by Jean Oram
She fiddled with her bracelet, her face lowered.
She was tempted. Tempted to trust him, believe in him and his plan.
“What would you do with a successful company? What’s your dream?” Burke asked.
Her gaze was soft, out of focus, as she stared out the windshield. He knew she could see it, even if she wasn’t ready to share it.
“I’ve been stalking a deal with Tiffer for a long time,” he said. “We’re this close, Jill. But I need you. I have staff who know how to sell stuff.”
“What if I say no?” She turned to him. She was breathing faster, considering his offer. So close.
“Why would you?”
“Because…” Her gaze drifted down his torso. “Because….”
“Then it’s a deal.” He took her hand, shaking it.
“Burke…”
“Consider it,” he said quickly, opening his door. “We’ll meet in my office tomorrow to iron out details.”
“I have a job to go to, you know!”
And before she could outright refuse, he let himself out of the car, knowing that even though it might not be today, soon she was going to say yes.
5
Burke handed Andrea a gift bag overflowing with tissue paper. Balloons were strung up on the staff room walls and a yet-to-be-cut cake was waiting on a side table. New cloth diapers were stacked up beside the company’s very pregnant financial officer, who was watching him with curiosity.
“Burke,” she said with a judgmental frown, “tissue paper?”
“I thought we were better than killing the planet with excess paper products,” Gulliver chirped. “What’s next? Leaving all the office lights on overnight?”
“The store did that for me and it’s reusable—unlike most wrapping paper.” Burke bent to place a kiss on the mother-to-be’s cheek. He’d completely blanked out about the baby shower for Andrea, his mind caught up in business and the fact that it had been a week since he’d last heard from Jill, who was set to sign their prepared divorce papers in less than two hours.
“And you didn’t tell them no?” Andrea asked. “Normally you would.” She arched a brow at him and placed a hand to support her back as she eased into the chair behind her. “What’s got you so distracted?”
Burke waved off the comment. He couldn’t talk about Jill, that was for certain. Or the fact that he still didn’t have a way to leverage money for their expansion plan or for working with Tiffer, should he offer a deal.
“Is this because the company’s going under?” Gulliver asked, his cup of purplish-red punch at the ready, as if he might need to splash it on someone. Namely Burke, who automatically took a step back. His shirt had never recovered from Autumn’s merlot, and Jill hadn’t returned his suit jacket. His wardrobe was feeling the loss of his two favorite garments. He didn’t need to add a third.
And things happened in threes, they said.
Burke took another step back.
“Chill out, Gull,” Andrea said affectionately. “We’re in the black and always have been since day one. We’re just stretched with the expansion—which I still argue we don’t truly need.”
“A global market will help keep us stable through downturns,” Burke reminded her.
“True, but…”
“It’s fine,” he insisted.
“Is it?” Gulliver pressed forward. The staff had moved past Gully’s drama from almost two weeks ago, no longer regarding his “sky is falling” attitude with any seriousness. Thankfully. Nevertheless, Burke gave his assistant a stern frown. He didn’t need everyone worrying again.
“Well, whatever you do, you’d better keep up on my maternity leave payments, buster.” Andrea shook a fist at Burke.
“Gulliver is selling off all the kitsch in my place so your baby can have the best there is.”
“Am not,” Gulliver said hotly.
“Don’t sell your kitsch, you big goof.” Andrea was still whisking pieces of colored tissue paper from the bag. “Is there even anything in here?”
“Careful. Don’t rip the paper. We can reuse it,” Gulliver said, shooting Burke a look of disapproval as he plucked the discarded pieces from the table, smoothing each one before carefully folding it.
Burke checked the clock on the wall. Maybe if this party wrapped up soon he could meet Jill downtown and make one last plea before she signed.
There had to be a way. He’d seen her hesitation. She wanted to work together. If he talked to her, he was certain he could change her mind. Everyone wanted money and success, and he was confident he could provide both. He just had to get her to trust him. And seeing as he’d managed to get her to trust him long enough to marry him, a simple business deal shouldn’t be an issue.
“Burke?” Andrea said.
“Hmm?” He tried to focus on the party, lifting his shoulders and placing a smile on his face.
“You still with us?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. I have a proposal out that’s caught my attention. It may pull me from the office a bit over the next few months.”
“The place won’t be here when you return,” Gulliver said sadly to Andrea. “I bet he’s already doing contract work for others.” He glared.
“Gulliver, don’t be such a downer,” Burke said with a sigh.
Behind him he heard one of the techs whisper to someone, “Where’s the best place to post a résumé these days? Do you think Ethan Mattson would hire me to work for him?”
Ethan was STH’s website contractor who did most of the site’s heavy lifting from his home office in Blueberry Springs.
“If we go under,” came the quiet reply, “he’ll have less work, too.”
The tech heaved a tremendous sigh, causing the pounding in Burke’s temples to pick up. “Maybe we could have a résumé workshop and help each other polish ours up.”
