North Dakota Weddings (60 page)

Jack smiled down at Barb, careful to keep his gaze on her face and not on the bait she dangled.

“It’s difficult to find time to talk to you with this new schedule. How about dinner tonight? I could share some of my ideas then, away from the pressure of the office.” She toyed with the solitaire diamond hanging against the bare skin at the edge of her low-cut blouse just above…

Jack jerked his gaze back up to her eyes. In them he witnessed a look of victory, as though she’d seen his eyes traveling where they ought not to go. “I’m sorry, Barb, but I have a project that I’m working on at home, too, and I have to complete that soon. Maybe you could come in, say, about seven in the morning. We could meet before things heat up around here.”

Inside, he cringed at his word choice. He suspected Barb wanted things to heat up.

She smiled, a slight quiver on her shiny, glossed lips. “Seven it is. Before things heat up.” She slid from the conference table, and Jack couldn’t help himself; he watched as her willowy legs carried her to the conference room door. She tugged the door open with a slight twist and sassy glance back in his direction, catching his look once again.

Jack flamed inside, angry that any woman would use her attributes like that. He raged that he’d been watching her without even realizing it, before he could stop himself.

He had no feelings toward her whatsoever, not even lust. Rubbing his temples, he closed his eyes. He had so much work to do in addition to completing his pump. He wanted to test that soon. But all he could think about was Rayne. She must be terribly hurt.

Maybe…could that be for the best?

M
y contract included a noncompete clause. What about that?” Rayne toyed with the chicken breast on her plate and glanced up at Mr. Clark. She refused to eat the broccoli that came with her dish for fear it would end up in her teeth.

In his midthirties, Carvis Clark wore expensive-looking tan slacks and a cream-colored polo shirt with a tweed sports jacket. He looked—and she hated herself for this—very good. Since when did she make a habit of noticing handsome men?

Since…Jack?
Rayne hated the fact that Jack was so handsome, because she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed him. An image of Barb sitting on the conference table, crossing her legs in a short skirt, while Jack stood there, burned in her thoughts. Bile seared the back of her throat.

Mr. Clark cleared his throat, tugging her focus back to the interview. She took a sip of water, hoping it would hide the heat she felt in her face.

He’d invited her to meet him at Giovanni’s, a pricey Italian restaurant in West Fargo. Initially, he’d wanted to fly her out to Southern California for the interview, but with FountainTech’s schedule, and the fact that Rayne had recently taken off to be with her father, she couldn’t afford the time to get away. So, here she was, sitting across from Mr. Carvis Clark, vice president of Elemental Innovations, Inc.

He flashed his perfect, white smile—the guy was as slick as they came, Rayne thought.

“California doesn’t recognize noncompete clauses, even one signed in another state, and regardless, you might find that yours has expired by now. And if it makes you feel better, we’ve made plans to move into some new market niches, which I can’t share with you just yet, but we’ve no plans to compete with FountainTech directly. ”

Rayne offered a flat smile. He had a point there. She’d worried needlessly, and yet she’d agreed to meet him in spite of her concerns.

Mr. Clark laid his silverware on the side of his plate and his napkin on the table, indicating he’d finished.

Rayne was relieved and hoped he wouldn’t expect her to stay for dessert. She’d barely touched the food on her plate as it was. She glanced at her watch. Nine thirty already?

“It’s getting late. I should probably go. You’ve given me enough to consider for right now.”

Mr. Clark flashed his credit card, and the waiter appeared quickly, taking it from him. “We don’t have a lot of time here, Rayne. What do you think?”

“I think I’m going to need at least a couple of days before I can decide.”

He inhaled deeply, giving Rayne the sense he was disappointed.

“I’m afraid I can only give you one. You see, we’ve waited a few weeks for you as it is, and we have a big project that needs to move forward. With or without you.” With his chin ducked, he studied her from beneath thick brows. “I’ll be waiting for your answer tomorrow evening.”

Rayne felt as if she practically stumbled out of the elevator as it opened onto the FountainTech floor. She’d forgotten her laptop, leaving it in her office in her rush to escape her frustration with Jack, with the difficult schedule, yet again with Harold for not promoting her, and finally with Barb. Didn’t the woman have any sense of self-respect?

At least it was ten at night, and she didn’t have to worry about running into another employee. Everyone was burned out and ready to leave as soon as they could these last couple of weeks. She fumbled with her office door and, finally entering, flipped on the lights and flopped into her chair.

One day. She had one day to decide. Jack would be furious with her.

An image of Jack smiling down at Barb, who had effectively situated herself to reveal her ample bosom, flashed in Rayne’s mind.

“Ugh!” Rayne threw a file at the wall. It slid down, spilling papers across the floor.

She sagged in the chair. Since when had she become a violent person? What was happening to her? This thing with Jack was turning her into a monster. A monster who couldn’t work. Who couldn’t produce the magic fountains that everyone expected.

Even Simon had noticed. She’d stood in the conference room this afternoon, pointing at all the little touches she’d added to make the fountain sing, but did it? She claimed it had, but it was as if she were in a poorly remade rendition of
The Emperor’s New Clothes
.

