On Temporary Terms Read online

  Duncan frowned. “They have?”

  “Yes. Brody needed to do it before he left. Your grandmother came with him.”

  “Why did no one tell me?” Duncan had a bad feeling in his gut.

  “I’m telling you now.”

  Duncan scanned the paragraphs of legal-speak, searching for the alterations that necessitated this visit. His heart pounded. The tiny pink “flags” denoting spots requiring his signature mocked him. Surely he wasn’t reading the document correctly. “I don’t understand,” he said slowly. “Granny told us she was leaving her company to Brody and me fifty-fifty.”

  “In light of recent developments—Brody’s marriage, your relocation to America—your grandmother and your brother thought it would be only fair to change the split to eighty-twenty. You’ve given up your career and your life in Scotland. They want to make sure you don’t suffer for that decision.”

  “I made the choice willingly,” he insisted. “I didn’t ask for anything in return. This is preposterous. I won’t sign it.”

  “Have you met your grandmother?” Abby asked jokingly, her expression sympathetic. “I can assure you she won’t be moved on this point. Besides, you’re not getting a free ride by any means. You’ll earn your money. The company is enormous and complex. I’m told that one of the two managers is moving to the West Coast any day now to be closer to family. Your grandmother wants to be involved, but she is no longer physically capable of an intensive workday. The future success or failure of Stewart Properties will rest on your shoulders.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk.”

  “We have a saying in this country, Duncan. The buck stops here. Your decision to move to Candlewick and look after your grandmother is not going to be easy. Dealing with elderly people never is. But you’ll have the added stress of running a multimillion-dollar company, give or take a few zeroes.”

  “Again, you suck at this.”

  She grinned. “My job is to clarify the gray areas.”

  “Consider them clarified.” Duncan felt mildly ill. “I have a strong urge to leave it all to Brody.”

  “I don’t think he would take it.”

  “Great. Just great.”

  “Think of it as an adventure.”

  He signed the requisite spots and shoved the folder away. “There. It’s done. I hope I can count on you in the weeks and months to come.”

  Abby’s soft pink lips, lightly coated in gloss, opened and shut. “For legal advice?”

  Duncan sat back in his chair and smiled at her, letting her see, for the very first time, the extent of his male interest. “For everything.”

  * * *

  Abby went through the rest of her workday in a daze. She fluctuated between excitement that Duncan Stewart had asked her out on a date and the absolute certainty that he had been joking.

  Fortunately, she had dinner plans with her best friend, Lara Finch. The two of them met at Abby’s house and rode together the twenty miles to Claremont. There were places to eat in Candlewick, charming mom-and-pop establishments, plus the usual pizza joints, but for privacy and a change of scenery, it was nice to make the extra effort.

  Over chicken crepes, Lara quizzed her. “Something’s up, Abby girl. Your face is all red, and you’ve barely said a word since we got here.”

  “I talked in the car.”

  “Correction,” Lara said. “I talked in the car. You did a lot of listening.”

  “You’re the designated driver. I’ve had a glass of wine. That’s why my neck is hot, and I’m flushed.”

  “Abby!” Lara gave her a look that said she wasn’t going to be put off.

  “Oh, fine. If you must know, I met a guy today.”

  Lara put down her fork, leaned back in her chair and stared. Speechless.

  Abby winced. “It’s not that unusual, is it?”

  “The last time you mentioned a man to me was sometime around the turn of the century.”

  “We didn’t even know each other at the turn of the century,” Abby pointed out dryly.

  Lara picked up her fork again and waved it in the air. “I was using poetic license to make a point. This mystery man must be something special. Please tell me he has a brother. I’m currently in a bit of a dry spell myself.”

  “He does,” Abby said. “But unfortunately for you, he’s already married.”

  “Bummer.”

  “Yeah.” Abby debated how much to say. If she admitted the full extent of how meeting Duncan Stewart had affected her, Lara would never let it go. “Do you know Isobel Stewart?”

  “Of course. Everyone knows Miss Izzy. She has several accounts at the bank.”

  Lara was a loan officer at the local financial institution, a position with a great deal of responsibility and authority in a small town. She, like Abby, found Candlewick’s pool of eligible men to be lamentably small. Not only that, but a lot of guys were put off by Lara’s cool demeanor and elegant looks. Abby’s friend had the proverbial heart of gold, but she had been known to freeze a man in his tracks if he stepped over an invisible line.

  “Well, this was Miss Izzy’s grandson.”

  “Brody?”

  “No. He’s the one who just got married.”

  “To the bookstore lady...”

  “Right.”

  “So there’s a brother number two?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “It’s the accent, isn’t it? I’ll bet even if he had two heads and warts, women would fall all over him.”

  “Are you saying I’m shallow?”

  “Don’t be defensive. Tell me why he’s so adorable and irresistible that my dearest friend is in a dither.”

  “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “A dither. A state of flustered excitement or fear.”

  Well, poop. That was Abby’s exact state. “There was something about him, Lara. An intensity. Or maybe an air of danger. I’m not sure I can explain it. He was very masculine.”

