Neil’s eyebrows quirked up. He obviously expected a fight. But Jack wasn’t going to engage him. A confrontation with Neil wouldn’t accomplish anything and would only force Cole and Finn to take sides. Keeping his cool right now was for the good of the family.
“All right then.” Neil stood and walked toward the kitchen. “I’ll see you later.”
Yes, he would. And every day that Cole needed him behind this bar. Within the next four weeks, that is.
Chapter Eight
Sterling padded down the grand staircase. Earlier when her stomach had rumbled for the umpteenth time, she’d slipped into the kitchen to put her leftovers from the night before into the microwave. She’d been so busy she hadn’t heard the timer go off—it had been at least thirty minutes since she put her food in, probably nice and cool by now.
When she arrived that morning, she had started on the first floor of Vivian Madewood’s home—Jack’s home—making a first-round sweep of the contents. She’d spent the day marking items with sticky notes: storage, donate, sell. When he returned that night he’d review her decisions and she’d order storage containers.
The week had gone by in a blur. She’d just finished up her latest contract with Dunn and Associates, a multi-partner law firm downtown, and was set to start work with Prism Consulting Group on Monday. Her time at the Madewood home was limited, but she was queen of multitasking. She’d have this house ready in no time. Now that she’d decided to renege on her deal with Jack, she would have more than enough time to finish things in a timely fashion.
And the faster she finished this job, the faster she got paid. Which meant the faster she could pay off the debt and hopefully keep her house. The only pressing concern was how she was going to handle her parents.
She’d been nervous about seeing Jack this morning. Downright terrified. Luckily, he had already left for the day, leaving a spare key for her underneath the doormat. Inside he’d left her a note, a rather detailed note, advising her of his intentions to seduce her when he returned.
The fact that she knew how persuasive he could be terrified her even more, but she’d been prepping her speech all morning. Exercising her willpower for that moment when she’d have to keep her distance.
As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she noticed that a light smoke filled the air. And that smell. She inhaled through her nose and coughed. Something was burning. She raced into the kitchen. Smoke billowed lazily from one end of the room to the next. In the distance, she heard the hum of the microwave.
“No, no, no, no, no,” she cried, running over to the counter. The clock counted down on the microwave at twenty-six minutes.
She had keyed in six minutes. Just six. But judging by the length of time she had disappeared and the amount of smoke in the air, she must have punched in an extra zero.
She pressed the pause button. The appliance stopped, but the smoke that wafted from between the doors did not. She was afraid to open it.
Gathering her courage, she pulled the handle. Smoke rushed out in a thick, gray cloud and rose to the ceiling. Her food sat in its container, black and inedible. She was such a space cadet. On top of thousands of dollars in credit card debt, she now owed Jack a new microwave.
After grabbing some paper towels, she removed the container and placed it in a plastic bag. She tied the ends and left it outside on the back deck. She’d handle it later.
Racing around the house, she opened every window and door she could find. After ten minutes, most of the smoke had dispersed, but the smell lingered. What the hell was she going to tell Jack? He trusted her in his home and she’d almost burned it down.
With the situation under control—and her stomach still growling—she went back to work. It was the only way to redeem herself professionally.
Hours later, she was still working away, saving the best room for last. The infamous closet. The clothing that hung inside was so beautiful. Iconic, really. A fashionista’s dream.
She took inventory of the items in her head and jotted notes on her clipboard, estimating she would need twenty wardrobe boxes and sixteen shoe totes. Each tote held ten pairs. She sighed. What would it be like to be able to fill sixteen shoe totes?
Brushing her fingers over the tips of the shoes on the shelves, her thoughts drifted to her imaginary life where she could buy anything and everything she wanted.
She jumped at the sound of Jack’s sexy voice. “How did I know I’d find you in here?”
She whirled around and her breath caught in her throat. How was it possible that he got hotter every time she saw him? This did nothing to help keep her libido in check, and that’s where it had to stay. She needed this job.