Page 8 of Forty and Fighting Dirty
“We’ll get to that later,” my boss replied, not taking his eyes off of me.
It was the damnedest thing, being looked at like that. His eyes were dark, but with the light streaming in from the big windows behind Mila, they no longer looked black as coals. Rich, dark brown irises gleamed in the morning sun, highlighting the rough-hewn planes of his face. His hair curled slightly at the ends, and it was long enough to brush the edge of his collar. His denim shirt, tan canvas pants, and steel-toed boots made him look like a man who worked with his hands instead of a wealthy businessman who’d decided to revive his half-dying town.
But there was no denying the air of arrogance and ownership that clung around his shoulders. This was a man who knew he could have whatever he wanted with the snap of his fingers.
My pulse was thumping far too hard. I tried to slow it with long, deep breaths, but Rhett Baldwin was still standing too close to me, still watching me too intently.
This man could run me out of town, and I would be destitute. I could go back to Heart’s Cove to live with my sister—but then what? Put my kids in a new school, lick my wounds, try to start over…
I couldn’t keep asking Georgia for help. She’d already floated the cost of the plane tickets out to Colorado, and she was coming to visit for Thanksgiving in a couple of months. She was driving my car down, which was as good an excuse as any to come check up on me. Georgia would be more than happy to give me a loan to make sure my boys and I were fed and clothed and had somewhere to stay, but how much longer could I rely on other people to save me from my own mistakes?
I needed this job. Needed to stand on my own. Desperately needed Rhett Baldwin to put this morning behind us so I could prove to him—and the rest of the company—that they hadn’t made a mistake in hiring me.
I gulped back the bitter lump in my throat. “Listen, I’m sorry for my outburst in the coffee shop,” I said, not liking the way the words felt rolling around my mouth. “I overreacted, and I apologize.”
Rhett gave me a slow blink and said, “I don’t believe you.”
“What?”
“I said, I don’t believe you.”
“Don’t believe that I’m sorry?”
His lips curled ever so slightly, and the tightness in my gut could have been dread—or something else. “Precisely, Ms. Darling.”
I’d kept my ex-husband’s name after the divorce, even when he’d asked when I was going to change it back. But it was myname now, the name I shared with my sons. Hearing it on Rhett’s lips, spoken in that dark tone, made the world tilt.
When my boss finally tore his gaze away from me to look at Mila, I let out a quiet exhale and closed my eyes for a beat.
He was going to tell Mila not to bother with the paperwork and then march me right out of his building—and his town.
This was it. The end. Curtains. Start over once more, Piper Darling, because you can’t help but screw everything up.
Except he didn’t do that. Instead, my eyes snapped open when Rhett said, “I’m going to take Ms. Darling out to the site so she can get a sense of the project. She can do the paperwork when we get back.”
“Sure,” Mila replied. “I’ll get her set up in one of the meeting rooms while Mike sets up her computer at one of the free workstations.”
Relief made me unsteady. I leaned against the bulky reception desk, sucking in a quiet breath while the two of them spoke. I didn’t want to owe Rhett Baldwin anything. I still thought he was a jerk. I still knew I was right about the whole line-cutting thing.
But I really,reallyneeded this job—this fresh start. And if Rhett wasn’t going to fire me, there was no way I was quitting just because of a man.
“Thanks, Mila,” Rhett said. He spun around and marched to the glass door. Once he’d pushed it open, he glanced back at me. “Any day now, Darling,” he said, tipping his head toward the stairs. “Unless you have an objection about this too?”
I was on a roller coaster of emotions, exiting the loop-de-loop of terror, slamming into the straightaway of relief, and entering a slow, steady climb of simmering anger. My eyes narrowed as I met his gaze. “The only thing I object to is when someone doesn’t understand the basic rules of polite society,” I sniped as I walked toward him. When I reached the doorway, I glared up at his handsome face, and all the fear of being fired melted away.
I wasso sickof men trying to dictate what I did with my life. I’d stayed home and delayed going back to work because my ex had demanded it. I’d stayed close by, even without any job prospects, because he wanted the convenience of being able to change visitation to suit his whims. I’d twisted myself into knots to make myself fit into his life, even after divorcing him.
No more. Never again.
“Basic rules of polite society,” my boss repeated, musing.
“Like cutting in line,” I explained, every word sharp. “Iwillcall that out every single time.”
His lips curled, but there was no amusement in his dark eyes. “And not even a little sorry about it,” he noted. “I knew you were lying about that.”
I stepped through the door he held open for me, and the slight lift of his eyebrow wasn’t lost on me. I knew he was making a show of doing the gentlemanly thing to needle me.
And the hell of it was, it was working. But if I was going to survive in this town—and do right by my kidsandmyself—then I had to put up with him. At least until I had my feet under me.
