Not Quite Mine (Not Quite series) (18 page)

She didn’t meet his eyes. “In a way.”

“Where?”

“Excuse me?”

“Where? Where are you doing this? Cuz I’ve not seen the backside of you walking out the door all week and I don’t think you’ve bought a house.”

Oh, no…this isn’t good.
“I have friends.”

“Male friends?”

She hadn’t seen that coming. “Maybe. What’s this about, Jack? Since when do you dig into my personal life?”

“Dammit, Katie, you know I care. You dug into my personal life not too long ago and I couldn’t be happier for it. I want to see you find the same happiness.”

She’d talked with Monica for the first time when Jack had gotten pissing drunk after he’d asked Jessie to marry him and she’d refused. It was comical, really. Jack had posed as a waiter…a broke waiter working at The Morrison and not the son of
the
Morrison. As a single mom, Jessie wanted nothing to do with dating or marrying a man who had no bigger aspirations than waiting tables. And Jack, the fool, posed as a broke loser because he was tired of women going after him for his money. The two of them had nearly lost their future together because they hadn’t been honest with each other. Sure, Jessie might have been honest about not wanting to fall in love with Jack…but she was in love. It took Monica and Katie working together to hook them up to make it all
happily ever after
in the end.

“I’m going through a few changes right now, Jack. I’m going to be fine.”

Jack rubbed his chin. “You’d tell me if you’re in any trouble…have anything you need help with?”

She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “If I’m ever in a position where I don’t know what to do…or my options are washed up, I’d call you.”

“People care about you.”

“I know that.”

“You can always call on Dean if I’m not here.”

Her gaze shot to his.

He didn’t flinch.

What do you know?
“Or Mikey. They’re both nearby.”

Jack nodded. “Right. Dean is closer. You work with him.”

“He reminds me who the boss is every chance he gets.”

Jack let one corner of his mouth lift up. “Promise me you’ll call if you need me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Promise me!”

“OK, OK…I promise to call if I
need
you.” Right now she was doing fine on her own. She had a PI working day and night to find Savannah’s birth mom and Katelyn was juggling living in two places at once. She didn’t
need
anything other than a good night’s sleep.

Katie leaned against one of the finished walls in the huge open space that would eventually be the lobby of the hotel. Beside her, Jo sipped a beer and focused on what her boss was saying.

Dean stood in front of at least three dozen workers, all of them with drinks in their hands, and thanked them for all their hard work.

“Does he always do this?” Katie asked Jo.

“Every time we hit this phase and then again when the project is complete. It’s his way of keeping the employees and subs happy.”

“Paying them makes them happy.”

Jo snorted. “Yeah, but blowing off steam and sharing a beer builds loyalty. At least that’s what Dean says.”

Katie looked around the room and the smiling faces and men listening attentively to their boss. She couldn’t argue with his approach to loyalty. Work had come to a halt just after noon and a large grill was set up outside. A caterer had arrived with tables, chairs, food, and drinks. Not only was Dean springing for the party, everyone on site was getting paid a full day’s wages to drink with the boss.

No, Katie couldn’t argue with Dean’s approach.

She sipped her champagne, thankful that Dean had the good sense to make sure a couple of bottles were available. Beer wasn’t her drink of choice.

“I know I say this every time, but I couldn’t do this without all of you,” Dean told the crowd. “You’re dependable and skilled…the best damn crew I’ve ever worked with.”

“We’re the only crew you’ve ever worked with,” someone shouted.

Several men laughed.

“Not true,” Dean corrected him. “Five years ago I went through a group of framers who couldn’t be counted on to save my life. Then there was that excuse for an electrician…no, you guys are what gives Prescott Construction its good name.”

“And a few good women!” Jo yelled across the room.

Katie smiled at Jo, lifted her glass in salute to the statement.

“Even if one of them steals the boss’s hat and never gives it back.” The comment came from inside the crowd and all eyes were on Katie. She still wore Dean’s hard hat while his had gone through a number of pranks. First was the strip of pink paint then came a few rhinestones glued into the brim. Dean switched the hat out once the words “I’m so pretty” were printed on the back.

Yet he never asked for
his
hat back.

And Katie never offered it.

That, she knew, was their way of teasing each other. Even after Jack had flown back to Texas and she’d had a brief but firm conversation with Dean saying that she wasn’t ready to have him kissing her right now.

She couldn’t come out and tell him she
never
wanted him kissing her, because that would have been a lie.

“He can afford another one,” Katie told the men.

Dean caught her eye and spoke directly to her. “Miss Morrison is hard to say no to.”

“Ha! Then why are there only five niches down the halls and not ten?”

Laughter erupted from the men.

Someone hissed like a cat.

“Touché.”

Dean turned back to his crew and continued his pep talk. He spoke about the next phase and his desire to have the hotel completed before the holidays. He finished up quickly and encouraged everyone to eat.

Music filled the room from an impressive portable player and work was completely forgotten.

Dean snagged an open bottle of sparkling wine from a bucket of ice as he walked toward her. “Looks like you could use a refill.”

Katie lifted her glass.

“Oh, is it
Wait on the help
day? I could use another beer, boss,” Jo said.

Dean chuckled and turned to get her one.

