Jennifer's Garden (10 page)

Something she intended to tell him.  Setting the packet aside, she dialed his number.

“Jackson Montgomery.”

“Mr. Montgomery, this is Dr. Hamilton calling.”

“Oh, hello Dr. Hamilton.  Did you have a chance to look at my proposal?”

“I did.”

“What do you think?”

“Well, it’s fine but I wanted to discuss a few items with you.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“I’d prefer to do so in person.  How does your schedule look this evening?”

“I’m pretty flexible.  When were you thinking?”

“Around seven?”

“No problem.  I’ll see you then.”

“Thank you.”

Squarely past her initial surprise, she looked forward to the encounter.

# # #

Jax pulled into her driveway precisely at seven, but a wary sense of misgiving gnawed at him.  Didn’t she like his ideas?  Was there something she wanted to add?  She left the definite impression this was more than a formality to finalize terms.

Pulling around the circular drive, he cut the ignition, and its aging motor responded with a pop.  “Sorry, Sue,” he said, patting the crusty dashboard.  “It won’t be much longer before I can retire you to part-time.”

Reserved solely for visits to the mainland.

As usual, the thought of his future nudged his spirit up a notch.  Once he set sail, days of dealing with difficult clients would be a thing of the past.  There’d be nothing but blue skies and blue waters on his horizon.

The prospect brightened his outlook and refueled his drive to handle the meeting ahead.  Whatever she had coming, he was prepared.  Dropping keys to the console, he pushed open the door and tossed it closed behind him.

On approach, he eyed the house with fresh appraisal.  The place must have run the good doctor a cool million, easy.  Best location, superb renovations, but then her type could afford such luxury.  No kids, rich fiancé, she was set for life.  Probably had a second and third home, too.

Not him.  One was enough and a floating one, to boot.  And he was getting close now.  The agent swung by this morning and assured him he could cash in big, after a few cosmetic repairs.  His house sat on the fringe of the more wealthy Coconut Grove section, so he had the coveted location, location, location.

Jax didn’t know much about the market location.  He only bought there because he liked the feel of the area.  But if the woman was right, tagging the price considerably higher than he expected, his dreams of retiring were only months away.

Leaping up the three steps to the gated entry, he noted it was left open.  She was expecting him.  Passing through the small courtyard, he admired the setup.  Small but charming, with a brick fireplace set in an exterior wall, a rattan loveseat and chair settled in front of it.  Very nice, Jackson thought, the perfect place to enjoy a cool winter’s evening.

He rapped twice on the heavy mahogany door.  On second thought, maybe she doesn’t need the fireplace he drew in for the back porch.  Immediately his mind began to brainstorm alternatives as the door opened.

Her smile was small, cool.  “Hello, Mr. Montgomery.  Thank you for coming.”

“Most call me Jax,” he said, wondering if she was always this formal.  Not only her tone and mannerisms, but she was dressed in a navy blue pantsuit, under which she wore a starched white button-down.

But, much like he noticed on prior occasion, she was definitely a beautiful woman.  Cool, but beautiful.  Her hair was pulled back in a shiny ponytail, sitting low at the nape of her neck, different than the higher one she wore yesterday.

Must be the business version, he mused.

“We can use the kitchen,” she said and invited him inside.  “It will give us a view of the back as we discuss the proposal.”

“Sounds good,” he said, taking in the dark wood floors as he followed her through the house.  They were a near match to the tongue and groove wood ceilings.  The wall color reminded him of Dijon mustard, her furnishings sparse but stylish, with tan upholstery and deep red throw cushions.

The floor rug was a blend of the same with the addition of green and pale blue accents, the effect both subtle and pleasing to the eyes.  He noted with approval the fireplace, framed in by keystone.  What he assumed to be family photos dotted the table tops and dominated the foyer, adding warmth to the space.

Once again, he liked what he saw.  “You have a nice place.”

“Thank you.  I’m still working on the finishing touches, but my schedule has posed tough competition.”  She led him to the breakfast table where his drawings were laid across the round glass table top.  He glanced at her.  In very meticulous order, no less.

She didn’t offer him a seat.

“I had a few questions before we proceed, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”  He smiled, glancing into her kitchen.  Wood cabinets, lighter than the floor were glazed for a pleasant almost graceful effect which coordinated well with the polished, sand-colored stone countertop.  Jax wondered whether this was her selection, or had she used a professional for the interior, as well.

“I noticed you didn’t include but one fruit tree in the back.”

Taken by surprise, he said, “We can add more, if you want.”

“The brick patio is something we didn’t discuss.”

“It came to me as I was sketching the fountain.”  Resting a hand on the back of a dining chair, he said matter-of-factly, “It gives continuity from the back wall to the pool, joining the two areas as one.”

“Nor is the fireplace on the porch.”

“No,” he paused, instinct beginning to fire.  “But it increases the intimacy of the space.”

“Increases the price tag, too.”

Ah...  So that’s where she was going with this little pow-wow. 
The money
.  “It does,” he said, controlling his tone, “but it also adds to the overall appeal.  It connects the two areas in a seamless flow, and provides a beautiful setting for a wedding.”  Michael told him what lay behind her haste.  He had designed it with that in mind.

“Wedding or not,” she snapped.  “It adds to the cost.”

“Yes it does,” Jax answered, curious as to her sudden rise in agitation.

“And why are the plants so expensive?”  Referring to his breakdown of costs versus labor, she picked up a few pages and ran a finger down the column of numbers, poking at the larger ones.  “I called a couple of nurseries in town and the price they quoted me was substantially less.”

