But Not For Me

“Great,” he said, immediately standing. “You want to ride with me?”

She moved more slowly and with a great deal more grace. “It would be more efficient if I followed you, wouldn’t it?”

Already thinking ahead, he thought, barely able to control the grin that kept threatening to break out. “Sure. Whatever you want.” He left a tip on the table, stopped and paid for their coffee and escorted her outside. “Where’s your car?”

She pointed to a small economy car that looked well used and equally well cared for.

“I’m over here,” he said, pointing to his beat-up truck with its faded red finish that blended well with the rust. After escorting her to her car, he strode to his truck and got in. He waited until she pulled out before he moved into traffic.

Brad was excited about being able to show off his office to someone. He’d been working out of his small apartment so long that he could barely find his way through the place, what with all the papers, files and other business-related products scattered around.

He drove to an older part of town and pulled into the parking lot of a red-brick building from the 1930s. Someday he’d have his own building or a large suite of offices in a prestigious office complex.

Brad stood by his truck and waited for Ms. Wood to pull into the space next to him. Three parking spaces were marked with signs saying Reserved for Phillips Construction Company.

Here was physical proof that he had moved up in the business world. With Ms. Wood’s help, there would be no stopping the company’s growth.

Of course, the future wasn’t reflected in his account ledgers just yet, but he knew the money would be there in the next few years.

They took the elevator to the third floor without speaking. The office was on the top floor, with a nice view of downtown Dallas.

He walked to the end of the hall and unlocked the door with a frosted-glass window. With a slight bow, he stepped back and waved her through the open doorway.

She stepped into the newly renovated space and stopped. “Oh, my. I wasn’t expecting anything quite this large.”

He shrugged. “Well, I figured that since I’m going to be here for a while I’d take the space while it was available. Besides, there will be offices for my site supervisors—when I get them—and I’ll need an office, as will you. Eventually there needs to be a place for a receptionist—”

She turned and faced him with raised brows. “I thought I was going to be your receptionist?”

He nodded. “Sure, at first. But the way I see it, some day you’ll be my administrative assistant with a secretary of your own. That is, if you want to invest your time and energy into making all of this work.”

She walked to one of the windows and looked out. The two men he’d pulled off his crew to finish the place had left everything where they’d been working at quitting time, thinking no one would see the mess. Brad was so used to the clutter of renovation that he’d been oblivious to the mess until now. Seeing the place through her eyes, he could understand that she might not be quite as impressed as he’d hoped.

When she turned away from the window, she looked around at the large open space, her brows raised slightly. “Are you sure this will be finished by Monday? That’s less than a week away.”

“No problem. We’ll finish a few rooms now and leave the rest of the area for storage. Since none of my clients ever see my office, there’s no reason to get fancy.”

She nodded thoughtfully as she continued to inspect the space.

He waited, not wanting to push her. He’d given her the best pitch he could. The decision was hers. He wished there was some way he could show her his vision for the company. There were no guarantees, of course, but he knew that hard work could produce amazing results.

Brad watched while she stepped over and around the clutter and studied the layout from a drawing pinned to one of the walls. Without turning, she asked, “I’m presuming that you’ll have furniture?”

He laughed. “It’ll be delivered Monday. It’s used but in good shape.”

She continued to prowl until she’d seen everything. Rachel walked to where he stood and asked, “What time do you want me here on Monday?”

He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the company was on its way.

Since then they’d been a team. They had worked together smoothly and efficiently for eight years. He had a hunch that was due more to her diplomacy than to his communication skills. Once he got to know her, Brad discovered Rachel to be as conservative and well-bred as she had appeared to be at the interview. She had a strong work ethic, which he appreciated.

Rachel worked every day for years, through blistering heat waves, drenching downpours, occasional winter sleet storms and once when she’d had the flu.

So where was she today?

Brad didn’t want to contemplate what would happen if Rachel weren’t there to help him run the company. She’d taken on the administrative side of things, leaving him free to do what he did best, build commercial projects.

Within three years, they’d hired more people, including Janelle. Before long, Accounting needed a leader—so he’d hired Arthur. Eventually Rich Harmon took the helm as office manager.

Rachel continued to amaze him. She accompanied him to business dinners with potential clients. She rarely spoke, and if the visitors thought she was there as arm candy, their assumption gave him an advantage. Rachel had a gift—she was a wizard at interpreting expressions, body language and what was implied but not said.

Later, she gave him her impressions of the people and how best to provide what they wanted. Together they would work out proposals with the added data she’d provided. Within a couple of years, Rachel had become more of a partner in the business than a mere assistant. He brought up the idea of making her a partner on more than one occasion. She had refused to discuss the matter with him.

Their present relationship disturbed him not only because she would not accept the partnership she deserved, but because of his attraction to her.

Brad disliked the thought that he was taking advantage of her. She was his business equal, but they both knew he was nowhere near her social equal.

He had never acted on his initial attraction to her. The fear that she might leave the company if he suggested they date had kept him from doing or saying anything that might offend her.

Several weeks ago, they had dinner together to celebrate another first for Phillips Construction Company—their first out-of-state job.

Not only was the new project not in Texas, it wasn’t a commercial building—another first. One of his clients had asked him to bid on a second home for him and his wife to be built in the mountains near Asheville, North Carolina.

Brad ignored the dire predictions of Carl Jackson, his senior supervisor and project manager. Carl pointed out to Brad that constructing a residence was considerably different from building commercial projects. Generally speaking, the project manager had to deal with a wife, which could be a real pain.

Brad had laughed and told him that he had the experience to cope. Carl had not been amused, but he’d taken the assignment, as Brad had known he would.

Carl had been invited to join the dinner celebration but had declined, saying the time to celebrate would be after the project was completed.

Brad and Rachel didn’t see it that way. They were too excited about another avenue opening up for the company. They’d reminisced over their salads, entrées, desserts and coffee about the years they’d worked together, recounting stories to each other. The evening lingered in his memory. He’d been lighthearted and filled with a buoyancy that occurred when he was around Rachel.

Rachel Wood was his best friend. Actually, she was his only friend. He didn’t have time to socialize. He felt comfortable with her. In addition, he trusted her. He trusted few people.

Where was she this morning?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the intercom. He blinked, wondering how long he’d been daydreaming.

“Yes?” he asked. Then he knew exactly how long he’d been lost in his thoughts when Janelle said, “Mr. Simmons is here.”

“Thanks,” he said, heroically not groaning in her ear. “Have him come in.”

Brad straightened in his chair and prepared himself for another boring meeting.

Simmons stepped silently into the room and quietly closed the door behind him. He looked around the room.

“Isn’t Ms. Wood going to be here?” he asked, not bothering to hide his dismay at the prospect of dealing with Brad on his own.

Brad could certainly sympathize with Arthur’s obvious discomfort. “She’s been detained for some reason,” he replied briskly. “I’m certain we can manage to struggle through your reports without her.”