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Tempting the Negotiator
Tempting the Negotiator
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Tempting the Negotiator

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CHAPTER FIVE

JAKE BARELY SAW SASS the following day. He took the boys to a regional competition, and though he made a rather ungracious offer to include her, she declined, saying she’d rather read the books Rob had lent her. They’d returned home late and saw no sign of her other than the kitchen looking unusually clean and tidy. She must have accepted his invitation to help herself to whatever she fancied. Funny how even when not seeing her, he could somehow sense her presence all around him.

On Monday morning, Jake dropped her off in Whangarimu to do some shopping, while he met Rob and Moana for coffee at a waterfront café. He tried to relax, but when a text message from Sass arrived, his temper, uncertain all morning, ignited.

“Of all the ridiculous—where the hell does she think she is?”

“What’s up?” Rob asked.

“It’s from Miss Pain-in-the. She doesn’t want a lift home, says she’ll find her own way back.” His voice was loaded with sarcasm.

“How?”

“She doesn’t say. She probably thinks she can catch the subway or some daft notion. If she takes a taxi, it’ll cost her a fortune.”

“Text her and find out what she’s planning to do,” Moana suggested.

The answer winged back.

“Oh my God, she’s rented a car! Now I’ll find her in a ditch somewhere after driving on the wrong side of the road. What the hell is she trying to prove?”

Moana shrugged. “I don’t see what the big deal is. She only wants a bit of independence.”

“She’s doing it,” said Jake, “to get at me.”

“Oh, come on. Hiring a car is not a personal insult.” Rob stirred sugar into his coffee. “I don’t see why you’re getting so het up about it.”

“It’s a symbol,” said Jake darkly.

Moana laughed at this, tossing her hair back over her shoulders as she rocked the pram where six-month-old Jacob lay sleeping. “Of what? I don’t get what’s going on between you two. I thought the paintball was supposed to improve international relations, but you were both even frostier on the way home than on the way out. What’s Sass done to rile you so much?”

Rob cocked an eyebrow. “Anything happen at paint-ball that we should know about?”

Jake forced a short laugh. “C’mon, you were there. Where was the opportunity for anything?”

Rob’s eyes narrowed. “Is that an evasion?”

He was rescued from interrogation by Jacob, who woke at that moment with a yell. Jake never lied to Rob, but somehow he couldn’t begin to say what had happened out there. He’d lost his mind temporarily—it was the only explanation. As for the American, he must surely have imagined that momentary, unbridled passion. It couldn’t really be lurking under her impenetrable calm. Jake wasn’t used to being given the brush-off, and he was most certainly not used to caring on the rare occasion he was. Furthermore, he was used to sleeping soundly every night, so his resentment had been compounded when, at three in the morning, he’d found himself awake, libido in knots, wondering what the hell he was trying to prove with this stupid celibacy kick, anyway.

Sass, of course, had been as cool and as annoyingly imperturbable as ever during the drive into town earlier. She’d said she wanted to look around, and Jake had been glad to drop her off and leave her to her own devices for a few hours. The fact that the whole of Whangarimu shopping center could be done in under an hour had given him a small flash of malicious satisfaction. He’d thought once she discovered how hicksville they really were, she’d be ready to catch the next flight out. Instead, it seemed she was already finding her feet, taking control.

With Jacob still screaming, Rob and Moana said hasty farewells and, freed from the necessity of picking Sass up, Jake decided to drop into the local polytechnic. He survived financially by taking a series of temporary jobs such as farm work and teaching the conservation course part-time. This last job was proving more challenging than he’d thought. Who’d have ever guessed teachers put so much time and thought into their classes? Still, he loved the subject and his students, but the copious paperwork that went with the territory proved to be his bête noire. He was struggling with mounds of neglected filing when Colin popped his head around the door of Jake’s tiny office.

“Ah, there you are. Heard rustlings and thought it might be rats. Then I heard the swearing.”

Jake looked up at his colleague from the pile he’d just knocked off the desk. “Can’t believe how much junk accumulates in such a short time. Good thing I’m only part-time. If I were full-time, I’d be buried alive under avalanches of this crap.”

Colin stepped over another teetering pile and perched on a chair after removing yet more papers. His habitual good humor was intact. But beneath his thinning, sandy hair, his pale blue eyes were considerably sharper than his mild manner suggested. “Systems, that’s what you need.”

Jake grimaced. “Yeah, I know. I just seem biologically programmed to be incapable of following any.”

Colin looked from Jake’s biceps to his own thin, freckled arms. “I haven’t heard your female students complain about your biological programming.”

“It doesn’t impress management, however.”

Colin shook his head. “That’s not what I’ve heard. Numbers enrolling in conservation have rocketed—and not just girls. Rumor has it you’ve turned down offers for a full-time contract twice. Why’s that? I thought you were skint.”

Jake laughed as he leaned back and swung on his computer chair. “Yeah, well, it’s true I could do with the money but—” he hesitated “—full-time is a real commitment.”

