Maddy's Oasis (11 page)

“Your brother’s more handsome,” she assessed.
“Though I wonder who would win in a brawl.”

“Jake, easily,” Kitty said. “Mark looks like
a good match, but Jake always wins.”

“He’s in brawls often?” Madeleine asked with
a smile. “It doesn’t seem like much affects him.”

“Oh, he’s been in a few,” Kitty said. “It’s
hard to rile him up, but he’s got a fierce temper when it’s
lit.”

“They seem to be getting along right now,”
Madeleine observed. “Figures.”

“How so?”

Madeleine shook her head. Kitty suddenly
uttered a small sound of disgust, and Madeleine glanced up from her
plate to see the same petite blond from earlier once again hanging
around Jake.

“She has a lotta nerve showing up,” Kitty
grumbled. “If Jake invited her back after all she did to him, I’ll
kick his ass!”

Madeleine debated against asking, but
curiosity won out.

“Ex-girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Lily. Absolutely no shame or
sense.”

Lily sidled up to Jake and issued Mark a
dazzling smile as she wrapped one arm around Jake’s waist and
leaned into him. Jake didn't move away; neither did he acknowledge
her. Mark smiled in return, but the two men were once again quickly
in discussion.

Abruptly Madeleine wanted to
leave. A perfect little doll, Lily was more than Madeleine could
stomach after her rattling run-ins with Jake. How could he
think
her
superficial when the petite ex-girlfriend was smiling
invitingly at every man she crossed?

She knew the answer. Lily was beautiful.
Beautiful women didn't have to work at life like non-beautiful
women.

“Men are
so
stupid,” she muttered.

“I know!” Kitty exclaimed, her attention on
reorganizing the cheese tray.

Madeleine turned her back on the scene,
soured once more. She watched a humming Kitty move dishes around
and add more spices to her chilis.

“Hey, Kitty,” Jake called as he and Mark
approached. “I think you need some more dirt in this sauce. There's
not enough flavor.”

While he made an attempt to make his words
light, his voice carried a tight note.

“It’s not dirt!” Kitty retorted.

“Madge, I thought we’d go do dinner
tomorrow.” Mark’s voice was smooth and warm. “Around six?”

Before she could respond, Jake did.

“Madeleine
works until midnight at least.”

“We have some
upper
management issues
to discuss,” Mark continued.

“You’ll have to do it at the site,” Jake
said, elongating his Texan drawl in a way she recognized as being a
sign of agitation.

“Kitty, can you make me a plate?” Madeleine
asked the attentive sister. “I think it’s time for me to
leave.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Management is funny like that. The higher
you get, the less you do,” Jake said.

“There's much to be said for planning,
strategy, and decision-making. I don’t expect the grunts on the
ground to understand or have the mental capacity to participate,”
Mark said with a smile.

She almost sighed. Something had gotten into
both of the men, and she truly didn't care what. It was probably
nothing more than a severe affliction of testosterone.

“We dumb hicks work for a living,” Jake said
in an exaggerated accent.

“Madge, I’ll pick you up from the site at six
tomorrow,” Mark said, ignoring him.

“You’ll have to bring dinner with you.
Madeleine doesn’t leave the site,” Jake repeated. “Why don’t you
bring some work clothes with you, and I’ll show you what real men
do out west? It’ll be a nice story for your wine-sippin’, gym
member, hippie brethren back east.”

Kitty looked startled, and
Madeleine knew a challenge between two such men would not be
pleasant. She accepted her plate from Kitty with a mouthed
thank you.

“Why don’t we do this.” Mark’s voice had
hardened. “Why don’t I bring a team of my assistants, and we can
have a little competition. Your guys against mine.”

“Christ,” Madeleine muttered, and started
away.

“Madge, dinner tomorrow?” Mark called after
her.

“I have work to do,” she replied, then yelled
to a nearby Eric, “Eric, give me your keys! Princess, come!”

She wanted nothing to do with either of the
bickering men. For the first time in ten days, she wanted to return
to the safety of the stench-filled trailer and stare at mismatched
numbers until she fell asleep.

