Breath of Scandal (35 page)

"I came to hire a general contractor." "A developer usually does that."

-GSS has a development company. A man named David Sefffin is in charge of TexTile. He sent me out to meet Matthias, who had come highly recommended, although I now doubt the authenticity of his references."

"If this Seffrin is the developer, why are you hiring?" "The contractor awarded this job must meet with my approval. This plant is my baby, Mr. Burke. It has been from its inception. I'll be working closely with the contractor for a long time, so it's essential that I feel he's right for the project. " Leaning forward slightly, she said, "I believe you are the man I need."

His sharp barking laugh drew glances from other restaurant patrons. "Yeah, right." He looked himself over, fingering a ragged hole in the knee of his jeans. "I look like the boss man, all right. You could pick me out of any lineup. "

"I couldn't care less what you look like."

He shook his head adamantly. "I'm not your man. Sorry to disappoint you."

"You're from the South, Mr. Burke." He gave her a sharp, inquisitive look. "One Southern accent recognizes another," she said. "And you were familiar with the issue of industry versus tourism. '

"So you'd hire me on the basis of my Southern accent alone?"

6 'No, I'd hire you on the basis of your qualifications." "I'm not qualified."

"Don't bullshit me." Again, his eyebrow arched in surprise. "You can decline my offer, but don't lie to me. I'm sure you have a good reason to hide behind your beard and that monstrous chip on your shoulder, but you're qualified for this job.

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"The secretary didn't only talk about Matthias, she told me a lot about you. Things were in a mess when you happened along. Soon after you were hired, you began spotting problems and giving Matthias advice until he didn't make a move without consulting you first. He doesn't hire any subcontractors without getting your opinion. Isn't that right?"

He merely stared at her stonily.

"She said you seemed to be an expert on everything, from reading blueprints to ironwork to installing electrical conduit. She said Matthias resented you for quarreling with him over inferior materials, but that he didn't dare fire you because you had made yourself indispensable. Is this true?"

He pulled the comer of his mustache through his teeth. "I have your social security number," she added quietly. "I'll check on you. So don't bother lying to me."

He muttered a string of curses, then said, "Maybe at one time I was qualified, but I haven't done anything more than menial labor in seven years. I haven't wanted to. I don't want to. I just want to be left the hell alone."

"Why?" "None of your goddamn business."

Once again his raised, angry voice attracted the attention of nearby diners. "I think it's time we left," Jade suggested. "Ready?"

"Past ready."

"Where can we drop you?" she asked, once they were ensconced in the backseat of the limo.

"At the site. My pickup is parked there. At least I hope to God it's still there."

Jade gave the address to the chauffeur, then sat back against the seat. "In spite of the fact he needs you, Matthias won't welcome you back. So what will you do tomorrow, Mr. Burke?"

"Sleep late, I guess." "And then?"

"Go looking for a job." "Just any job?"

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"That's right. Just any job. Just anywhere. It doesn't really matter. "

"I think it does. " He whipped his head around and glared at her for contradicting him. "I think it matters a lot more than you'll admit to yourself." She reached for the attachd Case on the floorboard and opened it. "This is the prospectus Mr. Seffrin prepared for the TexTile plant. I'd like you to keep it and look it over. " She handed him the proposal, which was bound in a clear plastic folder. "I'm going back to New York tomorrow. Is there a number where I can reach YOU in a few days?"

"No. And looking over this prospectus won't change my mind. "

"The salary is five thousand dollars a month, effective upon signing a contract. A twenty-five-thousand-dollar bonus will be payable upon completion to my satisfaction." There was no mention of a bonus in the prospectus. George Stein would blow a gasket, but she needed all the perks she could devise.

"I don't give a damn about money."

"Oh, really? You were going to charge a thousand dollars io spend the night with me," she reminded him.

"I was trying to insult you." "It worked."

