The Executive's Decision
Page 17

 Bernadette Marie

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“Thank you for lunch,” she said as she took her first bite of Polish sausage. “Mmm, this is just what I wanted.”
“My pleasure. It’s not very often a beautiful woman asks me to lunch.” He opened his soda and took a long drink. “How’s it going in L.A.?”
“Zach’s not a fan of smog. Other than that, he has a full day of meetings and he’s working hard.”
“Did he get the contract?”
“He’s working on it. He is very secretive though. The investor doesn’t want his name on anything. At least until it’s all said and done, then Zach says he’ll want all the credit.”
John nodded his head. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
Regan liked John Forrester. He had a personality that was infectious, and you just wanted to be around him. She figured him to be in his early fifties and someone who had worked outside in the elements most of his life. His skin was tan from the sun and the lines that crossed his face showed experience, but he was strikingly handsome. She also knew he was someone Zach trusted wholeheartedly. John worked on almost all of their Nashville projects and numerous ones out of state.
“I’m here to ask a favor.” She winced when she said it. She’d only had her job a week, and barely felt comfortable enough to ask him. “My brother is between jobs right now. He’s a junior high school math teacher, but currently out of work.”
“I see. And you want to know if I can use him?”
“Yes. I probably shouldn’t even ask, but…”
“Has he worked construction before?” he interrupted her before she could back out of the conversation.
“He did for a short time to earn money through college. He’s not a master of any specific trade, but he’s a hard worker.”
“I see.” John took a bite of his hot dog and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “So it could be temporary if he gets a teaching job?”
She nodded, realizing that wasn’t a great asset when asking for a job.
“I can see what I can do. I have a few guys leaving the job next week. Would that be soon enough?”
“Really? You can use him?” Her voice shot up in delight.
John rested his hand on hers. “For you, I’ll make sure I can.”
“Oh, thank you. He’ll be a good worker. I promise.” Excitement bubbled inside her. She couldn’t wait to tell Carlos.
“If not, he goes.” He was matter-of-fact about it, and she nodded. That she understood. But Carlos wouldn’t let her down, or John Forrester for that matter.
The moment Zach stepped into his office the following Monday morning, he sighed with relief. He was home. He’d never much minded business trips, but his trip to L.A. had been tedious and drawn out. The investor was not one of his most favorite people to work with, but he brought millions to the bargaining table, which Zach couldn't ignore. But not having Regan there, with her meticulous note taking and her keen ears and eyes, he’d hoped he hadn’t missed anything. Worse yet, he couldn’t ask for her help on anything to do with the project for the time being. When the time was right, she’d be brought up to speed on the events of the build, and so would John Forrester. In fact, he could discuss minor things with John before he could let Regan in on his deal.
He couldn’t be sure why the man always wanted to work the details out without anyone else being in on it. Obviously, he had something to hide. It only infuriated him that he couldn’t have his people working on it.
Zach blew out a ragged breath. He’d built buildings with the man before. This one would be just as successful and twice the size of all the others. It would all be fine, he reminded himself, even if he had to grit his teeth throughout the entire process.
He set his keys and sunglasses on his desk. His papers were set out, just as he liked them.
The key to the elevator sat next to his phone with a note addressed to Mr. Benson under it. He opened it to find Regan’s handwriting scrawled in it. Thank you for the parking permit. I appreciate it. I’ll leave the elevator key. Thank you, Regan.
He wasn’t too surprised. A small part of him hoped she’d call and yell at him for it anyway. He’d leave it right where it was in case she changed her mind.
His coffee mug was full and hot, waiting for him. He smiled when he saw the cinnamon roll next to the coffee mug. After the tiramisu, he was confident in assuming it was homemade.
Trying to regain control over his mind, he sat down with his coffee and newspapers and thumbed through them.
The cinnamon roll was to die for.
He looked at his watch. He’d stalled exactly nine minutes and twenty-seven seconds. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to see her.
He reached for the button on his phone to summon her, but that wouldn’t do. Instead, he plucked a flower from the vase on the coffee table and twirled it in his fingers. He opened the door only to be disappointed that she wasn’t at her desk.
“A flower for me? You shouldn’t have,” Kirk Peterson laughed as he walked toward him.
Zach put on a smile, hoping the disappointment that he felt in the pit of his stomach didn’t show on his face. He pulled the flower back casually as though he’d picked it up off the floor and tossed it into the trash can.
Kirk waved a file at him. “I wanted to talk to you about the Memphis project.”
“Yeah, why don’t you come in?” Zach stepped back to let him through and gave one more look down the hall, but still there was no sign of Regan.
An hour and a half later, Kirk Peterson finally left his office. Zach rubbed the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache he felt coming on. Regan sat at her desk just as Peterson walked out of his office. She glanced at Zach for a moment, then rose from her desk and handed him two aspirin and a glass of water.
“Do you have anything stronger?” he joked, tossing the pills into his mouth and swallowing them with the water. “I’m going to have to fire you. You weren’t here to arrange an emergency so I could get him out of my office faster.”
“Well, did you eat the cinnamon roll? I was really hoping that would save me from any mistakes I might make for a week, like not being here to ward off Kirk Peterson.” She batted her eyes at him. He was glad to see she’d loosened up a bit.
“Yes, and thank you.” He tossed the cup into the trash. “Okay, I’ll let you keep your job, but only if you have something good for me on the agenda.”