Chapter Ten
On the way back to San Francisco, Ransom used the same fallback she had when they’d driven down here yesterday. Christ, was it only yesterday? “Now that I’ve seen one of your care homes,” he said, “I’d like to know how you got started. I know you went to college, got your degree. That you wanted to get into healthcare management for seniors so you could make their last years better. But after that, how did you make it happen?”
Eyes on the road, she shrugged. “I did the same kind of thing as Dane. He worked at a resort, and when the owners wanted out, he bought it. I managed a nursing home after graduation. It wasn’t owned by a corporation, just a single facility, but still, there was always someone who said no, I couldn’t do this or that. But then they wanted to sell, so I bought the place. It was out in Tracy.” Which was a bedroom community half an hour outside the East Bay. “I expanded from there.”
He listened, but all he could see in his mind’s eye was that staggering moment when she’d licked the syrup off her finger. He replayed it over and over as she drove and told him her story.
Was it a sign that she wanted to try again? Or was she showing him what he’d thrown away so carelessly, showing him what he would never have again?
Because damn, how he’d wanted to reach across that booth in the Pancake House, wrap her up in his arms, drag her back to the motel, get one room with a massive bed.
And make love to her all day and long into the night.
He wasn’t sure what she’d do if he pushed it, if he made her admit aloud that she’d deliberately taunted him with that syrup.
That she still wanted him the way he wanted her.
But really, what would that get him? They might come out on the other side with far worse scars. And he did have scars. He hadn’t forgotten her, and there had never been anyone else like her. But losing her had hurt, badly, in a way he’d tried not to think about in years.
And now he sensed this contract between them could become something bigger and last longer than he’d originally planned. If it did, then exactly how did he want her to be in his life? As just a business partner? Or something more?
It had to be something more. Far more.
But she didn’t feel the same way. She hadn’t forgiven him. Maybe she never would.
And he wasn’t willing to make another mistake when he’d only just found her again.
* * *
“After you graduated from university, you were able to go directly into management?”
She nodded as if she were looking at him. “It was just lower-level management at first. Then I worked my way up.”
She couldn’t say why it annoyed her that he’d gone all business. Even though she was supposed to want it to be all business. And yet, between watching him sleep on her office sofa, hearing him take that shower in her en suite, visiting the care home, painting the ladies’ nails, the fun Supermart shopping trip and the night in Motel Y, things just seemed different. Not to mention sharing the pancakes the way they always had. And that sexy little thing she’d done? Yeah, things had definitely changed.
She didn’t want to think about how much they’d changed. Or what that meant.
God, she secretly wished they’d sprinted hand-in-hand from the Pancake House back to Motel Y, paid for another night, and spent the next twenty-four hours in bed.
But damn, she couldn’t think like that, could not allow herself to. She was torn between wanting… and knowing how badly wanting him could turn out for her. As bad as the last time. Maybe even worse. They were still the same two people, just further along in their careers, and she hadn’t seen any indications they’d be better at a relationship.
Suck it up, Ava. Keep it all business, and no more sexy finger-licking moves.
“I wanted to move up quickly.” She allowed herself a laugh. “Maybe too quickly for all the higher-ups. But when my boss retired, I lobbied to take her position. And I got it.”
She could barely hear his soft, “I’m sure you did.”
Was it belief in her? Or was it laced with sarcasm? She decided it was the latter, because that seemed safer. She liked his praise too much, reminding her again of how much she’d wanted to impress her parents and never could. Of how badly she’d wanted to please him, only to find out he regarded her as barely more than a mistress. She shouldn’t need Ransom’s approval, not anymore.
“I wanted to run things my way, without all the constraints put on me by owners who weren’t even on-site. I wanted all my residents to be treated kindly and with respect. It’s the number one thing I’ve instilled in my people.”
“That’s what you always gave my grandmother. Respect and caring. And you treated the other patients with equal kindness.”
All the time she’d worked at that convalescent home where Ransom’s grandmother had lived, she’d dreamed of the day when she could push her coworkers in the right direction, into treating everyone with the respect they deserved.
“I was able to finance buying that first care home, and I worked really hard to make it profitable so I could open another.”
