In the following weeks Jonah tried to talk them out of the new hire several times, but they were set on it. He had, however, talked them into letting him train and oversee the new hire. That gave him some measure of control and made sense since they’d be traveling a lot. He appliedhimself to his classes, and the next thing he knew, they’d hired someone fresh out of college. As if a few courses could teach someone more about this place than a lifetime here had taught him.
He’d 100 percent rather be running the place than taking a full load of classes during the high season. But this was what his parents wanted, and he respected them too much to do anything but honor their decision.
Then four weeks ago, the woman he’d splashed with mud stepped out of Carson’s SUV. Judging by her rigid spine and the flat line of her lips, she recognized him instantly. And in that fleeting second he’d felt sorry for the incident and opened his mouth to apologize again.
Then he realized why she was here on his property. She was the new manager, coming to settle in for the next nine months. She must’ve changed clothes—no hint of mud splatters. She reminded him of his ex-girlfriend Monica with her designer pocketbook, heeled boots, and manicured nails. And her name—Lauren Wentworth—sounded like old money. He gave the princess a week.
He never had issued that second apology.
But a month later she was still here. His parents were now on the road, heading to the Florida Keys, and Jonah was staying on property for a few weeks to oversee their new hire.
Lauren had made a few small missteps, the worst of which was double-booking a cabin for a week in June—but his mom had caught the mistake quickly. Jonah would give Lauren credit for a surprisingly good work ethic. She was up and about at sunrise, always busy doing something, and didn’t seem to mind being on call 24/7. Of course, she hadn’t lived through high season yet.
“She’s not so bad, you know,” Meg said.
Jonah let the curtain flutter closed. “Didn’t say she was.”
“It was the smirk on your face. You could at least tell her the snow’s gonna melt.”
“Where’s the fun in that? Don’t you have some numbers to crunch?”
Meg crossed her arms, giving a smirk of her own. “You just don’t like that she’s doing a great job.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. And she’s barely a month in. Also, it’s not high season yet.”
Meg shook her head in a patronizing way. “You poor thing. You don’t even realize.” With that she took off for the office.
Jonah frowned. “Realize what?” When she didn’t answer he followed and found her settling into her chair behind the old computer screen. “Realizewhat?”
She started clacking on the keyboard. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how beautiful she is.”
The image of her sage-green eyes flashed in his brain. “What’s that got to do with anything? I can barely tolerate her.”
“And why do you suppose that is, brother dear? She’s doing the job she was hired for and allowing you to get your classes over with. You should be grateful and yet you can’t seem to be around her without bristling.”
“She’s the bristly one.”
“Oh, really? The rest of us get along with her just fine.”
“You’ve seen how she is when I try to give her instructions. She’s practically belligerent.” Okay, she might not say anything out loud. But that stubborn look on her face said it all.
Meg deigned to glance his way, holding his gaze a long second. “Since you seem to be the last to know, I’ll do you a favor and enlighten you: The sparks between you two could ignite an inferno.”
Jonah flinched. “That is ridiculous. Those are notsparks. We rub each other the wrong way, that’s all. We can hardly be in the same room.”
“Explain your dislike for her then, if it makes so much sense.” That he resented Lauren for taking the job he wanted seemed pretty entitled if he couldn’t explain his fear about being an outsider in his own family.And he didn’t want to go there with Meg. How could she possibly understand? Besides, if he told her he suspected their mom wanted her to run the resort instead of him, it would only make her feel guilty for choosing accounting.
He fumbled for words. “She’s a city girl. She doesn’t belong here.” But he knew even as he said it that it was poor reasoning. Sure, she’d been a bit overdressed that first day. But since then she’d shown up to work in appropriate attire—if maybe a bit on the fussy side.
Meg was regarding him with something like pity. “Not everyone from the city is like Monica.”
Because yes. She did remind him of Monica—from the designer bags to the big-city dreams. His ex-girlfriend had broken his heart when she left him and this “Podunk town” for the greener pastures of New York City.
It wasn’t fair to take his hurt feelings out on Lauren. But somehow, when she tipped up that stubborn chin or pressed her lips in mutiny, all common sense went right out the window.
“I’ll admit Lauren’s a bit of a city slicker,” Meg said, “but that’s hardly a fatal flaw. She works hard and she’s doing a good job, isn’t she? Maybe you could ease up a bit—be a little less impossible.”
“Me? She’s the impossible one.”
