Читать книгу Christmas Wishes & Mistletoe Kisses - Susan Meier - Страница 11

DREW turned to leave the room, his hand tingling from just touching Gwen’s. He told himself it was ridiculous to be attracted to somebody closer to Brody’s age than his own—and with a baby, no less—but it didn’t stop the tightness that had captured his chest.

“Um, Drew?”

He stopped. Half afraid she was about to say something about their attraction—maybe even tell him she didn’t want her old boss hitting on her—he faced her.

“We still need supplies.” She winced. “I brought my equipment from home, but no real cleaning supplies. To make the bathrooms usable I think we need some disinfectant cleanser.” She caught his gaze. “I also noticed there are no sheets or towels or pillows. No laundry detergent, dishwashing detergent, dishes or silverware. Or even basic pots and pans. You could also probably use a coffee-maker—”

Relieved that she was focusing on the job, Drew reached for his wallet. “And food?”

“And food.”

“Okay.” He pulled out several hundred-dollar bills. “Can you take care of getting all of that?”

“I don’t think we have a choice.”

She glanced at the stack of bills then back up at him. “You do realize we don’t have a Saks Fifth Avenue, right? I’m only going to the local discount department store.”

“Are you telling me you have too much money or not enough?”

“I’m saying the sheets won’t be silk.”

He laughed.

A wonderful feeling filled her again. Her pulse scrambled. Her knees weakened. Her brain became fuzzy and dreamy. When he wasn’t being angry with Brody, he was actually a fun, nice guy—

That had to be irrelevant! It would be insanity for a woman with a baby to find a man who obviously didn’t like kids attractive. Especially a boss. A rich boss. A man so far out of her league she shouldn’t even be looking at him.

Drew’s cell phone rang in the silent kitchen. He clicked a button and said, “Teaberry.” A pause. “Actually, I don’t even have my laptop set up yet. The fax, printer and two boxes of files are still in my SUV.”

He walked toward the kitchen door. “I pretty much know Jimmy Lane’s biggest objection to the Teaberry Corporation buying his company is that I’m not a local, but I’m fixing that. I’m moving into my grandparents’ old homestead,” he said, shoving against the swinging door and then disappearing behind it, effectively shutting off his conversation to her.

Ignoring the unwanted sparkle still twinkling through her, Gwen glanced down at sleeping Claire. “Well, this is going to be different than what we’d expected, but not something we can’t handle.”

Once Claire was dressed in her snowsuit, Gwen left for the store. A few more inches of fresh snow had fallen on the road since her last trip, making the drive down the mountain slow. She spent an hour at the discount department store, and another hour at the grocery, trying to guess what two rich guys would be able to cook for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

With her shopping completed, she stopped at her house. Not only did she pack extra clothes for Claire, she packed extra clothes for herself. She’d leave at least two outfits of cleaning clothes and two outfits of administrative assistant clothes in the maid’s quarters, just in case.

She also packed Claire’s swing—a gift she’d gotten at her baby shower. Now she had Drew’s full permission to have Claire at the house, there was no reason Claire couldn’t be totally comfortable.

The drive back up the mountain was even slower than the drive down. When she entered the kitchen, carrying Claire in the baby carrier and three plastic bags of towels, Brody was sitting at the kitchen table, looking bored out of his mind.

“Help me bring in the things from my car, would you?” she said lightly as she dropped the bags on the kitchen floor. She tossed her keys to Brody. “I’ll be out in two minutes. I just need to put Claire down for her nap.”

She didn’t know where Drew was, but she and Brody took so long carrying in the bags and putting the groceries into the kitchen pantry that Claire had awakened from her nap. After Gwen got Claire from the bedroom and fed her, she again found Brody in the kitchen.

“Blue towels and linens are yours,” she said to Brody, who was remarkably cooperative. From the way he’d behaved with his father, she’d thought he’d throw a fit when she asked for his help. But he hadn’t even flinched when she’d asked him to carry in the groceries and linens. She pointed at the bags that contained his linens. “Why don’t you take them upstairs?”

He grabbed the bags. “Got it.” He turned to leave the kitchen, but as he passed the table where Claire sat in her carrier he stopped and smiled at the baby. “She’s cute.”

“Yeah.” Gwen smiled, too. Another surprise. She’d have thought rich, obviously spoiled Brody wouldn’t care one way or another for a baby. “I adore her.”

The swinging door opened and Drew walked in. “Hey.” He glanced at the bags still on the floor and the cleaning supplies lined up on the kitchen counter and faced Gwen. “Thanks.”

