Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash Read online

  “You could drive my car,” she added.

  “What?” His voice croaked with disappointment.

  “We’ll switch cars.” She smiled brightly. “You don’t have a sore hand so you can drive my standard. I’ll come along later, in your car.”

  His mouth flattened in horror. Her Neon was so rusty, he’d probably fall through the floor. No goddamn way. “Or I could come just drive back and pick you up at eight thirty,” he said quickly.

  “That is such a good idea.” She kissed his cheek.

  He sighed at her slick maneuvering. Of course there was no reason to drag her in at six am other than he wanted her company. But he wasn’t in the habit of considering others, usually set his agenda and barged forward. Obstacles were shoved aside or flattened.

  And with Three Brooks, the only remaining obstacle was Wally. Get rid of Wally, hire a new manager—a pragmatic, professional one—and move on to his next project. And in between, enjoy Jenna, who was certainly making this backwater town a very pleasant place to be.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jenna fed Peanut a piece of carrot then gave his shoulder a quick scratch and guided him back to the kennel. “Enough grass for now, my man. I actually have to work today.”

  She strode back to the trailer. Twenty minutes to change and add a dab of makeup. Her heart was pounding a little too quickly, but it wasn’t because Burke was coming. She had this relationship totally under control.

  Hugging herself, she bounced down the hall. He was fun and exciting and surprisingly nice. Not nice like Colin but nice in a different way. Hard and soft at the same time, an iron hand in a velvet glove. She shook her head, uncomfortable with the analogy.

  Gloves always came off.

  Didn’t matter though. She needed to indulge in a man once in a while, and Burke was this year’s indulgence. He was leaving in a week or so. It was perfect.

  She pressed her speed dial, surprised when her sister answered. “Good morning, Em. Glad I reached you. How are things?”

  “Fine.” Sleep crusted Emily’s voice. “But I’m really tired.”

  “Don’t you have classes today?”

  “Yeah, but we’re not doing much. And the material is so stupid. Why are you calling anyway? I thought we were supposed to text.”

  “I have been texting. You haven’t been answering. Besides, they gave me a work phone with unlimited calling, Internet and everything.” She gave a happy skip, remembering Burke’s statement that she could call anywhere in North America. “And I wanted to tell you that Peanut is getting better. His hair is growing back, he has more energy—”

  “That’s great, really great.” Emily’s voice faltered for a moment. “Sis, I want to come home.”

  “Come home? You mean for the weekend?”

  “No…I mean for good. Maybe Wally would give me my summer job back. It was fun grooming and hanging out. I miss everyone, even mean old Frances.”

  Jenna’s legs wobbled. She sank into the kitchen chair, gripping the small phone, struggling to hear Emily’s voice over the painful roaring in her ears. “But we paid all that money,” she finally managed. “Borrowed, scraped. You’re doing so well—”

  “I’m failing.”

  Failing. And probably Trevor had just dumped her. Jenna squeezed her eyes shut, biting back her despair. Wouldn’t do any good to yell. Emily always molded her life around her current boyfriend, tended to fall apart when left alone. That fatal gene ran deep.

  “Trevor and I broke up,” Emily said. “He hooked up with this girl with a big nose, someone he met golfing. If only we could have afforded lessons. If I’d gone golfing with him, it never would have happened.”

  Jenna’s throat clamped so tightly she couldn’t speak.

  “So, would you talk to Wally?” Emily went on. “See about getting me a job? You’re his top employee.”

  “I told you before,” Jenna said, “he’s not the manager now.”

  “Right, well the new guy then. Can you talk to the new guy?”

  The new guy’s car rolled into the driveway, crunching gravel under its gleaming tires and casting a long shadow.

  “I have to go.” Jenna muttered, wiping at her eyes. “I’ll call you tonight. But go to your classes. Don’t be rash. And don’t let Trevor tank your life.”

  She closed the phone and rushed into the bathroom. Damn cheap mascara. She rubbed the black off her cheeks, added a quick touch-up and hurried back down the hall.

