Strictly Business (3 page)

The rest of the drive passed with small talk. She commented
on the gorgeous scenery, and he told her a few of the plants’ and trees’ names.
She also asked him to please call her Jess as opposed to ‘ma’am’. She knew it
was polite, but it made her feel old.

When George mentioned they were on Morgenstern property Jess
perked up, making sure to note some of the landscaping. She knew it was all
natural, not planted, but she wanted to make sure to consider it when designing
the home. As they pulled up to what was currently the main house she noticed
that while it was dated, it was well cared for. It had probably been painted
just last year. It was a white wood frame farm house, with dark green trim.
Someone had planted flowers in a small planter in the front yard. There were
more flowers in pots next to the swing on the back porch.
A swing!
It
was perfect. Why would anyone want to replace this perfect home? Not that she
didn’t appreciate getting the job, but this house so suited the ranch that it
would tear her heart out to rip it down. Maybe the owner didn’t like it? She’d
heard the son had taken over for the father about four years ago. Maybe he
liked the newer, sleeker look. It was all Jess could do not to cringe at the
thought. Putting some ultra-modern, trendy house in this perfect landscape
would be horrible. But the client was always right.

George parked the truck in front of the house, grabbing her
bag out of the back seat for her. She slid out of the truck and pulled the
handle of her rolling suitcase. “Thanks, George. I appreciate the ride. Can you
please tell me where I should go to meet with Mr. Morgenstern?” She had a few
hours to get a feel for the place and her new client, before she went to her
hotel this evening.
Oh, I need to ask about car rental as well.

“Yeah, I’ll take you into the house. Marsha’ll find the boss
for you.”

Jess followed him up the front steps and into the house. The
entry opened up into a small, but quaint living room. Most of the furniture was
modern, although not what she would have thought a bachelor would’ve chosen.
There was definitely a female touch involved here. Was this the owner’s taste?
Mostly, it looked like there had been a cohesive sense of style at one point,
and now it was just whatever was left. Mmmmm, she might need to call Cindy in
on this, when they got that far. She always did well helping a client find
their style.

George led her past the dining room, same mishmash style,
and into a kitchen that could only be described as antique. It was clean and
sunny, with bright yellow paint and white cabinets, but it was definitely
outdated.

“Marsha, the, uh, architect is here. Marsha, this is Jess
Wythe. Ms. Wythe, our housekeeper, Marsha.”

Marsha turned around, wiping her hands on her apron. She had
been rolling dough, and had flour on her nose and forehead. She was exactly
what you would expect from a ranch housekeeper. Almost a cliché, really. Except
for the look on her face. Which was shock, followed by cheeky humor. “Well,
Ms.
Wythe. It’s certainly nice to meet you. I’ll just take you back in to meet
Jake. Thanks, George. Come on now, just follow me.”

Jess was confused again by her reception. Everyone seemed
very friendly, but somewhat amused by meeting her. Since there still seemed to
be nothing amiss with her clothing, Jess thought it must be because she was a
woman. Jess knew her name threw people, that’s why she usually introduced
herself as Jessica, as well as why she had Jessica on all her business cards.
Only close friends called her Jess. And her boss, Mr. Brundel. But, to be so
amused by it, well that was making her a bit nervous.

“Umm, excuse me, Marsha, would you mind terribly if I just
freshened up a bit before I meet with Mr. Morgenstern?”

“Oh, my goodness child, I should’ve thought of that, I just
so wanted to see the look on his face! Oh, come on down here, there’s a powder room
right over there.” She bustled backwards past Jess, and opened a door just off
the hall. “Go on, I’ll just scoot down the hall and let Jake know you’re here.
I’ll be right back.”

Jess brought her smaller bag with her into the restroom,
leaving the suitcase in the hall. Marsha’s comment about wanting to see Jake’s
reaction had done nothing to calm her nerves. She took a few minutes to freshen
her makeup, putting on the light peach lip gloss to help hide the natural red
of her mouth, tightened and re-pinned her bun and did her best to straighten
out her suit and smooth out any wrinkles.

