Читать книгу I Do! I Do! - Pamela Toth - Страница 9

Chapter Two

Mitch sat in his leather office chair frowning at the invitation to DJ Traub’s wedding. It wasn’t that Mitch begrudged DJ the happiness of marrying a woman he so obviously loved—it was just that he hated attending social functions by himself.

He slipped the invitation back into its matching envelope and tossed it into the top drawer of his desk. Glancing impatiently at the clock on the opposite wall, which had been made from a thin slice of Montana granite, he slid back his chair and got to his feet.

This was Lizbeth’s first day and she would be here at any moment. Convincing her to come to work for him hadn’t been easy, but she’d finally agreed to give her notice at the Lounge.

Mitch hadn’t been surprised to get an angry phone call that same day from Grant, accusing him of stealing the best bartender on staff. Lucky for Mitch that his friendship with Clifton went back far enough that the other man had calmed down almost immediately, even though he had acquired the reputation of being a real hard-ass. With a knowing chuckle, Grant even warned him about getting involved with a woman like Liz.

“It’s strictly business,” Mitch had replied without a twinge of guilt, “but if I do need dating advice, I’ll be sure to come to you first.”

It was no secret among the guys that Grant himself had at one time pretended a romantic interest in Lizbeth in order to make Stephanie Julen jealous. Perhaps he’d forgotten his little ploy, since he persuaded Steph to marry him, but Mitch hadn’t.

Restlessly, he sat back down and picked up a trade magazine. He was flipping through the pages when Suzy’s perky voice came over his intercom. She’d agreed to stay on for a few more days until Liz was comfortable.

“Boss, you said to let you know when Ms. Stanton arrived. She’s getting out of her Jeep right now.”

“Okay, thanks.” As he got to his feet and circled his desk, he could feel the same adrenaline rush he got whenever he began a new project. Well, in a crazy way, getting to know Lizbeth better on his own turf was a project of sorts, one he hoped would become a rousing success.

By the time he walked down the short hallway to the reception area adjacent to the showroom, Lizbeth was coming through the glass front door. Even though he recognized her, he nearly did a double-take.

The brightly colored butterfly who had previously captured his attention had evolved into a dull brown moth.

Lizbeth must have noticed his expression, because her smile faded. “I was supposed to start today, wasn’t I?” she asked hesitantly. “I thought you said to come in on Monday.”

Mitch gathered his scattered wits and hurried forward, hand extended. “Of course,” he exclaimed with a heartiness that sounded false to his own ears. “You’re right on time, isn’t she, Suzy?”

The younger girl bobbed her head. “Absolutely,” she agreed with an uncomplicated grin. “We start work at eight sharp.”

Lizbeth appeared relieved as she slipped off her tan coat. “Is there somewhere I can put this?”

“Shall I show her?” Suzy asked Mitch while he wondered what had happened to the brightly streaked auburn hair that was currently fastened into a tidy knot on top of Lizbeth’s head. Its severity went all too well with her dark brown jacket, matching slacks and low-heeled shoes, all proof of just how seriously she took her new job.

She was still beautiful, especially when she smiled, but he’d grown fond of her more eccentric appearance. It seemed like part of her personality, so perhaps that would be more subdued as well. He was curious to find out.

“No, that’s okay,” he told Suzy, who waited expectantly. “I’ll show her.” He indicated that his new assistant proceed him down the hall. “This way.”

After Lizbeth had hung up her coat, he introduced her to the bookkeeper, who handed her some payroll forms to fill out.

“When she’s done, bring her to my office,” he told Nita. If the older woman thought it was odd that Mitch was showing Lizbeth around personally, she didn’t let on. After all, it was a small office and Liz was going to report directly to him.

“Sure thing,” she said instead, handing Lizbeth a pen.

Once he was back behind his desk, Mitch swiveled his chair around so he could stare out the window at the view of jagged mountains. The sight never failed to remind him of his relative insignificance compared to such timeless grandeur. In the face of it, whatever he was wrestling with usually shrunk to manageable proportions.

Today the view barely registered as he stared blindly. Had he forgotten that this butterfly he’d hoped to impress with his success was a real person, with desires and ambitions of her own? Had he given a thought to what she might want when he had concocted this harebrained scheme?

