And the thing about free labor was that one tended to get what one paid for.
Which reminded her, she still had some doors to shave down and hang at that Internet café. The other volunteers didn’t know how, and the bathroom doors had to be installed for the café to pass a building inspection.
“Hey, Matt. Evie.” Bob pumped her hand. “You look absolutely beautiful this evening. Glad you could make it. By the way, thanks for picking Matt up.” His voice carried, and a few people laughed. Even Marion smiled.
Eve’s cheeks stung with heat. “The hotel was on my way,” she said, willing him to spontaneously combust. The twitch of a muscle under Matt’s jaw indicated he was trying to control a grin of his own.
“I see my husband’s hooked up with a colleague,” Marion said, excusing herself. “Never leave two healthcare specialists from the same research study alone at a party. They’ll be talking about infectious diseases all evening if I don’t go put a stop to it.”
“We’ll find time to chat later,” Bob said to her. He shifted his drink to his other hand and turned back to Eve.
Her fingers curled around her wineglass. She vowed she was not going to let him talk her into anything, but he had a way of getting what he wanted that was truly astounding. In a previous lifetime, he’d no doubt sold snake oil to unsuspecting settlers.
“Be honest,” Bob said as he clapped a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Now that you’ve met him, you have to agree that getting Mattie to do the design for City Hall is a real coup. He’ll set a precedent for modernizing this city, and before you know it, we’ll be on the international map.”
Matt lifted his eyebrows. Well? His amused look challenged her. Am I a coup or what?
“We’re already on the international map,” Eve said, trying to ignore Matt’s efforts to make her smile back at him. It was no easy feat—that was one killer smile he possessed.
“We have one of the largest and deepest natural harbors along the Eastern seaboard. And for the record,” she added, “I don’t think the city needs to be modernized. More and more historic sites are being lost to glass and steel projects with no character. Glass and steel certainly have their place, but if we don’t protect our downtown district, it will no longer have the atmosphere that makes it such an attraction to tourists and movie companies.”
Bob gave a low chuckle, as if she’d said something cute. Eve had the horrible fear he was about to pat her on the head. If he did, she’d be forced to lay him out flat at his own reception. She tolerated him calling her Evie, but she had boundaries.
“Sweetheart, there’s more to attracting tourism and movie companies to the downtown core than a few old buildings.”
Eve refocused the conversation. “What about the budget?” she asked. “Sullivan Construction has already won the contract. Technically Matt works for us now, and our budget dictates his plans will have to be a bit more practical than he’s used to.”
“Excuse me for interrupting, but my plans are always practical.” Matt’s deceptively soft voice rumbled above her head, enveloping Eve’s insides in a sudden flash of heat. He had a voice like polished oak. Solid, but smooth. “Every inch of space is both usable and aesthetic.”
“But can you make sure it’s affordable, too?” she challenged, determined not to forget where her loyalties lay.
“That’s what I like about you, Evie.” Bob nodded a greeting to a cadaverous man in a dark suit walking by. “You’re so passionate when it comes to money. Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?”
Eve set her untouched drink on a nearby table, the blood pounding in her temples like the low, slow throbbing of a drum. She’d show him just how passionate she could be when the necessity arose. She was tired of Bob not taking her seriously. “I get paid to worry about budget money.”
“Uncle Bob.” Matt’s firm hand took possession of Eve’s punching arm. “Do you mind if I borrow Eve for a few moments?”
“Not at all,” Bob said, already scanning the room like a shark sniffing out blood in the water. “You kids go have fun.”
Matt hustled her down a short hall, through an open set of sliding glass doors, and onto a small flagstone patio cobwebbed in shadows.
“In most circles, it’s considered impolite to punch your host in the nose,” he said,