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Matthias’s lips thinned at that. “Yeah, she’s a piece of work, all right,” he muttered.
She smiled sweetly. “And now I’m working for someone else.”
Matthias opened his mouth to respond, but this time was prevented by the arrival of their server, who placed tall sweaty glasses of mineral water in front of Kendall and Stephen. Then the waiter looked at Matthias and asked, “Will you be joining this party?”
Even Matthias, Kendall thought, wouldn’t be crass enough to crash her meeting with Stephen. And he didn’t. Instead, he told their server that no, he was on his own and didn’t want to interrupt anyone’s dinner, so would just take a seat at a table by himself. Then, even though there were at least a dozen empty tables in the restaurant, he pulled out a chair from the table immediately beside Kendall’s and Stephen’s, and seated himself without a care.
Unbelievable, Kendall thought. Evidently, Matthias was that crass, after all. If not in blatantly joining them, then certainly in doing his best to destroy any chance the two of them might have for speaking freely about her new obligations as vice president. There was no way Stephen would discuss the policies of his company in the presence of one of his competitors, even superficially. He confirmed that by shrugging philosophically when Kendall looked at him—not that she needed any confirmation.
So instead of talking about her new job over the course of dinner, Kendall and Stephen instead discussed superficialities like the weather, books, current events and a favorite TV show they had in common…with Matthias throwing in his own commentaries here and there, completely uninvited.
It was going to be a long orientation.
Four
The temp Matthias ordered from a Tahoe City agency—once he found the phone book after thirty minutes of looking for it—arrived promptly at eight o’clock the morning after his arrival. Unfortunately, he’d done something wrong when he tried to set his alarm clock the night before—no, the alarm clock was defective, that was the problem—because it was the ringing of the front doorbell that alerted him to the arrival of his early-morning appointment. Not Kendall, who would have normally alerted Matthias to that. Kendall, too, would have been infinitely less intrusive about her reminder than the doorbell was.
Damn, he thought as he looked groggily at the clock and realized it had stopped working completely. He lifted his watch from the nightstand and grimaced when he saw the time. He never slept this late. And he’d never been unprepared for an appointment. Shoving off the covers, he jackknifed into a sitting position and scrubbed both hands briskly over his face to rouse himself. He grabbed a plain white T-shirt from the bag he hadn’t even begun to unpack, shook it out quickly and thrust it over his head as he descended the stairs. And he thought dryly how lucky he was that it matched his sweatpants so well, otherwise he might have to be embarrassed about his attire. It was only as he was reaching for the doorknob that he realized he’d forgotten to put on shoes, so would be greeting his temporary employee barefoot. Somehow, though, he couldn’t quite rouse the wherewithal to care.
The young man on the other side of the door looked surprised by Matthias’s sudden appearance—and, doubtless, by his slovenly appearance—but quickly schooled his features into indifference. He obviously hadn’t overslept, because he was well-groomed and dressed impeccably in a pale gray suit and white dress shirt, his necktie the only spot of color on his person—if you could consider pale yellow a color. He was young, early twenties at most, his blond hair cut short, his gray eyes nearly the same color as his suit. He looked to Matthias like something from a middle school poster advertising Junior Achievement.
“Mr. Barton?” he said.
Matthias ran a quick hand through his dark hair to tame it as best he could. “Yeah, that’s me,” he replied. Quickly, he amended, “I mean, yes. I’m Matthias Barton.”
“William Denton,” he said, extending his hand. “From DayTimers. I’m your new temp.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Matthias said, holding up a hand. “I haven’t hired you yet.”
This was clearly news to young William. “But they said you need an assistant for the month you’ll be spending here in Hunter’s Landing,” he said.
“I do need an assistant for the month,” Matthias told him. “But I’m not going to take any Tom, Dick or William they send my way. I need to make sure you have all the qualifications I need for an assistant.”
Young William smiled confidently. “No worries there, Mr. Barton. Temping is just my summer job. I earned my BS from the Haas School of Business at UC Berkeley in May, and I’ll be returning in the fall to start work on my MBA. I’m more than qualified to take on this position.”
Matthias’s back went up at the kid’s presumption. “Are you?” he asked coolly.