A knock on his open door interrupted his silent self-condemnation. Swapping out his frown for a more welcoming expression, he got to his feet.

“Lizbeth, come on in,” he invited.

“Remember, I prefer Liz if you don’t mind,” she said softly. “And what should I call you now that you’re my boss?”

“I’m still just Mitch,” he replied. “We’re a pretty informal bunch here and a few of my people have been with me since the beginning.”

“I hope you’ll have the time to tell me about it.” She hovered just inside the door, hands clasped loosely in front of her.

Silently he reminded himself that she was probably trying to make a few points, but that she wouldn’t really be interested in the details of how he’d built Cates International from the ground up.

“For now let’s take a quick look at the shop,” he suggested. “I’ll introduce you to the foreman and the warehouse manager.”

By the time Liz got home to her sister’s cabin that evening, she was tired but elated. Everyone she’d met today seemed so nice. Especially Mitch.

As far as she knew, he was still single. The old Liz would have been focused on getting him to ask her out. Resisting his tall, dark and possibly dangerous appeal wasn’t going to be easy, but she was determined to keep this relationship professional.

After she had set down her purse and the bag from the local teriyaki take-out, she hung her new coat on a hook next to the door. The cabin didn’t provide any closets, just a tiny wardrobe in the single bedroom. Maybe someday she would move into town, but giving up the quiet setting and spectacular scenery wouldn’t be easy unless her sister and brother-in-law decided that they wanted the cabin for themselves. Meanwhile, Liz intended to focus all of her energy on learning everything she could about Cates International.

Liz’s third day on the job was her first without Suzy running interference. So far her duties had been light. Despite what Mitch had told her previously, if he was around he usually answered his own phone and took care of his own e-mails. She was beginning to wonder if there would be enough work to keep her busy.

When he came down the hall from his office, she was studying their catalog. Unlike yesterday when he’d been dressed in a dark gray suit for his meeting with the manager of the local bank, today he wore snug jeans and a green knit shirt. On the chest pocket, the company name was stitched in gold. The shirt was just like the one she had seen Nita wearing on Monday, except that on Mitch it looked a hundred times better.

She tried to ignore the sizzle of awareness. For a businessman, he was in great shape. Before she had thought of him as a somber, rather shy individual who came into the lounge for an occasional beer. Now she realized that while he lacked Marshall’s outgoing, sometimes overwhelming charisma, Mitch’s quiet confidence was in its own way even more appealing.

“How’s it been going?” he asked when he saw her. “Are you doing okay?”

“I feel guilty for not working harder,” she admitted.

A couple of times in the last two days she had caught him studying her with a speculative expression. She was used to having men watch her, but not the way Mitch did, as though he was trying to figure out what made her tick. She had yet to decide if it made her uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry about not having enough to do,” he said. “You’ll more than make up for it before the trade shows.” One of the things he’d asked was whether she minded working overtime or traveling on business. For some reason, it hadn’t occurred to her that she might be accompanying him on those trips.

“Is it okay if I help Nita?” she asked. “I saw a stack of filing in her office.”

He shrugged, thumbs hooked into his wide leather belt. “Sure, that would be fine. Before you do, though, I was going to show you my shop.”

Liz grinned up at him, nearly batting her eyes from sheer habit. “Have you forgotten that you showed me the shop on my first day?”

The term didn’t begin to describe the large manufacturing floor where several workers had been busy assembling one of the various models of the Cates “cow-tipper.”

Mitch cocked his head as an answering smile spread to his eyes, making them glow from within. “Ah, that’s true, but you haven’t seen my personal shop, though.”

“That’s where the miracles happen,” Nita exclaimed in a dry voice that startled Liz. Mitch must not have heard her approach either, because he seemed to jerk away from Liz’s desk and color stained his cheeks.

“Miracles?” Liz echoed, looking from one to the other with a questioning expression.

If Nita had been closer to Mitch’s age, Liz might have wondered if the two shared a history that included more than merely business. She must be imagining things.

“My shop is where I tinker,” he explained. “Where I work on new ideas.”

Liz had known from reading the company history on their Web site that Mitch had an engineering background, but she hadn’t really pictured him doing any of the actual creating.

