Construction Beauty Queen Page 11
She went back inside to get a towel. She covered the seat in the car, so she wouldn’t soak her last clean pair of pants on the way to the office. She’d had enough of wearing wet clothes for the day.
“I thought I had the wrong address in my navigation system. You can’t possibly live here.”
Veronica looked up and whacked her head on the top of the car frame. Her mother was stepping out of her luxury Mercedes, teetering in her stilettos on the uneven gravel.
If Veronica had looked half as ridiculous and out of place when she’d first driven into town, it was no wonder the townspeople had scorned her. Of course, most of their opinions hadn’t changed, so it was likely she still stood out like a sore thumb. She rubbed her tender scalp. “You couldn’t possibly have made the trip in less than an hour.”
“Of course not. My father, after not speaking to me for goodness knows how many years, called me last night and told me you’re here and you wanted me to pick you up.”
Ron had called her last night. He had planned for Veronica to fail with the concrete work from the beginning, and she’d been so stubbornly determined to prove she could do it that she’d walked right into the humiliation. But he’d misjudged her. She wasn’t grateful for her mother’s rescue.
“Your father is delighted, not to mention Trevor,” Mother continued. “He would have come himself, of course, but he had a pressing meeting.”
Of course.
Whoever married Trevor would probably have to go through the ceremony with his personal assistant because he’d be in a meeting. “Mother, Ron has manipulated both of us. I have no intention of leaving.”
“Of leaving what? That shack you’re standing in front of? Darling, please don’t tell me that heap of metal between us is your new car. If Trevor saw the way you were living, he’d drop you like a hot potato.”
“We’re not together, so there’s nothing for him to drop.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, honey. He couldn’t get out of his meeting, but he’s willing to send his secretary down to talk to you. You can’t let her see this shack.”
For all of Matt’s frustration with her, he’d never discounted her as a person. He didn’t tell her she was ridiculous when he iced her thumb or hosed concrete off her jeans. He never sent Toby or his other employees to deal with her, so he wouldn’t be inconvenienced. “I’m sorry if my home embarrasses you, but I didn’t invite you or your friends or my non-fiancé’s personal assistant here for a dinner party, so how I live shouldn’t concern you at all.”
Mother shifted on her precarious footing and picked her way slowly across the gravel. “Is there a place other than that trash heap”—she glanced at the trailer and shuddered—“where we can sit and talk?”
“Tonight I’m washing my clothes at the Laundromat; you could sit with me there. But I can’t talk right now. I need to go into work. You should have called to see what I wanted before you made the trip to take me away from a life I have no intention of leaving.” She wouldn’t walk away from it for anything her parents could give her. But she hoped her mother didn’t question her motives too closely, because she was no longer sure if her career plans or Matt were keeping her here.
Mother looked confused and hurt. “I don’t understand. We’ve always given you everything you needed, so you wouldn’t have to live like this. I know we argued before you left, but it’s time to put that behind us. Come home, Veronica, darling. I’m sorry we didn’t pay for your school for you. We’ll pay off those silly loans now, if you’ll come home and set a wedding date with Trevor.”
Veronica knew her mother truly didn’t understand. She really thought she’d done all the right things. She probably thought she’d done Veronica a favor by steering her life so she’d never have to work for a living. “I already paid off my loans, but even if I hadn’t, businesses can merge without a marriage alliance to seal the deal. I won’t be part of the payment. Do you have any idea how insulting that is? I could help both companies make their businesses better if they would listen to me. I have skills, Mother.”
“I have skills, too, I’ll have you know,” she replied, clearly affronted.
“I know you do.” Veronica touched her mother’s arm, desperately wanting to find a way to reconcile without giving in on the issue that was dividing them. “I admire your charity work. I’m in awe of the way you can pull off a dinner for fifty people in two hours and make it look like every detail had been fussed over for months. But I don’t want to plan dinner parties for Trevor.”
“What do you want?” Mother asked.
“I want more than just a guy. I want a fulfilling career and a home of my own.” She’d come to Kortville to get away from men and stand on her own two feet. Yet right now she couldn’t claim to have come close to accomplishing either objective.
“I see. It’s all about you. Your father was depending on you to wield influence from the inside, as only family can do, but you don’t care if he gets pushed out of the company he built from the ground up when Trevor takes over.” Mother spun on her toes and nearly fell in the loose gravel. Gingerly, she made her way back to her car. “I tried so hard to instill you with unselfishness. Clearly I didn’t do as good a job raising you as I thought.” She slammed the door and reversed into the street without checking for traffic.
Gravel dust settled over Veronica’s boots. Her blisters throbbed. Her grandfather was against her. Her mother was against her. She’d failed to help her father when he needed her most.
She had wanted to make a life of her own. Now she truly was on her own.
Chapter Seven
With each keystroke, another sliver of excitement and anticipation replaced Veronica’s depressed mood. She understood the construction business a hundred times better from sitting alone in a neglected office entering bills and invoices into the slow, outdated computer than when she’d studied her Do-It-Yourself Home Improvement Manual and attempted the actual work.
