Читать книгу But Not For Me - Annette Broadrick, Annette Broadrick - Страница 12

Rachel kept her eyes closed and gratefully clasped Brad’s hand during the landing. She no longer cared if she saved face or not. She’d given herself away on this flight and there was no going back.

Once the plane taxied to a hangar and stopped, Brad said, “You can open your eyes now.” When she opened them Brad was watching her with a revolting grin on his face. “It’s all right, Rachel. We’re safely down and I really need my hand to unbuckle my seat belt.”

She was mortified. She jerked her hand away from his and fumbled to release herself from the seat. He rose and held out his hand to her.

“Ready?” he asked with what she felt was undue amusement dancing in his eyes.

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” she asked, ignoring his hand while she slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder and stood.

“You have to admit there aren’t many times when I see you less than your competent, professional self. At least let me enjoy it for a few minutes.”

She picked up her briefcase, walked past him and headed to the door that the pilot had opened. “Live it up,” she muttered crossly and gave the pilot a dazzling smile to make certain he knew that she wasn’t disgruntled because of him.

Halfway down the steps, Rachel spotted Carl leaning against a late-model Jeep that she now remembered he’d driven from home. She waved with a sense of relief disproportionate to the moment, she knew, but she didn’t care.

She’d had a rough day. Brad’s ridiculous insistence that he protect her had only added to her stress. At least Carl would be there to lend her emotional support if she needed to distance herself from Brad during this trip.

Carl was in his mid-fifties, with a thick head of blindingly white hair. He was gruff, tough and highly competent. He was also a teddy bear. She’d never forget his beaming face last year when he’d come to the office with photos of his first grandchild, a brand-new little girl. He’d insisted that Chrissie looked exactly like her mother—his daughter—when she was born. All Rachel saw was a red face, squinting eyes and fists clenched as though the infant was ready to take on the world.

Once her feet touched the solid tarmac she gave a huge sigh of relief and headed toward Carl without checking to see if Brad was behind her.

When she reached the Jeep, Carl straightened from his leaning position and gave her a quick hug. “It’s great to see you, Carl,” she said.

He pulled his head back and looked at her. “You look a little green around the gills, honey. What’s the boss been doing to you?” he asked with concern.

Brad spoke from somewhere behind her. “Forcing her to fly, it appears. Can’t imagine how she’s managed to hide that particular fear from me all these years.” The two men shook hands.

While everyone got into the Jeep, Carl said, “I’ll admit I was surprised to hear that you were bringing Rachel. I wondered if you thought you couldn’t face Mrs. Crossland without help.”

Rachel was thankful to be sitting directly behind Brad. She grinned without fear of his spotting her amusement. She glanced to the front and caught Carl’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He winked before returning his gaze to the road.

“Rachel needed to get out of town for a few days,” Brad said casually. “We were discussing the matter when you called. I decided this would be a good way to deal with both situations at the same time.”

Once again Carl’s gaze met hers in the mirror. “What’s been happening while I’ve been away?”

She gave her head a slight shake before saying, “Oh, I was just asking for some time off.” She gave him a smile of reassurance, then blinked in surprise when Carl laughed uproariously as though thinking of some private joke.

“Well, that certainly explains Brad’s panic,” Carl said after a moment. “Rachel, don’t you know the whole company would collapse without you to run interference with the boss for the rest of us?”

Brad turned his head toward Carl, giving Rachel a view of his distinctive profile. If possible, his strong jaw seemed more pronounced when he said, “You don’t seem to have trouble dealing with me without Rachel’s help.” His drawl was more pronounced.

Ah, so Carl’s remark had pushed one of Brad’s buttons.

Carl continued to watch the road as they barreled down the highway. “Well, yeah, but that’s because I can always retire when you decide to fire me.”

Brad snorted. “That’ll be the day. I can see you staying at home playing with that grandbaby of yours all day. You’d be chomping at the bit looking for a little excitement within a week.”

Carl laughed again. “Maybe so. Never can tell until I’ve tried it, though.” Then in a more serious voice, he asked, “You want to hear about Mrs. Crossland’s complaints?”

Brad shook his head. “Not until we get settled in. Is there going to be room for us at the condo you rented?”

Carl nodded. “You bet. There’s three bedrooms, three baths. The place is cantilevered down a rather steep hill overlooking the resort’s golf course, so there’s a master bedroom at the very top, living-dining area and kitchen on the middle level, and the other two bedrooms are on the lowest floor. Every bedroom has a great view. It won’t take me long to move my things out of the top bedroom.”

“Nonsense. Stay where you are. We won’t be here long enough for you to inconvenience yourself. I’m sure the other bedrooms will work out fine.”

Carl risked another glance at the rearview mirror and raised his brows slightly. Rachel smiled and gave a slight nod of reassurance. So, she thought, amused. Carl was looking out for her, was he? Frankly, Rachel didn’t care where she slept. Despite the early hour—the sun was still up—she was more than ready to call it a day and to seek the sweet oblivion of sleep.

“Sounds like you found a great place to stay while you’re here,” Brad said, glancing at the passing rural landscape.

“It’s the nicest thing about the job at the moment. Did you know that the condo overlooks Lake Lure? I’ve been told that a few movies have been filmed in the area.”

Rachel leaned forward. “Really? Which ones?”

“I can think of a couple— Dirty Dancing and Last of the Mohicans. I get the impression the locals are pleased to share that information with the tourists who visit in droves each summer.” After a moment Carl continued. “Too bad I don’t play golf. I would have been out on the course this week just to let off steam. It would have been great to picture Mrs. Crossland’s face on each golf ball every time I swung.”

