A Lasting Proposal. C.J. Carmichael
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more complicated than that.
Watching her read, he felt a new tension, unrelated to the business prospects of this meeting. Damn, but she was gorgeous. Without her daughter around, though, there was no hint of the vulnerability he’d thought he’d glimpsed at the wedding. This woman was tough, he conceded. Yet something about her tight smile and the defiant angle of her chin made him want to touch her hand reassuringly.
He had little doubt she’d slap him if he dared.
“Well?” he asked when she appeared to be done.
She dropped the page on the table with no comment. “You said your accountant prepared some financial projections?”
“Oh, yeah.” He’d almost forgotten about them. Now he reached into his back pants pocket and pulled out the folded square package. Seeing Maureen’s mouth droop at the sight, he regretted not heeding Harvey’s advice and having the report printed and bound professionally. With care he pressed out the stapled sheets, then passed them over.
“Thanks.” Maureen checked everything very carefully. As she read, she tore away at the bagel, eating it molecule by molecule. She was only a quarter of the way through the bread when she was done with the documents.
“What about years with poor snowfall?” she asked.
“Hasn’t happened yet. Before choosing my location, I researched the weather patterns. We get the best precipitation in the Rockies.”
“I see.” Maureen didn’t look at all impressed. “Also, when you mention sharing profits, I assume that would be before depreciation and amortization?”
He realized she was trying to bamboozle him. Just because his presentation was a trifle unsophisticated didn’t make him a fool. “No,” he said firmly. “I can’t pay out profits without making provision for replacing my equipment as it wears out.”
She gave a slight smile. “Fair enough.”
“So…” He waited as she took another nibble from her bagel. “What do you think?”
Her head dipped in a cautious nod. “Your numbers are fantastic. And Cathleen and Dylan have every confidence you can continue to deliver in the future.”
“So will you before this season is out.”
She slid the sunglasses down her nose a fraction of an inch and peered over the top of the frames. “You seem pretty sure of yourself.”
“Really? I was thinking you could give me a few lessons.”
Maureen laughed and it transformed her entire face. The tension he’d felt earlier tightened like a belt across his chest. He thought again about how long he’d been without a woman….
Then told himself he was a raving lunatic even to entertain the thought. This lady was the antithesis of what he looked for. He preferred women who dressed for fun, not business. Women who could let their hair down, who took nothing seriously, especially not him.
This woman had baggage. She was a widow with a troubled daughter. Most scary of all, she brought out feelings in him he couldn’t understand, let alone name.
And she had the power to write him a check for several hundred thousand dollars. He couldn’t forget that.
MAUREEN WAS SO ENGROSSED in her conversation with Jake that at first she didn’t notice the man by the window staring at her. When she gave a casual glance to the side and their gazes connected, she felt a fissure of distaste, and a sense of having seen him somewhere before.
He was tall, in his late fifties, and looked like a golfer, with his overly tanned skin, cotton pants and short-sleeved T-shirt with a collar. Caught staring, he wasn’t at all abashed. Just nodded and grinned. Smug. Arrogant. She turned her back and waited a moment before asking.
“Who’s that man? Sitting by himself at the window…”
“That’s our mayor,” Jake said. “Max Strongman. Surely Dylan and Cathleen have told you about him.”
“Oh!” She took a second look and was relieved that he wasn’t watching her anymore. “Yes, of course. I think we met once, many years ago.” She lowered her voice. “Dylan believes Max put James up to killing Rose.”
“So do I,” Jake said frankly. “James came out for a week of heli-skiing two winters ago. While no coward, I wouldn’t call him a deep thinker. He’s the kind of man easily influenced by those around him.”
“Do you feel he was behind Jilly Beckett’s murder, too?”
“That’s trickier, although I wouldn’t put that past him, either. Both he and his father seem to have a vendetta against Dylan.”
“Which makes sense,” Maureen pointed out, “when you consider Dylan has always been their only real obstacle to the McLean property.”
“And all the money from the oil wells and future property development,” Jake agreed. “No doubt they’d love to see him behind bars. I think Jilly’s death was supposed to be a setup for Dylan. At any rate, it stopped the protest that might have delayed their oil deal.”
Maureen tried another taste of the bagel. It was good, but she didn’t care for the cream cheese slathered on top. Mention of Jilly reminded her of Linda, who was rarely out of her thoughts these days. One day soon she had to call her….
“I was at Jilly’s father’s funeral last week.” She had no idea what had prompted her to tell Jake. But he leaned forward with apparent interest.
“Yeah, I read about Beckett. Very sad.”
“I have this strange feeling that we haven’t yet uncovered the truth about the night Jilly was killed, and there may be more lives lost because of it.” Maureen paused, wondering whether Jake had any clue what she meant, or if he was nodding to be polite.
“I feel the same way. When I see Max Strongman walking the streets of this town, living off the gravy from his dead wife’s oil wells, well, I tell you, it just doesn’t sit right.”
“Even before you told me his name, I had this antipathy toward him.”
“That proves you have good instincts.”
Maureen knew she did, and for that reason she almost always went with her gut feeling when it was strong. As it was about Jake Hartman.
That was why, despite the potential problems with this heli-skiing business, she’d decided to go ahead with the deal. It would take most of Rod’s insurance proceeds, but if the returns were as good as expected, the risk would be well worth it.
Her only hesitation came from the prospect of working with Jake. It concerned her that as a supposedly mature man he was still devoting his life to the toys and games that belonged to youth.
Just like Rod.
Ah, but she wasn’t marrying Jake, was she. Merely going into partnership with him. It didn’t matter that he was so damn attractive. Or that he seemed to have an uncanny ability to read her mind.
“Cathleen tells me you’re considering moving to Canmore?”
“Considering,” she emphasized. “If I can sell my place in Calgary, work out a deal with my partners at the law firm, find the right place to buy here in Canmore.” She smiled ruefully at all the uncertainties yet to be faced.
“Do you have a real estate agent looking for you?”
“Yes. My sisters have hooked me up with Beth Gibson. She used to run a catering business, but I understand she’s been in real estate for several years now and is one of the top selling agents in town.”
“As well as being an alderwoman on town council,” Jake said. “She’s quite an amazing person, all right.”
Maureen’s cell phone on the table rang. With an apologetic shrug, she turned it off after checking the display to see who had