by Eva Moore
He blamed the busy season, the constant interruptions, the second-language factor, the stupid vendor websites that wouldn’t load on his phone—but he just plain hated paperwork. He was good with his hands and had an eye for detail. Ask him about any open job, and he could tell you anything you needed to know, from dimensions to finishes. But words and numbers did not like to go from his brain to the page easily. He’d play to his strengths, thank you very much. He tossed the unfinished bid form back on top of the pile and ran his hands through his hair, unable to focus with Sofia still on his mind.
He spooked her somehow, and no matter how much he longed to run his hands over her lovely hips, no good would come from hitting on and striking out with the boss’s daughter. Too many people were depending on him to make the most of his career to risk her rejection. She could crush his goals with a well placed “no” at the dinner table. She worked with contractors all day. Given that she was built like a fucking brick house, Adrian was sure that she shot down unwanted advances all day long. He wouldn’t put himself in that position no matter how many more pleasant positions he imagined her in.
His phone buzzed in his hand and her name flashed across the screen, as if his dirty thoughts had summoned her. He let it ring twice while he pulled himself together.
“Hey, I put together a cheat sheet on the TV contract. Do you have time to go over it today?”
“I’m all the way down in Almaden Valley. I wasn’t going to go back into the office before I go home.” He certainly didn’t want to see her in his, uh, current state. Just hearing her voice was making things harder.
“Can I meet you halfway? I really need to get these signed so we can get the ball rolling. The producer keeps calling me. I guess they’re really excited.”
“Okay, sure. Have you eaten?”
“What?”
“If I’m making you drive a half hour out of your way, the least I can do is buy you dinner. Do you know the Black Bear Diner? On El Camino?”
“Yeah, it’s a favorite of mine.” He knew that but wasn’t going to say so for fear of going too far.
“Great. I’ll see you there around six.”
See? He could keep it professional if he tried. And now he’d gotten a dinner date out of it.
No. He got firm with his inner horny devil. Not a date. A business meeting. One I can’t afford to blow.
When Sofia finally got to the Black Bear Diner after battling Bay Area rush hour traffic, Adrian was already seated at the table. She pulled her hair back into a fresh ponytail after the drive and tugged her sweater back down over her hips. She had nothing to be nervous about. This was just coffee and contracts. He had his hands curled around one of the two cups of coffee before him, and she briefly envied that stoneware mug before pushing away those unprofessional thoughts. He rose to meet her when she approached the table.
“Hey, gorgeous. I’m ashamed to say, I don’t know how you like your coffee so I left it black, but asked for everything.”
Sofia rolled her eyes at both the endearment and the idea that anyone would know how she took her coffee. He was after something, and she wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit, no matter how prettily delivered.
“Cream, one fake sugar, the green one if they have it.”
She reached for the coffee, but his hand closed over hers and she jerked back, singed.
“Please, sit down. I’ll do it.” She sat and watched, faintly stunned as he prepared her coffee just right. When was the last time someone had taken care of something as simple as making her coffee? Too long ago to remember. She had to remind the flutters in her belly that it was a simple gesture, certainly nothing to read into, but she appreciated it all the same. He slid the drink in front of her, and stood while she sipped.
“It’s perfect.”
“Good.” Apparently satisfied that he’d done the job well, he sat back down and sipped his own coffee. “So, contracts?”
Right to business. Of course, because this isn’t anything but a work meeting. She bent to dig the papers out of her massive purse and when she rose, Adrian’s gaze was significantly lower than her chin. She was usually very careful about keeping her 40DDs covered, but her V-neck sweater must’ve given him quite the show when she’d leaned over. Her cheeks flushed crimson, but she couldn’t tell if her blush was the usual one of embarrassment over her body or one of pleasure over the blatant male desire she saw in his eyes. Maybe a weird combination of the two? She sure as hell didn’t know how she felt about that. She fell back on her defensive habits honed over her years working with construction grunts. She crossed her arms across her chest to symbolically block his view. Her cough and raised eyebrow drew his eyes farther north.
When he did look her in the eye, the desire was carefully banked, and Sofia could tell she had his attention where she wanted it.
“The contracts. Basically, you agree to play nice for the cameras and explain what you’re doing to the viewers at home. You also have to agree to work within their timelines and shooting schedules. They have certain dates they need certain footage by, etc. Then we pay your wages, insurance, retirement, as usual, plus an added stipend from the show.”
“So what happens if the project goes over forty a week? Do my guys get paid overtime?”
“Hmm, I’m not sure. Let me check.” She pulled her cheater glasses from her purse and perched them on her nose before scanning the documents in the dim light. “No, it doesn’t cover that. They are considered ancillary and do not get any increased stipend. I assume Dad would continue to pay regular overtime hours though.”
“You assume? Would my crew have any hour limits? Like max ten a day?”
“No. They’d agree to work until the required task was done.”
