Risky Business (4 page)

“That's exactly what happened—except for one point.”

“Do enlighten me. Please.”

“It's not your business. It's mine.”

“Come again?” Brandon and Theo said at the same time.

Her eyes scanned the crowd of people who were hanging on their every word, as though realizing for the first time that there were more people than she and Theo in the room. She boosted the baby higher in her arms and cleared her throat. “My name is Allison Whitley, and I'm the new owner.”

Two hundred pounds of irate male flesh prowled the landing's tiny kitchen in the early morning hours, taking up every square inch of space and oxygen. One thing was clear—Theoren Lacroix was too hulking and volatile to ever belong in an enclosed space of any kind, much less this teensy kitchen.

Allison stood on the opposite side of the two-seater table in the center of the room, tapping her foot and watching him with a mixture of annoyance and desperation. Annoyance because he was throwing a bona fide tantrum about her being his new boss, and because he'd simultaneously saved her from burning and nearly drowned her. And annoyance at herself for setting the damn fire in the first place. That was definitely not the first impression she'd been hoping to make as the new business owner in town.

Desperation because he was clearly so angry at the idea of working for her that he might walk away, which would be the worst possible outcome she could think of. Lowell told her that the company only had two employees: a manager who also acted as the mechanic, and a secretary. If Theoren left, how would she ever figure out how to run the business? Who would teach the tourists renting their boats how to operate them, the secretary? Lowell said she wasn't good for much of anything except answering the phone, and nobody in their right mind would rent a boat from someone who was filled with terror at the idea of setting foot on one.

Yeah. Maybe she hadn't thought this plan out as much as she'd believed she had.
Too late now
. She'd reminded herself of that grim fact enough times that the words were starting to be her mantra.

Actually, as of a few hours ago, she had a new mantra.
Don't think about it.

She could live with the aggravation and desperation that Theoren evoked in her, as long as it kept her from the other thought threatening to take precedence in her mind—that thought being about how he'd looked wearing nothing but a pair of sopping wet boxer shorts, as he had been a few short hours earlier on the deck of his houseboat.

Nope. Because she was his boss and that would be totally inappropriate.

He paced to the sink and paused to stare out the window. Allison's eyes settled on his backside, now clad in worn jeans.

Don't think about it.

She wrenched her gaze to the table and the cup of chamomile tea she'd poured an hour earlier. It was cold now, but she couldn't bring herself to bully past him to the microwave to warm it up.

“Theoren . . . will you just sit down so we can talk about this civilly?”

“It's Theo. And what was it that you wanted to civilly talk about?”

For the moment, annoyance won the battle over her desperation—and lust. “Don't play stupid. You know we have a lot to talk about or else you wouldn't still be here throwing a tantrum like a . . . like a . . . hungry bear.”

He prowled to the table, narrow eyed, and braced his hands on it, leaning toward her. “Have you ever seen a hungry bear? Because they don't throw tantrums. They devour.”

She mimicked his pose, leaning in, getting in his face. “Are you going to devour me?” The second the words crossed her lips, her cheeks heated.

Stop thinking about that, Allison. For real, this time.

If she hadn't been his employer and fresh off a messy divorce, and if she hadn't been only a month done with breastfeeding and barely back to feeling like her body was her own—and if Theo didn't hate her for claiming ownership of Cloud Nine—she would have welcomed a good, old-fashioned devouring, the kind she'd always imagined she deserved, if only the world were a more perfect place and men weren't such insufferable assholes.

The insufferable asshole presently staring daggers at her pressed his lips together, his body tensing, like it took all his strength to hold back that fire gleaming behind his eyes. Then, without warning, a hard, loud laugh burst out of him that made her jump. Muttering in French, he returned to the window.

“The French is getting annoying, by the way. But I'm sure that's part of your grand plan.”

“I have a lot of grand plans, but none of them involve you.”

“Why, exactly, are you so angry at me?”