Brody turned away from Claire. Without a word, he headed out of the room.

Drew winced, but swung his gaze to Gwen. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“I’ve been gone for hours.”

“Really?” He looked at his watch. “Wow. That time certainly flew.”

The temptation to remind him that he’d left Brody alone and bored the whole time she was gone was strong, but she resisted. Not only had he scoffed when she’d suggested she might be able to help with his son, but also he hadn’t added “help with his son” to the list of things he wanted her to do when they were negotiating. It might not have been intentional, but Brody was his child. His responsibility. She was only an employee. If he wanted her help, he’d have to ask for it.

Still, she couldn’t resist the urge to mention that Brody had carried in the bags—if only because the way Brody behaved had her thinking something was off in the relationship between Drew and his son. Maybe even unjustly off.

“Brody carried in most of the groceries and linens. I couldn’t have done it without him.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I figured that out. His mother’s never complained about him. Deep down he’s an okay kid. I’m getting the feeling he’s just mad at me.”

Drew’s cell phone rang again.

He clicked the button. “Teaberry. Can you hold on a second, Hal?” He caught Gwen’s gaze. “Two things. First, while you were gone I got a lot of the dust up in the office.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. She couldn’t imagine a man in a pale blue cashmere sweater dusting a filthy room, but now that he mentioned it she did see a fine coating of dust on his sweater and jeans.

“So I’m ready to start working. I’m going to have a list of people I want you to e-mail with the landline number for the phone. But while I’m gathering that list of names why don’t you go check on Brody? Maybe take the vacuum cleaner upstairs and show him how to use it. I’d do it, but I have a feeling he’ll listen better to you.”

Gwen’s heart turned over in her chest. Brody was a good kid, and Drew seemed like an okay guy, yet the two of them seemed to be at war. Still, she’d pushed her luck already, getting to keep this job. She wouldn’t overstep any boundaries.

Tuesday morning she came prepared. Revved up. Ready to go. With a sloppy sweatshirt and jeans under her thick coat, she let herself into the kitchen and found Brody at the stove, making eggs—which were burning.

Choking as she entered the room, she used her free hand to wave the smoke around. “Step away from the stove.”

He laughed. “My pleasure.”

She set Claire’s carrier on the table and immediately took the skillet off the gas burner. Before she could do anything else Drew burst into the room. “I’m getting e-mails from three lawyers, all of whom have looked at a different part of the agreement I want to send to Jimmy Lane. I need you in the office now!”

As quickly as he’d popped into the room he popped back out. Gwen glanced at the baby carrier, then at Brody.

He said, “Go. I’ll make toast. I’m fine.”

She quickly grabbed the baby carrier, put sleepy Claire into the portable crib, stashed the baby monitor in the big pocket in front of her sweatshirt and raced to the office. When she got there, Drew was on the phone. After two minutes of listening to him argue with an attorney, she glanced longingly at the door.

She could have made Brody’s eggs by now. Maybe even the toast.

After five minutes she started to fume. She could have easily made Brody’s eggs, put on a pot of coffee, squeezed some orange juice and set up Claire’s swing in the office.

Just when she was ready to leave to do something productive, Drew ended his phone call.

“Okay. I’ve e-mailed all three lawyers’ comments on the agreement to the account I set up for you. All you have to do is print them.”

She opened her mouth to lambast him for calling her in for such a simple assignment and then making her wait, but he added, “Your password is Claire.”

Her anger deflated. He’d remembered her baby’s name? Stupid, dreamy thoughts about how romantic that was popped into her head. But she stopped them. Mostly because they were ridiculous, schoolgirl stupidity. She wasn’t a schoolgirl anymore. She was an adult. A woman with a baby. Someone who didn’t build fantasies around offhand comments.

When she was done printing the legal assessments, Drew told her to clean the master bedroom. He pointed at the sofa. “I slept on that last night and it wasn’t even a little comfortable.”

She caught the giggle that nearly bubbled out. It wasn’t funny that he’d been uncomfortable, but the look on his handsome face was priceless. Still, she only nodded her understanding and left the room.

She ran into Brody on the way to the maid’s quarters to check on Claire before she went upstairs.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.” She stopped in front of him. “I’m just on my way to clean the master suite.”

“Need any help?”

She swallowed her surprise. “Well, yes and no. I am capable of cleaning that room myself. But a little help would make the job go faster.”

“I’ll get the vacuum.”

