Trusting Jake (Blueprint To Love Book 1) (19 page)

"What makes you think that?"

"Because he's a team player, Jake. Don't you think it says something about his character that he's running estimating for you?"

"That's what we pay him to do," he pointed out.

Her eyes flashed with annoyance. "Would you agree he handles the department well?"

The unguarded Jenna was making a rare appearance. "Yes. He does a great job."

"And Jeff doesn't love estimating," she reminded. "But, he does it because that's where you need him."

She was right. "So, you're saying if I loaded him up with even more responsibility . . . he'd jump in and do it?"

Jenna nodded. "Your brother would be thrilled if he thought you relied on him." She shook her head. "
You
are your own worst enemy. You claim Jeff doesn't do enough, but you won't take a chance and challenge him with more."

Jake didn't take offense. It was basically an accurate assessment. Still, it was easy to criticize him for not relinquishing control, but much harder to develop an action plan. "What do you think I should hand off to him?"

"The buyouts for one thing," she announced. "You've got more important things to handle. It would give Jeff more ownership of the jobs, make him feel like more of a stakeholder," she added. "I think he could do more with our clients, too."

"Are you crazy?" He did a double-take. "The guy doesn't even own a dress shirt."

She sent him a withering glance. "Like you're any better? Mrs. Reilly's caught you stripping in your office so many times she doesn't even get embarrassed anymore."

His face heated at her teasing tone. "What's your point?"

"Jeff is laid back. Several clients would appreciate his style. I know the subs like him. He's easy to talk to. You, on the other hand-"

"What? Now you're saying people don't like me?" Why exactly had he asked her opinion?

She burst out laughing. "They find you sort of . . . intimidating."

"Intimidating?" Jake was floored. "That's because I don't allow them to make excuses."

Leaning back, she slanted her gaze at him. "Jeff is just as hard on them when they whine . . . but he doesn't scare them."            

"I can't imagine unleashing him on clients," he admitted.

She couldn't hide her smile. "Why not try it? Just once, ask him to prepare a presentation, then sit back and see what he comes up with." 

Though she tried to project an air of wide-eyed innocence, he wasn't buying it.

"You can keep doing it all yourself. Cover half the bases. Or, you could try something different. Maybe you'd be surprised."

"All right," he conceded. "I'll think about it." Jen certainly wasn't lacking in the idea department. And he really
would
consider it. He'd grown increasingly frustrated with his own cursory review of issues. There was never time for more. And there were several ideas Jake would like to explore– if he only had the time.  

The sea of traffic heading the opposite direction toward Washington reminded him the job in Baltimore wouldn't be easy. Regardless of where he found temporary housing, his workers wouldn't have an easy commute.

"This sort of reminds me of the day we met . . . when I picked you up on the side of the road, remember?"

Her mouth curved with a smile. "My first ride with a stranger. I was nervous about trusting you."

"I told you I was trustworthy, didn't I?" The sudden wistful expression in Jen's eyes made his heart nosedive. Hell– now what had he done? She looked like she was about to cry.

"You were true to your word," she admitted, her voice suddenly husky. "You've been– a terrific friend. I'm grateful-"

Jen seemed to have difficulty choosing her words. He held his breath, praying she would finish her sentence before she thought better of it.       

"I'm so glad I took the job. I can't tell you how much I appreciate-" His hands clenched the wheel in anticipation.

"All you've done for me," she finished. "And the kids," she was quick to add. "You've been so kind. I can't thank you enough-"

"Don't thank me," he interrupted, his eagerness deflating. "I love your kids." Dammit, he didn't want to be appreciated. He just wanted– her. Forever. He wanted to cherish her kids. He wanted her love. "I like spending time with them. I don't want to be thanked for that," he said, wincing over his suddenly gruff tone.

Her eyes wide, she hurriedly turned away, her fingers restless as she drummed on the window. "I want you to know that I've loved working for you. I've lo–  enjoyed," she quickly corrected, ". . .having your friendship. That's all."

He released a deep breath, frustration simmering through him. Why did every conversation with her turn dangerous? "Jeez . . . you make it sound as though something awful is about to happen. You're not still worried about Willoughby are you?"

It was safer to steer the subject back to business. Because unfortunately, that's what they were about, Jake acknowledged with a stab of disappointment. Business and friendship. They were a great team and they liked each other. That's what they had in common.

But just below the surface, under the thin veneer of friendship simmered the ever-present, molten, stabbed-in-the-chest pain of a nearly overwhelming desire. They shared that, too.

***

Jenna's stomach tightened with apprehension as the Baltimore skyline loomed before them. It had been six months . . . and she hadn't experienced the desire to return. How would she endure the next few days? When Baldwin recognized her . . . Heck, she might be driving back home tonight.

Alone and unemployed.

"You lived in Baltimore, didn't you?" 

Startled out of her worry, she pulled herself back to the conversation. "Uh– sort of. I lived north of here."

"But you worked around here somewhere, right?"

"Yeah. A. . . design firm. It was pretty small . . . you probably wouldn't have heard of it. Went out of business a year ago."
Another lie
. Turning to the window, she mentally banged her head against it. So much for honesty. Why couldn't she just confess and get it over with?
You know why,
her conscience assailed her.

When she finally came clean, he would realize she'd lied. It would make him question everything she'd ever said. His hard-earned respect would disappear. And she'd be forced to leave. But there was no way Baldwin wouldn't remember her. She needed a plan.

"Did you like it here?"

Once. A long time ago. "Yes, but I like Stafford better," she admitted.

"Me, too. I like steering clear of the beltway." Jake scanned the signs overhead. "I think it's this one." 