William Denton’s confidence seemed to waver a bit. Nevertheless, he replied, “Yes. I am.” As an afterthought, he added, “Sir.”
Matthias nodded, settling his hands on his hips in challenge. They’d just see about that. Without even inviting William Denton into the lodge, he barked, “What are the major managerial and organizational challenges posed by electronic commerce?”
William Denton blinked as if a too-bright flash had gone off right in front of his eyes. “I…what?”
Matthias shook his head, sighed with much gusto, and asked, “All right, if that one’s too tough, then how about this. True or false. In the simple Ricardian model, trade between similar economies is unlikely to generate large gains from that trade.”
William Denton’s lips parted in response to that one, but no words emerged to answer the question. Until, finally, he said, “I…what?”
Man, Matthias thought, this guy was never going to amount to anything if he couldn’t answer the most obvious question in the world. “All right, here’s an easy one,” he said. “Multiple choice. The current ratio and quick ratio are the best indicators of a company’s what? A. liquidity, B. efficiency, C. profitability or D. growth rate.”
William Denton’s mouth began to work over that one—kind of—but his brain didn’t seem to be cooperating.
Matthias shook his head in disappointment. “I’m sorry, Mr. Denton, but I just don’t think you have what it takes to—”
“Wait!” he interrupted. “I know the answer to that one!”
“Unfortunately, your time is up,” Matthias told him. “Tell DayTimers I’ll be in touch.”
And with that, he pushed the front door closed and turned away. From the other side, William Denton called out, “A! It’s A! Liquidity! Right? Am I right?”
He was right, Matthias thought. But it was too little, too late. The person he hired as his assistant was going to have to be a quick thinker and unafraid to speak up, in addition to being knowledgeable and savvy. Like Kendall. William Denton just didn’t have what it took to fill her shoes.
Oh, well. Another candidate lacking even the most rudimentary business skills. Another interview shot to hell. Matthias would just have to look for someone else.
Padding barefoot to the kitchen, he absently pushed the button on the coffeemaker, then went to retrieve the phone book from the same cabinet where he had discovered it the day before. Bypassing DayTimers this time—since, if William Denton was the best they could do, they were obviously a fly-by-night operation—he selected the next agency on the list. After arranging for a prospective temp to come to the lodge later in the day, Matthias turned to pour himself a cup of coffee—
Only to discover that the carafe on the hot pad was empty. In fact, the hot pad wasn’t even hot. He was sure he’d filled the machine with both water and coffee the night before, but lifted the top, anyway, to make sure. Yep. Coffee on one side. Water on the other. Just like the directions said. He checked to make sure the machine was plugged in. Yep. It was. He made sure the cord was attached to the coffeemaker, as well, ensured that the light switch on the wall nearest the appliance was switched to the on position, in case that was necessary, inspected everything he could possibly inspect to see what the problem was. To no avail. He pushed the on button again. Nothing.
Dammit.
Matthias wasn’t one of those pathetic caffeine addicts who couldn’t function without their crack-of-dawn coffee and suffered ugly mood swings when denied. No way. But, like any civilized human being, he liked to enjoy a cup or two in the morning, maybe three if he had time, possibly four or five, if he had a meeting or something, and, okay maybe another jolt or two or three in the afternoon when he needed it. He didn’t have to have coffee. He just wanted it. A lot.
He stared at the coffeemaker intently, drumming his fingers irregularly on the countertop, willing the machine to work. With great deliberation, he pushed the on button again. Nada.
Damn. His gaze lit then on a short stack of papers he’d placed on the countertop the night before. It was the last assignment Kendall had completed before she’d tendered her resignation, a contract she’d typed up for an agreement between Barton Limited and a new consulting firm with whom he’d be doing limited business for the rest of the year. He smiled, and reached for the phone again, punching in a number he knew by heart.
“Kendall,” he said when she answered her cell phone. “It’s…” He started to say “Mr. Barton,” but halted. “Matthias,” he identified himself instead. “There’s a problem with the Donovan contract you typed up before you left. Can you spare a couple of hours this morning to go over it?” He listened to her objection, then said, “I realize that. But this is a problem you’re responsible for, one you need to rectify. And it’s urgent. When can you be here?” He grinned at her reply. “Good. I promise not to keep you any longer than I absolutely have to. And, Kendall,” he added before she had a chance to hang up, “I saw a coffee shop in town. Would you mind swinging by it on your way?”