The master suite was huge, but as dirty as everything else. While Brody sucked dust off the heavy drapes, the bare mattress, the walls and the carpeting, Gwen cleaned the bathroom. Brody put the sheets and pillows on the big bed. She placed towels in the bathroom. In two hours they had the room sparkling.

Brody said, “Now what?”

She shrugged. “I need to check in with your dad. See what he wants me to do.”

His eyes darkened. “Okay.”

“Hey, if it’s housework, I’ll happily share it with you.”

“Might as well. There’s nothing else to do in this dump.”

With that Brody left the room, and Gwen stared after him. When he was busy he didn’t call the place a dump. One word from her to Drew could get Brody something to do. But she was so afraid to say that word. She’d already pushed him by negotiating to keep Claire in his house, and she’d pushed it even further by demanding extra money for helping with the cleaning.

And Brody was his son. That was personal. She couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t, butt into that.

Unfortunately, when she reached Drew’s office and he kept her waiting as he talked on the phone for forty-five minutes, stopping her every time she headed for the door, with a “just one more minute” signal with his index finger, she truly empathized with Brody’s boredom.

In fact she’d got so bored by the time he disconnected his call that she said, “You do realize Brody is bored, right?”

His face scrunched in confusion. “What?”

“While you’re back here working, Brody’s rambling around this big house with nothing to do.”

Obviously impatient, Drew glanced down at the notes he’d taken during his phone conversation.

Irritation crackled through her. “Don’t you care?”

Drew looked up slowly, hooked her gaze and held it for several seconds without saying a word. Finally, he said, “He has a cell phone that connects him to his friends and probably hundreds of thousands of online games. He’s fine. This is none of your business.”

Because he had her on that, she answered honestly. “Maybe not. But I’m the one walking around the house, bumping into him, seeing how bored he is, and you’re the one sitting back here so engrossed in your work that I’ll bet you don’t even know what time it is.”

As if to confirm her suspicion, Drew’s gaze fell to the clock on his desk. His face registered shock, but his voice was calm when he said, “Since it troubles you so much, you’ll be glad to know I talked with Max, the farm’s caretaker, this morning. I want to open up the Christmas tree farm, and he tells me that with a little help he could probably be ready Saturday after next. Once Max gets here this afternoon Brody’s going to have plenty to do.”

Her mouth fell open in dismay. She didn’t know which part of his plan to address first. “You’re going to make him work on the Christmas tree farm?”

Drew glanced up lazily. “I take it you have a problem with that, too?”

Embarrassment suffused her. Was she an idiot? Arguing with the man who literally held her future in his hands? The salary from this job would make it possible for her to finish her education, and once she finished her education she could get a teaching job to support herself and Claire. They wouldn’t live in the lap of luxury, but they’d be fine. Especially since she and Gill had inherited her mom’s house in Towering Pines. Gill didn’t want it, but to Gwen it was home. Not having to pay rent meant she really could live comfortably.

If she got her degree.

Suddenly Claire’s cry roared through the baby monitor in her sweatshirt pocket. Drew about jumped out of his seat. “What was that?”

She pulled the monitor from her pocket. “Baby monitor. Claire’s awake.” Without another word, she headed out of the office.

He stopped her. “I’m going to need an hour or two to review some new information I just got. It would be great if you could clean the kitchen.”

“Okay.” Great. That kept her and Claire out of his way, and gave her something to do—but not Brody. Of course, if he strolled into the kitchen again she could ask him to help her, but by now she was feeling like his taskmaster. Brody had already volunteered more than the normal sixteen-year-old. What he needed was something fun to do. Like snowboarding or skiing.

After changing and feeding Claire, Gwen set up the baby swing in the kitchen and started cleaning. Either Drew or Brody had cleaned enough that they could use the stove, sink, countertops and table. So she dusted the walls, wiped down the cabinets and scrubbed the floor.

When Drew arrived in the kitchen two hours later he looked around in amazement. “Wow. This place is actually nice.”

Glad that he wasn’t angry with her for her interference about Brody that morning, she panted in a breath and straightened up from the mop. “Cleaning doesn’t have to take long.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I could have made it look this good this quickly.”

His unexpected praise filled her with warmth. But she reminded herself that he was her boss and he was supposed to praise good work. He hadn’t told her she was pretty or sweet. He appreciated the work she was doing in his house. There was nothing more to the compliment than that. Besides, she probably looked like something the cat brought in after sweating over the dirty walls and cabinets.

“I’m making a sandwich for lunch. Care to join me?”

