Page 6 of Bargain With The Boss (Crescent Cove: The Moguls #2)

Sydney

I grabbed onto the handle inside the car as he navigated the potholes in the parking lot.

Gavin’s truck was gone, and the dumpsters were overflowing with sun-damaged shingles. Guilt needled at me. I shouldn’t have let Xavier distract me with food.

Then again, I wasn’t truly here to help them with the demolition portion of the project.

I was supposed to be finding a way to kill it.

I laid a hand over my belly where the tacos suddenly felt like a boulder. Nerves always went right to my stomach. First to eat all the food, then to regret it mightily.

Then we got out to the main lake road everything evened out and the wind started up. It lightened my mood immediately. I’d never been in a convertible.

Living in Seattle, convertibles were close to useless.

But the warm day had me tipping my head back to enjoy it.

Xavier turned up the music and the driving beat of some band I didn’t know filled the speakers and swirled around us. When I opened my eyes Xavier was looking at me. I couldn’t see what was going on behind those mirrored glasses, but I could still feel the heat of it.

And I didn’t know what to do with that.

That wasn’t on my itinerary.

None of this was on my itinerary.

I should be finalizing—my phone buzzed in my bag. I pulled it out and the little bubble of joy popped. My fingers flew over my screen as I replied to a few messages from Leah.

Being left alone with the entire account was leaving my usually unflappable assistant a jittery mess.

Then again, it was rare for any of my team to actually have to deal one-on-one with my mother.

She was a difficult woman on a good day, but now with Jude and me out of the office, she was beyond demanding.

“Everything okay?”

I glanced over at Xavier. “Fine. Just something at my real job.”

“This isn’t your real job?”

I huffed out an annoyed breath and didn’t answer. It took the entire ride to calm Leah down and figure out how to put out a fire with the manufacturer. I usually dealt with them because my mother had no patience with the reality of logistics.

I was the one who kept the back end of the business running. Me being out here in Crescent Cove wasn’t going to go well for any of us.

My thumbs paused over the screen.

Maybe that was the point.

Maybe this was how my mother would actually see that I was a valuable part of A Home You Love.

“Syd?”

I texted back to Leah for her to let my mother handle it. Then shoved my phone in my bag. “Everything’s fine.”

“I don’t believe you, but we’re here.”

I tucked a lock of hair that blew free from my braid around my ear. “This is where you work?”

He nodded. “Wait until you see inside.”

Before I could get out of the car, he was opening my door, holding out a hand for me. Manners had been too ingrained in me to avoid his hand. His skin was warm and surprisingly calloused. At the same time, he was well groomed. It was an odd mix of masculine and playboy that left me unbalanced.

I immediately dropped his hand when I got out of the car.

“It was an old chair factory back in the day.” He rushed ahead to open the front door for me. It was an old stone building with a surprisingly updated security panel. It was discreet which didn’t take away from the wrought iron touches around the large French doors.

As soon as the doors opened the strong scent of wood and mineral oils hit me in a wave.

“Strong isn’t it? We can’t quite get rid of the scent, but it isn’t offensive.”

“No, it’s...soothing.”

“Right?” He pulled off his sunglasses, tucking them into the collar of his shirt. “Smells like when I used to go over to my Aunt Victoria’s place. She was very proud of her wood floors and built-ins. I always remembered the hint of beeswax on the air from her Sunday cleaning.”

Surprised, I followed him inside, my ballet flats quiet on the hardwood floors. “Her cleaning?”

“My mother married into the Hastings name. She crawled her way out of Syracuse with good grades and a scholarship. I didn’t get to see Aunt Vick very often, but when I did, I didn’t have to worry about sitting on her furniture or talking.”

“I know how that can be.”

He smiled at me, but the usual charm wasn’t there. “Sucks sometimes.”

“I used to sneak off to the gardener’s shed.” Surprised that I said that, I cleared my throat. “This is wonderful.”

“Gardener?”

I escaped to the big window that showed off the other factory buildings. Some seemed abandoned while others were repurposed like this one. The back of the building had a small garden with large, comfortable chairs that seemed to be half for looks and half for actually enjoying time out there.

The patio was a pretty shale gray with flower boxes full of pansies and coneflowers with an abundance of ninebark that were just starting to bloom. “Who’s the gardener?”

Xavier came up behind me. “Gavin wanted a place to bring clients outside. I put the flower boxes in. Luna helped me pick some plants.”

I turned and he was far closer than I expected.