Kendall stewed as she waited for Matthias to answer the doorbell she’d just rung, and switched the enormous cardboard cup of coffee from one hand to the other as it began to burn her fingers. It had been awkward, to say the least, explaining to Stephen DeGallo on her first official day of training why she needed to take part of the morning off. And although he hadn’t exactly been happy about the request, he’d told her to go ahead, that they could meet again after lunch.
Lunch, she thought now, that she should have been having with her new boss, not the one she’d left behind.
As if conjured by the thought, Matthias opened the door, smiling with what looked like profound relief when he saw her. She softened some at his expression, flattered that, in spite of everything, he still seemed to need her. It was always a nice feeling to have.
Then he reached for the massive cup of coffee in her hand, popped off the top and lifted it toward his face, inhaling deeply to enjoy a long, leisurely sniff. Carefully, he lifted it to his mouth and sipped, closing his eyes as he savored it. Then he opened them again, stared down into the dark brew and said, “Oh, God, that’s better.”
That was when Kendall realized it was the coffee for which he was grateful, not her. And she wondered again why she’d bothered.
Because she was conscientious about her work, she told herself. It had nothing to do with Matthias needing her. If there truly was a problem with the Donovan contract that was her fault, then it was, as he’d said, up to her to rectify it. Although she couldn’t imagine what she’d done wrong. She’d triple-and quadruple-checked the document before she’d given it to Matthias to look at. And why was he just now looking at it, anyway? she wondered. It was supposed to have gone back to Elliot Donovan two weeks ago.
And what was up with his appearance? she wondered further. Okay, she knew he was on vacation, but she’d never seen him looking like this. Here it was, almost ten o’clock in the morning, and he looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed. His black sweatpants were rumpled from sleep, as was the white V-neck T-shirt stretched taut enough across his chest that she could see the dark hair beneath—besides what was visible around the neckline. A day’s growth of beard shadowed his face, his dark hair was shaggy and uncombed and his brown eyes were hooded and soft. He looked…
Well, actually, Kendall thought as a coil of something warm and electric unwound in her belly, he looked kind of…hot.
No! Not hot! she immediately corrected herself. Slovenly. Yeah, that was it. Seeing him looking the way he did made her think of some lazy hedonist lolling in bed on a Sunday morning. Some dark-haired, sleepy-eyed pleasure monger, waking slowly and stretching his brawny arms high over his head, then smiling down at the woman lying next to him, who—Hey, how about that?—looked a lot like Kendall, then gliding a slow finger across my…I mean, her…naked shoulder, then leaning down to trace the same path with his mouth before rolling me…I mean, her…over onto her back and sliding his hand beneath the covers, down along my…I mean, her…naked torso and settling it between my…I mean, her…I mean…I mean…I mean…
She stifled a groan and stopped thinking about how Matthias looked. Until he lowered the cup of coffee again and ran his tongue along the seam of his lips to savor the lingering taste of it, wherein all Kendall could do was think about how it would feel to have his tongue running along the seam of her lips, too.
Oh. No.
The Donovan contract, she reminded herself. That was why she was here. Not for…anything else. “So, um…what’s the, uh…the problem with the, ah…the Donovan contract,” she finally got out.
For a moment, he looked at her as if he had no idea what she was talking about. Then, “Right,” he finally said. “Come on in.”
He stepped aside to let her enter, and as Kendall pushed past him, she tried not to notice how the fragrance of the coffee mingled with a scent that was distinctly Matthias, something spicy and woodsy whose source she’d never been able to identify. It was probably from the soap or shampoo that he used, though she’d never known another man to smell the way he did—or as good as he did. And smelling him again now, after being deprived for two weeks…
She sighed. What was the matter with her this morning? She was reacting to Matthias as if he were an old boyfriend she hadn’t been ready to break up with.
