Everywhere and Every Way
Page 60

 Jennifer Probst

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Balin and Gandalf attacked, pushing her off balance and licking her madly. Pure love shot through her for the canine goofballs she’d become so attached to. After a lovefest, they headed to the small Italian café, which boasted homemade ravioli and had a wait list every day of the week. Of course, Cal led her right in, the owners immediately recognizing such a valued customer and setting them up toward the back in a cozy booth. He ordered a Chardonnay for her and a Peroni for him, then attacked the bread basket with gusto. “How did the walk-through go? Dalton seems to have things under control for once, and we’re on target. Catch any issues?”
She battled and lost the war with carbohydrates. Swiping the crusty Italian bread in olive oil, she moaned in delight. “No, things are tight. Once the cabinetry is installed, we can get started on the finishes. The mahogany crown molding will look amazing in the library, and the doors will need staining. We’re still ready to hit our completion date.” She ducked her head, not wanting to think about when their time would be done. Each night spent in his bed made leaving it that much more agonizing. She shook off the thought and refocused. “How are you getting along with Dalton?”
He shrugged. “Same. He fixed the problem with Ashley, but he’s not really talking to me. He thinks I’m being a bully.”
She shifted in her seat and kept her voice light. “Are you?”
“I’m responsible for the business. If he goes in the wrong direction, I have to pull him back.”
“Maybe not. Maybe he needs to do exactly what he wants and is good at. Did you ever think you’ve never given him a true chance?”
A frown creased his brow. His gray eyes flickered with impatience. “Why are you defending Dalton? Yes, he’s a genius at woodworking, but he needs constant supervision.”
Morgan sighed. “I’m defending Dalton because I think he’s fully capable of handling his share and more. You yank things away from him before he can try. You do the same thing with Tristan.”
“Tristan is obsessed with flipping property. We need to build houses, not buy them. We have no time for real estate. I don’t know why my brothers insist on playing around with our future.”
Why did there seem to be more to the story? When she watched the brothers intermingle, there was a sense of loss that beat through each of their encounters. As if they were desperately trying to find their way back to each other but were blocked. She bet it was even harder to transcend the past without parents to hold them together. Morgan knew the brothers had a painful history, but she ached to help them all find their way back to each other.
Morgan studied him in the dim light. “I encouraged him.”
Cal cocked his head and studied her. “What are you talking about?”
She dragged in a breath. “I told him about a house that needed renovation and said he should buy it. I agreed with him, Cal. I felt as if his strengths weren’t being used to his advantage. He seems to have a gift with redesigning and conversion.”
Cal cursed under his breath. “Morgan, you don’t know what’s going on. He needs to keep his focus on projects that make money fast.”
“Dalton and Tristan have different interests, which should make Pierce Brothers stronger as a whole. Not every job needs to have a short-term profit. They’re thinking on a grander scale, and they’re back to help you. I think it’s wonderful they wanted to come home and try again to be part of the business. I’m sure they were devastated by your father’s death.”
He averted his gaze, and her Spidey sense tingled. Why did he suddenly look guilty? The waiter came by with their ravioli, and Cal concentrated on his bowl like it held all the answers. She was missing another part of the puzzle but didn’t want to push. Did they even have that type of relationship? Should she respect his space and privacy, even though she ached to share every last secret claiming this man’s past?
Suddenly he spoke. “They don’t want to be here with me, Morgan. I never told you about my father’s will.”
She reached across the table and grasped his hand. The hard lines of his face hurt her heart. “Tell me,” she said softly.
His fingers squeezed hers. “My father put conditions on retaining ownership of Pierce Brothers. We have to live together and run it at a profit for one full year.”
She nodded. “Okay. I know living together is a challenge, but, Cal, I rarely see your brothers at home. We only ate with them a few times; it’s almost like your house is a ghost town. It’s not like you’re all stuck in a close space.”
“True.”
“Plus, you’re already running the company at a profit. That won’t be a problem.”
His wince told her differently. “We started at ground zero. Meaning that all profits before the will went into effect were void. It’s like starting a new business from scratch.”
The full situation finally struck her. His original reluctance to build the house for her. His visit to her hotel to bargain for terms she thought was like a game. This project was much more than a healthy dose of money in their account or a way to build clientele. If they didn’t hit the projected deadline and deliver, Pierce Brothers would fail. She’d forced his hand by removing all of his other clients so he’d be forced to work with her. And if he didn’t succeed, Cal would lose Pierce Brothers.
And it all hinged on her.
She leaned back, removing her hand, and tried to process. Her pulse skyrocketed in a bit of a panic. She didn’t want this. Didn’t want an emotional stake in a business deal that was supposed to be cut-and-dried. Dammit, that was the reason she avoided relationships on the job—the stakes were way too high.
“You’re getting spooked again,” he said drily, taking a sip of beer. “This has nothing to do with you, Morgan. This is about me.”
A mess of emotions roiled and rose. “How can you say that? I had no idea this house was a make-or-break deal. Oh, my God, and I put pressure on Jet McCarthy to decline your bid! I played a game to win, not realizing what was going on. I’m
sorry.”
Sparks shot from his eyes. His jaw clenched, and he lowered his voice to a commanding tone that still gave her shivers. “Stop it. Don’t you put this crap on yourself. You protected your clients to get the best deal, and that’s your job.”
Guilt tinged her tone. “I know, but I was ruthless about getting what I wanted.”