There were no clothes, and only one person was brave enough to stand up to the truth. In this case, Simon had been all too happy to point out that nothing Rayne had added to the water sculpture had made it special.

Jack hadn’t said a word. He believed in her. And since he believed in her—maybe even loved her—could she in good conscience desert him in the middle of this project?

Desert him when he claimed he needed her to make FountainTech the best it could be?

A little voice whispered that he said those same things to Barb. Rayne stared at the ceiling, unwilling to listen. She didn’t believe that for a minute. Or at least, she didn’t want to believe it.

Rayne and Jack—they had something special; they’d connected in a way that couples rarely found. Or was she fooling herself? Was it all part of her overactive imagination?

Her father would certainly say so. What words of wisdom would he give her for this moment? For a minute, she wished she were sitting at the kitchen table at her parents’ farmhouse, listening to her father complain about the weather or lecture her about the best method to harvest wheat.

She could hear him now, giving her the advice she longed to hear.

Don’t count your chickens—no
, that seemed too cliché even for her father. Rayne exhaled loudly, wondering why his proverbs couldn’t come to her when she actually
needed
them.

Something was amiss on her desk and drew her attention from her thoughts. Her laptop wasn’t in her office. Could she actually have been that stupid? That distracted?

“Oh come on,” she said, frustrated for leaving her laptop in the conference room. Hopefully, it was still there.

The halls remained lit during all hours, and Rayne was thankful for that as she made her way to the conference room. Through the glass doors, Rayne could see her laptop still resting on the table. She wished someone had thought to bring it to her office. Everyone was probably too beat to notice or care, the same as Rayne.

She shoved through the doors, relieved they weren’t locked, and grabbed the laptop, then left. Harold spoke in hushed but agitated tones from his office, and she found herself involuntarily creeping past, as though she had something to hide.

Did she? She’d just finished dining with Carvis Clark, of a somewhat competitive company, though he’d claimed they weren’t in direct competition.

Oh Jack…what should I do?
She knew exactly what Jack would say, should she bring it up. But wasn’t he only thinking of himself and his career? Why shouldn’t she do the same?

How was she to make a decision when she felt so torn?
Lord, could You please, this one time, show me what to do?
She squeezed her eyes shut, marveling that she’d gone from wondering if she should have taken this job or stayed on the farm where she belonged, according to her father, to wondering if she should keep this job or move on to the next.

When she opened her eyes, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Harold peering at her from the doorway of his office.

His eyes narrowed.

Jack stared at the water pump resting on his dining table. Pulling resources from the local hardware store and a few items special ordered on eBay, he’d been able to jury-rig the basic concept behind his pump design—a powerful but streamlined pumping system.

He wanted to enjoy this moment and reflected that Harold had seemed intrigued with his schematics. After quitting EI to free himself from seeing Kiera every day, Jack had worked to come up with a new idea for the next six months, and had even considered starting his own company. That’s when he’d gotten the call that FountainTech wanted to talk to him.

Jack only had to couple Rayne’s creativity with the latest in technology, and companies would stand in line to acquire a unique water sculpture design created by the exclusive FountainTech, Incorporated.

Harold mentioned using the new design in their bid for the next contract, but Jack was anxious to test it first. The only problem was—Jack slid a chair back from the table and slumped onto it—he’d hurt Rayne. No matter how he’d tried to convince himself that it was for the best, he couldn’t get the look on her face out of his mind.

He’d caught her dismay when she’d rushed from the conference room this afternoon. An ache pumped against his ribs—how had he allowed her to leave, allowed his attention to be pulled away by the likes of Barb? In his own defense, he reminded himself that Barb worked under him, too, that she had wanted to share her ideas with him, and he was obligated to listen.

Yeah, right.

Jack kicked the leg of the table, regretting he’d ever allowed himself to grow close enough to Rayne to kiss her. She didn’t deserve to be hurt by a cad like him. His stupidity could cost the company as well.

He tapped his cell phone against the edge of the table. Should he call her? Or should he not? For too long already he’d deluded himself into thinking that he could have it both ways—he could pursue Rayne romantically and continue to work with her while she injected the creative spark into the fountains.

Together, Jack and Rayne would create the most spectacular designs the world had ever seen while they explored their feelings for each other. In the meantime, they would ignore the conflict in the workplace their office romance would inevitably cause. All the sticky situations, the jealousy and favoritism that others would point out.

Uh-huh. They’d only attempted to make this work for a short two weeks, and already things had failed miserably. He pictured a fountain when the power had been cut, gurgling and sputtering until it died.

The only way they could be together, really, was if Jack gave up his dreams for FountainTech, for his life, to make something of himself this time.

If he could be sure where things would lead, if he could be sure that Rayne would end up loving him—would he be willing to give it all up for her? Wasn’t she worth that?

He smiled to himself a little, remembering how it felt to kiss her. Bolting from the chair, he headed for the fridge to get a soda to wet his dry mouth.

But things were too new, too fresh, for him to know that yet. Weren’t they? Jack dialed Rayne’s number. He needed to hear her voice. When the call went through to her voice mail, Jack scrambled to think of something coherent to say.