Worth the Risk Page 11

  “Rumor has it she isn’t getting her car back.”

  “Let the Malloy games begin,” Dean said, a smile spreading across his face.

  He sort of wished he’d be around to witness it. The way his mom wrapped his dad around her finger was worth an expensive admission ticket. The first time she’d told his dad she wanted to bungee jump had elicited a reaction that bordered on—

  “You going to answer that?”

  McCall’s question broke into Dean’s thoughts. He hadn’t heard the phone ring. Actually, he had, but he’d thought it was his head pounding. He glanced down and noticed the green light indicating the call came from the reception desk, so he pushed the speaker button.

  “Hey, Gloria. What’s up?”

  “Is McCall with you?”

  “I’m here, Gloria,” McCall answered.

  “I wanted to let you know Miss Bennett has arrived. Mr. Malloy just phoned and he’s five minutes away.”

  “Thanks, Gloria,” McCall said. “I’ll come up and get her.”

  Dean ended the connection and got to his feet. “I’ll go,” he said.

  “Sit your ass down, Dean. You don’t work here anymore, remember?” McCall rose. “We’ll meet you in your dad’s office.”

  Unwelcome tension thrummed through Dean. He ran a hand through his hair. “Fine.”

  He followed McCall into the hallway and made a left. His head throbbed with each step, so he took a detour to the small kitchen and grabbed some aspirin. A minute later the feminine voice wafting to his ears as he crossed the threshold into his dad’s office seeped into his pores and eased the alcoholic remains from last night.

  Sam sat next to McCall at the conference table and didn’t pay Dean any attention. When McCall leaned closer to her and whispered something, she giggled.

  Every muscle in Dean’s body went rigid. “Good morning,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Morning,” she said, looking up at him.

  Her hair was pulled back to reveal radiant eyes that robbed him of the indifference he’d tried all morning to talk himself into. Her heart-shaped lips reminded him of every wicked thing she’d done with that mouth. He couldn’t look away from her. She looked away from him.

  “I was just telling Sam about fishing this weekend,” McCall said as Dean took the seat next to Samantha. “The trout were practically jumping into the boat.”

  A slight tilt to Samantha’s head was alluring enough to make breathing difficult for Dean. “I’ve never really been fishing,” she said in that soft voice of hers. The same one she’d used to render him spellbound on Friday morning.

  McCall looked more than interested. “I’d love to bring you sometime.”

  “I just might take you up on that.”

  Dean wanted to take McCall and leave him dogpaddling in the middle of a mile-wide river. Instead, he fisted his hands underneath the table. The childish jealousy coursing through his blood had to stop. Immediately. Sam hadn’t brought any personal feelings with her this morning, so he’d play right along.

  We fished off the bank of Emerald Lake in Banff.

  When McCall’s phone rang, drawing his attention away from Sam, Dean gave silent thanks. He couldn’t think of one goddamn interesting thing to add to the conversation.

  McCall pulled the phone from his pocket. “Excuse me. I need to take this.”

  He and Samantha watched McCall leave. They both squirmed. The office door clicked shut, and they were alone.

  The next several seconds ticked by in agonizing silence. She kept her gaze forward, studying the photographs on the far wall. Dean took in her stiff posture, her clasped hands, her business attire. Seconds felt like hours. Finally she turned her head.

  “How’s your mom this morning?”

  “She’s…she’s good.” All of a sudden Dean wanted to take back everything he’d said to her last night in the hospital.

  “I’m glad.”

  “If she has her way, she’ll be home today.”

  “My mom was in the hospital a few years ago. Her appendix burst. I remember they wanted to keep her for a couple extra days, but she insisted on going home. She said the best way to heal was in her own bed surrounded by the things she loved. It was one of the few times I remember my dad taking off work. To be with her.”

  Dean stared at Sam, not sure what to make of her friendly but casual disposition. Was this the moment he forgot about the past and moved forward? If he didn’t let go, all those moments with Samantha would bog him down for the rest of his life. They’d bog her down, too. He could see it in her eyes no matter how hard she tried to disguise it.

  “We’re both adults, Dean. This doesn’t have to be awkward,” she said, breaking his train of thought.

  “Awkward isn’t the word I’d use.”

  “I’m sure our paths will cross again given our professions, so I think we should agree to be friends. I’ve no regrets. But I don’t plan on looking back anymore.”

  His body burned with an ache he’d never felt before. Conflicting emotions—relief, refusal, fear, love—boomeranged around his insides. He thought he’d be satisfied after a weekend with Samantha, but the opposite was true. For the first time in his life, he hungered for more.

  Dean had always gotten what he wanted. Had earned what he wanted. But that wasn’t the case this time. He wished there were another way. Wished this beautiful, funny, generous woman sitting beside him hadn’t become a priority he didn’t know how to deal with.

  “I’ve no regrets either.”

  The small smile that spread across her lips didn’t calm the fervor inside him. It started a riot. Especially when he noticed, for a split second, her mask slipped.

  He was about to do battle with her, make declarations, when his father walked through the door.

