The Dream Unfolds Page 5

  Slipping back into the car, she turned it around and retraced the trail to the point where the main driveway led to the mansion. She followed it, parked and went up the brick walk, under the ivy-draped portico, to the door. Putting her face to the sidelight, she peered inside.

  The place was empty. Jessica and Carter had finally finished clearing things out, putting some in storage, selling others in a huge estate sale held several weekends before. The idea was for Gideon’s men to spend the worst of the winter months inside, working on the renovations that would eventually make the mansion into a central clubhouse, health center and restaurant for the condominium complex. Whether Jessica and Carter would buy one of the condo units was still undecided. For the time being, they were living in Carter’s place in Boston.

  Reaching into her pocket, Chris took out the key Jessica had given her and let herself into the mansion. Seconds later, she was standing in the middle of the rotundalike foyer. Ahead of her was the broad sweeping staircase that she found so breathtaking, to the right the spacious living room lit by knee-to-ceiling windows bare of drapes, to the left the similarly bright dining room.

  That was the direction in which she walked, her footsteps echoing through the silent house. As she stood under the open arch, looking from window to window, chandelier to wall sconce, spot to spot where paintings had so recently hung, she imagined the long, carved mahogany table dominating the room once more. The last time it had been used was for the wedding, and though she hadn’t been there, she could easily picture its surface covered with fine linen, then silver tray after silver tray of elegantly presented food. Giving herself up to a moment of fancy, she felt the excitement, heard the sounds of happiness. Then she blinked, and those happy sounds were replaced by the loud and repeated honking of a horn.

  She hurried back to the front door in time to see Gideon climb from his truck. He was wearing his work clothes with nothing more than the same down vest, which surprised her, given the weather. So he was hot-blooded. She should have guessed that.

  “I thought we agreed to meet down there,” he said by way of greeting. He looked annoyed. “I’ve been waiting for ten minutes.”

  She checked her watch. “Not ten minutes, because I was there five minutes ago. When you didn’t show, I thought I’d take a look around here. Where is everyone? It’s a gorgeous day. I thought for sure there’d be work going on one place or the other.”

  “There will be,” Gideon said, holding her gaze as he approached. Stopping a few feet away, he hooked his hands on his hips. “The men are picking up supplies. They’ll be along.” He smirked. “This works out really well, don’t you think? We can talk about whatever it is you want to talk about, then you can be long gone by the time they get here, so they can work undisturbed.”

  His reference to what had happened the last time was barely veiled. The look in his eye took it a step further with the implication that she’d been the one at fault. That bothered her. “You deliberately planned it this way, I take it.”

  He scratched his head, which was hatless, though from the looks of his hair, he’d just tumbled out of bed, stuck on his clothes and come. The thought made her feel warmer than she already was.

  “Actually,” he said, “the guys had to pick up the stuff either today or tomorrow anyway. After you and I arranged to meet, today sounded real good.”

  “It’s a shame. I was hoping they’d be here. They’ll have to get used to seeing me around. I will be, more and more, once things get going.”

  His smirk deteriorated. “Yeah. Well…”

  “They won’t bother me if that’s got you worried,” she went on, gaining strength from her own reassuring tone. “I’m with workmen all the time. It’s part of my job. Plumbers, plasterers, painters—you name it, I’ve seen it. They may not love having me poking around, but at least if they know I’ll be wandering in from time to time, they won’t be alarmed when it happens.”

  “My men weren’t alarmed,” Gideon argued, “just distracted at a very critical time.”

  “Because they weren’t expecting me. They had no idea who I was. Maybe it would help if I met them.”

  “It wouldn’t help at all! You don’t have any business with them. You have business with me!” He eyed her with sudden suspicion. “You want them around for protection, I think. You don’t like being alone with me. Is that it? Is that what this is about? Because if it is—” he held both hands up “—I can assure you, you’re safe. I don’t fool with the hired help. And I don’t fool with blondes.”

  “I’m relieved to hear that,” she said, deliberately ignoring the business about “hired help” because it was a potential firecracker. The other was easier to handle. “What’s wrong with blondes?”

  “They’re phony.”

  “Like rednecks are crude?”

  Gideon glared at her for a minute, looking as though there were a dozen other derogatory things he wanted to say. Before he could get any out, though, she relented and said, “Look, I’m sorry. I’m not here to fight. I have a job to do, just like you. Name-calling won’t help.”

  He continued to glare. “Do I make you nervous?”

  “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

  “You were nervous at the meeting at the bank.”

  And she thought she’d looked so calm. So much for show. “There were eight people—nine, counting the banker—at that meeting. I was auditioning for a job I really wanted. I had a right to be nervous.” She wondered how he’d known, whether they’d all seen it or whether those dark gray eyes were just more keen than most.

  “Were you surprised when you got the job?” he asked innocently enough.

  “In a way. The others have bigger names than I do.”

  Again, innocently, he asked, “Did you think that I’d vote against you?”

  “That thought did cross my mind.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I abstained.”

  “Oh.” She felt strangely hurt, then annoyed. “Well. I appreciate your telling me that. I’m glad to know you think so highly of my work.”

