More to Give (23 page)

“Did you hear me?” Callie asked, her voice rising an octave. “They know we’re sleeping together.”

Sam didn’t see the problem. As Callie had pointed out, they were two single, consenting adults who could do whatever they pleased, so long as they didn’t do it in the village park in broad daylight.

“And that bothers you?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “I mean yes.” Callie spun out of the chair and marched over to the window. “I don’t know.”

He waited, giving her time to think. Time to make sense of whatever worries were bouncing around in that head of hers. When she continued to stare out the window in silence, Sam crossed the office and put his arms around her.

“We aren’t doing anything wrong, Callie.”

“I know that,” she said around the thumbnail clenched between her teeth. “In my head.”

“But?”

Relaxing into him, she dropped her head onto his chest. “I didn’t think about how this would look to people who don’t know us.”

Turning her around, Sam nudged Callie’s chin until she met his eye. “Did anyone in that room insult you? Let me know who it was, and I’ll walk back down there and set them straight.”

Toying with the button on his shirt, Callie grinned. “You’d do that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you,” he said. And meant it.

Her eyes went wide, and the smile shifted into an O.

“Try not to look so surprised,” Sam said, using levity to downplay the confession he’d never intended to share.

“You mean that, don’t you?” Callie pulled away, and Sam had to force himself to let her go. “You can put your shining armor away,” she said. “No one insulted me.” With a sigh, she added, “I better get back to the party.”

If Sam had needed confirmation that Callie’s feelings hadn’t changed, he got it in that moment.

“Callie?”

“Yes?” she said, looking back.

“Will I see you tonight?”

After studying the floor for several seconds, she said, “You know where to find me.” Then she walked out.

CHAPTER 23

C
allie lingered at the cottage after Sam had left on Monday morning. She needed time to think without him there, and without the chaos she was likely to find across the street. Though their night together had been like all the others, strictly physical and satisfying, what he’d said in his office still bothered her.

He
would
do anything for her.

She appreciated his willingness to fight on her behalf, but the statement had served as a blaring reminder of their inequality. The point wasn’t that Sam
would
do anything for her, but that he
could
. Sam had the connections, the money, and the power to ride to her rescue at any time, in any situation.

Callie could not offer the same in return.

She’d been in this position before. Josh had been the breadwinner while Callie had stayed home, attempting to be the perfect wife. He’d controlled their finances, decided where they would vacation, and told her what car she would drive. The house they lived in had been Josh’s place before they’d ever met.

Callie had brought nothing to their relationship but herself. And she hadn’t been enough.

While rinsing out her mug in the sink, she reminded herself that Sam was not Josh. And since she and Sam would not be exchanging vows, the possibility of infidelity didn’t exist. But for once in her life, Callie wanted to feel like an equal. Like she had something real to offer.

And then she recognized where her mind was going. Why was feeling like she was enough the hardest thing for her to master? She had survived losing everything when Josh died. Faced down the attorneys and the creditors, the abandonment by their friends, and the humiliation of having her life dragged through the papers. She’d gone back to school for her degree, changed her name, and started over.

But six years down the line, Callie still had nothing to show for her life but a mouthy bird, a box of books, and an unhealthy obsession with chocolate and peanut butter. Not exactly sparkling fodder for an online dating ad.

As she slipped on her tennis shoes, Callie dug deep to find the inner Pollyanna that Henri teased her about. She would not throw herself a pity party, and wallowing about what you didn’t have did nothing to change things. This job was going to boost her résumé. Callie was going to have her pick of jobs. There would be no more begging for a chance.

She needed to turn the Sunset Harbor Inn into a sparkling boutique jewel of the mid-Atlantic in the next five weeks, and then everything would change. Which meant she’d better get to work.

With renewed determination, Callie stepped through the cottage door and almost burst into tears. The inn parking lot was dotted with cars Callie had never seen before, and people were milling about as if waiting to receive their orders. Orders that she would give them.

Callie charged through the crowd, yelling out greetings as she went, and found Jack in a panic behind his counter. “They all want to know what to do.” He followed Callie into her office, practically stepping on her heels. “I told them we had to wait for you. Where were you?”

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Callie said, tossing her purse into a desk drawer. “But I’m here now.” She took the notepad she’d used on Saturday out of her briefcase and transcribed four names onto a Post-it before handing it to her trusty clerk. “Find these people and show them where the materials are for floor installation. Then get them working in the rooms at this end of the hall, two people per room.”

