Page 115 of The Calendar of New Beginnings
Chase shifted his gaze to Evan, who was wriggling like he was sitting on the hot seat. If he was considering Moira’s lamebrain idea, hewas. He knew better than anyone that Maurie Wallins was toxic.
“When Evan endowed Emmits Merriam University with the largest gift anyone has ever given a U.S. university to support young inventors,” Moira said, tucking a lock of her brown hair behind her ear, “he put Artemis on the map. We have to invite Fortune 500 company executives who support innovation, and that means going to companies like K-Barker and Longburrow. We’ll lose credibility if we don’t.”
“But they’re Quid-Atch’scompetitors,” Chase repeated, pushing back from the table and crossing his arms. “You don’t know the kind of dirty tricks we have to guard against when we’re competing for defense contracts, and we have ahuge U.S. Defense Department bid going on right now, Moira. To the tune of seven hundred million dollars. Tell her, Evan.”
Even though Evan was technically the chief executive officer of Quid-Atch, he left much of the day-to-day work to Chase. But he knew about the big bids, the kind that could cause layoffs if they didn’t win. This was that kind of bid.
After over a year of preparation, they had eighty-seven days to put all the remaining pieces together. The project management leader they were putting forward for the bid was the best candidate out there, and they’d paired him with a first-rate team of subcontractors. Chase never settled for less than a winning strategy.
“Chase is right in saying a seven-hundred-million-dollar bid is areallybig government bid for us,” Evan said in a neutral tone. “I could barely talk him into taking time off for this team-building workshop, but Artemis’ first fundraiser is critical.”
Moira’s eyes widened like silver dollars, likely because of the amount of money they were discussing, but she immediately narrowed them again. She really was one determined woman. Chase usually admired that about her—it was why he’d approved hiring her for the director job even though her experience, while impressive, was limited to human resources.
He’d be better off if it were theonlything he admired about her. Truth was, he was having a tough time fighting his attraction to Moira Hale. She was funny and no-nonsense, smart as a whip, and sexy to boot with her clear green eyes, curly brown hair, and petite figure.
It was a unique experience for a man who’d sworn off romantic feelingsafter his divorce.
It was also a problem.
While Chase could have delegated his work with Moira to someone else, the grant Evan had given Emmits Merriam for the Artemis Institute was high-profile news. Everyone knew the institute was tied to Evan, which meant it reflected on Quid-Atch. Besides, if he hadn’t agreed to come to Dare Valley this weekend, Evan might have given Moira her way. It reaffirmed Chase’s need to oversee the center’s ongoing business.
“I see Moira’s point about credibility, Chase,” Evan said, making him want to growl. “But, Moira, I also hear Chase’s concern about inviting our competitors to the fundraiser, especially when we have such a huge bid in the works.”
“One we’re not assured to win outright, Evan,” Chase reminded him. Since Moira looked puzzled, he glanced her way, trying not to register how pretty she looked in the green ski sweater that matched her eyes. “On some bids, we’re in a strong position to win, either because we had the preceding contract or because we’ve done a lot of work in the area in which we’re competing. Not this time. It’s a wide open field.”
And his mortal enemy was gunning for them like always. Chase hated competing with Maurie Wallins. He played dirty, but he knew how to skirt the line between unethical and outright illegal, which was how he’d made K-Barker so successful. Chase simply didn’t do business that way, and luckily Evan agreed.
Moira folded her hands and looked intently at them. “I appreciate your point, but if Artemis is going to be seen as an independent center, we need to be neutral about who we invite to our fundraisers.”
Chase was ready to snap back at her, like a taut rubber band, but Evan slapped a hand on the table and stood up. “I think we need to table this discussion for a few days while I consider the pros and cons. Is everyone ready to hit the slopes?”
Chase didn’t like that suggestion. “I think?—”
“I’d love to,” Moira said, standing up and smiling as though she’d won a minor victory.
Maybe she had. Evan usually fell in line with Chase’s wishes. Whenever he delayed giving an answer, Chase knew they were destined to go back and forth on the topic for days.
“Fine, let’s go,” Chase said, keyed up with nervous energy from the discussion. He would talk to Evan later.
They left the conference room and headed to the small private room holding their ski gear. The hotel was a destination for skiers, so there were several rooms like this right on the slopes. Chase did his best not to watch Moira get dressed. Oddly, it was arousing to see her puttingonclothes. He forced himself to keep his gaze away from her as he clamped on his ski boots, picked up his skis, and walked out into the snow. He put on his skis and waited for Evan and Moira to join him. When they did, they moved in tandem to the ski lift.
Growing up in Wyoming, Chase had cruised down his fair share of slopes, whenever he could scrape enough money together. Money wasn’t a worry now, but time was. It had been a long time since he’d gone skiing.
Chase continued to fight the urge to look at Moira as they all hopped off the ski lift at the top of the hotel’s luxurious ski slopes. Finally, as they stood at the top of the hill, he let himself look his fill.She met his gaze and held it. There was a sea of white behind Moira, and in her red suit, she looked like a lone flame that could melt everything in her wake. Including his resistance.
Her mouth tipped up at the corners as she continued to stare right back at him. Sometimes he thought she engaged in staring matches with him because she was competitive, and she wanted him to know she wouldn’t back down. Chase had a good poker face, and he could out-stare even the most trained politician or defense minister in the military business dealings he conducted for Quid-Atch. However, a few times he caught a softer glint in her eyes, the kind a woman had for a man she found pleasing.
That softer glint kept him awake at nights and made him analyze all the reasons why he’d be an idiot to ask her out.
Chase Parker didn’t date. He made deals. Ran a corporate empire. Had sex occasionally with an interesting companion he’d selected to look good on his arm. He certainly didn’t date colleagues, even peripheral ones like Moira.
“I’ll see you at the bottom,” Chase said and turned to fly down the slopes.
The blue sky was brilliant—even through his ski goggles—and he loved the punch of cold air on his face as he wove his way down the slopes, making sure to keep clear of beginner skiers.
He pulled up at the bottom of the slope and took a deep, cleansing breath. Skiing was invigorating. He wished he had more time for it, he realized. There were a lot of things he didn’t have time for, but that’s what happened when you spent every waking moment working.
Someone punched him in the shoulder.