No doubt some people would consider that another knock against her. But as the afternoon wore on and the financial picture became clearer, it reinforced her confidence in her strengths.
“Darling, you are never going to believe what your grandfather tried to do.”
Veronica looked up as her mother walked into the building, leaving the door wide open behind her. She was sure Mother would have been, if not all the way home by now, certainly back in her own neighborhood. Instead she was limping in her stilettos and looked close to tears.
Veronica pushed away from the paperwork and pulled out a chair, guiding her mother to sit down. “What’s wrong?”
Instead of sitting with her normal perfect posture, Mother slumped against the armrest. “I went to see Daddy. He invited me inside, sweet as you please, and then locked the door and went on a tirade about how disappointed he was that I hadn’t returned home in thirty years. He had the nerve to say I was grounded, and then while he was yelling he had my car towed right out of his driveway.”
“Why would he tow your car?” A fly buzzed through the office. Veronica walked to the front door and closed it.
“So I wouldn’t have any way to leave the house and get back to my husband. As if that isn’t enough, I left my purse and phone inside the car, so I can’t even call anyone to tell them my father turned into a lunatic and was holding me hostage.”
Veronica dug out her cell. “Would you like me to straighten it out for you, or do you want to?”
Mother snatched the phone. “I’m calling for a limo, and I want it filled with Godiva and champagne. When I leave town, I’ll have the driver go nice and slow by Daddy’s house, and I’m going to roll down the window and stick my tongue out at him.”
Veronica resisted rolling her eyes. Saying anything to get in the middle of their feud would only bring her down to their level. “So he didn’t call you to pick me up. He called you so he could punish you for leaving home decades ago?”
“He lives alone in that house and hasn’t changed a thing since my mother
died. Even my bedroom is the same as the day I left. It’s creepy.”
“Maybe he’s just really lonely and misses you and Grandmother, and this was the only thing he could think of to bring you back,” Veronica suggested, wishing she’d pushed harder when Ron had refused to let her inside his house on that first day. She’d been too busy focusing on her own needs to consider his.
A set of car doors slammed outside, and the entrance to the office opened again. Veronica expected Ron to have tracked his daughter down. Instead, a woman she didn’t know held the door, and Matt’s niece came inside.
“Hi.” Jenny smiled. “Is Uncle Matt here?”
“No, he’s still at this morning’s job, I think.” Veronica smiled back, pleased to see the sweet girl she’d met at the diner a few days ago.
The other woman frowned as she stepped in behind Jenny. “He knew I had to drop her off early today. I’m Glenda, Jenny’s babysitter. I’m also in charge of the town picnic tomorrow, and I’ve got to get the grills ready, or we’ll be stuck eating raw hamburgers.”
“Town picnic?” Veronica vaguely remembered seeing some sort of flyers hanging on the door to the diner. But no one had said anything to her about it. She’d been so preoccupied that an upcoming town event hadn’t registered.
“Yes, it’s a potluck, but burgers and hot dogs are provided. Tickets are five dollars each.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a packet, mostly of stubs. “We’re raising money for the new baseball field. Your grandfather’s donating the trailer park land, but we have to bring in dirt and sod, and then we need money to maintain it. We’re hoping to have it ready in time for some of the adult softball league games this summer and all of the high school’s fall baseball season.”
“I’d love to buy a ticket.” Veronica forced herself to maintain her friendly smile, uncomfortably aware that she was living over home plate and her trailer was the first thing that had to go to fulfill their plan. “Mother, why don’t you spend the night with me while we sort this out? You can come, too.”
“I’d rather spend the night in my old bedroom than in that awful trailer,” she said.
“I’m sure Ron would love that.” Veronica pulled a ten out of her purse and exchanged it for two tickets. “Jenny can stay here until Matt comes back. I’ll let him know you stopped by.”
“Oh, that would be so wonderful,” Glenda gushed. “Jenny, is that okay with you, honey?”
“Yes, Miss Veronica and I are friends.”
“Oh, thank you so much,” she said to Veronica. “I’m swamped with this project. I had no idea what I was getting into when I volunteered to be manager of the summer athletics program this year. You are so nice. Barney was completely wrong about you.” She rushed out the door before Veronica could question her about what Barney had said.
She turned to Jenny and smiled. “It’s good to see you again. This is my mom.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Jamison,” Jenny said, holding out her hand formally.
Mother shook her hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you, too. You have impeccable manners. Your parents have taught you well.”
“My mom and dad died, so my uncle taught me,” she said matter-of-factly.
Good manners and a hard-luck story—her mother was putty. Remembering the tortured look on Matt’s face when he’d overheard the Hollisters explaining his brother’s accident and his desperation to change the subject, Veronica felt like putty herself.
She busied herself with picking up the picnic tickets to put away for tomorrow. Bring a dish to pass was written on the bottom of each one, and she realized she could use some motherly advice. “Mother, what do people bring to a potluck?”
…
Matt was repairing the damage to Ron’s yard when his cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID: Veronica. He was so freaked out by the kiss—kisses—they’d shared that he almost let it go to voice mail. But he wouldn’t allow her to think their encounter unsettled him to the point that he was avoiding her.
