Chapter Four
It had taken her a good fifteen-minute walk down Main Street to cool down after that coffee trip. Despite the liquid rapidly chilling in her arms, she kept walking, willing the steam to stop pouring from her ears. Laurie and Chloe would have to forgive her for bringing back cold coffee.
This was a level nine freak out. A handsome stranger in an expensive suit had just mocked her in front of her friends and neighbors. That wasn’t something she could easily get past. If she could go back in time and slap him, she would. She’d slap that arrogant smile right off his perfectly chiseled jaw. That would make her feel better. At least, that’s what she imagined.
“Sorry, ladies,” she announced as she got back to the office. The work day was nearly over, but they still had some paperwork to finish before they could call it a day. “I had an interesting run-in at the coffee shop, so now your coffee’s cold.”
Chloe and Laurie were both standing next to the secretary’s desk, not listening to a word she was saying. They were staring at the door to Gemma’s office, stupid smiles lighting up both their faces.
“What’s going on?” Gemma set the coffee down and rounded the desk.
“He’s here,” Laurie whispered. She giggled and leaned back onto the desk. “And he’s cute.”
“Who’s here?”
“The nephew,” Chloe answered quickly. She bit her bottom lip and grinned. “And he’s more than cute. He’s smoking.”
Great - not only was this babysitting job going to be distracting enough, but the guy had to be good looking. Gemma doubted she’d be able to get her friends to accomplish anything for the next couple weeks. She’d be better off putting his office in the closet or outside on the curb.
“We’ll see about that,” she said with a determined lunge toward her office door.
She walked into her cozy office to find the naked back of a man facing her. He had pulled off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. Gemma couldn’t help but notice the athletic V shape of his torso or the muscles that rippled with his every move. She stopped dead in her tracks, momentarily confused.
“Um…boss?” A man in an orange beanie stood behind Gemma’s desk. In his hand, he held a crisp new white shirt. He tilted his head toward her, signaling to his friend that they had company.
The half-naked man turned to face her, and Gemma found herself staring at the same face she’d been slapping in her imagination for the past twenty minutes. The coffee house jerk stood in front of her, arrogant grin and all, his sculpted chest bare and apparently unscathed from the hot coffee incident.
“You?” Gemma found herself saying with a shaky voice. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here,” he replied with a tilt of his head. His blue eyes scanned her over as he stood unabashedly half-naked in her office. “I’m Lance Barkley. And this is my assistant, Frankie Bay.”
“Hi ya,” Frankie said with an over enthusiastic nod of his head.
“You’re the nephew?” Gemma found herself unable to peel her eyes away from him. He was just short of six-foot tall with short black wavy hair. The way he held himself told her he was used to expensive suits and staring at women. With a gulp, she closed her eyes and willed herself to calm down.
“Yes, I’m the nephew,” Lance chuckled, the sound sending thrills down her spine. “I’m here for a couple weeks, so don’t worry. Plenty of time for you to ruin the rest of my wardrobe.”
Frankie snickered at the joke. She opened her eyes as Lance took the clean shirt from him and began to pull it on. Anger coursed through her veins, the frustration she’d felt only a half hour ago roaring back to life. “You ran into me.”
He held his hands up in defense, a disbelieving grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Whatever you say.”
She groaned and shook her head. Enough about the coffee. This whole encounter was suddenly about a lot more than the hazards of hot beverages.
“You weren’t supposed to be here until later this week.” Skirting far around him, she moved to her desk and pulled out a notepad. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, at the earliest.”
“I wanted to get a jump start,” he replied, his heavy lidded gaze reaching hers as he slowly buttoned his shirt up. “Maybe even get out of here by Christmas day. Uncle Matthias wants me to familiarize myself with your accounts and practices and then report back to him. Any problems with that?”
They had a lot to accomplish by Christmas day. There was end of year paperwork to complete, tree decorating at the children’s home, the community Christmas party, and so much more. She didn’t have the time to slow down.
“This isn’t how we do things around here,” she replied, with impatience thick in her voice. “This isn’t how we do our holiday season.”
Lance had finally managed to fully clothe himself. Gemma tried to erase the image of him standing there without a shirt from her mind, without success. She glanced at the photography on her walls for help.
“Well, it’s a new day,” He replied, a mocking smile lighting up his face. She had the sudden urge to slap him again. “So, I guess you’re just going to have to roll with it. None of us want to be here in this dinky, forgotten, excuse of a town.”
Frankie raised his hand from the corner of the room. “Not true. I don’t mind it.”
Lance shot him a glare and then returned his attention to her. “So, humor my uncle and let me do my job.”
“You want to get to know our practices?” Gemma swept her hair back and stared at him with mistrust. “How we run things around here?”
He nodded and grinned at her. “Yeah, exactly. Show me what makes this place tick. The sooner I learn, the sooner I can be out of your hair.”
Gemma bit the inside of her cheek and considered his request for a moment. As far as she could see, it all sounded like busy work. Something to keep Mr. Barkley’s terrible nephew out of trouble. She could indulge him for a few days. Maybe they’d even see an increase in funding for their troubles. But that didn’t mean she had to make it easy on him.
A pretty boy like Lance Barkley probably didn’t like to get his hands dirty. She could take this opportunity to show him how the other half lived, especially how they lived in New Hope. Tomorrow was a Tuesday, which gave her the perfect idea.
“What are you, about a large?” She stood from her desk and walked around it, considering his shape. “Maybe an extra large?”
“A large,” he replied hesitantly, suddenly uncomfortable with her attention. “Why?”
“Just a minute.”
She hurried out of her office toward Laurie’s desk where both girls were still waiting. They gave her doe eyes and leapt to question her, their voices coming out in strained whispers.
“Did you see him?”
“Isn’t he gorgeous?”
“What did he say? How long is he staying?”
“Aren’t you glad you’re suddenly single?”
Gemma hushed them with one sharp gesture of her hand. “That man is nothing but trouble. I want both of you to stay away from him. He’s an arrogant spoiled brat who has nothing better to do than distract us from our busiest season of the year.”
Their eyes grew wide as they stared at her. Gemma wasn’t the type of person to rush to quick judgment on someone. If she already felt that way, he had to be bad.
“Fine,” Chloe said with a pout. “But what are we going to do about the guy? We’re kind of stuck with him.”
“That may be,” Gemma replied, as she pulled the bottom drawer of Laurie’s desk open. Reaching into the mass of pink that appeared, she pulled out a few items. “But that doesn’t mean we have to make it enjoyable for him. I think we can give him a good lesson on getting his hands dirty. Ricardo might have a job or two worth his skill level.”
Laurie and Chloe snickered as Gemma gave them a knowing look. She headed back into her office and threw the items into Lance’s hands. He looked at her questioningly and then unraveled the gifts to find a pink t-shirt and a sparkling pink rhinestone leash.
“Um…what’s this?” He held the t-shirt up to his chest. In bold purple lettering, it said Ricardo’s Pet Shelter across the front.
“Your uniform for tomorrow morning.” She smiled to herself as she settled back into her office chair. Frankie was laughing at the pink leash as his boss held it up. “We like to have a hands-on policy at the foundation. Ricardo’s is one of our main grantees. We volunteer there every Tuesday.”
“I don’t do pink.” The shirt hung limply from the tips of his finger, as if it were going to infect him.
“And I don’t do babysitting,” she shot back with a tilt of her head. “But I guess tomorrow’s a new day.”
They stared each other down across the expanse of her office, not quite knowing what either of them had signed up for in that moment.