Steve was a step ahead of Dean and handed Jo a beer with a wink. “Here ya go, Jo.”

Jo’s face turned beet red and her gaze drifted to the floor. “Thanks.”

Looked like things had gotten interesting between these two.
At last count, Jo had been snarky and standoffish and now there was a coy smile and knowing blush. Katie sipped her wine and watched.

“Nice speech, Dean,” Steve commented.

“I meant every word. I have a great crew.”

“You make it easy for them. It’s hard to get work in this economy.”

“Even when work wasn’t this hard to get, these men rose above the average. You know it. I know it.”

Steve nodded and lifted his beer. “For many more projects to come.”

Dean toasted and turned his attention back to Katie. “What about you, Katie? You think you’ll want to do this again after Jack’s hotel is finished?”

She’d asked herself that question a few times. The job itself had thus far served its goal. It gave her direction and purpose. Then again, so did Savannah. Juggling the secret and the job…and Dean.

“I think that’s a no,” Jo said.

“No. I’d do it again. Will do it again.”

“But?” Dean watched her intently.

“I think I’ll take this to a new level. Manage others to do what I do.”

“More than a worker bee.”

“Is that what I am?”

“Hardly,” Jo said over her beer. “Oh, c’mon,” she replied when all three of them stared at her. “Worker bees don’t set their own hours and come and go as they please.”

Katie couldn’t help but see that Jo didn’t think very well of her. For some reason she wanted Jo’s approval.

“You’re right. Bosses are the ones who work beyond nine to five and come in on the weekends,” Dean defended her. “Katie has worked hard on this project.”

“We all have.” Jo didn’t seem affected by his words or his rising anger.

Katie stepped in. “I realize that, unlike anyone else here, I’m the only one who hasn’t had to work to afford to live. I can’t alter the fact
that I was born to money, which I wouldn’t change for the world. My father worked hard to make his fortune and Jack is doing the same. I’m just trying to figure out where I fit, Jo. I know I am the boss’s daughter, or in this case, sister, and it would be damn hard for Dean to fire me, but that doesn’t make me a slacker.”

Jo’s face had gone blank. “I didn’t call you a slacker.”

“Ya kinda did, Josephine,” Steve said under his breath.

“Oh, hell…I didn’t mean to. Sorry, Katie.”

“It’s OK.”

“No, it’s not. I’ve been a little edgy lately, not that that’s an excuse. My mother would slap my butt if she knew I’d been so rude.”

Jo simply vocalized what so many others thought. And that was refreshing…rude, but refreshing.

“No worries.”

Dean and Steve let the women work it out while they drank their beer. Steve broke the tension with a laugh. “
Slap your butt.
I’d like to see that.”

Jo swiveled on him. “I’ll bet you would. And
don’t
call me Josephine!”

Steve’s eyes grew wide. “Put your claws away, woman. Maybe food is the medicine you need.” He drew her in the direction of the food line leaving Dean and Katie alone.

“Wonder what has her all fired up?”

Katie thought of her own little bundle of
fired up
and shrugged. “Who knows? Let it go.”

“Still…”

“People have judged me every day of my life, Dean. That isn’t going to change. The truth is, I’ve never had to work and you
can’t
fire me.”

“Seems to me you’ve made up for that by working harder, darlin’.”

“I’m working harder because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing half the time.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Oh, please. Everything is a learning curve. And my boss’s budget is as tight as an ant’s ass.”

Dean gifted her with his signature smile complete with the cleft in his chin and sparkle in his gray eyes. “I could put in a word with your boss, get a bigger budget.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“OK, OK…put
your
claws away, woman,” he repeated Steve’s words. “C’mon, you need food, too.” Dean slung an arm over her shoulders and shoved her toward the buffet.

The same barbeque they had shared when he’d kissed her over two weeks ago.

Patrick sauntered into The Morrison in Houston as if he owned the place.

He glanced behind the front desk and noted an elderly woman who probably claimed at least eight grandchildren as her own.

Miss May, he said to himself.

He offered a friendly smile and walked straight for the elevators.

The second set.
Katelyn had told him the first ones didn’t access the penthouse level and the passkey wouldn’t work.

Guests shuffled by with suitcases in hand. There were plenty of Stetsons and cowboy boots. So many that he thought maybe he should be wearing one or the other to fit in. He didn’t have time to think on it long before the elevator made a resounding
ding
and the doors opened.

A few guests stepped into the elevator beside him and pressed the buttons for their floors.

He stepped in and waved a mechanical key over an invisible sensor that would push the elevator to the top floor.

He stared at the numbers as the elevator ascended, completely aware of the coy glances he was given as he rode the elevator with strangers.

Twice the elevator stopped and guests stepped out. Each one turned to take a second look his way.

Their actions told him one of two things: Whoever had dropped a baby off at Katelyn’s didn’t have a passkey. Or if they did, they certainly didn’t catch the elevator with another hotel guest or someone would have seen something.

Patrick had stayed in a few fancy hotels in his time, but he hadn’t yet had the privilege of sleeping in a penthouse.

Katelyn had mentioned that people noticed her when she walked by, but he thought it was because of her striking appearance and larger-than-life presence when she walked into a room. Patrick was none of those things and he’d been seen by a half dozen people, including one employee within minutes of walking in the door.