She reminded herself again that she was nothing more to him than a former employee, and that he was nothing more to her than a former employer. She’d come here because of a professional obligation, not a personal one. The sooner she fixed whatever she’d done wrong with the Donovan contract, the sooner she could get back to work. Her new work. At her new job. With her new boss. One who appreciated her business degree and knowledge. One to whom she owed the greater obligation now. Matthias was her past. No, Barton Limited was her past, she corrected herself. And OmniTech Solutions was her future.
Period.
She spun around as Matthias closed the front door. “What’s the problem?” she asked point blank.
Instead of answering her, he tilted his head toward the sweeping staircase behind him and said, “This way.”
She rankled at the order, but followed him, noting how beautiful the lodge was. Wow. Whoever’d furnished the place had great taste. And they knew a thing or two about making a home comfortable without making it too feminine. Although the colors were bold and the fabrics a little masculine, Kendall would have felt perfectly content staying here herself. And the view of the lake beyond the picture windows was spectacular.
She wondered again about the details of the bequest that required him to be here. It must have been a pretty major requirement to make him take an entire month away from the office. Especially in a place like Lake Tahoe, where there were so few corporate concerns, and no one she could think of that Barton Limited did business with. Then again, in the whole time she’d worked for him, she couldn’t remember him ever taking a vacation of more than a couple of days. So maybe it would do him good to be here for a month. Maybe he’d learn to relax a little. Realize there was more to life than work.
Yeah, right, she thought. And maybe the next World Wrestling champion would be named Stone Cold Sheldon Abernathy.
As her foot hit the stairway landing, her gaze lit on a photograph that was hanging there, and Matthias’s reasons for being in the lodge became clearer. Unable to stop herself, Kendall halted for a moment, smiling at the picture of the—she quickly counted—seven men, all college-aged, one of whom was obviously Matthias. But one was his twin brother, Luke, too, so she wasn’t sure, at first, which was which. Then she noted the way one of the boys’ smiles curled up a little more on one side than the other, and she knew, without question, it was Matthias. Interestingly, he was the one with the longer hair, and was the more raggedly dressed of the two. Funny, because Matthias had always talked about his brother as if Luke were the black sheep of the family, the rebel, the one who wanted to make waves. Looking at the photograph, however, it was Matthias who better fit that description.
“The contract is in the office,” she heard him say from some distance away.
Looking up, she saw that he had continued to the second floor and was striding down the hall without realizing she had stopped. “Hey!” she called after him, surprising herself. She’d never said Hey! to Matthias before. It had always been Excuse me, sir or Pardon me, Mr. Barton, something that had been in keeping with their relationship—which had always been fairly formal. It was just that, being here in this beautiful, comfortable lodge with him, seeing him in sweats and a T-shirt and finding a picture of him from his youth, formal was the last thing she felt.
He spun around at the summons, at first looking as surprised by the casual address as she’d been. Then he saw what she was looking at and…
Huh, she thought. She would have thought he would smile in much the same way as he was smiling in the photograph. Instead, he looked kind of annoyed. Probably because he didn’t want an employee—even a former one—seeing him as anything but the businessman that he was.
Well, tough, she retorted silently. If that was the case, he shouldn’t have made her drive down here. And he certainly shouldn’t have answered the door in his jammies.
He walked slowly back down the hall, and then the stairs, until he stood beside her, hooking his hands on his hips in a way that made him look very put out. “What?” he asked. Interestingly, he didn’t look at the picture, even though he had to realize that was why she’d called him back.
Unfortunately, she suddenly realized she wasn’t sure what she’d intended to say when she’d called him back. She’d mostly just wanted to look at him now and compare him to the boy in the photograph. So she pointed to the picture and said, “Who are these guys you’re with?”
It was with obvious reluctance that Matthias turned to look at the picture. He studied it for only a moment, then turned back to Kendall. “Friends from college. We called ourselves the Seven Samurai.”
“Akira Kurosawa fans, were you?” she asked, proud of herself for knowing the name of the director of the film made half a century ago.
“Actually, I think Hunter was the only one of us who even saw the movie. He’s the one who named us. God knows why.”
“Which one is Hunter?” Kendall asked.