When she felt she had her game face on, she headed back out
into the hall to go meet the client. He’d obviously been expecting a man, but
he requested the best, and she was that. Regardless of her gender.

Marsha had waited for her, and now led her down the hall to
what was obviously an office. Or a master bedroom, judging by the very large
mahogany double doors.

“Jake, boy, the architect is here.”

* * * * *

Jake looked up from his computer and saw Marsha standing
next to a very petite, somewhat frumpy woman in a drab, horrid gray suit. Her
hair was in a severe roll of some sort, although it appeared to be an
attractive color, not quite black. She was fair skinned, with very attractive
features. Sharp chin, high cheekbones and huge brown eyes. She was not overtly
pretty, and yet he found himself somewhat drawn to her. He looked behind her,
expecting to see her boss standing there.

With a muffled chuckle, Marsha introduced the woman. “Jake,
this is
Ms
. Jess Wythe.” With that, Marsha backed out of the room.

Jake stared at the woman, taking in the entire package and
trying to reconcile it now that he knew she was the architect. When he finally
got back to her eyes, he noticed that she was busy taking his measure as well.

After a rather uncomfortable pause, she finally spoke. “Hi,
Mr. Morgenstern, I’m Jessica Wythe. I’m under the impression, that you were not
expecting…well, me. Rather, you were expecting a gentleman. I’m terribly sorry
about the confusion. Mr. Brundel has always called me Jess. Apparently it’s his
granddaughter’s name.” With this she was standing in front of his desk, holding
her hand out for him to shake.

Her voice was like warm brandy. It seemed terribly out of place
coming from the dowdy woman standing before him. It was the voice of a siren.
And, as if she was a siren, he suddenly found himself impossibly drawn to her.
This wasn’t going to work. He needed another architect.

She stood there, obviously waiting for him to shake her
hand. When he finally reached out, gripping her hand in his, he found her grip
to be firm, her skin soft. Just as he felt the jolt of electricity, she pulled
her hand back as if she'd been burned. “Ms. Wythe, I’m sorry about the confusion,
but I don’t think this is going to work out.”

“I’m sorry,
what’s
not going to work out?”

“You, as my architect. I’ll call Mr. Brundel and explain the
situation. Explain that this is in no way your fault, but I need him to send me
another architect.” Jake had no idea why, but for some reason he felt that
having her here was dangerous. It was probably just because he didn’t handle
surprises well.

“Excuse me. Am I to understand that you are…firing me?
Because I’m not a man?”

Her words dripped with sarcasm. He almost smiled at the
first sign of fire from the bland Ms. Wythe. This little spark seemed more in
keeping with the voice than the clothes. “No, not really. Well yeah, actually.
This ranch has almost exclusively men living here. The only woman who will reside
in the main house is Marsha, and I’ve already given her complete control within
the kitchen. However, the rest of the house will be essentially mine. And I
would like someone to design it that understands me.”

“You have no idea what I understand or don’t understand.”
Her voice rose as she continued, “You have yet to even speak to me, let alone
get to know me or see any of my designs. And as for what I understand, let me
tell you. I understand that you have not redecorated this house in well over
ten years, probably longer. The original decoration reflects, I would hazard to
guess, your mother’s taste and has since become some random collection of
whatever was lying around. I also understand that the only room in the house,
or at least the bottom floor, that in any way reflects your personal choices,
is this room. I would bet that this is not only your office, but your haven.
And I also understand that you are a chauvinist pig. And, if you call Mr.
Brundel and request a new architect, I will personally pay him his commission
percentage of this job’s estimate to refuse your request and refuse to send
anyone else out here!”

She was standing opposite him, leaning in with her hands on
the desk. Since he had assumed the same position on the other side, they were
almost nose to nose. And she was yelling at him. In his office, in his home.
She was yelling at him and calling him names. He was irate! And she was
gorgeous. Somehow, warm brown eyes were shooting fire while she was yelling.
And the anger seemed to break that icy, boring package. He was not at all sure
whether he wanted to kill her or kiss her. A strange blend of urges, especially
for him. He opted for yelling right back.