“Would everyone just stop?” Burke said a bit too loudly as he turned around to confront the doomsayers. The room silenced at his outburst. “Sorry. I’m sorry. But come on, you guys, we’re going to be okay, so can we try and be optimistic and positive? Create some good energy in here? We’ve got this.”
“Let’s have some cake,” someone suggested.
“Is it gluten free?” the tech asked.
Gulliver scolded, “It’s cake! What do you expect? Of course it has gluten. And sugar. And butter. And milk. And eggs. I was up all night making this, so don’t you dare complain.”
“It’s beautiful, Gull,” Andrea said.
Burke gently directed Gulliver away from the group, putting him on the other side of Andrea.
“How about nuts?” someone teased, and Burke shot him a look. Not helping.
“I hate you all.” Gulliver threw up his hands, then crossed them over his chest with a huff, in what Burke was fairly sure was a fake sulk. “Next time I’m putting laxative in the icing.” He turned to the mom-to-be. “Well, except yours. It wouldn’t be a nice thing to do to the unborn, who has yet to wound me.”
Andrea opened Burke’s gift at long last, a pack of organic baby wipes, along with an amber teething necklace, several minuscule organic cotton outfits, and gentle natural baby soaps to go with the large stroller the office had chipped in to purchase. She pulled him down so she could give him a half hug from her chair.
Gulliver, grumbling about a lack of gratitude and everyone’s sense of entitlement, began cutting the cake, serving slices to all but the offending parties. “You funny boys can serve yourselves.”
“Why can’t he get it through his head that this is only a hiccup and that we’re not going under?” Burke whispered, taking the chair next to Andrea.
She shrugged. “I think he wants to marry Emilio. But summoning the courage to ask is killing him.”
“Why would he want to do that?”
“Because he loves him.”
“Emilio is a hypochondriac mooch,” Burke declared. “Gully could do better.”
“Don’t you tell him that. Be supportive.”
&nb
sp; “He deserves better.”
“Of course he does. But he loves Emilio and so he overlooks his faults. We all do that when we’re in love.”
“Just another reason to stay single,” Burke said.
“Nobody’s perfect. Not even you.”
“I never said I was. Which is even more reason to stay single. Save the women of the world from all that I am.” He winked at Andrea before realizing the room had quieted, with everyone’s focus on something behind him. He turned to see a woman in the doorway. She was a tall, voluptuous drink of sex appeal in a fitted red sweater and jeans that did something to his brain that caused an elevated heart rate, and smoke to pour from his ears.
“Hello,” Gulliver called. “Are you a friend of Burke’s? You look familiar.”
It was Burke’s wife.
Jill.
The one who planned to sign divorce papers that very afternoon. How could she possibly be even more captivating than he’d remembered? And why was he drinking her in?
Jill was about business, a means to an end. Nothing else.
That’s why she was captivating—he needed her business to help his grow. And natural medicinal creams? Who didn’t love that? He had the market; she had the product.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his throat suddenly dry.
His dry-cleaned suit jacket was in a clear bag slung over Jill’s shoulder. Her confidence faltered and a flash of uncertainty clouded her expression.
“You wanted to talk to me about a…proposal?” she said.
“This is the out-of-town business deal?” Gulliver’s entire being had lit up, and he floated across the room, placing both his hands over Jill’s. “I’m Gulliver. STH is a sustainable, stable company and we absolutely love that you’ve come in to talk to us today.”
“Thank you.” Jill introduced herself.
“Oh, you are all woman.” Gulliver stepped back, appraising her. “Are you the one Burke—”
“Let’s talk in my office,” Burke interrupted. He was at Jill’s side in a flash, plucking her from Gulliver’s grasp.
“I don’t want to take you from your party,” Jill said, her dark ponytail swinging as she refused to allow him to push her from the room. One of her cool hands wrapped around his as he tried to direct her away from Gulliver. Her touch was gentle and it sapped his will to protest, even though he knew it wasn’t wise to have her join the party. “I can come back later.”
Gulliver had angled his way closer again, scooping up the dry-cleaned jacket. “Is this Burke’s?”
Jill said calmly, “I had a wardrobe malfunction and he was kind enough to lend me his jacket.”
Gulliver turned to Burke and lifted a hand, clawing the air with a quiet “Rrrowr.”
“Sorry, everyone, but I need to have this meeting with Ms. Armstrong,” Burke announced sternly. “Enjoy the party and cake.”
He escorted her to his office, very aware that he wanted to give this gorgeous woman whatever she wanted, even if it ended up being beyond his best interests. Which meant he needed to be tough, play hardball. No emotion. Nothing but business.
Right. He was pretty certain he could do that.
If, say, he stayed on his own side of the desk.
Jill followed Burke into his office. He smelled amazing and his office felt warm and inviting, thanks in part to the potted plants he had growing along the tall window behind his desk. He shut the door behind them, turning his steady gaze upon her. Suddenly the room felt too close, her sweater too tight, his tempting proximity much too real.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi.”
They stood facing each other for a long moment before remembering themselves. Burke cleared his throat and moved to the other side of his desk.
“Sorry for interrupting,” she said.