  When she opened the screen door, Burke stood beside the hood of his car, texting. A beautifully cut grey jacket emphasized his broad shoulders. She paused for a moment, sucking in her breath, gathering her equilibrium. He looked like a high-powered businessman, not her sweaty, bare-chested roofer. She much preferred the sweaty roofer.

  He stepped around the car and pulled open the passenger door, then abruptly put away his phone, concerned eyes narrowing on her face. “Is Peanut okay?”

  “He’s in the kennel,” she said quietly, still a little off kilter. “I never let him loose when I’m not home.”

  He nodded but shot her another assessing stare. Then slid behind the wheel, backed out and whipped over the hill in a ricochet of gravel.

  When he pulled into the Center’s parking lot, his attention had returned to the screen of his phone.

  “I’ll see you inside,” he said. “The Ridgemans won’t arrive for their tour for another hour.” He gave a distracted smile before dipping his head back over the phone. “Sorry, but this California company wants to play hardball.”

  And he looked delighted about that. Just another little challenge he’d sort out before lunch. She fingered the handle of the door, fighting her melancholy, thinking of Emily as she studied Burke. He was capable, too capable, and it was incredible he could take care of so many things yet always remain in control. She had trouble with an aging pony and an immature sister.

  “What do you do,” she asked, “if it doesn’t go the way you plan?”

  “Find their weakness,” he said, not looking up from the screen. “Exploit it. If that doesn’t work, we walk away. You always have to be prepared to walk.”

  “Of course.” She sighed and slipped from the car. That kind of policy might work for Burke and company, but it wasn’t going to help with Emily. You can’t walk away from someone you love.

  She jammed her hands in her pockets and trudged up the walkway. Em was always a drama queen. Maybe she just wanted an excuse to come home. Maybe she was temporarily homesick and would feel better next week. God, she prayed Em was joking.

  The construction crew called their usual greetings. Terry rushed out and pushed a wheelbarrow off the sidewalk so she could pass.

  “How’s your hand today, Jenna?” His concerned gaze swept over her gauze wrap and then shot back to Burke’s car.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “That spill was pretty clumsy of me.”

  “No, it was my fault. You said the hotter the better so…well.” He gave a rueful shrug. “The job’s almost finished here. Another week at the most. Can I give you a call sometime?”

  “I’m sorry, but I have a boyfriend.”

  “Figures. But if you just want to get together for lunch or a…tea, that’d be good too.” He glanced past her, yanked his tool belt higher, winked and turned away.

  Burke stalked up the walkway, scowling at Terry’s back. “Was that the idiot with the boiling water? What did he want?”

  “He was just saying how nice it was that you helped with the building,” Jenna said dryly “They’re finishing early because of the six am start.”

  Burke’s lip twitched. “Sorry. I’m out of line. Let’s go inside and you can try our fancy tea maker.” He stood back and opened the door, now marked with a gleaming white ‘Entrance’ sign.

  “Hi, Jenna.” Frances poked her head up from behind the reception desk. “I didn’t know you were coming in today. That bitch Kathryn Winfield is here, telling everyone she’s taking over your job. Thank God it’s not tru
e—” She ducked her head, flushing, as Burke stepped inside and closed the door.

  Jenna’s smile froze on her face. She’d forgotten all about Kathryn, had even hoped Burke might relent and agree he didn’t need a second masseuse. At least not Kathryn, whose lifetime goal had always been to make Jenna’s life miserable.

  Burke apparently was clueless as to Kathryn’s animosity to anyone not of her social ilk. “Where’s Kathryn now?” he asked, pausing to flip through the incoming mail.

  “Checking out the massage room,” Frances squeaked.

  “Tell her to come to my office. And Jenna, please join us. Bring me a coffee when you come.”

  She stared mutely, fighting her ache of betrayal. Maybe they needed another masseuse while she was hurt but once Kathryn had a toehold, she’d never leave. Leo Winfield was too powerful. Even Wally’s good friend had buckled under Leo’s influence.

  And Burke was obsessive about secondary education. He was constantly printing directives about staff qualifications and new requirements. Kathryn would immediately rank above Jenna, in both salary and authority. Work would be intolerable.