“And another,” he added softly. “Until you opened them all over the country.”
He’d obviously talked to Dane. “Yes. Dane and I have a lot in common in the way we did things.” Her smile grew deeper. “Like I said, we’re sort of in the same business. He pampers people at his resorts, treats them with respect, then I get them thirty or forty years later. And they still receive that same respect.”
“Tell me a bit more about your subsidy program.”
She didn’t mind talking about it now that he knew. “I help those with less money to stay in the better places.” She’d always felt good about that and had started the practice almost right away. “The less expensive facilities are subsidized by the ones that have higher profits, so I can make them all better. And I also take donations to the fund as well. It feels like a win-win for everyone.”
“The empire you’ve created is extraordinary.”
She didn’t doubt the sincerity in his voice. “I wouldn’t call it an empire. Because it’s all about my residents.”
“I know that.”
They sped along the highway, the hazardous spill from yesterday cleared away, the road rolling out before them. It was a perfect time of day, the traffic sparse—at least, as sparse as it could be on Bay Area freeways.
“I’ve fed people my whole life,” Ransom said. “Given them what I thought they wanted in addition to what they asked for. But you’ve gone so many steps beyond that. You actually care deeply for every single person living in one of your communities.” She felt his gaze on her, though she didn’t turn his way. “And I don’t use that term lightly,” he added. “You’ve made your facilities real homes for these people. You know their names. You paint their nails.” His smile came out in his voice.
All she could say was, “Thank you,” because her throat was closing up.
He actually respected her. Not only that, he was pretty much saying that her business was better and more worthwhile than his. That was a huge thing for a billionaire like him to admit to anyone—especially to his long-ago ex.
All those years ago, she thought he’d devalued her dreams. And maybe he had back then. But could he be seeing things differently now? She couldn’t know for sure, but she felt honored that he seemed to admire her so much.
“Dane tells me you also do some mentoring.”
Shocked to know Dane had talked about that, she said, “I’m on the board of a couple of nonprofits that help women get back into the workforce after they’re divorced or they’re single moms. We also provide help for women in recovery from drug problems or escaping domestic violence.” She valued being a role model for these women. “It’s hard working in a man’s world, but I want them to know it can be done.”
For the first time, she wondered if she and Ransom could build a future in which his company and hers were linked in more ways than a short-term contract. There was the potential to use his organization all over the country rather than just the Bay Area. His menus were amazing, especially with the way he’d brought them together in less than twenty-four hours.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that very thing. He seemed to be putting his all into this. But it was still early days, and though she felt herself respecting him more as she saw what he was capable of, he was still a world-famous chef. Once he got things rolling, she could see him saying, “So glad I could help you out, great catering for you, but now I need to return to my fabulous famous chef’s life.”
So really, there was no way she could think long term. They were strictly short term. Just as they’d been the last time he’d flown off to his fabulous famous chef’s life and left her behind.
She had to remember that and not allow herself to get sucked into an illusion.
* * *
Ava had accomplished so much—far more than Ransom had ever imagined she could. Underestimating her had been his mistake.
Silence filled the car the rest of the way back, each of them in their own thoughts. He didn’t mind. It gave him time to think—about her, about their arrangement, about where he wanted all this to go.
If they were to have something together again, he needed to take it slow now, and bide his time. Rushing her would only push her away.
As they drove into the city, he made a decision. “We need to work on the plans more, now that I’ve seen everything. Let’s go to my office. Everything I need is on my computer there. I’ll order some lunch if you’re hungry.”
She laid her hand on her stomach. “Are you kidding? After those pancakes? Thanks, but no, thanks.”
“Good. We can go directly to my office.”
“I’ll drop you off. I need to change first.”
“You look fine just the way you are.” In fact, she looked more beautiful than ever in those sexy wedge tennis shoes, her shoulders bare beneath the flirty spaghetti straps of her sundress.
But he knew better than to say that.
“If it was a Saturday, maybe. And your office was completely empty. But it’s Friday, and people will be working. No,” she insisted. “I’ll change. Do you want me to drop you at your flat or the office?”
