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“Sometimes it is.”
“You’re ten years older and wiser,” Mason reminded him.
“True. But age and wisdom can’t undo what I did to her. Only reparation can do that.”
“It’s true that I haven’t worked for you long, but I’m sensing something.” Mason’s attorney expression returned. “Did she mention retaining legal counsel?”
“No.”
“She should,” Mason pointed out. “To protect her rights.”
“I have no intention of treating her unfairly in the divorce settlement.”
The other man’s eyes narrowed. “Then what did you do?”
“I offered her a job.”
“Doing what?”
Linc hadn’t shared his research on Rose. “She has an interior-design business and it’s not doing well. She needs some help.”
“So, you’re giving her money?” There was no approval or judgment in the other man’s voice, he was just seeking clarification of facts.
“No. I want to hire her to decorate my place in Blackwater Lake. With the possibility of future high-profile projects to strengthen her résumé and get more work.”
Mason thought that over, then nodded approvingly. “Smart move. Keep her happy to avoid an ugly and public divorce. In the long run a goodwill gesture could be less expensive than a lawsuit for retroactive alimony. Alienation of affection.”
“This has nothing to do with dodging back–spousal support. She’s entitled to a generous settlement.” Pain and suffering came to mind and Linc winced. He hated that he was the one who’d hurt her. “But you should know that she hasn’t agreed to my offer yet.”
It had been long enough and Linc was beginning to wonder if Rose planned to ignore his proposition. He wasn’t sure what constituted a decent length of time to allow her for consideration, but time was almost up. He’d give her another twenty-four hours, but if there was no word, he planned to make good on his promise to contact her.
“You’re a good man, Linc.”
“Don’t tell anyone. No one would believe you but it could be bad for my business reputation if that rumor got out.”
“There’s this handy thing called attorney-client privilege and it means I’m not allowed to reveal your confidential information.”
Even if Mason swore on a bible, Linc was pretty sure Rose wouldn’t believe him. Leaving her had ripped out his heart and if she hurt even half that bad it made what he’d done unforgivable. So, the longer it took for her to get back to him, the more determined he became to hire her. If necessary he would sweeten the deal. Somehow...
His cell phone rang and he picked it up, checking the caller ID. What a coincidence. Before it sounded again, he answered. “Rose.”
“Hello, Linc. I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
Her voice was businesslike with just a hint of sultriness in the slight lisp. It took a lot of self-control to hold off on a hard sell. “And?”
“I’d like to discuss it in more detail.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you for dinner. In say...” He looked at the watch on his wrist. “An hour?”
“Tonight?” She sounded surprised.
“Yes. I’m free.” He met Mason’s gaze and shrugged.
“Tomorrow at my studio would be fine,” she said.
Did she have a date? With the guy she was “almost engaged” to? A knot tightened in his gut. “Do you have plans?”
“No, but—”
“Then I’ll pick you up in about an hour,” he said. “What do you say?”
There was hesitation on the other end of the line that was just about to turn awkward. Then she said, “I’ll meet you at the diner. There’s only one in Prosper so you can’t miss it.”
“Okay. See you then.”
After he ended the call Mason cleared his throat. “So, I get bumped for dinner with your wife. Should my feelings be hurt?”
“Come on, Mason. We both know lawyers don’t have feelings.” He grinned at the other man. “You said yourself this was a smart move. I have to close the deal on my goodwill gesture.”
And if this was a little more than goodwill that would just be a secret not even his attorney knew.
* * *
Rose didn’t know what to make of the fact that Linc was able and, dare she say it, eager to have this meeting on such short notice. She hesitated to say he dropped everything but it kind of felt that way.
She’d intended to be at the diner first but got a call about a potential job and had to take it. She wanted to be the one watching him make the long walk past the counter and swivel stools to the booths and tables at the far end. In a perfect world they would both have arrived at the same time, but why should her world start being perfect now? A world where she was in control and not nervous about what the man who’d walked out on her was up to.
Now she was late and moving toward a table in the back, where he was sitting and staring at her.
If only she knew what he was thinking. On the upside... She was ten years older and less likely to give a rat’s behind what Lincoln Hart was thinking. It had taken her a long time to get to a place where she didn’t care and no matter what Vicki thought, she really didn’t.
She slid into the red-padded booth seat and met his gaze across the gray Formica table. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No problem.” There was a nearly empty coffee mug in front of him. Apparently he’d been here long enough to drink it.
Rose waited to feel guilty about keeping him waiting, but couldn’t quite manage. “I had to take a work call.”
“Of course,” he said reasonably. “I hope it wasn’t a crisis situation.”
As opposed to sitting across from the man who once broke her heart and trying to pretend that same heart wasn’t pounding so hard it might give out?
She shook her head. “No crisis.”
“Good.”
Again she cursed the unfairness of him looking even better than he had ten years ago. She didn’t remember his eyes being such a dark shade of blue or that his shoulders were quite so wide. Could be the white dress shirt he was wearing, with the long sleeves rolled up to midforearm. It was a look she’d once loved on him and that thought didn’t do much to slow her pulse.