“Ms. Wythe, I don’t know how you treat your clients, but I
can assure you that screaming at me will in no way help you keep this job! I do
not tolerate people yelling at me! Do you understand?”

He watched as shock and horror registered on her face. She
took a breath, schooling her face back into the calm, boring mask. If he looked
closely, he could still see the anger simmering underneath, but it was barely
perceptible.

“Mr. Morgenstern,” now her voice dripped icicles as she
spoke, “I am going to need a ride back to the airport. There is not a
snowball’s chance in hell that I would take this job. Which is your loss, by
the way. You asked for the best, and I’m the best. Oh, and good luck finding
any other architect who can pull off the house you want in under five months.
I’ll show myself out, thanks.” She turned on her heel and walked toward the
door.

Jake dropped his head, made a fist and punched his desk.
Damn! She was right. He did not have time to look for and find another
architect. And he’d done some research on J. Wythe. She was really good.
Really,
really
good. But nothing ever mentioned that she was a
she
. As her
hand reached the knob, he yelled out, “Wait.”

She stopped at the door. He saw her take another deep breath
before she turned to face him, hands folded in front of her. Very prim and
proper. “Yes?”

“You’re right.” He forced it out. He did not apologize often
or well. “I was surprised, and I don’t like surprises. I’m still uncomfortable
with a woman designing my house. However, I have done my research, and I’m
pleased with the work I’ve seen from you. Therefore, would you please stay?”

He knew he still sounded angry, but he was trying, damn it.
After a long pause, she cocked her head to one side, placed her hand on her hip
and answered, “Fine. I’ll take the job. And you will be thrilled with the
result.”

Jess might possibly
hate
this man. He had to be the
most arrogant, stubborn ass she had ever met. And since she worked with plenty
of men that could fit that description, that was saying something. However,
since she was already getting design ideas in her head, she actually
wanted
to
take this job. Even if it meant playing nice with him. Which could potentially
border on the impossible.

Another deep breath before she attempted to speak again.

“So, since this has taken much longer to work out than I had
planned, I would like to go see more of the property this afternoon. You and I
can go over your requirements and details tomorrow, and then I’ll start on the
design. I’ll bring you a few different styles and we can go from there. Will
that work for you?”

“Yes, that will be fine."

He was still growling at her, but she pretended not to
notice. “Good, then can I just wander around for a couple hours before I go to
the hotel? Are there any areas I shouldn’t go? And would it be possible for
someone to take me out to the actual home site you’re looking at? Or are you
planning to level this house and build here?”

“Whoa, wait a minute. What hotel?”

“My hotel in Evanston, of course. I booked a room yesterday
before I came here. Why, is there a hotel closer than that? Oh, and I need a
rental car place as well. I’m sure they have one at the airport, but if there’s
one closer I would appreciate it.”

“Absolutely not.” He was shouting again. “You’re staying
here.”

He had just issued her an order, not an invitation. “Mr.
Morgenstern, I would not feel appropriate staying in your home. The commute is
not a problem, I’ll stay in Evanston.”

“No, Ms. Wythe, if you want this job you will stay here. I’m
afraid I must insist on it. This is going to be very difficult timing wise, I
am aware, and I will not have you commuting from Evanston for five months.”

“Five months? Are you serious? I’m not going to be here for
five months! I’m here for a week or two and then I’ll come back periodically to
check on things. I'm an architect, not a site supervisor.”

Instead of answering, he reached over, picked up his phone
and dialed. “Mr. Brundel, please.”

Jess was furious. At this point she was just shy of ripping
her hair out or stomping her feet.

“Mr. Brundel, I have Jess Wythe here with me. I have a
request, and she said I needed to run it by you first. Because of the tight
schedule we will have on my house, along with my crazy schedule around the
ranch here, I would like Ms. Wythe to stay in this area and supervise the
build. From start to finish. I realize this will take away your top talent for
many months, but it is extremely important to me. I would be happy to pay any
additional costs you feel necessary for this service.” His voice was calm,
cajoling. It was also the voice of a man who was used to getting what he
wanted.