Colin surveyed him. “More fun to be had on the surfing circuit?”

“Nah, I’ve been there, done that. Teaching is fun and I really enjoy it. It’s just—”Again Jake broke off, not sure himself what his objections were. “It just seems so final.” He knew that sounded lame, the minute the words were out. He wasn’t surprised when Colin shook his head.

“Listen to you. You sound like a kid of eighteen instead of a man in his thirties. It’s got to happen sooner or later. You can’t float on the surface of life forever. You need to put down some roots, mate.”

Jake pulled a face. “Think I’ve been on the road too many years to settle down now.”

“No desire for a wife and a home one day?” Colin eyed him curiously.

“Yeah, I’d like them someday—just not now.”

“Spoken like a true commitment-phobe.”

“Commitment-phobe?” Jake feigned outrage. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m up to my bloody neck in commitments at the present.”

Colin scratched his chin, a gesture he did when pondering an interesting phenomenon in the science lab. “Hmm, but they’re all short-term, aren’t they. The boys are only with you until the championships, the book has its deadline and as for the resort, well, that’s going to be settled sooner or later. Then what? Will you stay on and see how things go for the tern?”

His tone was dispassionate; he was simply analyzing the situation from an objective point of view. But it left Jake feeling disconcerted, even a little defensive.

“I haven’t planned that far ahead,” he said with a shrug.

Colin leaned back and folded his arms. “You know what your problem is?”

“No, and I don’t want to hear it from you, either.”

His colleague smiled but continued, unperturbed. “You’re still searching for the next best thing—the perfect wave. But a surfer like you should know there’s no such thing. You’ve got to take what’s in front of you.”

“What’s in front of me,” said Jake, making a sweeping gesture, “is this bloody nightmare, and the next best thing I need is a shredder. Is there one I can use?”

Colin laughed as he got to his feet. “Yeah, there’s one in the admin block. Okay, champ, have it your way. See you in a couple of weeks.”

THE OLDER MAN’S WORDS stayed with Jake, however, and as he drove home, his thoughts were bleak. It wasn’t only his desk that was a mess, his whole life needed systems. He was already past one deadline for the book he was writing on the fairy tern. How could he tell the publishers he’d stalled with it? All his energies, he told himself, were being used up in the battle to keep the invading Americans at bay. How could a man work when his home was threatened?

Damn Rob for saddling him with the woman. It just added to Jake’s responsibilities, this need to make her fall in love with Aroha Bay. If she had eyes in her head, she’d see for herself what a travesty a holiday resort would be in such a place. The last thing in the world he needed right now was to play host to some insufferable hotshot.

As for the boys…he’d bitten off more than he could chew there. It had been a great idea at the time—just like the book had been—but the reality was considerably more difficult than he’d expected. He’d had some cool idea that it would be like a surf camp and that as long as they were focused on surfing, the rest of their lives would sort out. Instead, the house was constantly a wreck and the boys seemed to need feeding every minute of the day.

What’s more, he had a feeling that even though it was still early in the school year, they were probably not doing as well as they should. The boys never seemed to do any homework, but Jake didn’t want to harp on about assignments and tests. God, he’d sound like his old man, and Brad was always squaring up against him as it was. What was up with the kid? He pretended it was all a joke, but he never missed an opportunity to make a dig at Jake, to defy his authority.

Jake still believed that Aroha Bay was what the boys needed, but Janet, their social worker, seemed unconvinced a single male was the best guardian for them. She’d been clearly unimpressed by the state of the house the last visit, and had said she’d drop by again soon. Despite her smile, it had sounded like a threat, and he knew she’d be along any day now. He really needed to clean ASAP, stock the fridge with fresh salad, that sort of thing. That’s what she’d be looking for. He could lose the boys otherwise. As he could lose the battle for Aroha Bay and the fairy tern.

Jake hated the mere thought of losing.

As he swung down the driveway to the house, his stress levels mounted. What he really craved was a surf but instead he’d have to cook dinner and sort through some of the bills that were cluttering the table. He probably also ought to entertain the American, though how, he couldn’t imagine. Well, he could. But that image was sharply repressed.

The first thing he saw, sitting jauntily next to the sleep-out, was the car. A red convertible. Bloody typical! He might have guessed she’d get something like that. He was amazed the boys weren’t all standing around it, tongues hanging out and begging for rides. Brad would be itching to drive. Oh, man, yet another battle Jake simply didn’t need. He pulled up next to the convertible and jumped out, slamming his door. There was no sign of Sass, but music was pounding out of the house. No guesses where the boys were, then. Delicious smells wafted across the grass. Cooking? No one in the house cooked. Jake bounded up the deck steps, then stopped short in the doorway. For a second he thought he must have the wrong house. The wrong boys.

“Hi, Jake,” Paul said with one of his shy, sidelong looks that substituted as a smile. He was polishing the glass of the bay window.

“Did you bring a game home?” Mike asked. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, putting all the loose DVDs and Xbox games into the right cases and stacking them.

