Chapter 9 Rhett
NINE
RHETT
The conference room door darkened for a moment that stretched a little too long. Even without looking up, I knew who lingered in the opening.
“Darling,” I called out, my eyes on the meeting minutes in front of me, my pen tapping a beat in the margin. “Nice of you to finally join us.”
A long inhale was followed by a sharp exhale. “School drop-off was hectic this morning,” she said, voice light. “The calendar invitation I’d gotten was for nine thirty. If I’d known it was moved earlier, I would’ve organized childcare.”
Mila glanced at me, and in my periphery I saw her brows tug. I’d pulled everyone into the meeting early, wanting to put Darling off-balance when she arrived.
But now she’d thrown that right back at me, and I had the feeling most of the room’s sympathy would go to her.
I met Piper’s gaze, and watched hers narrow.
She took a seat at the opposite end of the long table, as far away from me as possible.
She unzipped her leather folder, took out a pen, and clicked it.
Then she smiled at me, all sharp edges and thinly veiled hostility.
I realized with a start that I’d missed seeing her yesterday.
I couldn’t get enough of her animosity, and I’d only known her a week.
As if she could read my thoughts, her smile widened. “What have I missed?”
“We were just going over the program for the next eight weeks,” I replied. “How about you take it from here and tell us where you’re at with the design.”
Nothing like throwing the new hire in the deep end. I leaned back, and my chair squeaked slightly. Propping my elbows on its arms, I spread my palms in invitation for her to start. While she stood, I tented my fingers and watched.
Spots of red bloomed on her cheeks as she pushed her chair back, delicate fingers tugging the edge of her folder closer. She squared her shoulders, gave me one long, withering look, then brightened with a beaming smile.
The effect hit me like a train and flattened me. I hadn’t quite realized just how beautiful she was until that very moment, her stubbornness and persistence and determination written into every line of that smile.
“One moment,” she said.
The whispering sounds of fabric, chairs, and paper filled the room for a brief moment as everyone shifted and fidgeted during the short break.
Piper ducked out the door and grabbed something she’d left just outside it.
Then she reappeared with the corkboard from her office, which now bore all the samples and swatches she’d swept into her garbage can on Friday.
As she marched toward and past me, her perfume washed over me in a delicate tease.
All my muscles tightened, and I wondered what it was, exactly, I felt for this woman.
She was irritating and uppity and stubborn. And I liked it?
Piper ignored me as she propped her board against the whiteboard, using the lip that held markers and the eraser to hold her work. The corkboard wobbled slightly, and she kept a hand on the top corner as she turned to face us.
“I think I’ve met everyone in the room, but I see one or two new faces. I’m Piper Darling,” she said, all grace and charm. “Here’s something I prepared earlier.” She swept her free arm toward the board, and I glanced around the table to see growing interest on the smiling faces around the room.
The woman was beating me at my own game. She was winning these people over!
Anger simmered inside me, threatening to grow to a rolling boil.
“The concept is cozy elegance,” she said, which wasn’t at all what we’d talked about.
“We’re building a small, local resort that will hopefully grow in the years to come.
The way to do that is to make people feel like they’re in a home away from home.
With rich fabrics, familiar colors, and enough texture to add some interest, I want to bring cabin vibes to an upscale lodge.
” She unpinned that god-awful plaid swatch from the board and passed it to Todd, who sat across from me at the top end of the table nearest Piper.
“We’ve got Grandpa’s favorite chair sitting by the fire.
” A flick of blue eyes in my direction. A tug of her lips.
She unpinned another swatch of dark navy and passed it around.
“Tough, hard-wearing upholstery that will hold up to the battering of ski boots and snowsuits.” She took a third swatch, a cream fabric that, when she handed it to me, was much tougher than it appeared from a distance.
“A place for people to rest, to have a drink, to spend the day waiting for their loved ones to come join them by the fire for a mug of mulled cider.”