“Sure.” She glanced at Claire, who had tired herself out in her swing and was ready to nod off. “But first I need to take Claire back to the bedroom for a nap.”

She warmed a bottle while Drew gathered cold cuts and condiments from the refrigerator. When the bottle was ready, she slid Claire out of the swing and headed for the bedroom. Claire ate greedily and immediately fell asleep. Gwen returned to the kitchen and found Drew sitting alone at the table.

“Where’s Brody?”

He finished the last bite of the sandwich on his plate, then said, “I called him. He should be here soon.”

Brody slogged into the kitchen and flopped into a chair. Not wanting an argument to ensue, Gwen quickly prepared a sandwich for him and brought him a glass of milk.

Drew made himself another sandwich and took the seat beside Brody. Wanting everything to go well, Gwen poured some potato chips into a bowl and set them on the table, along with a bag of store-bought cookies.

As she sat, Drew said, “Gwen tells me you have nothing to do.”

Her eyes widened and she gaped at him, but before she could say anything, he continued, “I know it’s boring here. My dad told me stories about being so bored here before your grandfather moved to North Carolina that he thought he’d go nuts. So I’ve arranged for something to do for you.”

Brightening, Brody sat up.

Gwen’s chest tightened with fear. She might not have been a parent long, but she absolutely knew Drew was going about this all the wrong way.

“We’re opening up the Christmas tree farm.”

Brody said, “What?”

“The farm. We’re opening it. Jimmy Lane used to come to Teaberry Farms for his tree when he was a young father. He’s eager to see the place again. I thought it would be good for him if it was up and running. Sort of recreate that memory for him.”

Brody just gaped at his dad.

Drew obliviously trotted on. “Max is coming over this afternoon to start harvesting the trees. He’s already investigated how we should price them. We’ll have bunches of pre-cut trees for people in a hurry, and let other people go into the fields to choose their own. It will be fun.”

Brody’s gape turned into a look of utter horror. “Fun?”

“Sure.”

“And how much of this fun are you going to have?”

“Hey, I’ll be plenty busy.”

“Yeah,” Brody said, shoving back his chair as he rose. “Inside. In your warm office. While I’m outside freezing and lugging trees.”

“Brody, you know I have to work—”

“Right. Work. That’s all you think about. You didn’t really come up with the Christmas tree farm idea for me. You need the farm open to impress the old guy, and you’re using me as slave labor.”

“That’s not how it is!”

“Uh-huh? Sure. First Mom doesn’t want me because she’s got a new life, a new husband—” Brody’s voice shook, and Gwen’s heart squeezed with empathy for his pain. “Now you’re using me to get a business deal.”

He turned and strode to the back door, where he plucked his parka from a hook by the door.

Drew rose. “Brody, wait! Stop! I’m not using you for slave labor! And your mother isn’t abandoning you just because she got married.”

When Brody turned to face them, tears glistened on his eyelids. “Oh, that’s right. She probably hasn’t called you yet. But she will. I heard her telling Marc that she’d ‘take care of it’ after they got back from their honeymoon. She says you can’t argue about keeping me now, since she’s had me my whole life and you’ve barely seen me. So it’s your turn.”

With that he stormed out the door. Gwen sat stunned. Drew hovered by the table, obviously shell shocked. “I have absolutely no idea what to do.”

She said nothing.

He glanced down. “You offered to give me advice. I need advice. So you can start talking anytime now.”

“You scoffed at my advice, remember? And just this morning you told me that Brody was none of my concern.”

“Well, I’m not so picky now.”

She sucked in a breath. Sixteen-year-old boys didn’t cry unless something was seriously wrong—horribly wrong. So wrong he felt totally out of control. But if she told Drew that he wouldn’t sensitively delve until he got to the heart of the matter. He’d probably yell, or say something he’d regret, or both. He had to spend enough time with Brody until Brody was comfortable enough to talk or until the answers revealed themselves. And, though she knew Drew would probably groan at her suggestion, she decided to go with it anyway.

She caught his gaze. “Okay. If it were me running out that door right now, feeling like one parent didn’t want me and the other was about to turn me into a slave, I’d probably wish for a few minutes alone so my dad didn’t see me crying.”

Drew sat.

“Then I might feel totally different about the whole slave labor thing if my dad came out and did some of the work.”

He mouth dropped open. “You want me to help run the Christmas tree farm?”

“Maybe at least do some of the prep work to get it ready for customers?”

“I have a conglomerate to run and I’m in the middle of buying a new company.”

“So?”

He gaped at her. “So?”

“So what’s more important? Your company or your son?”