If Mom and Dad could see us now, they’d whack us across the head and tell us to get a grip.
Our problem wasn’t one that could be easily solved. I wondered if our parents would agree with me or with Rich, or would they be split in opinions like us? I realized suddenly that, when my brother had taken over the mill, the place had already been in financial trouble. What had my parents planned on doing if the whole thing failed?
That I’d never thought to ask was probably one reason Rich hadn’t expected me to cling to the mill in its dying days. Though we both loved it, and our employees, maybe—to him—how deeply I loved the place had never been apparent. That was my fault for not being clear.
My heart raced when my phone rang again, even though I knew it wouldn’t be Rich. It was Mr. Smith again, a man whose first name I didn’t know and didn’t want to know. I wanted him to leave me alone.
He wouldn't disappear, not even when the phone finally stopped ringing. The Frost Corporation wasn’t going away. Not until I gave him an answer. I wished I could call my brother and ask him if Mr. Smith had been bothering him as much as he’d been annoying me, but in my heart of hearts, I knew he wouldn’t pick up. And why should he? Even if he knew why I was calling, he’d only say the calls were inevitable. I couldn’t run away from my problems forever. Ignoring them didn’t make them disappear. Oh … the lies we tell ourselves.
I had a decision to make, like it or not. Everything would ride on one thing, the damn speech I couldn’t write.
Frustrated, I wanted to tear my hair out. It had never been this difficult for me to write anything before. I’d been the president of the high school debating society. I’d won prizes in college for my speeches. Ask anyone who knew me, and they’d say I excelled at talking.
My parents had been convinced I’d be a trial lawyer or a politician. Now I wondered if I had ever tapped into my true potential. And if I hadn’t, what would my life be like had I chosen differently? Would the mill be in a better place? Or would it not matter? Was it doomed to fail either way? Could I have ended up on the other side of the world, working some high-flying corporate job with an excellent salary, secure health insurance, and a boyfriend as fast-paced as me? And if that was the case, would I have cared when the mill eventually failed?
I shook my head. It didn’t help to think in hypotheticals.
In defeat, I threw on my shoes and headed out to my car, not knowing where I was going. Anywhere would be fine. Somewhere that wasn’t my house.
It was no surprise I ended up at Owen’s. I could laugh at how predictable I’d become, but when I knocked, nobody answered. I walked around to the back to see if he or his brothers were working on the models, but they weren’t there.
“Odd,” I mused aloud.
Deciding they must be at the office, I got back into my car and drove there instead, not sure why I was going or what I would say.
But I needed … something. I didn’t know what. A flash of inspiration. A buzzword or a visual that would set in motion the beginnings of an excellent speech. Again, the excuse. I knew what my actions meant. They were classic forms of procrastination.
“Maybe if I do this instead, then it’ll make what I actually have to do so much easier,” I muttered as I parked my car in the lot outside Cooper Construction. Sure enough, Owen’s truck was there by the back entrance, meaning he was most likely inside.
I sat in the confines of my Subaru for a while, not sure what to do next. What was I going to say? “Hey, Owen, so I’ve done exactly what you thought I’d do and left everything to the last minute, and now I’m following in your footsteps and heading for a doozy of a panic attack.” That wouldn’t go over well. We’d both be hiding in the bedroom curled up in balls, unable to breathe.
My heart nearly stopped when a hand rapped on my window. Alice stared at me. Taking a moment to collect myself, I rolled it down.
“Hey, Alice.” My voice shook.
She took a drag off her cigarette and tossed it to the asphalt. “Are you here to see Owen?”
“Um, I guess so. How did you know?”
She smiled. “Rachel Wilkes from the walking club told Phoebe from the knitting club that you and Owen were a thing. Word travels fast in a small town.” She looked at me with confusion. “Why have you been in your car for over ten minutes?”
I peered through the windshield and realized that both Pax and Eli were watching me from an upstairs window. They waved happily when they spotted my eyes on them, so I returned the gesture.
“Guess it looks pretty strange to see me sitting out here, doing nothing.”
“Not really,” Alice replied. “I get it. Sometimes us girls need a moment to ourselves. Owen is upstairs.”
I nodded. “I’ll head up to see him.”
Alice shrugged as if it made no difference whether I chose to go inside or stay put. I closed the window, got out, and took the stairs up to the office. The smell of bacon and maple syrup from the diner followed me.
“A surprise visitor,” Paxton exclaimed once I was within earshot. “What … couldn’t wait a few more hours to see him at home?”
I stuck out my tongue. “None of your business.”
“How mature of you.”
Eli smiled as he pushed Paxton away, his chair rolling halfway across the office floor.
“How are you? You look tired.”
“You mean, I look like shit.”
He laughed. “Usually, that’s what I’d mean, but I genuinely mean you look tired.”
I yawned despite myself. “That would be because I am.”
“Does Owen have anything to do with that?” Eli asked wickedly.
“I don’t know who’s worse,” I complained, tilting my head toward Paxton as he rolled back to rejoin the conversation. “You, who says everything without a filter, or Paxton, who says nothing but takes it all in.”
