Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash (20 page)

“Really?” She paused, wetting her lower lip. “Well then, maybe we could do something a little different.”

Her smile was slightly wicked and heat shot to his groin. She was going to stay overnight after all. Thank God. He wanted this woman, badly. Wanted to spread her legs, leave his mark, possess her.

“You could drive my car,” she added.

“What?” His voice croaked with disappointment.

“We’ll switch cars.” She smiled brightly. “
You
don’t have a sore hand so you can drive my standard. I’ll come along later, in your car.”

His mouth flattened in horror. Her Neon was so rusty, he’d probably fall through the floor. No goddamn way. “Or I could come just drive back and pick you up at eight thirty,” he said quickly.

“That is such a good idea.” She kissed his cheek.

He sighed at her slick maneuvering. Of course there was no reason to drag her in at six am other than he wanted her company. But he wasn’t in the habit of considering others, usually set his agenda and barged forward. Obstacles were shoved aside or flattened.

And with Three Brooks, the only remaining obstacle was Wally. Get rid of Wally, hire a new manager—a pragmatic, professional one—and move on to his next project. And in between, enjoy Jenna, who was certainly making this backwater town a very pleasant place to be.

Chapter Seventeen

Jenna fed Peanut a piece of carrot then gave his shoulder a quick scratch and guided him back to the kennel. “Enough grass for now, my man. I actually have to work today.”

She strode back to the trailer. Twenty minutes to change and add a dab of makeup. Her heart was pounding a little too quickly, but it wasn’t because Burke was coming. She had this relationship totally under control.

Hugging herself, she bounced down the hall. He was fun and exciting and surprisingly nice. Not nice like Colin but nice in a different way. Hard and soft at the same time, an iron hand in a velvet glove. She shook her head, uncomfortable with the analogy.

Gloves always came off.

Didn’t matter though. She needed to indulge in a man once in a while, and Burke was this year’s indulgence. He was leaving in a week or so. It was perfect.

She pressed her speed dial, surprised when her sister answered. “Good morning, Em. Glad I reached you. How are things?”

“Fine.” Sleep crusted Emily’s voice. “But I’m really tired.”

“Don’t you have classes today?”

“Yeah, but we’re not doing much. And the material is so stupid. Why are you calling anyway? I thought we were supposed to text.”

“I have been texting. You haven’t been answering. Besides, they gave me a work phone with unlimited calling, Internet and everything.” She gave a happy skip, remembering Burke’s statement that she could call anywhere in North America. “And I wanted to tell you that Peanut is getting better. His hair is growing back, he has more energy—”

“That’s great, really great.” Emily’s voice faltered for a moment. “Sis, I want to come home.”

“Come home? You mean for the weekend?”

“No…I mean for good. Maybe Wally would give me my summer job back. It was fun grooming and hanging out. I miss everyone, even mean old Frances.”

Jenna’s legs wobbled. She sank into the kitchen chair, gripping the small phone, struggling to hear Emily’s voice over the painful roaring in her ears. “But we paid all that money,” she finally managed. “Borrowed, scraped. You’re doing so well—”

“I’m failing.”

Failing
. And probably Trevor had just dumped her. Jenna squeezed her eyes shut, biting back her despair. Wouldn’t do any good to yell. Emily always molded her life around her current boyfriend, tended to fall apart when left alone. That fatal gene ran deep.

“Trevor and I broke up,” Emily said. “He hooked up with this girl with a big nose, someone he met golfing. If only we could have afforded lessons. If I’d gone golfing with him, it never would have happened.”

Jenna’s throat clamped so tightly she couldn’t speak.

“So, would you talk to Wally?” Emily went on. “See about getting me a job? You’re his top employee.”

“I told you before,” Jenna said, “he’s not the manager now.”

“Right, well the new guy then. Can you talk to the new guy?”

The new guy’s car rolled into the driveway, crunching gravel under its gleaming tires and casting a long shadow.

“I have to go.” Jenna muttered, wiping at her eyes. “I’ll call you tonight. But go to your classes. Don’t be rash. And don’t let Trevor tank your life.”

She closed the phone and rushed into the bathroom. Damn cheap mascara. She rubbed the black off her cheeks, added a quick touch-up and hurried back down the hall.

