she had to admit it. The thought of giving him orders intimidated her just a little. Okay, maybe a lot.
Forcing a smile, she turned back to her workers. “Looks like you got a lot done.”
“Well, we’ve been working since eight,” Amber said.
Heather’s face grew warm, but she chose not to make excuses. “When you’ve finished with the beach area, we should start removing sod for the rain gardens.”
She’d planned on two freeform rain gardens on the mansion’s lake-facing side, leaving room for a wide, stone pathway down to the beach between them.
“Retaining wall or no?” Tyrone asked.
Something she’d been undecided on the week before.
Heather nodded. “The slope is gentle enough, so we can install twelve or fifteen inches.” If the slope were steeper, a big storm could wash away a taller retaining wall, but a small one should do well. “That way, we can create flat areas with a shallow bowl for the new plantings.”
“How much of the lawn are we going to remove?” Amber asked.
Considering the estate grounds were nearly an acre, equivalent to the size of a football field, and knowing her budget, Heather said, “Not as much as I would like, but it’ll be a great start. We have four areas of concentration. In addition to this beach area and the rain gardens, we’ll plant a prairie with native grasses mixed with flowering plants as a backdrop over there.” She indicated the south end of the grounds. “And then an expanded garden starting from the terrace, with another seating area at the other end, then here, around the buildings. All that will require more lawn removal. The rest of the lawn will remain, at least for this year.”
“There’s not going to be much left if The Terminator keeps going,” Amber said, looking beyond her.
“The Terminator?” Heather turned to see the man mowing the same section for a third time.
“He’s killing that grass,” Tyrone said. “Are you sure the owners want any left?”
Heather sighed. “I’m sure.” She’d actually had to scale back her plan a bit due to their budget. New plantings weren’t inexpensive, especially for an estate of this size, so she better save that grass.
“I saw him roll right over some bushes, too,” Amber said. “He just hot dogs that thing around like he’s driving a sports car.”
Heather sighed. “Okay. I guess I have to go talk to the guy. He doesn’t work for EPI, right?”
Tyrone shook his head. “Nope.”
Great. “Go on back to work while I take care of this.”
The Terminator. He did kind of look like the movie character, wearing those mirrored sunglasses.
Not wanting to confront a stranger her first hour on the job, Heather nevertheless trekked back up the incline. The landscape was now her responsibility, and she couldn’t sit by and see the lawn destroyed, not when there would be so much of it left when they were done planting.
Moving in behind him, she cleared her throat, then called, “Excuse me!”
The Terminator kept going—apparently he hadn’t heard her—and he was moving so fast, she nearly had to run to keep up with the riding mower.
She raised her voice. “Excuse me! Sir!” When he didn’t answer, she jogged faster and grabbed his arm. “Hey!”
He suddenly stopped and she ended up just about running smack into him. Stopping the machine instantly, he jumped off. The next thing Heather knew, she was on the ground, his hand on her throat, pinning her in place and knocking off her cap. It all happened so quickly, she had no way to defend herself. Frightened and angry, she lay beneath him, shaking inside, staring wide-eyed into his half-hidden face.
“What are you doing?” she croaked. Her heart was thumping double time. “Let go! Please! I wasn’t attacking you, okay?”
As if suddenly realizing he’d overreacted, he shook himself, stood and said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” He held out a hand to her. “You just startled me.”
Reluctantly, she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. The breath seemed to whoosh out of her, and she could feel her pulse where his fingers wrapped around hers. “Sorry,” he said again. “Really.”
As if burned, she pulled her hand free. “I—I, uh, just wanted to talk to you.”
He reached over to shut off the lawnmower. “About?”
“Well, that.” Her heartbeat steadying, she nodded at the fancy mower.
“You want to do the mowing?”
His lips curved slightly. Was that a smile? Hard to tell in a face that seemed to be made of granite. And one that was mostly hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. She wondered if he wore them for effect—if he wanted to seem mysterious or dangerous for some reason.
Not caring to make matters worse, she said, “Uh, no, I don’t want to do the mowing. I just want to know why you’re doing it.”
“I’m the handyman. Rick Slater. Mr. Phillips just hired me a few days ago.”
He didn’t look like a handyman. Heather frowned at him. “And he told you to mow the lawn?”
“Phillips didn’t give me orders to do anything specific. He just expects me to take care of the place in general. You have something against me cutting the grass?”
Did she? Heather wondered. This wasn’t something she’d talked about with Mr. Phillips or EPI, so she merely said, “I’m in charge of renovating the landscaping. Heather Clarke.”
His lips curved again. “You’re in charge? Then you must be that community college girl who’s doing an internship here.”
He seemed amused by the idea of her being in charge of anything. How young did he think she was, anyway? She was a very mature twenty-four. Not that she felt inclined to tell him so.
“I’m the woman who is doing the internship, yes.” Trying not to be irritated with him—she was fighting a losing battle—Heather said, “Mr. Phillips told me I could decide what we’re doing with all the plants and the lawn. Do you have experience with landscaping?”
“What kind of experience is necessary to ride a lawnmower around? Feel free to give me advice. I’m new at this.”
Then why had he been hired?
“First, you need to adjust the lawnmower so it doesn’t cut lower than two inches, or you’ll destroy the grass,” Heather told him. “Then only go over it once. And if you’re just riding from one place to another, raise the blades entirely.” She flicked her gaze around the area until she saw the bush Amber had told her about. “Apparently you’ve also sent a few shrubs to the big garden in the sky...so don’t mow the bushes, okay?”
He held up his hands, palms out. “Okay. You’re the boss. Your company does want the lawn mowed, right?”