Jack studied the note. “I know these people.”

“I figured you might.” Callie carried the notepad with her around the desk. “Is Lot here?”

“Yeah,” he said. “He’s helping Olaf with some furniture stuff.”

Callie grinned. “Olaf is back?”

“Well, sure,” Jack said. “Everyone is back. And then some.”

Giving Jack a spontaneous hug, Callie could feel her Pollyanna doing a happy dance in her soul. “We’re going to do this, Jack. We’re going to get this project done.”

After recovering from the shock of Callie’s sudden embrace, Jack hugged her back. “And we don’t have to do it all by ourselves!”

Callie laughed. “No, we don’t. Now, you get the floors going and I’ll assign rooms for painting.” Dragging Jack out of the office, she added, “We’ll have the upstairs ready for floors in no time.”

An hour later, Callie had a dozen applications for Yvonne to process so that everyone would get paid. She considered running them over to the Anchor, but didn’t want to leave in case she was needed. Instead, she would call with a warning, and then send them through the fax.

If her luck held, the ancient machine would cooperate.

“Anchor Inn. How may I help you?” Yvonne answered.

“You’re not going to like me much today,” Callie said by way of greeting. “I’m sending over a dozen applications for processing.”

“A dozen?” Yvonne asked.

“Yes, ma’am. All but four are at the base rate. I’ve marked the exceptions.”

“But how?”

“Never underestimate the power of making children laugh,” Callie said. “Can you transfer me in to Sam? I want to tell him the good news.”

“Sure,” Yvonne replied, “but he has a meeting in a few minutes. He won’t have much time to talk.”

“No problem,” Callie said. “This won’t take long.”

“Okay.” Yvonne put her on hold, and Callie hummed along with the classical tune as she waited for Sam to pick up.

The music ended, and then Sam said, “Good morning. I hope you have good news.”

“Very good news.” Callie’s cheeks hurt from the amount of smiling she’d done in the last hour. “Twelve,” she said. “Twelve people reported for duty. I have four new floor installers and everyone else is wielding paint rollers.”

“I guess I should make a spectacle of myself more often,” he said, his voice not as enthusiastic as she’d expected. “I’m glad they showed up.”

“You realize what this means, don’t you?” Callie asked. “We’re still digging out of a hole, since we were so far behind, but if we push really hard, we can get this done. By the deadline.”

Sam mumbled something Callie didn’t understand. “What was that?” she asked.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said more clearly. “I was talking to someone else. Someone is here for a meeting. I need to go.”

“Sam,” Callie said, confused about why he wasn’t more excited, “we’re going to hit this deadline.”

“Yes, I hear you. I need to go.” He mumbled again, his voice muted as if he’d put his hand over the receiver; then he came back. “I’ll be over soon.” A click, and the line went dead.

What the hell meeting could be more important than this project? Not that she expected Sam to keep anyone waiting, but he could have sounded a bit happier that their plan had worked. These people were only saving the project. No big deal.

“Hey there,” said a voice from her office doorway.

Callie glanced up to see Will Parsons sticking her head in. “Hey, yourself. I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“I hope I’m not bothering you,” Will said. “I should have called first. This place looks crazy busy.”

Beaming with excitement, Callie nodded. “Yes, it does. Thank goodness. But you’re not bothering me at all. I have some documents to fax, but I can talk and do that at the same time.”

Motioning for Will to have a seat, Callie rolled her chair to the long table behind her desk and laid the stack of applications beside the fax machine. Knowing the machine could be cranky when fed too much, Callie pulled four sheets and stuck them in the top.

“So what’s up?” she asked Will. “Is this an official or a friendly visit?”

“Official,” Will said.

A hint of nervousness settled in Callie’s gut. If Will expected to see more of the hotel finished, this could go badly. “Okay. How can I help you?”

“I was wondering what you planned to do once this renovation is finished. Or rather,” Will hemmed, “I
know
someone who is wondering.”

“You mean where am I going to work?” Callie asked. “I don’t actually know yet, but why?”

Will leaned forward in her chair. “I know I haven’t technically seen what you can do here, but I did a little online search and found images of what you’ve done before. The decorating is fantastic.”

Callie wasn’t sure how she felt about being googled, but she appreciated the compliment.

