A Mum For Amy. Ann Evans

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СКАЧАТЬ sorry. I really can’t give you that information. Please…”

      “Okay, you’re right,” Maggie said in a quick, conciliatory tone. “I’m sorry I put you on the spot. It’s just that getting this job is very important to me.”

      Maggie spent the next few minutes being professional and polite with the woman—when all she really wanted to do was yell or throw something. She’d spent weeks coming up with those designs. She’d furnished LaCrosse with enough testimonials from happy clients to choke a horse. She’d practically had to take out a bank loan in order to wine and dine him properly. She’d done everything to get this job except sleep with the man, and she’d be lying if she said the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. And now, she knew it. It was all going to be for nothing.

      “Then it’s set,” Susan said. “Mr. LaCrosse will be in touch with you tomorrow at two.”

      Maggie shook her head at Zack, indicating failure. “There’s no way I can speak to him today?” This minute, she wanted to add.

      “I’m afraid not. Right now, he’s holding a press conference regarding his plans for the resort.”

      By the time Maggie tossed the telephone receiver back in its cradle, she could hardly contain her disappointment. She cupped her face in her hands and swore softly.

      “You don’t know it’s a bust,” Zack said.

      “In all the years we’ve been doing this, have I ever been wrong about whether or not we got a job?”

      “No.”

      “I can read between the lines. I got lots of practice when I lived with my folks, trying to guess when and where the next argument was going to come from.”

      Zack stood, settling his tool belt on his hips. “So we don’t get the contract. We’ve been shut out before.”

      “This was big, Zack. We could have bought the new oven. We could have stopped subcontracting to that toad Jefferson.”

      The commercial-sized oven they needed to heat acrylic so they could seal joint seams properly was a particularly sore spot for Maggie. Although the equipment was horribly expensive, no aquarium design firm worth its salt relied on outside help for that sort of thing.

      But ever since their ancient, secondhand oven had bitten the dust a year ago, Sapphire Seas had been contracting out the work. To a squinty-eyed jerk up in Marathon who thought that every bit of oven time he sold Maggie ought to come with a free overnight stay in her bed. So far she’d been holding him off, but purchasing an oven of their own would have stopped that nonsense forever.

      Oh, well. Goodbye to that dream. For now.

      She flung a disgusted glance around the office. “Why didn’t I try to clean this place up before Teddy came down here? Everything looks so shabby. The remodeling needs remodeling, for pity’s sake.”

      “Mags, stop.”

      Maggie rubbed her fingers along her jaw. “Who do you think he went with? Coastal’s the only outfit in the state that could handle a job that big.” She sat up straighter suddenly. “Wait a minute! Susan said he was holding a press conference today. You know what that means?”

      “Media coverage.”

      Maggie nodded. “Whatever decisions have been made could be on the Miami paper’s Web site by tonight.”

      Zack headed back to his workshop and Maggie spent the rest of the day watching the clock. By six that evening she could check the Internet. LaCrosse’s press conference probably wouldn’t divulge who’d gotten the green light for the resort aquariums—too small a job in the grand scheme of things—but Maggie was hoping for something, anything that might tell her what to expect from Teddy’s conversation with her tomorrow.

      By the time she closed the office, the first streaks of a pink and purple sunset were sifting over the palms that lined the short driveway to Sapphire Seas. Back at her desk, she paged through the top news stories of the day on her computer. It took very little time to find what she was looking for, and when she did, Maggie’s mouth parted in surprise. Then absolute, flat-out shock. She settled back in her chair, staring at the screen and feeling nothing but…numb.

      Zack came into the office. “Find out anything, Sherlock?”

      Maggie jerked her chin toward the monitor. “Take a look.”

      There was a good-sized picture of Teddy LaCrosse smiling out at them from behind a podium. Although he was backed by a wall of three-piece-suit types, he wore a Hawaiian shirt and his hair clearly hadn’t been trimmed since the last time Maggie had seen him.

      Zack quickly scanned the article below the picture, then looked at Maggie. “It doesn’t say anything about specific contractors. Nothing to indicate we lost out.”

      “We’re not getting the job, Zack.”

      “How do you know that?”

      Maggie ran a finger gingerly across the screen, then let her fingertip rest on one of the men standing behind and to the left of Teddy. Oh God, she still couldn’t believe it.

      Zack frowned. “Who’s the bean counter?”

      Maggie hardly heard him. She couldn’t take her eyes off the man’s face. Could barely allow her finger to make contact with the image, as though it might burn her right through the glass. “He’s not a bean counter,” she said. “He’s Teddy LaCrosse’s chief architect. From Jacobson and Duquette Associates. His name is Will Stewart.”

      “Will Stewart,” Zack repeated thoughtfully. “Why do I know that name? Will—” He shot a quick glance her way. “Your Will Stewart? The guy who—”

      “One and the same.”

      Zack blew air through his lips. “Oh, damn. You think he advised LaCrosse to go with another company because you two—”

      “I think advised might be too polite a word. You know architects work closely with all the contractors. If he found out I was behind the Sapphire Seas bid, I’ll bet he threw a fit at the thought of coming within a hundred miles of me.”

      “Are you going to ask LaCrosse when you talk to him tomorrow?”

      Maggie moved suddenly, snapping off the computer. She rose, pulled her purse out of the bottom drawer of the desk and grabbed her car keys. “Nope. I’m going to find out right now. Tonight.”

      IN THE END, Maggie didn’t make the four-hour drive up to Miami that evening. Even if she’d known where to find Teddy LaCrosse, tracking him down, forcing him into a midnight conversation, would look unprofessional and probably wouldn’t win her any points. She’d spent years trying to get a handle on her impulsive nature. No sense letting her emotions get the best of her now.

      But early the next morning, as she drove up the long stretch of US-1 that connected the mainland to the Keys, it wasn’t how to win over Teddy that ate at her nerves.

      It was the thought of Will Stewart.

      All Maggie could think about was how her gut had kicked to see his СКАЧАТЬ