Jenna kept her gaze on the skyline, pretending a fascination she didn't feel. It was safer than risking his scrutiny. As jumpy as she was feeling, there was no way those laser-beam eyes would miss her nervousness. Just like the old days, she ticked off the buildings her company had built. But unlike the past, she couldn't ignore the cost to doing business with Whitney Group. She suppressed a shudder when she thought about the pending project. Would Specialty be their next victim?

"I think I may know Baldwin," she offered, her casual tone belying the freight train pounding of her heart.

"Really?" His expression hadn't changed. What equated to an earthshaking reveal for her . . . was just a piece of information for Jake. "I haven't seen him in years. What was his reputation?"

The conversational field was about to turn treacherous. Though she might make it across, it was laden with landmines. "He's . . . a player. A dealmaker."

Jake smiled. "Sounds the same. Back in college, he chased any girl with a pulse."

She startled. "Yeah, I think . . . that's probably accurate."

"How about dinner once we get settled in our rooms? Maybe around seven? I'm sure you'll want to check in with Mona . . . see how the kids are."

No more questions? Her insides liquefied with relief.
One lie undone.
She couldn't prevent Steve from spreading gossip about her, but
at least she'd corrected one falsehood. "That sounds good."

"We'll keep it simple. Maybe the hotel dining room? We have a long day tomorrow so I'd rather have an early night."

She risked a glance at him. Getting through tomorrow would require all her strength. They were scheduled with Willoughby at nine. But their meeting with Baldwin started at seven-thirty.     

"You remembered a dress for tomorrow night, right? Willoughby's got some cocktail thing with the architect and the subs we'll be working with." Unable to hide his grimace of distaste, she smiled.

"It won't kill you to dress up, you know."

"How do you know for sure?" 

For a fleeting moment, she forgot the impending doom of her situation and laughed over his grumpy prediction. "You did fine at the Christmas party," she reminded. He'd looked sexy as hell that night. It had taken a week to shake the mental image of her stripping him out of his tuxedo. Tugging off his tie before unbuttoning his shirt  . . . Her cheeks heated with the memory of her fantasy.

"I only kept my tie on the first hour." Jake's gaze met hers, his expression hopeful. "Maybe we'll be able to cut out after an hour or so?"

She shook her head. "I wouldn't hold my breath."

"How about this," he challenged. "If we don't have to stay all night. . . I'll try to wrap everything up on Wednesday. We could get home a day early."

That gained her attention. Assuming she was still there on Wednesday and still employed with Specialty.

Jake smiled when she sat up straighter. "I've sparked your interest. You're much better at small talk," he admitted. "You get us out of that party early and I'll get you home Wednesday instead of Thursday." 

"Deal." She had nothing to lose. If Baldwin threatened her, then the least of her concerns would be her departure from Baltimore. If he didn't, then Jake signed the contract and she would do her best to protect him. She'd watch his back and pray. Unless. . .

What if she could get to Baldwin? Maybe threaten to reveal what she knew about his shady dealings? Threaten to tell Jake what she knew. The risk was that she could lose. They were college friends. Steve could relay a horrible story about her– yet it would be anchored in truth. She'd been fired– not for what she did . . . but for what she'd refused to do.

"Leave everything to me." If Jake wouldn't protect himself, she'd do it for him. If she pressured Baldwin with her knowledge of his dirty laundry– maybe she could get him to back down on some of his demands on Specialty. Her heart pounding crazily, Jen didn't know which would be worse: failing in her attempt to protect Specialty or– God help her–  Jake discovering what she'd done.

***

This was it. Beads of perspiration slithered along the base of Jen's spine. She laid her fork on the edge of her plate. Jake didn't know it yet, but Steve Baldwin had spotted him and was currently weaving his way through the restaurant to their table. ETA: thirty seconds.

Just barely, she remembered she wasn't supposed to know him well. Picking up her coffee cup, she glanced out the window, forcing her attention to the ships moored in the harbor. Her toes clenching in her pumps, she schooled her expression. Stay cool, she reminded herself.
Don't react
.        

"Jake! Bro– long time no see." Baldwin slapped him on the shoulder before pulling up a chair.

"Steve, it's good to see you. You look great." Glancing across the table at her, he smiled warmly. "Steve, I'd like you to meet my assistant, Jenna Stone."

Just like the Steve she remembered, he didn't wait long to offend. Releasing a low whistle of appreciation, Baldwin grabbed her hand and forcefully shook it. Waiting for the flicker of recognition in his eyes, she resisted the urge to snatch her fingers back.

"Well, she's certainly a stunner, Jake." He held her fingers a moment too long, his gaze appreciative. "It's nice to meet you, Jenny," he emphasized, making her cringe as he toyed with her. The last day– he'd forced her to sit in his office . . . door closed . . . while he described all the things he would do to 'Jenny Cahill'. "Jake told me all about you last night."

Though warmed by the frown of disapproval on Jake's face, she knew better. He may as well get used to Steve's sexist comments if he was going to work closely with Baldwin.

"It's nice to meet you," she acknowledged, her voice politely cool as she extricated her hand and refrained from shuddering. Thankfully, she'd already gone up to her room the previous night when Jake bumped into Baldwin in the lobby.

"It's Jenna," Jake corrected. "Actually, it's Mrs. Stone to you, Steve. Jen's married."

She resisted the urge to smile. Dear, sweet Jake was protecting her. Not since her brothers had anyone tried to protect her like that. Her toes eased up a notch in her pumps. Jake cared . . . even if it was only concern for an employee. She hadn't forgotten how he'd tried to convince her not to go to Baltimore. His concern for Megan had done strange, wistful things to her heart.

"Hey, it's cool." Baldwin winked at her brazenly, his expression openly mocking.