“Definitely me,” Eli said. “Paxton will stay silent until you give him a couple ounces of whiskey.”
“Hey, I’m not that bad,” Paxton said.
Eli laughed. “You should see him drunk. He says things to other people. Like, makes jokes and observations and shit. It’s an amazing thing to watch. Kind of like watching a chick peck its way out of its shell.”
Paxton glared at him. “Keep talking like that, and I won’t go out drinking with you tonight.”
“I rescind my remarks,” Eli replied immediately. “But only because you’re buying.”
Eli settled back into his chair with a satisfied smirk. “Anyway, I’m assuming you want to speak to Owen. His office is over there, the one with the big glass windows.”
In the direction Eli pointed was Owen, buried behind models of his show homes with his nose in a piece of paper.
“I don’t suppose you have any idea what he’s working so furiously toward?” Eli asked.
I looked away and shrugged, not trusting my expression to keep his secret. “I assume it’s for his eco-homes.”
“Probably, but … I don’t know. He hasn’t worked this intently on something since New York.” Eli’s voice was quiet enough that only I could hear him. His expression screamed, I know he’s told you about New York.
“I’ll tell him to take it easy.”
Eli didn’t trust his brother to look after himself, and no doubt was hoping I’d do it in his stead. Satisfied, he returned to his desk as I wandered over to knock on Owen’s door.
Something stopped me. Instead, I watched him work through the window. He frowned in concentration, his eyes bright and alert as he diligently realigned some tiny part of his made-to-scale model for the apartments he’d designed.
He was enthralled in his own work, in the fine details, in the core of what made them work. Owen looked … completely at home. This was his life, and he was living it to the fullest, bringing into reality the vision he had in his head.
And that’s when it clicked. My entire speech was suddenly there at the forefront of my mind screaming itself at me. I’d used this
trip as a procrastination mechanism, and in a divine twist of fate, I’d found what I was looking for—the opening line to my speech—“Quality is in the details.”
I opened Owen’s door without knocking, causing him to jump in surprise.
“I wasn’t expecting—”
I rushed toward him, interrupting his words with a kiss that was firm and bold and lingering.
“Hello to you, too,” he murmured happily when I pulled away. “What can I do for you, Miss Stevenson?”
I smiled. “Now that you ask, I’d like an actual date. One real, out-of-Frazier-Falls date, before the exhibit.”
Owen pulled me into his lap. He brushed the hair from my face and looked at me for a moment before his mouth covered mine. After a toe-curling, spine-tingling kiss, he pulled away and smiled.
“I think that can be arranged.”
Chapter Nineteen
Owen
I hadn’t been this nervous for a date since … high school. Okay, no, that wasn’t true. There had been one girl, back in New York, when I’d been in college, who had set my stomach churning in excitement.
Danielle Peters. A senior taking the same courses as me. She was two years older and seemed like she had everything figured out with the small smile that curled her lips, promising all the secrets of the universe. When she had accepted my offer for a date, I’d been beyond thrilled—and terrified. Not a feeling I would normally associate with a girl I liked, but it had made perfect sense. I’d thought Danielle was the person for me. If I could have her, there would be nobody else.
Then, she stood me up. Not intentionally. Later, she would explain that her mom had been taken to the hospital, and that it was serious. It was then I realized her entire act of being in the know, or in control, was precisely that—an act. A façade. When it came down to something frightening or unknown happening, she was the same as the rest of us. No one had the solutions to life’s secrets.
Still, until I knew why she’d done it, being stood up had hurt like hell. Not to mention how embarrassed I’d been. How stupid I was to get so worked up and nervous as well as excited about something as inconsequential as a first date.
The first date I was going on now, years later, was not inconsequential. And so, it followed that if ever there was a date I could be nervous about, this would be it. I tried to ignore all the emotions Carla brought out in me. Things that could fill me up to the brim with happiness. Things that could eventually tear my heart out if it all went to shit. The plan was to make sure that didn’t happen.
After Carla’s subtle recommendation, I’d booked a Japanese restaurant two towns over in Idaho Springs where nobody would know who we were. There would be no gossiping or interruptions or distractions. We’d finally have an evening all about getting to know one another. Hence the nerves. What if she decided she didn’t actually like the real everyday me? The not at work and not in bed Owen; that would be worse than being stood up.
I’d dressed in a soft blue linen shirt, dark gray pants, and darker shoes. The casual Rocky Mountain atmosphere didn’t call for a suit and tie by any stretch of the imagination. Colorado late summer evenings were still warm and required no jacket.
I was excited to see what Carla would wear, and even more excited to see what she’d be wearing or not wearing underneath her clothes. Neither of us had made an effort for the other one yet. Tonight, I was clean-shaven and dressed up—a rarity.
I’d booked a hotel for the evening—the penthouse suite—so I hoped nothing would go wrong, and we could enjoy the date to the fullest. We damn well needed tonight.
Carla was waiting outside when I drove up to her house. I put the car in park and rushed out to greet her. She wore a lowcut, purple dress with a floaty skirt, her makeup done like a fifties pin-up model, and her chestnut hair gently curled around her face. With the wind billowing through her dress and the late afternoon sunshine in her hair, she was one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen.