With even more reluctance than before, Matthias lifted his hand and pointed at the young man who was laughing right at the camera. He looked the happiest of the bunch, and gave the impression, even on film, of being their ringleader.
“Where is he now?” Kendall asked.
Matthias hesitated a telling moment before revealing, “He died.”
Something hard and cold twisted in Kendall’s belly at hearing the flatness of Matthias’s voice. Even more than he sounded sad, he sounded…tired. As if the weight of his friend’s death was too much for him to bear.
“What happened?” she asked softly. “He was so young.”
“Melanoma,” he said. “This is his lodge, even though he never lived to see it completed.”
“I’m so sorry, Matthias,” she said quietly. Impulsively, she extended a hand and curled her fingers over his upper arm, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. His skin was warm beneath her fingers, solid, strong. But in that moment, he didn’t seem any of those things himself. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” she told him.
He shook his head. “Actually, since coming here, I’ve had one or two good memories,” he told her. “Things I’d forgotten about.” He did smile then, albeit sadly. Still, it was better to see that than the look of desolation that had clouded his features a moment ago.
She waited to see if he would elaborate on his memories, but he didn’t. And Kendall didn’t want to pry any further than she already had. Even if she was massively curious about the other young men in the picture. And even more curious about the young Matthias.
“So the rest of you will share the house now?” she asked.
“None of us owns the place,” he told her. “But each of us is spending a month here before it goes to its rightful owner. Which will be the town of Hunter’s Landing.”
Kendall smiled. She hadn’t made the connection until now. “So Hunter came from here? Or he’s named after the place?”
Matthias shook his head. “No, I think he just stumbled onto the town and liked that it shared his name. And since it was on the lake, he thought it was the perfect spot for the lodge. We’d all talked about doing something like this in college, building a big party house we’d share someday, but after graduation, we never followed through. We were all too busy,” he said, the last word sounding as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “Busy working,” he added, emphasizing that word in a way that was even less complimentary. Which was strange, since Matthias was the kind of man for whom busyness was one of the seven virtues and for whom work was sheer Nirvana. “Too busy working for useless things like following dreams,” he concluded softly.
His expression had gone soft, too, as he spoke, Kendall noticed, and when he turned away from the picture to look at her again, there was something in his eyes she’d never seen before. Melancholy. It was almost tangible.
“So do you still see the other Samurai?” she asked. “Besides your brother, I mean?”
Who, she had to admit, he hadn’t seen much of. It had only been a couple of months ago that the brothers had even spoken to each other after years of estrangement. And then only because Matthias had needed Luke to switch months at the cabin with him so he could take his trip to Stuttgart. It had been that or break the terms of the will, and Matthias hadn’t wanted to do that. Neither had Luke, which was the only reason he’d gone along with the switch. Ultimately, once everything with Lauren Conover had been smoothed out, the Barton brothers had renewed their relationship. But it was still, Kendall knew, a little strained at times.
Matthias looked at the picture again, seeming to take in each of the men one by one. “I haven’t seen any of them for years,” he said. “Though we’ll all be here for the dedication in September.”
“What dedication?” Kendall echoed.
He nodded, still looking at the photograph. “Once each of us has spent a month here, the house will go to the town, and I think the plan is to turn it into some kind of medical facility or something. Anyway, there’s going to be a big ceremony with the mayor and chamber of commerce or something. All of us will be here, too.”
She smiled. “Sounds like Hunter was a good guy.”
“The best,” Matthias immediately replied. “He was the very best of all of us.” This time, when he smiled, there was genuine warmth, and genuine happiness, in the gesture. Then the smile fell, and he grimaced a bit. “I’m sorry. I’m keeping you longer than I meant to.”
Actually, Kendall thought, she was the one who was holding up things by asking all these questions. She was the one who would make herself even later than she’d intended getting back to Stephen DeGallo. Funny, though, how she hadn’t given Stephen a thought since entering the lodge.
“Hey,” she said again when he started to turn away, more softly than she had the first time.
He spun around again. “What?”
She smiled and pointed to him in the photo. “You looked good with long hair.”
He looked at where she was pointing and asked, “Are you so sure that one’s me? It could be Luke.”
She shook her head. “No, I know it’s you.”