“I’d like to see it,” she replied.

“Nita, did you need something?” Mitch asked as Liz pushed back her chair and got to her feet.

“I was going to ask Liz for her size so we can order her some company shirts. They take a couple of weeks to get here.”

His gaze flickered over her body, then at his own feet. “Not my area of expertise,” he muttered, his sudden discomfiture reminding her of the way he’d usually acted when she waited on him at the resort. “Uh, I forgot something in my office,” he continued. “Be right back.”

As he hurried away, Liz and Nita exchanged amused glances. “I love it when he gets rattled,” Nita said in a low voice, looking extremely pleased. “He’s a great guy and it doesn’t happen often, but sometimes he needs to have his control tweaked.”

“Most of the guys I’ve known would offer to do the measuring personally,” Liz replied dryly. “And I wear a medium.”

“Okay.” Nita shook her head. “Mitch isn’t that way. I’ve been here since the beginning and I’ve never seen him cross that line. Everyone who works here knows that kind of thing isn’t tolerated.” She glanced over her shoulder, lowering her voice even more. “Trust me, his first love is the business. You don’t have a thing to worry about in that department.”

Nita’s words should have reassured the new and improved Liz, but what she felt was disappointment. Was she attracted to him despite her best efforts?

“Good to know,” she replied calmly just as he reappeared.

“To know what?” he asked.

“I was just telling her that the medical insurance takes effect in thirty days,” Nita replied innocently. “Well, I’ve got to get back to work or the boss will be after me.” She winked at Liz. “I’ll order your shirts. Let me know if you have any more questions about the benefits package.”

“Sure thing,” Liz replied. “Thanks.”

“Okay, shall we go?” Mitch held open the heavy door to the manufacturing area with its noisy machines, loud music and raised voices. Just inside the door was a rack holding hard hats. When she reached for a bright yellow one as she had on her first day, he stretched his hand above her head and took down a green one.

“This is what a Cates employee wears,” he said, handing it to her.

Her name was printed in gold above the molded brim.

“Thank you.” Cautiously she set it on her upswept hair. Funny how having a hat with her name on it made her feel like one of the team.

As a time clock mounted on the wall next to a rack of cards clicked over, he donned a matching hat that looked slightly beat up. “This way.”

Mitch had to bite his tongue to keep himself from telling Lizbeth how cute she looked in her new headgear. He’d thought getting to know her would be easier on his home turf, but she still intimidated him.

Like a little boy showing off a birdhouse he’d constructed from popsicle sticks, he took out a key ring. Unlocking a door in the wall, he led her to the place where his ideas took shape. If she was bored silly, it would probably serve him right for thinking a woman like her would find it—or him—interesting.

Their gazes met as he opened the door and let her go ahead of him. What choice did he have but to try?

“Wow.” Slowly she turned in a circle as she looked around the clean, well-lit room. “I expected someplace dark and cluttered, but this looks more like a lab than an inventor’s workshop.”

His gaze followed hers. On the wall above the spacious counter were assorted hand tools. A rack held blueprints and specs. File cabinets lined the short wall next to a small beat-up desk, bare except for a computer. Across from it was a drafting table. Nothing was out of place.

“I guess I’m a little obsessive when it comes to where I work,” he said apologetically.

Great, now she thought he was some kind of oddball neat freak. He’d hoped she might view him as fascinating and clever, not as the nutty professor.

“I confess, I’m with you,” she said, surprising him. “I just can’t stand having a lot of stuff every-where. It just makes me crazy.” When she leaned closer, the scent he’d learned to associate with her teased his nostrils. “Want to know something?”

“Uh-huh.” He bobbed his head.

“I’m a secret organizer,” she whispered conspiratorially. “I go crazy in those container stores.”

“I…I’ll have to check one out,” he said.

The door was shut to keep out the noise and dust from the main area. Maybe being alone with her in here wasn’t such a good idea.

She looked around curiously, her slim hands resting on her hips. Today she wore navy blue slacks and a man-tailored light blue shirt that failed to disguise her curves. Even now, more simply dressed and wearing little if any cosmetics, she made his breath catch.