He ran his hand through his long, unkempt hair. "Thanks for getting me out of jail, but you've wasted your time." "I don't think so." The limousine slid to the curb at the

dark, deserted work site. "You know where to contact me when you've reached a decision, Mr. Burke."

"You don't listen, do you? I've already reached a decision. My answer is no." The chauffeur came around and opened the door for him. He set one foot on the pavement, but turned back and asked, "What did you say your first name is?"

"Jade. I I

"Thanks for dinner, Jade, but I like my steaks well done." Moving suddenly, he cupped the back of her head and hauled her against him. His mouth covered hers in a

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hard kiss. He thrust his tongue between her lips, spearing deeply but briefly, before immediately releasing her. "I apologize for the rudeness. I sometimes do that without thinking. It's a bad habit of mine."

He got out, leaving her speechless, her lips damp and throbbing.

Standing in the doorway of her office, Dillon felt gawky, out of place, and too large for his clothes. After years of working outdoors, being inside an office building made him feel claustrophobic.

Jade Sperry was sitting behind her desk, speaking into the telephone. Her back was to the door. Her dark hair had been pulled into a low ponytail and secured with a gold clasp, but she was idly twining one stray curl around her index finger.

"Another thing, Cathy, please call Graham's school and make an appointment with the principal. I want to see him before I leave . . . Uh-hub ... No, I won't forget. Thanks for reminding me. I'll be home around six. Bye."

She hung up the phone and spun around in her chair, drawing a quick little breath when she saw him standing there. "I'm sorry. Can I help you?"

"How soon they forget."

Astonishment altered her features, making her eyes larger and brighter and her mouth softer. "Mr. Burke?"

He shrugged self-consciously.

Quickly she stood up and rounded her desk. She was wearing a white blouse, a straight black skirt, and the same black high heels she had been wearing in L.A. two weeks earlier. Her legs were as good as he remembered.

"I didn't recognize you without your beard," she said. "And you hair's shorter, isn't it?"

"That's a polite way of saying that I finally got a haircut. I even dressed up." Self-derisively he spread his arms at his sides. He had worn his best pair of jeans and a new shirt. As an afterthought, he had even bought a necktie at the K-Mart where he had purchased the shirt. It had been

so long since he had tied a necktie, it had taken him three tries and countless cuss words to get it right.

Studying his new image in the YMCA mirror, he decided that he had done the best he could, and that if he wasn't good enough for her, that was just too damn bad. Who needed this anyway?

He did.

Dillon had come to that conclusion after days of soulsearching anguish. Damn her! Jade Sperry had succeeded in getting him excited over something for the first time in seven years. The lady was nuts to entrust a project of this magnitude to a burned-out, bummed-out drifter like him, but-God!-the challenge was irresistible.

"I'm sorry for staring," she said, recovering her composure. "You look so different. Sit down, please."

He took the chair she indicated. "I probably should have called first." Actually he hadn't dared. He was afraid she would tell him that the position had already been filled. It was going to be a crushing disappointment if it had been. The prospect made his voice husky. "I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time."

"Not at all." She resumed her place behind her desk. He surveyed her office with interest. Everything in it was sleek and contemporary, yet it was warm, with pots of African violets blooming on the windowsill and framed art renderings, drawn by an amateur hand, decorating the walls. Each crayon picture was signed, "Graham Sperry."

"My son," she remarked, following his gaze. "He's fourteen now. It embarrasses him that I keep his gradeschool drawings."

"Fourteen," Dillon murmured. Charlie would have been eight his next birthday. He smoothed his hand over his heavy mustache, which he had decided to keep when he shaved off his beard.

"Can I get you a coffee or something cold?" "No, thanks."

"When did you leave L.A.?- "A week ago. I drove."

"Oh, I see. That must have been quite an experience."

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"It was okay," he replied laconically. Was she stalling, unwilling to tell him she'd found somebody with a better attitude?

"Is this your first time in New York?" "Yes."

