His First and Last (Ardent Springs #1) Page 9

  “That’s my business. Boyd’s Custom Cabinets.” Spencer raised a brow. “Where did you think I went all day?”

  “I don’t know.” She hadn’t thought about it. She knew he had a job—seeing as that fancy truck didn’t pay for itself—but it never occurred to her that he owned his own business.

  “I’m going to try not to take your lack of interest in my life as an insult.” Spencer snatched the spatula from her hand and tossed it on the island. “Now step outside and try to act normal.” He looked down her body. “And you might want to take that apron off. The flour is a dead giveaway.”

  “Well, shoot,” Lorelei said, untying the apron strings and gently tugging the ancient material over her head. Granny never threw anything away, which was why Lorelei was wearing the same apron Granny’s mother had cooked in nearly a hundred years ago.

  Spencer held a hand out for her to take. When it remained empty, he turned around. “What are you waiting for?”

  “I don’t need to hold your hand to walk onto the porch.” Lorelei stepped up beside him. “You have to stop acting like we’re picking up where we left off.”

  “Where we left off was you throwing a ring at my head and telling me to go screw myself,” he said matter-of-factly. “We’re picking up someplace else.”

  “We’re not—” Lorelei started to argue, but Spencer stepped through the door before she could finish. She followed, pasting on a friendly face for their visitor. It wasn’t until she reached the rail that Lorelei questioned why she had to return to the porch at all.

  “Sorry about that, Mike. Lorelei got a spoon stuck.”

  Such a freaking jerk.

  “Not a problem.” Mike scratched his head. “Are we going to discuss the job sitting out here?”

  “The job?” Lorelei asked. Why did she need to be out here to talk about cabinets?

  “The kitchen isn’t totally clean, so Lorelei would prefer to do this out here, yes.”

  Lorelei would prefer to do what out here?

  “Fine by me. Should we sit?” the older man asked.

  “Of course.” Spencer carried a white wicker rocker down the porch. “Lorelei and I will sit on the swing, and you can sit here,” he said, indicating the rocker for their guest.

  Lorelei shuffled across the wood planks before Mike could join them. “What are you doing?” she whispered. “Why am I even out here?”

  “Trust me,” he said out the side of his mouth, then pulled her back to plop down on the swing next to him.

  “Well, Lorelei,” Mike said, rubbing a hand along his clean-shaven chin. “I can only offer part time right now, but it sure would help me out of you’re willing to do it.”

  Was this some kind of a joke? Had she blacked out and missed the first half of this conversation?

  “Mike,” Spencer spoke up, squeezing Lorelei’s knee as if in warning. Of what she didn’t know. “I’m afraid Lorelei’s in the dark about this. I didn’t get a chance to mention it yet.”

  “Oh, sorry about that. No wonder you look so confused.” Mike laughed, and Lorelei drove her thumbnail into the back of Spencer’s hand. It took three full seconds, but he finally let go. “My construction business is taking off, and I need someone to answer the phones in the office three days a week. It’s mostly taking messages and relaying them to me at the job sites. Some of it is checking schedules and then light clerical stuff. Filing invoices. Entering payments in the accounting software.”

  “Accounting software?” Lorelei sent Spencer a panicked look. Not only had he thrown her into this awkward situation with no warning whatsoever, now she was going to have to admit that she knew nothing about clerical stuff, as Mike had called it.

  “It’s an easy system. If I can learn it, anyone can,” he said.

  She’d used computers at various restaurants over the years, but that was only to key in orders on a touch screen system that a chimp could have mastered. “I suppose I could give it a try.” Wait, did she just agree to work for this person? She needed time to make the cookies. What was she doing? “But I’m not sure I can do this. Did you say part time?”

  “That’s right. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday is what I’m looking at right now. If business improves, the position could turn full time, but that’s likely a ways off.”