“Because Cloud Nine is mine.” His attention snapped to the stack of paper on the table, a proposed contract he'd had drawn up right before Lowell's assets were frozen. He'd brought the contract with him when he showed up in Cloud Nine's office less than an hour after the crowds dispersed and she'd returned to the landing to put Katie to sleep in the portable crib she'd set up in the larger of the two bedrooms, the only one with a bed.

She set her hand on the other stack of papers on the table, the legal proof that she was now the sole C.E.O. of Cloud Nine Incorporated and sole owner of the landing property. “But it's not yours. It's mine.” She hoped her answer sounded as strong as she meant it to, with quiet authority, as though her conscience wasn't engaged in a tug-of-war with her brain over the unappealing position her sudden ownership put him in.

As infuriating as Theo was, she couldn't help seeing the situation from his point of view. He'd been poised to buy the company, and he had to feel as though she was stealing it from under his nose. In a way, Theo was a victim of Lowell's hubris and greed as much as Allison was. But that didn't mean she didn't have a legitimate claim to it, and an equally legitimate reason for turning down the offer to buy Cloud Nine that he'd made her a half hour earlier.

Hence, the tantrum and threat to devour her.

It was a dangerous, thin line to walk. If he quit, then her failure was practically guaranteed because she was in no way qualified to run a boat rental company. One might call that pessimism, but Allison was determined to turn over a new leaf as a realist. No more head in the sand like she'd done while married, when she'd repeatedly allowed her determination to be optimistic bulldoze over scary, real-life concerns as if she were the love child of Mary Poppins and Mr. Rogers.

“I've worked at Cloud Nine for ten years, operated it on my own for five. I have a stake in this company, a history, and you come sweeping in here like a hurricane. You're going to run this business into the ground—if you don't burn it to the ground first.”

Cheap shot about her fire mishap aside, she knew in her heart that he was wrong. Failing was not an option. Because if she ran the business into the ground, what then? How would she support herself and Katie? She'd be back to the same dismal options she'd had before Lowell's attorney had presented Cloud Nine as part of their assets in the divorce.

She could not and would not fail, because more powerful than her fears was her iron will to do right by her daughter and make something of herself. There were no forces in the world greater than that kind of determination. “You don't know the first thing about me.”

Eyebrows raised, he gave an incredulous snort. “Want to bet?” He speared a finger toward the window. “In case you hadn't noticed, this is a boat rental company and you're afraid of water. How fucked-up is that?” His shout reverberated off the kitchen walls.

Allison pressed her palms against the table, refusing to cower. “Oh, it's pretty fucked-up. I get that. Water is my curse, always has been and always will be. But I'm not afraid of it; I hate it. You, of all people, should understand the difference between fear and hate.”

“Lady, you don't know the first thing about me,” he snarled, throwing her words back in her face.

She did, though. After she was rescued from the water, she might have been soaking wet and pissed off, but she'd noticed that he kept his houseboat in meticulous condition inside and outside, which meant he took care of the things that were important to him; he had a lot of close friends and neighbors who had dropped everything to help him, which meant he was a good man and good neighbor; and he'd kept Cloud Nine running despite Lowell's neglect, which meant he had a keen business sense.

He cared deeply about the people in his life, his work, and his home, which was why she also knew that the reason he hated her was that he was afraid of losing everything he cared about. It didn't take a genius to figure that out, and she didn't blame him. She probably would have hated her, too, if she'd been in his position.

There wasn't anything she could do about that now except leverage the things he cared about to persuade him to stay on as her employee. “I'm not going to run Cloud Nine into the ground because you're not going to let that happen. You're going to get me up to speed on the business and teach me everything I need to know to help it thrive.”

His expression turned hard. “No. It's going to thrive because you're going to sell it to me.”

She ignored the bait. “We'll start later this morning, going over the financials and next year's calendar.”

He faked an exaggeratedly blithe shake of his head. “Sorry, I already have plans for today, meeting with my lawyer to draw up a new sales contract and contacting the bank about cutting a down payment check.”

