Taking the Reins(19)
He nodded, understanding the topic of Danny’s owner was now closed for discussion. “Could you point me in the right direction?”
She waved a hand toward a closed door off of the sitting area which boasted fine leather couches, oversized armchairs that invited you to sink in, and a fireplace. Oh, and an infant swing designed to look like an elephant. He chuckled at that. All the fancier surroundings, the posh furniture, the large watercolors, and abstract art hanging on the walls . . . and a child’s toy. The two seemed in contrast, but he appreciated it. Made the area seem more approachable.
He knocked on the door, which was cracked a bit, and heard a feminine voice bid him enter. And walking in, he paused a moment to watch her work.
Peyton Muldoon, little queen of her realm, sat behind a large oak desk that dwarfed her. The desk was obviously built for work, not show, though it was an attractive piece of furniture in itself. Bookshelves lined one entire wall, and he saw all manner of books sitting there. From veterinary help manuals to horse genealogy to . . . was that the latest best-selling thriller novel?
Peyton Muldoon. So many layers.
“Done studying my office?”
Her words jarred him back to the present. “Sure am.” Why bother denying?
She sat back, laced her fingers together over her stomach. One of her braids, which made her hair look even darker than usual, flipped over her shoulder. “You probably know what I’m going to say.”
He sat down in the chair opposite and mirrored her posture. “How about we not go down the assumption road and just talk in real time?”
“Fine. I’m offering you the job.”
“Done.”
“Comes with the trainer room, which is an apartment built over the equipment barn. Sounds primitive but it’s actually pretty nice.”
“Works for me.” An apartment within arm’s reach of the facility, where he wouldn’t have to fight off bedbugs or be awoken by the prostitute next door with her john at three in the morning? It was his childhood dream come true. Not that she needed to know that.
Leaning forward, she pushed a paper across the desk. “Here’s the salary information, as well as the other typical hiring info you’ll need.”
He was supposed to be grabbing for the paper. But instead he couldn’t stop looking at her shirt to see if it was a figment of his imagination, or did he catch a hint of her cleavage when she leaned over . . .
“Callahan.”
“Hmm?”
She gave him a sugary smile. “Like I said before, the pay’s likely not what you’re used to.”
She thought he’d been staring at the hiring information, not her chest. Good enough for him. “I’m fine with it. Don’t need much. Place to park my trailer and somewhere to set my boots at night.”
One disbelieving brow winged up. “Not going to negotiate better pay? Better benefits?”
“There are no benefits.”
“As I said . . .” She sighed and raised her hands. “Fine. Here’s the contract. Go ahead and sign your life away.” As he reached for the second paper she slid across the desk, she snatched it back, paper fluttering in the air. He looked up into her eyes, all kidding and amusement gone. “You realize this is a permanent position we’re offering. Not one of your here today, gone tomorrow gigs? You’re being brought in to build the brand. Not just fix a singular problem.”
“Yeah. I know.” His hand snaked out and tried to pull the paper, but she held it firmly.
“If you get a better offer next week and quit on me, I’m not going to be happy. There’s an easy-out clause in here, despite my better judgment, but my lawyer insisted it was for both our benefits. And I’m gonna be pissed if you use it soon after starting.”
“You don’t seem all that happy with me right now.” He tugged again, but it was like she’d glued the page to the wood. “I need this back so I can sign it, you know.”
“Right.” She let up and settled back. And, he couldn’t help but notice, she watched with an eagle eye as his pen scratched across the surface of the page with his signature and date.
“Good. Now that that’s done, time for a tour.” She stood and grabbed her hat from one of the bookshelves. As she walked by him, he was eye level with her waist. Dang, she was a tiny thing.
She turned to open the door, and he got a nice view of her backside.
Not tiny everywhere. Curves where it counted. He liked that in a woman.
“Let’s go, cowboy. I’ve got things to do later on.”
He debated a moment telling her he’d already done his research, knew the general outline of the ranch. But that seemed imprudent, so he meekly stood and followed her out, slipping on his boots next to her at the front door and following her out toward the stables.