He’d be in serious trouble if he had to spend forty plus hours a week in a constant state of awareness, with the blood flow to his brain seriously diminished.

“What does this do?” she asked, indicating a small drill press.

Briefly he explained. “Most of the actual machining is done out there. No point in duplicating equipment.”

“You love it, don’t you?” she guessed. “All this, it’s not just a job, a business. It’s a passion with you.”

“Everyone should work at what they love,” he replied. “What good is success if you aren’t happy?”

“Exactly!” She looked pleased. “That’s what I want, to feel that way about what I do and to work at a job I believe in.”

He studied her, reminded that there was more to her than dark flashing eyes and a shape to make a man weep. “Do you think you can find that here, or is it too soon to tell?”

When she grinned, he pretended it was for the man and not the boss.

“I’m hoping,” she replied. “I guess we’ll find out.”

He thought about tossing caution aside and kissing her, but he’d never gained anything worthwhile by plunging ahead without a plan. Glad she couldn’t read his mind, he took her back to the office, breathing a sigh of relief when the reception desk was safely between them.

“I suppose you know that DJ and Allaire are getting married on Friday,” he began cautiously.

She took her seat, looking up at him warily. “Yes, I’d heard.” Something flickered in her eyes, making him wonder if she was over her broken engagement to Dax.

“He’s been my friend for a long time,” Mitch continued, “so I can’t miss it.”

Liz’s expression lost some of its wariness. “Of course not,” she echoed. “It should be a nice ceremony. I overheard at the beauty shop that Allaire’s going with a Parisian theme.”

“What the heck does that mean?” he blurted, genuinely puzzled. How did women come up with stuff like that? “A cake shaped like the Eiffel Tower?”

Liz burst into laughter. “I truly haven’t a clue. You’ll have to let me know.”

Under the circumstances, he wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t been invited. “They’re keeping it kind of small,” he explained hastily as a car door slammed out front.

He looked out the window. Damn, he’d forgotten all about his appointment with the rep from the new graphics company. It was local, which he preferred.

“That must be Jim Parks from Mountain Art,” Liz said after she’d glanced at her notepad. “Do you want to duck into your office real quick so I can show him back?”

What rotten timing.

“No, not necessary,” Mitch replied as the salesman, gray-haired with glasses, entered the building. “Jim,” he exclaimed, extending his hand. “I’m Mitchell Cates. Come on in.”

Liz didn’t talk to Mitch again all afternoon. Since she had nothing else to do, she did some research about the business on the Web. At least she might be able to ask Mitch some intelligent questions.

She saw the rep walk around from the main shop and get into his car, but her boss wasn’t with him. There was only so much a person could retain about farm equipment at one sitting and Nita was busy compiling a report. Time dragged.

Liz finally went to Mitch’s office on the pretext of asking if he wanted coffee, but he wasn’t in. On a sideboard rested a photo of his poker group seated around a picnic table. It was the same guys who had been at the party she’d crashed; Mitch, Marshall, Russ, Grant, DJ and Dax.

For a moment, she stared down at the picture. Not wanting to get caught prowling Mitch’s office, she went back out to her desk, but her mind stayed on Dax, her former fiancé. If he was already seeing someone else, Liz hadn’t heard about it yet.

With a sudden burst of insight, she realized that she didn’t care. Dax had wounded her pride, but not her heart. She hadn’t loved him, not really. Aside from the embarrassment of being rather publicly dumped, Liz owed him a debt of gratitude. If not for their breakup, she might have eventually found herself in a loveless marriage. She wouldn’t have realized that she deserved more out of life than Dax could give her. She certainly wouldn’t have embarked on a new career path.

Not when her main goal had been a big fancy wedding with the perfect dress, tons of flowers and all the rest of the pomp and circumstance that went with it. For years she had spent untold hours reading bridal magazines and looking at Web sites, studying rings and bridesmaid dresses, bouquets and cakes.

She had pictured the actual event so many times in her head that it almost seemed real. She could see herself floating up the length of white carpet toward the altar. In the glow of a thousand candles, she struggled to see her groom’s face clearly, tall and dark—

“Ah, I’m glad you’re still here,” Mitch exclaimed, startling her out of her daydream. “I wanted to ask…about DJ’s wedding…would you go with me?”