“I can’t sign this.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“You are asking me to sign away their rights and protections. These guys will be taking the brunt of the workload, and this doesn’t even guarantee they will get paid what they’re making now. Did you talk about any of this with Dom?”
The truth rankled, but she hadn’t seen this pitfall, and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her father since he’d dropped off the contract on Monday.
“I’m sure it’s just an oversight.”
“I can’t sign this without his assurances, and I need to talk to the guys first.”
“Damn it.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and calculated delays. “I can’t imagine your guys will be called on to do all that much overtime. Your projects always run on time.”
“But this contract says that if we do run late, we have no choice but to stay until it’s done. These men have lives, families, and second jobs that may suffer. They deserve the right to choose.” His voice had gone hard, and she realized she’d sounded pushy and petulant. Just because she wanted to move the contracts through quickly and without too much scrutiny didn’t mean it was the right thing for everyone involved. That realization didn’t make it any easier to tamp down her frustrations.
“You’re right. Of course they do. I just thought I’d be able to get these contracts done today.”
She looked up and took off her glasses. An almost wistful grin stretched his face, and that damn dimple that made her knees weak was winking at her.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” She wiped her upper lip.
“No, querida, I just like the way you look in glasses. I’ve always had a thing for smart women.”
Jesus, laying it on a little thick… Enough was enough. “Listen, you don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Compliment me, call me beautiful or gorgeous or querida. It’s crap and you know it.”
He paused for a moment, and in that silence Sofia watched confusion turn to frustration.
“But it’s what I see.”
“Oh, please. Look at me.” She gestured to the body she loved and hated daily. Since Gabe had died and her well-organized world had fallen apart, she’d gained thirty po
unds. On her already petite frame, this had pushed her from curvy to overweight. She hated not fitting into her cute clothes anymore, but buying new ones in a larger size felt like giving up. She couldn’t let herself get comfortable at the weight she was now, and the pinching waistbands and gapping shirts made sure she felt every unwanted inch. Sweaters were the only thing that covered her well enough to hide her ill-fitting jeans.
She needed to get serious about losing the weight. Tomorrow. Next week, for sure. But right now, she just needed him to stop reminding her of everything she’d lost.
“You can’t fire me, right?”
“No, I can’t.”
He sat silent for another moment, and she could almost see him weighing his words.
“Then I will tell you exactly what I see when I look at you. I see tempting blue-gray eyes that sparkle with intelligence and humor behind glasses that make me dream about naughty librarians. I see sexy blonde hair that you wear pulled back in a tight ponytail too often, making my hands itch to let it down. I get distracted when you walk into the room. Every curve makes me want to look, to touch, to savor. I see a pretty girl I used to know who has grown into a beautiful woman I’d like to know better.”
She had no words, no response, no idea that those thoughts had been hiding behind his casual endearments. She had no script for this situation because never in a million years could she have seen this coming. Her mouth dropped open but nothing came out past the lump of lust in her throat.
He shook his head. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it, and I will call you Fi like everyone else. No. No, I can’t give you the nickname of a poodle. But I will watch my words.” He rose from the table and gathered up the papers she’d brought for him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’ll talk to my guys tonight, and let you know about the contracts in the morning.”
Before she could marshal her whirling thoughts into phrases, he was gone. Damn it! He’d gone and crossed her wires, but he hadn’t given her a chance to untangle her tongue.
She turned her glasses over in her hand. Would she ever look at her specs the same way again?
He’d probably been insulted that she hadn’t flirted back or at least said thank you, but she’d been too busy swallowing her own tongue in shock.
Maybe it was for the best. She couldn’t deny that she found him attractive, too. But knowing he felt the same didn’t change the fact that they worked together. It was still a bad idea.
“Can I get you anything to eat, hon?” The waitress looked at her with pity in her tired eyes, and Sofia caved to impulse. She deserved a little pick-me-up after letting that piece of man-candy walk out the door.
“One of your chocolate cream pies, please.”
“You bet.”
Sofia smoothed a hand over her tight ponytail, the images he’d painted still vivid in her mind. Dating him might be a bad idea, but his fantasy intrigued her, and Sofia was certain she’d be dreaming of the library later.
Chapter 5
“I guess you’re all wondering why I called you over here tonight.”
Adrian sat at his mother’s table, surrounded by anxious faces. The last-minute call had produced more anxiety than he’d intended, but it couldn’t be helped. His mother, God bless her, had responded by raiding her freezer so at least everyone had a plate of her famous enchiladas to soothe them. Graciela Villanueva never let a friend go hungry.
Children up past their bedtime chased each other around the living room packed with well-loved furniture, while their mothers chatted in the homey kitchen and brought more shared dishes that had been intended for their own tables into the dining room. The men, ranging in age from seventeen to fifty-six, were gathered around the table, waiting for him to speak. The weight of responsibility felt heavy on his shoulders tonight. This was his crew, his community, and he knew they were counting on him to lead them straight.