“So I’m glad you called,” he said.
“Hmm?” She blinked, suddenly realizing she’d been staring at his chest while her mind skipped down memory lane, very close to the point where she wondered how he looked without a shirt now. “Right. My call. Thanks for meeting me.”
“You wanted to discuss the job offer.”
“Yes.”
Before she could say more, the waitress came over to take their orders. Rose had been hungry until seeing Linc put knots in her stomach the size of a Toyota. But she figured a half-sandwich-and-salad combo would work. He asked for a burger and fries so obviously his appetite was totally unaffected by seeing her. That was irritating.
When they were alone again she asked, “Where is this condo again? The one you need decorated?”
“Blackwater Lake, Montana. It’s a picturesque town that’s being compared to Vail and Aspen in Colorado.”
“And what are we talking about? Paint? Furniture? A theme?”
He nodded. “Everything. Flooring, fixtures, carpet. Right now it’s just a shell and the builder left it that way at my request.”
“It’s my understanding that you can’t get a mortgage unless the flooring is installed.”
“I don’t have a mortgage.”
Of course he didn’t. His family had buckets of money. Whether or not he was a Hart by blood, clearly Linc was one of their own. Rose refused to wonder what it would have been like to be married to him and not have to worry about the money to pay her rent. It would be dishonest to say she hadn’t been dazzled by the glitz and glamour of the Hart name and all it represented, but that’s not why she’d fallen in love with him.
“So you’re talking about cupboards, sinks and everything?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re not living there yet.”
“No,” he replied.
Rose waited for him to fill in the blank of where he did stay but that didn’t happen. “Are there accommodations in this picturesque place?”
“I’ll handle that and pay all of your expenses.”
There was a question she just had to ask because it would be stupid not to. “What’s in this for you, Linc?”
His easygoing expression didn’t waver. “I get a beautifully decorated condo. What else would there be?”
“That’s what I’d like to know. You led me on once and even married me to get what you wanted, so I’d just like to know if I should be worried.”
“I can’t stop you. But I give you my word that I only want to take advantage of your decorating expertise to make my place a serene and comfortable space to live in.”
“So this time you’re not planning to get me into bed and have your way with me under false pretenses?”
His gaze narrowed, a sign that the barb drew a little blood. “There were no false pretenses the first time.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“There’s nothing I can say to change that.” His mouth pulled tight for a moment. “But let me add this—I researched your company and it’s in trouble. Decorating my place is more than a job. It’s an opportunity for the kind of publicity that you can’t afford. I feel badly about what happened and this is my way of making it up to you.”
So it was pity.
The words made her feel both better and worse. There was some satisfaction in calling him on the crap he’d pulled but he really had all the power. Her business needed help and no one else was offering. “Okay, then. I’ll put together a contract with a rough estimate of my time and a price. You can decide if it’s acceptable.”
“It will be.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“I don’t have to.” He took a sip of coffee and met her gaze over the rim of the mug.
She knew he was a successful executive and didn’t achieve his level of affluence by making bad deals. “What if the charges are inflated?”
“I have trust.”
“That makes one of us because I don’t trust you.”
“You’ve made that really clear. And I completely understand.” Again with the irritating reasonableness. “I’m happy to pay whatever you want to charge for your services.”
“You do realize I’m not a hooker.”
Even though it had been a quickie marriage in Vegas that’s the way he’d made her feel ten years ago. Her words produced barely a flicker of an eyelash but she knew they’d hit their target again. Well, too darn bad. And the exhilaration she felt right now was proof that she’d deliberately provoked him. Not smart to cut off her nose to spite her face but she just couldn’t help it. That’s not something she would have said to any other client and she had better try to rein in the sarcasm because there was no telling how far he could be pushed. “I’ll rephrase,” he said. “Whatever your interior-designer fee is I will pay it, along with travel and living expenses while we are in Blackwater Lake.”
“You’re going, too? It can all be done in email—”
“I have business there anyway.”
Of course she’d suspected he probably would be going but when he put the words out there the reality of it all really sank in. If she was going to back out it would have to be now.
Control was an illusion because she really had little choice. No way her business was going down without a fight. She met his gaze. “Agreed.”
“Excellent.” He looked decidedly pleased and that was irksome.
Which was why she added, “I’m glad you decided to have this meeting in person. I felt it necessary to emphasize how much I don’t trust you and wanted to see your reaction to my terms.”
“And?”
“You fooled me once, but this time I’m in the driver’s seat.” Although it was kind of a pathetic seat since she had very little bargaining room.
The waitress returned with a tray bearing food and she set plates in front of them. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Ketchup,” she and Linc said together.
“You know each other pretty well.” The woman smiled and pointed to the condiments next to the napkin dispenser. “It’s already on the table.”
Linc met her gaze when they were alone. “So, you haven’t forgotten that I like ketchup with fries.”
“If memory serves it was practically a religious experience,” she said.
“Yeah. Nice to know some things don’t change.”