  …

  Samantha turned her attention to William Malloy, relieved to have the company. She’d thought she could handle seeing Dean, had rehearsed over and over again the words she would say to him, but the force of will it took to come off unfeeling had almost caused her to crumble.

  Sleep had completely eluded her last night. Tears on her pillow hadn’t wiped away Dean’s lingering scent, and more than anything she’d wished he was with her. She also wished she’d told him about the phone call the moment it happened. Then taken a chance and declared her feelings for him right then and there. Fear had held her back.

  “Good morning,” she said, pushing aside the flash of affection she saw in Dean’s eyes. Her lie had hurt him, but the words he’d spoken to her last night had stung right back. His ludicrous accusations had diminished their relationship to nothing but a passing fancy, and Samantha hated him for that.

  “Morning,” Bill said. “Sorry I’m late.” He put down a stack of papers on his desk and then stepped to the chair at the head of the conference table.

  Sam watched his every move. Every nuance. She had to focus on something besides the showered scent of Dean, the tired look on his face that hinted he hadn’t slept much either, the way her nerves were about to fracture into a thousand pieces. She was a fool to think she’d lost Dean. She’d never had him. But the Route 66 contract was supposed to be a done deal. She’d poured everything into it these past few months and had been ready to accept a partnership over the telephone. Then something had changed. Dean.

  “You get any sleep last night?” Dean asked his father, the concern in his voice chipping away at her manufactured coolness.

  “Not much. It’s damn uncomfortable sleeping in a hospital.”

  “I’m sure your company meant a world of difference to your wife,” Sam said, her heart rate picking up.

  Bill looked at her with emotion that far outweighed any her own father ever spared her. “Thank you. I hope it did.” He exhaled and then split his attention between her and Dean. “Thank you both for coming in this morning. I appreciate the hard work you put into your presentations for the Route 66 project. They were well written and persuasive, and the decision on which
company to partner with has not been easy.”

  Samantha nervously ground her teeth together. She put a hand on her knee to stop her leg from shaking.

  “Sam, the enthusiasm you have for this job is contagious. You’ve far exceeded my expectations in regards to assessing a monument’s integrity and significance. The desire for Global Site to reestablish Route 66 as a cultural legacy that can be sustained for generations is indicative of your company’s long-term preservation successes.”

  “Thank you.” God, Samantha hoped he couldn’t see how hard her heart was beating.

  “I’ve long agreed with the ideals and work strategies of Global Site. Hell, we’ve borrowed heritage approaches and procedures from each other for years. It makes sense to partner with a company I not only hold in high esteem, but one that also shares my thought processes.”

  Samantha took a shallow breath. “I couldn’t agree more, Bill. We’re dedicated to adapting and replicating methods from both companies to guarantee Route 66 prospers far beyond our days in the field.”

  He nodded and relaxed into his chair, seeming to gather his thoughts before continuing. Sam stayed glued to his body language. Tried to decide if his words meant she had the deal. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, but it sounded like an offer was about to be made.

  “But,” he said, squashing Samantha’s confidence, “Dean, you’ve created a rare partnership opportunity by proposing conservation solutions that will propel us into new hands-on techniques and philosophies bolstered by partnerships with individuals and groups eager to go beyond today’s methods.”

  For the first time in the last couple of minutes, Samantha felt Dean stir. She’d been ultra aware of his stillness and now cast him a sideways glance.

  “I’m eager to change things, yes,” Dean said. “With new and improved technologies spilling into environmentalism and a new generation of artisans and preservation specialists enthusiastic about sites all over the world, it’s time to work out of the box.

  “However, change doesn’t have to happen today. Global Site is extremely effective and far better known than my company. The global recognition of a partnership between you two would skyrocket advocacy efforts. And from what I know of Samantha, she’d be an amazing asset to any field operation.”

  Chills raced up Samantha’s arms. She slowly turned her head and took in the man who’d just sung her praises, but at the same time made quite a convincing case for himself. His diplomacy ripped at her heart. She’d never have acted the same way. As a silent pause filled the room, she looked down, and that’s when pain flooded through her.

  “Nicely said.” Bill’s voice had her quickly gathering her wits and looking back up. The admiration on his face as he regarded Dean stole any remaining hope she had. I’ve lost.

  “This is a small field we work in,” Dean added. “And the more we have one another’s backs regardless of who works on what project, the more the field of heritage protection will prosper.”

  No one had ever had Samantha’s back. No one but Dean.

  Bill turned his attention to her. “Sam, I’ve no doubt your contributions to Global Site will better the company’s already formidable reputation, and that they’ll continue to remain a leader in cultural heritage preservation around the world. But the ideas that Dean and his company have set forth are what World Heritage needs to better position ourselves for a future that will only present greater challenges.”

  Samantha nodded.

  “I’m sorry we’ll have to wait for something else to partner on. Please give my sincere thanks to Global for taking the time and consideration to explore working with us.”

  “Thank you, Bill. I will.” She rose and extended her arm. Bill stood and took her hand in both of his.