When she opened the screen door, Burke stood beside the hood of his car, texting. A beautifully cut grey jacket emphasized his broad shoulders. She paused for a moment, sucking in her breath, gathering her equilibrium. He looked like a high-powered businessman, not her sweaty, bare-chested roofer. She much preferred the sweaty roofer.

He stepped around the car and pulled open the passenger door, then abruptly put away his phone, concerned eyes narrowing on her face. “Is Peanut okay?”

“He’s in the kennel,” she said quietly, still a little off kilter. “I never let him loose when I’m not home.”

He nodded but shot her another assessing stare. Then slid behind the wheel, backed out and whipped over the hill in a ricochet of gravel.

When he pulled into the Center’s parking lot, his attention had returned to the screen of his phone.

“I’ll see you inside,” he said. “The Ridgemans won’t arrive for their tour for another hour.” He gave a distracted smile before dipping his head back over the phone. “Sorry, but this California company wants to play hardball.”

And he looked delighted about that. Just another little challenge he’d sort out before lunch. She fingered the handle of the door, fighting her melancholy, thinking of Emily as she studied Burke. He was capable, too capable, and it was incredible he could take care of so many things yet always remain in control. She had trouble with an aging pony and an immature sister.

“What do you do,” she asked, “if it doesn’t go the way you plan?”

“Find their weakness,” he said, not looking up from the screen. “Exploit it. If that doesn’t work, we walk away. You always have to be prepared to walk.”

“Of course.” She sighed and slipped from the car. That kind of policy might work for Burke and company, but it wasn’t going to help with Emily. You can’t walk away from someone you love.

She jammed her hands in her pockets and trudged up the walkway. Em was always a drama queen. Maybe she just wanted an excuse to come home. Maybe she was temporarily homesick and would feel better next week. God, she prayed Em was joking.

The construction crew called their usual greetings. Terry rushed out and pushed a wheelbarrow off the sidewalk so she could pass.

“How’s your hand today, Jenna?” His concerned gaze swept over her gauze wrap and then shot back to Burke’s car.

“It’s fine,” she said. “That spill was pretty clumsy of me.”

“No, it was my fault. You said the hotter the better so…well.” He gave a rueful shrug. “The job’s almost finished here. Another week at the most. Can I give you a call sometime?”

“I’m sorry, but I have a boyfriend.”

“Figures. But if you just want to get together for lunch or a…tea, that’d be good too.” He glanced past her, yanked his tool belt higher, winked and turned away.

Burke stalked up the walkway, scowling at Terry’s back. “Was that the idiot with the boiling water? What did he want?”

“He was just saying how nice it was that you helped with the building,” Jenna said dryly “They’re finishing early because of the six am start.”

Burke’s lip twitched. “Sorry. I’m out of line. Let’s go inside and you can try our fancy tea maker.” He stood back and opened the door, now marked with a gleaming white ‘Entrance’ sign.

“Hi, Jenna.” Frances poked her head up from behind the reception desk. “I didn’t know you were coming in today. That bitch Kathryn Winfield is here, telling everyone she’s taking over your job. Thank God it’s not true—” She ducked her head, flushing, as Burke stepped inside and closed the door.

Jenna’s smile froze on her face. She’d forgotten all about Kathryn, had even hoped Burke might relent and agree he didn’t need a second masseuse. At least not Kathryn, whose lifetime goal had always been to make Jenna’s life miserable.

Burke apparently was clueless as to Kathryn’s animosity to anyone not of her social ilk. “Where’s Kathryn now?” he asked, pausing to flip through the incoming mail.

“Checking out the massage room,” Frances squeaked.

“Tell her to come to my office. And Jenna, please join us. Bring me a coffee when you come.”

She stared mutely, fighting her ache of betrayal. Maybe they needed another masseuse while she was hurt but once Kathryn had a toehold, she’d never leave. Leo Winfield was too powerful. Even Wally’s good friend had buckled under Leo’s influence.

And Burke was obsessive about secondary education. He was constantly printing directives about staff qualifications and new requirements. Kathryn would immediately rank above Jenna, in both salary and authority. Work would be intolerable.

Frances kept her head down, engrossed with the blank page of her appointment book. Burke picked up a couple letters and strode down the hall.

Frances peered over the counter, waiting until he was out of earshot. “I feel like quitting,” she muttered.

