Читать книгу A Colorado Match - Deb Kastner - Страница 10

Vince was livid. Nate was grinning as smugly as the proverbial cat that had eaten an entire cage of canaries, and Melanie was staring at Vince as if he were her next challenging project.

Which he wasn’t. He was already shaking his head to the contrary.

“Just hear her out,” Nate appealed earnestly, which only served to make Vince even more stiff-necked about whatever was going on. If it was Nate’s idea, it was a bad one. He didn’t need Melanie to explain that to him.

“Boulder Business Services,” Melanie said, jumping in on the tail of Nate’s comment, “offers consulting services to businesses ranging from small family-owned operations, to large corporate entities. I can assure you we’re the best firm in the business, and of course I can offer you a list of references if you’d like.”

Not necessary.

He didn’t need references because she wouldn’t be working here. He was convinced this was just another one of Nate’s shenanigans meant to get on Vince’s nerves, and it wasn’t going to work. Not this time.

For Melanie’s sake, he would be polite, but only until he figured out a way to turn her down without hurting her feelings. She seemed to be a nice enough woman, and it infuriated him that Nate would put her in the middle of their feud without regard to her point of view.

“Consulting?” he asked aloud, stalling for time while he thought of a solution to this problem.

“From what I’ve read in my file, you are a bit behind the times in some of your business practices,” she explained, her voice gaining momentum as she got into her subject, about which she was clearly enthusiastic. “First we’ll deal with the smaller organizational issues within your office, like your desk and filing system. Then I’ll help you streamline the majority of your work onto your computer, which will do wonders in regard to running your office more efficiently.”

She smiled confidently, first at Vince, then Nate, then back to Vince again. “I’m here to bring your business into the twenty-first century.”

Surely she must be aware that she sounded like a television infomercial. He wasn’t buying any of it; but if he was, her charming, toothy grin would be mighty persuasive.

What did that even mean, bringing his business into the twenty-first century? Did he really look that out of touch to her? Some hermit hiding in the woods?

And what was up with Nate, springing this woman and her consulting business on him and then waiting for him to work out the details?

Vince narrowed his gaze on Nate for a moment before he turned a polite smile on Melanie. “I appreciate your offer, but I don’t need any help. I run the business just fine on my own, thank you.”

“All on your own,” Nate qualified.

Vince didn’t say anything because family business was family business, but he thought the pointed, eyebrow-arching, And-why-would-that-be? look he gave Nate would be enough to put him in his place.

After all, it was Nate who’d irresponsibly ran off after high school, joined the Marines and left Vince alone to run the lodge by himself. He’d been left to cope with everything alone, and it was because of Nate.

Nate visibly winced and smiled sheepishly, and then nodded, silently acknowledging his faults. At least he had the good grace to realize how ironic his statement had been. Even so, as much as Nate might be helping out around the lodge recently—now that he’d supposedly returned home for good—Vince didn’t think it would last. Not with Nate. He couldn’t trust his brother as far as he could throw him—although he could still throw him.

“You won’t let Pop and me hire you a personal assistant,” Nate explained.

“Because we can’t afford it,” Vince said, becoming weary of this whole conversation, and wishing Melanie wasn’t present to hear any of it. He wasn’t the kind of man to air his dirty laundry publicly, be it family or business; and he found it rather humiliating that Nate heedlessly seemed determined to do just that.

“What would be the point? Why should I hire someone to do what I can do all by myself?”

“Says you,” countered Nate. “How long do you think you can keep up this pace all by yourself?”

Vince leveled a look on him. “As long as I have to.”

“You’re running yourself ragged,” Nate insisted, adamantly shaking his head.

“I have to agree with Nate,” Melanie chimed in.

Of course she did. Everyone always agreed with Nate. But this was none of her business, and Vince wanted to keep it that way.

“Look,” he said, making an awkward placating gesture that was cut short by his crutches, “No offense, Melanie, but your services really aren’t needed. I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing.”

Melanie leaned as far over the counter as her short frame would allow.

“I think Nate is right,” she repeated, as if Vince hadn’t heard her the first time around. “I really think I can help you.”