“I’m working in the office, and I wanted to let you know that Jenny’s here with me.” Veronica’s sweet, cheerful voice flowed over him, momentarily stunning him into silence with memories of all the reasons he was attracted to her.
“Jenny’s with you?” The last thing he’d expected her to call about was his niece. “What happened to Glenda? Why didn’t she call me?”
“Apparently you had a prior arrangement with her that she was going to drop Jenny off here, and you’re the one who didn’t show.”
“Oh shoot, is it after four already?” He pulled back his phone to check the time. The gazebo disaster had taken much longer to rectify than he had anticipated.
“Four thirty, but it’s okay,” Veronica said in a voice clearly meant to soothe him. “My mother’s here, too, so they’re entertaining each other while I’m tracking down her car.”
“Your mother?” Jenny had talked of nothing but Veronica ever since they’d left the diner two days ago—her hair, her clothes, her shoes, her smile, her makeup. It was no wonder Matt was fixated on her after being subjected to glowing reviews on every feature. And now Jenny was going to subject him to a double dose.
“Ron called my mother just like he’d threatened. But apparently, his goal isn’t to send me home but to convince my mother she needs to move back in with him. His method of convincing her is to tow away her means of transportation. I’m working through the bureaucracy at the police station to get it sorted out.”
“I’ll be right there,” Matt said.
“Jenny’s fine,” Veronica repeated. “You don’t need to rush over. I’m just letting you know where she is.”
In his office with Veronica and her mother, one of whom she barely knew, the other who was a complete stranger. He tossed the mostly clean wheelbarrow in the bed of his pickup, dialed Connor’s direct line, and headed for the office.
By the time he arrived, he had Connor’s assurance that the confiscated vehicle would be released and returned immediately. Veronica was sitting at Leah’s desk inside the office. She’d unearthed a section all the way down to bare wood and had the computer up and running. He doubted he could make her understand that paying bills by hand was faster and cheaper than keying in everything, categorizing, and still having to write the checks manually.
Jenny sat on a cushioned reception chair using another cleaned-off section of the desk to carefully print her spelling sentences from her homework. In theory, it was the perfect scenario. Jenny would have her homework done, so they wouldn’t have to labor through it together that weekend. Veronica would waste her time fiddling with a computer system he didn’t use, instead of messing with something essential to his business.
In the perfect situation, Jenny wouldn’t be wearing a dozen necklaces and bracelets and rings on every finger. He took a step closer. She didn’t have on cheap costume jewelry, either. “Where did you get all that?”
Jenny looked up, and her face brightened into a smile. “Hi, Uncle Matt.”
Veronica looked at him, her gaze thoughtful.
“I got here as soon as I could,” he said to Jenny. “Pack it up, and we’ll go home.”
Her smile faded. “After I finish my homework, Veronica promised she’d braid my hair the way that girl on TV had hers last night.”
Letting her watch a mere five minutes of a televised teen pop star’s concert had been a bad idea. He’d allowed it. Now he was responsible for undoing the damage before her girlie tendencies turned her as self-centered and superficial as Kimberly. “I’m sorry. Your plans will have to change. We’re going home now.”
“Matt, if you have work to do, I don’t mind,” Veronica finally spoke. “We’re getting along fine.”
“I’m done for the day. Give the jewelry back, Jenny.” He couldn’t help remembering that Veronica’s love of pretty things hadn’t turned her self-centered or superficial. He’d stereotyped her based on her looks, the same way he’d assumed she would look down her nose at him and his town.
“Oh, Mother, for goodness sake,” Veronica said, but he didn’t miss that her cheeks turned pink. He liked the fantasy that he was important enough to affect her plans. “The only equation he’s made a difference in is that he knows how to pull the right strings in this town. Your car, complete with your purse and a gift certificate to the diner for your troubles, should be in front of the office in fifteen minutes.”
Matt tugged on the neckline of his T-shirt. That was the only thing he’d made a difference in? Those kisses earlier didn’t count for anything? After she’d turned his life upside down and inside out?
“What are your intentions toward my daughter?” Mrs. Jamison demanded, not missing a beat.
“His intentions are to put up with me for a month until I’ve earned the right to run the distribution company,” Veronica answered, clearly trying to deflect the pressure, even as her cheeks turned brighter by the second. Okay, maybe she was thinking of those kisses more than she wanted him to know.
He looked back at Mrs. Jamison and had the sinking feeling that her gaze hadn’t wavered from him as he’d ogled her daughter. Ron might have been blinded by his own agenda to Matt’s raging hormones and inappropriate thoughts, but Mrs. Jamison clearly was not.
“Jenny, I need a stapler. I think there’s one in the conference room. Would you mind getting it for me?” Veronica asked his niece.
Jenny looked at him for permission, and he nodded. This was no conversation for a little girl to be party to. Veronica might have been affected by their kisses, but her brain was working a lot better than his to protect Jenny without making her suspect anything out of the ordinary.
He waited for his niece to leave before answering lightly, “I’ve done everything I can to send Veronica back to you.”