Mark’s arrival was nothing but a twist of the
knife in her back. She was losing control of more than the entire
project, and she couldn't exactly understand how money and time
were sliding so quickly through her fingers while she did her
damndest to keep them both in line.

No sooner had she settled into Eric’s rental
and unfolded a map when her BlackBerry buzzed. Madeleine touched
the earpiece without looking at the caller ID.

“Madeleine Winters.”

“Hey, it’s Jake. There’s something I didn’t
want to mention in front of the others."

“Go ahead.”

He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice
held a familiar, unidentifiable edge.

“My banker called and said there was a glitch
in the funding deposit. We can’t continue until the payment is
straightened out.”

“I’ll take care of it first thing in the
morning,” she said in a more subdued tone. “I apologize, Jake.”

“Don’t,” he said. “I know you were thrown
into a screwed-up situation. If you were running things from the
start, there would never be a problem with anything.”

Pleased by the compliment, Madeleine smiled
for the first time that day.

“I’ll keep the men busy at the site in the
morning until this mess is fixed,” he continued. “You might as well
stay at the hotel tonight.”

“I will. I’ll keep Princess with me.”

“You don’t rename a man’s dog,” he
growled.

“Good night, Jake.”

She hung up and started the car, somewhat
relieved that she would have a chance for a hot bath after all.

CHAPTER FIVE

What started out as a friendly competition at
the site soon turned fierce. The “games”-- as Mark called them--
involved site clean-up, and Jake realized Madeleine was getting
double her money’s worth as the two teams rushed to finish their
tasks.

By ten in the morning, they had managed to
stack all the scattered stones, finish the placement of beams in
the lobby, and drag the polished marble walkway into place.

Jake stood beneath the hot mid-morning sun
and met Mark’s gaze, pleased with his team. Mark’s staff consisted
of half a dozen athletic men from Mr. Howard's staff in matching
designer gym pants in dark blue, white T-shirts, and tennis
shoes.

In comparison, Jake’s team consisted of
himself, Toni, two big Mexicans who spoke no English, and two other
members of his crew, stringy white guys with cigarettes permanently
attached to their lower lips. They were mismatched with half of
them in jeans, two in shorts, and one in sweatpants. All wore
cowboy boots, and all but one were shirtless.

Eric, wearing his newly
adopted uniform of jeans,
Javier
and Sons
T-shirt, and
cowboy hat, was the official referee.

“I designed this one. It’s great, really
great,” Eric said, motioning the two team leaders closer.

He knelt and pulled out a piece of folded
paper. Using rocks as weights, he unfolded it and pinned it to the
ground. The two men met, one on either side of Eric. Jake eyed
Mark, sensing the man didn't care for the close competition. The
pretty boy from out east was no longer smiling. He alone had
disposed of his shirt about the same time Jake did.

“
It isn’t all about
construction, Jake, so I hope it’s okay,” Eric started. "It's a
relay race, too."

“By all means.” Jake offered a smile. “Make
the city-boy feel more at home. Might help him win the next
round.”

Mark ignored the barb.

“It’s a relay race around the site,” Eric
explained. “All six team members are positioned around the site.
The first team member starts here with one of the new door frames.
He runs to this second guy, who has the tools. They run to the
third guy, who has the door, and they assemble it here. Then the
three carry the door over to the fourth guy, who is positioned at
one of the entranceways to the lobby. Guy four has power tools and
helps them install the door. Then they all run to the marble
entryway, where guy five is, and lay the wood for cement pouring.
And then they all run here, to the office, and tag guy six, who
races the other team’s guy six to the finish line.”

“Wow, that’s some work,” Jake said, and
patted Eric on the shoulder. “Great job.”

“Thanks. I had help.” Eric beamed.

“Enough, loverboys. Set up your team, Jake,”
Mark snapped.

“Know what a door is, Mark?” Toni called as
the athletic man left the group.

Mark flipped him off, and Toni chuckled. Jake
watched him go.

“Toni, you know the men better. Who should be
where?” he asked.

Toni waved the others over. The rest of the
construction team loitered and watched, sometimes cheering for one
team and sometimes the other. Jake’s eyes moved to Mark as Toni
explained the relay race. Mark held up six fingers to indicate his
position, and Jake smiled in anticipation.