  He didn’t blink. “I think your work is just fine, but I don’t relish the idea of working with you. We rub each other the wrong way, you and me. I don’t know why, but we do.”

  That about said it all. There wasn’t much she could add. So she stood with her hands buried deep in the pockets of her coat, wondering what he’d say next. He seemed bent on throwing darts at her. She imagined that if she let him do it enough, let him get every little gripe off his chest, they might finally be able to work together.

  Unfortunately, the darts stung.

  He stared at her for a long, silent time, just stared. Holding her chin steady and her spine straight, she stared right back.

  “Nothing to say?” he asked finally.

  “No.”

  He arched a brow. “Nothing at all?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then why are we here?”

  Chris felt a sudden rush of color to her face. “Uh, we’re here to discuss business,” she said, and hurried to gather her thoughts. Something had happened. Gideon’s eyes must have momentarily numbed her mind. “I want to see where you’re at with the condos. I thought maybe I could get a bead on things like roofing materials, stairway styles and so on.” She stopped, took a deep breath, recomposed herself. “But I told you all that when I called. You were the one who said we should walk through what you’ve done.” She gestured in the direction of the duck pond. “Can we?”

  He shrugged. “Sure.” He turned back toward his truck. “Climb in. I’ll drive you down.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll follow in my car.”

  He stopped and turned back. “Climb in. I’ll drive you back here when we’re done.”

  “That’s not necessary,” she said, but there was a challenge in his look. She wasn’t sure whether it had to do with the idea of their being alone in the cab of a pickup or the idea of her climbing into
a pickup, period, but in either case she had a point to make. “Okay. Let me get my purse.” Crossing the driveway to her car, she took the large leather satchel in which she carried pen and paper, along with other necessities of life such as a wallet, tissues, lip gloss and appointment book. Hitching the bag to her shoulder, she grabbed her earmuffs and mittens. Then, putting on a show of confidence, she walked to the passenger’s side of the truck, opened the door and climbed up.

  “That was smooth,” Gideon remarked.

  She settled herself as comfortably as she could, given that she felt rattled. “My father is an electrician. I’ve been riding around in trucks all my life.” And she knew how intimate they could be. A truck was like a man’s office, filled with personal belongings, small doodads, tokens of that man’s life. It also had his scent. Gideon’s was clean, vaguely leathery, distantly coffee flavored, thanks to a half-filled cup on the console, and overwhelmingly male. She felt surrounded by it, so much so that it was a struggle to concentrate on what he was saying.

  “Funny, you don’t look like the type.”

  She swallowed. “What type?”

  “To have an electrician for a father. I’d have thought your old man would be the CEO of some multinational corporation. Not an electrician.”

  Another dart hit home. She bristled. “There’s nothing wrong with being an electrician. My father is honest and hardworking. He takes pride in what he does. I’m proud of what he does. And who are you to say something like that?”

  “You asked. I answered.” He shrugged. “I still don’t peg you as the type to be around trucks.”

  “You think I’m lying?”

  “No. But I think you could.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That I’d more easily believe you if you said you’ve had a silver spoon in your mouth for most of your life, got bored with doing nothing, so decided to dabble around as a decorator. Real estate and interior decorating—those are the two fields women go into when they want people to think they’re aggressive little workers.”

  That dart hurt more than the others, no doubt because she was already bruised. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

  “If the shoe fits, wear it.”

  His smug look did it. Turning to face him head-on, she said, “Well, it doesn’t. And, quite frankly, I resent your even suggesting it. I work hard, probably harder than you do, and so do most of the women I know in either of the fields you mentioned. We have to work twice as hard to get half the respect, thanks to people like you.” She took a fast breath. “And as for ‘types,’ I didn’t have a silver spoon in my mouth at birth or at any other time in my life. My parents couldn’t afford silver, or silk, or velvet, but they gave me lots and lots of love, which is clearly something you know nothing about. I feel badly for your wife, or your woman, whoever the hell it is you go home to at night.” She reached for the door. “I’ll take my own car, after all. Being cooped up in a truck with you is oppressive.” In a second, she was out the door and looking back at him. “Better still, I think maybe we’d better do this another time. I’m feeling a little sick to my stomach.”

  Slamming the door, she stalked back to her car. She was trembling, and though she doubted he could see, she wouldn’t have cared. She felt pervasive anger and incredible hurt, neither of which abated much as she sped back to Belmont. By the time she was back in her office, sitting at her desk with the door closed on the rest of the world, she was also feeling humiliated.

  He’d won. He’d badgered her and she’d crumbled. She couldn’t believe she’d done that. She prided herself on being strong. Lord knows, she’d had to overcome adversity to get where she was. She’d faced critics far more personal and cutting than Gideon Lowe and survived. With him, though, she’d fallen apart.

  She was ashamed of herself.

  She was also frightened. She wanted, needed to do Crosslyn Rise. By running, she may well have blown her credibility. If she’d thought working with Gideon was going to be hard before, it could well be impossible now. He’d seen her weakness. He could take advantage of it.

