When she didn’t reply, he glanced at her. Her red fingernails tapped on the bar top as she stared at nothing. He waved a hand in front of her, and she blinked. Her eyes held a bright gleam, though different from the earlier flirtatiousness.
“Could I hire you?”she asked.
Had he read her wrong? Was she hitting on him again? If so, this was by far the oddest pickup line.
Max scratched his cheek. “I’m not following . . .”
“I have a super swanky client. It’s a couple with a gorgeous home in Brighton on Woodland Lake with lots of windows. They want a year-round garden in their house. And I don’t mean a few potted plants, but something lush and hardy that blends with the vibe of the indoor decor.”
Oh, she actually wanted to hire him for a job. And his dumb ass was a little disappointed.
And also intrigued. An inside garden would be an interesting challenge, and he admitted as much to her. He ran his finger along the rim of the drink in front of him. “I already have a lot of jobs scheduled.”
“I understand you’re busy, but this isn’t just any job. It’s a chance to create something truly unique—a living, breathing work of art that seamlessly integrates with high-end interior design. We’re talking about transforming an entire section of their home into an oasis that changes with the seasons, right alongside Woodland Lake’s stunning views. It’s not just landscaping; it’s sculpting an ecosystem. Plus, the budget . . . let’s just say it reflects the caliber of the project.”
He balanced the possibilities in his mind, absently running his thumb over the worn edge of the bar top. “I’ve already got a full schedule. I’m not sure my company is the right fit.”
Taking on another project would eat up the sliver of free summer he had, and he didn’t need the business or the money. But the concept tugged at him like a loose thread he couldn’t help but pull. This wasn’t just another job—it was the kind of innovative challenge that could transform and grow his company.
His gaze flickered to Paloma as the bass thrummed through his chest, matching his quickened heartbeat. Turning her down had been the right thing to do, even if every sip of his new drink seemed to taste of regret.
“I’ve seen your previous work. You can do this.”
Her certainty got under his skin. For a moment, he saw himself through her eyes: not as the screw-up in his family who made too many impulsive choices. Yes, he saw the irony in taking on an impulsive project to prove he wasn’t impulsive, but something about it—and her—had him intrigued.
“Walk me through the concept one more time.” The smile that crossed her face told him she’d known all along he’d say yes.
The attraction hit him like gravity, but beneath it lurked a nagging voice. Her relationship with Asher was barely history before she’d turned those siren eyes his way.
It didn’t matter. This was about work. He’d keep it about work.
“How about you come with me to their place tomorrow?” she said. “I’ll show you my plans for the house and what they’re looking for with an interior garden.”
He could fit it in, so why not at least look? “Sure. What’s the address?”
She gave him another brilliant, genuine smile, and his pulse raced, his heart smacking against his ribs. Shit. Good thing he’d managed to hold in his impulsiveness and had turned her down before they’d started talking. The more he got to know her, the more he liked her. He could already tell he’d have wanted more than a night with her. And all she wanted him for was to get over another man.
Working together was the smarter choice. They shook hands and he ignored how he liked the feel of her soft skin against his callused palm.
Chapter Three
July 16th, 9:09 a.m.
Paloma pressed a hand to her stomach, staring at the printer. Excitement battled with anxiety, making her regret the small bowl of oatmeal she’d eaten for breakfast. With a final whirl and quiet hiss, the sheet with Max’s contract slid from the printer.
She picked up the warm paper, her fingers tracing over the blank signature line. Who would have thought a failed pickup at The Hill would lead to this? She shook her head, still amazed at how quickly their conversation had shifted from awkward flirtation to professional excitement.
Before they’d met at the Thompsons’ house two days ago, she’d researched his business. It was a small but premier landscape design firm that handled major commercial and residential projects. It was a coup that he was willing to take on this specialized portion of her project even with his packed schedule. Still, her expectations needed to remain low. She’d tried partnerships in the past and they’d failed miserably.
Her phone dinged with an incoming call at the same time her doorbell rang. Her cell was face up on the desk and her dad’s name flashed on thescreen. They hadn’t talked in over a month, and it was five in the morning in California.
Her stomach clenched, and she picked up the phone. “Dad? Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. I wanted to catch you before my day got started.”
The bell chimed again. She crossed to the door and opened it, the phone pressed to her ear. “Oh, good. I was worried because it’s so early.”
Max stood on her porch in a faded green t-shirt and equally faded jeans. Her breath halted somewhere in her chest. Some women loved men in designer suits. Others got hot for guys with calluses on their hands. Hers was the latter. Even his scuffed brown work boots were sexy. But it didn’t matter. He might soon be her work partner. She waved him in, motioning toward her office.