“Wow. Wow.”
“Is that all you can say—wow?”
“Words were never my strong suit,” I said as I led her to the car. I kissed her lightly, then rounded the front end to my side.
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she replied after I climbed behind the wheel. “Though what I wouldn’t give to see you in a suit …”
I laughed. “You’ll get to see me try not to die in one at the exhibit.”
“And what about a tux? That would get them looking.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“I’d love to see that,” she murmured as she checked her makeup in the passenger seat mirror. “I bet you’d look sexy in a tux.”
“You’d ask me to wear one to the exhibit out of curiosity?”
“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
“Maybe if you’re good, I’ll put one on for you once everything’s finished.”
Carla raised an eyebrow. “Do you own one? You don't seem like a guy who rents one out.”
“Yes, I own one,” I said. “I’m tall. It's hard to get an off-the-rack, rented tux that looks halfway decent on me. I needed it for the job in New York.”
“Oh, so you have a custom-made one? This keeps getting better.”
I grimaced. “I haven’t had to wear it in a couple years. It may not fit anymore.”
Carla gave me an obvious once-over. “I highly doubt that, Mr. Cooper.”
“Calling me Mr. Cooper is weird given there are three of us Mr. Coopers.”
She considered that for a moment. “You’re right. When Paxton came up to the mill the other week, Devon told me that Mr. Cooper was in to see me, and I assumed it was you, though I’ve been working with your brother for years.”
“I’m sure he’ll be heartbroken that you’ve replaced him so easily.”
“Something tells me he’ll get over it.”
The rest of the drive passed by in no time. The air was full of easy conversation, flirtatious comments, and suggestive glances. I didn’t think I’d enjoyed an honest-to-goodness flirtation as much as this one in a long time.
When we pulled up outside the restaurant, Carla looked at me, confused.
“Aren’t we going to check into the hotel first?”
I lifted my brows. “Who says I booked a hotel?”
“There’s no way you’re not consuming alcohol all evening, Owen Cooper, and I know you don’t drink and drive.”
I laughed. “The hotel is on the next street over, so we can leave the car here.”
She wiggled in the seat. “How convenient.”
“Convenience happens when you go to dinner in a place with a population greater than five thousand.”
“Good point.”
I got out of the car first, walking around to the passenger door to let Carla out. She nodded approvingly as I took her hand and led her inside.
“Such a gentleman.”
“If I’m allowed to help you out of the car tonight, then you have to let me pay for dinner. Those are the rules. I didn’t make them up.”
“Sure you didn’t.” She kissed me on the cheek, lightly enough, so none of her lipstick transferred to my skin. “Okay, Mr. Gentleman, you can spoil me tonight.”
“Gladly.”
Japanese turned out to be an excellent choice. We mixed-and-matched our sushi and teriyaki bowls until neither of us knew who had ordered what. This resulted in the kind of dinner date I’d thought only existed in films and television, where the heroine feeds the hero off of her chopsticks, and he steals food from her plate with his own. It was ludicrous, childish fun fueled by sake and wine.
By the time we paid the bill and began our short walk to the hotel, the two of us were full, tipsy, and turned on.
“Stop looking at me like you can see through my dress,” Carla whispered when she caught me staring at her again. “I thought you were a gentleman.”
“Even a gentleman can’t help but appreciate perfection when he sees it.”
“God, yo
u’re disgustingly charming when you want to be.”
“I think I stopped piling on the charm when I realized you weren’t someone I only wanted to sleep with.”
She surprised me by linking her arm through mine. “It’s kind of gratifying to know you changed for me, and I didn’t even have to ask.”
“You wouldn’t have to ask me to do anything. I’d do it if there was even the slightest of chances you would want it done.”
There was an awkward pause for a moment as the two of us processed what I’d said. It was a more serious remark than I’d meant to make, yet it was true.
When we reached the front door to the hotel, Carla whirled around and looped her arms around my neck. I took the hint, leaned down, and kissed her. Her mouth tasted deliciously of wine and spices.
“You’re sweet,” she murmured as she pulled away. “I almost don’t know how to handle it.”
“Hopefully, you’ll learn.”
She laughed as I opened the door to let her into the hotel. “I’ll enjoy the education.”
A sleepy-looking attendant was behind the reception desk, but when I told him my name, he perked right up.
“Mr. Cooper. We’ve been waiting for you. It was the penthouse suite, correct?”
I nodded in confirmation, then the man motioned for us to follow him to the elevator, where he handed me a key.
“Put that in the keypad, and it’ll take you up to the top floor. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call the front desk.”
“Thank you.”
When Carla and I were alone in the elevator, she looked at me with disbelief. “I can’t believe you booked the penthouse suite. The penthouse?”
“You said you wanted a real date.”
“This is lavish by anyone’s standards.”
“I don’t want to be judged by anyone’s standards. Only yours.”
I unexpectedly crashed into the wall of the elevator, Carla pushing me against the glass in order to kiss me. She ran her hands up and underneath my shirt, her fingers roving hungrily around the top of my belt.
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