  He could also spread word among the consortium members about what had happened, but she doubted he’d do that. He wasn’t exactly an innocent party. He wouldn’t want the others to know of his part. He had an image to protect, too.

  Then again, he could lie. He could tell them that she made appointments, showed up, then took off minutes later. He could say that she wasted his time. He could suggest that she was mentally unbalanced.

  If he spread that kind of word around, she’d be in a serious fix. Crosslyn Rise was supposed to make her career, not break it!

  What to do, what to do. She sat at her desk with her feet flat on the floor, her knees pressed together, her elbows on the glass surface, her clasped hands pressed to her mouth, and wondered about that. She could call Jessica, she supposed. But she’d done that once regarding Gideon. To do it again would be tattling. Worse, it would smack of cowardice. Jessica might well begin to wonder what kind of woman she’d hired.

  Nor could she call Carter. Gideon was his friend.

  And she certainly couldn’t call Gideon. They’d only get into another fight.

  But she had to do something. She’d committed herself to Crosslyn Rise. Her reputation, her future was on the line.

  The phone rang. She watched the flashing light turn solid when Margie picked it up. Distractedly she glanced at the handful of pink slips on the desk, all telephone messages waiting to be answered. She shuffled them around. Nothing interesting caught her eye.

  The intercom buzzed. “Chris, you have a call from a Gideon Lowe. Do you want to take it, or should I take a message?”

  Gideon Lowe. Chris’s pulse skittered, then shot ahead. She didn’t want to talk with him now. She was still stinging from his last shots. And embarrassed. And confused. And feeling less sure of herself than she had in years and years.

  Did she want to take the phone? No! But that was foolish.

  Bolstering herself with a deep breath, she said to Margie, “I’ll take it.” But she didn’t pick up Gideon’s call immediately. It took a few deep breaths, plus several seconds with her eyes shut tight before she felt composed enough. Even then, her finger shook when she punched in the button.

  “Yes, Gideon.” She wanted to sound all business. To her own ear though, she sounded frightened, just as she was feeling inside. She waited for him to blast her about driving off, leaving their meeting almost before it had begun. But he didn’t say a thing. She looked at the telephone, thinking that maybe they’d been cut off. “Hello?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said in as quiet a tone as she’d heard from him yet. “That was not very nice of me. I shouldn’t have said those things. Any of them.”

  “Then why did you?” she cried, only then realizing how personally she’d taken his barbs. She didn’t understand why they bothered her so, since she and Gideon weren’t anything more to each other than two people temporarily working together. But the fact was that they did, and she was upset enough to lose the cool she’d struggled to gain in the moments before she’d picked up the phone.

  “Do you have something special against me?” she asked. “Have I ever done anything to you that warrants what you’ve been doing? I mean, I wandered innocently onto the site one day and was standing there, minding my own business, when your men saw me and botched the work they were doing. Forget that it wasn’t my fault. I apologized, but it didn’t make any difference. You’ve had it in for me ever since. Am I missing something here? Do I remind you of someone else, maybe someone unpleasant, someone who hurt you once, or who let you down? Why do you hate me?”

  She ran out of breath. In the silence that ensued, she heard all that she’d blurted out and was appalled. She’d blown professionalism to bits, but then, that was something she seemed to do a lot in Gideon’s company. She was debating hanging up the phone and burying her head in the trash can when he spoke again. His voice was still
low. He actually sounded troubled.

  “I don’t hate you. I just look at you and … something happens. I can’t explain it. Believe me, I’ve been trying. I’ve worked with lots of people over the years, lots of women, and I’ve never been this way before. People usually think I’m easygoing.”

  Chris recalled Jessica saying something to that extent. She hadn’t believed it then, and she didn’t believe it now. “Easygoing, like an angry bull,” she murmured.

  “I heard that. But it’s okay. I deserve it.”

  In response to the confession, she softened a bit. “If you’ve never been this way before, then it’s me. What is it I’m doing wrong? I’m trying. Really I am. I’m trying to be agreeable. I felt we should talk, because that’s part of my job, and when you wanted to meet at the site, I agreed, even though it wasn’t my first choice. I try to overlook some of the things you say, but they hurt, you know. I’m not a shallow person. I haven’t gotten anything in life for free. I work hard at what I do, and I’m proud of that. So why do I annoy you so much?”

  He was a minute in answering, and then he didn’t get out more than a word when he was cut off by the operator. “All right, all right,” he muttered. “Hold on Chris.”

  She was puzzled. “Where are you?”

  She heard the clink of coins, then, “At a pay phone in town. The phones have been taken out at the Rise, and none of the ones on the street take credit cards. Can you believe that? We’re building a complex that’s state-of-the-art as far as living goes, in the middle of a town that’s old-fashioned as hell. I’m probably gonna have to get a car phone before this project is done.”

  “Truck phone.”

  “Hmm?”

  She sat back in her chair. “You drive a truck. Wouldn’t you call it a truck phone?”

  “I don’t know. Do they? The guys who make them?”

  “Beats me.”

  “You don’t have a phone in your car?”

  “No. They’re expensive. Besides, I like silence when I drive. It gives me a chance to think.”