  Frances kept her head down, engrossed with the blank page of her appointment book. Burke picked up a couple letters and strode down the hall.

  Frances peered over the counter, waiting until he was out of earshot. “I feel like quitting,” she muttered.

  “Me too,” Jenna said, but of course they couldn’t. Jobs were as scarce as hens’ teeth. Even the influential Leo Winfield’s daughter had been unemployed for two months.

  “I wish Wally was still the manager.” Frances slammed the appointment book shut. “This is what happens when outsiders try to run things. They just don’t understand how things work.”

  Jenna nodded, her throat too thick to speak. She wouldn’t be able to drink a drop of tea, no matter how good it tasted from the pricey new machine. First Emily, now this—on a day that had started out with such promise.

  Frances rose. “Guess I’ll tell Her Highness to go on down to Mr. Burke’s office. And you better hurry and get the man his coffee.”

  Jenna squared her shoulders and detoured to the staff room, making small talk, fielding greetings, but too devastated for more than polite replies. Yes, she was fine. No, she wasn’t fired and yes, she’d be back in a week or two despite what Kathryn had said.

  The new beverage machine was definitely deluxe with an array of choices. Hot chocolate, coffee, tea, cappuccino. Press a button and make a selection. It even had a button for adding lemon, which last week would have left her ecstatic. Now she was filled with despair, her fingers oddly clumsy. It was clear she’d soon become adept with the buttons though, now that she was relegated to coffee girl. Unless she was horrible at getting it right.

  She shoved Burke’s cup under the spout and impulsively added a dash of lemon, then four more generous squirts.

  Sucked in a resolute breath and walked to his office.

  The door was shut and she knocked quietly. Heard his deep ‘come in.’ He always sounded impatient and here she was, a little errand girl reduced to delivering coffee. Kathryn would love it.

  Her longtime nemesis was seated in front of his desk, signing employee forms. Burke leaned against the wall by the conference table. He immediately walked behind the desk and pulled out his chair.

  “Sit here, Jenna.”

  She paused, so surprised coffee sloshed against the rim of the cup. He quickly pried it from her hand as though afraid of another burn. “I was just explaining Kathryn’s duties,” he added.

  Jenna sat, warily eyeing both Kathryn and Burke. It was rather empowering to sit in his massive chair with its buttery leather. Even Wally had never let her sit here. She gave the chair an exploratory twist, surprised at how easily it swiveled.

  Terry and the boys were loading long boxes in a white pickup and if she turned another six inches to the right, she could see the new flowerbeds. A chair like this probably cost more than her fridge but it certainly was comfortable, certainly could swing—she grounded her feet, stopping its motion.

  This was a serious meeting. Kathryn had the education and Leo’s backing. But Jenna had more experience. Maybe Burke would place them on the same level. Please, just don’t make Kathryn my boss.

  Kathryn’s cheeks were oddly flushed and Jenna straightened, trying to portray cool confidence. Her movement triggered something in the chair. It rose six inches. The armrests extended and a lumbar extension soothed her lower spine. She hid the widening of her eyes but definitely was taller. If she looked straight ahead, her gaze was over Kathryn’s head. Wow. She felt tall, important, invincible.

  “Kathryn, if you’re finished with the documents,” Burke said, “you can take them to Frances. She’s your immediate supervisor, then Jenna. We all pitch in around here so just do whatever they tell you. Your job description includes cleaning some stalls,” his face was impassive, “and the staff bathroom.”

  Kathryn’s cheeks flamed a brighter shade of pink. “I have a degree. I don’t clean toilets.”

  Burke scowled and crossed his arms, the material tightening dangerously. “You’ll do whatever they say. Now take those papers to Frances. She’ll let you know what’s on your list for today.”

  Kathryn grabbed the papers, fumbled with an errant sheet and rushed from the office, the click of her heels oddly subdued.

  Jenna stared at the door then closed her mouth and looked at Burke. Couldn’t speak. Could only stare with heartfelt gratitude.

