On the far wall, a brown leather sofa and two chairs formed a seating area but, like the rest of the office, their horizontal surface was covered in crap.
Tripping over a pair of high heels—high heels!—and an empty box, he made his way to the filing cabinets on the far wall. It took him less than a minute to discover the cabinets were almost completely empty. He would have laughed if the situation weren’t so depressing.
“Jesus, Steven. What were you thinking?” But Jared knew exactly what—where—his friend’s thoughts had been. They’d been on a pair of sky blue eyes and long legs. On a body with enough curves and swerves to make a man not give a shit about whether the office got cleaned or the filing got done.
It was obvious Jenny had brought other talents to the partnership. Talents he’d had no trouble envisioning last night—when he hadn’t been cursing her.
Remembering the thoughts he’d had last night, something told him he should just leave, walk away from his money and this wreck of a business. But he’d never been one to take the easy road, and he wasn’t about to lose his money. Besides, leaving would make her only too happy. And making her happy was the last thing he planned on doing.
Just the opposite, in fact. Sometime during the night, Jared realized she probably didn’t believe him. But if she thought he’d just leave, she’d seriously underestimated him. Bluffing wasn’t in his vocabulary. He’d give it two days . . . three at the most, before she went running to her parents begging them for the money to pay him off.
With that thought, his mood lifted, and he got to work. Buried under a mountain of paperwork, he found a small table with a coffeemaker and can of coffee. After a quick rinse in the bathroom sink, the coffeepot was good to go, and not long after, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the room.
With the help of caffeine, he made the desk his top priority. He worked nonstop, sorting through stacks of paperwork and piles of miscellaneous items. A lot of the stuff was junk. Some of it needed to be filed. And some of it just plain did not belong in an office. As he went to file some paperwork, he opened the drawer with the pitiful few folders. Intrigued, he pulled them out. As he glanced through them, he realized he was looking at a market strategy proposal for the company. And if his guess was correct, they were done in a woman’s handwriting. Jenny’s, undoubtedly. He continued to rifle through the papers, surprised to find some solid ideas. Well, well, well. Cotton Tail might have more to her than what met the eyes.
He put the folders back, along with the other paperwork he’d gathered and organized, and shut the file cabinet drawer. From what he could tell, none of those proposed strategies had been implemented. He wondered why the hell not.
He’d been working for nearly three hours when he heard footsteps slapping against the hangar’s concrete floor. Moments later, Jenny entered the office.
Jared looked up. God, but she looked good. Too damn good. And totally pissed.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.
“Good morning to you, too.”
“Believe me, there is nothing good about this morning.” She’d pulled her hair up into a ponytail, and with her every movement, it snapped back and forth like a golden flag.
Her anger was palpable, and Jared found himself responding. He’d been wading around in the pissed-off pool by himself for far too long—he more than welcomed the company. “Working. I’m not surprised you don’t recognize it.”
Her eyes shot sparks. “Leave.”
“Gladly. Just as soon as you hand over my money.”
“You know I don’t have it.”
With deliberation, he leaned back in the chair and propped his feet up on the edge of the desk—the cleared desk. Crossing his ankles, he steepled his hands behind his head. “Then I guess I’m staying.”
“Don’t you need to get back to your squadron?”
“I have plenty of time for this.” It was the god-awful truth. He had nowhere to go. Nowhere he had to be. His whole life had been taken away by a military inquest.
She eyed his proprietary pose, and he could tell she wanted to take him out. “I have a business to run. How do you expect me to get any work done with you in the way?”