“So, you’ve heard about this TV idea?” Heads nodded solemnly as he scanned the room. “I talked to Sofia today, and I have some concerns. You will have to decide if you want to sign the contracts or not.”
“Tell us.” This came from Alonzo, an older man who said little but had seen a lot.
“They have strict timelines and filming dates. The work gets done on camera, and we have to follow their direction as well as Dom’s. Your pay will still come directly from Valenti Brothers at the same rates you get now.” He paused and waited for the questions to come.
“So we have to work all the hours they say?” Rico raised his voice above the murmurs.
“We have to get the jobs done on their schedule. It doesn’t say we all have to stay.”
“And they don’t have to pay us overtime or extra for the show?”
“No, you still get overtime from Dom, but nothing extra for the show.”
“It sounds like a lot of extra work for no extra money. I mean, we don’t stand to benefit if the show does well either. What if we say no? Do we lose our jobs?” Rico was quick to tease out the problems Adrian had foreseen.
“For now, I could try to switch you to Frankie’s crew or keep you on the other projects we have running. But if the pilot gets picked up, and we start doing only TV houses? I can’t say.”
“Man, you know I’m busting my ass on two jobs already. I can’t be late because of some bullshit director!”
A chorus of agreement rose up in response to Rico’s comment. Adrian raised a hand and quiet slowly fell.
“I know, man. I know. So here’s what we do. One, don’t panic. Two, bust our asses to get our shit done on time like we always do. Three, if we do need to stay, it will be me and anyone who can afford to stay. Even if that means it’s just me.”
“That’s not fair to you though,” Alonzo pointed out.
“If it means everyone keeps their employers happy and their families fed, I don’t care. I can handle it.”
He pushed aside a vision of a wife and children who suddenly had startling blond hair. He’d find the time for his own family eventually. Somehow. The needs of his found family were more important right now.
Conversation continued as his guys hashed out how to make this work with their crewmates and spouses. Angry grumbles and soothing reason flowed back and forth, as partners figured out the details and made plans for their futures together. Sitting in silence, waiting, Adrian felt jealousy creep around the edges. He would do what was best for his family, as he always did, but being the guy in charge was getting old. He was ready for a partner to help shoulder the load.
This TV deal had been an unexpected complication to his plan, but as any good builder would say, complications are just part of the business. And if approached correctly, they become opportunities. If he could make this work, it could really benefit his entire community. More demand meant more work meant more jobs, and he was the guy hiring.
His mom came and rested her head on top of his.
“¿Està bien, mijo?”
“Si, Mamá. It’s a solid deal, if we can make it work.”
“You’re a good boy, Adrian. A good son. Always fixing things for everyone else. Who will fix things for you?” She ran her hands down over his hair to rest on his shoulders as she had for as long as he could remember, and he leaned into the comfort.
“I’m fine, Mamá. I don’t need anything fixed.” The reassurance rolled off his tongue even as the image of a stunned Sofia floated through his mind. Nothing to fix except a few scratches to his pride. He would be just fine.
When Adrian strode through the door of the office an hour early Thursday morning with a mocha in hand, he was firmly in fix-it land. He had his contract requests figured out and his apology for what he’d said memorized. He was prepared to say and do what ever he needed to get Sofia to agree. He had a packed day ahead of him so he was hoping to get in, apologize, convince her, and get out.
His plan to wait in her office and surprise her backfired when he opened her door and found her already sitting at her desk, although slouc
hing was a better word for her posture. It wasn’t until she failed to respond to his “Buenos dias” that he realized she was asleep in her chair. Setting the coffee down on her desk, he took a moment to watch her. She was so rarely still. How had he missed that sexy little mole high on her cheek or the way her lashes, much darker than her hair, brushed her cheek when they closed? He fantasized about making those lashes flutter closed with his kiss and sighed. Sleeping beauty, indeed, but he was no prince.
Pushing aside his desire, he ran a hand down her arm to wake her.
“Princesa, wake up…”
Those lashes fluttering open was just as sexy as he’d imagined in reverse, and his pulse leapt in response. He jerked his hand back from her arm and leaned on the backs of his hands against her desk, as if that would keep his desire to touch in check.
“Adrian? What are you doing here?” Her voice cracked with sleepy confusion. Why the hell did he find that sexy?
He pushed the coffee toward her. “I brought a peace offering.”
She took a sip and sighed her pleasure, yet another image that he was sure would haunt him later.
“Were we at war?”
“No, but we do have a difficult conversation to have.”
“So this is a bribe?”
“More like stacking my deck for a good mood before we get started.”
She took another sip and moaned again. “Your strategy is sound. This is definitely improving my mood. I came in early to try and get ahead on the day, but I must have fallen asleep.” She stood and stretched, raising her arms high over her head, her breasts showing him a hint of their fullness above the neckline of her T-shirt. She addled his brain without even trying, which was the reason his next words slipped past his filter.