her handing over more of the work later. In the meantime, he was going to enjoy watching her work. The temperature in the room increased as the kilns heated up to their baking temperature. Jack brushed away a trickle of perspiration from the back of his neck.

  “When I add the water to the enamel powder I pretend I’m making pancake batter.” The tip of her tongue poked through her lips as she focused on stirring the liquid. Her brow wrinkled with concentration when she tipped the water into the enamel powder.

  “Sometimes I get impatient.” She shot him a look and laughed. “I know, that’s me. I like to work fast, but this process has taught me to slow down. I used to think, ‘I’ll just add a bit more liquid this round,’ and I’d inevitably end up with it too runny and it wouldn’t stick. I lost one whole batch a couple of weeks ago. It’s a wonder you didn’t hear me ranting all the way up in New York.”

  “So what did you find was the best way?” Jack was still experimenting with the coatings on his sculptures.

  “Well, it depends on the metal, but it’s a bit like cooking pancakes. It’s good to rest the enamel before you start using it, and of course it settles between uses, so always stir it if it’s been sitting for a while.”

  “I’ve never cooked pancakes.”

  She lifted her head and tipped it to the side as her dark gaze locked on him. “Never?”

  “I don’t cook much at all.” Jack ran his hand through his hair, surprised to find it already damp from perspiration as the room heated up.

  Sienna had a slight tinge of pink on her cheeks, but still looked fresh.

  “Hmm. I forgot for a while you were the spoiled rich boy.”

  “That’s a bit harsh.” A rare fragment of temper tugged at him. She really knew how to push his buttons, and he fought it down. “I ate out most of the time because that’s the way everyone lives in New York.”

  “I thought you lived on your parents’ estate? That’s what Ana told me.”

  “I had an apartment near Central Park, but I moved back home after Dad had his heart attack.”

  “And I suppose you had servants to cook your pancakes?”

  Jack stared at her. “Servants? We had people who were employed to help out.” His eyes narrowed as a small giggle escaped her lips, and he realized she’d been teasing him all along and he’d fallen for it.

  “Well, remind me to teach you how to make pancake batter, and then you’ll have no trouble with the enameling mix.”

  Her lips were full and she had the prettiest mouth. Whenever she was brushing a difficult edge, the tip of her tongue appeared as she leaned closer to the frog in her hand and focused her attention on the gentle movement of the enameling brush. Her black eyeliner was smudged from where she’d rubbed her eyes, and Jack couldn’t be sure if the smudge of shadow on the delicate skin under her eyes was from the kohl she wore, or because she was tired. All he knew was that whenever she moved, he couldn’t keep his eyes from her. He was aware of every inch of her. His gaze traveled from the short pixie haircut, down her long graceful neck, to her petite body. The snug-fitting T-shirt beneath the work apron outlined her small breasts. He deserved a medal for reminding her about their business relationship when she’d grabbed his shirt before. Looking down at her lips and not kissing her had been tough, but he didn’t want to ruin things between them.

  Sienna finished the piece she was working on, and with a soft grunt of satisfaction she held it up to the light, before turning to put it on the shelf farthest from the heat. Jack swallowed when she stood on her tiptoes to put it with the other finished pieces. The form-fitting pants and T-shirt hugged her curves, and his mouth was suddenly dry.

  Damn shame they had this business agreement, because all he could think about was the feel of her leaning against him and her lips against his. Jack pushed the stool back and cleared his throat. It was time to get out of here before he did something he’d regret. They’d made a deal, and he’d keep his end of it.

  “Are you finished now?” He glanced down at his watch. “It’s almost midnight. You’re not going to get much sleep.”

  “I’m going to sleep upstairs.” She stood back and gestured to the door. “You go and do whatever you came here for, and I’ll lock up down here.” She rubbed her arms with those long slender fingers, and he fought the longing to have them running up his chest again.

  “Fine. I just need to get a couple of things to take back to your place.” He didn’t move and kept his gaze on her. “Then I’ll show you my pieces if you still want to see them.”

  “I do.” She shrugged those delicate shoulders. “Are you going back upstairs?”

  “Yes.” He moved to the door and turned back to her. “But I won’t go back to your place till you’re in the studio.”

  “Thank you. That’s nice of you, but there’s no need to hang around. It’s safe here.”

  “I’ll wait for you upstairs.” He let himself out without looking back at her and headed for the locked room to collect his gear.


  …

  When the door closed behind him, Sienna let her breath out with a whoosh and sat on the stool Jack had vacated. It sure was a change to have someone looking out for her, and it felt good. No matter how laid-back he was, and how much that annoyed her, Jack was a gentleman.

  She’d been fully aware of his gaze fixed on her while she worked, and she’d enjoyed answering his questions. Teasing him was fun too, despite the warm shivers that skittered down her back every time he asked her something in that deep and sexy voice. She’d worked alone with her sculpting and enameling for two years now. Georgie and Ana were skilled in carpentry, but they had no knowledge of the artistic processes she’d experimented with since she’d moved to Carmel-by-the Sea. Jack’s interest had been gratifying. Knowing the process, he appreciated how hard it was to get it right.

  So maybe she’d stretched a little higher and for longer than she would have if he hadn’t been there. Her thoughts scattered, she moved across to the kilns and switched them off. He’d reminded her their relationship was about business. And that’s the way it would stay, no matter what her traitorous body was trying to tell her. Listen to logic; her future depended on it.

  “Shoot.” A sharp edge of one of the unfinished pieces pierced the palm of her hand when she picked up the last tray. She dropped it onto the shelf and held her fingers up. Blood was trickling down the side of her hand, and she moved across to the sink and rinsed it off. The cut wasn’t deep, but it was long, and blood seeped out even after she washed it. She curled her fingers to put pressure on the cut, and the blood stopped dripping. The first aid kit was upstairs in the kitchen. Sienna untied her apron with one hand and shrugged it off before uncurling her fingers.

  Damn, the cut was still bleeding. That’s what happens when I daydream.

  She dabbed at the cut with her apron before wrapping it around her bleeding palm. Flicking the light off with her good hand, Sienna pulled the door of the kiln room shut, grateful for the light that spilled down out of the storage shed. It had rained while they were inside, and the wet cobblestones glistened in the moonlight. Ragged dark clouds scudded across the sky and the wind pushing them along brought a tang of salt air from the beach. She’d been so busy, she hadn’t been for a walk on the beach in days. Soon, she promised herself. It would help clear the cobwebs that seemed to be ensnaring the common sense that usually guided everything she did.