"What do you think?" "It's all right."

After a short silence, she said, "I hope you have good news for me."

-is the job still open?" "Yes."

"Not anymore."

Her eyes lit up, but she kept her voice calm. "I'm very pleased to hear that, Mr. Burke - "

"Why? You found me in jail. You don't know how I work. I don't have my own business."

"I decided while I was in California that I didn't want a company. An individual is less intimidating than a large company. "

"I still don't get it," Dillon said.

"We want TexTile to belong to the community of Palmetto. Using local construction workers and regionally based subcontractors would be a move in the right direction. I shared this idea with Mr. Seffrin, and he agrees. The fact that you don't have your own labor force is actually a plus And," she added, emphasizing her Southern drawl, "you speak their language. You don't sound like an interloper, and we're trying to avoid appearing as such."

"And this Sefffin fellow-"

"Trusts my instincts, although I must tell you that during this interim, we've been looking elsewhere. You're still my first choice, so I'm very pleased to see you here. Now, tell me how you work." She clasped her hands on top of her desk and assumed a listening expression.

"Essentially, I've done a little bit of everything relating to building, but what I like most is putting the whole thing together. "

"Before I knew he was an outright crook, the first thing that turned me off Matthias was his hands, " she said.

"They were soft. He manages from behind a desk. I need someone who supervises every aspect of the construction, who works one to one with the subs and the laborers."

"No problem there. That's the way I like to do it."

I 'Good. This job also requires someone who is committed to the project. From the time we break ground until completion, you can count on it taking at least two years."

"I've got nothing better to do."

"Relocating in Palmetto won't be a problem for you?" "Absolutely none. As you guessed, I grew up in the South and got my degree from Georgia Tech."

"Is there anything else you'd like to discuss before I have the contracts department draw up our work agreement?" "What about the subs?"

"What about them?"

"I'll get no fewer than three bids for every job," he said. -Am I obligated to award the job to the lowest bidder?" "Not if you don't feel comfortable about it." "Sometimes the lowest bid turns out to be the most ex-

pensive in the long run-if the work has to be redone." "I think we understand each other, Mr. Burke. Now, if I can see your references, we'll be all set."

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He had been dreading this part. "I can't provide you with references." "Oh? Why not?"

"For the last several years, I've moved around a lot. Burned bridges. I'd get in a fight, or get drunk, or get fed up with the boss's incompetence and never go back." He shrugged. "References weren't a priority. Anyway, I don't have any."

"How do I know that you won't get in a fight, get drunk, and walk out on me?"

"You don't. You'll just have to take my word for it." Dillon held his breath. Since he had come this far, he wasn't certain he could bear the disappointment if she rejected him now. He wanted this job. It was essential to him. It meant the difference between starting to live again and merely continuing to exist.

She stood up again and moved around the desk. "You'll

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need to be in Palmetto by May first. I've scheduled a town meeting during which I will announce our plans, and you should be there."

"You mean I'm hired?"

"You're hired. Between now and May first, almost every minute of your workday will revolve around meetings with Seffrin, the architect, the designer, and me. You've got your work cut out for you, Mr. Burke. I'll try and scare up an empty office for you to use."

He was hired! He was too stunned to react. She extended her hand. "Do we have a deal?"

Dillon stood up and enclosed her hand. There was a vast difference between shaking hands with Jade Sperry and shaking hands with another man. Her hand was small, for one thing, and cool and dry and soft. It didn't seem to fit into such a masculine gesture, yet the feel of it left at) impression long after he had released it.

"Excuse me. I won't be long."

She left him alone in her office. He moved to the window and gazed out over the city. It was still hard for him to believe that this was happening. The night she had taken him to dinner, he had thrown up a dozen barriers to her and her proposal. Afterward, however, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

Finally he had relented and picked up the prospectus she had left with him. After he'd read it a dozen times, GSS's TexTile plant became as much an obsession as his grief was.