What was with everyone? He was being none-too-gently coerced into a corner and he knew it. They had his arm behind his back, figuratively speaking, and now they were starting to twist it tight.

Nate, Pop and now Melanie. He couldn’t argue with everyone.

But he had to try. And he knew just how to do it.

“We don’t have the money.” The lack of working capital was the basis for his original argument, and he decided he would stick with it.

Melanie wasn’t going to work for free.

“This is a ministry, not a multimillion-dollar corporation. The families of patients rehabilitating at the RMPR Hospital have enough to deal with without the burden of having to stay at an overpriced hotel.”

He saw the corners of Melanie’s lips turn down just slightly, and only for a second, but he knew he’d said something she didn’t want to hear. Probably that she wasn’t going to get paid.

“Good grief,” Melanie muttered under her breath. Or at least that was how it sounded to Vince.

“Sorry, bro,” Nate said with a laugh. “We’ve already thought of that—the money part of it, I mean. That’s why you’re getting a business consultant and not a personal assistant. This is a one-time thing, and I’m footing the bill for it out of my own savings.”

Vince wasn’t happy, and he wasn’t the least bit convinced about any of this, but with each passing second, it was becoming more difficult to find a way out of the predicament.

He sighed. “One day? One week? What?”

“One time,” Melanie corrected. “The entire process should take about six weeks, give or take.”

“Don’t be so hardheaded,” Nate said. “Will you just for once take something that someone is giving you and not put up such a fuss about it?”

Melanie gave a clipped little nod. Vince thought she might be agreeing with Nate.

Again.

“I don’t have the time,” he argued. “As you pointed out, my leg is in a cast. It’s going to take me longer to do things, even without having Melanie…here,” he finished lamely. He had been going to say underfoot, but that seemed a little too blunt, even for him.

“Make time,” Nate countered.

“And if I say no?” Vince knew it sounded like a taunt, and he was immediately convinced he shouldn’t have asked the question at all. Nate was gloating.

“I’ll force you. I’ve already paid the bill up front. You wouldn’t stiff me like that, would you?” Nate offered up his most placating smile.

Vince lifted an eyebrow and then shrugged. “You’re sure about that?”

“Maybe not, if it was just me,” Nate replied with a wicked smile. “But Pop agrees with me on this one. Give it up, bro. You’d better get used to the idea because you are officially out of options.”

Vince wanted to kick something, except that his leg was already in a cast and Melanie was still looking on. He could argue with Nate all day and night if he had to, but there was no way he would argue with his father.

The man was still in a wheelchair from a recent stroke, which was why Vince was doing all the work in the first place. Pop’s condition seemed to be improving now that Nate was home and had presented him with a granddaughter, but Vince didn’t want to take any chances with his father’s health.

Melanie cleared her throat and smiled, reminding the men of her presence.

Vince wanted to cringe. She’d been standing there the entire time, absorbing all this personal information about the two brothers without saying a single thing. How completely and utterly mortifying.

But she spoke now. “I promise I’ll make the process as painless as possible for you.”

“It’s for your own good,” Nate prodded.

Vince couldn’t stand Nate being the victor of this game, but neither could he see a way out of this predicament except by going through with it. And it was just like his brother to rub it in.

Vince had the uncomfortable inkling, like a wisp of cool air creeping up the back of his neck, that working with Melanie was going to be anything but painless. He sighed and, leaning heavily on his left crutch, pushed his glasses up his nose and scrubbed his fingers through his hair with his right hand.

His head hurt. His leg hurt.

And he’d officially been had.

Vince groaned and pulled up a three-legged stool, seating himself gingerly and leaning his elbows on the front counter at the main lodge. He wanted to cocoon himself in the back office, but there was no one at present to watch the desk. His leg was throbbing and itching and driving him crazy—but not as much as the woman determined to make his life easier.

He didn’t know how he was going to get any work done. He’d never been so distracted in his life. He sat for a good ten minutes staring at the same piece of paper and then realized he hadn’t yet read a word of it.

