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Fawcett blinked.
“An
d I’m going to say yes, I’m new and we haven’t met because I’m not interested in meeting anyone, and then I’ll tell you that I prefer red wine and that I’m sure you’re a nice guy but I’m not interested in champagne or anything else. Got it?”
Fawcett’s mouth dropped open.
Addison took pity on the man and patted his arm.
“Thanks anyway,” she said, and she turned her back to him, wound her way through the crowd until she found an empty bit of wall space near a big Steinway grand piano and settled into it.
Dammit, she thought, glancing at her watch, how much longer until the local hero showed up? Five minutes more, and then—
“Why do I suspect you’re not having a good time?”
Addison turned around, ready to provide a sharp answer, but when she saw the tall, good-looking man who’d slipped up next to her, she fixed him with a narrow-eyed glare instead.
“Travis Wilde,” she said, “you owe me, big-time.”
“Well, that answers your question,” Caleb Wilde said as he joined them. “You suspect she’s not having a good time because she isn’t. Right, Addison?”
“Considering that I’ve spent the last months turning down invitations from the country club, the ranchers’ association, the ladies’ sewing league—”
“Not the sewing league,” Travis said in shocked tones.
“The sewing league,” Addison said, and when she saw the brothers’ mouths twitch, she relented, if only a little. “You said he would be here by eight.”
“Jacob.” Caleb cleared his throat. “That’s what we figured.”
“It’s almost eight-thirty. And there’s still no sign of the mystery man.”
“Jake’s not a mystery man,” Travis said quickly. “And he’ll be here. Just be patient.”
Addison made a face. The last few months, her patience had been in increasingly short supply.
“You need an expert to take a long, hard look at the Chambers place, figure out if it makes sense to fix it up before you put it on the market or not. In today’s economic climate—”
Addison held up her hand.
“I’ve heard this speech before.”
“It’s still valid. Jake’s recommendations could make hundreds of thousands of dollars’ difference to you.”
She could hardly scoff at that. Those Manhattan mortgage payments, the tuition loans …
Besides, the ranch had meant something to Charlie and he’d left it to her. That was a kind of obligation. She had to do the right thing with it, if only out of respect for his memory.
“Ten minutes. He’ll be here by then,” Caleb said. “Okay?”
“He’d better be,” Addison said, but she softened the words with a smile.
She could spare another ten minutes, partly because she liked and respected Caleb, her attorney, and Travis, her financial consultant—
And partly because she was curious.
She was increasingly certain the Wildes weren’t telling her all there was to tell about the mysterious Jacob.
She knew he was, or had been, in the army. That he’d been wounded. That he was some kind of hero. His brothers hadn’t said so but she’d heard the rumors from the one lonely cowboy who worked her ranch part-time. Caleb and Travis simply talked about his ability to assess the place.