“Thank you. Choosing and arranging the décor is my favorite part.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Will pulled a brochure from her bag and held it out for Callie. “This is the largest real estate business on the island. They manage most of the rental properties and are looking to give many of them a makeover. Since everything here is furnished and most of it hasn’t been updated for decades, they could use your help.”

“I . . .” Callie hesitated, studying the brochure in her hand. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“It wouldn’t be a permanent position,” Will warned, “but you could stay on Anchor a bit longer. At least six months would be my guess. And you never know, something else might come open after that.”

Her visitor sounded more positive than not that something else would become available. But why did Will want Callie to stay on the island? If this was about giving her a reason to stay with Sam, then the nosy islanders had seriously crossed a line.

“This does sound like something I’d enjoy,” Callie said. “But I’m a little confused. Why are you going out of your way to keep me here? I hope this has nothing to do with Sam and me.”

Will shook her head. “Whatever is going on between you and Sam has nothing to do with this. To be honest, I’m sort of hedging a bet.”

“I don’t follow.”

“If my business takes off like I’m hoping it will, my life is going to get crazy busy. I’ve never been in charge of everything before,” Will admitted. “I used to be an accountant by trade, so I can handle the numbers, but the amount of details involved in planning a wedding, especially from a distance, is more than I expected.”

Callie could see where a less experienced planner could be overwhelmed, especially when dealing with a high-stress event like a wedding. “I’m not sure where I come into this.”

Will motioned toward the giant hotel diagram on the wall behind Callie. “You’re the detail person. I can see from here that you’ve thought of everything down to the trim and toilet seats.”

Blinking, Callie said, “There
are
a lot of details that go into a project like this. But I’m not planning a wedding; I’m making over a building. The building doesn’t have breakdowns or throw temper tantrums. And it doesn’t come with an overbearing mother. Or two.”

“I wouldn’t make you deal with the clients,” Will said. “I need someone to handle the details while
I
handle the clients. And the books. And finding more clients. I can’t keep everything going here if I’m on the road, traveling to bridal shows.”

This was quickly starting to sound like a job offer. In a field Callie had never considered. But it would allow her to stay on this island, which she’d love to do regardless of what happened between her and Sam. And she could put her nomad life to rest, put down roots, and maybe have a real place of her own.

“But what if your business doesn’t take off?” Callie asked.

Will sighed. “Then you get to spend an extra six months here doing something you love before finding another job elsewhere. But you should probably know that I’m an independently wealthy woman.” With a grin, she added, “I can afford you. What do you say?”

Callie couldn’t be expected to give an answer right now. “I’d need to talk to the real estate office to see what they’re offering.”

“Debbie is available whenever you are.”

If Will thought she wasn’t good with details, she was selling herself short.

“I’m going to be busy here for the foreseeable future,” Callie said. “Would she be willing to meet on a Sunday?”

“Consider it done,” Will said, bouncing out of her chair. “Would next Sunday work?”

“Um . . . sure.”

“I’ll call you with a time.” Will hefted her bag onto her shoulder. “The address is there on the brochure. I hope you’ll really consider this.”

Callie stood to walk Will out. “I will. And thanks for having such faith in me.”

“Not a problem.” Will stepped into the lobby. “I’ll be calling soon.”

As her new friend and unexpected benefactor made her exit, Callie returned her attention to the slip of glossy paper in her hand. As far as Mondays went, this one was turning out better than most. The project was back on track, and she might have found her own new job.

Or the job had found her. Either way, Callie felt a sense of accomplishment, and a trace of relief that she wouldn’t need Sam to help her find a new position. Though she worried that he might question her motives for staying on the island. Her impending departure was the harbinger that signified the end of their relationship.

What would it mean if that departure was no longer coming? Would Sam want to keep seeing her? Would he end their affair no matter what? And could Callie handle staying on Anchor Island and not having Sam as part of her life?

They’d been sleeping together less than a week. This wasn’t the great love of her life. This was great sex. Sam had been adamant that he would never marry again. And Callie wasn’t taking that plunge again unless she found someone who saw her as an equal. The chances of that man being Sam were highly unlikely.

This time was about Callie and her life. Her career. Wedding planning might not have been on her radar, but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t consider it. Working for Will could be a fun use of her skills and talents and provide her with the stability she craved. Plus, something told Callie that Will would be a generous, respectful boss.

Independently wealthy. Wouldn’t that be nice?

That settled it. If the decorating job was worth her time, then Callie would take it. And if Sam had an issue with her staying on Anchor, that would be his problem to deal with, not hers.