  Lara’s eyes rounded. She fanned herself with her napkin and took a sip of water. “So what are we going to do to make sure this very dangerously masculine man notices you?”

  Abby tried not to smirk. “Not really an issue. He’s already asked me out.”

  Her friend with the runway-model body and the ash-blond hair and the sapphire eyes goggled. “Seriously? It was the boobs, wasn’t it? Lord, what I wouldn’t give to have those boobs for twenty-four hours. They’re guy magnets.”

  “I don’t think he was even serious,” Abby admitted, voicing her worst fears. “He’s lonely, and by his own admission, he doesn’t know anybody in town.”

  “There must have been more to it than that or you wouldn’t be acting so jittery.”

  Abby’s cheeks flamed hotter. “He flirted with me almost from the beginning, and then he asked me out. But he also insulted my profession and questioned my motives. I didn’t know what to say.”

  “So what did you say?”

  “I told him I had to think about it.”

  “Ah. That’s good. Make him work for it.”

  “Lara! That’s not what I meant. I’m not sure my dating him is ethical. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am in my career...to make sure everyone knows that I’m not like my father.”

  “Oh, good grief. You’re not representing him in a court of law. Besides, isn’t Miss Izzy technically your boss’s client?”

  “Yes, but—”

  Lara interrupted with a triumphant grin. “Problem solved. Now for the important question. Do you have any good undies, and what are you going to wear when you finally put him out of his misery?”

  Two

  Abby chose to wait a week before contacting Duncan Stewart. That would give her time to decide if she really wanted to go out with him. If she realized in the interim that he had only been playing with h
er, then she wouldn’t have embarrassed herself for nothing.

  She planned to call him the following Saturday morning. The Friday night before, Lara was at her house for a battle-of-the-Chrises movie night. It was an old game they played. Tonight would be Chris Pine versus Chris Hemsworth.

  While they popped popcorn in the kitchen, Lara rummaged in the fridge. “Has your dad harassed you lately?” she asked, popping the tab on a soda and taking a sip before hopping up on the butcher block countertop and dangling her legs.

  Abby grimaced. “No, thank God. He’s been suspiciously quiet. Almost too quiet. Makes me nervous.”

  “Mom wanted me to make sure you know you’re invited to our place for Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s a long time from now,” Abby said, her throat tight.

  “Not all that long. My mom loves you. Our whole family loves you. It’s not your fault that your father has gone off the deep end.”

  Abby dumped the popcorn into two bowls and sighed. “It feels like my fault. Maybe I should have tried harder to get him medical help. I don’t know if he has diagnosable medical issues or if he’s just a deeply disturbed jerk.”

  “I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Lara said, her expression rueful. “But I can’t bear to see you go through the holidays again like you did last year. That was hell. You’re like my sister, Abbs. And you deserve better.” She hopped down and grabbed a bowl. “Enough gloomy talk. Let’s eat. Don’t forget the cheesecake I brought.”

  “Do cheesecake and popcorn really go together?”

  “Cheesecake goes with everything,” Lara said.

  An hour and a half later, when the first movie credits rolled, Abby was already yawning. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”

  Lara kicked her foot. “Dreaming about the luscious Scotsman?”

  “Not exactly. He hasn’t contacted me, you know.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, you told him to give you time to think about it.”

  “I did.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t know if I want to go out with him.”

  “Liar.”

  “Excuse me!” Abby said, affronted.

  “Of course you want to go out with him. But you’re scared.”

  “Oh.” That much was true. “I’m fifteen pounds overweight, Lara.”

  “Not every guy wants a stick figure. He liked what he saw. And besides, you’re a beautiful woman, whether you believe it or not.”

  Easy for Lara to say. She was the epitome of the perfect female. If she weren’t so wonderful, Abby would be compelled to hate her on sight. “Well, it’s a moot point, because he hasn’t gotten back to me, and I honestly don’t think I have the guts to call him.”

  “Let’s look at this objectively, honey. How often do new men wander into town?”

  “Almost never.”

  “And when they do, how often are they young, hot and available?”

  “Almost never.”

  “And when one of them is young, hot and available, how often is he the decent type who loves his grandma and is willing to sacrifice his own happiness for hers?”

  “You’re making him sound like a cross between Robin Hood and James Bond. I’m pretty sure Duncan Stewart just wants to get laid.”

  “That’s what all men want. It wouldn’t hurt you either.”

  “Lara!”

  “You’re staring down the barrel at thirty. Then it’ll be thirty-five and forty. All the good men will be gone. You’ve got a live one on the hook, Abby. Don’t toss him back.”

  “That’s the most sexually regressive, ridiculous speech I’ve ever heard.”

  “You know I’m right.”

  “I don’t see you fishing.”

  “Maybe if I had a charming Scotsman asking me out, I would be.”

  “I don’t know. He’s arrogant and rich and snarky. Probably hasn’t had to work for anything in his life.”

  “Text him. Right now. Tell him yes.”

  “You’re bullying me.”

  “Correction. I’m encouraging you. There’s a difference.”

  Abby picked up her cell phone, her stomach churning. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Do it, Abby.”

