far she’d managed only the distance part, a feat that could have just as easily been accomplished by a vacation to the South of France. But now that she was here and finally feeling better, she was determined to succeed. Not that Franklin would ever fire her, probably, but it certainly wouldn’t be beneath her stepfather to replace her on an assignment.
“Listen,” she finally said, “all I can say is that I really haven’t been myself lately, although that’s beside the point and doesn’t excuse my bad behavior. But like I mentioned earlier, the, uh, the heat isn’t working in the office, which partially explains my, uh, um...” Emily met his curious gaze.
“Clothing removal?” Bering suggested politely, but Emily could see the humor in his eyes.
Now he was having fun at her expense. She countered in a tone of mock sincerity, “You mean my recent medical emergency? Yes, it probably does.”
“Emily, I’m sorry. I—”
She didn’t know if his look could be considered contrite, but it was close enough for her. She grinned and said, “I’m kidding. I should have known it was coming. I’ve suffered from dehydration before.”
“Really?”
“Yep, as a teenager—I think I was seventeen or eighteen. I was an assistant to the roustabout on an oil rig and I—”
“You were what?”
Bering looked both intrigued and doubtful. She wanted to assure him that she was no stranger to hard work, but she knew better than to tip her hand in that way. It had been impulsive to share that much with him as it was. She rarely talked about her personal life, unless she could see it as a direct benefit to the job. And intuition told her that there wasn’t anything personal she could relay to this man that would change his mind about the job she was here to do.
“The roustabout is the maintenance person who keeps things clean and running smoothly on the platform. I worked for him as an assistant. The pay was good, but it was hot and busy and I forgot to take my breaks. I ended up dehydrated and I passed out then too.”
She wanted to laugh at the look of shock on his face.
“Wow...I imagine it was hard work.”
His tone was filled with admiration, and for some reason Emily felt herself warm at the quasi-compliment.
“It was.”
“Where did this take place?”
“Texas,” she said.
“I thought you were from California.”
“I am. But I worked summers in Texas oil fields to help pay for college.” She left out the part about her stepfather setting up the jobs for her so she could learn everything about the industry she would eventually be a part of. She’d even worked a stint in one of their mines.
“Is that how you became interested in the oil industry?”
“Basically,” Emily said, and hoped he’d leave it at that.
“Where were you born?”
“Crescent City, California.”
“But now you live in San Diego?”
“Yes, I moved there when I was young.”
“Hmm. What kind of food do you like to eat?”
She answered even as she wondered at the subject change. “The dessert kind,” she said.
Bering grinned. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth myself. Chocolate?”
“Sure. And pastries and pretty much anything with frosting.”
“Dogs or cats?”
“Oh. No. Please don’t tell me you eat those here, too?”
He laughed, and she said, “I like them both, but I don’t have time for pets.”
“Favorite color?”
“Red.”
“Brothers and sisters?”
“One brother—half brother.”
“Were you close growing up?”
“Yes, as close as we could be. He’s three years older than me. We had the same dad, different moms. So we didn’t grow up together—he lived in southern Oregon with his mom and I grew up in San Diego with my mom and stepdad. We did see each other, though, as often as we could. Aidan’s mom was great about arranging that.”
“Where does he live now?”
“Um, Oregon, when he’s not traveling for work.... Why are you asking me all these questions?”
“I’m curious.”
He flashed her another smile, and the thought popped into Emily’s mind that she liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. Curiosity, huh? What did that mean? She knew she couldn’t get involved with him, so why she was even speculating, she didn’t know. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter. And, she reminded herself, either way, it was not professional behavior and certainly not professional thinking. And more than likely he was trying to learn about her for the same reason she planned to learn about him....
“Oh, um, why?” she asked, forcing herself back into the moment.
“Because you’re new in town, and here in Rankins we are known for our hospitality toward newcomers?” he jested.
Emily made a snuffling sound of amusement and disbelief. They both knew that the welcome she’d received as a representative of Cam-Field had been anything but hospitable.
“Okay, maybe not so much in your case. But I do know that we, meaning you and me, didn’t get off to the best start, so I was thinking maybe we could start over.”
“Why?”
“I get the feeling that you could use a friend in this town.” he suggested.
“Right,” she returned sarcastically, “like we could be friends—me working for Cam-Field and you...well, not.” But she had to admit that he did seem a lot different than the hostile man she’d first encountered. Had she dreamed up the fierce opponent who had confronted her in her office a few mornings ago? He was clearly a kind, compassionate and thoughtful guy, as evidenced by his behavior toward her the past couple days. And she had been dehydrated, drugged and delusional, and he seemed so harmless now. She met his eyes again and felt a jolt of awareness course through her. Okay, maybe “harmless” was understating the matter slightly. She recalled the passion he had displayed for this town a few mornings ago and his ultimate intentions where Cam-Field was concerned.
“I don’t see why it has to be a problem,” he said.
“Again, in case you missed it the first time, we are clearly on opposite sides of a very tall fence here.”
“But