He actually liked the idea of walking into work in a Hawaiian shirt and board shorts. And it could be extremely hot to have her all buttoned up in one of her sexy business suits while he was Mr. Casual. “The office would be great. I’ll meet you there as soon as you can make it.”
She drove expertly through the city and dropped him off in front of his building, then roared away in the Pantera, the mirror of his.
And he reflected how they’d mirrored each other in so many ways over the years.
* * *
A part of her had wanted to park and follow Ransom into his office building.
But people would get the wrong idea. Not just that the two of them might be sleeping together, but there were things a man in her executive position could get away with that were completely unacceptable for a woman. She had to dress the part. She was judged on what she wore. She had to be polite at all times. Never allow herself a meltdown. And while Ransom could get away with Hawaiian gear, she needed a business suit, shiny hair, and perfect makeup.
She’d lied to him. Even on a Saturday, she would never have gone into work wearing this outfit. There wasn’t a day she went in when she wasn’t as perfectly presented as possible. Because if anyone saw her like this, the first thing they’d think was, We knew a woman couldn’t do this job properly.
She mentored other women and helped them get back into the workforce through the nonprofits she worked with. She was a role model. She had to make them understand how hard it was working in a man’s world, while at the same time learning that it was doable.
It was like that Taylor Swift song “The Man,” about a woman making her way in a man’s world. You were held to a different standard, expected to act a certain way. And when you didn’t, they tried to cancel you. Ava wouldn’t allow that.
She knew how to handle herself, and she did it by being professional and businesslike. She never yelled. She was never rude. And she held her ground no matter what they threw at her. Just as she had with George Twisselman, that mealy-mouthed president of Consolidated Catering, when he’d tried to whittle down her resolve.
Searching her closet for the perfect outfit, she wanted something that would show her to be the confident businesswoman she was and still wow Ransom all over again. Bending down to pull out a pair of heels, she saw the wedge tennis shoes. The glitter sparkled in the closet’s light. And she wanted them. Bad. Wanted the look in Ransom’s eyes when he watched her walk in them. Slipping her feet into them, she loved the glittery feeling that seemed to surround her when they were on.
Maybe they actually were a power move.
* * *
Seated behind his desk, Ransom’s jaw dropped when she walked in. Though her outfit wasn’t one of the power suits she’d worn the last two days, it was no less powerful, no less seductive, hugging her delicious curves, showcasing her gorgeous legs.
And those damn sexy platform tennis shoes shot his temperature into the stratosphere.
He wanted her. Now.
But he maintained control. “Love the shoes with that suit. Very flashy.”
She smiled. He loved her smile. He loved making her smile.
She lifted her foot. “The glitter has the same jewel tones as my blouse.” Which was a royal blue, the suit a creamy wool that set off her skin.
The shoes and the suit, along with everything else about her, dazzled him, but he couldn’t help saying, “You really didn’t need to change.”
She straightened her suit jacket. “If I’m at the office—even more so if it’s yours—I dress the part.”
She so dressed the part—elegantly, temptingly.
“Does it really matter?” he asked.
Walking to his desk, she said, “I’m an executive in a male-dominated workforce. It absolutely matters.”
“You’re not just any executive. You’re CEO of a billion-dollar company. You’ve obviously earned any man’s respect.”
“You have to admit a woman in my position is judged differently than a man.”
He opened his mouth to say he didn’t judge her. But then he recognized the truth of what she said. He’d seen enough of it in his own field, and he’d tried to be different. “I’ve worked with many female chefs in my time.”
She raised an eyebrow, perfectly arched. “And?”
“I have to admit that many of them feel they need to go above and beyond the men to keep their place in the lineup.”
“And the women I mentor, they need help for that very reason.”
He’d been witness to her heart of gold years ago, and it had been pounded into him all over again during the last couple of days. Ava Harrington didn’t just walk the talk, she was the talk.
Leaning back in his desk chair, he crossed his arms. “But the shoes. They’re not your usual style.” He enjoyed the wedges as much as he’d loved her killer heels.
Striding around his desk, stopping right next to him, she said so softly he had to lean closer to hear, “They’re my little screw you to the man.”
He laughed from deep in his gut. The way Ava had always made him laugh. And the way she’d always made him feel deep down inside.