  Lorelei could feel Spencer watching her. She turned to see him making a weird face, trying to communicate something with his eyebrows, but she had no idea what. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were the days she’d deliver the cookies to Snow. But she’d have to make them the day before, which if she took this deal, she’d have off. In fact, if she were working somewhere on the days the new treats showed up, then it couldn’t be her supplying them.

  Suddenly, she understood the eyebrows.

  “Did you have a salary in mind?” she asked. Since nothing he’d say could be lower than what she’d made waiting tables, the question was merely a formality. Not asking would have appeared desperate, which she was, but this potential new boss didn’t need to know that.

  “I can afford minimum wage to start, but I’m willing to give increases as the business grows,” he answered. “And based on performance, of course.”

  Definitely a step up from waiting tables. But this meant Spencer had gotten her a job. Lorelei might not be able to afford it, but she still had some pride left.

  “One more question.” This was the point when she needed to stick a sock in it, but that had never been her style. “Did you create this job for me as a favor to Spencer, or are you really looking for an assistant?”

  Mike smiled. “You don’t just look like your mother, you got her guts as well.”

  Lorelei never considered her mother a gutsy person. If anything, she remembered her as the total opposite. If she’d had guts, she might have gotten out of bed once in a while, faced life head-on, and not hidden under the covers leaving her daughter to fend for herself. But this man remembered Donna Pratchett in a positive light. That was enough for Lorelei.

  “When should I start?” she asked. She could see Spencer smiling in her peripheral vision. He was going to take credit for this, which meant she’d have to bow and scrape in gratitude or never hear the end of it. Eh, she’d survived worse.

  “Tomorrow morning would be great.” Mike rose from his seat, and Lorelei and Spencer followed suit. Her new boss was almost exactly her height, something she hadn’t noticed when he’d been on the stairs and she up on the porch. Again that feeling of familiarity hit her. Maybe he was one of those people who had a twin somewhere on the planet. Someone she’d met in LA. “Spencer has the address, and the dress code is casual. Come in at nine and we’ll get started.”

  “I appreciate the opportunity,” she said, taking the hand he offered. “And I’d love to hear more about my mother sometime.” The words were out before Lorelei knew she was going to say them. She never talked about her mom, not even with Granny. But the draw of hearing about her from someone who remembered her fondly was too much to pass up.

  He gave her hand a squeeze. “I’d be happy to share some stories.” After exchanging a brief shake with Spencer, Mike Lowry made his exit, leaving Lorelei dazed and Spencer looking very happy with himself.

  As the burgundy pickup with Lowry Construction emblazoned across the tailgate disappeared from sight, Spencer said, “That should at least get me a couple cookies.”

  “Yes, it does,” she sighed. “Let’s go see how those gingersnaps came out.”

  Chapter 10

  Spencer was sliding his boots on when the cell phone went off. The caller ID showed the call to be from Rosie’s house, and when he answered, the voice on the other end was so muted that at first he thought someone had butt dialed him. Except who butt dialed from a landline?

  He finally heard what he thought was Rosie’s voice say, “Get down here quick.” Then the line went dead.

  His first thought was that someone was in the house, but Champ would have sounded the alarm if a stranger had dared to step on the property
. And Rosie would surely call 911 before calling him. Jamming his foot in the other boot, Spencer trucked it down the stairs, trying not to trip on the untied laces. When he reached the porch, he heard Lorelei’s voice through the screen door.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking,” she was saying. “No one is going to want these ugly cookies. There are too many.”

  “Those are not ugly cookies,” came Rosie’s voice. “Lorelei, calm down.”

  “What if there aren’t enough?” Lorelei asked, her voice more frantic than before. “What if this isn’t what Snow expected?”

  “Then you’ll make more the next time.” Before he could knock, Rosie jerked the door open and said, “It took you long enough.”

  How did she know he was there? And he’d gone as fast as he could.

  “What’s going on, ladies?” Spencer asked, walking into the kitchen as if it were any ordinary day. Except on an ordinary day, he didn’t get summoned to the house before work.