The energy in the room had shifted. The first part of the meeting had been construction updates that had most people stifling yawns. But now the team was leaning in, touching the fabric swatches, flipping them over, looking up at Piper like she would lead them to salvation.
And she was doing it with the design I’d told her to change last week.
I opened my mouth to tell her just that, but Nora spoke first. “I love it,” she said.
My head whipped around in the finance manager’s direction, and I caught the admiration in Nora’s eyes as she looked at Piper.
“This is so much better than the soulless, corporate, ultra-polished design the last people came up with. Locals will want to spend time at the resort. This way, the resort becomes part of the community. This is what we pitched to the community to get the project approved.”
“We could even have events there,” Mila mused. “Like the charity home raffle draw. Imagine if we were able to invite the whole town out to celebrate next year!”
Piper beamed. “Home away from home,” she repeated.
It was her smile that banked my anger. She was proud of her work, and she stood by her design. I could do nothing except respect that. And, judging by the murmurs growing in the room, maybe she was right. Maybe I’d missed the point of it all.
The point was to breathe life into the town and make money while I was at it. If I built something that no one in town wanted to visit, how would that help anyone?
The reputation I’d worked so hard to build would start to flake and peel, and people would see the real me. The jealous, angry, avaricious man who pretended to be good just to hide all the parts of him he didn’t want the world to glimpse.
The parts of me that Piper had noticed the moment she’d laid eyes on me in the coffee shop.
“Boss?” Ollie prompted. He wore his site gear, his hair mussed from the hard hat he’d surely worn earlier this morning when he was at the lodge.
I cleared my throat and looked at Piper. She straightened, eyes hardening, as if she had to brace herself to be cut down.
By me.
Guilt churned in my gut, because I didn’t want this beautiful, magnetic, stubborn woman to have to brace herself every time I spoke. A part of me wanted her to see the real me. I just didn’t want her to hate it.
That was why all the biting criticism that had risen with my anger suddenly melted away. I couldn’t dim Piper’s light. Not when she’d backed herself in front of me and everyone else. Not when she was right about the design, and about what the ski resort could mean to the town.
She’d lived in Lovers Peak for a month, worked for me for a week, and she had seen exactly what I and everyone else had missed. The ski resort had to belong to the town, or the town would turn on it. On me.
She’d cut through all the noise and seen through to the core of the issue. Just like she had with me—she’d peeled back my carefully manicured image to see what I wanted to keep hidden.
I cleared my throat. “Last week you mentioned a local upholsterer and a line on someone to work on the staircase.”
Piper paused, as if she needed to probe the edges of my question to make sure it wasn’t a trap.
Finally, she nodded. “Eric Nash. Took over the upholstery business from his father. I gave him the preliminary design, and he seemed positive about getting the work done when we need it. I’m waiting on a detailed quote.
His brother-in-law is available as of next week to start on the staircase, but we’d need to give him an answer by the end of the day for him to source the materials and come up with the final design.
He hasn’t given me a definite timeline, but he seemed to think that as long as he could get the materials, he’d be able to finish by the end of the year. ”
“How long have you lived here?” Mila said beside me, shaking her head. “The old design team was taking a cut of everything they proposed, and here you are, walking into the job, giving work to local businesses.” She slapped me on the shoulder. “Where in the world did you find her? She’s amazing!”
Piper turned away to hide the flush crawling up her neck. “This town is really special,” she said. “I think we should highlight it.”
Checkmate, Darling. With that line, she made it impossible for me to criticize her—not that I wanted to.
Admiration built in my gut until I couldn’t quite remember why I’d been so mad at her just a few moments ago.
She didn’t meet my gaze as she took her design down from the wobbly whiteboard ledge and walked past me, but her gaze lifted as she sat down.
Chin tilting up, she arched a brow in challenge.
If she didn’t have the power to ruin the image I’d worked so hard to build, I might’ve actually liked her. For now, I inclined my head and hoped she’d accept it as a truce.
For now.