  Without warning, her cell phone dinged. She was so startled, she almost dropped it. The words on the screen left no doubt about the sender.

  Have I given ye enough time, lass? Dinner Tuesday? Pick you up at 6?

  “It’s him, Lara.” She held out the phone. “He must have been serious.”

  Lara read the text and beamed. “Of course he was serious. The man has good taste. Text him back. Hurry.”

  Hands shaking, Abby pecked out a reply...

  Two conditions. We don’t call it a date. And you let me tell you about the offer on your grandmother’s business...

  She hit Send and sighed. “I’m not finishing the rest of that dessert. Do you think I can lose ten pounds by Tuesday?”

  Lara handed her a fork. “Eat the damn cheesecake. You’re perfect just the way you are. If Duncan Stewart doesn’t agree, he’s an idiot.”

  * * *

  Duncan had fallen into a routine of sorts. It wasn’t familiar, and it wasn’t home, but for the moment, it was workable. His grandmother liked to sleep later in her old age. Since Duncan was up early every day, he headed into town and opened up the office before anyone else arrived. He liked having a chance to look over things unobserved.

  He was definitely the new kid on the block. All the staff had been cordial and helpful, but he guessed they were wondering if anyone would be getting the ax. That wasn’t his plan at all. Stewart Properties appeared to be thriving. It was up to him to make sure that success continued.

  The company comprised two equally profitable arms—mountain cabin construction and mountain cabin rentals. Isobel and Geoffrey had capitalized on a tourist market in its infancy decades ago, and had built their reputation bit by bit. The main office had been located in Candlewick since the beginning, but satellite offices operated in Asheville and several other spots within a hundred-mile radius.

  In a little over a week’s time, Duncan had learned the basics of daily operations. He had already spotted the invaluable employees and the ones who might be potential problems. Because his training and degrees were in finance, he wasn’t concerned about the accounting practices. Where he would have to pay attention was in the actual design and building modules.

  Because his grandmother was determined to maintain her involvement in the day-to-day operations, he went back up the mountain each morning around eleven and picked her up at the palatial wood-and-stone home she and her husband had built for themselves. It was far too big for an elderly widow. It was even too big with Duncan in the house. But Isobel wanted to stay, so the status quo remained.

  After a shared lunch in town, Duncan deferred to Isobel’s decisions and insights about the various company decisions. Her mind was as sharp as it ever had been. Her stamina, however, was less reliable. Some days, she made it until closing time at five. Other times, someone was drafted to take her home at three.

  This particular Tuesday was a good day. Duncan and Isobel had spent several hours going over potential new architectural plans for a series of cabins to be built on land they had recently acquired. Other, somewhat dated, house plans were being culled.

  At last, Isobel closed the final folder and tapped it with a gnarled finger. “These new ones are going to be very popular. You mark my words.”

  Duncan scrubbed his hands across his scalp and yawned, standing up when she did. “I believe you, Granny. You’re the boss.”

  Isobel reached for his hand and pressed it to her cheek. “Thank you, my boy. Thank you for everything you’ve done for an old woman. It means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

&
nbsp; He hugged her, glad she couldn’t see how much he had struggled with the decision to uproot his life. “I love you, Granny. You looked after Brody and me when we were lost boys after Mom and Dad divorced. I owe you for that, even if for nothing else. Besides, I’m enjoying myself.”

  And it was true. He was. He hadn’t expected to, not at all, so the rush of adrenaline in the midst of new challenges was a bonus.

  When they released each other and stepped back, he grinned. “I suppose I should tell you. I have a date tonight. Don’t wait up for me.”

  The old woman’s eyes sparkled, and she chortled with glee. “Do tell, boy. Anybody I know?”

  “Abby Hartmann? She’s at the law firm where you sent me to sign the new will.”

  “Ah, yes. Abby.” Isobel’s brows narrowed. “Abby is a nice young woman.”

  “Why do I get the impression you don’t approve?”

  “Abby hasn’t had an easy life. She deserves to be treated well.”

  “I wasna’ planning on beating her, Granny.”

  “Don’t be sassy, boy. You know what I mean. I’d not want you to trifle with her affections.”

  “She strikes me as an extremely savvy young woman. I think she can handle herself.”

  “Maybe so. Will you bring her by the house so I can say hello?”

  “Next time perhaps. Let’s see how tonight goes.”

  Isobel’s eyes gleamed. “So you’re not entirely sure of yourself. That’s a good thing.”

  “Whose side are you on?” he complained.

  “I’ll always be in your corner, Duncan, but we women have to stick together.”

  Several hours later, Duncan parked in front of Abby’s neat, bungalow-style white frame house and studied the property. She lived on a quiet side street only two blocks off the town square. Her handkerchief-sized yard was neatly manicured, and her windows gleamed in the early evening sun.

  Since the moment Abby accepted his invitation Friday night, they had texted back and forth a time or two. He found himself eager to see her again, surprisingly so. Perhaps he needed a break from work or a distraction from his complicated new life. Or maybe he simply wanted to determine if the gut-level attraction he experienced in her office was still there.