Still no response. He was getting frustrated, so he played his final card. “And when the week is over, I’ll arrange our divorce. Trouble-free, plenty of alimony.”
Taylor tucked her paper napkin under the edge of her empty plate and repositioned her glass of milk. Her movements were precise, almost uncomfortable. She didn’t meet his eyes. “So Hankins arrives tomorrow?”
He nodded. He wasn’t sure how to read her, but it sounded as if she was actually considering coming to Montana. “With his three grandchildren. Irma’s tidying up his cabin as we speak.”
At the mention of his housekeeper’s name, Taylor’s expression grew warm and a little wistful. “How is Irma?”
“She’s fine.” He shouldn’t be surprised that Taylor remembered Irma fondly, when the woman had spoiled her rotten.
He’d never understood why Irma had doted on Taylor so much, fixing all her favorite meals and picking up after her without the slightest complaint. She’d happily acted as the handmaid Taylor expected.
Maybe it was because it had been so long since a woman had lived in the Cassidy ranch house. Thirty-six years, to be exact. Since Jake’s mother had left, abandoning her husband and newborn son.
Jake cut off that line of thought. Wallowing in the distant past wouldn’t change anything. He focused on the problem at hand. “Well, Taylor, what about it?”
Her wistful expression faded. “Can’t you just tell Hankins I went to the city for a week of shopping? He won’t miss me.”
Jake shook his head. “I know Hankins, and he’s not going to sign off on the land until he sees you again.”
“So you’re stuck.”
“Yes, I’m stuck.”
She glanced up at a clock on the wall. “And I need to get back to work.” She took a long drink, finishing off her milk. She stood.
“Dammit, Taylor.” He reached out to capture her wrist. “Will you do it?”
She stared down at his hand on her warm skin.
Jake followed her gaze, wishing he hadn’t touched her. Currents of electricity rocketed up his arm and spread through his body. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see sparks flying from the point of contact.
Five months, he thought, and the effects were still the same.
He released his grasp slowly, trying to make it look casual. As if he’d felt nothing at all.
“Sorry,” he said under his breath.
Taylor drew herself up. “As I said, I have to get back to work.”
“And the plan?”
“Jake, I swore I’d never set foot on your ranch again.”
“I remember.”
“But I’ll think about it. Meet me outside at three o’clock.”
Chapter Two
She didn’t really have a choice. Only spite and false pride would have kept her in Boston. Jake’s employees needed her help. Jake needed her help. She wasn’t someone who turned her back on people. Not anymore.
It would be a business deal. A simple, straightforward business deal. An acting assignment. She would leave her heart and her confused emotions out of it. When the week was over she would come back to Boston and make her life better.
Jake’s money would buy her enough time to find a better job when she came back. Maybe in a restaurant where the boss didn’t verbally assault his workers whenever the mood struck. Maybe in a place where the customers actually knew how to tip.
At three o’clock Jake came back to the restaurant. He led her to a rented sport utility vehicle at the curb. She gave him directions to her apartment and he pulled into traffic.
“When’s our flight?” she asked.
Jake glanced over at her. “You’ll help me?”
She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Sure.”
“Thank you.” The words were simple but sincere.
“No problem. I know how much you care about the ranch.” More than he had about her, but she didn’t want to go there. “It would be petty not to help you just because we don’t like each other anymore.” She paused, staring out the window at inner city Boston. “Anyway, this arrangement will be good for both of us, so it’s not like I’m really doing you a favor.”
Jake shook his head. “You’re definitely doing me a favor. Especially on such short notice.”
“When’s our flight?”
“Six a.m. I already bought you a round-trip ticket. And I’ve got a room reserved for you at one of the airport hotels. We won’t have to fight traffic in the morning.”
“You were that sure I’d come?”
“No, just desperate.”
A few minutes later they pulled up in front of her building. The facade was weathered brick, its windows dirty and cracked. She led Jake up the worn staircase and down the hall to her studio apartment.
He stepped into the single room and looked around. She saw it through his eyes: the peeling institutional green walls, the stains and cigarette bums on the vinyl flooring. The battered dresser and wardrobe, the narrow bed. The forlorn jade plant on the windowsill where it could soak up what little light came down between the apartment building and its neighbor.
“It’s not much,” she said, filling the silence, “but it’s home.”
He walked the two steps to the window and peered down into the alley.
Taylor grabbed a duffel bag—her only remaining piece of luggage—and went to her dresser. “We need to talk about money.”
“Right,” he said, turning from the window. “My offer from this morning stands. Four times what you make, plus paying off your credit card bills. And of course I’ll cover any expenses.”
She might be bailing him out of a tough position, but his offer was much too generous. “I’ll come for expenses and a stipend, but I can’t accept the money to pay off my debts. They’re my debts, Jake, and I have to take care of them myself. I don’t need to be rescued, just compensated for my time. And it’s not as if I’m going to be working that hard. A couple of dinners with Mr. Hankins and his grandchildren is not a big deal.”
“It’s a big deal to me.”
“I don’t want charity.”
“Fine. I won’t pay your debts.”
“Good. But there is one other thing we need to agree on. I’m definitely going to lose my job. Sleazy Steve won’t forgive me for skipping off for a week without notice.”
“Sleazy Steve?” Jake asked, sounding mad.
Taylor had gotten so used to her boss’s nickname that she didn’t even think about it anymore. But she realized it might be a little off-putting. “He has a...reputation. But don’t worry, he never tried anything on me. And if he had, he would’ve ended up with a broken wrist. I took a self-defense class when I was living at the YWCA.”
“You shouldn’t be working for someone like that.”
“I couldn’t risk looking for another job. Any interruption in my income would have meant losing this apartment. As for finding a new job, if I can’t find one right away I’m going to have to ask you to pay my rent for a month.”
“That’s fair,” Jake said.
“And I’ll need