  Dean got to his feet as well, and Samantha shook his hand. “Congratulations, Dean. Best of luck with this project and all your others.”

  “Thanks. Good luck to you, too.” He looked ready to say something more, and he didn’t release his grip right away. A hundred crazy thoughts raced through her head.

  If she didn’t turn and leave in the next second, though, she’d hyperventilate. She pulled her hand back, gave both men a tight-lipped smile, and walked as fast as she could out of the office.

  As she made her way to the elevator, she fought the disorientation threatening to trip her. Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, she wished more than anything she could snap her fingers and be back home.

  She wanted Dean to come after her. She wanted him to tell her he loved her and that they should keep seeing each other. When the elevator doors opened, she was thankful the space was empty. She turned to press the down button and slowly watched the empty lobby of World Heritage Fund disappear from view.

  Chapter 12

  Samantha marched into her father’s office intent on telling him exactly where he stood in her life. She would no longer let his words hurt her. Her life was none of his business, and his manipulations and narrowed views ceased to hold any power over her.

  He’d seemed so sure she would fail when she left his company that she’d allowed herself to believe it a possibility. But after three months with Global Site and her weekend with Dean, she’d let those doubts go. Her father might measure success in billable hours, but she measured it by doing what she loved. Dean had trusted she would leave her mark on the world of heritage conservation, and she would.

  Her father looked up from his desk with a mixture of relief and smugness on his aging face. “Samantha.”

  “Dad.”

  “You got my e-mail?” His pompous tone of voice was a direct hit to her heart, but her walls were strong enough now to deflect any discomfort.

  Samantha stood at the edge of his desk and looked down at him. “It’s the only reason I’m here.”

  As apologies went, her father’s impersonal message was abysmal, but she knew it was all she’d get.

  “Have a seat.”

  “I can’t. There’s a cab waiting for me downstairs.”

  For probably the first time in her life, she watched her dad’s eyes widen in surprise. He thought she was here to accept his job offer. She wasn’t.

  “I’m not coming back, Dad. Not today. Not tomorrow. I came here to tell you in person that it doesn’t matter what you think of my chosen career path. I’m going to live my life the way I want, and if you want any part of that life, then you have to let me go without reprimand or criticism.”

  There. She’d said it. She’d only practiced in front of the mirror for half an hour this morning.

  “Your mother and sister—”

  “May have misled you a little. But that’s only because they were cautiously optimistic you’d come to some conclusions on your own after they told you how much I love heritage protection. That it’s where I want to belong.”

  Not a hint of emotion showed on her father’s face at her declaration, so Samantha had no idea what he was thinking. For a few very long seconds they stared at each other. Then she turned and strode out of his office. He didn’t say a thing to stop her.

  And that was the best gift he could have given her.

  She reached the first floor of her father’s office building a few minutes behind schedule. Pushing open the lobby doors, she hurried to the waiting cab without consideration to where she stepped. Her three-inch heel lodged itself into a division in the concrete.

  “Crap!” She avoided a face plant by falling into the arms of the yellow checker driver, but her ankle twisted and the heel of her shoe snapped.

  The cabbie righted her and then stepped on his cigarette. She felt discomfort in her ankle, but the embarrassment at her clumsiness and now-mismatched shoe height was worse. So much for knock-off shoes. With no time to spare, she limped into the cab.

  Once settled into the vinyl of the backseat, she redirected her anger over her heel to Dean. Everything was his fault nowadays.

  Four weeks had passed since their good-bye. And for four weeks she’d tried with
little success to hate him. So she blamed him instead: for forgetting to pay her cable bill, for her broken fingernail, for the milk spilling, for misplacing her keys. Blame eventually led to hate, didn’t it?

  “I can break the heel on your other shoe if you’d like,” the cab driver said over his shoulder. “That way you’ll at least be even.”

  She laughed, appreciating the cabbie’s sense of humor and kindness. “That would be great. I’d hate for my first impression with a new company to include a fashion disaster.”

  New company.

  Goose bumps popped up on her arms just thinking about it. Global Site hadn’t extended her a full-time position or kept her on a freelance basis in the end. The dismissal had stung, but one call to a headhunter and she had a phone interview the next day with a heritage protection company just outside of San Francisco.

  Several conversations and one video-conference later, they’d made her an offer. Today’s trip was a quick in-person meet and greet before she signed her contract.

  Sam let out a deep, contented sigh.

  She’d jumped at the chance to leave Chicago and start a new job somewhere fresh. Despite their upsetting farewell, Dean had taught her the importance of sticking to her heart’s desire.

  Dean.

  His image appeared everywhere. Behind her eyelids, in the puddles after a rain, in the corner of her eye when she tried to focus on reading the newspaper. She couldn’t escape him. Would never be free of him. Would never forget him.

  Samantha looked out the cab window and saw the airport in the distance. The Monday morning traffic had been light, and in a few minutes she’d climb aboard the private plane the company had sent for her.

  Butterflies filled her stomach. She knew this job would take her to a place where her contributions reached into her professional and personal life and gave her the satisfaction and pride she craved.