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Gran clasped her hands together. She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted.
“I’ve finished with your writing desk.”
I jerked my head around and saw Ryder. How did he get there?
I jumped and knocked over my teacup, spilling what it contained onto the table. “Jeez, Ryder. You startled me. What were you doing, hiding behind the…”
I threw a hand up to cover my mouth, but it was too late. I’d let it out, without meaning to. Given the circumstances that had led to his sister’s fatal accident, suggesting he’d been hiding behind something eavesdropping was about the worst thing I could say.
“Go on, finish it,” he said, glaring down at me. “What was I doing? You were saying? I was hiding behind the door, is that it? Is that what you think of my family?”
“Now, stop it,” said Gran with authority. “Stop it, both of you.” She got out of her chair, squared up Ryder, and motioned to me. “She didn’t mean anything by it. You did startle us. We were having a private conversation.”
Ryder’s scowl softened, and he nodded at Gran sheepishly. Then he added, “I didn’t hear anything” and he glanced my way, giving me a look that did not at all have me convinced that he hadn’t heard our conversation. “I just wanted to let you know that I finished with your writing desk. I’m heading off now.”
“Well, hold on a moment,” said Gran. She took him by the arm and turned him away from me and toward the door. “Let’s go have a look at this marvelous writing desk you’ve been promising me.” She glanced over her shoulder at me and added, “You’ll excuse us for just a minute. I’ll be right back.”
“Of course.” I took a napkin and busied myself trying to blot out the spilled tea while they left the room.
My goodness. Ryder. How long was he standing there listening?
It was one thing to have a foursome near the lake for anyone passing by to see. But to have Ryder hear about it was an altogether different idea, and one I was not at all comfortable with.
14
Teddy
Work hard, play harder—though not necessarily in that order. I’d gained a certain amount of respect and camaraderie with that little mantra. But it was sometimes tricky treading the fine line between being the boss and being a boss.
“You’re too chummy with the staff,” said Wolf.
I’d arrived at the office early, but Wolf was already there, seated at his desk before a clutter of paperwork.
“Good morning, Wolf,” I said.
“You’re too chummy with the staff,” he repeated.
“I heard you the first time.” I walked past his office to the break room, hoping the coffee was strong. It looked like it was going to be a tough day.
The coffee hadn’t been brewed, so I started making a pot when Wolf came out of his office waving a sheet of paper and barking about last month’s catering expenses.
“What are we feeding these guys, caviar?” He shoved the paper in my face. “Have you seen these numbers?”
I took the paper from him and pretended to look it over. “Seems right to me.” I handed it back to him.
He smirked. “You would say that. You don’t have to pay the bills.”
“The men have to eat, don’t they?” I said.
“Not at these prices they don’t.” As he walked back to his office, he said, “I’m cutting the catering budget in half.” He stopped at the doorway, turned to me, and added, “You spend any more than half, and it’s coming out of your pay.”
I decided the coffee could wait. When a man, or Wolf, threatens to take my money, I don’t let that slide. I followed him into his office. “That wasn’t the deal,” I said.
“The deal?”
“Yeah. You hired me to look after the staff, that’s what I’m doing. We agreed on a budget, that’s the budget I’m following. That was the deal. You can’t up and change things weeks before the opening.”
“I can’t?” said Wolf. “I just did.” He looked up at me briefly then went back to the clutter of papers on his desk.
I stood at the doorway seething. Clip-clop, clip-clop.
A little trick I learned on an anger management course was to imagine or recollect the sound of a horse trotting through an open field. Clip-clop, clip-clop.
The little trick always kept me from acting on my anger, but eventually, that horse was going to run past the field and head straight for a china shop.
Clip-clop, clip-clop.
“What are you standing there for?” asked Wolf. “Don’t you have some work to do?”
I stared at him a moment longer, calm, collected, no rage showing on my face. “I’ll try to cut back a little on the catering,” I said. “But it won’t be my half, and not a dime is going to be taken from my pay.”