Brad relaxed against his seat and chuckled. “Why Carl, I’m beginning to think that maybe you don’t like our client’s wife.”

“She’s an interfering, annoying irritant that I could certainly do without. It’s difficult to find skilled construction people out here in the hills. What I don’t need is for Mrs. Crossland to run them off with her withering remarks and snobbish criticisms about the work being done.”

“Has that become a problem?” Brad asked, straightening.

“The best carpenter I have—a local whose cabinet-work would make a grown man cry tears of appreciation—stomped off the job just before I called you today saying he wasn’t going to work another minute if that woman insisted on coming to the site every day. There were others mumbling about following him. That’s when I called you.”

“Okay. I’ll deal with it. Does she know I’m here?”

“Nope. The less I say to the woman, the easier it is for me to control my temper. She has no idea how much forbearance I’ve shown since she arrived.”

The men lapsed into silence when Carl turned off the interstate highway and followed winding two-lane roads that reminded Rachel of an earlier era—a time when people relaxed after a day of work, unaware of the term stress. Maybe Brad had been right to bring her. She might decide to stay in North Carolina for a while when Brad returned to Texas.

She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, feeling herself relax for the first time in several hours.

The sound of Carl’s voice woke her some time later when she heard him say, “Hell, Brad, what have you been doing to her, working her to death?”

Rachel sat up and looked around. They were no longer moving. Instead, the Jeep was parked in a large lot surrounded by condominium units. The view of the surrounding area was spectacular. The distant hills and a brief view of the lake looked like a backdrop to a movie set. No wonder the film industry had decided to use the place.

Brad held out his hand and assisted her from the back seat.

“Wow,” she said reverently. “Why haven’t I ever heard about this place?”

Carl grinned. “It’s the state’s best-kept secret. Everyone who discovers it is loath to have others discover it and move here as well.”

Brad stretched and asked, “Which unit is yours?”

Carl nodded his head to the building directly in front of them. “The first one in that building.” He paused, leaning into the Jeep to look around. “Did you forget your bags on the plane?” he asked, only now aware that all they carried were briefcases.

“Nope,” Brad said, striding toward the condo. “I figured we could pick up whatever we need somewhere around here.”

Carl turned to Rachel. “Is he kidding?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Wish he’d said something before we left Asheville. The closest town with a shopping mall is about twenty-five miles away.”

She sighed. “I’m not sure I can make it. I really am exhausted.”

“Not to hurt your feelings or anything, but you do look a little weary.” He watched Brad start up the walkway. “We better let him in before he starts yelling for the key. Come on, maybe I have something you can wear to tide you over till morning.”

If she weren’t so tired, Rachel would have laughed at the idea of six-foot-four-inch, two-hundred-forty-pound Carl helping her out in the clothes department.

“I may take you up on that,” she finally said, walking with him to the door. “A T-shirt would be welcome for me to use tonight.”

She and Carl joined Brad at the front door. Carl opened it and the three of them walked inside. The first thing she saw were two sets of stairways, one leading downward, the other one going up.

Carl led the way upstairs to two rooms that were divided by a large stone fireplace. Each room had large sliding doors at the other end that led onto a railed balcony.

“Not too shabby, Carl,” Brad said after a soft whistle. “I admire your taste.”

“The only reason I took this place was that the house we’re building is no more than ten minutes away. This was the most convenient rental available.”

Rachel looked around with interest. The place was fully furnished, including kitchen supplies. The dark-red carpet looked regal. There was a television set as well as a VCR. All the comforts of home, she thought.

Carl turned and pointed upward. “I sleep up there. The view’s terrific, as you can imagine.”

Brad and Rachel dutifully turned toward the stairway that stretched to yet another floor. They realized that the bedroom on the top floor was the size of the combined rooms where they stood, except for a small landing at the top of the stairs.

“There’s a smaller balcony up there, as well,” Carl said.

Rachel went back down the steps to the lowest floor. There was a closed door on each side of the hallway. She opened one and peeked in. She saw a bedroom with the same view of the hills and lake. She turned and opened the other door, which revealed an identical bedroom.

She had no idea which room Brad might want, but decided not to worry about it. She walked into the one to the left and closed the door, leaning against it with a sense of relief.

She shook her head and pushed herself away from the door. With her purse still hanging from her shoulder, Rachel walked into the large bathroom, which had a shower separate from the Jacuzzi-type tub.

She placed her purse on the counter and emptied it. She had the toiletry bag that contained a toothbrush and paste she’d purchased at the airport before Brad hauled her away from the public area to where the company plane awaited.

Thank goodness she carried moisturizing cream, a small brush and comb and a few items of makeup in her purse. They would get her through the next few hours.

Her suit looked tired, she thought, staring into the mirror ruefully. It wouldn’t have taken her more than a few minutes to gather a few things if Brad hadn’t been in such a hurry.

He didn’t have a problem. Once on the plane he’d mentioned the items of clothing he kept in his briefcase. He could be so infuriating at times. What could he be thinking to drag her to North Carolina? She had no reason to go to the site or sit in on meetings Brad might have with the clients.

Oh, well, none of that mattered now. She was here. She might as well make the best of it.

Rachel systematically removed and folded each item of apparel before she turned on the stinging spray in the shower. After she adjusted the temperature, she pulled the pins from her hair, and then stepped into the shower.

She couldn’t remember enjoying anything quite this much, she thought, as she allowed the water to flow over her head and body. The rental management had provided bath and face soap, as well as small bottles of shampoo and conditioner.