“I’ll take sixth,” he told Toni.

The foreman nodded, and the six broke up.
Jake joined Mark to trot over to the office. In the distance Eric
gave the sign to begin, and both men watched their team members
race to the first task.

“Don’t take it so seriously,” Jake advised,
relaxing against the office trailer. “You won’t have any energy
left.”

“Worry about your own energy,” Mark returned.
“Where’s Madge?”

“You know she hates that nickname, don’t
you?”

Mark glanced at him.

“She won’t give you the time of day,” Jake
said in amusement, eyes on his men.

“And she’ll give you the time of day?” Mark
challenged.

“Didn’t say that.”

“Who do you think has a
better chance? Someone like me, or someone like
you
?”

Jake said nothing.

“Besides, I’ve already had her. I doubt you
can say the same,” Mark added.

Jake’s dark gaze slid to him. Anger stirred
within him. He pushed himself away from the side of the
trailer.

“You ditch her or she ditch you?” he asked
casually.

“I ditched her.”

“And now you’re … what? Here for the Texas
sun?”

“I’m here for work.”

“Right,” Jake said with a
snort. “You’re working hard at
one
thing.”

“So you do want her,” Mark said.

“Does it matter if I did?” Jake asked.

“Madge would never go for white trash,” Mark
said with scorn.

“I’m Mexican trash. My chances look better
than yours,” Jake said with ease he didn't feel.

“She’ll be back in the city in a week when
the boss sees how bad this place is and fires her. You don’t stand
a chance, bro,” Mark muttered.

“We’ll see.”

They fell into a tense silence. Both watched
with growing apprehension as the fifth members of their teams
sprinted from the lobby toward them. Jake couldn't imagine a good
person like Madeleine with the snake beside him. She was annoying,
but she always tried to do what was right. Mark had no sense of
honor at all.

“She’s a good lay,” Mark added.

Jake tensed further.

“She tastes as sweet as honey, and the way
she says your name-- ”

“Christ!” Jake muttered, tuning him out.

“But you’ll never know. She’ll be mine again
before the week’s out. Maybe I’ll send you a video.”

Their teammates reached them just as Jake’s
restraint burst. He forced himself to focus on running rather than
choking the hell out of the city-boy. Mark got a head start, his
athletic form bounding over small bushes and rocks.

Jake pumped his arms and pursued, fueled by
pure anger and adrenaline. They raced around the side of the
building to the sounds of voracious cheers. Mark stumbled on the
rocky terrain, and Jake leapt ahead. He rounded the corner and
breezed past Eric, smacking one outstretched hand a split second
before Mark did so.

The two stopped and bent, chests heaving.
Toni slapped Jake hard on the back, congratulating him. Jake,
focused on Mark, didn't hear his words.

Mark met his gaze with a
challenge and held up a finger, mouthing the words,
one week.
Jake snapped.
He launched himself at the self-absorbed city boy.

She knew they had some sort
of competition going from an email from Eric, but she didn't expect
to find
none
of
her men working. She'd left a message for Jake about the financing
after two unsuccessful attempts to call him. She wore the cowboy
boots that had mysteriously appeared for her at the front desk of
the hotel that morning. She suspected Jake had dropped them off as
an apology for any number of his stupid comments. Her feet were
already happier than they had been since hitting the Texas
desert.

A good night of sleep left her rested, and
she had become distracted by a clothing store beside the bank as
she awaited approval for the loan and transfer to Jake’s
account.

She'd shopped while she waited. Now, dressed
more suitably in a pair of designer jeans, her boots, and a
lightweight, long-sleeved cream blouse tucked into her jeans, she
walked with her usual quick stride toward the ring of men cheering.
Duke loped ahead, tongue lolling.

She tucked her earpiece in place as she
walked. With only two days until Mr. Howard’s arrival, she'd been
fielding calls from local and national press, the caterers, and
Nigel regarding the preparations. Her head spun with the additional
details, and she reminded herself again to take a tour of the lobby
before the day was out. Mr. Howard’s security detail would arrive
the next day, as would more of his staff.