His lashes were long and light blond with dark tips which made his blue eyes far too pretty.

The mix of wood and spirits along with his sandalwood scent closed in around me.

I reached behind me to twist the doorknob to the back and swung the door open to get a few steps between us.

Xavier grinned. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No, of course not. You’re just a space invader.”

He looked at his hand and waggled it. “Not green.”

“Stop, you know what you’re doing.”

He gently took my elbow and eased me away from the trellis I was about to walk into. “You mentioned gardening before.” He drew his fingers down my arm to tangle with mine. “Is that where these little callouses are from?”

I tugged my hand away. “Yes. I enjoy plants. Henry taught me all about the flowers in our garden.” It had been a long time since I’d thought about the gardener from my childhood.

He was long gone now, but he’d taught me all about soils and how to plant flowers gently so they would flourish.

About root rot and what plants should be grouped together and which ones would strangle the others.

“Your eyes got sad.”

I swung away from him, crossing to the ninebark blooms just about to unfurl. “Henry was my happy place. He didn’t mind that I bugged him with a million questions.”

“Luna is a witch.”

I twirled around to face him. “I’m sorry?”

He huffed out a laugh. “You shared a bit, so I thought I would too.” He followed me and picked up one of the terra cotta pots, setting it on the table.

Fat asters were in full bloom, their purple flowers popping against the neutral pot.

“It’s getting easier for me to say witch.

She was always so different from the rest of us. ”

“Like pointy hat?”

He laughed. “No, she is more of an aura and tarot card reading kind. She made sure this had a soothing flow. I think that’s what she said. Natural stones and a few of these.” He touched the wind chimes full of colored glass.

I got a little closer and noticed that they weren’t glass, they were crystals. Then I noticed the heavy planters weren’t just stone but a white snow looking crystal on each corner full of hearty succulents.

The yellow and white crystals clinked musically when Xavier let them go. “I may not understand exactly what she sees in the world, but this space has been good for our clients. We’ve made quite a few deals out here.”

“I’m not sure what to say to that one.”

He shrugged. “Plants have a similar vibe, right?”

Understanding, I nodded. “That’s true.” The urge to tell him about my ideas for a gardening company surprised me, but I swallowed it down.

I wasn’t here to make friends.

Resolutely, I headed back inside. “Show me the rest.”

He nodded and followed me, closing the wide glass doors behind us. “This is our show-off space.” He led me over to the photos in clear glass frames. They hung on wires in deference to all the stone. Dozens of buildings and homes made a montage of their successes.

I stepped closer to see the smiling family outside of a quaint little bungalow, then a ribbon cutting photo in front of a jewelry store. On and on, there were all sorts of smiling faces. Not the slick photo ops of my mother’s grand openings. These were small town coded with real people.

“Everyone that buys or leases from us gets added to the FHK family wall.”

“Impressive.”

“Some of it is for the clout we need to find the next big project. Some is just to remember why we do this.”

“I have to say the idealist part of you is surprising.”

“Why?”

“Most people who come from money only care about continuing the money legacy. Not...all this.”

“Well, we’re not most people.”

I was beginning to see that.

And I wasn’t quite sure what to do with that.

How was I supposed to ruin all of this?

And why would Jude ever come back to A Home You Love after being a part of this?

“Let me show you the offices on the next floor.”

I nodded and followed him across the hardwood to the spiral staircase. It wasn’t practical in any way, but I had a feeling that the office space on the first floor was for dreams.

As I got to the next floor, there was the male flavor I’d been expecting. It was a wide open floorplan with a desk for each of the guys in front of one of the massive windows.

I could guess which one was Xavier’s. It looked like a fourteen year old was let loose with adult money.

Captain America wasn’t just for shirts when it came to his desk either.

On either side of the arched window was a bookcase with memorabilia mixed with awards and child drawings all given equal billing.

In fact, the kid drawings might have actually gotten center stage on a few of the shelves.

A photo of an ethereal blond and an all-American looking guy with a baby cuddled between them was beside another of just the little boy.

Jude, Owen, and Maddie were in another frame with a drawing of a family with a few bonus guys which I guessed were Xavier and Gavin.

On the far side of the room was an executive desk that could only be Jude’s.

It was dark and topped with a leather blotter and more family photos.

My chest ached when I saw I’d been included in the family photos.

Ever since Jude had done the deep dive on the Hamiltons, it seemed like he’d left me behind.

Had I been so wrong?