Page 33 of Silver-Tongued Devil
“Oh,” Melody said. “Sure. I’ll get right on that.”
“Good,” Blake said. “That’s it, then.”
Melody made a note, shoved her hair back again, crossed one foot over the other in her high-heeled ankle boots, revealing some extra leg in her short skirt, and asked, “Do you have everything else you need out at the house? Can we do anything for you?” She was taking care of the commercial leasing side, while her mom had handled his house and the much more complex business of acquiring all that lakefront. Small town; family business. The mom, Candy, was pretty good. Lots of experience, and she knew everybody. Melody, he wasn’t so sure about.
“I’m good,” he said. “Thanks for giving Dakota the key.” Somehow, he’d forgotten about that on Friday when Dakota had come out to the house, and she hadn’t asked for it, either. Maybe she’d been distracted. He knew he had been.
He’d remembered to give her his phone number, though. That hadn’t escaped him. She’d called him that afternoon in Denver, and he didn’t care to admit how his heart had leaped when she’d said, “This is Dakota Savage” in that low, slightly husky voice.
He’d kept pedaling the exercise bike that was his warmdown after the workout in the hotel gym, trying not to favor his right leg, pushing through the pain, and said, “Tell me you’re missing me already, and you’ll make my day.”
“I don’t think your ego needs supersizing,” she’d answered, which had made him laugh.
“That was a good one,” he’d said. “What can I do for you?”
It had only been, “Get me a key to your house,” but he’d still been smiling when he’d hung up and made a quick call to Farnsworth Realty. He was almost smiling just thinking about it. Thinking how Dakota was there now, starting to make his house non-ugly. And just that she was there.
“Well,” Melody said now, reaching a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear like he might not have noticed the first three times, “if you do need anything—anything at all—let me know.” She hesitated, catching her lower lip between her perfectly straight teeth, then added, “And if Dakota Savage doesn’t work out, I have a couple other people I could recommend. We have a list of the most reliable tradespeople, and I’d be happy to help you with getting estimates or anything else you need. Another time, just call. You can leave it to me.”
He looked her over. “Is there a reason you’re expecting Dakota not to work out?”
She shrugged one blue-clad shoulder. She was wearing a snug royal-blue knit dress with a high neck, long sleeves, and a swingy, short skirt that looked exactly like a high-school cheerleading uniform, a type of outfit with which he’d once been intimately familiar. “Dakota doesn’t have the… best reputation,” she said delicately, as if she were picking her high-heeled way through a minefield. “There’s her stepfather, and her brother, and then… well, I don’t want to get into it, but let’s say that they’ve both had issues, and there’s been some talk about… well. Why she’s home, why they have that…” She coughed. “Bond. I’ll just say that they’re not on our ‘recommended’ list.”
“You got anything to say about her as a painter?” he asked, keeping his tone even.
“I don’t know her work very well, although her stepfather had that accident on the job and tried to blame it on Steve Sawyer, and Dakota got into it, too, and made a huge stink when everybody knew it was Russell’s own fault. So from a liability standpoint, I’d have some concerns. And for the rest… I suppose you could call it a character issue.”
The way he was firing people in Wild Horse, pretty soon there’d be nobody left to work for him. He needed to let this go. “If I need recommendations from you,” he said, not addingwhen Hell freezes over,“I’ll ask. Thanks for coming over, and I’d like that spreadsheet tomorrow.”
She nodded, and if she understood the snub, she didn’t let it show, because she looked as polished and perky as ever when she said, “You’ve got it. Like I said. Whatever you need, we’re here for you,” smiled at him, and walked out.
Blake didn’t look at Jennifer. He breathed a couple times, then said, “I can tell you’re holding it in. Go ahead.”
“I’m not unbiased,” his assistant said.
“Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?” He grinned at her, feeling better, and she grinned back. Another woman who, if he’d been a different man, he could’ve gone for. Funny and smart and pretty, and no baggage that he could see. The problem was, he never fell for cheerful redheads. It was that damn wild side. That side kept shouting “brunette! With a temper!” in his ear. “Go on,” he said. Tell.”
“Well, you know how you took Beth Schaefer out?”
“Yeah, I do remember that, but I didn’t knowyouknew.”
She shrugged impatiently. “Of course I knew. If that was because Beth’s a sweet person, you don’t want Melody. If it was because Beth’s got the right family and always looks pretty, then maybe you do, because from what I hear, your date may not have gone that well.”
Why did he have the feeling that Jennifer knew about his marriage-and-family plan? He’d always held his cards close to his chest, but then, he’d never had an assistant like her before. “I don’t. Want Melody, that is. I don’t like that kind of woman much anymore.”
“You mean bitchy women?”
He was so surprised, he laughed out loud. “You said the word. I didn’t. Was she a cheerleader in high school, by any chance?”
“Notacheerleader.Headcheerleader. Had the cutest clothes from kindergarten on up, and she still does. But my great-grandma would have said, ‘Pretty is as pretty does.’”
“Well, mine probably would’ve, too, so don’t worry, she’s not going to become your… boss-in-law.”
Jennifer waited a second, then said, “You aren’t asking me about Dakota.”
“Nope. I’ve always kinda prided myself on my judgment, for some crazy reason.”
“Maybe because it’s made you an estimated six hundred twenty-five million dollars as of the end of last year?”
