A Lasting Proposal. C.J. Carmichael
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case requiring all that travel to Edmonton had done it. Or maybe it was Conrad Beckett’s funeral. Or the lyrics she’d listened to on Holly’s ghetto blaster last week when her daughter was out of the house.
“Then you should definitely check out Jake’s proposal. If it appeals, you could move back to Canmore. You’ll make a ton of money selling your house, too.”
“How much capital is Hartman looking for?” It couldn’t hurt to check this out. Although the idea of being partners with Jake was a little…disturbing.
Hard to say why exactly. Just that something about the man had set her nerves on edge. The way he kept watching her…
Yet for every time his gaze had been on her, her gaze had been on him. Even during the service, when she should have been concentrating on Cathleen and Dylan. She remembered thinking, that man knows.
He knows I’m only pretending to mourn for my husband.
CHAPTER THREE
JAKE WAS PLEASED THAT HE’D managed to snag an outdoor table in front of the Bagel Bites Café. From the tray in his hand, he unloaded two coffees in foam cups and two toasted bagels with cream cheese. Out of the back pocket of his jeans he pulled a one-page partnership agreement.
He smoothed the folds from the paper, then placed it on the table in front of the unoccupied chair.
Maureen Shannon was ten minutes late.
No big deal. She was driving from Calgary, so it had to be difficult to time her arrival exactly. He had coffee, a comfortable place to sit and warm sunshine on his face. Settling in his chair, he stretched out his legs and told himself he didn’t mind waiting.
“Something wrong, Jake?” One of the women who worked behind the counter was clearing tables. “You seem a little edgy. Mind moving your foot so I can get by?”
Jake shifted his legs and frowned. He wasn’t edgy. It was just that these damn plastic chairs were too small for someone his size. And his new hiking boots weren’t as comfortable as his old ones. And he hadn’t put enough cream in his coffee….
Okay, so he was nervous. Embarrassing to admit, but true. He tapped his foot and checked his watch again. Fifteen minutes late.
He didn’t know why he was uptight about this meeting. If this didn’t work out, he’d find another investor.
Yeah, right. They’d be lining up at his door, checkbooks in hand.
Jake sipped his coffee while he scanned the people passing by. Monday mornings in May were pretty quiet in Canmore. Few tourists this early in the season. And the regulars had their jobs—many of them commuted to Calgary.
He wondered what Maureen’s plans were. According to Cathleen, she was toying with the idea of moving. Somehow he couldn’t picture her living here, though. Unlike her two sisters, she was obviously a city woman.
Of course, he’d only met her a few times, the last occasion being Cathleen and Dylan’s wedding. Her husband had been dead just a few months, so he’d expected her to be pretty shaken up. But she was so together it was almost scary. She’d reminded him of the plastic Christmas trees he saw every season in department store windows. Everything about her was so perfect she didn’t seem real—from her appearance, which was all big-city polish, to her take-charge manner, to her perfect composure throughout the ceremony.
She’d been one of the few not to tear up during the exchange of wedding vows. Jake had recognized the cynicism he’d glimpsed within those china-doll blue eyes—he, too, held little faith in happily ever after. But he’d never been married, and Maureen had. What life experiences had put that chilly smile on her soft, pretty lips?
And what was going on between her and her daughter? The only time Maureen displayed any vulnerability was when she was watching Holly. But Holly studiously avoided her mother’s gaze at all times. Something was definitely wrong there.
Out on the street a black BMW slowed. The driver skillfully maneuvered the vehicle into one of the parallel-parking spots half a block down from the café. The car shouted “big city,” so he wasn’t surprised when Maureen Shannon stepped out from behind the steering wheel. Holding her blond hair back with one hand, she checked for traffic before hauling a big leather briefcase from the back seat.
Early thirties, he figured, knowing she was the eldest of the Shannon sisters. She had the composure of a mature woman, and the stride of someone with no time to lose. He watched her approach, appreciating her tall, long-limbed form. She wore a black pants suit with a white blouse. Sunglasses hid her eyes. He removed his own, preparing to flag her down.
She seemed to be talking to herself. As she neared, he saw she was speaking into a small microphone attached to the phone in her other hand.
“Didn’t you get my e-mail?”
He could hear her now.
“Don’t worry. After this meeting I’ll go to my sister’s and connect my laptop. You’ll have another copy before lunch.”
Then she was at his table and smiling brilliantly. “Jake Hartman?”
He stood to take her hand.
“Good to see you, Maureen. How was the drive from Calgary?”
“Beautiful. Absolutely stunning.” She removed her glasses to look at him, but the sun was so bright she crinkled her eyes and put them back on. “Great weather, isn’t it?”
He agreed, pulling out her chair.
Maureen glanced at the table and frowned. “You ordered for me?”
He shrugged. “To save time. How’s your daughter doing—Holly, right?”
Maureen shifted her gaze uncertainly. “She still misses her dad.”
“I guess that’s to be expected.”
Settling her briefcase at her side, Maureen sat. “Cathleen tells me you have a business proposition.”
So there was to be no more time wasted on chit-chat, Jake surmised. It wasn’t his style; he preferred to ease into serious subjects the way you waded slowly into a cold lake.
No, the deep plunge wasn’t his way. But he could be flexible. “I have plans for upgrading my heli-skiing business—Grizzly Peaks. Problem is, I’ve never liked dealing with banks, so my accountant suggested I look for an equity investor—” what had Dylan called it? “—a silent partner.”
“Right. Tell me a bit about yourself, Jake. When did you start this business? What do you see as your strengths and weaknesses?”
She was making him feel like a job applicant. It was amusing in a way. He’d earned enough of a name for himself at Grizzly Peaks that most people around here were well aware of his reputation. But Maureen wasn’t from Canmore, and she had every right to know about the man she was considering investing her money with.
“I started Grizzly Peaks about ten years ago on seventy-five hundred square kilometers of untouched backcountry. Our customers fly in by charter helicopter to home base. And they’re treated to the best. Besides a hundred thousand feet of vertical skiing, we provide guides, gourmet food and lodging. We’ve even got hot tubs and saunas and a complete health club in our main lodge.”
“Rod always wanted to try heli-skiing,” she muttered, tearing off a small corner of her bagel and eating it tentatively, as if she expected it to be laced with cayenne pepper or something.
“It’s a total blast. I’ll take you and your kid on a complimentary junket one day.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“It’s not dangerous if you’re with an experienced outfit.”
“I’ve heard that line once too often in my life.” She picked up the partnership agreement he’d written and read it through.
Jake