Julianna Morris - Winning Over Skylar

She looked up and her expression turned chilly. “Did you need something, Mr. Hollister?”

Suddenly Aaron’s plan to push for a meeting time to discuss Cooper Industries didn’t seem like the best idea. Antagonizing her wouldn’t help his cause, though he suspected he was already screwed after their clashes over his sister. Skylar wasn’t likely to put her personal feelings aside to make a rational decision.

“Melanie mentioned she has plans to see a movie with your daughter tomorrow afternoon. Sharing a pizza was also discussed.”

Skylar nodded. “They’ve been talking about it.”

“I thought you should know that I told her she can go.”

“You’re okay with it?”

Aaron could tell that Skylar had expected him to refuse and felt like a fraud. He’d tried to talk Melanie into a trip to San Francisco instead of going with her friend—essentially a bribe. It spoke well of his sister that she’d chosen Karin, even if it wasn’t what he had wanted.

“I’d prefer her spending less time at the Nibble Nook, but a movie sounded all right,” he replied frankly. “And I could see how much it meant to her. I’ll make sure she has cash for both the movie and food.”

“Oh, that’s something I’ve been meaning to bring up... Stop giving Melanie fifty-dollar bills to use. It makes her conspicuous. If she needs to carry so much money, give her tens or twenties and have her tuck most of them out of sight in different places in her wallet or purse so it isn’t obvious how much she’s got.”

Aaron didn’t appreciate the obvious being pointed out to him, but she was right. Somebody might get tempted by the idea of easy cash.

“I should have thought it through better,” he admitted grudgingly. “I’ve just been giving her whatever’s in my wallet, and I know my father sends her cash in large bills. I’ll tell Melanie to have me change it into smaller denominations.”

Skylar lifted a crate of lettuce and handed it to her employee. “Thanks, Peter. You should get back inside. I heard more cars arrive out front.”

When they were alone, she dusted her hands. “Why didn’t you just call and leave a message about okaying the girls’ plans? Aren’t you too busy for this kind of personal contact?”

Was that a subtle criticism, or was he just being overly sensitive?

“I was driving past on my way to the office and decided to stop. I’m not familiar with the appropriate protocols for dealing with a teenager.”

“Whatever.” She hopped back into the truck bed and shoved a stack of boxes closer to the tailgate, a healthy flush of color in her cheeks.

One thing Aaron had to say for Skylar, she worked hard. He just wasn’t sure of anything else when it came to her—while she may have changed since her disreputable high-school days, he had a hard time trusting people in general, and women in particular. Ironically, his father seemed to be the opposite. S. S. Hollister was an eternal optimist, always on the lookout for romance.

It was his children who’d learned to be wary of marriage and relationships.

“Don’t you have employees to handle the heavy lifting?” Aaron asked, resisting an impulse to help. She must do this sort of thing every day; she didn’t need him.

“They’re busy. When things are quieter midmorning, I’ll have them slice the onions and tomatoes and wash lettuce for the lunch crowd. We want our ingredients to be fresh.”

“We?”

Her expression went blank. “Saying we is a habit. I ran this business with my husband for more than a decade, and he’s only been gone a year.”

Aaron wasn’t sure how to respond. He’d been noticing how well Skylar filled out her jeans and T-shirt—slim, yet sweetly curved in all the right places—only to be reminded she was a widow.

“I see,” he said awkwardly. “Well, I’ll go, since you’re obviously busy. You’ll call when we can get together to talk about my expansion plans?”

Her eyes narrowed. “As I said last night, I’ll contact you in a few days.”

“Good. Great. We’ll speak then.”

Aaron made his way back to his Mercedes. He still didn’t have anything settled, but it couldn’t be helped. Diplomacy took time, and he was already at odds with Skylar. And it wasn’t as if they’d ever gotten along in the first place.

* * *

THE FOLLOWING Wednesday Skylar drove to city hall shortly before the time she’d set for her meeting with Aaron. He’d suggested they meet at Cooper Industries, but she was too smart to agree. She refused to be treated like a flunky on his payroll—city hall was her territory, and he was the one asking for something from the community, not the other way around.

Cooperton City Hall was one of those grand old buildings built in a confident era when they’d believed the town would soon need a large home for its government. Money and love had gone into planning and constructing the place. The offices beyond the public facade were nice, but the rotunda was the town’s pride and joy—with an ornate dome overhead and a beautiful mosaic wood floor that had been covered by carpet for several decades. When the restoration committee had pulled the carpet up three years ago, expecting the original surface to be ruined, they’d discovered it simply needed a good cleaning and basic repairs for carpet-tack damage.

It was a soothing atmosphere, but Skylar didn’t have time to appreciate the rich glow of wood, brass and polished granite. She trotted up the stairs and through the swinging doors of the mayor’s reception area.

Micki Jo looked up from the computer on her desk. “Hey, Skylar, ready for your big meeting with Aaron Hollister?”

“I suppose. Do you have those reports?

“Yup.” Micki Jo pointed to a box on the corner of her desk. “Copies for you, and copies for the big shot. And here are the keys for the council offices—keep them. I had duplicates made. You should have your own set. Everyone else on the council does.”

“Is that an executive decision, or a Micki Jo ruling?”

“Micki Jo, all the way. The mayor is too busy wringing his hands over what Mr. Hollister is doing with Cooper Industries to be bothered with minutiae. Small-town government requires secretaries who are willing to make decisions in the temporary absence of leadership.”

Skylar pocketed the keys. “Would your college professors approve of that theory?”

“Probably not. Secretaries aren’t appreciated enough.”

It was true, in more ways than one. Micki Jo had started working for city hall two years before, and despite her youth and inexperience, now practically ran the place behind the scenes. Chet was only in his office a few hours a day; the rest of the time he managed his restaurant. Micki Jo, on the other hand, worked full-time and eagerly jumped into every aspect of Cooperton’s government. She was taking night classes toward a bachelor’s degree in political science.

“How are your studies going?” Skylar asked.

The other woman flashed a smile. “I got A-pluses on my last two tests, and I’m writing a paper about Thursday night’s council meeting for my poli-sci course. The guys sure did a fast duck and cover with Aaron Hollister’s expansion proposal.”

“Tell me about it. Mr. Hollister wants a swift approval, but it isn’t going to be that easy. You may hear some yelling before we’re done.”

“My money’s on you, but if you come to blows, try not to get blood on the floor,” Micki Jo advised. “Our preservation chairperson will have hysterics if that hardwood gets damaged. You know how excitable she is.”

Skylar laughed and headed for the city council’s offices with the box of reports tucked under one arm. Three rooms in city hall were allotted to the council—including one for small meetings. She’d never expected to need the offices, so having a key hadn’t occurred to her. Come to think of it though, Jimmie may have had a set. If so, it would still be with his key ring in the dresser drawer, in the envelope....