Chapter 14
Jack
L istening to Maisie shower is a form of torture I never expected to experience. My mind keeps envisioning her pressed up against me again. I could feel the brush of her breasts on my chest with her every breath. I’ll never forget the way her eyes dilated while she stared up at me in shock. Every instinct I have is demanding that I walk into that bedroom and claim her. It’s a pounding, incessant thought marching in my brain.
I grip the sheets tightly as the shower turns off and imagine her stepping out onto the mat, wrapping the bath towel around her wet body with her hair in another messy bun on the top of her head.
Maisie moves around in her room for a few more minutes before the house quiets. I slowly relax my grip on the sheets, rolling over and staring at the empty space next to me in my bed, wondering what she would look like laid out there, her eyes closed while her white-blonde hair drapes over the dark sheets.
I close my eyes and try to think about anything else to dispel the image. Memories of Antony and Monica in bed together rise to the surface, and I grit my teeth as my body finally calms.
Right. Business. We’re here for business and nothing more. I must keep my eye on the prize and my hands off Miss Maisie Mitchell. Rolling back over, I pound my pillow and fall into my worst sleep in years.
***
I wake up the following day and force myself to sit on the side of the bed, rubbing my face in exhaustion. I need to get moving, be on my A-game, and close this deal. However, as I focus on regaining my lost motivation, the familiar sounds and smells from the kitchen seep into my consciousness, offering a comforting respite from my fatigue.
Throwing on a sweater, I pad downstairs, my socks soundless on the steps. When I reach the living room area that opens to the kitchen, I can see Maisie tossing something repeatedly in a skillet. Whatever she’s cooking smells divine, and my stomach grumbles in appreciation. Maisie dances around again, singing and cooking, completely oblivious to my approach.
“Good Morning.” I smile wide when she once again squeaks and jumps in surprise. This time, I’m out of the danger zone, and my sweater remains safe.
“ You. Need. A. BELL !” Maisie seethes playfully while aiming the kitchen utensil in my direction. She glares at me before turning around and grabbing something. Then she slams it down in front of me. An Americano.
I pick up the cup and take a sip. It’s perfect, as always. “What are you cooking? It smells delicious.” I lean over to see all the different pots and pans on the stove.
“I’m making a fry-up.” She’s slicing, dicing, and flipping things, and I watch in wonder as a full plate sits in front of me a few minutes later. There are eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and some beans.
“Are those baked beans?” I poke at the offending legume.
“Well, it wouldn’t be a proper fry-up without them, now would it?” Maisie grabs her own plate and heads for the table.
I follow suit. “I wouldn’t know, seeing as I’ve never had one.” I pick up a piece of toast and take a bite. It’s perfectly buttered.
“How did you live with Gio and my dad all those years and never have a fry-up?” She spears a mushroom, humming to herself as she chews.
“College boys are not always the best at cooking. I think we mostly lived on dodgy kebabs and ramen.” I try the mushrooms and groan at how delicious they are. Suddenly starving, I attack everything else on the plate. I can’t help but marvel at how tasty it all is—somehow it works together too.
“That makes sense. Once we’re done, I’ll need about twenty minutes to get ready. I have the files prepared.” Maisie sips her coffee and taps the case in the middle of the table. “It’s a laptop bag, so it’s waterproof, since we have to travel by snowmobile.”
“That’s a good idea. It shouldn’t take me long to get ready either. This breakfast is amazing, Miss Mitchell. Thank you! I didn’t expect you to cook on this trip, but I am glad you are.”
“I don’t mind. Cooking has always been something I enjoy. It reminds me of spending time in the kitchen with my mum and Nan. They are some of the happiest memories of my life.” She smiles while she says it, but the gesture is tinged with sadness.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mom. I never met her, but she must have been an amazing person to raise someone like you.”
Maisie’s eyes tear up as she offers me a slight nod. “Yeah. Mum was the best. It wasn’t easy getting pregnant at sixteen, but she always said she wouldn’t have changed a single thing because she got the best kid in the world.” Maisie wipes her eyes with her napkin before taking her plate to the sink. “I’m going to go get ready. I’ll meet you in the living room in twenty.”
I quickly load the dishwasher before heading upstairs myself. I’m back and waiting in the living room when I see Maisie. And burst out laughing. She’s wearing an oversized puffy parka and three layers of pants. Which means she can barely navigate the steps.
“What in the world?” I’m still laughing when she finally makes it to the landing.
Maisie glares at me through the small opening in her clothing, enunciating her words with a vengeance. “ Snow. Is. A. NO.”