The blaze in her eyes had an accusatory feel and began to singe his easygoing nature.  Tightening his hand around the chair, he shifted his weight and replied, “The reason mine are higher, is because I plan on using larger, more mature plants in the back yard.  I thought it would help with your plans, seeing as how the event will follow so closely behind the completion date.”

“Thank you,” her gaze dodged him.  “But that is none of your concern, Mr. Montgomery.”

One good deed never goes unpunished, isn’t that what they say?  He let go of the chair and placed both hands on his hips.  Waiting for her next play, he was amazed by how quick ocean-blue eyes could turn to gray-blue glaciers.

“The cost of the fountain seems a bit exorbitant.”

Was she just looking for things to bitch about
?  But he remained mute.  Let her spell it out.  He wasn’t giving an inch.

Glaring at him, she looked down at the papers in her hand and pointed to the bottom line.  “My concern is how do we modify this?”

“We don’t,” he said, before good sense had a chance to intervene.  He could apologize to Michael later, but damn it he wasn’t used to being questioned on his fees.  He was worth every penny and this woman better get used to that idea if they were going to be working together.  “My bids are fair and non-negotiable.  You want to change the plant size, fine, but that’s as far as I budge.”

Jackson Montgomery stepped on his pride for no one.

Jennifer didn’t say a word.  She only stared.  “Do you have any guarantee for your completion date?”

“I do. 
Me
.”  He thumped a thumb to his chest.  “If I don’t finish when I say I’m going to finish, then you don’t pay.”

“Including the fountain and brick patio work, if I choose to accept the proposal as is?”

“Everything.  The fireplace was an option for the future, but I can have that finished, too.  If you so choose.”

Indignation flared in her eyes, but at an apparent loss for a comeback, she said nothing.  Slowly, she replaced the papers onto the table.  When she looked back at him, the mix of displeasure and need he saw swirling in her eyes cut the legs from under him.  Damn.  Struck by her sudden vulnerability, a part of him wanted to reach out to her.  This woman was on tumultuous ground.  This wasn’t about price.

But the larger part of him wouldn’t move.  Not an inch.

“Very well, then,” she brushed a stray hair from her brow.  “I guess we have a deal, Mr. Montgomery.”

“Great,” he said, a mountain of mixed emotion rumbling through him.  This project was going to test him.  On several different levels—if his current response to this woman was any indication.

But Michael was the kind of man you didn’t disappoint.  Not because he was a close friend, but because he did things for the right reasons; helping people because it helped them, no more and no less.  His was a favor Jax could never repay.

If moving closer toward his goals meant working with an irritable hard-boiled silky pearl of a woman, than so be it.  He could let the nastiest condescension slide right down his backside and into the toilet.  At the same time, he’d have to tamp down the swell of attraction he felt toward her.

Damn the luck.  “Dr. Hamilton, we have a deal.”

“Can I let you know about the additions tomorrow?”

“Sure.  But don’t wait too long.  I’ll need to let my supplier know so we can get the bricks in time.”

Jax hadn’t meant to end his sentence with a slap, but the sharp flush to her cheeks was unmistakable.

“Fine.  I’ll be sure to expedite my decision and let you know in the morning.  Will a call around six-thirty suffice to comply with your schedule?”

“No problem,” he said, knocking the wind from her challenge.  “Let me know about the fruit trees, too,” he tossed back with a smile, then erased it from his face.  “Have a good evening, Dr. Hamilton.”  Before she had a chance to react, he turned away.  “I’ll find my way out.”

Chapter Nine

Jax arrived early Tuesday morning with a crew of three.  He noticed Dr. Hamilton had already left for the day, but she had obliged his request by clearing out any personal items from the yard, such as lawn chairs and planters.  His assignment today was to remove weeds and overgrowth, and prepare the ground for planting; the most laborious part of the process.

Orders for product had been placed with his suppliers and a masonry contractor was already lined up to do the fountain and patio work.  An hour into the task, Jax’s cell phone rang.

Setting his hoe aside, he wiped a gloved hand across his sweaty brow and plucked the phone from the clip on his waistband.  He frowned at the caller’s ID. 
Why was she calling
?

Pressing the green button, he answered, “Jackson Montgomery.”

“Jackson, it’s Dr. Hamilton.”

“What can I do for you, Dr. Hamilton?”

“I was wondering what time you planned on starting today.  The pool service is coming by around nine and I wanted to be sure there was no conflict.”

“We’ve already started and there’s no problem with the pool company.  We’ll stay out of their way.”

“Good,” she replied after the briefest of pauses.  “When do you expect to be finished with the first stage?”

Agitation swelled in his gut. 
Was she always this controlling
?  “By the end of the week,” he clipped.  His proposal had included a stage-by-stage time frame.  All she had to do was read it.

“And then the planting begins?”

“Some of it.  The back fountain needs to be installed first, then we lay the brick with the plants to follow.”

Jax was beginning to get that itchy feeling on the backside of his neck, a bad omen she was going to be breathing down it.  He hoped to God she didn’t plan on playing pseudo-foreman for the entire project.

“Fine,” she said, but didn’t continue.

Was there something particular she was after, or did she simply expect him to elaborate?

One of his guys glanced at him, silent understanding in his eyes.  Difficult clients were nothing new to them.

“Will there be anything else, Dr. Hamilton?”  He threw in the title, just for effect.

“No, that will be all.  Goodbye.”

Ah, the dismissal; short and sweet.  “Bye-bye,” he touted softly, punching the call to an end.  Sliding the phone back into its holster, he grunted and rubbed the back of his neck.

Per Mike’s request, he had put this job at the top of his list, red alert on the priorities, get-it-done-at-all-costs.  He was happy to do so.  For a friend.