The Billionaire's Masquerade Page 0,7
smile. “It isn’t very far.” Which was a complete lie when one was walking in three inch heels. “Is Mr. Watson available?”
Molly leaned against the doorway, pressing her lips together as she contemplated how to answer the lovely woman’s question. “That man is out there somewhere,” she said, looking out over the flowering bushes that seemed to be everywhere. “He’s not here but then, he’s rarely inside on a day like today.”
Rachel felt defeated and flustered. “Oh,” was all she could say at the moment, her green eyes clouding over with temporary defeat. But she wasn’t going down yet. The man had to come home some time, didn’t he? “Do you know when he usually returns?”
Molly looked out into the sunshine as if trying to find the answers in the chaos of the Maine landscape. “That man has the oddest schedule you’ll ever find,” she explained. “He does what he wants, when he wants. He works when the mood strikes him but all other times, he’s out working on one project or another. I can’t tell you when he’ll be here, but I’d put money on him being at the Eager Beaver a bit later, a bar over on the other side of the peninsula. He generally gets a beer or two there most nights.”
Rachel sighed with exasperation. This wasn’t sounding like the man she wanted to emulate. He didn’t work a normal schedule? She’d always thought that being regimented and on a strict schedule would help her get ahead. Most mornings, she was the first one into the office and she stayed late each night while the foreign exchanges were still thriving. It was all very confusing.
“Thank you for your help,” Rachel said as the woman tucked a dishrag into the waistband of her apron.
Molly chuckled at the lovely woman’s disappointment. If Molly had her way, the man in question would be right here, getting to know this pretty stranger and settle down. Molly wanted some babies to take care of and that obstinate Emerson Jackson Watson wasn’t getting on board quickly enough. “Good luck finding him. He’s a wily devil.”
Rachel walked back down the stone steps, squinting her eyes against the sunshine as she considered her options. It was only ten o’clock in the morning. She’d gotten the earliest flight out of Dulles Airport so she could arrive here early enough to catch him before the famous Emerson Watson started his day. Now she was finding that he never really started his day. How exasperating.
She wasn’t giving up though. It was Friday morning which meant she had all weekend to try and catch the man. Tenacity was the way to go, she told herself, trying to pep herself up. She hadn’t caught him yet, but she still had until Sunday evening before she had to fly back to Washington, D.C.
Rachel walked back, her knees shaking once more as she rounded the corner where the handsome man had been twenty minutes ago. Sure enough, there he was, standing on the ladder, his shoulder muscles flexing in the sunshine, looking amazingly strong and virile.
“Find what you’re looking for?” he called out.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “How did you…?”
“I can feel you,” he said and tossed the tool he’d been using to scrape the paint off of the cottage into a bucket and descended the ladder. Walking over to her, he wiped his hands on a relatively clean rag. “So?”
She sighed and shifted uncomfortably. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re laughing at me?”
He couldn’t stop the chuckle at her adorable irritation. “Perhaps because I think you’re cute. And you’re priorities are wrong.”
She certainly didn’t like the sound of that. She squinted up at him, trying to see his eyes. “Why are my priorities wrong? What’s wrong with wanting to learn new things?”
“Nothing is wrong with that. But correct me if I misunderstood, but you’re looking for Watson so that you can learn the secrets to his investing philosophy, no matter how cutthroat it might be. Am I right?”
She shrugged. “There isn’t anything wrong with trying to get ahead.”
There was a long pause while he looked at her pretty green eyes. “Ahead of what?” he asked softly.
That seemed like such a ridiculous question with an annoyingly obvious answer. “Ahead of the crowd!” she came right back. “I don’t want to be part of the pack.” He smiled and Rachel couldn’t stop those crazy flutterings at the impact of that smile. She wanted to punch him or maybe even run away,