Worth the Risk (5 page)

He strode into his dad’s office without reservation. “Hey, Dad. You ready for me?”

“Sure. Have a seat.” He put aside the report in his hands.

Dean took the chair across from the desk and decided to spare any small talk. “Thanks again for giving me the opportunity to get the 66 deal. I know our joint efforts will revitalize the Route like no other two companies can.”

“I see you’re cocky as ever, but Global Site’s been around a long time, son.”

“Exactly. That’s why you need me. My staff is young, energetic. We’re looking at preservation in new ways. The climate is changing, and I mean that philosophically as well as environmentally. We’re working on and applying cutting edge ways to preserve monuments with sustainable resources.” Dean tried not to bounce in his seat, but talking about this got him fired up. “I’ve got interns with innovative course concentrations in architecture, project planning, advocacy, and fieldwork. The ideas they’re flinging at me are phenomenal.”

A small smile spread across his father’s face. “I never doubted you’d lead us into a future that keeps tradition but sets new standards.”

The compliment—the first in a long time—reminded Dean that when his dad wanted to, he could motivate anyone. Employees worldwide looked to him for guidance and respected his vast knowledge.

“I learned from the best,” Dean said.

“That you did.” He leaned forward onto his desk. “Now tell me the specifics.”

“The PowerPoint’s in your inbox. Want to pull it up?”

“I’ll read it over the weekend.”

A moment of disappointment hit Dean. He’d hoped for a quick answer. A “you’re hired” before they’d finished speaking. But that wasn’t realistic. Samantha had probably supplied a written presentation and it was only fair his dad give equal attention to both.

“We want to kick off in Texas with teams heading east and west simultaneously. With additional cooperation from the Route 66 associations in Arizona and Missouri, specialized teams will hit every National Register site, building, structure, object, and district.”

“You see fanning out as the best way to approach it?”

“Absolutely. By commissioning crews to work concurrently, we’ll draw more attention to our efforts. In addition, the scope of work will benefit from communication between teams on what’s working and what might not be.”

“You’re talking about a lot of manpower.”

“I’ve got advanced apprentices and graduate students chomping at the bit to work with experienced and skilled preservationists to restore sites. Taking the Route off the Watch List
is
going to take time. Especially when you consider we can’t neglect other cultural heritage sites around the world. But this project will garner us national attention the likes of which no other preservation effort in this country has seen. The shit load of time we dedicate to it will pay off in spades for both local and state economies
and
bring huge consideration to our industry.”

“It’s the oddest thing,” his dad said, the lines around his eyes deepening and the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “Hearing some of my words come back at me.”

Dean smiled. “It might not have seemed like it at the time, but I was listening. There’s no way I could have started my own company without taking with me everything I learned from you.”

“What else?”

“I’ve got two phenomenal restoration ecologists working for me. Have you heard of them?” Recos were the up and comers in the preservation movement, and Dean didn’t think World Heritage had any employed. Yet.

“I’ve met a few but haven’t had a reason to hire one.”

“They’ll reverse any damage to the ecology in the areas we focus on and repair and replant where necessary. The Route is more than just a road, and we want to paint with broad strokes.” Dean leaned back to let those last words sink in. “Paint with broad strokes” was a phrase his mom used all the time. She’d say it when she wanted to remind someone—namely Dean or his dad—that it’s important to look beyond what’s right in front of you.

“Not a bad idea.” Light danced in his father’s eyes, and Dean wondered if it were his pitch or the way sunlight slanted through the office window.

His dad always got excited at the start of a new project. Every beginning added years to his life because the older man felt personally responsible for protecting the sites his company helped.

“We also propose limited relief to the Salton Sea. We think lending assistance to the abandoned, salt-encrusted structures along the shoreline is worthwhile. Some buildings aren’t historic, but it’s worth a look.”

“You’ve always had a soft spot for water.”

Dean tried to hide just how true that was as a vivid picture of Crater Lake flashed in his mind. Samantha’s arms were around his neck, his hands on her lower back, nothing between their hips but clothing Dean had silently cursed. They’d stood in a secluded spot along the lake’s rim early one morning, and the emotion he saw in Samantha’s eyes that day had been far deeper than the breathtaking blue water of the lake. He’d never seen it in another girl’s eyes before, and he guessed it was love. The racing of his own heart confirmed he’d felt the same way. But they never said the words.

“Yeah, I guess I have.”

“And now that you’re in California, there’s no shortage.”

“You should come with Mom the next time she visits.” Dean meant it. His mom had visited several times over the past year, but his dad had always claimed prior commitments. Dean and his mom didn’t discuss it because they both knew he stayed behind to make Dean feel guilty. Still, Dean desperately wanted to show his father his new life.

His dad undid the top button of his polo shirt. “That’s the first time you’ve asked.”

Dean’s gut clenched. “I figure you should see the company you’ll be partnering with.”
Screw you, Dad
. If his father wanted an invitation, then he’d get one in the form of a business proposition.

“Being a cocky sonofabitch isn’t scoring you any extra points.”

“It’s called confidence, and I’m confident my company is the best one to support the core programs you value most here at World Heritage while setting newer standards that will catapult us beyond recognized methods. I know how you work, Dad, and I can take my people and contacts and seamlessly integrate with yours.”