  “Lorelei is a little nervous,” Rosie said, sliding up to the counter and lifting a coffee mug to her lips. Over the rim she gave Spencer a wide-eyed do something look.

  “Well,” he stalled, rubbing his hands together, “that’s normal. First day of something, two somethings, really, is always a bit stressful.”

  “Don’t patronize me. And Granny shouldn’t have called you, especially not when she created this mess.”

  Spencer shifted his gaze to Rosie, who continued to sip her tea, but there was guilt in her downcast eyes. “What does she mean, Rosie?” He didn’t mind coming to Lorelei’s rescue, but stepping into a family argument was a different story.

  “I didn’t do a thing,” the older woman defended.

  “She doesn’t like the idea of me working for Mike Lowry, though heaven only knows why. You’d think she’d be happy that her freeloading granddaughter is on the precipice of having not one but two sources of income.” The younger Pratchett woman threw her hands in the air and propped her bottom on the back of the couch. “I can’t win around here.”

  Waiting for Rosie’s explanation, Spencer joined Lorelei on the back of the sofa.

  “Now don’t you two go ganging up on me,” Rosie said, setting her mug on the counter. “Baking three days a week and working another three at some office is a lot to jump into, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “In other words, she thinks I’m going to screw up. Again.”

  “Don’t be putting words in my mouth, missy.”

  “Let’s all step back a second here.” Spencer put himself between the two women. “Lorelei, do you think you can handle the baking and working for Mike?”

  Lorelei gnawed on her pinky nail as she stared at the floor. “I pulled fourteen-hour shifts sometimes seven days a week in LA. But I didn’t make the food, and I sure as heck wasn’t running any software programs. I never even made supervisor. Maybe Granny is right.”

  “I never said you can’t do this, Lorelei.” Rosie stepped around the island. “But do you have to work for Mike Lowry?”

  That took Spencer by surprise. What did Rosie have against Mike?

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Lorelei asked. “Does the man have some deep dark secret that I should know? Or are you really afraid I’ll screw up his business and make yet another enemy in this town?”

  “I’m not worried you’ll screw anything up. It’s just that . . .” There was something Rosie wasn’t saying, though Spencer couldn’t imagine what.

  He’d worked with Mike for nearly a year and had nothing but good things to say about him. And unless he’d missed it, there was nothing in the local gossip to change his opinion.

  “What?” Lorelei said. When Rosie didn’t answer, she pushed herself off the couch and into the kitchen. “I can’t keep arguing. I’m going to be late.”

  “What do we need to do? This stuff needs to get to the car, right?” Spencer checked the clock over the stove. “You have an hour before you need to report for work with Mike, and two hours before Snow’s store opens. How is the delivery set up?”

  He hadn’t thought to ask before, but if Lorelei wanted her role as cookie supplier to remain a secret, she couldn’t exactly be seen walking them through the front door of the shop.

  Lorelei tightened a loose corner of plastic wrap. “I told Snow I’d deliver them around eight thirty. She’s going to take them at the back door so no one sees me.”

  “Great. That leaves plenty of time to reach the construction office out on Mount Hope.” He picked up a tray and expected Lorelei to do the same, only she didn’t. Instead she stared at the treats as if they were going to leap off the island and dance. “What’s the problem?”

  “The problem is, now I’m all worried,” she said, waving her hands over the treats. “What if these are awful? And what if I crash this simple software thing that Mike mentioned yesterday? What if I delete all of his files and he can’t get them back?” Her teeth bit down on the pinky nail again. “I don’t even know if I’m wearing the right thing.”

  The denim clinging like a second skin to her long legs looked new or close to it, and the purple top had the normal buttons and a collar. She was wearing a pair of tan flat shoes that looked professional and comfortable. All of which he would expect to find on the secretary at a construction office.

  “You are not going to crash anything, but if you do, Mike probably backs up his files. Whatever might be lost, I’m sure he can get back.”

  “See!” Lorelei yelled. “I don’t even know that much. Granny is right. This is a bad idea.”

  He’d had enough.

