She avoided him as much as possible in the confined space, which was hard to do when he pestered her about how things worked and how he could help. It was one thing for Walter to work with James and show him how to cover the control panel and protect it from dust, but another matter entirely for her to risk accidental contact.
If she learned anything from the opening night, it was that his touch led to disaster either in the form of tears or worse. He’d caused her enough pain and aggravation already. She didn’t have time to indulge in lustful thoughts or notice the way he leaned in as the OMC answered his questions. Her blood boiled when he nodded his head while listening to them. He’d done the same thing to her on opening night. Asked questions, listened, and when she was most vulnerable, he took advantage of her weakness, providing comfort, and shelter and hope. Jerk.
“Want to get dinner? Did you eat today?” He held the dustpan as she swept.
“I had breakfast.” Sunday was easy. They couldn’t open the trains until church let out. “Besides, even if somewhere was still open, you’ve been blacklisted at every place in a twenty-mile radius.”
“Ten, but the drive-thrus in the next town don’t care.” He shrugged.
“I’m not convinced.”
“I’ll work harder. This section of land here near the forest, is the elevation and location real?”
“Mostly. Before the core of engineers diverted the river, that drop powered the water wheel.”
He nodded, but his gaze seemed unfocused.
“Don’t spill that dustpan before you dump it. I don’t want to sweep again before locking up.”
“Right. When is the next open day? Tuesday?”
“Wednesday.”
“I’ll see you then, Claire.” He picked up his coat and offered her hers. “Do you ever get a night off?”
“Only when we’re closed Monday and Tuesday and even the self-employed have to earn a paycheck sometime.”
“Maybe we can grab a bite Wednesday after you close up.”
He held the door open and waited as she locked up. She met his gaze. The golden flecks in his eyes were like unexpected rays of sunshine peeking through a dense copse of trees. Her mouth wouldn’t form the word no. “Maybe.”
The corners of his mouth twitched as he nodded his head. It was a front-porch easy kind of moment that raised a world of possibilities.
HOPE WAS MORE POWERFUL than caffeine. Caught up in online research of both content and social networks, the chirping of his alarm startled James into another work week. Somehow the whole night had passed, and he hadn’t slept. He poured a bowl of cereal and looked at his paper planner with the schedule he’d set up a lifetime ago while on the plane to NYC for Thanksgiving. He crossed off almost everything, leaving the page a cluttered mess of nonsense. “That’s okay. I’ll start fresh.”
Unencumbered by the need to wash car windows or collect forks from his yard, James arrived at the office early. He paused at the security desk.
“Good morning, Ryan is it?” The man’s eyebrows rose, and he sat up a little straighter.
“Yes, sir.”
“Here. Donuts for your breakroom.” He set two boxes on the counter and held the third. “I’ll take these to the second floor, but could you make sure the others get to the main one.”
“Sure.” The guy sounded nervous.
“They’re from the gas station – nothing fancy, but they were open. I bought them out.”
“Do I need to call in additional security staff today? Will there be a lot of people needing escorts?”
He chuckled. “Nope. Not today. Have a good day.”
James put the other box of donuts in the breakroom and got settled in his office before Grace arrived. After firing up the computer, he pulled up files sent from a friend of a friend who worked for an electric company in North Carolina. Taking advantage of the large screen, to have multiple programs visible at once, he pulled up files from an old school chum who worked for an energy innovation company.
Movement caught his eye. Grace was taking off her coat. He pressed the orange call button on the intercom.
“Yes?” She sounded a bit out of breath. He checked the clock; she was a few minutes late, but that happened sometimes. Traffic.
“I need you to set up a meeting this afternoon with all the veeps, and I need maps of all Adena’s land holdings and elevation charts. I need the charts ASAP. Before I meet with the veeps, I need to see Bryce Mason in technologies. Give me two to three hours with him this morning.”
He had the maps before he finished his coffee. He spread them across the conference table. From what he could see, and what he understood of the regulations, this might work.
“Sir?” Grace’s voice rang through the intercom. “Mr. Mason is here.”
“Send him in.”
Bryce Mason looked even younger than James expected, but his credentials on paper looked good. He extended his hand.
“Bryce, call me James, I know your two-year term is expiring soon, but I only recently saw the recommendation report you filed in your second month at Adena. Let’s talk.”
JAMES COULDN’T EAT lunch. There were too many piles of paper on his desk, the table, and even a few on the floor. Besides, his stomach was too weird—not gurgling, not upset, but something different. He prowled the room, weaving together information and rapidly updating a presentation for the Veeps. He didn’t have as much detail as he needed, yet. Bryce promised him updated numbers by Tuesday morning. An alarm rang on his phone. Three minutes until showtime. He cleared the conference table as his guests arrived.
“As you know, my sole goal is to make Adena profitable as expediently as possible.” The Veeps eyed him with skepticism and worry. “I’ve been consulting with a few outside firms. I’ve charged Bryce Mason with assembling information for few different proposals. In the next forty-eight hours, I expect all of you to keep your phones on twenty-four seven and do
