more than matched her own. ‘Oh, I’m going nowhere. You might be, though, and hopefully taking your dog with you before he licks me to death. Now, I’m going to have a look around, and while I do that, perhaps you’d be kind enough to tell George Cauldwell I’m looking for him. Although I’m beginning to think I may have very little to say to him. The name’s Barron, by the way. Nick Barron.’
Uh-oh. The name meant nothing to her, but it was obviously supposed to and she was beginning to get a sinking feeling about this man. If he was looking for her father, then he might well be someone from the bank, although his jeans and leather jacket made that seem unlikely, but if not the bank, then who…?
‘He’s not here,’ she told him. ‘Are you from the bank?’
‘Not exactly. Will he be back today?’
Not exactly? What did that mean? She shook her head. ‘No. I’m his daughter, Georgia,’ she said warily. ‘I’m in charge while he’s—away.’
‘In which case, since you claim to be in charge, perhaps you’ll be good enough, in your father’s absence, to give me a guided tour of the whole development. If I’m going to be foolish enough to proceed with the purchase, I want to see every last square inch. In triplicate.’
The purchase? The whole development?
Oh, lord, what had she done? This project was the biggest development her father had ever taken on, and standing in front of her was the man who had the power to make or break them. And she’d just threatened him with the police!
Fantastic. For the last two months they’d been throwing money into the site, forging ahead with the conversions and making a start on the new builds, and all the time waiting for instructions and—most importantly—funds. They’d been trying to get to the point of another stage payment, but all the way along they’d been delayed by a lack of detail in the specifications. Although Broomfield’s company seemed big on ideas, they were miserably short on detail, and the devil, in this case, was certainly in the detail. With the clock running on the penalty clause, it was debatable whose fault it would be.
And now the man who could have been the answer to her prayers was right here in front of her, and if she hadn’t already screwed up totally, she wasn’t going to let him leave until she’d had a chance to put their side of it and hopefully secure his promise to clear their debts, at the very least.
But her first move had better be an apology—a good one. She forced herself to meet his eyes and her heart sank. He was clearly running out of patience, and his eyes were sceptical and filled with doubts—doubts she had to get rid of at all costs.
‘I’m sorry, I hadn’t been told anything about a buy-out,’ she confessed. ‘My father’s been in hospital for nearly two weeks, and I’ve been dealing with Andrew Broomfield—or trying to. He’s been avoiding me.’
‘I wonder why?’ he murmured.
She swallowed her pride. The first apology obviously hadn’t worked. She’d have to try harder, and she forced herself to hold his eyes.
‘Look, I’m sorry. I was really rude, I apologise. I’m not normally like this, but I thought you were just being nosy, so I took it out on you. We’ve had some vandalism and thefts on the site, so I’m a bit edgy when I’m here on my own—’
‘I look like a vandal?’
No, she thought, you look like an avenging angel, and this is going from bad to worse. She shook her head, closing her eyes and wondering if he’d still be there when she opened them.
He was. Damn. She tried again. ‘No, of course you don’t, but it’s been a rough day so far and I wasn’t thinking. Can we start again?’
For a moment he just studied her, then his face softened almost imperceptibly. ‘Sounds like it’s been a rough month.’
She laughed a little hysterically. ‘You could say that. Look, I’m really sorry. I had no idea you were taking it over, Andrew’s been really cagey recently. Of course you can see the site, I’d be delighted to show you round, but I do need to get you kitted out with a hard hat and you need to sign in, and maybe while we do that I can answer some of your questions.’
‘It sounds like you have more questions than I do.’
She gave a wry, slightly bitter laugh. ‘Only one that matters, and I guess that’ll have to wait. We’re owed a stage payment, and the bank’s beginning to get edgy. And I’ve just hit a brick wall with Andrew. Yesterday I got some garbled message about money in the pipeline, but nothing I can take to the bank.’
His lips tightened. ‘That may be my fault. I’ve been out of the country and I haven’t given him an answer yet.’
‘And I’ve done my best to put you off,’ she said heavily. ‘Oh, God, what a mess. I’ve sent the men home with nothing to do and I was going to have to lay them off at the end of the week because I couldn’t give them any instructions—’
‘I’m sorry.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I said, I’m sorry—that it’s been so difficult for you. I would have come sooner, but I’ve been in New York. I had them fax me the details of the deal when they came through, but to be honest I had no idea it was such a big site. We’ve acquired it as part of a company takeover, and I only saw the site plans this morning. Maybe I can give you some answers now, if you can spare me the time?’
She stared at him. She’d been that rude and he was apologising? ‘Of course.’ She nodded, but she didn’t really have any time, because she had things to do—not least getting back to the bank with this latest bit of news—once she had worked out what the news was! She checked her watch. ‘I can give you half an hour but I’ve got phone calls I have to make today, and footings that need to be marked out if I’m not going to get behind schedule,’ she said, but he shook his head.
‘No footings—and if you want this contract you can give me as long as I need, Ms Cauldwell. I don’t want another brick laid or footing dug until I OK it. You can make your phone calls, but that’s all. The rest of the day I want—and if I’m happy with what I hear, you get to keep the contract. If I’m not, you’re out. Either way, there are going to be changes.’
She opened her mouth, shut it again and shook her head. Lord, it got worse, not better! ‘I’ll make sure you’re happy, but I have to point out we’re on a penalty clause—’
‘Not if I stop you working. That would be unfair. Anyway, I don’t believe in penalty clauses, not if you trust your workforce. They shouldn’t be necessary.’
Her jaw sagged again. ‘Can I have that in writing?’
And to her utter amazement, he laughed. It changed his face completely, softening the harsh lines and crinkling the corners of his eyes and making them dance. And his mouth—that slow, lazy kick to one corner—
‘By all means. Perhaps we could start again?’ He stuck out his hand. ‘Nick Barron. It’s good to meet you, Ms Cauldwell.’
‘Please, call me Georgie,’ she said, putting her hand in his and wishing, just wishing she’d remembered to drown it in handcream that morning.
And then she