  “That better be the last time I hear you say those words,” Spencer said. “We’re going to put these trays in the car, you’re going to deliver them, and then report to the job you agreed to take yesterday.” Stopping beside Lorelei, he leaned close to her nose. “You’re a grown woman with more than average brains. These cookies are awesome, which I should know since I ate enough of them, and you will figure out the office stuff. Now open the door.”

  His outburst seemed to have startled her, as Lorelei blinked twice, then scurried to the door without argument. If he’d known acting like a caveman was the way to shut her up, he’d have done it years ago.

  But what was more surprising than her silent obedience was what happened at the car.

  “I owe you,” she said, coming up behind him with a tray of cookies in her arms. After sliding it onto the backseat, she turned to face him. “I doubt this will be my last meltdown, but I’m working on it. And I know you went out on a limb to get me this job. I won’t embarrass you.”

  “I never thought you would.” He wanted to give her a kiss for luck. The kind of kiss that would stay with her all day and have her looking for him come sundown. But Spencer had learned the hard way that Lorelei wasn’t ready for that yet.

  Still, this was progress.

  “I don’t know why you have so much faith in me.” Lorelei tilted her head to one side and smiled. It was a replica of the smile she’d given him the first time he ever asked her out sophomore year. The one that sent his heart into his throat and made him want to promise her anything. “Maybe someday soon I’ll earn it.”

  “You don’t have to earn anything with me,” he said, holding eye contact. “You should know that by now.”

  In true Lorelei style, she ignored the sentiment, instead turning toward the house. “We need to get the rest of these loaded.”

  She had to give him credit. Spencer was persistent. He was also hotter and harder to resist than he’d been twelve years before. And with every encounter, she felt herself weakening. But Spencer had also turned out to be a really decent guy. A guy who deserved a girl who wouldn’t drive him crazy, have a mood swing every forty-five seconds, or break his heart.

  All of which Lorelei was destined to do if she took him up on what he was offering.

  Not that she knew exactly what he was offering. He’d been quick to remind her how they’d ended, with enough resentment in his voice to show she may
have been forgiven but nothing was forgotten. So what did he want? Sex? If she believed for a second they could do a little mattress dancing without either of them getting hurt, Lorelei would be the first one in the bed.

  And as much as she’d like to pretend she could love him and leave him, the little promise she’d made to stop lying to herself nipped that thought in the bud. She’d take the hit if her heart was the only one on the line, but Lorelei wasn’t about to hurt Spencer. Not again. She may have been a failure and an involuntary home wrecker, but he’d experienced real loss. And as had been the truth twelve years before, Spencer deserved better than anything she could give him.

  As Lorelei stared out the window of Lowry Construction, twisting her mind around the man who’d gotten her this job, the phone rang, jerking her out of her reverie. Thankfully, the calls had been few and far between since Mike had left her around eleven. It was now lunchtime, and after taking yet another message that sounded like a foreign language to her, she realized she hadn’t brought anything to eat.

  If she went out, she could drive over to Snow’s to see how her baked goods were selling, but Lorelei didn’t know how to lock up the office, and Mike hadn’t said anything about her leaving before he came back. So she was stuck. For half a second, she entertained the idea of calling Spencer and asking him to bring her something, but she still hadn’t asked for his cell number.

  By twelve thirty Lorelei was desperately searching the drawers of her tiny desk for someone’s forgotten candy bar, when she heard the office door open and close. If that was Mike bringing her a sandwich, he’d just won boss of the year.

  “Hello,” trilled a high-pitched voice accompanied by the sound of heels clicking along pale floor tiles. “Anyone home?”

  Mike had assured her no one ever came into the office unless they had a meeting with him, and those were usually conducted elsewhere. Maybe one of the guys’ wives needed something.

  “Can I help you?” Lorelei called to the visitor.

  To her surprise, Becky Winkle stepped around the corner. She looked as startled as Lorelei, if the height of her painted-on brows was any indication. “What are you doing here?”