would not be proud that she’d screwed up, even less proud that she’d given Sam the impression she didn’t care. That it was all a joke. But what else were you supposed to do when every time you tried to do something “more,” it blew up in your face?
Maybe Wes had the right idea. Hermit cabin in the woods. Surround yourself with animals who couldn’t express their hope or disappointment in your abilities. No one could intimidate her with their expectation.
Wes didn’t intimidate her, and she was good at organizing someone else’s business. The idea took root easily enough. “Do you think I’m annoying?”
“You’re pawing through my stuff, so you’re not exactly not annoying.”
She laughed at his gruff honesty. “But too annoying to be your assistant?”
His eyes widened, and she couldn’t hide a smile. Surprising people always gave her a thrill. “I have references,” she added. “I’m the receptionist at a salon in Millertown. I organize the appointments, answer emails, phone, all that.” She looked around his mess of an office. “I could have this worked out in a couple weeks, tops.”
“I’m only looking for someone to work part-time.”
So, in theory, she could ask Sam for a second chance. She could possibly redeem herself in his, and in Mia’s, eyes. She could take the reins of this little disaster of her own making and turn it around.
Though her instincts recoiled at the idea, she was starting to outgrow the stage of life where she could be funny, careless Cara. Pretty soon she’d be irresponsible, deadbeat Cara.
Her whole stomach roiled at the idea of asking for a second chance, the even bigger pressure. But she looked around Wes’s cluttered, isolated house. The guy needed some help, and it was as if this opportunity was being dropped in her lap.
Could she really ignore it? “I actually might only need part-time if I can work something out.”
“I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not a people person. I don’t like to talk or be friends. I get angry easily, and I’m rarely nice.”
“You have no idea how much I like not nice.” When he gave her a quizzical glare, she shrugged. “Seriously. Niceness carries with it a certain level of...” She couldn’t believe she was about to be so honest with the guy, but if she couldn’t be honest with the dog-whispering super hermit, who could she be honest with?
“Expectation. I prefer it when people are mean. No pressure to live up to anything. I’d take a good screaming fit over disappointment.” Okay, she could probably stop talking any minute. “Anyway, believe it or not, you don’t scare me in the slightest.” Maybe a slight exaggeration. Something about the guy made her...she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Restless, maybe, but surely that was just her life and not Wes.
“I...” His eyes moved around the room as if taking in the enormity of the mess, then his gaze returned to her. She didn’t think she imagined the perusal, though it was quick.
“On second thought, maybe it’d be a great idea.”
“Really?” She wasn’t sure if his sudden turnabout was normal or not, but she did thrive on spontaneity.
“Yeah, but I want the references before we agree on anything. And no negotiating wages or hours. I pick those.”
“No problem.”
“And there are rules.” He crossed his arms over his chest, scowling. Somehow the dude with the long beard and unkempt hair was cute when he got all gruff.
“Rules? Like what? I’m not always super great at following rules.” She never meant to break them, exactly; it just always turned out that way.
“I...I’m not sure what they are yet, but you’ll have to follow them.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
“I’m not a captain.”
“Would you prefer sir?” She didn’t mean to make that sir come out all sultry and suggestive. The words had a mind of their own. A dirty mind, at that.
“I j-just... Call me Wes. My name is Wes, a-and that’s what you should call me.”
Cara cocked her head. He was a strange guy. One minute he was standoffish, but the minute she did anything remotely flirtatious he got stuttery. Nervous. The two things didn’t jibe. She found herself a little too curious as to why.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea if she was going to be tempted to flirt with him. There was one line she’d yet to cross in the dating department, and that was the boss/employee line.
Of course, her bosses had always been women before, making it rather easy.
“It makes business sense to hire someone better with people than I am. If you actually think you can tackle this and follow my rules, maybe it could work. Maybe. I could fire you any time I wanted. If I hire you.”
“Okay, well, do you have a pen and paper? I can write my references down for you. You can call everyone and get back to me with your rules, and we’ll go from there.” She looked around the stacks of paper, mail and God knew what else. “Or maybe you have a phone or laptop I could type it into, so you don’t lose it.”
He grumbled, then flipped open a laptop on his desk.
Cara cleared the chair off and settled herself in. Which, she knew very well, meant he would have to reach over her to type in his password. She told herself she didn’t do it on purpose.
He grunted, then reached for the keyboard. On the back of his right hand there were a few small scars. Obviously something was wrong with his arm or he wouldn’t have dropped Sweetness’s bin, but she hadn’t noticed the white marks before.
“It’s a scar.”
Busted. “I know.”
“Rule number one. Don’t stare at my scars. Rule number two, don’t ask about them.”
Well, poop. Now she was really curious. “Not a problem. Your scars. Your business.” Maybe she could look it up. Surely the local paper had done a story on him when he came back.
He pulled up an empty document, and she typed in her references, reminding herself multiple times not to stare at his scars. Not to wonder about this strange man with his strange energy.
This so wasn’t going to be easy, and challenges weren’t her strong suit, but it wasn’t as if failing here would be a big deal. All in all, what did she have to lose?
Not a whole lot.
* * *
EVERYTHING ABOUT HIRING Cara screamed bad idea. Bad, tempting idea.
No, the bad idea would be keeping her in that space of his life that would allow this little crush or whatever it was...to linger. Grow. Want.
Sure,