Rising, he flourished a hand toward the conference table. “I’ve set up the big-screen monitor for us.”
He pulled out a chair for her and, once she was settled, dragged his own close. Her scent surrounded him, something sweet and slightly citrus. Something uniquely Ava. Perhaps a signature scent she’d found since they’d been together? Or maybe that was just her power.
As difficult as it was to concentrate, they went through the staffing requirements, the numbers he’d need to serve, the specific mealtimes.
“My residents like routine,” she told him. “They’re waiting right outside the dining room when the doors open.”
“You don’t have a lot of people at each site.” Anywhere from one hundred to one-fifty.
She smiled, her lipstick glistening, beckoning. “I don’t run massive facilities as if they were factories. I want my homes to feel more like a community. Which is what we need to talk about. I told you about the Sunday brunches. The main course rotates in that four-week cycle I mentioned—pork tenderloin, roast turkey, baked ham, roast beef. It reminds everyone of the Sunday roast their moms used to serve. We make each of the holiday brunches special, too, with decorations on the tables and themed desserts. Every month, we host a birthday dinner for residents with birthdays in that month, and they get a choice of filet mignon or lobster.”
He was taken aback. “Whoa. That’s amazing.”
“My residents deserve it.” That was her theme in everything she did.
“We also need to deliver meals to those who can’t get to the dining room. I don’t believe I mentioned that before. Either they’re ill or more infirm, or just don’t like to socialize. There’s a separate dining room in assisted living as well as memory care and the hospital wing. The food doesn’t need to be different, though. Just the delivery.”
“You really know what you’re doing.”
She took the praise with a smile. “It’s taken years.”
He found himself equally concerned about giving her residents the best experience possible. He admired how she’d thought through all their needs, as well as providing variations they could enjoy, like the special dinners and brunches.
“I like to make each community feel cozy, like being at home rather than just institutional. We have events on Friday afternoons where we provide appetizers and wine just before dinner.” She paused, breathed in. “I’m throwing a lot at you. I don’t expect that you’ll be able to accommodate all of this right away. I know it’ll take time.”
“This is why we’re sitting down. We didn’t talk about much more than the basics the other day. Now I’m glad to know the full scope. And yes, we can accommodate it all.” He would give her people the best care they’d ever known.
And he’d make sure he gave it to her too.
* * *
“What do you do for holidays?” Ransom sat back in his chair, rolling a pencil between his fingers. He’d been taking notes all along.
“Like I said, we have decorations and themed desserts for brunch on Christmas, New Year’s, Thanksgiving, and Easter. We serve a roast like we do for Sunday brunches.”
“What about July Fourth or Memorial Day or Labor Day?”
She tipped her head. “We decorate the tables, put up flags, banners, that kind of thing.”
“But what about a special menu?”
Her whole body felt as though it glittered as brightly as her shoes. “What are you thinking?”
He shrugged. “Something like bringing out a big barbecue in that quad between the auditorium and dining hall. Say we roast hot dogs and hamburgers and ribs on Memorial Day and July Fourth. Corned beef and cabbage and green beer for St. Patrick’s Day.”
“You think big.”
“Of course. I’m a chef. That’s what I do.”
He thought outside the box. “I love it. Let’s do it. Special menus for all the holidays. They’ll love the barbecue atmosphere.” She laughed. “And green beer.”
“We’ll set up tables outside on the lawns. You could even have games.”
“Perfect.”
“How about a themed dinner once a month? Like a Caribbean night. An Oktoberfest night. Things like that.”
She couldn’t disguise her awe. “You’re brilliant. I could even bring in a polka band for Oktoberfest. And a steel-drum band for Caribbean night.”
They riffed off each other. “How about a mariachi band for a Mexican night? With lots of margaritas.”
“And along with the green beer, Irish dancers for St. Patrick’s Day.”
Why had she never thought of things like this before?
He seemed to read her mind. “You always had so many other things on your mind. And you provide a great experience.”
“But this will make it so much better. You’re an absolute genius.”
She meant it. He’d always been first in his field, and he was creative in ways she’d never imagined.
But he’d always been most creative in their bed.