He kept thinking about Melanie. And it wasn’t just about the enormous disturbance she was going to create in his admittedly clutter-filled life over the next few weeks.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw a brilliant copper-eyed gaze, red curls and a freckled nose. Even the cute little quirk of her right eyebrow came to mind, and he didn’t know why.

Melanie Frazer was going to be nothing but trouble.

Worse yet, Nate had offered her a room at the lodge so she wouldn’t have to commute from Boulder. With Vince’s luck, she’d be tailing him everywhere, at all hours of the day. At the very least, he knew she was foaming at the mouth to get started organizing him. His shoulders tensed just thinking about it. He was a private person. His stuff was his stuff.

Scowling, he reached for the next stack of papers and stared unseeingly at the one on top. The bell over the front door rang, and he pulled in a breath and held it as he looked up, knowing it was going to be Melanie. Both a smile and a frown wrestled in his expression.

“I thought you might be hiding,” she teased as she brushed curls from her eyes with the palm of her hand. At least she had dressed more sensibly today, in khaki pants and a chocolate-brown sweater that complemented her eyes.

More to the point, she was wearing a pair of hiking boots—new ones, he judged thoughtfully. They’d probably give her a blister or two as she broke them in, but they were still better than high heels by a mile.

“What would be the point?” Vince’s smile was winning the war against the frown, despite his annoyance at Nate for getting him into this situation in the first place.

“Mmm,” she agreed, cocking her head to one side as she studied him. “Sensible man.”

Vince cringed inwardly, although he was careful not to let it show on his face. She was teasing him, of course, but the words hit home nonetheless.

A sensible man. He’d been called that before. It was practically his call sign. If he were charming and witty like his brother, he’d know how to handle a woman like Melanie, instead of tripping over his tongue—and his thoughts, for that matter—all the time.

Hogwash.

He didn’t want to be like Nate. He had enough to think about just being himself. He had a job to do, as did Melanie. And her job, the way he understood it, was to make a nuisance of herself. The sooner she realized he wasn’t the type of man to change things around on a whim, the better off they all would be.

It was as simple as that. Or not.

He reached for his crutches and hobbled to the door separating the front office from the main room. Melanie scrambled forward to help him hold the door, and then hovered near his elbow as he awkwardly hopped toward the furniture surrounding the central fireplace.

He didn’t know what she expected to be able to do if he lost his balance. A tiny little thing like her couldn’t possibly catch him from falling.

“The doctor says I have to keep this cast on for six weeks,” he said, trying for a conversational tone as he dropped to a seat on the sofa.

“It’s bright red,” she remarked, staring at his fluorescent cast.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a chuckle, thinking more of the color of her hair than of his cast. “They have all kinds of nifty colors to choose from these days.”

“Does it hurt?” She took a seat next to him on the couch and crossed her feet at the ankles.

“It itches. I’ll live. Six weeks, if I’m on good behavior.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The cast. I’ll get it off in six weeks.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding relieved. “For a moment there I thought you were talking about me.”

Vince shook his head. He was thinking about her, but he wasn’t talking about her.

“Good, because you’re not getting rid of me.”

She was almost as blunt and straight-to-the-point as he was, and it took him aback. He stared at her for a long moment, wondering if there was anything he could say to dissuade her from her purpose.

From the look on her face, not much. Unless, of course, he could convince her she was wasting her time.

Which shouldn’t be that hard to do, all things being equal. His daily life was anything but glamorous; and really, having a cast on his leg wasn’t any huge hindrance to the mountains of paperwork on his desk that he had to tackle this afternoon. How exciting was that? She’d soon find that there was little she could do to remove the mind-numbing pace of running the lodge, and his business system, while not as up-to-date as she’d no doubt like to see it, worked for him.

More or less.

Maybe she would see he was hopeless and just leave him alone. His work—his life—could be summed up in three words: boring, tedious and dull. Okay, and maybe unsystematic, but certainly not chaotic.

For the tiniest moment he wished he had something exciting going on in his life, something that would spark the interest of a beautiful, successful woman like Melanie.

Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen. Besides, it was the lodge she was interested in—not him personally. He scoffed internally at his own foolish musings.

Better she learned the truth up front. And better he keep his mind where it belonged—on the lodge.

And not on a certain redhead.