“No... she...can’t.” Every word was an icy dagger.
Claire dropped her bag, making a strange sucking noise as she did so. Her cheeks hollowed and lips snarled as she glared at him. His stomach churned.
“Claire... Jane... Evans.” She extended her hand in a manner that would have been professional if it didn’t look ready to squeeze the life out of him.
“That’s not the name on the contract. It’s—”
“Where’s Walter McKenna?”
“Not here.”
“Fine.” A forced smile came to her face, so unlike the one she wore last night. This one didn’t reach her hate filled eyes. Actually, she looked more like a predator, baring teeth before chomping down. His body froze, except for his sweat glands. His muscles failed alongside his deodorant.
“Clement Jacob Evans founded CJ’s Hobbies. My grandfather and business partner died in February, leaving everything to me, successor of CJ’s Hobbies.” She cleared her throat, glanced at her still extended hand, and then narrowed her eyes in his direction.
He returned the courtesy, his body responding to the single-pump touch in a way that revived him. If he touched her much longer, he’d deliver a special salute, one entirely unfit for the workplace. Acutely aware of Grace’s presence, he turned toward her before he did something foolish.
“Thank you, Grace.”
She glanced nervously between the two of them, rather than leaving the room as he expected. He gave her a questioning look. Gingerly, she approached and whispered.
“I’ll contact security as you asked.”
Reality hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. Grace remembered what he was about to do and based on the growl he heard, Claire suspected it too. He needed time to regroup. He wanted to chug some Mylanta or disappear or swap jobs with Danny. None of those possibilities would happen. The best he could do was pretend to carefully consider his answer.
“No. I don’t think that will be necessary.” Returning to a conversational level, he continued. “But before you leave, Grace, let’s make sure our guest is comfortable. Can we offer you anything, Claire? A cup of coffee, glass of water?”
“No thank you. I prefer to keep my business meetings as brief as possible.” She looked at Grace, not him. Her voice lacked the warmth he longed to hear. But she had the right idea. This meeting was strictly business. He’d worked with family long enough to know how to keep personal business out of the workplace. Not that Claire was family, but she worked with a family business too, so she knew the drill. Although, he thought she worked at museums. His thoughts refused to congeal. She looked nice. He wondered if she’d mind going into the city for dinner.
They watched Grace leave the room, otherwise standing still. Only after the door clicked, did she address him, fixing him with a mean stare.
“So you’re not an engineer.”
“I never said I was. You made that assumption—”
“You didn’t correct me.”
“You never said you ran a local business. You said you worked at a museum.”
“I sometimes do.” After a pause she continued. “So Mr. Fordham, I must admit my surprise being called here today without my corporate liaison Walter McKenna also being present.”
“No need to be so formal. Please have a seat.” He gestured to the low-backed easy chair closest to her. “Mr. McKenna recused himself from this meeting.”
He walked to the other side of his desk, eyeing the drawer that might offer relief for the discomfort in his stomach. Claire’s presence knocked him off his normal game. In spite of her being a sensual, confident, and fully-grown woman, she played with trains. Walter’s hobby was pathetic, but at least the man had a real job and seemed competent at it. He’d ask her about her little hobby later. It would make interesting dinner conversation. He couldn’t completely separate his personal curiosity from the business side of this meeting.
“I really wasn’t expecting you.”
“Me neither.” Hostility rolled off her in waves. She needed to take a deep breath. This was almost as bad as when his mom found out Dad was remarrying. Even that swimsuit model he’d dated, Danya, had shown less anger when he’d told her he point blank he didn’t want to marry her, not even to help her get a green card. Still, once the shock wore off, he expected Claire would come around. She needed a few minutes to absorb the surprise. He knew he did.
His gaze darted to the drawer again, but a Mylanta cocktail would be weak. Never be vulnerable. Play to win. His father’s words echoed in his mind. He glanced at the folder in front of him. Work came first, but she might need to be put at ease with a bit of small talk. He forced the left side of his mouth to lift up as he looked her in the eye.
“So how did Claire Jane Evans come to be in charge of Adena’s holiday train display?”
Her expression softened, reminding him of that first night on his porch when she spoke of catching fireflies.
“My grandfather came up with idea over sixty years ago. Adena needed to rehabilitate its image after an industrial accident. Since then, it’s grown into a beloved tradition, expanding every year and increasing donations to local hospitals and STEM learning. Until now.”
Her gaze hardened and her eyes narrowed so much, he could no longer see their green. James leaned into his seatback, pressing his shoulder blades against his spine as he did so. The chair swiveled from the force. A deep inhale and exhale not only settled his stomach but renewed his focus. She’d get over it. She was in shock. Once she recovered from the surprise, she would recognize this as a clear-cut business decision. After all, she was a business owner herself. No doubt she made tough decisions. He tented his fingers and drummed the pads against each other in sequential rhythm.
“That’s how the holiday display came to be, but not what I asked. How did you become involved?”
“I assisted my grandfather about
