North Dakota Weddings (49 page)

Jack touched her hand, tugging her from her thoughts. “This is even more impressive than I imagined.”

Did he know the part she’d played in its creation? She allowed a smile. “Isn’t it?”
And thank you
.

“That is, up close and personal.” He stared at her, his eyes brooding.

Was he still referring to the fountain? Jack didn’t seem to be the sort of man to get tangled up in sexual harassment.

A knot swelled at the back of her throat. She reminded herself that handsome men did nothing for her. But there was something about Jack. He was…like her.

They had a connection, something in common. Rayne shook the thoughts away before they planted seeds. The music, the fountain, and the dim lighting had all worked to bring her emotions to the surface.

“Well, I need to get home.” She headed over to the controls to begin switching them off. “The plumbing in this room was quite a feat, as you can imagine.”

Jack flipped a switch, flooding the large room with light. Thankfully, the bright lighting changed the unbidden romantic atmosphere.

Jack squinted at the lights and glanced around the large watertight room. Must have cost some bucks. He’d definitely want to explore, but later. Rayne pulled a lever, and the fountain pumps slowly lost momentum, the water spurting until it stopped.

Her shirt was crisp and white, reminding him of their collision earlier in the day. “I see you had an opportunity to change your shirt.” He winced and pushed a hand over his idiotic mouth.
Great conversation, man
.

“I told you I planned to go home and change at lunch,” she said with a quick glance and partial grin while she focused on shutting off the rest of the fountain.

“According to your file, you were the chief designer of this water feature. It’s amazing.”

Though her mouth remained neutral, the smile behind her eyes told him she was pleased at his compliment. “We work as a team around here. I can’t take all the credit.”

“You’re right. But although teamwork is important, there has to be a creative lead. You’re it.”

When she didn’t respond but instead turned her attention to clicking keys on the computer, shutting down the driving software, he chuckled and looked down at the floor, feeling heat in his neck. He wanted to give credit where credit was due, encourage an employee who needed it, but this felt more like…
No!

He was
not
flirting. Jack studied her. Rayne Flemming wasn’t a striking beauty. Her nose was too rounded and her cheeks were a little pudgy. Her hair was a drab brown, and she wore it simple and shoulder length, rather than styled in the latest fashion—things he never would have noticed except that he had once been engaged to the queen of fashion.

To Kiera, there was nothing more important than the newest hairstyle or the latest fashion trend. All her energy had been put into her appearance, leaving nothing on the inside. Like an empty box that was beautifully wrapped, once the package was opened you were disappointed. The gift had been a facade. It wasn’t real.

Then there was Rayne. She had that farm girl natural look. There was something about her, though, in her eyes that whispered to a place deep inside him, stirring him. Whatever “it” was might as well have been spoken in Ukrainian for all he understood about why it touched him so. But he suspected it had everything to do with what was on the inside of her—something real, something of value.

A treasure beyond price.

Enough!

Before he realized it, Rayne was striding past him. “Are you leaving or staying?”

He stared, lost in thought.

“Do you want me to flip the light off now, or are you staying?”

Right. Ukrainian. Finally, he snapped out of it and understood her question. “I’m leaving, too. Uh, wait. No, I’m staying.” He scratched his head.

Rayne laughed softly then left his sight. From where he remained, he heard the door swoosh open, then shut, signaling her departure. He exhaled slowly.

There were at least six more members of the design team whose files he had yet to preview. He had a feeling, though, that none of them were in the same league with Rayne Flemming. And the more he thought about it, the more he worried that he wasn’t in her league either. She would definitely be one to challenge and sharpen him.

As he strolled around the room and examined the pumping mechanisms and nozzles, comparing them to the design he’d been developing on his own in the evenings, he couldn’t shut down the niggling. Could he stay focused on the task and succeed at making his dreams for FountainTech and his life come true while working with Rayne?

Why did she distract him so?

T
hat evening Rayne trudged up the steps of her second-floor apartment. For the weeks before the holidays, after Harold had mentioned a promotion to her, Rayne had driven around different neighborhoods, considering what sort of house she might like to buy, eventually. Although first, she just planned to move into a larger apartment with a garage for her car.

But a house did not a home make, or at least that’s what her mother always told her. She unlocked the door to her apartment and kicked it shut behind her, then turned on the lights. Looking around her lonely apartment, she agreed that her mother had a point. Shedding her coat, she tugged her cell from the pocket.

Her mother had called earlier in the day, but Rayne hadn’t recovered from the blow of not getting the promotion and wasn’t in the right frame of mind to return the call. Though her mood hadn’t improved, Rayne nevertheless called her mother, knowing she’d have to explain if she didn’t. The phone rang several times. As she waited for her mother to answer, she thought of the tinny sound the old rotary-dial phone made when she would call someone from her parents’ phone.

“Hello?” her mother answered.

“Mom, hi. Sorry, I didn’t have the chance to call you back earlier.” Rayne forced enthusiasm into her voice. Maybe the action would bring her heart around.

“You had a busy day, then. That’s all I wanted to know. How was your first day back at work?” Pots and pans clanked in the background. Rayne pictured the phone cord stretching all over the kitchen as her mother worked and talked on the phone.

Closing her eyes, Rayne could imagine herself at home. “What are you making?”

“Pork roast. Mashed potatoes, that corn I canned last summer.”

Rayne drew in a breath of stale air and tried to imagine the aroma of a home-cooked meal. “Sounds good.”

