Chapter 3
chapter three
Charlotte
I’m a woman in the service industry and I am no stranger to flirtatious men.
That doesn’t make it any less annoying, though.
Caleb Alden is tall enough, muscular enough, and has a head of brown hair that’s just long and shaggy enough to make him the ideal handsome man.
But I seriously could not care any less about his handsomeness or his flirtatious banter.
My career has only just gotten started, and I’m on track to turn myself into someone important in the event planning space.
I’m working toward a good salary, my own mortgage payment, and a retirement fund.
I will not live my adulthood working crappy jobs paycheck to paycheck like my parents did.
I love them, but I won’t be them. This guy is no stranger to flirting with women, clearly, and he knows he’s handsome.
I don’t know what kind of validation he’s hoping to get from me, but it’s not happening.
I’m here for the job, nothing else. Hopefully this job’s biggest donor won’t throw a wrench into anything.
WLB Construction is owned by my ex’s dad, not my ex. He won’t have anything to do with this. I stiffen my shoulders and tell myself it’ll all be fine.
“Let’s see the event space.”
Caleb leads me back through the building and I make a hasty sketch in my notepad of the layout of this place.
It’s a large old farm turned business and nonprofit and the whole area kind of looks like it’s having an identity crisis.
There’s a lot of acreage here, with a long winding gravel driveway from the road.
The three story old Victorian home to the right of the property is gorgeous and has been beautifully maintained.
Then there’s the massive barn to the left.
It has that beautiful, classic barn shape that makes you think it should be painted red, but it’s made of dark brown stained wood, or maybe it’s just really old, I can’t tell.
Then there’s a more modern building that’s between the two, but closer to the barn.
Fresh concrete sidewalks tell me it was probably built in the last year or two.
“How long has this place been open?”
“Almost a year,” Caleb says. “The foundation was created three months ago. I wanted to have the gala on the exact one year anniversary but that’s a Monday, and my brothers said no one will go to an event on a Monday.
This is our first big fundraising event, and it’s my full time job that’s not paying me a salary yet. I need this to be successful.”
“What’d you do before this?” I ask. I don’t know why I ask, maybe I’m just trying to get a feel for how serious this guy is about his fledgling new nonprofit. I’ve planned events for nonprofits before but they’ve all been huge organizations that run like well-oiled machines.
“I was a police K9 handler. SWAT certified.” That last bit seems to be thrown in to impress me with the way he flexes his forearms and rolls his shoulders back. It is impressive, but I don't care. I’ll choose a badass career over men every single time.
“So you know what you’re talking about when it comes to dogs.” It’s not really a question but he answers.
“Yes, ma’am.” We’ve reached the massive barn doors and he pushes it open. “Tah-dah! Here’s our event space.”
I stand on the dirt, gripping my clipboard between my folded arms, and take in the place. It’s a freaking barn. An old freaking barn. An old, dirty, abandoned-looking freaking barn.
The sound that escapes my mouth is something like a groan and a gasp of horror. “Okay,” I say. I take a deep breath and try again. “Okay… Well, there’s plenty of natural light…streaming in through the broken boards. And high ceilings…with cobwebs. And…empty room.”
My heels click softly against the hay-scattered wooden floor.
At least it has a floor, though, underneath all this hay that can be cleaned up.
I glance around, studying the space and trying so hard to imagine it as a fundraising gala.
Right now it looks like it’s on a list of old buildings to be torn down. “This needs work.”
"Work like what?" Caleb asks, crossing those muscular SWAT certified forearms. “It’s got plenty of space. Two hundred people could fit in here easily, and like you said—good lighting…”
I shoot him a look. “Good lighting doesn’t cover up the ugly old barn-ness of it.”
“Hey now, it’s not ugly.” He glances around, brows furrowed as if he’s seeing this place for the first time when he’s likely known it his entire life. “Okay. Well. You wanted a theme, right? What if we make the theme rustic…and antique…and old…”
“And ugly?” I say with a smirk. “Those are all wonderful, money-making gala themes. Great job. Rich people love opening their wallets inside ugly places.”
His forehead creases. “What does it cost to have one of those big outdoor tent things set up? We could have the gala in there instead.”
I shake my head, pulling on my years of event planning expertise and mentally hyping myself up.
Why did Jenny give this job to me? Does she hate me?
“We’re going to use this barn. And I’ll make it beautiful.
Drapes in the doorways, proper seating, decorations in the right locations…
it’ll be rustic but it’ll be nice. I’ll figure this out. ”
“You sure?” he asks. Suddenly his over-confident demeanor has a little glitch in it.
“I really need this to go well. This isn’t some lazy excuse of a nonprofit.
This is my whole career now. I’m going to make something of this and save as many retired working dogs as possible.
I won’t fail. That’s why I hired a professional company. I need you.”
“Wow.” I swallow. “That felt genuine.”
“Of course it’s genuine,” he says, giving me the first serious look I’ve seen on him. “Rex was almost euthanized twice. I saved him, and he won’t be the last dog saved here. All we need is funding.”
“Why was he almost euthanized?” I ask. “Because he’s freaking terrifying?”
Caleb’s smile turns into a smirk. “Come with me.”
I take a step back. “I don’t want to see that scary dog.”
“Aww, come on. He’s in a kennel. He can’t hurt you.”
I shake my head. “No thanks.”
“How can you thoroughly plan an event if you don’t even know who you’re helping to raise money for?”
“You can’t psych me out like that,” I say, gripping my clipboard tighter. “I don’t like dogs.”
His hand grips his chest. “Oh my gosh, that’s painful to hear. A beautiful woman who doesn’t like dogs? It can’t be possible.”
I roll my eyes. “I have a massive event to plan and you’re wasting my time.”
“Tell you what,” he says, pushing the barn door back open after it had slowly rolled closed in the last few minutes. “Come meet Rex so he can apologize for almost running you over, and I’ll keep all dogs away from you from then on.”
“I have a better idea,” I say, wondering why I am even trying to bargain when I am straight up freaking terrified of all dogs of all sizes, but especially giant huge former police dogs like the one who almost attacked me earlier.
I should race back to work and tell Jenny to get someone else to do this job or cancel it entirely.
I rub the jagged scar on my wrist—the ugly reminder of how vicious dogs can be.
“I’ll go see Rex, but then you have to stop flirting with me. ”
“Ooh, Charlotte, that’s asking a lot of me,” he says with an annoying little smirk that probably makes women fall over him constantly, “but I can respect professional boundaries. Sure. No problem. You got it. No more flirting.”
“You don’t sound too confident in that,” I say. And, dammit, I’m grinning. WHY am I grinning? If it were three years ago, I’d no doubt be tripping over this man, too. But I’m older now. Wiser. I know better than to trip over any man.
His lip curls under his teeth, like he wants to say something. A beat passes. Then he blinks and the feeling is gone. “Let’s go see the dog.”