“Can you even get on the snowmobile? I think you have a few too many layers. Come here.” I remove a few overcoats and one parka, and I’m left with a much more mobile and visible assistant. “It’s not a far drive. You can squish up behind me. That way, my body will block most of the wind.” I wrap her scarf back around her and tie it in place.
“Fine. Let’s go. I hope the resort has hot chocolate. I’ll need something after the hell that is today.”
Listening to my assistant grumble is one of the most peculiar turn of events. It makes me grin in perverse pleasure, knowing that there is something that can break the eternal sunshine named Maisie Mitchell.
I trudge through the snow to the garage, entering the code to open the door before cranking up the machine. Letting it warm up before pulling it out of the structure. I again enter the code to close the door before returning to the front door to get Maisie.
“Let’s get you on here.” I help her straddle the machine before positioning myself in front of her. “Snug in close to me so I can help block some of the wind.”
I grab her arms and tug them tight around my waist. Maisie presses herself flush against my back, and with the files tucked safely between us, off we go. It takes a half hour to reach the resort. The trails are tightly packed, and the ride is smooth. However, it does not ease Maisie’s anxiety, and she stays pressed up against me the whole ride. She wobbles when we disembark and quickly rushes into the lobby with the giant fireplace. I chuckle and hook the snowmobile to the block warmer before following her inside.
I check us in at the front desk and grab our day passes for the week before helping Maisie shuck off all her outerwear. When she finally looks like herself again, I gape at her deep-burgundy sweater and woolen leggings that encase legs—which, despite her small stature, seem to go on for miles. She has on knee-length black leather boots and appears to be both casual and professional at the same time.
Maisie shakes out her hair before gathering close to the fire once more. “How can people think a place like this is fun? I’m a block of ice!”
I chuckle, and she glares at me. “C’mon. I’ll buy you a hot chocolate, and we can add something stronger if you wish.”
Maisie eagerly follows me to the dining area, and I place her at a table near the grand fireplace. I give our order to one of the servers and sit and watch as Maisie attempts to warm herself up.
“Are you going to make it?”
It’s clear my amusement aggravates her as she continues to narrow her eyes at me. “I’ll be fine. I just have to adjust. I’m not used to this weather and, frankly, I don’t want to be. I want to finish this meeting and return to Australia and Nan.”
The waiter sets the hot chocolate in front of her, and Maisie picks it up, clutching the mug tightly for its warmth.
“Well then, by all means, let’s get you home to your nan.”
I reach for my own mug of coffee, and we sit in companionable silence until a familiar figure enters the room. I stand and meet Marcus in the doorway.
“Mr. McIntyre. I’m so pleased you agreed to meet. Please join us. I hope you won’t be too warm this close to the fire. My companion is finding the cooler temperatures somewhat challenging.” I keep my tone light and my smile wide as I hold out a hand for him to shake.
Marcus McIntyre accepts the gesture before striding over to Maisie, murmuring a greeting while urging her to remain seated. “Of course, I do not mind sitting this close to the fireplace. I wouldn’t want such a lovely woman to be cold. It can take a while to adjust to the temperature differences here if you aren’t used to them. Where are you from, if I may be so bold as to ask?”
I watch Maisie and Marcus chat back and forth about Australia and how Marcus’s family vacations here every year. I’ve seen the same thing with Maisie over the last three months. She’s charm personified. Once they’re in her presence, seeing how anyone can do anything but what she wants is almost impossible. By the time the conversation comes back to me, Marcus is putty in her hands.
“I hate to interrupt, but I don’t want to take any more of your time away from your family than necessary. Shall we discuss the contract?” I set the documentation onto the table and slide it toward Marcus.
“See, Mr. Foster, I like that about you. You respect family time for everyone. I heard stories… how you turned your nose up at the ideals that are the foundation of my company: marriage, family, and commitment to a purpose greater than yourself. That’s the reason I rejected your offer in the first place.” Marcus taps the folder with his index finger.
“Mr. McIntyre, I assure you I value all those things as well. I’m not sure what stories you’ve heard, but they couldn’t be further from the truth!” I’m scrambling, trying to salvage this conversation.
“So, it’s not true that you said you would never get married and have a family because they were an outdated and parochial way to live your life?” Marcus signals the waiter before ordering a Scotch.
“I don’t remember saying those exact words.” I’m stumbling now. “But I can assure you they’re untrue because…”
“He’s engaged to me,” Maisie interrupts, and we both turn to her with our jaws dropped in shock.