Chapter Five
By early Sunday afternoon the sun had come out and melted most of the remaining snow and ice, and the temperatures climbed to a more typical low sixties. The roads thawed rapidly and most of the guests left as soon as they could. Savannah was among the last to leave, having stayed to see if she could offer the Harwoods any help. She wound up gathering up the extra pillows and blankets and bringing them to the main building.
Savannah thought about her conversation with Becky when she’d brought in the first load.
“Did you have a good time last night, honey?”
Savannah smiled at the endearment. To Becky everyone was either honey or darlin’. If she called someone Mr. or Ms., it was a good bet she either didn’t know them at all or she didn’t like them. “Yes, I did. Felicity’s Ball is always fun.”
“That’s good to hear. Good Lord, that’s a lot of blankets and pillows,” Becky commented.
“I’m afraid it’s not all of them, either.”
“I had no idea we had so many. Well, I suppose that’s good for these kinds of situations.” She paused and said, “You and your young man looked mighty cozy this morning.”
Savannah almost blushed. “Oh, that was…an accident. He’s not my young man. We knew each other a long time ago. We hadn’t seen each other in years before last night.”
“Really? I thought you’d come together to the ball.”
“No. We both came stag.” She stripped off a pillowcase. “The strangest thing happened last night. Harlan and I got locked in the coat closet. The only lock is on the outside and I couldn’t figure out who would have locked us in. If there had been kids around I’d have blamed it on them. But there weren’t any kids around, were there?”
“Children? No. But you say you were locked in?” Becky shot her a sharp glance. “From the outside?”
“That’s right. If Avery hadn’t come looking for us I’m not sure how long we’d have been stuck.”
Stifling a laugh, Becky shook her head. “She’s at it again.”
“Who? You know who it might have been?”
“No, honey, just talking to myself. Well, I’m off to gather up more.” She stopped at the door and waited for Savannah to look up. “He’s some fine-lookin’ man. If I was your age and single I’d sure be interested.” She didn’t wait for a comment but left Savannah to finish her task of stripping the pillowcases from the pillows.
But you don’t know our history.
History, shmistory. You think he’s as hot or hotter now than you ever did.
Well, so what? I can appreciate good looks. It doesn’t have to mean a thing.
Once home she showered, put on clean clothes and spent the rest of the day doing chores and trying not to think about Harlan Sullivan. It didn’t work.
Really, that kiss had hardly lasted long enough to count as a real kiss.
Oh, yeah? Then why can’t I stop thinking about it? About the kiss. About waking up in his arms.
Because…Harlan had packed a lot of heat into that simple kiss. What would it be like to take it further? To kiss him. To have him kiss me. To have his hands on me…and mine on him.
You’re not going to find out because that would just be stupid, her practical side told her. You’re not stupid.
Not usually. But where Harlan was concerned? She had a dismal feeling that she could still be very stupid about him.
When Savannah arrived at work the next day Bill told her Harlan would be there shortly and to start gathering the information on the projects he’d yet to complete. He’d stopped taking new ones some time before, but a couple were ongoing. They had finished their limited construction at the airfield and hadn’t started anything new there. They’d known there was more in the offing but Bill had been hesitant to take on anything else since he was actively trying to sell the business. Since the airport was Travis and his friends’ business, Savannah didn’t think there would be a problem for Harlan to take over. The other current job, giving a gas station convenience store a new facade, would be wrapped up soon.
She wondered what, besides remodeling the airfield and building the winery, Harlan had in mind to do in Whiskey River. He’d said he was tired of building homes exclusively. He wanted to go in a different direction, to take on some commercial construction, as well as continuing to build homes. Well, she’d find out soon enough. As long as she kept her job, anyway.
*
Monday morning Harlan met with Bill Griffith at the construction office. That took most of the morning, in large part due to Bill wanting to talk about everything in great detail. Harlan didn’t mind. He not only got a feel for the industrial market in Whiskey River, it also allowed him to watch Savannah in action. It was quickly obvious, both from what he observed and what Bill said, that Savannah was indispensable to her boss.
Harlan and Bill went to the conference room, a fairly small room just big enough to hold a medium-sized table, chairs and very little else.
They’d both picked up coffee on their way in. “This is good coffee,” Harlan said, a little surprised. Most of the offices he went to had either a single cup brewer or a coffee maker that never had quite the right proportion of coffee and water.
“Coffee service. Savannah has their number. They’ve been a godsend. They take care of everything, including the water cooler, and make damn good coffee to boot.”
Bill sipped coffee, then set down the cup. “I had Savannah gather up some of the files of our recent and current projects you’ll want to see.” He pushed the stack toward Harlan. “She’ll join us a bit later with some of the earlier projects.”
Harlan picked up the one on top. “Wildcat Tower.” He’d seen Wildcat Tower, of course. You could hardly miss it since it was the town’s first—and only—high-rise and it occupied the entire southwest corner of the square. It was beautiful, and though it was a modern building, the architect had managed to make it blend in with the rest of the buildings on the square.
The city council had tried to enforce a rule that edifices around the square had to be in an approved historic style. But the residents and business owners overruled them. The buildings surrounding the square in the center of town remained a mix of ages and styles. Some, such as Booze’s Place and the Stargazer Hotel off the square, had been there since Whiskey River’s inception and retained their original edifices. Others were newer and looked it. They made for an interesting center of town.
“You built the Kellys’ high-rise apartment building?”
“That we did. That’s the last large-scale project we built. Several years ago now.”
“Who was the architect? He or she is very talented.”
“She,” Savannah said, walking in with an armful of file folders and set them on the table in front of Harlan. “Her name is Dana DeLong.”
“Is she from Whiskey River?”
“No. San Antonio. But I heard a rumor that she’s moving to Whiskey River sometime soon.”
“Good to know. I’d like to see some of her other projects.”
“Even if she doesn’t move here, I’m sure she’ll be happy to talk to you.”
“Can you get me her number?” Harlan knew that Travis and his partners at the airfield wanted to tear down and remodel the existing terminal. But they hadn’t found an architect yet to design the new one.
“Yes, I’ll be happy to. When you look over everything, you’ll see that getting good subs is particularly difficult here. You probably know that, though.”
Harlan nodded. “I think that’s universal in the construction business.”
Bill laughed. “True, true.”
“I’ll go get that phone number. I have the subs we’ve used with each project filed, with notes on each one. I’ll bring that to you as well.”
Harlan watched her walk out. Working with Savannah, seeing her daily was going to be…interesting. Especially since he’d known the minute he kissed her that one kiss would never be enough.
“I don’t mind telling you,” Bill said, elbows on the conference room table, “I don’t know what I’d do without Savannah. She keeps this office running smoothly and knows a good deal about site management too. She’s had to take over for me before when I was out sick.” He grimaced and added, “Which was far too often this last year.”
Harlan nodded.
“Savannah’s very good with the clients,” Bill continued. “Even when they’re being a pain.”
“You don’t need to worry, Bill. As I told you before, I don’t plan on firing either Savannah or Liv.”
“I’m glad to hear it. They’re both good employees. I wouldn’t want my retirement to make them lose their jobs.”
“Set your mind at rest. Now what, besides the gas station, are you still working on? Do you need any help with anything?”
“No, no. The gas station is all I’m working on now. Thanks for offering but it’s almost finished.” He sighed and took another sip of coffee. “I still have mixed feelings about taking retirement. The wife already has three cruises planned.” Glumly, he added, “I don’t even like the ocean.”
Harlan laughed. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”
“That’s exactly what she says,” Bill grumbled.