“You’re not using nepotism to get the job, are you, son?” He raised a wrinkled hand to his chin. The thin gold wedding band—which his father had gotten repaired several times because he refused to take it off while working in the field—gleamed as if it had recently been polished.

Since when did being William Malloy’s son score him an advantage? “Just stating the facts. Whether you like it or not, I know this company as well as my own. I’m sure Samantha Bennett gave an excellent presentation, but Global Site can’t compete with what I can offer you.”

Something flashed in his dad’s eyes, but Dean hadn’t a clue what it was. He pushed aside the heart-sinking thought that in his dad’s mind, Samantha had sealed the deal for her company. “I think they can. Sam Bennett’s got passion for this project in spades.”

No doubt. Dean remembered her passion like it was yesterday. She’d turned him inside out with her enthusiasm for their travels and their lovemaking. And despite the reason for their paths crossing, damn if he didn’t crave to touch her again. “Are you telling me you’ve already made a decision?”

“No, I haven’t. Despite our past year, I plan to carefully consider both presentations and have an answer Monday morning. There’s no room for hard feelings in business. I’ll make the best decision for WHF and Route 66. Period.”

“Sounds fair.” Dean edged toward the end of his chair. “The PowerPoint includes every gas station, motel, café, trading post, and drive-in theater threatened by urban development or abandonment and decay in the more rural areas. I’ll have my phone on, so call me if you have any questions over the weekend.”

“Will do.”

Dean stood. “We’re meeting Henry at one. He’s made a reservation at Café Vermecci.”

“Some things never change, huh?” His dad pushed his chair back and met Dean eye to eye. His shoulders relaxed and Dean was reminded of how effortlessly his dad slipped into different modes of operation.

But more than that, his dad’s words stirred up a bothersome revelation: Dean hadn’t gotten Samantha out of his system. Not by a long shot.

“Yeah. Pain in the ass that can be.” Dean turned. “Leave at twelve forty-five?” he said over his shoulder.

“Sounds good.”

Dean followed the hallway to a small office available to business associates when they were in town. The chair behind the desk squeaked as he landed with a
thud
. He lifted his hands and laced his fingers behind his head while he leaned back.

After a moment, his body sagged with heaviness, as if sludge ran through his veins. He refused to believe Samantha meant anything more to him than a quick slip between the sheets. It had to be his libido protesting lack of action lately. Nothing more than lust jumpstarted by a pretty face. But he knew that wasn’t true.
Pretty
didn’t begin to describe her charm and how without even trying, she’d commandeered every thought in the back of his mind. And not just today.

Dammit. Giving in to his selfish need for her would be the stupidest thing he could do. But resisting her would be worse.

Maybe she wouldn’t call. Maybe his ego had read more into her reaction than was there. He hoped not. Because he knew his response to her had been anything but subtle.

The buzz of his cell jolted him from his deliberations. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen. Not Samantha.

“Thayer. What’s up?” Dean said to his VP, his voice rougher than usual.

“You tell me. Thought you’d call in by now. Everything okay?”

Shit
. Nothing about his morning had gone as planned. “Fine. Just finished up my meeting. We’ll know Monday morning.”

“Gut?” Thayer asked, squeezing hopefulness into the tiny word.

“Not sure. Global Site left a pretty big impression.”

“I doubt it was as big as yours.”

Dean heard the wisecrack in his friend’s voice. Yeah, Dean had definitely delivered a personal as well as professional impact. “Listen, I’m a little preoccupied at the moment. I’ll call you back this afternoon.”

“It’s the hot environmentalist from Global Site, isn’t it?”

His lips spread into a weak smile. Thayer’s sixth sense had pegged it. The guy had been telling Dean to get laid for weeks. “It’s not what you think.”

“It rarely is. But my hunches are pretty accurate. Whatever you do, Dean, don’t screw up the contract.”

“Hanging up now.” He tossed the phone on the desk, his body tensing much as it had with McCall. Thayer only meant to remind him of his priorities, but at the moment, a sexy-as-hell woman who now shared his devotion for the environment took the top spot on his priority list.

Idiot
flashed in his mind in neon green lettering. No matter how bad an idea it was, he realized that if he let the weekend go by without pursuing Samantha, he’d regret it forever.

“Thank you.” She’d changed into jeans and a white V-neck T-shirt, and she’d let her shoulder-length hair down.

“And can you repeat that?”

“Thank you?”

“No. Fuzzy naval. I like the way your cheeks flush when you say it.” The grin on his face and the sparkle in his eyes told Samantha she wasn’t the only one enchanted.

That
only made her feel worse. If she let Dean get the upper hand, she’d lose what little confidence she’d managed to muster on her way to meet him. Throw her into a room with top executives from around the world and she could fend for herself. Throw Dean Malloy at her and he zapped her of every coherent thought.

“Sh-shut up,” she sputtered.

“Oh, I see it works with those words, too.”

“Still a big tease.” She eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he flirted with all the girls he met, but secretly pleased they’d immediately fallen into an easy banter. Their competition for the Route 66 account obviously wasn’t on the table this evening. And now that she sat here with him, away from anything work related, she stupidly figured she should make the most of it.

After all, she’d wondered for years what it would be like to see him again.

“Only with the people I like. And I didn’t tease you that much, did I?”