  “I don’t think she’ll stay long,” he said wryly, picking up his cup. “I should have talked to Wally before hiring her. Staff synergy isn’t my strength.”

  “Thank you.” Jenna swallowed twice, wetting her throat. “Kathryn and I have never been friends.”

  “No, and with her family, I’m sure it’s been tough.”

  She nodded, appreciating his brevity yet the empathy in his voice made her heart kick against her ribs.

  “If you’re finished playing in my chair,” he added, “I’m going to sit down, enjoy my coffee and make some calls.”

  She scrambled from the chair, crossed the room and removed the cup from his hand. “Since you’ve so masterfully handled our first staff dissension, I’d like to bring you another cup. A…fresher one.”

  He raised an amused eyebrow. “And perhaps one that’s a little less bitter?”

  “Absolutely,” she said.

  ***

  “Any candidates for a new manager?” Edward asked, from his office in New York. “When are we free of this Wally Turner?”

  “Still trying to force him to quit.” Burke adjusted the phone against his ear. “Can’t prove his theft and politically it wouldn’t be wise to fire him. Stillwater is a tight town.”

  Edward gave an impatient sigh. “Someone must know something. We’re not there to coddle.”

  “I’m working with someone now. She’s starting to trust me, but they’re all inconveniently loyal.”

  “You talk to Theresa yet?”

  “Yes, I did. Not that it’s any of your business.” Burke jotted a reminder on his yellow pad. Theresa hadn’t been happy but he’d send her a necklace, a tastefully expensive one, along with his very best wishes. Women were always soothed if they walked away with a blue Tiffany box. Perhaps he’d order one for Jenna as well. Two necklaces, he scribbled.

  He swiveled his chair, watching Wally through the window. The man grinned and gestured again, pointing out the new flowers and cobblestones to Jenna. Wally always seemed more animated when she was around.

  Interesting.

  “I might have found Wally’s little weakness,” Burke said into the phone.

  “Good. Because the quicker you find a manager,” Edward said, “the quicker you can leave that hick town.”

  “I’m not in that big of a hurry,” Burke said, and cut the connection.

  He turned in his chair, watching as Wally and Jenna re-entered the building. Waited one minute then called Frances. “Please tell
Wally to come see me,” he said. It was always good to send for employees; it made them feel vulnerable, and vulnerable people made mistakes.

  Wally walked in ten minutes later.

  “Good work over the weekend,” Burke said. “The courtyard looks nice. Just in time for our visitors today.”

  Wally looked blank. If Jenna had told him about the Ridgeman visit, he hid it well.

  “Have a seat, Wally.”

  Wally pushed the chair further from the desk and sat.

  “As you know, we’re changing our target market,” Burke said, “and our strategy. Better employees, better horses, higher fees. No more locals dropping by the back door. Some of our employees have been lax about that.”

  Wally held his gaze for a long moment, eyes impassive, but a muscle twitched on the side of the man’s jaw.

  “I’m thinking of Leo Winfield’s girl,” Burke continued, watching Wally’s face. “Thinking of moving her to head masseuse.”

  “Oh, God!” Wally jerked forward, his composure gone. “You can’t do it. A move like that would kill Jenna.”

  Bingo. Burke leaned back in his chair, careful to keep his expression impassive.

  “I mean you can do it, but it wouldn’t be good for employee morale.” Wally’s words came out in a rush. “Kathryn Winfield is jealous of any pretty girl but especially bitter toward Jenna. Carried a grudge since eighth grade when Jenna won the science fair, the 4-H leadership award and was voted May Queen all on the same day. And it’s only worsened with time.”

  “Oh?” Burke raised an eyebrow. “Jenna has a nimble brain and is definitely spunky, but everyone seems to look up to her. She’s very likeable.”

  “You bet. She has a huge heart. But Kathryn won’t accept being second best. And really, who would want Kathryn if they could have Jenna?”

  Burke’s lip twitched. Wally was actually very astute, full of information too, but the man was backing into a yawning crevasse. “So is there a specific problem between the two girls now?” Burke asked as he scrawled a memo on his legal pad.