“Me too,” Jenna said, but of course they couldn’t. Jobs were as scarce as hens’ teeth. Even the influential Leo Winfield’s daughter had been unemployed for two months.

“I wish Wally was still the manager.” Frances slammed the appointment book shut. “This is what happens when outsiders try to run things. They just don’t understand how things work.”

Jenna nodded, her throat too thick to speak. She wouldn’t be able to drink a drop of tea, no matter how good it tasted from the pricey new machine. First Emily, now this—on a day that had started out with such promise.

Frances rose. “Guess I’ll tell Her Highness to go on down to Mr. Burke’s office. And you better hurry and get the man his coffee.”

Jenna squared her shoulders and detoured to the staff room, making small talk, fielding greetings, but too devastated for more than polite replies. Yes, she was fine. No, she wasn’t fired and yes, she’d be back in a week or two despite what Kathryn had said.

The new beverage machine was definitely deluxe with an array of choices. Hot chocolate, coffee, tea, cappuccino. Press a button and make a selection. It even had a button for adding lemon, which last week would have left her ecstatic. Now she was filled with despair, her fingers oddly clumsy. It was clear she’d soon become adept with the buttons though, now that she was relegated to coffee girl. Unless she was horrible at getting it right.

She shoved Burke’s cup under the spout and impulsively added a dash of lemon, then four more generous squirts.

Sucked in a resolute breath and walked to his office.

The door was shut and she knocked quietly. Heard his deep ‘come in.’ He always sounded impatient and here she was, a little errand girl reduced to delivering coffee. Kathryn would love it.

Her longtime nemesis was seated in front of his desk, signing employee forms. Burke leaned against the wall by the conference table. He immediately walked behind the desk and pulled out his chair.

“Sit here, Jenna.”

She paused, so surprised coffee sloshed against the rim of the cup. He quickly pried it from her hand as though afraid of another burn. “I was just explaining Kathryn’s duties,” he added.

Jenna sat, warily eyeing both Kathryn and Burke. It was rather empowering to sit in his massive chair with its buttery leather. Even Wally had never let her sit here. She gave the chair an exploratory twist, surprised at how easily it swiveled.

Terry and the boys were loading long boxes in a white pickup and if she turned another six inches to the right, she could see the new flowerbeds. A chair like this probably cost more than her fridge but it certainly was comfortable, certainly could swing—she grounded her feet, stopping its motion.

This was a serious meeting. Kathryn had the education and Leo’s backing. But Jenna had more experience. Maybe Burke would place them on the same level.
Please, just don’t make Kathryn my boss
.

Kathryn’s cheeks were oddly flushed and Jenna straightened, trying to portray cool confidence. Her movement triggered something in the chair. It rose six inches. The armrests extended and a lumbar extension soothed her lower spine. She hid the widening of her eyes but definitely was taller. If she looked straight ahead, her gaze was over Kathryn’s head. Wow. She felt tall, important, invincible.

“Kathryn, if you’re finished with the documents,” Burke said, “you can take them to Frances. She’s your immediate supervisor, then Jenna. We all pitch in around here so just do whatever they tell you. Your job description includes cleaning some stalls,” his face was impassive, “and the staff bathroom.”

Kathryn’s cheeks flamed a brighter shade of pink. “I have a degree. I don’t clean toilets.”

Burke scowled and crossed his arms, the material tightening dangerously. “You’ll do whatever they say. Now take those papers to Frances. She’ll let you know what’s on your list for today.”

Kathryn grabbed the papers, fumbled with an errant sheet and rushed from the office, the click of her heels oddly subdued.

Jenna stared at the door then closed her mouth and looked at Burke. Couldn’t speak. Could only stare with heartfelt gratitude.

“I don’t think she’ll stay long,” he said wryly, picking up his cup. “I should have talked to Wally before hiring her. Staff synergy isn’t my strength.”

“Thank you.” Jenna swallowed twice, wetting her throat. “Kathryn and I have never been friends.”

“No, and with her family, I’m sure it’s been tough.”

She nodded, appreciating his brevity yet the empathy in his voice made her heart kick against her ribs.

“If you’re finished playing in my chair,” he added, “I’m going to sit down, enjoy my coffee and make some calls.”