“It’s fine. I’m glad you came.”
“I wanted to talk to you before I sign the papers.”
“It’s better for both of us if you don’t sign,” Burke said.
“I like your proposal, but I’d prefer to grow my business at a slower rate than you’ve stated. I came here because I want to make sure you understand this isn’t personal, and that I plan to uphold my promise to pay back the loan.”
“I was genuine in my offer to help.”
“You mean take over.” Take risks. Leave too much to chance. She’d done that with the café by letting Hayes take care of all the financials, believing his words about growing the business and earning her a bonus from the owners. She’d fallen for it, practically choosing the flooring for the friendship center then and there.
But Burke was different, she reminded herself. He had a reputation that preceded him and had offered to help. She was being a chicken, plain and simple. Working with Burke would be the fast track, and the unknown aspects of that left her with heart palpitations.
“Hacking growth to suddenly break out as the next It Thing is methodical,” Burke was saying. “Growing this way is faster because you build precious momentum, which shoots you forward in a way that moving slowly just doesn’t allow.”
“Thank you for your proposal. I appreciate—”
“You’re never going to get the growth you’re hoping for with your current plan. It’s stifling. You’ve bound your own hands. There’s no room for chance and opportunity.”
“It’s important to me that I maintain the integrity of my products.”
“That’s practically my brand. You need to loosen up so you can succeed.” He was standing now, hands on the desk, leaning forward. “Stay married to me. Just until I meet with Tiffer.”
“Can you meet with him tomorrow?”
“He only accepts pitches from potential clients twice a year. I’m lucky he said yes at all, and I’m not going to push it by asking him to make an exception.”
“Then he’ll have to deal with you being divorced.”
Burke sighed, sitting back with such a haggard look of defeat that Jill hesitated. Now was the time to leave his office, but she found she couldn’t.
But she couldn’t stay, either.
If word got out about her accidental marriage, she’d never be able to show her face in Blueberry Springs. Yes, Ginger had married someone she didn’t know very well last year, but she was in love. It had worked out for her and Logan. Whereas Jill had gotten drunk, married a man and forgotten about it by morning. That was embarrassing.
“Goodbye, Burke.”
“A partnership could be very lucrative for us both.”
“We don’t have to remain married for that.” She reached for the doorknob.
“You borrowed against my personal credit, which I was planning to use to expand STH. You used me—even if accidentally—and I think it’s only fair that I get to use you in return.”
“You can’t be serious. That’s not how marriage works.”
“So in our case what’s mine becomes yours, but not the other way around? How’s that fair?”
Jill shifted from foot to foot, wary of where he was going with this conversation.
He was calm. Too calm.
“In small towns marriages aren’t segmented and individualized,” she explained. “The bank manager sees what’s in the union by way of assets and liabilities and makes her decision based on that.”
“I’m desperate, Jill. You threw a giant wrench in my company’s plans. You saw Andrea out there. She’s having a baby any day. These people need me. I risked it all with that expansion plan. The one you tanked. They think we’re in the black, but when you count the chips…we can’t afford to lose even one at this point.”
“You shouldn’t have taken the risk,” Jill said, feeling the uncertainty of wrongdoing edging up inside her. He’d taken the risks, not her. This wasn’t her fault.
But she had borrowed that money against his credit. Credit he’d planned on using…
“Please, Jill. I had a plan.”
“Have you paused to consider how this looks?” she asked, buying for time. �
�Our marriage makes me seem foolish. Like I’m not in control of my own life.”
“We can fix this problem. We can fix it together.”
Her hand drifted from the door.
“You owe me.”
That tight feeling in her chest and the lightheadedness from the other day returned, and for the first time in a long while she wasn’t sure what was right.
All she knew were the facts, and she did indeed seem to owe Burke Carver for accidentally messing up his plans.
Burke held his breath. Jill had hesitated. A precious moment in time where her indecision sat on a precipitous. Where a puff of wind could send it down either side. Yes or no.
She’d moved from the door and was hovering near the chair across from him.
“Say I was to help you…” She wasn’t looking up from the floor, and he forced himself to remain silent while she chose her next words. “I don’t want to tell anyone we’re married.” She looked up, an apology in her gentle expression, already seeking forgiveness in case her words had stung.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you want, but these things tend to not stay secret. You’ve already told Tiffer, for example. And my aunt knows.”
As well, Autumn knew Jill was something to him—she just wasn’t quite sure what, exactly. The odds of them keeping this all quiet for the next few months weren’t ones he’d bet upon.
Jill raked her fingers through her ponytail, looking thoughtful.
“I don’t care if the world knows I’m married,” Burke said.
“Well, I care. We were married for almost a year and didn’t know. I dated people, Burke. And so did you. It looks like we cheated on each other.”
He was silent for a beat, feeling as though he’d done something wrong, even though he’d been just as unaware as she had been. “I’m sorry.”
She hadn’t seemed to expect the apology and it took the fire out of her. “Me, too, I guess.”
“I’m sorry that it might look bad for you, too.”