A Dog And A Diamond. Rachael Johns

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      At the mention of the other woman, recognition flashed across Callum’s face, his smile faded and his eyebrows knitted together. “You’d better come this way.”

      Before she could ask which way he meant, she felt his large hand across her back and she bit down on her lip to stop from whimpering. What the heck was wrong with her? There were a number of layers between her skin and his; she could only imagine how her body might react if there were not. As Callum led her across the slate-tiled floor, she took a few deep breaths in and out, trying to regain her equilibrium. She told herself this weirdness must be due to where they were, but feared this wasn’t actually the case.

      “We can talk alone in here,” he said as he pushed open a door with a gold sign on it that read Director—Callum McKinnel. The sign looked shiny and new as if it hadn’t been in place very long and, when she stepped inside, the office didn’t seem at all to Callum’s taste.

      And how would you know that?

      “Take a seat,” Callum said, gesturing to a shiny, dark leather armchair as he shut the door behind them.

      “It’s fine, I’ll stand.” She rushed her words. “But you might want to sit down.”

      “That bad, hey?” She couldn’t quite interpret Callum’s tone, but was glad when he walked around the massive desk and sat in a luxurious leather office chair on the other side. His elbows perched on the desk, he folded his hands and he looked up to her expectantly.

      She took a quick breath before launching into her speech. “I come on behalf of Bailey Sawyer.” She cleared her throat and continued, forcing herself to look at Callum, despite the fact that looking at him put her all off-kilter. “Bailey acknowledges that you have been in a relationship for five years and that you have both invested a lot of time and energy into each other. She’s had a fabulous time with you, but I regret to inform you that she would no longer like the honor of being your fiancée. You’re more like a brother or a best friend, and although you had a lot of fun together in other aspects of life, when it comes to sex, the attraction has faded for her.”

      His eyes widened and Chelsea couldn’t meet his gaze, heat flaring in her cheeks. The whole sex thing came up frequently in her line of work—not being physically compatible was one of the top reasons for dumping someone and she prided herself on delivering this news with the utmost tact. She wasn’t a prude by any means, but just saying the S word in front of Callum McKinnel made her feel like a teenage girl who’d just discovered The Joy of Sex in her parents’ bedroom.

      Jeez, it was hot in here. She mentally gave herself a cold shower as she tried to remember the next part of her spiel. Bailey Sawyer hadn’t paid good money for Chelsea to make a mess of breaking up with her longtime boyfriend.

      Oh, that’s right. She focused. “You are a great guy but Bailey has realized you’re just not her type. She doesn’t think you want the same things she does and wishes you the best in the future. She thinks one day you could make some woman a very wonderful husband, but she is no longer prepared to come second to your work.”

      Her heart racing now, Chelsea stepped forward and thrust a bouquet made only of the finest Belgian chocolates across the desk. “These are from Bailey. Your favorite, apparently.”

      He glared at the chocolates like they were soggy roadkill. “Not anymore, I don’t think.” He blinked and then ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I’m sorry...is this some kind of joke?”

      * * *

      Callum stared at the woman across his desk, waiting for her to say “Smile, you’re on Candid Camera” or whatever the hell the latest incarnation of that ridiculous show was. She was almost as tall as he was, which was rare in a woman, but she was definitely all woman. Despite the fact she’d just delivered him the news his engagement was over and she was wearing a heavy winter coat, he couldn’t help but notice the way her body curved in all the right places. She’d tied her caramel-blond hair back in a high, professional-looking knot, but he could easily imagine what it would look like if she let it all hang loose. Had she even told him her name?

      It felt like hours but was probably less than a minute before she replied, “No, I’m sorry, but it’s not.”

      He raised his eyebrows, kinda stunned by this whole bizarre situation and, if he were honest, more than a little annoyed. “What exactly does my relationship with Miss Sawyer have to do with you?”

      She cleared her throat again and then glanced back at the door as if contemplating her escape, but he didn’t plan on letting her leave until she’d given him a reasonable explanation. “I am a breakup expert,” she announced as if this wasn’t an alien profession to him.

      “A what?” He couldn’t help his scoffing tone. Maybe this really was a joke. Bailey liked to think herself a bit of a comedian; then again, he doubted she’d interrupt his work for a laugh. She knew how important the distillery was to him, even more so now that his father had died and he was running the show.

      “I’m a breakup expert,” she said again. “I handle the difficult task of ending relationships for people who don’t feel up to the job themselves.”

      “You mean gutless people who like an easy cop-out?” He shook his head before she could reply. “I can’t believe what the world is coming to. What kind of person does that?”

      “Someone who cares deeply about their partner and feels they may end up staying in an unsatisfactory relationship because they don’t want to hurt the other person. Bailey had your best interests at heart when she hired my services.”

      “I meant, what kind of person does this for a job?”

      “Oh.” Color bloomed in her cheeks and she dropped her chin to her chest, staring at the floor a few seconds before looking up again and crossing her arms. “My reasons for my career choice are no concern of yours, Mr. McKinnel. And now I’m afraid I have another appointment. Good day.”

      She’d turned and fled the room before he could call her bluff on another appointment. Did she actually get enough of these gigs to earn a living? He stood and hurried after her, weaving through the customers milling in the shop area—the time leading up to midday was a busy one, loads of tourists looking for a place to lunch—but she was fast and he saw no sign of her. Cursing under his breath, he emerged outside just in time to see a little red car reversing out of the lot.

      “Dammit.” He patted his trouser pocket to check for his keys, then without another thought jogged around the back to his own parked car. Wondering what had come over him but unable to stop himself, Callum started his SUV and screeched after her, narrowly missing a whiskey barrel in his haste. He caught up just as she was turning onto the road in the direction of Bend, the nearest city to Jewell Rock.

      As he drove focused on the car in front, he called his sister on speaker phone.

      “Good afternoon, McKinnel’s Distillery, Sophie speaking. How may I help you?”

      “It’s me,” he barked. “Look, I’ve had to go out. Can you handle my calls for the next hour or so?”

      “Out?” Sophie’s disbelief came across loud and clear. “Out where?”

      “Never mind. Something’s come up. Call me if there’s an emergency.”

      “I may be young and I may be a woman, but I’m more СКАЧАТЬ