“No,” he said, crossing to stand before her. “It’s a job site. One I’m paying for.”
“Let’s pretend you’re not the one footing the bill. It’ll make it easier for me to live with myself.”
“Don’t think of me as your boss—”
“No chance of that happening. Ever.”
“Just think of me as the man who signs your paycheck.”
She smiled thinly. “Now who’s going straight for the jugular?”
“I’m simply interested in my investment.”
A lie, but what was one more at this point in his life? Short of Maddie blowing it to bits, he couldn’t care less what she did to Bradford House. He glanced around. Two of the walls had been gutted down to their frames, the plaster on the other two was cracked, stained and, in a few areas, missing, exposing the narrow pieces of wood underneath. The brick above the fireplace was crumbling and fractured and the fireplace itself was sinking into the floor.
Maybe blowing this place up wasn’t such a bad idea.
But no matter how bad of shape it was in, the Montesanos would turn it around. That’s why he hired them. He’d bought Bradford House so it could be renovated into a bed-and-breakfast for Fay to run, but she’d never believe he’d put up the money simply as a business venture if he didn’t show interest in the progress Maddie was making.
“Tell you what,” Maddie said with so much false cheer, Neil was surprised she didn’t shoot singing elves from her ass. “I’m in the middle of something right now. How about we schedule a little look-see for this weekend? Say, Sunday afternoon?”
“I’m flying out Saturday,” Neil said.
“Guess what they say about rest and the wicked is true. I’d think you’d have a few days off, what with being a Stanley Cup champion and all.”
Don’t think he didn’t notice that she said “Stanley Cup champion” the way most people said “demon-spawn-of-Satan.”
But she was right. He didn’t have much time to rest, hadn’t slept more than four hours a night or had so much as a day off since winning the Cup—hockey’s highest trophy—a week ago. There had been celebrations and the parade in Seattle, press junkets and interviews, charity and promotional photo shoots.
He was tired and hungry and he didn’t need more shit from Maddie.
Too bad he couldn’t quite figure out how much he actually deserved.
“I signed a deal to endorse a new sports drink,” he said. “The commercial’s shooting first thing Monday morning.”
“So you’re going to get paid an ungodly amount of money to swill some electrolyte-laden drink? Well, big congrats to you,” she added, sounding as if she was wishing him a lovely trip to hell.
“I’m lucky,” he said slowly, “that playing the sport I love grants me opportunities to take care of my family.”
“Yes, you’re quite the saint. Always thinking of your family.”
He did think of his family, but it’d do no good trying to convince Maddie of that. She’d always wanted, expected, so much more from him than what he gave. Than what he was capable of giving.
She had high standards, higher than most mere mortals could attain. He’d gotten tired of trying to meet them, of trying to be the boy she’d so desperately wanted him to be.
Maybe it was time for her to try to live up to his standards.
“I’m sure you can spare me a few minutes now,” he told her, using the same tone he employed when making any other business deal. The one that said he not only played hockey to win, but he also played every game to win.
He held her gaze, could practically feel her resentment, her animosity, emanating from her. Maddie hated being put into a corner and being told what to do. She hated even more not getting her own way.
Some things, it seemed, would never change.
“Look,” she said, “I tried to be nice—”
“I must’ve missed that part of the conversation.”
“I realize you’re used to people falling all over themselves just to make you happy, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a carpenter, not a tour guide. You want to look around? Knock yourself out. And I mean that literally.”
She brushed past him, haughty and so goddamned self-righteous, he grabbed her arm. Held on when she stiffened. Tried not to think about how he used to have permission to touch her whenever he wanted. How she used to welcome his hands on her.
How he shouldn’t want to pull her closer, press his nose to the side of her neck and see if she smelled