She marched out of the kitchen, through the dark, smoke-scented lobby to the office's back door. She turned to find him watching her, his shoulder propped against the wall near the kitchen.

With as much aplomb as she could manage, she opened the door and attempted to usher him out with a sweep of her hand. “Sounds like we both need to get some sleep because it's going to be a busy day.”

He pushed off the wall. Back to giving off that angry bear vibe, he didn't so much swagger as stalk her with slow deliberate steps across the office until he towered over her, close enough that her chest brushed his stomach. Though his expression was still hard, the fire in his eyes had returned in full force. She held her ground and held his gaze.

“Good night, Theoren.”

He answered her in a quiet growl of French that felt more like a threat than parting pleasantries.

She'd taken French in high school because the football quarterback she'd had a crush on had taken it, too. But she hadn't been studious enough to earn the position of the awkward, nerdy girl he turned to to do his French homework for him. That had been Teresa Showalter. French class hadn't taught Allison anything except how to ask someone in French what their name was or where she might find the restroom—and that high school was utterly unfair. It certainly hadn't provided her with any curse words or clever retorts to lob back at a seething Frenchman.

So she did the only thing her training as a politician's wife had taught her—how to make nice with loathsome people while manipulating a situation to skew it in her favor. God knew she'd seen Lowell do that enough, along with every other politician and their spouses she was forced to socialize with. Reaching between their bodies, she wedged her fingers into the palm of his right hand and shook it.

“I'm glad we reached an understanding. I know I didn't thank you earlier, and I'm sorry for the oversight because, the truth is, even though you nearly drowned me, I'm quite grateful that you didn't let me or our business burn.” She put the emphasis on
our
, hoping to tap into the possessiveness he felt for the business. “We have a lot of work to do before May and I'm looking forward to rolling up my sleeves and getting to it, with your help—starting bright and early this morning.”

He wriggled out of her grip. “
Our
business?”

She smiled brightly. “Good night.”

And then she shut the door in his face, locked it, and walked away before he had a chance to spew more ugly French curses at her or cast any more angry bear glares her way.

***

Bright and early came far too fast for Allison, but Katie was nothing if not punctual when it came to waking up hungry and cranky. Six a.m. on the dot, as usual. Allison sat cross-legged on the bed in the only furnished room on the second floor, Katie in her lap sucking enthusiastically on her bottle of formula.

She wished Katie hadn't been in such a hurry to wean from nursing, because Allison hadn't been ready to give that up, but, although Katie was normally very easygoing, it was one issue about which Allison hadn't been able to change her mind. Still, Allison tried to keep the time between them in the morning quiet and special, a few mandatory minutes of peace with her child before the craziness of the day began. She'd started that routine during Lowell's trial and she rued the hard truth that there would come a day that Katie grew out of needing these early morning cuddles.

As they sat, she took stock of the room they'd slept in. The queen-size bed had sheets and a blanket, and she'd found a hand towel and toilet paper in the attached bathroom, but little else.

Her original plan had been to scope out the landing on Thursday evening, then find an inexpensive hotel for the night and return in the morning to meet Cloud Nine's two employees. She'd planned to ease into ownership of Cloud Nine slowly so as not to interfere with the employees' established routine, with the idea that she'd apartment shop during the week in advance of next weekend, when the truck delivering the mobile storage unit carrying the contents of her old house was scheduled to arrive from Buffalo, along with her sister and brother to help her move it all in.

When she'd arrived, she'd been delighted to find that Cloud Nine's office was a converted house, with a second story that included a furnished bedroom—
furnished
being a loose term. Lowell had failed to mention that. But staying here saved her the expense of a hotel room, which she really couldn't afford. Hence, why she'd attempted to stave off the house's chill by getting a cozy fire going.

She supposed she could have returned to her parents' house in Buffalo for the night, or found that hotel room after all, given the fire damage and burnt odor, but since it seemed that she and Theo were already locked in a territorial standoff, she didn't think it played in her favor to be gone from the place. So much for easing in slowly.