an idiot.
By the time Andy called her, she had developed a professional calm that would allow her to be at her best. She went to his office and entered with a slight smile on her lips. “Yes, Andy?”
“Come in. I’m going to take you to Kane’s office in a minute, but I want to prep you a little.” He had papers spread on his desk.
She pulled up a chair, eager for the details.
It appeared Andy had done a lot of preparation work on the budget and had set up the books.
“Kane wanted me to take this on, but I think you can do a better job. I did some of the preliminary work, of course, but you’ll be able to go on site and verify a lot. It’s just across the street, you know.”
“Doesn’t Mr. Waterton have a foreman who would take care of some of this?” Sharon asked.
“He used us last time because he had two projects going at once. Now he has several more projects going, that his own man is working on, but this opportunity came up. Besides, he has some questions about things his guy has done recently. This project is important to him. It’s big, Sharon.”
Yes, she could see that. And if he didn’t trust his man, she could understand why he wouldn’t want him on this project. But why not fire him?
Mr. Waterton would be a strange developer and builder if he was too shy to handle personnel. She couldn’t wait to meet him.
Andy indicated they were ready, and she followed him out of his office. She gave a prayer of thanks that they were on the same floor as Kane Haley’s office. Since Andy was in a wheelchair, he wouldn’t be able to take the stairs, as she always did between their three floors, and she didn’t want to arrive at such an important meeting with her wits scattered and her appearance less than professional.
When they reached Maggie’s office, she warned them that Kane wasn’t ready for them yet, and asked them to wait, indicating the comfortable sofa and chairs near her desk.
That was nothing unusual. Sharon took the sofa and Andy rolled his chair alongside her.
“You’re not nervous, are you?” Andy asked, like a mother hen hovering over her only chick.
“Not yet, Andy. I feel well-prepared for this job. Besides, if I find a problem, I can always bring it to you, can’t I? You’re not going to refuse to speak to me, are you?”
He chuckled. “You know I won’t. And Mr. Waterton is a good man to work for. I like him.”
A roar of laughter interrupted them, and they both looked at the closed door.
Maggie, with a smile, said, “Kane likes him, too. I think they’re becoming true friends.”
Sharon automatically smiled, but a frown replaced it as something in the two voices, fainter now but still audible, made her pause.
“What did you say Mr. Waterton’s first name was, Maggie?” she asked.
“It’s John,” Andy answered instead. “I told you that.”
“Oh, yes, right,” she agreed, still worried.
“But he usually asks everyone to call him—” Maggie began to add, when the door behind her opened.
“There you are,” Kane called out, obviously feeling good. “Andrew Huffman, Sharon Davies, I’d like you to meet Jack Waterton.”
Jack. The Jack of her dreams. The father-of-her-baby Jack. Thank God she was already sitting down.
Jack Waterton liked his association with Kane Haley. His company was up and coming and eager to please. He’d talked on the phone to Andrew Huffman and liked what he’d heard. Now they wanted him to work with a woman, but he didn’t have a problem with that.
He stepped forward and shook Huffman’s hand. They’d worked together before. He was a sharp man.
Then he turned to greet the woman. Very attractive, his mind thought, and he felt his body following the same line. His reaction wasn’t abnormal for most men. The brunette had long, light brown hair dancing about shoulders that topped a trim figure hidden behind her conservative dress. At least she wasn’t a siren.
He smiled and offered her his hand.
And saw her eyes.
Pale green. An unusual color. One that he’d seen in his dreams. Because they were the eyes of the mysterious Sharon. The one who’d disappeared after they’d been trapped in the elevator.
She stood and took his hand for a brisk shake. Then she stepped back, as if she didn’t like to touch him.
“Mr. Waterton,” she said stiffly.
“Make it Jack, Miss Davies,” he said in a friendly manner.
Kane slapped him on the back. “Of course she will, and you’ll call her Sharon. We’re casual around here.”
“Sharon?” he repeated, coming to a sudden halt. The woman in the elevator had had her hair pulled back into a bun. Had she been hiding all that silky hair that framed Sharon’s face? Could they be one and the same?
“Come on into the office. Jack has a few problems he’d like us all to discuss before he and Sharon settle in to detail the project,” Kane invited, standing back so they could all precede him.
Jack stared at the woman as she walked past him, cool as ice, never looking his way. It couldn’t be her. Surely she would’ve said something…well, maybe not. After all, what happened had been extraordinary and personal. Very personal. So personal that he hadn’t been able to forget it.
He dated, sort of, occasionally. Or maybe he should say he had liaisons. But the women always understood the nature of their relationships. He didn’t lead anyone on. He’d married once, and he didn’t intend to do so again.
Not that he’d led Sharon on in the elevator. She was frightened and panicky, and he’d tried to help her. He hadn’t intended to—no, he didn’t lose control with women anymore.
But he had that time.
And then she’d walked away.
Had it been a trap? Had she known who he was after all? Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as he’d thought her. She couldn’t have predicted that the elevator would stick. But it wouldn’t be the first time that some fast-thinking woman had used unexpected circumstances to trap a man into thinking with something other than his brain.
“Jack?” Kane prodded him with his voice. “You okay? Ready to talk?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” He turned and followed the others into the office. Kane had said the woman had been with his company eight years. If she started just after college, that would make her thirty. She didn’t seem that experienced. In fact, in the elevator, if that was her, he’d thought she was probably twenty. Which left him feeling very guilty. After all, he was thirty-five, considerably older.
He eyed her again as he took a seat across from her. She couldn’t be thirty. Her skin was fresh and…and