“We were hoping you might pick up that new racing one,” Mark added from his perch on top of the sofa, where he was cleaning the cobwebs from the corners.

“Oh, you’re home,” Brad said as he passed through the lounge, lugging a vacuum cleaner. “Did you see the car? Isn’t she a little beauty?”

“What the hell is going on?” Jake roared.

The boys all paused.

“We’re cleaning,” said Brad in a “well, duh” tone. “But you guys don’t clean. You are the worst pigs I’ve ever met. If I tell you to put something away, you act like I’m the most unreasonable brute in the world.”

Brad grinned. “Ah, but that’s because you’re a crap cook.”

Jake shot him a look.

“Sass said she’d make Mexican if we cleaned the house. It’s got to be spotless. She’s an amazing cook,” one of the twins elaborated.

“How do you know?”

“She made us Texan burgers when we came back from school this afternoon. Said her brothers were always starving when they were our age. You’ve never tasted anything like these burgers. Then she offered us a deal. She’ll cook while she stays here so long as we keep the place clean.”

Jake couldn’t begin to untangle his thoughts and feelings on hearing that. Of all the managing, bossy, conniving… As for the boys, what a bunch of mercenary turncoats. At the same time, something did smell fantastic.

“Where is she?”

“In the kitchen.”

Jake went through and there, sure enough, was Sass stirring a pot. She was humming, her back to him, and looking like every man’s fantasy in a short denim skirt and a clinging white tee. Her blond hair was pulled up in a ponytail and a big Texan belt was slung around her slender hips. She didn’t hear him come in and he took a minute to look around the kitchen. Everything had been scrubbed, polished and put away. Every surface gleamed. He didn’t know that things on the stove could smell so good, either. He was not, however, so easily bought as the boys.

“What the hell is that?”

Sass turned. “Oh, you’re back.” It was a statement of fact, not a welcome. “That’s an espresso machine.”

“I can see that. Where did it come from?”

“A shop called Brisket or something like that.”

“Briscoes. What’s it doing here? I don’t drink coffee.”

“But I do.”

“You’re only here for a week.”

She leaned against the counter and folded her arms across her chest, as calm and cool as ever, despite the heat of the kitchen.

“Trust me, you don’t want to be around if I don’t get my daily caffeine fix. I’ll leave it for your next guests. How’re the boys doing? Dinner’s nearly ready.”

“I guess I should thank you.” He didn’t feel in the slightest bit grateful.

“No need, I didn’t do it to please you. Would you like to go and wash up? I’m serving in ten.”

INSTEAD OF EATING with plates on their laps, as was their custom, they sat at the cleared, cleaned table. When Jake came through, the boys were already there, looking surprisingly civilized and decidedly hungry.

“Flowers?” he said, with a nod to the vase of yellow roses. “A bit of a waste on five blokes, isn’t it?”

Sass blushed, but before she could reply Paul said softly, “My mum used to put flowers on the table.”

Jake and the other boys stared at him. He never spoke about his mother. She’d died eighteen months earlier.

“Did she?” The annoyance on Sass’s face disappeared and she smiled at Paul. She began handing out plates for the boys to help themselves. Jake saw from her eyes that she’d registered Paul’s use of the past tense, but her voice was light when she asked, “Did she enjoy gardening?”

Paul gave her a hesitant smile. “Couldn’t get her out of it—especially in summer.”

“I bet. A garden’s the one thing I’d really like in New York.”

Jake was impressed, despite himself. Paul wasn’t one to volunteer information, and he almost never smiled. There was something in Sass’s manner that the boys were instinctively turning to. It wasn’t that she was motherly—more like a big sister. She must have been great with her own brothers.

“It looks good,” he said, prepared to have a truce with a person who could tame this brood.

Brad grinned. “It tastes even better. Oh, and you owe Sass three hundred and forty-eight bucks.”

“What?”

Sass threw Brad a reproving look. “I told you not to mention it. It’s not a big deal.”

“What three hundred dollars?” Jake demanded.

“For the electricity,” Brad continued, ignoring Sass. “They cut the power off this morning.”

“Bastards!” Jake was mortified that Sass should see he wasn’t coping.

“We found the bills in the pile of shit over there—” Brad waved toward the overflowing in-tray on top of the piano “—and Sass rang and paid over the phone with her credit card. Man,” he continued admiringly, “you should have heard the way she sweet-talked the guy into reconnecting us immediately. Tell you what, you’re going to have a fight on your hands if Sass decides against you guys.”

“Can it, motormouth.” Sass glared at him, then looked at Jake. “It’s not an issue. I’d have been paying to stay in a hotel. Consider this my contribution to staying here, instead.”

“Thank you,” said Jake stiffly, “but I won’t hear of you paying my bills.”

They locked eyes. Sass’s head tilted before she shrugged and smiled. That polite smile of hers, not the real one she kept for the boys, for Rob and Moana—for everyone except him. “Sure, pay me back whenever.”