“You could enjoy this if you were here.”

Mom, please don’t. Not now
. “The first day back at work after a break is always a hard one. I’m tired. I need to go.”

“Hold on.”

Rayne could detect the faint sound of water boiling as a lid was lifted.

“I’ve got to pour the water off the potatoes now. Before you go, I wanted to give you some news.”

“What’s that?” Rayne opened her refrigerator. Was there anything edible inside?

“Turns out that Paul has some business in Fargo this week.”

“Hmm.” A tub of burnt orange Tupperware stared back at her. Mom had sent fried chicken with Rayne. She’d forgotten.

“He might stop by to see you.”

Rayne pursed her lips, relieved her mother couldn’t see, though she wasn’t sure why it mattered. “Okay, thanks for telling me.” Grabbing the chicken and a Coke, she shut the door with her elbow. “I’ll call you this weekend.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Before she could take a bite of a drumstick, someone knocked on her door. With a look through the peephole, relief swept over her. She imagined Paul standing outside her door. She opened it with a smile. “Hey Theresa, come in.”

Her petite brunette neighbor stepped inside and shut the door, tugging off her red mittens and navy wool coat. “It’s cold out there.”

“Welcome to North Dakota.” Rayne took a bite of her chicken.

Theresa rubbed her hands together. “I wish these apartments had fireplaces.”

“You can get one.”

“Yeah, for more money.” Theresa smiled and sat on the edge of the sofa.

“Well, I do have this.” Rayne turned on the television and the DVD player. The cozy image of a fire roaring in a fireplace filled the screen.

Theresa laughed. “Gotta love technology.” She turned her attention to Rayne. “So, any news yet?”

Rayne washed down the chicken with her Coke. She shook her head, knowing what Theresa was asking. The girl next door was the only person she’d shared her hopes with.

“They brought in someone outside of the company for that position.”

“Oh Rayne. I’m so sorry.”

“I think I’m going to live. Want some fried chicken?”

Theresa nodded. “Sounds good.”

After offering Theresa the Tupperware filled with chicken, Rayne took another bite of her drumstick, savoring her mother’s cooking—something she definitely missed here. Together she and Theresa ate dinner while they watched a game show. But Rayne couldn’t push Jack’s face from her mind. He’d seemed to touch a chord somewhere inside her.

She didn’t dare harbor an emotional connection with her boss. What was the matter with her?

Jack shuffled through Simon’s conceptual drawings as the guy explained his ideas about the structure and sculpture of water. It had taken Jack more time than he’d expected to meet with his team members individually, getting to know them like he planned, and he hadn’t finished yet. Interruptions, phone calls, and meetings made each workday speed by before he could accomplish his goals.

Now, two weeks later, he was finally concluding one of the last of the private conversations. Understanding each person’s gifts, goals, and dreams would go a long way in helping him mold his team together. He’d dug deep into their lives, into their creative sides, and after assessing their strengths and weaknesses, he tried to fuel their imaginations. But he could feel the effort draining him.

“What do you think?” Simon asked.

“Now all we have to do is put our brilliant heads together on this next project.”

“I mean, what do you really think about my ideas?” Simon gave him a pointed stare.

Meeting the look, Jack smiled inside, recognizing some of himself in Simon. “I think these are excellent.”

“But where do I fit in to our team as a whole?”

“What are you asking me?” Simon was fishing. Might as well get to the point.

“I want to be creative lead.”

“Ah.” Jack leaned back, contemplating. “Let me give it some thought.”

Simon frowned and sat forward in his seat. “Look, my stuff is better than Rayne’s. Just give me a chance.”

Jack hated hearing the pain and desperation in Simon’s voice. The guy had a lot to learn. Never appear desperate. Maybe someday he’d give him that tip.

“Look, Simon, everyone’s gifts are different. One gift is as important as another’s.”
And some people’s gifts are inspiring beyond words
. “That’s why I’m here, so I can fit the talents together—like pieces of a puzzle—to create a beautiful picture, or in this case, fountain.”

Simon blew out a breath. “Okay. If you say so.”

Jack stood to escort Simon to the door, needing a cup of coffee. He squeezed Simon’s shoulder. “Your day will come; don’t worry.” He winked.

Simon nodded, disappointment on his face as he left Jack’s office. Rayne stood in the hall and greeted Simon when he passed. Jack wondered how she would react if she knew Simon had just tried to outmaneuver her. The moves were only good when there was talent to back them up.

Rayne leaned against the wall, waiting. “Are you ready? Or should I come back later?”

He hated that his throat grew taut when she was near. “Have a seat while I grab another cup of coffee. Do you want one?”

“No thank you. I’m good.” Entering his office, she strolled past him, leaving a light floral scent in her wake. The room tilted, if only a smidge. She would sink him if he let her.

As he moved down the hall to the kitchen, he considered all the people he’d met with this morning, desperately wishing that someone else could be lead creator, but then again, could he do that to Rayne after already telling her she had the position?

After filling his cup, he headed back to his office. He’d struggled to sleep the last couple of weeks, his mind warning him to steer clear of her. In this morning’s meetings, he’d tried hard to inspire the artists he’d met with, pouring his heart and soul into them, but in doing so, he was afraid he left himself open and vulnerable—not a good place to be when Rayne Flemming stepped into his office. At the very least, he should have met with her first, when he was fresh and on top of his game.