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Shaking her head, she dropped into the seat and looked at the man sitting opposite her. He was watching her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“We’re going to be working together on this, Lacy,” he said quietly. “I hope that’s not going to be a problem.”
“I can do my job, Sam,” she assured him.
“So can I, Lacy,” he said. “The question is, can we do the job together?”
Three
It went wrong right from the jump. For the next hour, they butted heads continuously until Lacy had a headache the size of Idaho.
“You closed the intermediate run on the east side of the mountain,” he said, glancing up from the reports. “I want that opened up again.”
“We can’t open it until next season,” Lacy said, pausing for a sip of the latte that had gone cold over the past hour.
He dropped a pen onto the desk top. “And why’s that?”
She met his almost-accusatory stare with cool indifference. “We had a storm come through late December. Tore down a few pines and dropped a foot and a half of snow.” She crossed her legs and held her latte between her palms. “The pines are blocking the run and we can’t get a crew in there to clear it out because the snow in the pass is too deep.”
He frowned. “You waited too long to send in a crew.”
At the insinuation of incompetence in his voice, she stood up and stared down at him. “I waited until the storm passed,” she argued. “Once we got a look at the damage and I factored in the risks to the guys of clearing it, I closed that run.”
Leaning back in his chair, he met her gaze. “So you ran the rest of the season on half power.”
“We did fine,” she said tightly. “Check the numbers.”
“I have.” Almost lazily, he stood so that he loomed over her, forcing her to lift her gaze. “You didn’t do badly...”
“Thanks so much.” Sarcasm dripped from every word.
“It would have been a better season with that run open.”
“Well yeah,” she said, setting her latte cup onto her desk. “But we don’t always get what we want, do we?”
His eyes narrowed and she gave herself a mental pat on the back for that well-aimed barb. Before Sam had walked out on her and everyone else, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d lost her temper. Now that he was back, though, the anger she used to keep tamped down kept bubbling up.
“Leaving that alone for the moment,” he said, “the revenue from the snack bar isn’t as high as it used to be.”
She shrugged. This was not news to her. “Not that many people are interested in hot dogs, really. Most people go for a real lunch in town.”
“Which is why building a restaurant at the summit is important,” he said.
She hated that he was right. “I agree.”
A half smile curved his mouth briefly and her stomach gave a quick twist in response. It was involuntary, she consoled herself. Sam smiled; she quivered. Didn’t mean she had to let him know.
“If we can agree on one thing, there may be more.”
“Don’t count on it,” she warned.
He tipped his head to one side and stared at her. “I don’t remember you being so stubborn. Or having a temper.”
“I learned how to stand up for myself while you were gone, Sam,” she told him, lifting her chin to emphasize her feelings on this. “I won’t smile and nod just because Sam Wyatt says something. When I disagree, you’ll know it.”
Nodding, he said, “I think I like the new Lacy as much as I did the old one. You’re a strong woman. Always have been, whether you ever chose to show it or not.”
“No,” Lacy said softly. “You don’t get to do that, Sam. You don’t get to stand there and pretend to know me.”
“I do know you, Lacy,” he argued, coming around the desk. “We were married.”
“Were being the operative word in that sentence,” she reminded him, and took two steps back. “You don’t know me anymore. I’ve changed.”
“I can see that. But the basics are the same,” he said, closing the distance between them again. “You still smell like lilacs. You still wear your hair in that thick braid I used to love to undo and spill across your shoulders...”
Lacy’s stomach did a fast, jittery spin and her heartbeat leaped into a gallop. How was it fair that he could still make her body come alive with a few soft words and a heated look? Why hadn’t the need for him drowned in the sea of hurt and anger that had enveloped her when he left?
