Page 28 of Designed for Disaster

I huffed. “This is work related.”

“In what way?”

“That’s what you’ll find out when we get there.”

“Sounds like you just like ordering me around.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yes,” I said simply, daring her to push back. I didn’t mind her speaking her mind. After all, it was part of why I’d hired her. But at the end of the day, Iwasstill the boss. She could accept that…or she could leave.

“Fine.”

“Should I be concerned about the fact you just drove me through an overgrown field, and we’ve now stopped next to an abandoned church?” Natasha asked. “Do you plan to kill me and bury my body here?”

“Too obvious,” I said.

She shot me a glare from the passenger seat. I’d had many passengers in my Lambo, but I had to admit Natasha looked damn good over there, even with the glare. It was like her curves had been made to ride in something so sleek and smooth and luxurious?—

Christ! I needed to stop thinking right now.

“This is definitely how crime documentaries start,” she muttered.

“The documentary comes after the crime,” I pointed out. “So you don’t have to worry.”

“Whatever.” She huffed. “What are we doing here, Trent?”

I arched my brow. “Come inside and I’ll show you.”

I didn’t wait for her response, opening the door and climbing out. “Come on,” I called back into the car, “before we lose the sun.”

Natasha finally exited the car as well, following me up the chipped concrete steps overgrown with weeds and wildflowers.

I pushed on the door, whichdidcreak like something out of a horror movie, the sound echoing through the abandoned church. I half expected it to startle birds out of the rafters.

“Wow,” Natasha said as she walked in behind me, her tone making it clear she meant anythingbutwow. She ran her finger along one of the pews, flicking the dust from her fingertips. “This place is…well, it’s definitely a church.”

“I know it looks rough, but to be fair, it hasn’t been used in over a year.” Even still, the space had some beautiful elements. I glanced up to where the sunlight spilled in through the stained glass windows, shooting rainbow colors along the wall. Most of the windows were still in good shape. There were also numerous hand-carved details on the wooden pews and decorative wall displays all made from quality materials.

“Okay,” Natasha said. “You got me all the way down here. Now are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?”

“The building was going to be torn down,” I said. “So I bought it.” She puckered her lips, leaning one of those curvy hips against a pew. Judging by her face, she clearly didn’t understand. “I didn’t buy the land,” I explained, “just the building, to harvest the materials before someone could put a wrecking ball through it. I thought you could use these materials to make Dee’s furniture. And whatever’s left is yours to use as you please for your own projects.”

Natasha blinked at me, then she turned on the spot, taking the space in again with new eyes.

“I know we never actually talked about what your payment would be the day you came to Dee’s house.” We’d gotten distracted by the whole fake-girlfriend situation and then by me offering her a job with the company. “But I hope you’ll consider the materials a fair payment.”

“It’s more than a fair payment,” she breathed, a little stunned. “Holy shit. It’sso muchmore than fair. Are you…Are you sure? The materials are worth a fortune. Way more than I would have charged you.”

I snorted. Her concern over the price of the materials was cute.

“Oh right,” she said, giving me a tiny smile. “I forgot I’m talking to the Coffeezilla billionaire.”

“Anyway,” I grumbled, choosing to ignore the inane nickname. “I’ve hired a team to deconstruct the church and warehouse all the materials. Once that’s finished, you can go through the warehouse and pick whatever you want. I just wanted you to see it all whole and together first in case that helps with your creative process.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Natasha said, holding her hand up to her face. She was staring at the stained glass, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink.

“You don’t need to say anything.”

“I do.” But instead of elaborating, she threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck. My hands automatically found her waist, then shifted around to the small of her back as she squeezed me in a hug.

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